“Have you heard that Michael is moving back to town?” asked Rick casually as he sipped his beer.
Levi’s eyes widened, his pulse quickening.“Really?” he asked back in astonishment. He hadn’t seen Michael in years. The guy had disappeared off to college seven years ago and simply never returned. “Who told you that?”
“His dad,” Rick nodded. “Apparently, he’s been trying to get Michael to join the family business for years and he’s finally agreed. I was asking about him. He said Michael has not long split up with his girlfriend, so the timing was right. We’ll have to all meet up for a drink.”
Levi nodded, trying to hide his eagerness. None of his friends had ever known about how he and Michael had fooled around together at the end of high school, nor how Michael’s abrupt exit from all their lives had cut Levi like a knife. He’d messaged him, back in those early college days, then waited three weeks for a reply until, eventually, he’d given up trying to stay in contact at all. “Sure!” Levi smiled, feigning delight. However, the thought of it plagued him for the next month, with memories of their time together washing over him like waves on a forgotten beach.
Michael had been the first in their group to lose his virginity. Tall, good looking and naturally athletic, the girls had flocked around him more than any of the rest of the otherwise nerdy bunch of guys the pair of them were friends with. To say that Michael was a randy teenager was a massive understatement. As an eighteen year old, Michael would delight in making them all jealous with tales of his kinky exploits, never holding back on the details for the ever-single boys. Then, when he and Levi had been walking home one Friday night, fueled by stolen beer from his dad’s refrigerator, Levi had somehow ended up sucking Michael off in some back alley. For Levi, who had repressed his sexuality for so long, it had been the most momentous event of his life. Finally, he had someone to talk about all these feelings which had plagued him for so long. As two horny eighteen year olds, they’d enjoyed the thrill of sneaking off together and having their own secret encounters. However, Levi was always well aware that none of it had ever actually meant anything to Michael, who was still quietly making his way through the entirety of eligible girls on the cheerleading squad. When college started up, that was it. Michael was gone and, in the great void that was left behind, only a feeling of being used and discarded remained.
With no social media, Levi realised that Michael had remained that fresh-faced eighteen year old in his head for all these years: the broad chest, slim waist and six pack; not forgetting that perfect dick of his that had imprinted itself on Levi’s mind every time he had been with anyone else. Perhaps that was why his eyes drifted over Michael without the slightest hint of recognition. The estranged man had been standing at the bar next to Rick and a couple of others of their friends. It was only as the pair of them locked eyes that Levi realised who the stranger actually was. Handsome though Michael remained, his face had swollen with puffier cheeks and a slight double chin that masked the once striking jawline. Broader and taller than he even remembered, Michael had a formidable mass to him; strong and capable, yet carrying an a surprising amount of weight around his middle, with a stout belly that pushed out further than all the other dad-bods that had begun to sprout on many of the other guys Levi recognised from high school. Yet, even now Michael seemed to command attention more than the rest of them: the perfect fit of his t-shirt around his big arms, his confident stance and deep masculine voice. His hair was long and thick, down to his shoulders and a perfect, trimmed beard had turned him into the type of hairy bear Levi had lusted after for many years on those infuriating dating apps. His cologne smelt sexy and his wide, fun-loving smile made Levi remember all over again just why he’d found Michael so irresistible.
It was only as they all sat down that the subject of Michael’s weight came up. With a sizable ball gut pressing into his lap, the sight of it captured all their attention, until Rick was brave enough to observe: “So, you’ve been eating well since high school, huh?”
Michael laughed heartily and rubbed the shelf of his protruding stomach like it was an old friend. “Dude, you have no idea!” he smiled proudly.
“You were the only one of us who had a six pack!” smiled Jake, who had always carried an extra thirty unwanted pounds on his body.
“Yeah, that didn’t last long in college,” Michael shot back, as if the loss had meant nothing at all to him. “Take-out and beer soon sorted that out!” he chuckled, patting his hefty middle that was inadequately concealed behind an unflatteringly fitted t-shirt. Then I met Anabelle…” he grinned, using the same boyish tone he had always deployed when talking about the girls he had been with.
“Oh, you mean the infamous ex?” Rick asked, fully encouraging Michael to continue.
Michael nodded. “The sexiest woman you will ever meet!” he boasted. “You guys will love this…” he grinned, pulling out his cell phone to show them a picture of her, making all the guys swoon at the image, just like he had always done, teasing them with those unobtainable girls back in high school.
“Fuck, dude!” Rick exclaimed jealously, as if he had been transported back to his teenage years. “And she finished with you because you got too big?”
“No, buddy,” Michael chuckled. “The complete opposite. I actually used to be seventy pounds heavier than this when we were together,” he explained, holding out his hands as if to simulate a much larger gut that had once been on him. “Let’s just say, she was the type of girl who liked to keep her man well fed!”
The guys all laughed. “What? Like some sort of feeder?” Rick asked, bemused by the idea.
“And then some!” Michael nodded emphatically back. “She was crazy horny about it all. I used to get the best fucking blow jobs if I just sat back, ate a couple of pizzas and bloated up on beers each evening! A nice little lap dance for taking down a tub of ice cream. Tits in my face any time I was munching on some snacks!”
“That's so weird!” laughed one of the others.
“It was fucking awesome!” Michael laughed. “The best time of my life without a doubt. Who needs a six pack when you have a girl like that bouncing up and down on your dick all night?” he smirked proudly. “She ended up finishing with me for some huge, five hundred pound guy who moved into our building,” he added with his usual, casual attitude.
Naturally, the guys were all incredibly curious, asking several questions.
“It sounds like you had a lucky escape!” Jake finally stated, patting his buddy on the back.
Michael nodded, but didn’t seem quite so convinced.
In time, each of them began to explain exactly what it was they had been up to during the intervening years since high school.
“What about you, Levi?” asked Michael. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
Levi shook his head. “I was seeing a guy from work for a couple of years, but that didn’t really go anywhere,” he answered.
“Oh, good,” Michael nodded. “So you came out at last then?”
The other guys looked curiously from Michael to Levi. “Wait. Did you know he was gay back in high school?” Jake asked, as they had all previously agreed that none of them had had the slightest inclination that Levi had been secretly into guys back then.
“Of course!” Michael nodded. “Who do you think gave him his first blow job?”
Jaws dropped to the floor.
“You never told any of them about us?” Michael asked Levi directly as the silence filled the space. “After all these years?”
“I never told anyone,” Levi mumbled back, knowing that he was going to have to spend the rest of the evening explaining the secret fling that had ended up stinging him so deeply as an eighteen year old.
“I’m sorry,” Michael whispered, sneaking up to the bar with Levi later that evening. “I had no idea that it was all still a secret. I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Levi replied graciously, despite the way he was still gritting his teeth. Not only had he had to confront the guy who had broken his teenage heart, back in the day, but now he’d had to answer questions about it for the last half an hour.
“I was worried you were pissed off at me,” Michael prodded further, perhaps still sensing Levi’s annoyance.
“Why would you be worried?” Levi shrugged back. “It’s not like you’ve given any of us a second thought in the last few years.”
Michael rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, knowing he had thoroughly deserved the cutting remark. “Well, maybe it feels that way, but it’s not as if I stopped thinking about any of you, and remembering the fun we had.” He glanced quickly over his shoulder to check that none of the guys were looking, then whispered playfully back: “Especially that night I fucked you on that mini golf course…” he teased.
