oh no my goddess it seems you’ve gained a lot of weight. Your tits are spilling out and nothing seems to fit anymore. What a perfect look for you 🥵
I’m the same weight, my belly is just more swollen and plump now as soon as my belly gets full it it turns into this big hard belly ball and I can barely breathe. Even if im not stuffed, it involuntarily expands like this and I just have to let my big full belly out.
My new dormmate sat on the edge of his bed, his face buried in a textbook and a dozen donuts at his side.
He looked up when he saw me wheeling in all my luggage. I clearly needed help, but he didn't offer. Didn't get off his fat ass.
Not a great first impression.
"Welcome! You're Louis, right?"
I dropped my duffel bag onto the bed at the opposite side of the room. "Yup. And you're...?"
I was expecting a guy named Paul. The college sent me an email with an information packet about my future dormmate. Paul McNamara. The photo showed a muscular blond guy with a very cute smile. He filled out a questionnaire about himself, too: Liked sports. Ran on the track team at his high school. Youngest of five brothers. Gay.
Needless to say, I was excited to meet him.
And now that I saw my real roommate, a total fatty who never played a sport in his life, a guy who'd rather stuff himself with donuts than help me with my heavy-as-fuck suitcases, my heart understandably sank. The college must've switched out Perfect Paul without telling me.
So much for my expectations.
"I'm Paul!" he introduced himself. "Didn't the school email you my information?"
As a redhead, my face flushed in embarrassment at the drop of a hat. Right now, my cheeks were blotchy pink.
He noticed, but he assumed it was because I was struggling with my bags. "Sorry I'm not helping you move in. I promised someone I wouldn't get off this bed until I finish this."
Okay. Well, at least he was studious. Classes hadn't even started yet and he was already digging into his textbooks. If I couldn't have a hot roommate, at least I had one who wouldn't party all night.
"Of course. Priorities, right?" I unzipped my duffel and started unpacking.
He laughed, choking a little on the donut in his mouth. "Yeah. Priorities."
As I arranged my clothes in my new dresser, Paul put down his book but kept eating. He was on his third donut, I believe. He was chain-eating them, one right after another.
"You seem like a chill guy," he said.
"Thanks." I was pretty embarrassed by my answers to the dormmate questionnaire, especially when my expectations for Paul were... different, but I guess I came off as chill. I'd take that as a compliment.
(And at least I didn't straight-up lie on the form like he did.)
"Most people would, you know, ask follow-up questions."
"About what?"
"About why I can't get off this bed until I finish eating a dozen donuts."
I turned to him. "What's that now?"
"Nothing. I just think it's cool that you didn't act surprised. I mean, you read my info, right? I changed a lot since I answered those questions. Most guys would be curious. That's all."
I was supremely confused. And scared. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
I brought my desk chair to the center of the dorm and sat across from him. "Okay. Yeah. I have questions."
For the first time since I got there, he stopped eating. He sat up straight, forcing his shirt to rise a little. The bottom droop of his belly was exposed. I tried not to look at it.
"Thought so," he said. "What do you want to know?"
I shrugged.
"Well, I couldn't afford tuition. I have four older brothers and my parents didn't have any money left over for me. I tried to get a track and field scholarship, but I wasn't good enough. So I got a benefactor."
"A what?"
"You don't know what a benefactor is?"
"No. I do. I just..."
"He's paying for everything. In exchange for..." He slapped his belly. "Growth."
"A guy's paying you to get fat?"
"Sort of. It's more that he's paying me to eat. He sends over food and gives me instructions. Like right now, I can't stand up until..." (He burped.) "Until I finish..."
"Got it." I paused. "And is it worth it?"
He looked down at the box. He had half of them left. There was real strain on his face. He was already painfully stuffed. "Money's money. I miss running, which I can't really do anymore. But, you know, it's kind of fun, too. I like a challenge. And there are some... sensations that are nice."
"Okay," I said. What else was I supposed to say?
I pictured the old photo of him. So freaking handsome. It was hard to believe that he changed so much in, what? Four months? That's how long ago I filled out the questionnaire.
It didn't seem physically possible.
"You're freaked out," he said.
"No. I... I get it. College is expensive. I had to take out a bunch of loans."
"Really? You know, if you're looking for some extra cash, my benefactor is always looking for new piggies."
New piggies. Jesus.
"Naw. I'm good."
He studied my face for a long time. "Wanna feel it?"
"What?"
He answered my question by grabbing his belly and kneading it with his fingers.
Why would he want me to...?
This was insane! My new dormmate was insane.
But why was I...? Why was I considering the offer? Why was I so curious?
I guess precisely because it was insane.
He patted the bed, an offer for me to sit next to him.
And fuck it. That's exactly what I did. My morbid curiosity got the best of me and I sat next to him.
He smiled. He pulled up his shirt and tucked the fabric under his moobs. Then he waited.
With shaky hands, I reached for his belly. It wasn't just warm. It was hot. And so freaking soft. My brain was telling me to let go, but my fingers wouldn't listen. They explored.
I tested the depth of his fat, pressing in as far as I could. That made him sigh.
Stop this! I thought.
I didn't.
I felt the thick roll under his chest.
He sighed again. He liked being touched.
"I was sporty all my life. I used to have abs." As he talked, he grabbed another donut and restarted his binge. The strain on his face was gone. It was like my hands had taken away his fullness. Or motivated him to keep going. Or... something. "Scratch my stretchmark," he instructed.
He had a single stretchmark, red and fresh, snaking up his lower belly. I traced that with two fingers. Interesting texture. I scratched it a little.
His full mouth moaned.
What are you doing, Louis? You don't know this guy! He's a freak. Why can't you stop touching him?
"I get winded walking up stairs now," he said. "I grunt when I stand."
I grabbed his bottom roll. My hands were more daring. I flopped it around.
"No one in my family is fat," he continued. "My body was never meant to be like this."
"Uh huh." I kept rubbing for God-knows-how-long.
He smiled at me as he chewed. "You're good at this, you know."
That's when I pulled away. This was too much. I never should've...
He swallowed his last donut. "Thank you for the help."
Logically, I didn't understand why rubbing his belly would help him eat, but emotionally, I did. And the fact that I liked it so much, that I liked how he felt... I don't know. I was scared.
"My benefactor is dropping off McDonalds in an hour if you wanna... help again."
No! I'd never do that again! I couldn't.
"Okay," I muttered.
"And you can meet him. Just in case you wanna... you know... earn some extra money."
That offer terrified me. But my hands were still tingling from the unexpected belly rub. And my heart was pounding. And I saw Paul in a whole new light.
He was... He was beautiful.
"O-okay."
"Great," he said cheerfully. "Now, I can help you unpack if you want. It's the least I could do."
He stood with a grunt. Crumbs fell off his shirt.
Was I really considering this? Only time would tell. College, man. It's not what I expected.
The End
Thanks for reading! If you liked this, check out my ebooks College Makes Me Fat and You’re Not His Type.
