Home » Articles » English Stories » realistic [ Add new entry ]


"Almost home" I thought to myself as I drove down the highway. It was 7:00 on Friday and just getting dark. As I came around a curve I could see a car in the breakdown lane, hazard lights flashing. The hood was up, and as I got closer I could see smoke pouring out from under it; I could also see an out of state license plate. The car's 2 occupants were standing next to it, looking tired and aggravated. I pulled up behind the car and hopped out of my Blazer. As I walked towards them I was able to get a better look at the 2 men. Both were dressed in business suits; one looked to be in his early forties, around 5'10" and stocky. He had salt and pepper hair and a mustache, a double chin, and a large, prominent paunch which jutted over his slacks and strained the buttons of his white shirt. The other man was younger, in his early thirties. He was the same height as the first guy but slimmer, although looking closely I could see a bit of a roll around his middle, just starting to hang over his belt. He had short blond hair, neatly combed, and was clean shaven.

"Thanks for stopping" the older one called out as I approached. "We didn't think anyone was going to." I looked under the hood, but couldn't see much. Besides, mechanics is not my strong point, and I wasn't even sure what to look for. I offered to give the guys a ride to a phone to call for a tow truck. They accepted, and as we drove towards the next exit the older guy introduced himself as Don and the younger guy as Paul. They were salesmen, relatively new to the area. Don rode in front with me; Paul had climbed into the back seat. As I drove along I stole glances at Don's gut; seated it looked even larger than when he was standing, causing the buttons of his shirt to separate every time he inhaled.

Don called for a tow truck and we drove back to his car. When the truck arrived the driver glanced at the engine and informed us that all he could do was tow the car into the garage and have a mechanic look at it in the morning. "Looks like you guys are stuck here" he said as he hooked up the car to the tow truck.

"Any hotels nearby?" Paul asked me.

"There's one about ten minutes from here, I could drive you there if you'd like" I answered. Don and Paul took their bags out of the trunk and watched as the tow truck drove off. I put their bags in the back of my Blazer and headed for the hotel. When we got there Don registered while Paul and I unloaded the bags. I helped them carry the luggage to the room. Don asked if there were any good restaurants around, and insisted on taking me out to dinner. "We'll unpack later," he said, "I'm starving"

I took them to a local steak house, known for its' reasonable prices and large portions. We were seated in a quiet round corner booth, with Don and I on the ends and Paul in the middle. Don ordered us all a round of beers, and said "Get whatever you want, it's my treat. You saved our butts out there on the highway."

When the waiter came back I ordered a steak and baked potato. Don ordered a king cut of prime rib, double order of steak fries and side order of onion rings. Before Paul could speak Don added "And he'll have the same thing, and keep the beer coming." I smiled at the look of amazement and annoyance on Paul's face.

"I was going to order a salad," he said to Don, "you know I'm trying to lose weight." He turned to me, one hand dropping to grip the spare tire around his midsection. "I've gained 15 pounds since I started this job six months ago. I was 170 pounds, and I had a really tight stomach. Now I'm having trouble buttoning my pants." My eyes strayed to Paul's midsection. Between the tight pants and his hand grabbing it his spare tire jutted out over his belt.

"How do you stay in such good shape?" Paul's question snapped me back to the conversation; I realized I had been staring at the roll of fat around his midsection.

"Oh, I work out a lot, jog during the good weather, just keep active." At 6 feet tall and 190 pounds my body was in good shape, broad-shouldered and lean-wasted, with solid, muscular legs.

"Try riding around with him," Paul continued, "he's the worst possible influence. Never misses a meal, and his idea of a meal is probably your idea of a feast." Don chuckled, his ample belly bouncing as he laughed, the buttons of his shirt straining. Sitting across from him I could make out grayish hairs on his gut between the gaps in the buttons.

"It's all bought and paid for," he said, "you want to play, you've got to pay, and this is my price tag." As he spoke he slid his hands under his belly to emphasize its size and shape.

"Besides, being on the road all the time you can't help putting on a few pounds." He looked at Paul; "Wait and see. Ten years ago I weighed 180 pounds. Then I went on the road. Fast food lunches, business dinners, they all add up." As if for emphasis Don picked up his mug and drained the rest of his beer.

"How much did it 'add up?" I asked him.

"About 80 pounds worth," Don answered, "all in my belly." He looked at Paul. "Wait and see, that 15 pounds is only the beginning."

Before Paul could complain further the waiter delivered another round of beer. I waved him off, saying I had to drive, and ordered a soda instead. Don and Paul downed their beers and were half way through another round when dinner was served. Paul's eyes widened at the mound of food on the plates. "I told you they had big portions here," I said with a slight smile.

Paul looked at Don. "There's no way I can eat all of this" he said.

"Stop whining and start eating" Don replied back; "I'm sure you'll manage."