Levi couldn’t help but laugh. That story, at least, had remained hidden from the group: the first time Levi had really enjoyed taking a pounding and been so vocal about it, moaning loudly. They had been less than half a second away from getting caught by a very angry looking security guy. “That was a pretty good night,” he nodded back.
“Well then…” Michael teased flirtatiously, looking back for one final check before playfully cupping Levi’s butt with his giant hand. “If you ever want to recreate those glory days… I’m always willing…”
Levi grinned back. So, Michael was just as horny as ever? It had been years since he’d been touched by him, yet the electricity sizzled through his entire body. He’d known for a long time that no one could ever get him aroused quite like Michael could.
“Oh, fuck!” Michael exclaimed a week or so later, zipping his pants back up. “You’ve certainly upped your game since last time.”
Michael smirked. It wasn’t the first time he’d been told he gave a good blow job. He’d finished pretty quickly himself; overcome by his arousal for the large-built guy who had replaced the former Michael. Broad, bellied and bearded, this man was now the perfect bear for a guy like Levi. And his dick? Well, that was just as beautiful and large as Michael remembered.
“Blow jobs just make me crave pizza these days,” Michael laughed, pulling his tight t-shirt back on and plopping down on the couch as if he needed to catch his breath still. “I think that’s what happens after you’ve dated a feeder,” he chuckled, tapping his gut. “I’ll probably have to pick something up on the way home.”
“I thought you were trying to lose weight?” Levi asked, putting his own clothes back on.
Michael seemed to think for a moment. “Not really,” he shrugged. “I lost weight because of the stress of breaking up, leaving my job, getting ready to move back here… and my family’s judgement, of course,” he sighed, rolling his eyes impatiently at that last one. “ But I actually quite liked being bigger,” he nodded, rubbing his still protrusive gut.
“What size were you?” Levi asked curiously.
“Three hundred and sixty pounds at my biggest,” Michael replied as if he thoroughly expected the figure to impress Levi. “I was a whole lot of man!”
“I bet!” Levi smiled back, realising that the thought was not at all unattractive. “I’m sure your ex was delighted.”
Michael nodded emphatically back. “And she found plenty of ways to show how happy she was with me,” the guy winked playfully back.
“Do you still miss her?” Levi asked, wondering whether, underneath all of Michael’s bravado, there was still some sadness about losing her.
Again, Michael took a moment to think. “Sometimes,” he stated at last. “She’s moved on and is happy, which is nice to know. I do miss the sex though…” he grinned.
Levi rolled his eyes. Michael’s brain had always been second in command to his penis when it came to his decision making. “Oh, is that so?” he chuckled with amusement at the fact that Michael would never change. Older and wiser, perhaps, but nothing would ever come in the way of him getting that perfect orgasm.
“You have no idea how nice it is to be sucked off after so much food,” Michael smiled fondly. “I’ll never find anyone that will let me get away with that shit again. Just all that food, beer and kinky sex… I was absolutely in my element with it all!”
Levi playfully punched his buddy on his arm, but even as he feigned disinterest at the over-share, the cogs in his head had already started to turn.
“Were you expecting someone?” asked Michael the following week as they kissed on the couch and were interrupted by a loud knock at Levi’s door.
Levi smiled and got up, returning a minute later with a large, steaming pizza inside its cardboard box.
“You ordered us pizza?” Michael asked with bemusement.
“No…” Levi smiled back. “I got you pizza.” He observed for a second as Michael seemed to be getting the gist of what was happening. “I thought it might be a nice little accompaniment for when I go down on you in a second.”
Michael’s smile beamed. He stood up and undressed with a ferocious speed; his dick already hard before he’d even dropped his underwear. “Where do you want me?” he asked, as if thoroughly expecting to be directed by Levi throughout this experience.
Levi’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t anticipated that Michael would be quite this enthusiastic. “Just in front of the TV will be fine,” he smirked, pointing down at the armchair. Michael’s dick appeared ridiculously stiff.
The moans were loud and raucous that came from the feeding man. More than once, Levi had to stop what he was doing, laughing at how uncontrollably the big boy was enjoying getting sucked off as he ate.
“You realise I’ve got neighbors upstairs?” he asked the naked Michael, legs spread wide and slouching in the chair as he ate. “These walls are paper-thin!”
“This just feels so fucking good,” Michael replied, his eyes filled with an all-consuming lust; the type that Levi had never seen in anyone before. “Have you got anything else to eat? I’m nearly done with this pizza.”
Levi sat up more and peered into the box in shock. Only a single slice remained. “But that was an extra large!” he cried.
Michael merely grinned. “I’m a greedy boy!” he announced proudly, grabbing onto a roll of stomach fat and giving it a shake.
“I might have some cake in the…”
“YES!” Michael roared, rubbing his own dick as he waited patiently for Levi to resume his sucking. “Bring the whole thing,” he ordered, upon seeing that there was over half of Levi’s own birthday cake just sitting in the refrigerator.
Never before had Levi been instructed to slow down and focus on edging when pleasuring a guy, but that was exactly what Michael seemed to want; pulling his dick away each time he felt he was getting a little too close to the climax. It took Levi far longer than it should have to work out exactly why. As insane as it may have appeared, Michael wasn’t going to let himself finish until every last crumb of that cake had been consumed, washed down with the entire pack of beers he’d brought along with him.
When the grand finale at last came closer, Michael was rubbing the shelf of his fat tummy and burping loudly between moans. He’d reached out for one of Levi’s hands and strapped it onto his gut as if he wanted him to appreciate the extreme bloating it was now going through. Then he came, gushing into Levi’s mouth like a flood, and growling like it was the best orgasm of his life.
“So, what did you think about all that weird shit with Michael’s ex?” asked Rick the next time he met up with Levi and a couple of the others at a bar in town.
The guys all nodded in consideration of the question. “She sounds like she was into some pretty freaky stuff,” replied one. “I don’t think I could have gone along with all that just to make her happy.”
“Exactly!” Rick nodded in agreement. “What the hell possessed him to get so fat for her? He’ll never get back to his old weight now.”
“Who says he even wants to?” added Levi, feeling like he needed to contribute to the conversation, despite knowing so much more than the rest of them.
“I think that’s the problem,” Rick nodded. “It’s like he’s actually proud of it.”
All of them looked across at Michael who was away, ordering at the bar. Just as always, his t-shirt was a poor fit, stretching across his stomach in a way that only emphasised it more; tight fitting pants failing to conceal his crack.
“His dad thinks he’s seeing someone,” Rick went on. “He goes out at least a couple of nights a week and is always very cagey about where he’s been.”
Levi could feel his face flushing slightly.
“He would have said something if he was seeing someone,” dismissed one of the others. “Michael’s never been coy when it’s come to talking about his sex life, has he?”
The men all nodded in acceptance of that, still gazing across at their old friend as though he was a complete enigma to them.
Levi couldn’t deny that he found it all exciting over the coming weeks. Michael was so damn horny any time they included food into their sex life, eating had become the most utilised form of foreplay.
“I’m putting weight on again,” Michael smirked, after pulling off his shirt and sitting himself down in the familiar armchair. He cracked open his beer, putting it next to the full tray of doughnuts he had brought along with him. “I can feel it all coming back under here,” he stated, lifting his arm and bouncing the fleshy area to the side of his chest, usually concealed by his strong arms.
