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I wasn't too keen on the move, but the boss said I had to. The end
of the fat-and-happy 90's left our company scrambling to
consolidate facilities and trim costs wherever possible. This meant
that my 20 minute commute was about to become an hour. Well,
the fat-and happy 90's had also left me fat-and-happy. I'd given up
trying to find a workout partner at the gym, heck, I only went to look
at the other people there anyway.
I had discovered gaining chat rooms and found that these fantasies
I'd had since childhood weren't weird at all, and spent a year trying
to find someone in the area to fatten up. Finally I just gave up and
started on myself. It was really fun exploring my scientific curiosity.
I tried gainer shakes, heavy cream, [that stuff is gross, but it
works!], and I found all of the all-you-can-eat places within close
driving distance of the office. I would take a newspaper with me, or
something I'd printed out from the web, get a remote table and just
Slowly, methodically, cleaning one plate, reaching a stopping place
in my reading, and loading up another, I loved the feeling of eating
till it absolutely hurt. I got really horny each time I would notice that
my shirt was spreading between buttons, while it had fit fine when I
came in. I also spent a lot of time glancing over my paper to watch
the really big guys loading up at the buffet. I loved seeing them lean
way in to get to something in the back, while their bellies totally
enveloped the tray table in soft blubber. Some of those guys must
have been well over 400 pounds, and it looked like they all wore the
same size shirt! I couldn't take my eyes off the big wobbly bellies
that took the shape of the skin-tight polo shirts, and I imagined what
the struggle must look like to get the shirt tucked in. I tried to
picture what they must look like with the shirt off, big huge tits
resting atop a soft bloated belly with its cavernous belly button.
God, I'm in heaven!
I also loved seeing the young construction workers, the guys who
had been the big tough jocks in high school. Now they wore their
shirts untucked in the hopes that no one would see what a year or
two of food, beer and inactivity can do. In a year and a half I had
gone from 210 pounds of mostly muscle to 260 pounds of mostly
fat, and on my 6-foot frame, it was really starting to show. My belly
was rounding out nicely, and it turned me on just to walk down the
hall. It had grown out so that there was a nice round paunch
hanging beyond my belt, and each step I took would cause it to pull
downward. I could get a rhythm going if I didn't think anyone was
looking, and by the time I got to the end of the hall my cock was
raging hard and demanding attention.
My goal was to see what 300 to 350 pounds was like. I mean, this
was all just scientific curiosity. If it started to affect my health, or if
I didn't like it, I could always lose it again. Losing weight had never
really been tough for me. Now I was discovering how fucking hot it
felt to get fat. I had never been so horny in all my life. Every night I
would finish a huge dinner and jerk off rubbing my belly and fall
And now the move. I hated having to pack up books and prototype
parts from my shelves and desk, hated having to finally sort through
the stacks of papers I had kept for some reason, now unknown. I
scavenged boxes from all over, and loaded as much as I could into
the truck. It was amazing how quickly I'd get out of breath just
walking up and down the stairs a couple of times to load the boxes.
I also discovered that it felt the most comfortable to carry the boxes
under my belly, letting it rest on top. Unloading the truck meant
doing it all again, this time for a new audience.
I recognized a few faces at my new building, as I'd seen them in
meetings, but most of the faces were new. I could feel eyes on me
every second, being the new guy.
"You're Scott, aren't you?" came a voice from behind me as I bent
to put a box down in my cube. I turned around to greet quite
possibly the biggest, most muscular man I'd ever seen in person.
"I'm Dave, Dave Parker? I know we've e-mailed a bunch for the
U152 program, but I don't think we've ever met. Welcome to the
This guy was fucking HUGE. . . I don't even know the names for all
the muscles that were bulging grotesquely beneath his baggy
business-casual attire. His head was propped between monstrous
delts, his shoulders went out past the sleeve seams of his shirt, and
the muscles connecting his shoulders to his pecs formed a shelf
beneath his chin that I could have stood my books on. His arms
stuck out from his sides to accommodate the enormous lats that
grew there, and his biceps rested like huge slabs of meat, actually
hanging a bit under their own weight. Anything from the edge of his
chest-shelf to his waist was a mystery, as the baggy shirt was
pulled down into his pants. He was obviously wearing pants that
were much bigger than his waist, to make room for his massive
legs. A belt cinched the pants so tight that it left folds in the
waistband. His voice was normal, even soft, not like the bass I
would have expected from this cartoon of a man.
"You look like you could use some help there. " His words shook
me out of my trance, and I blushed as I wondered how long I'd
"Uhhh. . . yeah. . . sure could." My mental engines start up slowly.
As I stood up, I noticed his eyes dart down to my belly and back up
again. It's something I have become aware of only after putting on
a gut, and I now understand what women with large breasts
He smiled warmly as I extended my hand, and his engulfed mine in
a warm handshake. "I've got a few more boxes down in the truck. "
"Oh, a pickup man. . . What do you drive?"
"Dodge Ram. It's my baby."
"Cool. I'll have to show you mine sometime. It's at home today
'cause it was too damn nice out to leave my bike at home."