With a slight groan Paul dug in. I ate my steak slowly, watching Don and Paul tear into their meals, the slabs of meat and mounds of greasy fries and onion rings steadily disappearing, washed down by a constant flow of beer. Don finished first, and leaned back in his seat, stroking his full belly as Paul struggled to finish. With a groan Paul swallowed the last few fries.

"Oh shit, I am so full" he moaned, reaching down to loosen his belt and unbutton his pants; "this is embarrassing, but I can't stand the pressure on my stomach" he added. The waiter dropped off 2 more beers; Don called him over and whispered something in his ear. The waiter nodded, and headed off towards the kitchen. Don and Paul were sipping their beers when he returned carrying a tray laden with 3 ice cream sundaes. They were the house specialty, known as gut-busters, 10 scoops of ice cream, swimming in hot fudge and caramel, and dripping with whipped cream, usually meant to be shared. Paul stared wide-eyed at the huge bowl in front of him.

"There's no way I can eat this" he said to Don, "and you're out of your fucking mind if you think I'm even going to try." Don just smiled and nodded, taking a large gulp of his beer.

"Sure you can" I jumped in, "and you can eat mine when you're done. I don't work out every day to blow it on this." Paul looked at me like I had lost my mind.

"Who's side are you on?" he asked, "I can't even button my pants as it is." I leaned closer, and said softly

"I'm on your side. You'd look good with a little more weight on you." For emphasis I slid my hand under the tablecloth and gently grabbed his spare tire. I could feel a shiver run through his body.

"See that," Don spoke up, "Another guy who likes a man with some meat on his bones. You're outnumbered, so dig in."

Paul took a deep breath and muttered "I can't believe I'm doing this", and then tore into the first sundae. His eating took on an almost desperate quality, as if he was just trying to get through it without exploding. He took huge mouthfuls of beer, trying to wash down the sundae. He finished the first sundae and with a deep sigh dug into mine. Halfway through it he pointed towards his empty beer glass and grunted "more" He finished the sundae, slid the bowl back, belched, and said "I want another one."

"Another beer?" Don asked.

"No, another sundae," Paul replied.

"But Paul, isn't that pushing it a little?" I asked.

"You guys want to see meat on my bones, so order it, and more beer too." Paul was drunk, that much was obvious. I glanced across at Don, who was also drunk by now. He just shrugged and grinned. I looked back at Paul, who was waiting expectantly, his belly bulging against the material of his shirt. I called the waiter over and gave him the order. When he delivered it Paul attacked it with his spoon, gulping down spoonful after spoonful of ice cream, causing his already stuffed belly to stick out even farther. He sat back, his stomach looking round and bloated. Don called for the check and paid it with a credit card. We got up to leave; Paul swayed unsteadily.

"You'd better help him," Don said. I put an arm around Paul's waist to steady him; I could feel the firm roundness of his full stomach, and ran a hand over the roll at his side.

Paul looked at me. "Satisfied?" he asked.

"Almost," I answered. When we got to my Blazer I laid Paul in the back seat. I climbed into the drivers seat and glanced over at Don, who had taken off his belt and unbuttoned his pants, and was massaging his bloated belly. I reached over and slapped his paunch. "A little full, Don?" I asked.

"The pants were digging into my gut," he answered.

He paused for a minute; "What now?"

"Now we show Paul what putting on weight really means" I answered, "and you too, while we're at it." I reached over and rubbed Don's gut, as he forced it out farther in response to my touch. As we drove back to the hotel I stopped at various stores and fast food restaurants, stocking up on beer and junk food. Paul was dozing in the back seat and didn't seem to notice; Don's eyebrows raised in disbelief at the growing pile of bags in the back of the truck. He rubbed his belly in anticipation, and I could see a bulge growing in his crotch at the thought of the gluttony to come.

When we got back to the hotel Don and I carried all of the food into the hotel, and then woke Paul and brought him in. He was more awake and less drunk having slept for a while. I let Don lead him into the room; I followed and locked the door behind me. Ahead of me I could hear Paul; "What's all the food for?" he asked.

"It's for the two of you," I answered. "You're going to eat like you've never eaten, more than you ever thought possible. You're stuck here tonight, and I'm going to make it a night you'll never forget."

Paul stared at me. "But, but.." he stammered "I already pigged out at the restaurant. I mean, it was fun while it lasted, but enough is enough."

I stepped towards him. "That was just the beginning," I said as I grabbed his love handles and pulled him closer. "Now take off your clothes while I get things set up. You too, Don. I want to blow that big fat gut of yours up even bigger."

Both men started to undress, Don more quickly than Paul. I sat them down on the foot of the bed, and as they watched I did a slow, deliberate strip tease in front of them; as I slid my shorts off my hard cock sprang out. I reached into one bag and pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup, and covered my cock with thick, sweet syrup. I walked up to Paul and said "suck it off," and slid my dick into his waiting mouth. As he sucked I pushed Don back onto the bed and spread syrup all over his big round belly. I pulled my dick out of Paul's mouth and pushed his face towards Don. "Lick it off," I ordered, "Lick every drop off of that fat belly."