“It must be all the pizza!” smiled Levi back, always delighted whenever Michael headed over to see him; the visits becoming more and more frequent.
“And the ice cream… the burgers, the doughnuts, the beers…” Michael sang back proudly. “My appetite has gone through the roof lately, and I am absolutely loving it!” he exclaimed, pulling out his dick, which was indeed very hard, and giving it its first rub of the evening; all whilst inserting the first of his fresh doughnuts.
“A real little piggy!” Levi teased, having noticed that such words seemed to arouse Michael even more. Perhaps it was something his ex had done, commenting on how fat he was getting week by week.
“You’d better believe it!” Michael smiled, beckoning Levi over to sit on his knee and kiss him.
After a full minute of kissing, Michael’s hands started to undress Levi, pulling off his shirt and yanking down his pants until he could send Levi away to lubricate himself and return to sit his tight butt down on his crotch; then bounce away as Michael ate.
“Take one,” Michael ordered, nodding to the doughnuts.
“I’m not keen on doughnuts,” Levi replied, finally getting into a nice, slow, stimulating rhythm.
“Not for you!” Michael shot back. “For me!” he cried. “I want you to feed it to me.”
Levi smirked. That sounded like fun. He picked one up with his hand and teased Michael by nudging it closer to his mouth, holding it under his nose without letting him take any. Then, at last, Michael took a large, deep bite that filled his entire mouth. It wasn’t easy to coordinate whilst sliding up and down Michael’s hardness, and so, by the next bite, Levi ended up simply pressing all that he could into the man’s greedy open mouth. In response, he could feel his lover’s hardness throbbing even harder inside him, making it immediately obvious that this was something his ex had once done. This glutton was clearly used to being hand fed.
It was so rewarding to see Michael’s arousal. For the first time, there was that kinky little submissive streak showing itself. Levi pressed another doughnut into the guy’s face. Icing smeared across Michael’s nose as it was impossible to keep it steady. “Come on, Piggy. Eat it all up for me! It’s time to grow!”
Michael’s eyes immediately bulged. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that comment and, despite trying to lift Levi’s slim butt off him, he couldn’t manage to stop himself ejaculating all up Levi’s back. “Fuck!” he panted, frustrated that he had climaxed earlier than planned. “You’ve got to warn me before you say kinky shit like that!” he chuckled.
Levi smiled brightly, enjoying the power of making Michael lose control. This kink of his was genuinely so exciting when it felt like he could have the handsome guy wrapped around his little finger. The horny thing that he was, Michael would be ready to go and in another five minutes or so. And, when he was, Levi was going to make sure that those last remaining six doughnuts would all be gobbled up…
Working from home had its perks over the coming weeks. Michael had started to video call him on the phone during their lunchbreaks. Given that he was constantly driving around in his job, Michael was usually sitting in his car in some fast food place parking lot. Naturally, he’d order far too much, enjoying the reactions of those who served him. Then he’d call Levi up after he was a couple of burgers down, aroused and wanting encouragement to continue gorging. It was easy and arousing work, as well as being surprisingly effective for getting Michael enthused to come and see him each evening.
“Finish those hamburgers and I’ll suck you off like a pro this evening,” Levi teased. “Come on… nice big bites now, Fat Boy! That’s it!”
Oh, how Michael moaned with delight! It was their own secret love language. Michael had stopped looking for other people to pleasure him because no one quite knew how to get his dick as hard as Levi did. No one else would have the skills to edge Michael the way he liked, how much a jiggle of his fat could get him going, or whispering cheeky encouragement into his ear could build into such an explosive finale.
Perhaps it was because it was a regain, Michael grew with exceptional speed. Blubber spread throughout his torso, puffing up the cheeks of his face and widening his appearance from behind. His stomach had a long arch to it under Michel’s large chest, becoming tank-like and magnificent.
“It feels so much different to the last time I was three-sixty,” Michael declared, gazing at his naked reflection in the mirror after building up quite a sweat pounding Levi on the bed. “My belly doesn’t feel as big, but my butt is so much softer this time!” he laughed, reaching around for one of the oversized glutes and jiggling it as he chuckled at the sight of its movement.
“That’s probably because all you do is sit on your fat ass all day with this new job,” Levi replied, sitting up in bed and rubbing his dick, still waiting for his turn to be satisfied. It was curious that Michael’s gut had still been larger than this. It was so round and protrusive, with chubby pecs that had thoroughly drooped down onto the extensive shelf that had formed.
Michael grinned, still amused and delighted by the way his butt was looking. “I love it!” he declared, as his immortal hardness began to rise up once more. “It feels so different to what I’m used to. It makes me feel so…” he mused, a little unsure how to phrase what he wanted to say next. “Have you ever tried being a top?”
Levi sat up. “A couple of times,” he answered, surprised that Michael was suggesting such a thing for them. With his building lard, Michael had seemed to become more and more submissive to it each week; hanging on Levi’s every word as he tried to come up with more and more arousing ways to keep the big man eating. “Why? What are you suggesting?” he asked, unable to hide his interest.
Michael looked at him seriously. “I just think it’s a good next stage for me. My ass is properly soft now…” he smiled, giving it yet another jiggle. “Someone should be fucking it, don’t you think?”
Smiling wickedly, Levi nodded in agreement. “Sure. I can do that one day,” he grinned, needing Michael’s mouth on his dick as soon as possible. “Once it’s a little softer, I’ll give it a nice, big pounding…”
“You still want me fatter?” Michael asked keenly. It was a question he threw at Levi frequently, practically oinking with delight each time Levi agreed.
“Oh, I want you fatter alright!” Levi teased, beckoning the fat man back to the bed as he spread his legs wide and held up his hardness, ready to insert into the greedy mouth. “Just keep eating, Piggy, and you’ll soon be soft enough to experience what a proper fucking feels like…”
Certain things really worked with Michael. Levi hadn’t realised then how much he had stumbled upon something that struck such a chord with the guy’s ever evolving kinks. He’d become like a man possessed, sending Levi pictures of almost everything he was eating at each meal. Something had shifted in him. He was going for it with full force: rapid, blubbery expansion, citing Levi’s words as his inspiration.
“I bought some super-sized underwear for me to grow into for you…” Michael declared between kisses on the couch one evening after work. The man had been eating almost all day, keeping a record of his calories on his cell phone and aiming for ever more extremes of gluttony. Fat was spreading on top of already well established fat, softening Michael up in almost every direction. He wanted to be inspected, meaured and weighed in for progress. “Is my ass fat enough yet?” he asked.
As much as Levi wanted to unleash himself upon it, the anticipation of making him wait was far too alluring. “Almost…” he grinned every time, bouncing the unrecognisably lardy glutes. “But I stil need it fatter…”
Michael sighed in both delight and frustration, promising as he came each night that he would continue to transform himself into the fattest man that he could be. Levi wondered how far he was going to let Michael take things before he surrendered and gave him what he wanted so desperately. He was enjoying having Michael fixated of the idea of being fucked by him; the long, drawn-out process of longing for it. Michael had always been kinky, but he’d never had to wait for something like this before. His sexual frustration was evident as he sent Levi videos of his raging erections, even as he ate his lunch at work.
