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Hank

An Instant Weight Gain Story

Hank pressed his muscle gut against me, pinning me to the wall. “You free?” he growled.

The answer was no. I still had to do our laundry and get dinner ready. I didn’t have time for mid-afternoon sex.

But, well, Hank always got his way. If he was in the mood, then I inevitably gave in.

That’s what I used to like about him. As a tall, muscly guy myself, I’d never been with someone like Hank before. He was bigger than me (both with muscle and fat). He knew what he wanted and took it.

After a series of slim, feminine boyfriends, I was excited by this new dynamic. Why not, right?

Well, it had been two years, and I wasn’t happy anymore. Without realizing it, I’d changed everything about myself. I did all the cooking and cleaning. I was always on standby in case Hank needed an ass to pound. I reflexively checked in on him throughout the day and asked permission if I wanted to meet up with friends. And I never topped anymore.

There were things I still liked about our dynamic. (He made me feel protected. Plus, he showered me with gifts.) But every day, the dissatisfaction at the base of my stomach festered and grew.

Hank’s large hands grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bedroom. He was already breathing heavy, anticipating what he was gonna do to me. He pushed me onto the bed and pulled out our bottle of lube.

“Get in position,” he growled.

I was hard, of course. Hank’s raw masculinity still got to me. But my mind was whirring. And for the first time in years, I said, “Let me top you this time.”

He let out a hearty laugh. Then he stopped. “Oh. You’re serious.”

A part of me wanted to give in. Say I was just joking.

But no. I couldn’t do that. “Yeah. Can you handle it?”

He laughed again, taking my question as a challenge. “You think I can’t?”

“I think you must be pretty sore from the gym,” I said, gently pulling him onto the bed with me. “Just for today. Come on. Let me… treat you.”

That seemed to work. He smiled as he rolled onto his stomach and raised his thick, muscular ass.

I got a little nervous. It had been years since I’d done this. And I’m pretty sure Hank had never bottomed before. He certainly hadn’t with me.

I had to prove myself.

Thankfully, he hadn’t eaten yet, and he already took his post-gym shower. His beefy body was clean and as ready as it was gonna get.

“Hurry before I change my mind,” he barked, still calling the shots.

I positioned myself behind him, spread him open, and started with my tongue. He seemed to like that. His breathing got heavier and his arms gave out, leaving his face and chest pressed against the pillows.

I took my time. He wasn’t clenching, but he was so damn tight. My tongue hadn’t lost any of its skills, though, and when his ring twitched under my flicks, I knew I was on the right track.

So I lubed up my hands and started massaging.

He moaned a few times. Actually, it was more of a growl, the kind of sound he made after a heavy meal. He bucked a little, pushing his ass toward me in a silent plea to keep going.

Okay. This was it.

I guided my shaft into him. Carefully. Slowly. Just enough to make him clench.

“Stop,” he grumbled. “I don’t…”

“Go with it,” I whispered, slapping his cheek. “You can handle it.”

That was my key to unlocking him. If I mentioned his manliness, he’d push through the pain. As I went deeper, I kept going back to that tactic:

“A tough guy like you can take it.”

“I know it’s not too much for you.”

“Good thing I’m not nearly as big as you are.”

Stuff like that.

Pretty soon, I was comfortably inside, slowly thrusting.

He made a thousand different sounds. Grumbles of discomfort. Sharp intakes of breath. Growls.

And then I found it. I plowed into him, hit the spot, and made him whimper. His entire body rocked.

That was the moment I got my confidence back. I thrusted harder, faster, pushing out a series of rapid-fire whimpers and snorts. His face was buried in the pillow, so everything came out muffled, but they were good sounds. Pleasure sounds.

And I felt incredible. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this. I got lost in the rhythm, bucking harder, with my hands gripping the edges of his solid cheeks.

Except… they didn’t feel solid. Soft fat bulged between my fingers. And was his ass wider?

No. It couldn’t be.

I pushed past the pleasure and forced myself to be aware of the heavy body under me, and I started to see changes.

Yes, his ass was bigger and softer. With each thrust, it seemed to expand. The smooth curve of each cheek curdled with cellulite. I could see him changing in front of me, and I could feel it. Eventually, I could hear it, too.

His flabbier thighs slapped together. His body sloshed. The noises coming out of his mouth went from gruff to… piggish. Growls became snorts. Whimpers became squeals.

This sex was changing him. I needed to stop.

But I couldn’t. Not when I was so close.

I was leaking. My balls were filled. As he softened under me, the pleasure intensified. I had to… I just…

I exploded inside him, the thickest jet of my life. Scored to the symphony of his high-pitched whimpers, I filled him with jet after spurting jet.

His ass jiggled uncontrollably and his ring clenched and unclenched around me as if his body was desperate to suck down every drop of my seed.

“God!” I screamed.

Hank went limp. I didn’t need to pull out because he collapsed under me. My cock flopped out.

I took a moment to catch my breath and let the room refocus.

Underneath me, there was Hank. New Hank. Curvy Hank.

All his muscles were gone, hard edges replaced by pure softness. His ass was enormous, with shadows marking deep grooves of cellulite.

He twisted his head to the side (still pressed against his pillow). “I love you,” he muttered in a voice that was twice as high as it should’ve been.

“Love you, too,” I said on reflex.

I pinched him ass and climbed off the bed.

That’s when he rolled onto his back and smiled up at me. His cock, now half-buried in a fat pad, was slick and stumpy. He came, too, apparently.

But that’s not what I was focusing on. I was too distracted by his wide-nippled moobs and pudgy stomach. His stomach flared in on the sides before expanding dramatically into obese hips. He wasn’t just softer. (Much softer.) He was pear-shaped. Feminine. A big-chested, big assed chub with a body built for fucking.

Exhausted and sore, he rolled out of bed and kissed my cheek. “Incredible as always,” he said.

“Th-thank you.” Did he realize how much he’d changed?

“Let me get your dinner ready, okay, big guy?”

“B-but, I was going to do that.”

He laughed hard enough for his hanging belly rolls to wobble. “Yeah, right. Like you do any of the cooking around here.”

I was speechless as he walked out of the room. His thick ass swayed behind him.

The End

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