| Home » Articles » English Stories » realistic | [ Add new entry ] |
Bus Stop - Part 2
| Wow, the hottest guy I had ever met had just asked me back to his place, and I couldn't believe what I was about to say. "Chris, as much as I want to," I began, "I never go home with someone on the first date. Especially if I really want to have a second date." I looked at him apprehensively, hoping he wouldn't react badly. He looked a bit down for a second, then he smiled and looked into my eyes. "Okay Dave, I respect that," he replied, "And believe me, I really want another date too." So, that was where we left it on that first night. But it wasn't too long before our dates together would finish up at either of our places, and they were the most fun and passionate nights I had ever had. We got on so well that six months later Chris had moved into my place and rented his place out to cover the mortgage. Although I knew I loved Chris dearly, I also knew that my desire for really big guys was still quite strong. I often thought about broaching the subject of gaining with him, but could never work up the nerve or work out how to start that conversation. I had no idea what his feelings were, but after that first date where he said he liked his gut, I thought it wouldn't seem too left-field to him. He always had a good appetite, and we sometimes worked food into our love-making, but it's still a big jump from that to gaining. However I didn't have to worry for too long. One night in front of the TV, Chris looked like he had something on his mind. I hit the mute button and swivelled to face him on the couch. "Is there something you want to talk about stud?" I asked. "Yeah, there is, it's been building for a while, but I just don't know how to say it," Chris replied. I immediately thought it was something I had done, and the look on my face must have expressed exactly the same thing, because he grabbed my hand and continued, "It's nothing about you, D, it's... it's..." Chris trailed off. I was getting really worried now, so I squeezed his hand and tried to smile in a supportive way. "What ever it is Chris, just tell me," I said quietly. He nodded, took a deep breath and started. "Well, remember our first date, when you said that you liked my body..." I smiled again, and rubbed his belly. "Sure I remember. And I still do," I added. I wasn't exactly sure where this was going, but one of the possibilities was very exciting. "Well, I've been thinking... uh... it's just that... um... well, I think that I want to see what it's like to be, uh, bigger... you know, to gain some weight..." he said, as he searched my eyes, looking for a reaction. He got one - I fell off the couch. He knelt down and helped me up again. "I knew it, it's too weird, I shouldn'tve said anything..." he muttered, looking at his feet. I leant over and gave him a long kiss, which I'm sure he wasn't expecting. When I pulled away, he looked at me, puzzled. "What was that for, you mean... you're okay with it?" With a huge smile, I replied, " Okay with it? I think it's fantastic! Chris, you know I love you, regardless of your appearance, but I would love to help you out with this, if it's what you want." I tried to filter some of my enthusiasm, but I'm not sure if it worked. "How much bigger do you want to get?" I asked as casually as I could. "I really don't know," Chris replied. "I guess I just want to get bigger until I'm happy with myself." I considered myself a bit more knowledgeable about the whole "process" than Chris, from countless hours on the Internet, so I suggested we should chart his progress and collect some stats to track. He was 285 pounds, with a 56" belly. We tried to get a few more measurements, but it took quite a while as it was a very sensual experience. Once we had finished, he grabbed the tape measure and said with a smile, "Your turn, D." I was a bit surprised, but I thought it was only fair. I stripped down like Chris had done. I was 270 and 52". Then it suddenly dawned that my fantasy was going to be realised, but I hadn't asked about his. "Chris, what about me? Do you find me attractive the way I am?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was fishing for a compliment. "Of course I do, D," he replied genuinely. But I had to know. "Could I be more attractive to you? Is there anything that you would chang..." I stopped, realising that was a horrible question to answer. "I mean, would you like me if I was more muscly, or thinner, or heavier?" That question wasn't much better. "Dave, I love you no matter how you look...", Chris said, but then hesitated. I decided to be firm. "Chris, honest answer. Please." He looked into my eyes. "Okay, I'll admit it, I like bigger guys. I certainly wouldn't complain if you were heavier. But that doesn't mean anything... what you want is the most important thing to me." But my mind was already ticking over. I hadn't considered myself a gainer before, I always thought I'd just encourage, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. "Bad news, I'm afraid," I said in a mock-serious tone, but Chris missed the mock part of it. "What?" he asked, terrified. "Our grocery bill. With both of us pigging out, it's going to be huge..." "Oh, you bastard!" Chris replied, then love-slapped my exposed belly for scaring him. "Dave, I love you. This is great... really great." Chris and I took our mutual gaining slowly to start with, learning our limits and our comfort zones. We'd hit an all-you-can-eat place for dinner, then head home for dessert, often using each other as plates. There was always a bowl of M&Ms close by, and plenty of beer in the fridge. Chris seemed more of a natural - he could always eat more than me, but I tried to keep up as best I could. After a month, he had put on nearly 15 pounds, and me 10. Our capacities grew