“This is for you…” Michael would wink in a 50-second video, raising a tub of whipping cream and then hastily downing it all in one go, looking around him in the parking lot to ensure that no one was around as he gave his pulsing dick a few strokes up and down, and burping like an old drain.
It was Michael’s birthday that September; the first one of their group to turn twenty-eight. Jake and Rick had suggested heading out to the city to visit some clubs, but all Michael had requested was an evening in their usual bar.
“Do you think he’s dating another freak?” asked Rick, as the rest of them couldn't help watching Michael as he stepped away to order himself a drink. The man’s whole shape was altering as blubber engulfed his previously solid frame; large, puffy arms and pillowy fat broadening his back at his shoulder blades. His clothes were a snug fit, just as they always were, leaving nothing to the imagination about how extreme the man’s love handles had become as his monstrous gut launched outwards. The sturdy strength of his athletic butt had been completely diminished as a pair of wide, underexercised and expansive glutes pressed unflatteringly up against large jeans that sat far too low to completely conceal his crack. “I’ve never seen anyone put on weight this quickly before.”
Levi tried to conceal a smirk.
“Well, he says not. But there’s gotta be some girl behind this somewhere,” Jake nodded in agreement. “He must be well over 400lbs now,” he noted, seeming to be sizing their tall friend up in his head.
“Oh, at least,” Levi nodded in agreement, knowing that Michael was actually closer to 430lbs.
“Shit!” laughed Rick, turning back to the group of friends with a giant smirk across his face. “It looks like we were exactly right!”
Levi chuckled, looking around in amusement. What had Rick seen that suddenly made him so sure that Michael was seeing someone?
One by one, the other guys laughed and nodded, seeming to understand. “Haven’t you spotted her?” Rick asked, as Levi seemed to be the only one who hadn’t caught on. “Look who just walked in. It’s his ex, Annabelle!”
Levi’s head swung to the entrance space. He hadn’t paid so much attention to the picture Michael had shown them all of his ex, yet the other guys seemed to recognise her right away. She was indeed, completely stunning, garnering stares from every single man in the room. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion as Levi watched her walk up to Michael and place a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention. She was here for his birthday, holding a present in her hand and passing it over to him.
Had Michael invited her? Surely not! He hadn’t talked about her in months! Levi studied his face carefully before deciding that he definitely hadn’t been expecting her. His fat face was one of complete shock, even as he was pulled into a gentle embrace by the petite girl almost a quarter of his size.
“What a liar!” Jake laughed, watching his lucky friend receiving attention from the outrageously sexy girl. “I guess he just couldn’t resist going back for seconds!”
Levi’s jaw clenched. He could tell from the way Annabelle was fussing around him that she was flirting. So, she’d heard how well Michael had continued to grow and decided to get him back? An angry, jealous goblin seemed to rise up out of him, suddenly finding himself marching across the room towards the former lovers.
“And when I called by your parents’ place, they told me you would be down here,” Annabelle was smiling, before stopping as she saw Levi approach.
“It’s amazing to see you,” Michael smiled back at her, before also noticing they were no longer alone. “Levi, this is my ex, Annabelle,” he delighted in saying.
Levi’s cheeks clenched in a forced grimace. He had no intention of making polite introductions. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked, pretending to see if anyone had followed her in. “Are you here on your own?”
Annabelle sighed and pouted sadly, in a way that many infatuated men probably found adorable. “Unfortunately, we broke up,” she replied, looking keenly to see Michael’s reaction to the news. “I made a big mistake choosing him. Things just didn’t work out.”
“I’m so sorry!” Michael offered, putting a consoling hand on the pretty girl’s shoulder. “That sucks!”
Levi rolled his eyes. If she wanted a fight, he’d give her a fight. “So, what was the plan then? You finish with one guy, then race down here to try and get your ex back?”
Annabelle was good. She looked across at Michael with big, innocent eyes, her mouth aghast with horror at the impolite way she had been addressed. “No! Not at all. I just needed to see my old friend!” she replied, clearly lying through her teeth.
“What’s got into you?” Michael asked Levi in surprise; more amused than annoyed.
“Michael and I have known each other since our first year in college,” the girl continued feigning her innocence. “I just needed to see a familiar face… That’s all.”
“Whatever!” Levi scoffed. “You’re here because you heard Michael’s packed on so much more weight these last few months and you realised he had more potential than you first thought.”
Annabelle looked back at Michael, and then down to his large, round stomach. “Well, I’m not going to lie. You do look pretty good,” she smiled. “You’ve come a long way since I first met you…” she teased, trying to share an intimate moment with him.
Michael suddenly seemed to catch on. He sighed heavily and then placed his great arm over Levi’s shoulder. “Annabelle, perhaps I should explain that Levi is my feeder these days.”
“This guy?” Annabelle asked, utterly speechless and unimpressed. She’d dropped the innocent approach now, looking just as hard back at Levi as he was looking at her. “I bet he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. Don’t you remember the things I used to do to get you to eat for me…” she asked Michael, seeming to throw out her chest more.
“It’s the reason I got kicked off the college football team,” Michael nodded with a smirk.
“Your coach was so pissed!” Annabelle continued, trying to lure Michael back down memory lane with her. “I already had a reputation back then. All the guys had warned you not to date me. You skipped so many practices getting fed and sucked off. Do you remember how sexy those first few pounds felt?”
“That’s true!” Michael nodded. “You never forget your first feeder.”
Annabelle’s smile was wide.
“But you never could have gotten me as big as Levi has already. His methods are just a little more… advanced,” Michael finally stated, just as Levi placed a possessive hand on his broad butt, not caring that all their friends were watching them from only twenty five feet away.
“The fat pig eats for me now!” Levi spat victoriously.
Michael looked to the side to grin happily at his lover. Had Levi really just said that in public? Already Levi could feel the man getting aroused by him once more.
“Michael… Come on!” Annabelle cried, as if trying to make her ex see reason. “Remember how much fun we used to have?”
But Michael wasn’t listening. With his oversized butt being caressed by Levi, he’d slipped into a fog of lust. “Everyone can see what you’re doing you know?” he whispered, thrilled by how openly Levi was admiring his size.
“I don’t care…” Levi smiled back, happy to block out Annabelle entirely as he kissed the big man passionately.
“I’m sorry, Annabelle,” Michael smiled at last, handing her back the present she had brought along that evening. “Like my feeder said, I’m Levi’s fat pig these days…”
Levi kept his eyes open as he kissed Michael next, eying Annabelle as her face curdled like sour milk. She turned around and marched out, probably having spent hours travelling here, all for nothing.
Coming out as a feeder hadn’t been as challenging as Levi had expected. Of course, their friends had questions, but Michael’s shameless enthusiasm had been more than a little contagious.
“So, how fat are you planning on making him?” asked a bewildered Jake.
“As fat as I want…” Levi grinned up at his lover, poking him in his ever softening tummy.
He knew he’d crossed a line and could never go back after today. But, as he dropped Michael’s underwear that night, bent him forwards over the bed and gently pressed himself inside, between those doughy, fleshy cheeks, he knew this was exactly where he wanted to be. He’d come so far with Michael, but still had much further to go. More fattening treats to be consumed, more lard to be developed if he was to train him up like he needed. He hadn’t become a feeder overnight and, likewise, Michael wasn’t about to surrender to his true submissive self just yet. But, pound by pound and fucking by fucking, Levi knew that he would one day come to be the the complete lardy chub that he was after. Despite all the women Michael had had in his time, he’d finally been captured, like a little piggy in its pen.
