I have always been attracted to fat men and had the desire to become one myself. I struggled throughout my college career to put on weight. I would binge for weeks and put on about ten pounds, only to become stressed and overworked resulting in me losing the weight. It was a frustrating cycle. I never had the time to truly transform my body into the jiggly ideal in my head. Once I graduated, I knew it was my time to grow. Before entering a master’s program, I decided I would take a year off to save money and gain weight. Between June and December I made a lot of progress. I gained about thirty pounds in six months, going from six foot and 150 pounds to 180 some odd pounds. It felt great. I wasn’t fat by any means, but I had filled out. I felt more in control of my body and like I had more of a presence when I entered a room. These gains were assisted by a new boyfriend I had met, Liam, on grommr. He was much fatter than me and had a well-developed paunch when we met. The combination of his encouragement and simply being around someone who ate so goddamn much really assisted in my weight gain.
I flew home to a small town in Southern California for Thanksgiving. It was sad parting ways for a week with the boyfriend, but the prospect of a gluttonous Thanksgiving was enticing. My family was rather traditional when it came to holidays and Thanksgiving was always an expansive, fattening, home cooked affair. I had been practicing bloating for weeks before hand so I could be sure to stuff myself to maximum capacity. In addition, my family had yet to see my thirty pound weight gain. When I arrived, I received several comments about how I’d “filled out.” Most of them were compliments amounting to how I looked more like a man, and much older. When feasting began I shocked everyone with how much food I consumed. I by far was the biggest eater at the table and filled up my plate four times. My stomach was so distended by the end of the day that it almost looked like a deformity. When I returned home, Liam raved that I was noticeably fatter. The scale had only shown a two pound weight gain, but he claimed it felt like more. Still, I was definitely excited and felt like an overweight BMI was just within my reach.
Liam and I both had plans to spend December and January with our respective famillies. We decided to make a rather fattening deal. After two months, when we returned home, we both had to have gained 25 pounds. If one or both of us failed to meet this criteria, the punishment would be 7,000 calories a day for two weeks.
After two weeks of home cooking and holiday treats, I had already packed on twelve pounds. And it was starting to get noticeable. My belly poked out above my waistline. T-shirts and sweaters clung tightly to my midsection. I was a cliche, my weight quickly rising due to holiday sweets and egg nog. No one made any comments, as I assumed they figured I would lose it all in the spring. What they didn’t know was that my gut would continue to grow and that my newfound potbelly was a source of constant eroticism. My cock grew hard at every meal, and even the slightest jiggle of my belly would leave me dripping precum. By the time Christmas day arrived I was about 15 pounds heavier than when I’d first arrived at home. I was greatly looking forward to Christmas dinner, which was typically a bigger affair than Thanksgiving in my house. My mom made a spread with all of the traditional holiday food, but went especially crazy with the desserts. There were more cakes, pies, cookies, cobblers, and loafs than our family could ever consume in a day.
After exchanging presents, my body was ready to gorge. I was jittery with excitement at the prospect of stuffing my gut as full as I possibly could with delicious fattening food. Once dinner began, I made no attempt at hiding my gluttony. I inhaled my first plate of food within minutes. I got a couple comments about how hungry I was. I would only smile and agree as I loaded up plate after mountainous plate of food. My belly was swelling under the tight knit sweater I was wearing. After three plates of ham, turkey, rolls, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and yams all drowned in gravy I began on the dessert foods. My gut was significantly bloated. My uncle was surprised that I was still “going so strong on the food.” While my mom made a comment that I better “watch my eating” as my “midsection is growing by the day.” A few other family members remarked with supportive jokes about how I was a growing boy and that everyone gets a a little portly over the holidays. My cock was rock hard and mashed against my thigh in my skinny jeans. I eventually had a healthy serving of every dessert at the table and seconds for some. By the time I was finished, my stomach looked abnormally bloated and I was in great pain. Once everyone finished, I retired to my bedroom and immediately took a nap.
I woke up groggy and with an intense boner. I looked at the clock and it was 1 AM. I’d slept for several hours. I went outside and smoked a bowl then proceeded to watch A Christmas Story. Soon enough, the munchies began to set in, and the massive food baby that was working its way through my system, suddenly seemed to vanish. I was ravenously hungry. I began to storm the leftovers, eating pieces of pie and cake so large that I was shocked at my own gluttony. I was stuffing my face with everything I could get my hands on. I began to get enormously turned on and decided to bring the food to my room so I could eat and jerk off. I covered my bed with plates of delicious sweets and began eating with no hands like the hungry hog I was. Meanwhile, I stroked my cock and massaged my belly fat. I was getting food all over my fattening body, which I would lick and scrape off. I was determined to consume everything that I brought. I tried fucking the cobbler and then eating the filling off my dick. I was swallowing so much food that I hardly even recognized what was going into my mouth. Whatever I could get my hands on was swallowed. I cleaned all the plates in what seemed like no time at all. I finally let myself cum and shot my load across the room in moans of ecstasy. I passed out sticky and bloated.
A few weeks passed and New Year’s came and went. I had gained 4 pounds just on Christmas day alone and continued to pack on the weight like I was an animal going into hibernation. I could barely fit into the outfit I had planned for New Year’s Eve festivities, which was slightly embarrassing, but still incredibly hot. Hungover the next morning, I looked through the photos on my phone and on Facebook of the night before. I had gotten completely wasted and didn’t remember much. I was shocked to see just how far my belly protruded out of my denim jacket. In several photos my shirt was riding up to reveal a swollen and hairy abdomen. Even my face looked a little fatter. A slight double chin appeared in certain angles. This was the first time I had a good look at all the weight I had gained and was truly shocked. I looked fat.
I went to the bathroom and began examining myself in the mirror. My gut was on the verge of an overhang, ten more pounds and it would happen. I had even started to develop a fat pad. I knew my thighs had gotten thicker, but looking in the mirror I realized they were almost touching. I squeezed and jiggled my ass cheeks, Liam was going to love playing with those. Slight love handles were apparent from behind. I wanted them to grow. I got inches from the mirror to examine my neck fat. If I looked down or tucked my chin in, I developed a definite double chin. To top it all off, my entire body looked a tad bit hairier. I’d always had a decent patch of chest hair, but now it was spreading from shoulder to shoulder. I wondered if weight gain sparked hair growth.
I’d stopped tracking my weight since Christmas because I was confident I would meet, and likely surpass, the 25 pounds I promised Liam. The trip home had come to an end, and I was noticeably larger than when I’d arrived. Barely any of my clothes fit. I couldn’t wait for Liam to see. When I arrived at our apartment, he was sitting on the couch. I could tell he’d gained weight but not merely as much as me. We embraced and began fooling around. He was shocked and amorous of my newly formed love handles and jiggly beer gut. He squeezed handfuls of both and asked how much I’d gained. I told him I didn’t know and had stopped weighing myself. Liam revealed he had only gained 15 pounds. At first I was disappointed, but the prospect of the next week of gluttony was going to be amazing for Liam. We had wild sex exploring the new curves of each other’s bodies.
Later that night, Liam coaxed me out of bed and onto the scale. I was shocked at the number that appeared. No way was I that fat now. 223 pounds. I had gained over forty pounds in two months. This realization caused my cock to stiffen and rise against my newly rounded, hanging, belly.
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