Don laid back, his hands behind his head. His dick, already semi-erect sprang to attention at the first touch of Paul's tongue. Paul ran his tongue all over the round mound of flab at Don's middle, and deep into his belly button. One of Paul's hands dropped to his stiff cock, but I brushed it away. "Not yet," I said softly, "not for a long while yet. You've got to earn it."

I leaned over and whispered into his ear "That's right, lick every drop off that fat hog's belly. You like that belly don't you?" Paul nodded, his tongue running through the mat of graying hair on Don's gut."You want a gut like that, don't you?" I continued, "you want to turn yourself into a fat pig just like him,d on't you?" Paul nodded again, and kept on licking.

In the corner of the room was a table and 2 chairs, and I sat the 2 of them at it. "We're going to play a game" I said, "the guy who eats the most gets his dick sucked by the loser." As I spoke I began piling food in front of the 2 of them. I could tell by the hard-ons they were sporting that they were too excited to argue.

"When I say go, start eating. Eat until your belly aches; eat until you pass out. Do whatever it takes, just stretch those bellies to their limits, and beyond. Ready, go!"

With that the 2 "contestants" tore into the food. Their first targets were 2 gallon buckets of ice cream, now soft from sitting so long. Don scooped out handfuls of vanilla into his mouth; streams of melted ice cream ran down his arms and dripped onto his round belly. Paul buried his face in the chocolate ice cream, sucking it down and licking the empty carton. Next it was donuts, followed by cookies, cakes, and pies, washed down by numerous cans of Budweiser.

At times I would grab a handful of cookies, or a donut, or slice of pie, and feed it to one of them, thrilling at the feel of their greedy mouths sucking every last crumb from my fingers. On the floor around them the empty boxes, wrappers, and beer cans piled up; their bodies became covered with crumbs and pieces of food, their faces smeared with remnants of all they had shoveled in.

As they gorged themselves they taunted each other. "Give it up, you're too skinny," Don growled around a mouthful of chocolate layer cake

"I've been pigging out a lot longer than you have. Just suck me off now and get it over with."

Paul took a long swig of beer; "No way, fat boy" he shot back, "I'm going to win, and feed you my load." The gluttony continued for hours; pastries followed by pizza, a few cold, greasy Whoppers washed down by cans of beer; both men's bellies looked ready to burst. They were both drunk and bloated, but neither wanted to give in.

I cleared the table, and said "It's been a close race so far; now it's time for the tie-breaker." In front of each I placed a large cheesecake, thick and rich and sweet. Both men dove into it, although I could see Paul was straining. Halfway through it, he grabbed his distended belly and gasped "Enough; I can't finish."

Don kept right on going until his was gone. He stood up, his hugely bloated paunch jutting out in front of him, swaying as he staggered to the bed and collapsed on his back. I looked at Paul. "You know what to do," I said softly. Paul stumbled over to the bed and dropped to his knees, his swollen belly hanging in front of him, burying his face in Don's crotch, sucking noisily. As he did this I took the other half of the cheesecake Paul couldn't finish and began shoving it into Don's mouth. He gulped down chunks of cheesecake and licked the crumbs from my fingers. When he was finished I turned my attention to Paul. He was on his hands and knees sucking away, his overstuffed belly hanging down like an over inflated balloon. I went behind him and laid my hard cock on his ass, and reached around to fondle his full stomach. He let out a low moan at my touch, his hips flexing, causing his belly to rock back and forth. I jammed my cock into him and started pumping, his ass clamped on my dick. Don came first, but I wasn't far behind. As I shot my load, Paul began shooting his, grunting and groaning as he did. We collapsed in a pile of food, cum, and bloated bellies.

That was six months ago. Don and Paul have been regular visitors since that Friday night. They stop by for "dinner" at least once a week. Both are progressing nicely.

Don just broke 300 pounds last week, weighing in at 302 pounds. He's taken to wearing suspenders to hold his pants up, which also emphasizes his enormous belly, and wears his pants low, allowing his 60 inch gut to spill over the waist of his pants. Paul has gone from 185 to 240 pounds, and shows no sign of slowing down. His gut is measuring 48 inches around, and protrudes out over his size 40 pants. His face is rounder now, and his jaw softer, sporting a great double chin. His appetite is immense, and he has no problem keeping up with, and sometimes outdoing, Don in their weekly eating contests; there have been quite a few times recently where Don ends up with his mouth on Paul's cock and my cock up his ass, although I haven't heard him complain too much. In fact, he called this morning to say they would be stopping by tonight.

Turns out he and Paul have a new guy riding with them for training, fresh out of college, 175 pounds of lean muscle. At least for now.

Source: http://web.archive.org/web/20060204001152/http://www.gainerweb.com/archives/stories/stories/breakdown.shtml
Category: realistic | Added by: existimator (2012-07-12) | Author: JB
Views: 3120 | Rating: 3.0/2
Total comments: 0
Only registered users can add comments.
[ Sign Up | Log In ]