Liam was lifting weights when I got home. His muscular body was coated in sweat and his face was scrunched up in determination and pain. He knew I was home but didn’t acknowledge me until he finished his set.
I was fine with that. Not every guy gets to come home to an absolute adonis pumping iron in his living room.
He dropped the weights and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Hey, honey. You’re early.”
“The cake orders for tomorrow got cancelled, so I didn’t need to be there. I let Manny finish up.”
“Hopefully he won’t eat all of your inventory.”
“Don’t say that.”
Liam was such a nice guy, but he always made snide little remarks about my employees. I owned a bakery, so of course my workers gained a bit of weight over the years. Manny had been with me from the beginning, so Liam had seen him grow from a svelte 22-year-old kid into a 350-pound 28-year-old man. He was a good worker because he believed in the product, but he never, ever ate anything that wasn’t going to be thrown away.
Plus, the customers loved him. I always sold more stuff when he was behind the counter because he constantly gave suggestions and raved about pretty much everything I made.
“Sorry,” Liam said. “So what did you bring for me?”
I’d forgotten that I had a box in my hands. I opened the lid, revealing a brand-new éclair that I was planning to introduce.
He took a big bite and whimpered. “Babe, this is incredible.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Liam had dubbed himself my official taste-tester. Every time I tried something new, I always gave him the first bite.
He wasn’t a particularly good taste-tester, though. Despite being ridiculously fit, he had the biggest sweet tooth of anyone I knew. Every dessert tasted “incredible” to him. One time, for a little experiment, I gave him a donut that I’d purposely made with way too much sugar. It was inedible. But he still ate the whole thing and gave me a big thumbs up.
“You just brought one?” he asked, licking his fingers.
“I always just bring one.”
“Yeah. ’Cause Manny eats the rest of ’em, huh?”
“Stop saying things like that!” I shouted.
Liam flinched. I never raised my voice, especially at him.
“Sorry. I’m a little upset. Manny put in his two weeks’ notice today. His bitchy wife got a job in Phoenix.” It really hurt to lose my oldest and most loyal employee. I knew this day would come. He’d been talking about moving for months now, but the news still stung.
“Well, shit,” Liam said, wrapping me in a sweaty hug. “That sucks.”
“It’ll be fine,” I said, both to him and to myself. “I’m sure I’ll find someone, though I doubt I’ll find anyone as enthusiastic.”
He pulled away. “I’ll do it!”
I let the words sink in, but I didn’t respond.
“Seriously! Think about it! No one appreciates your baking as much as I do! Plus, I’m superhot. Your stuff will be flying off the shelves like hotcakes!”
“I don’t make hotcakes,” I joked, mostly to avoid responding.
Liam was amazing. And I’m pretty sure he was a good worker. The only reason he was currently unemployed was because his previous employer had gone bankrupt. But…
“I don’t know if that would be healthy for us,” I said. “Mixing business with pleasure. You know.”
“Yeah. I get it.” He collapsed onto the sofa dramatically. For such a big, masculine guy, there were times when he reminded me of a six-year-old.
I hated to disappoint him like this. And if I took our marriage out of the equation, he would be an ideal candidate.
“Okay. How about this? I’ll hire you for a month, and we’ll see if it works without, you know, affecting our marriage.”
He jumped up. “Really?”
“But be aware. I’m a tough boss. I try to run a tight ship, so I’ll be treating you like an employee, not a husband.”
“Understood.” He kissed me.
“And you won’t freak out if you start gaining weight like all my other employees?”
He scoffed. “Look at me! I’m married to the city’s best baker and I still have a six pack. I think I’ll be fine.”
What he didn’t realize was that I chose to limit the amount of sweets I brought home. For Liam, they were an occasional treat, not a daily temptation. At work, I used the leftover baked goods as a reward to my employees. An incentive.
But he’d find out soon enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started gaining right away. Like Manny had. Knowing how vain Liam was, he’d gain ten pounds, get horrified, and quit. You mark my words.
***
Two years later.
When I got home, Liam was sitting on our new, reinforced sofa, eating red velvet cake by the handful. His flabby body spread out in all directions, his pale side rolls hanging over the edge of the red sofa like the thick icing on his rapidly-disappearing cake. He knew I was home, but he didn’t acknowledge me until he had finished binging.
I was fine with that. Not every guy gets to come home to a such a luscious example of soft, jiggling hedonism.
“Hey, honey. You’re home early.”
“Yeah. Manny’s handling tomorrow’s orders again. Since he came back, he’s been absolutely killing it. I’ve been giving him more of my responsibilities, and he hasn’t disappointed me yet. Sales are finally up again.”
A look of embarrassment passed over Liam's icing-stained faced. “Well, you made the right choice, babe.” He tried to pull his shirt down to cover more of his bulging stomach, but the fabric immediately rolled back up. Plus, he spilled a bunch of crumbs onto the couch.
“We all have our talents,” I told him reassuringly as I grabbed the dustbuster from the table. I switched it on and cleaned up the sofa cushions. Then I got to work sucking up all the crumbs that were still on his stomach. The handheld vacuum pulled at his soft flesh, sending ripples through him in the most adorably hypnotic way. I loved cleaning my husband, and I think he loved it, too.
He just leaned back, moaning softly, enjoying the rhythmic wobble.
“And what’s my talent?” he asked me.
I picked up a hunk of cake that he’d left on the table and pushed it against his lips. He gobbled it up as fast as the dustbuster. “What do you think, Liam?”
His talent was eating. Obviously. A beautiful talent. An incredibly erotic talent.
And a talent that had almost put me out of business.
When Liam first started working for me, he was the ideal employee. He followed directions and used his muscle-god body to entice the customers into ordering more food. He had this line that he’d always use whenever a customer was second-guessing an order: “Treat yourself. An extra donut won’t hurt you. I eat ’em all the time, and look at me.”
That line became less and less effective as the weeks wore on. I thought Manny had gained weight fast, but nothing compared to Liam. It took him three weeks (I’m not kidding) to develop a droop over his belt. A month for his pecs to turn into moobs. Two months for an extremely noticeable double chin. Three months in, his stomach had morphed from abs into a full-on gut.
His whole “treat yourself” mantra had turned into a major turn-off to our customers. When they looked at Liam behind the counter, they saw proof of how dangerously fattening my treats were.
Back when Manny had been behind the counter, the customers took his large body as an endorsement of the products. With Liam, who was so red-faced and winded at the same size, they took it as a warning sign: "Don't eat here or you'll end up like him."
I lost customers. I lost money on all his new uniforms. And worst of all, I lost my inventory.
It took me a couple months to discover exactly why Liam was gaining so fast: He was stealing our food. It started out with a couple missing donuts or cake slices each day, but the longer he worked, the more he took. Once I caught him red-handed (well, chocolate-handed), I completely flipped out. He was putting my business in jeopardy. None of my other employees had ever done that.
He started crying and swore to me up and down that he’d stop.
For a while, he did. He started buying cheap (and terrible) baked goods from the supermarket just so he could have something to eat while he worked. Business was still down, but at least I wasn’t running out of food.