I tried making polite conversation while not letting on too much that I
was totally fascinated with this guy's physique. If I'd met him two
years ago, I might have never gotten so damn fat. We brought the
last boxes in, and I got to follow him up the stairs, this mountain of
man gliding gracefully in front of me. I hurried to keep up and ended
up panting at the top of the stairs. As much as I wanted to stare at
him all day, I really wished that Dave would go away so I could
start hunting local buffets.
I also didn't think my cock could stay still for much more of this.
Every move he made caused waves of muscle to dance beneath his
"Hey, it's gettin' close to lunch time. You wanna go grab something?
Crap. I'm stuck with Schwartzenegger for sprouts and garbanzo
beans. I hope this doesn't become a habit. "Yeah, sure. . . what's
"I was thinkin' we could hit a buffet, that way we can both get
whatever we want," said Dave. I hope I didn't smile too quickly, but
this guy probably didn't realize how much he was helping me out.
Dave arranged himself a tiny salad and I fell into my old habit,
loading a plate as high as I could with pasta, meatballs, pizza, beef,
mashed potatoes and gravy, and an assortment of chicken wings.
"Dude, you're allowed to go back again," Dave joked as we sat
down. We started talking and I started eating. We talked about
work, cars, where we'd gone to school, and I went back for plate
after plate while Dave nursed his salad. He was pleasant and fun to
talk to, and I just totally let myself pig out.
After the fourth heaping plate of food, I tossed my napkin onto the
table and said "Oof, I think I overdid it." My belly was stuffed tight
and was just beginning to feel sore. I was breathing in short quick
breaths that I tried to keep silent so as not to embarrass myself
"What? you didn't even hit the dessert bar yet!" Dave smiled and
got up. God, he was hot and I just wanted to watch him walk away.
He was sexy as hell from any angle.
"Come on," he said, and I got up and followed slowly. Dave loaded
up a dinner plate with desserts, short cake, cheesecake, cookies,
brownies, and he also got a bowl of soft-serve ice cream with
sprinkles. Was this guy nuts? I followed suit, showing clearly that I
knew my way around a dessert bar. The trip gave my belly time to
stretch out some, and we sat down and dove in. I totally outpaced
Dave, and he finished the ice cream and a brownie and one piece
of cake and stopped.
I was just scooping up the last of a brownie slathered in chocolate
syrup when he belched and said "Ugh. I don't think I can eat any
more. God it's a shame to take food and then not eat it. . . You
want these? I haven't touched them or nothing. "
He gestured to the plate still heaped with desserts and I felt my
belly tighten a bit. What was this guy thinking? I can't eat all that!
He shoved the plate over to me and went back to talking about
trucks. I started to eat again, totally hypnotized by his enthusiasm.
"Oh shit," he said as he checked his watch. "We better get back. "
I grabbed the last cookie, threw a big tip, and we headed out. Man
my gut was fucking killing me as I flopped into the truck. I had never
noticed before, but my belly was just barely brushing the steering
wheel. . . Had that ever happened before? Holy shit!
I parked next to Dave when I got back, and he got out and waited
for me. There was no amount of slouching or sucking-in that would
hide my belly now. I was so damn full that the only way to keep my
belly from hurting was to arch my back a bit and actually push it
"Man, we almost put that place outta business," Dave laughed as
he laid a hand on my belly. "I think there's enough food in there to
feed a starving nation." His fingers massaged it a bit, as though to
get a sense of its softness. "There's a couple other places like that
around here we can hit if you're interested. Some are a bit cheaper
than that one, but they're not as close."
Man was I close. . . close to shooting a huge load! Did he just say
what I think he just said? He took his hand away, totally oblivious as
to whether I liked being touched or not, and we walked back to the
I have met guys like him before, guys who were so comfortable in
their body and their sexuality that they could touch anyone
anywhere and think nothing of it. I had been becoming increasingly
shy about being touched as I gained, but for some reason I felt at
ease with this guy, like any chance to get him to touch me put me
one step closer to touching him back.
Hitting the buffets soon became our routine, and Dave became my
lunch buddy. I was too timid to ask him about his physique, and too
timid to ask what he thought of mine. All I knew was that I was
pigging out every day to the gentle encouragement of a man that
my greatest fantasies could never create. Each day I pushed
myself to eat more than the day before, and though Dave never
said it directly, I knew he was enjoying this as much as I was. Like
a good typist can type without looking at the keyboard, I could eat
without thinking, just absorbed in conversation with Dave. And like
most bodybuilders, he had a habit of unconsciously flexing and
feeling himself while talking to me, which only made me eat more.
Two weeks after moving to the new office I had to buy new shirts,
and I placed an order for new 42" waist pants. . . even though I
was still comfortable in 38's. Wishful thinking, I guess. A month
after our first lunch outing, I weighed myself fresh out of the
shower. I had to lean way forward to see over my belly, which
seemed to be growing almost straight out. 290?! Jesus Christ! My
cock was at attention and throbbing, so I headed for my recliner
with a box of tissues and a head full of images of Dave. My belly
rose up high when I slouched down, and rocking fast with my foot
would make it slosh up and down. Fuck I want more!!! I'm gonna
blow by 300 so fucking fast, 350's gonna happen in two more
months! Then what?? My belly was already more erotic than I could
have ever imagined. . . it stood straight out like I was 9 months
pregnant. Lathering it up in the shower was enough to get my cock
throbbing, and now I wanted to see just how sexy this could get!
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