steadily over the months, until I could put away more food than I ever imagined, and Chris could eat enough for an army. Dessert was always our favourite meal - Chris would lie back on the bed, and I would sit a cheesecake or pie on his belly and we'd feed each other big spoonfuls - then I got to lick the crumbs. We celebrated the day Chris hit 300 - a big chocolate baked cheesecake and a big bowl of whipped cream. That day, I was only up to 285 - Chris's starting weight. But I could tell that Chris liked the changes, and I certainly liked the way he was looking. We had both been doing some weights for the upper body, and the combination of his muscly arms and chest, and the big gut hanging below was unbelievable! We started to get a few comments from our friends, some polite, some snide, but they only encouraged us more. We said that we were happy and enjoying life, and that's all that matters, and our friends accepted that. But I could tell that Chris wasn't totally happy; he acted it most of the time, but occasionally he seemed a bit down. A few weeks later, when he had hit 315 and I was at 296, I asked him about it. "Chris, is anything the matter? Did I do something...?" "Nah stud," Chris replied. "It's nothing you've done. It's just that I... uh... well, it's taking a while, that's all. I know, I know," he said, seeing the look on my face," We've got to take it slowly, look long-term and all that... but I'm really enjoying it, and I want to gain more." "How much more?" I asked. "I dunno, but this 30 pounds doesn't seem like much at all," he said, grabbing a bit of his gut that I wasn't massaging, "I reckon 400 is my target". I was ecstatic at that, but then wondered what he had in store for me. "Hon, what about me? How big would you like me to get?" I asked nervously. I was loving being nearly 300, but couldn't imagine getting a whole lot bigger. Chris thought for a second. "Of course, it's your body, and it's up to you... but I reckon you'd be amazing at about, uh, 600..." I nearly fell off the sofa again, then Chris said with a laugh, "I'm kidding Dave, geez!" I gave him a filthy look and tried to start my heart beating again. "Well Dave, how big do you want to get?" he asked me. I looked at him blankly. I didn't really have a number in mind. He sensed this, and so continued, "I reckon about 350 would be perfect on you. Bigger, rounder gut and pecs, fuller double chin, mmm." Chris licked his lips seductively. I thought this over, and then agreed. "OK stud, it's a deal," I said. "Now, how do you propose we speed things up then?" Chris smiled. That night, as we were getting ready, I glanced around the bedroom. About a week's worth of groceries was stacked around the room, along with cans of gainer shake. Chris's hands were loosely tied to the bed posts. We had just come home from our favourite buffet, but you'd never guess that from Chris's attitude. "Let's go, stud," Chris said, with mock-impatience. I smiled at him in a 'you'll regret that' sort of way, and began. Straddling his growing belly, I proceeded to stuff him with all sorts of sweet, rich and delicious food. Donuts, ice cream, apple pie and of course, cheesecake. And between each food, a tall glass of shake to wash it down. I could feel his gut swelling beneath me, taking in everything I fed to him. He started to slow down after a couple of hours, but was determined to finish everything. I couldn't believe how much he had eaten as I put the last chocolate donut in his mouth. "That was amazing, stud," I said, looking into his eyes while massaging his unbelievably huge gut. He looked up at me, smiled and said, "It's your turn tomorrow," an evil grin on his face. I didn't do as well as he had the night before, but I still did pretty well the first time Chris stuffed me. Pizza, pasta, then more donuts, cheesecake and gainer shake. After a few hours, my gut was packed tight, and it felt fantastic. Chris was a great belly-rubber, and massaged me until I fell asleep. This then became a regular event, probably a couple of times a week for each of us. There was no more complaining from Chris - only two months after he was 315, he was now tipping 375, according to our last 'weigh-in'. He carried nearly all of it in his gut too, a beautiful round gut that stuck straight out from under his muscly pecs and arced down to cover his dick from view. His love handles were solid and so thick that I could only just get my hands around them. I wasn't that far behind either - these sessions had boosted me from 296 to 335, and I was loving it. I loved the way my gut swayed when I walked, the way it spread when I sat down and the way that Chris played with it whenever he could. As I edged closer to 350, and Chris to 400, I was actually not looking forward to stopping our stuffing sessions, as I was enjoying them, and the gut they gave me, so much, and it seemed that Chris was too. I debated whether to mention this to Chris, but decided that I couldn't. The next time we checked our stats, I stepped on the scale and it read '345'. I was stoked at this number, apart from it's closeness to the 350 cut off. Chris spoke first. "Wow, excellent D," he began, half-heartedly, "I guess we should finish up the stuffing sessions soon, huh? That's nearly the 350 that you wanted." I sort of nodded, and stepped off. Then it was Chris's turn. The digital numbers jumped around until they read '394'. I smiled to show how happy I was for him. "Same for you, stud," I replied as he stepped down, "You're pretty much at the 400 mark." I couldn't believe what happened next. We both looked each other in the eye and blurted out, "I don't want to stop!" We stared in amazement at each other for a moment then grabbed each other in a passionate, fleshy hug. Permission given by OzBoy01
| |
| Views: 3837 | |
| Total comments: 0 | |