After a year and a half, Liam had ballooned to over 350 pounds. Manny had been that size (after six years), but he always had a ton of energy and enthusiasm. I think because Liam’s gains had happened so fast, and his muscles had so quickly atrophied under his extra layers, he’d become a much more sluggish, much less healthy-looking fat person. It took him way too long to do the simplest tasks, and he was really scaring off customers.
The ironic part is that, despite how bad he was for business, I found him hotter by the day. I loved him as a muscle stud, but I loved him so much more as the soft, weak blob that he’d become. I wanted to take care of him, to grow him, to serve his unending hunger.
When I caught him in the back of the bakery squeezing my expensive buttercream icing into his mouth, I was both furious and aroused. I fired him then and there, explaining that I loved what he’d done to himself but I couldn’t keep putting my business in jeopardy.
He understood.
Thankfully, that was around the time that Manny had moved back from Phoenix. (His marriage didn’t work out.) I hired him to be my co-manager, giving him free rein to try different strategies to turn the business back around.
And he did. Six months later and we were back on track. The business was in the black and Liam, free to eat all day at home, gained an additional 70 pounds. (I think. Our scale broke.)
I crawled onto the sofa next to my big, beautiful husband. He radiated warmth. One hand around his sloping shoulders and another rubbing his belly, I felt so deeply happy. We weren’t meant to work together, but in the short time that we had, our relationship (and his body) grew in ways that neither of us imagined.
He leaned closer, his belly shifting and sloshing, and whispered into my ear. I thought he was going to say something romantic. Instead, he whispered, “I’m thirsty.”
“I’ll get you something sweet.”
The End.
Thanks for reading! You can find all my stories here.
Peter stopped and stared at the poster. It was for a new film from Surplus Entertainment Inc. He scratched at the underside of his stomach and took in the image of the fat Asian guy who was striking a kung fu pose. The guy had typical flat black Asian hair and was holding his palms up above his burgeoning belly surrounded by a swirl of burgers, noodles, chopsticks, and fries. It kind of looked like the guy was trying to fight his way through a vortex of food, but the guy didn’t look frightened or threatening in any way. His face was round and soft, as were his eyes. Peter burped. Interesting, he thought.
A kid walked past him, munching on a pizza slice. “Hey, what do you make of this?” Peter asked him, poking a fat finger at the poster. “Sposed to be good,” the kid mumbled through his mouthful of pizza. “Not the film, the guy. What do you make of this guy?” The kid swallowed his mouthful and stepped closer to the poster. He squinted his eyes and pressed his piggy little nose up against the guy’s belly. “Dunno,” he said, “Sposed to be good.”
Peter wondered why he’d bothered asking the advice of a twelve year old. “Not the film,” he repeated, “the guy! Do you think he’s Chinese or Korean?” The kid looked up at Peter and furrowed his brow. “How should I know?” “I don’t like Korean food,” Peter told him, “too many vegetables.”
The kid twisted his lip and took a candy bar from his pocket. He twisted and pulled at the wrapper while he thought. “No one likes vegetables,” he said. Peter looked at him in a way that suggested that he had said something profound. They shared a moment and then stood in silence staring at the Asian guy, of unknown descent, in his vortex of pan-Ameriasian cuisine, while the kid took a bite of his candy bar.
The kid broke the silence; “Gotta go, gonna be late for dinner.” Peter turned his neck to look at him and said goodbye to the back of his head as he plodded off down the street. He then returned to looking at the poster. The Chinese-Korean guy had one eye closed. He appeared to be winking at him. Had it always been like that? Peter looked at the time on his phone. It was closing in on five o’clock. He was too old to have a Mom that forced him home on time for dinner. He placed his phone back in his pocket and took a few steps to the right so that he could see the list of show times. There was a showing starting in fifteen minutes.
Peter was pressing his thick thumb up against the touchscreen, in order to select the single adult button, when a pop-up appeared. It asked him if he wanted to upgrade to the ‘interactive’ version for an extra 3.99. Peter frowned. Not because of the attempt to up-sell him, but because he didn’t know what it was. He turned around and surveyed the foyer for a member of staff, but none were forthcoming. The only employee in view was a dumpy teenage boy with tits the size of watermelons, and he was serving the long queue at the concessions stand. Whatever, Peter thought, as he squished his thumb against the button.
He took his ticket and checked the time on his phone again. He still had five minutes, plus the twenty minutes of commercials that would inevitably run before the feature, so he joined the queue at the concession stand.
His belly began to rumble as he watched each guy in line in front of him order their snacks and walk away with an armful of popcorn and candy. He thought about the kid, who might be home already, filling his face with piles of creamy home made mash and pork chops. He missed having someone to cook for him. His memories increased his hunger. When he reached the counter, he took a second to read the badge pinned to the candy clerks bulging breasts; “Hi, My name is Roger.” The guy had black hair, not too dissimilar to the star of the films, and a beach ball belly to match his bosoms. “How can I help you?” Roger asked him. Peter ordered a super mega popcorn combo, three hot dogs, and an extreme cola. Roger handed him his order with an honest smile. Peter piled his items on top of one another and held them in a cupped arm up against his rumbling belly. He then plodded off to find screen two.
A boy called Thomas, with brown fuzzy hair, a belly the size of a planet, and a short goatee, asked him for his ticket. Peter handed it to him. Thomas tore it and handed him back his stub. “First on the left,” he said. Peter took one step in preparation for moving off when Thomas spoke again. “Oh wait, you have an interactive ticket! I have to give you this.” Thomas reached into a bag and pulled out two small nodes. They looked like the kind of little round alkaline batteries that you get in watches or other electronic devices. “What am I supposed to do with these?” Peter asked him. “One on the temple and one on the gut,” Thomas told him while pointing to the right places. Peter shrugged, almost causing the extreme cola, perched on top of his super mega popcorn combo, to topple. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and made his way into the theater.
He was one of only a handful of people there so was able to select a central seat about half way up, and still had no one sitting close to him. He loaded his snacks into the chair next to him and made himself comfortable. The commercials had already started. He munched on his first hot dog whilst a bunch of fat kids sang the Oscar Mayer wiener jingle at him from the screen. “I’m glad I’m not an Oscar Mayer wiener, cos then there’d soon be nothing left of me.” There was something familiar about the main boy who was leading the chorus. Peter swallowed his hot dog and burped. I thought you were at home having your dinner, he said to himself.
The commercials continued while he ate his other two hot dogs. One was for Nathan’s and the other for Dog Haus. He washed them down with a slug of cola and began to much on the super mega popcorn combo as the film began.
The opening scene was nothing special. The fat Asian guy of unknown nationality was sitting at a desk littered with receipts. He was doing his taxes or some other boring shit and munching on popcorn. He looked nothing like the kung fu fighter in the poster. Peter was disappointed. He had expected more action, and his popcorn tasted like nothing, it wasn’t even salted. This went on for a few minutes, before some other guy came in and they started arguing. Peter sighed. He wasn’t at all impressed by any of this. He wondered why he hadn’t just gone to Dog Haus for dinner instead. But then, he felt a slight buzzing in his pocket. He shifted his belly, and leaned to the left, in order to reach into his right pocket. It was the nodes. He had forgotten about them. They must have been set to vibrate as a reminder to customers like him who forgot to put them on. With no real expectations for anything he placed one against his right temple and the other on the top left of his stomach, just as the usher had told him to. He then reached down into his super mega popcorn combo and took a handful. Butterscotch.
