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Two weeks later the dial on the scales spun around and bounced
until it stopped squarely on 302. This is fucking hot! My cock was
practically beating itself on my underbelly, as hard as it was
throbbing. I don't think I had ever shot a load so big or so far as
For lunch Dave and I hit one of our regular haunts and got our
regular table with a familiar waitress. We always tip well, and she
keeps my glass topped off with root beer. I was plowing through
my 5th or 6th plate when Dave reached across the table
--mid-sentence-- and harpooned a meatball from my pile. The
swiftness of moving his thickly muscled torso and arm to get it so
fast totally amazed me, and I felt a slight breeze as he swept it
away and popped it into his mouth.
"Eh, these aren't bad, but not nearly as good as the ones I make,"
he said thoughtfully.
"You cook?" I asked, hoping to open up a better subject than
hockey and pickup trucks.
"Fuck yeah! Hey, it's Friday and there's a game on tonight. Why
don't you come over and I'll whip up some grub for ya. I might even
make Mom's special meatballs." He grinned widely and winked,
taking me totally by surprise. Even after a month of studying this
guy's every flinch, he never ceased to throw me the occasional
"Sure, man. . . I'll stop by my place after work and change, then I'll
be over, OK?"
"Awesome. " He grinned again, warmer than ever, and
subconsciously rubbed one of his massive pecs.
When I got home, I quickly stripped down to change, but seeing
and feeling my belly, still bloated from the noontime gorging, got me
so horny I just had to relieve some pressure before heading to
Dave's. Maybe now I won't get hard in front of him, I thought. I
threw on my loosest jeans and left my tee shirt untucked, and
headed out. Dave's house had steps up to the back door with no
landing, so I knocked on his door while standing two steps down.
When the door opened, I know I must have had the exact same
expression as the first time I ever saw Dave, because I was staring
straight at the most grotesquely overstuffed basket I'd ever seen. I
had always seen Dave in baggy Dockers, but tonight he was in
skin-tight jeans that left nothing to the imagination. My eyes worked
their way around the bulge, taking careful stock of the outline of a
fat cockhead on one side, and an even bigger, lower bulge of his
nuts on the other. My cock never hangs that far down a leg unless
it's hard, and he was totally soft! And his balls each had to be about
the size of a lemon! His monster unit was separated by the crotch
of his jeans, pulled tight by the muscled bubble butt on the other
side. He wore a tee shirt that was not tucked in, and it cascaded
over his pecs and hung straight down to his waist, leaving it totally
uncertain as to whether he had ripped abs or a modest belly.
"You gonna come in?" He snapped me out of my trance.
"Oh! hehe. . . uhhh. . . yeah. . . hey, how's it going? God something
smells good!" Dave ignored my ogling and ushered me off to the
kitchen. He opened the fridge and grabbed two beers and handed
me one. "You said you liked Molson, right? Well," he laughed,
"you'd better, 'cause I bought a whole damn case of the stuff. Have
as many as you want. It's taking up too much room in the fridge."
The table was set and he started bringing platters and mixing bowls
full of food. There had to be enough to feed 5 or 6 grown men.
"You expecting company? Shit, you cooked a whole cow!" I
"Naw. . . this is all for us. It'll be like going to the buffet, only we've
got enough time to actually fill up for a change."
We sat down and dug in, with Dave gushing about where each
recipe had come from, what he'd altered, and so on. Everything
was so good, I lost count of the number of times I refilled my plate.
Sometimes Dave would put a small portion onto his plate, then a
huge scoop onto mine. "Don't let this stuff go to waste," he said. It's
not as good re-heated."
As I started to slow down, Dave glanced up at the clock. "Hey, I'll
bet the pre-game show is on. He shoved the chair back and stood
up in one movement, again giving me a great view of his
overendowment. He grabbed two more beers from the fridge and
headed into the living room. He put both beers on the coffee table
and dragged it out away from the couch.