Peter couldn’t believe it. Only a few moments earlier it had tasted like cardboard. Now, all of a sudden, it was the softest, nuttiest, and sweetest popcorn he had ever tasted. He foisted his hand back in and grabbed an even bigger handful and shoveled it into his mouth. He was so distracted by the delicious taste and delightful surprise that he didn’t notice that the guy on the screen was doing the same. He tipped the box up to his mouth and poured the entire contents into his gaping mouth. His belly roared in appreciation as the rich and buttery corn tumbled down his esophagus. He stared into the empty box, just as the film flipped to the next scene.
The guy was now in a launderette talking to a more than bulky cowboy. The cowboy offered him a chocolate bar. The chocolate bar was also nutty. The nuts were wrapped in caramel and coated in rich dark chocolate. Peter drooled as the tricolor of flavors coated his tongue. It was sickly, but he couldn’t get enough of it. He reached into the box and took bar after bar, ripping the wrappers open in un-pent frustration; he couldn’t get them down him quick enough. His stomach started to fill, yet the hunger tore through him like an earthquake. He slugged on his extreme cola and burped in unison with the guy of Chinese or Korean origin. Only then did he realize what was happening. This was awesome!
The next scene was in a tax office, but Peter didn’t care about the plot. All he wanted to know was what was coming next. A lady offered the Asian guy a toffee. The toasted sugar notes and creamy butter crunched in his mouth. It was more robust and filling than the popcorn. He took another, and another, as he tongue danced around his pallet, greedily licking every speck of the delicious candy off the back of his teeth. He burped again and felt his belly swell ever so slightly.
To his amazement, at this point, this pacing of the film completely changed. The Asian guy was in a closet talking to some other fat dude who looked like the previous guy but wasn’t the previous guy. Apparently, the whole thing was about people jumping through dimensions or something. It was nothing like the boring kitchen sink drama that it had pretended to be at the beginning. The guy who wasn’t the other guy was explaining to the fat Asian that he had the ability to eat everything everywhere all at once. Peter’s eyes widened as the repercussions of this began to settle in the neurons of his brain. His head and body washed with dopamine as he was suddenly transported to Japan. His mouth filled with crunchy sushi rolls, chili beef ramen, and battered tempura. He barely had time to swallow before he was in New Mexico gorging on tamales and chile en nogada. Next it was tapas in Spain, before jambalaya in Ghana. His belly filled and started to rise while a little green light flashed on the node stuck to the side of his head. His hunger never subsided.
The pace of the movie slowed for a moment and he was able to take a deep breath and suck on his cola. He peered down at his belly which had already risen a few inches. He burped loudly as he was whisked off to Guatemala. There he had pepian de pollo and tostadas followed by rellenitos for dessert. His stomach gurgled and churned as the flavors of the world started to settle and load his intestines. He felt his whole abdomen start to expand. His belly pushed out in every direction forcing his legs further apart as it sank deeper and deeper between his thighs. The arms of his seat started to creek as his love handles filled and swelled with layers of extra fat. He felt the seat getting tighter and tighter as his mouth was awash with mulligatawny soup, and the arm rests bent further and further apart. Finally, they snapped, and his heaving flesh spread out across the seats next to him. By the time he was done with the Chicago deep pan and fries he filled three seats.
Peter had never felt such pleasure. The gastronomic levels of pressure were intense. His whole digestive system worked overtime as it loaded his body with visceral and subcutaneous fat. It coated his organs, filled the gaps between his muscles, and piled up under his skin, like a volcanic eruption of adipose tissue. He ballooned out in every direction.
The pace of the film slowed again and Peter was able to take in his new immense size. He smiled broadly and wiped the mess from his lips as he surveyed the damage. His belly was monstrous. It seemed to stretch out in front of him like the plains of Illinois. He could feel the back of the bent and broken seat in front of him digging into the underside of it. His arms, puffed up with layer upon layer of chub, stuck out of his sides at an obtuse angle; forced sideways by the expansion of his heaving chest. He could feel that his neck was thick and heavy, wrapped in a warm scarf of freshly laid fat. He tried to rotate his head but the weight of his newly chipmunked cheeks made it difficult. He burped, and burped, and burped.
His focus slowly started to return to the screen as the fullness inside of him slowly started to subside. The Asian guy was now enormous. He was once more talking to the guy that wasn’t the other guy who was explaining to him that he couldn’t just travel to other places, but that he had the ability to eat everything everywhere all at once. Peter’s stomach realized what this actually meant a few seconds before his brain did. It screamed and kicked and howled in anticipation. For a moment Peter thought that it might rip itself out of his heavily fat laden abdomen. And he was off.
He was in Montreal feasting on poutine at the same time as he was in London. He was also in the Philippines, Sofia, and on a planet called Zebabedoingagongduzis Three. There he ate an entire kujakdun, which was an animal similar to a walrus, or a spitluyk on the planet Hjugiberg. His stomach had never known anything like it. The flavors of the universe filled and appeased him. He was conscious of everything and conscious of nothing. Everything was food, everything was fat, everything was delicious, and he couldn’t get enough of it.
The seats around him started to crack and pop as they folded in on themselves under his immense weight. His belly bounded forward, down the levels, breaking through one row, no two, no three, no four. He thought that the expansion would go on forever. He thought that he would become a gaining god. But to his disappointment the credits rolled. He was in his denouement.
The feeding stopped and the little green light on the node turned to red. He pulled it off and tried to throw it on the floor in disgust, but it just landed on his belly. He couldn’t believe it. He made an elephant look small.
The house lights came on and Peter could see for real what had happened. The theater was a mess. He was as big as a house; a house made of fat. He laughed and burped and burped and laughed. Too big to get up by himself he sat there pawing at the fat that he could reach. It was so soft, so fresh, and new. He loved it. Finally, Roger entered with a dustpan and brush. “Oh, hi there,” he said. Peter looked down at him. Roger's watermelon breasts and beach ball belly now looked tiny by comparison. “Did you enjoy the movie?” Peter nodded in response. “Interactive is the best, right?” Peter nodded again. He was too exhausted and overcome with joy to speak. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here,” Roger told him.
Out on the street, Peter filled the entire sidewalk. Passers by gawked at him jealously as they checked for traffic in order to safely get by. After a few minutes a fat kid approached him and offered him an Oscar Meyer wiener. He accepted it gladly. “Was he Korean or Chinese?” the fat kid asked him. “Who cares!” Peter said. “I’ve learnt to appreciate both.” He then ate his hot dog.
“Hello, excuse me.” There was a gentle rapping at my office door that caused me to look up from my computer. “Are you Andrew Reynolds?” I looked at a young guy obviously in his early twenties. He smiled cheerily as he stood in the doorway, waiting for my response. His smile was gorgeous, his teeth immaculate.
“Yes, I’m Andrew Reynolds,” I replied. “How can I help you?” He smiled again before he continued, walking a little further into my office.
“Well, the receptionist at the desk in the waiting area said it would be okay if I came on back.” I nodded, allowing him to continue. “My name is Parker Jeong and I applied for the job as your assistant. We had the interview over the phone early last week. I was in the process of moving to the area.”