It was an old couch, very low but deep to the back. The kind of
overstuffed couch that's easy to sleep on because of its width, and
almost forces you to slouch if you sit and lean back all the way. As I
leaned forward to scoot my chair back, I became very aware of
how totally overstuffed I was. My belly was now a rock-hard
beachball resting low on my lap. My cock stirred as I got up and
waddled to the living room. I felt like the prow of a ship, as I made
my way to the couch. The lowness of the couch took me by
surprise when I sat down, and if I was going to sit up straight, I had
to spread my legs wide and let my belly rest in between, like an
hard boiled egg in a cup. Dave flopped down heavily, close enough
that his arm gently brushed mine. That guy just had no respect for
personal space, and my cock could not have been happier!
He turned on the TV and slouched way down, and I did the same. I
could barely see the TV over my engorged belly, and I glanced over
and noticed that Dave's chin was resting between the tops of his
huge pecs! A cool breeze told me that slouching back had pulled up
my shirt and exposed a great deal of my underbelly, but I didn't
care at this point. Dave rubbed his stomach and moaned. "Man, I
think I overdid it. . . I am SO totally stuffed!"
With that, he pulled up his shirt, revealing big deep cut abs, now
swollen out quite a bit. Each one had to be as big as my bicep, but
instead of laying in a flat row, the whole thing bowed outward like
he'd been hooked to a hose and inflated. The slightest movement of
his arms made his pecs jump to attention, rising even higher around
his chin. God, this can't be real! He leaned a bit my way and a hand
ran up my shirt, taking it up and exposing my pale smooth globe of
"Damn, dude, this thing is awesome! Have you put on a pound or
two in the last month?" His hand traced my belly slowly and so
gently it could have been the hand of a child.
"Fuck yeah, I've put on a pound or two. . . more like 50!" I thought.
"And it's all your damn fault! " His gentle rubbing was becoming
more forceful, till my belly was moving back and forth under his
curious hand. He suddenly came out of his trance and jerked his
hand away, not bothering to re-cover my belly.
"Shit! I almost forgot dessert! Don't get up. . . " and he darted off to
the kitchen again leaving me to ogle his bubble butt this time. No
problem, big guy. I can see you just fine from here. I pulled my shirt
back down to where it had started. If he wants to play with it, he's
got to go in there and get it!
Dave returned with two dinner plates piled high with dessert, and
two more beers pinched expertly between his fingers. "This is
caramel. . . apple. . . turnover. . . cobbler. . . thingee. " He was
turning a plate in front of me for my approval. ". . . a la mode," he
grinned, and gave a satisfied nod. He placed one on top of my belly
as though it were a table, and sat down again.
"Hmmm, this isn't gonna work," I said, and I struggled to sit up. I
spread my legs and let my belly fall forward, pulling me upright, and
started to eat that wonderful concoction. Even sitting up, I could still
rest the plate on my belly. I'd rather put on a show for my host than
drop a crumb on his carpet. There had to be half a pie crumbled up
in there, with Ben & Jerry's Triple Caramel Chunk ice cream and
caramel sauce drizzled over that. This alone would be more than an
average guy could eat in one sitting, and we were both already
stuffed to the gills!
We watched the pre-game show and sucked down our desserts.
It's like there's an understood protocol that anything with ice cream
needs to be eaten before it melts. I laid my empty plate on the
coffee table, chugged the last of what must have been my fifth beer
of the evening, and flopped backwards with an "oof!" My belly stuck
out so far now that it sloshed towards my face as I leaned back,
then returned forward with a clearly audible "gloop!" from inside. To
make my show complete, I locked my fingers behind my head,
arched my back, and pushed my belly out hard with a loud groan.
I'd done this exercise before, to stretch out my abs and make a
swollen belly more comfortable, but only in private. Between the
Molsons and Dave's lack of inhibitions, I was definitely losing my
The stretching made my shirt ride way up, exposing most of my
belly, and I was content to leave it that way. My groan had drawn
Dave's attention away from the TV, and as I relaxed looking at the
ceiling, I heard Dave put his plate on the coffee table.
"Holy shit dude," he said softly as he turned to get closer. His hand
came over and rubbed gently in circles around my belly. I looked
over at him and noticed how his pecs were now squashed together,
forming cleavage deep enough to easily lose my whole hand in, and
he still had a shirt on! "You're gonna fuckin' pop! You all right?"
I let out an audible sigh and laid my head back again. "That feels
good, man," I said quietly. "I think I overdid it a bit, but everything
was so good. So good. "
He smiled over me as he leaned in to massage my tight ball. "Dude,
what do you think you weigh?" he asked. Man, this guy's bedroom
voice was as hot as he was big.
"Gotta be around 305 by now," I said. The beers must have been
kicking in, because my belly felt warm and relaxed under his thick
"I think it looks good on you. . . real good. " My cock started to stir.
May as well go for broke.
"Not half as good as that muscle-bound body of yours, dude. " Was
that a bit over the top?
"Eh, I've got a lot of growing to do yet," he shrugged, a neutral
response to my overt flirting. Could a human possibly get any
bigger? I could feel my boner growing down the inside of a pantleg.
I hoped he was thinking the same thing, because I would be more
than happy to try. I'd get so fucking huge for him.
"Well you're going to start growing a fat belly like mine if you do
much more pigging out like we just did," I said, nodding towards his
puffed out musclebelly, now covered once again.
"Naw," he said, and lifted his shirt again. "I can burn a little snack
like this in one trip to the gym. You should see it after I've had a
shake, you'd really be impressed. "
"A shake?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"You know, a weight gain shake. You don't think I got this big
drinking beer did you? Hehe check this out. . . Stay here. " He
hopped up again and was in the kitchen in two steps. I was still
fascinated by how nimble his body was with the mass he carried.
He returned with a gallon jug and a beer.
"Here's another if you're out," he said as he sat the beer in front of
me. "Watch this, dude. " He stood right in front of me, between me
and the coffee table, and held his shirt up with one hand while
bringing the jug to his lips with the other. He threw his head back
and began to chug the contents of the jug, stopping for one or two
breaths every three or four gulps. I could literally see his
musclebelly swelling before my eyes as the whole gallon
disappeared. The paper-thin tanned skin on his abs stretched
tighter with each swallow. He seemed totally intent on getting it all
in, and his hand began to roam around, feeling the growing
curvature. I also couldn't help but notice his cockhead was getting
fatter and was sliding further down his pantleg.
"Wow!" I breathed, and sat up from where I'd been propped on my
elbows. My face was now inches from his swollen musclebelly, and
better yet, inches from his monstrous cock! I placed both hands on
his eight-pack and felt the last swallows going in. I began a gentle
massage as he finished the jug and smiled down at me between his
"You like that, do ya?" he asked softly. He put the jug on the coffee
table and grabbed the shirt, pulling it over his head and off. This
was the first time I had actually seen his pecs, and as his beefy
arms came back down the muscle piled up on his chest and puffed
out bigger and bigger. His pecs came to rest hanging several inches
out over the upper row of abs, so big that the large brown
cone-shaped nipples pointed straight down at his inflated
musclebelly. I've never seen bigger pecs, not even on pro
bodybuilders. They started at his collar bone and rose straight out,
almost perfectly spherical, tanned and without a single hair. They
were so wide that when he stood relaxed, his arms rested in the
valley between his pecs and his lats. This guy's chest had to be no
less than three feet wide.
"Holy fuckin' shit! Dude, you're awesome!" I resumed exploring his
belly, this time letting my hands wander high enough to brush his
nipples. He stood leaning back slightly, his arms resting in their
normal bow, and smiled. His cock was now throbbing, the head
about to burst through the denim halfway to his knee.
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