“Oh, yes, I remember.” Recent college grad. Moving from California. Could start working immediately.
“I know that you mentioned wanting to meet in person before finalizing my employment.” He smiled again, and even with the wholesome smile on his face, I could see in his eyes that he was nervous. He had beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes, and he did his best to hold my gaze. He toyed anxiously with the crisp sheet of paper in his hand, which I assumed was a hard copy of his resumé. He was probably scared I wouldn’t want to hire him after all. Imagine moving across the country for a job only to be told the position had already been filled.
“I know you just graduated a few months ago,” I verbalized. “But from what I remember you telling me during our phone conversation and what I saw on the resumé you emailed over, you’re more than qualified to work as an administrative assistant.”
“Thank you, sir. I brought a hard copy of my resumé with me,” he said.
“Let me take another look.” He walked closer to my desk and handed it to me. I looked it over, recalling most of the standout credentials. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Parker had majored in marketing with a minor in graphic design. He’d spent his final semester involved in a mentorship program for Asian-Americans interested in working in advertising. He graduated magna cum laude. Hell, he was overqualified for this position.
“You’re sure you want this job?” I asked. “You could definitely get a position as a copywriter at another agency.”
“Hathaway and Associates is the best agency in the entire Midwest. I’ve dreamed of working here since I decided I wanted to go into advertising. The commercials you all put out for Nike were astonishing.” The kid had done his research.
“What about those commercials did you like so much?”
“They had this sense of authenticity that I don’t think we see much of anymore. Those ads gave me the courage to join a gym.” I wondered what he’d think if he knew the portly executive in front of him had come up with the concept that inspired his fitness journey.
“I want more for my career, yes, but I don’t plan on shirking my responsibilities as your assistant. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of, sir.”
I was a pretty good judge of character, and I didn’t think Parker would let me down. I liked his honesty. It was refreshing. My previous assistants had never been my choice, often young adults that had some sort of connection to the other executives at the agency. “Well, I look forward to working with you.”
“I look forward to working with you too,” he replied, reaching out to shake my hand. I stood, and his eyes traveled upwards to my face. Maybe he couldn’t tell I was so tall behind my desk, but it seemed like he was surprised by my size. I tended to have this effect on people. I grabbed his hand, and we shook to seal the deal of his hiring.
“Head to human resources and get your paperwork finalized. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning. We start at nine.” He thanked me again, clutching his over-the-shoulder bag as he left my office. I bet he skipped down the hallway all the way to HR.
I knew he’d work hard. That was certain. But when it came to how sexy he was, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I assumed Parker was gay, and he was definitely a little snack I could see myself sinking my teeth into, but I had to remind myself that I was in a position of power over him. Even if I wanted to see what he was working with underneath his exquisitely tailored slacks, flirting with him was a no-go. And besides, that little gym bunny probably had no interest in a grizzly bear like me.
The next morning, I got to work a little early and Parker was sitting at his station right outside of my office. He had a dozen donuts on his desk and two coffees, one much larger than the other.
“Hello Mr. Reynolds,” he said. “Please let me know what I can do to help you this morning.” He handed me the larger coffee and a napkin before smoothly opening the box of donuts. I recognized them immediately. They were from a trendy new spot that had opened a few months ago. They specialized in unique flavors, like maple-bacon and Fruity Pebbles.
“You sure know how to make an impression.”
“I told you that I’d do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of.” I grabbed one of the donuts, knowing I’d be coming back out for another within the next fifteen minutes.
“Let me get situated and I’ll let you know what you can do for me.”
“Yes sir.”
I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me with all this “Mr. Reynolds” and “Yes sir” business. My last assistant was a statuesque redhead who never tried to go above and beyond the requirements of her position. Which was fine, I got it. She did what she was paid for. But sometimes I think she messed things up on purpose so I wouldn’t give her more work to do. I barely got a hello from her in the morning, and she left promptly at five without so much as a farewell.
I shuffled into my office, tossing my bag on one of the chairs opposite my desk. I bit into the donut, savoring its sweetness. It tasted like a Biscoff cookie, and I was almost certain the glaze was made from cookie butter. I took a slightly larger bite before shoving the rest of the pastry into my awaiting mouth. That donut never stood a chance. I already wanted another, but I needed to show some self-restraint. I couldn’t let Parker know I spent my working hours inhaling food three minutes into his first day.
About ten minutes later, Parker was knocking at my door, box of donuts in hand.
“We’re celebrating today, Mr. Reynolds,” he said, walking towards my desk. “I’ve already had two of these. I’m going to leave the box with you so you don’t have to worry about coming back for more.”
“Well, uh, you don’t want to offer them to some of the other assistants?”
“No, sir,” he said, coyly setting the box to the left of me at my L-shaped desk. “This is for me and you, sir.”
Damn did Parker know the way to a big man’s heart. Having the box within arm’s reach, I finished the rest of that dozen by noon.
The donuts were one thing, but Parker was constantly supplying me with snacks throughout the day. He’d brought me homemade blueberry muffins and brown butter chocolate chip cookies. He’d made me buttery croissants, decadent fudge brownies, and Oreo cheesecake bites. I wondered if he was making his way through a cookbook.
“It’s just a hobby,” he said offhandedly when I mentioned he didn’t have to bring me so many treats. “I guess I got carried away.”
“You just always bring so much. I hope you know I’m not expecting you to bring something every single day. I don’t want you to feel put out.”
“It’s just how I unwind,” he said. “Before I moved here, I had three roommates. Now that I live alone, I don’t have anyone else to share them with. I’m really sorry for assuming you wanted them.”
“Whoa!” I interjected. “I never said I didn’t want them.” This made him laugh. I didn’t mind the baked goods. I woke up salivating thinking about what new thing he’d have for me to munch on, but it was never just a sampling of his work. The portions were huge. When he showed up with his reusable containers, it always brought to mind something that would normally be placed in the breakroom for everyone in the office to sample—like a baker’s dozen of white chocolate raspberry mini-Bundt cakes or an entire pan of M&M Rice Krispie Treats.
The baked goods were just the cherry on top of having an excellent assistant. He was definitely the best one I’d ever had, a really fast learner for sure, but his competence as an office worker was second to his ability to cater to my often insatiable hunger. A month of Parker’s special treatment was damaging to my waistline. Being catered to by him turned me on beyond belief, and it was something new for me. In my past relationships, my love of food was never celebrated. Parker’s eyes seemed to light up when I munched on whatever he brought me. “It’s not too chocolatey?” he’d asked, pushing another confection my way. It was never too chocolatey. It was always perfect, just like him.
He greeted me with baked goods each morning and made sure to say goodbye before heading out every evening, carrying with him an empty Tupperware container or pie dish. Aside from the extra thousand-plus calories a day I was inhaling from his delicious goodies, he always made sure to have lunch delivered for me.
He talked to me more than any of my other assistants ever had. Almost like he was trying to get to know me on a more personal level. It had me looking forward to going to work, a feeling I hadn’t had in quite a while. It might have been unintentional, but Parker’s interest, even if it was just platonic, was boosting my ego. My old assistants barely ever looked in my direction, but this guy wanted to know what my favorite movies were and what I liked to do for fun. This attention from him was electrifying. My brain knew being this infatuated with him was no good, but my heart (and my stomach) didn’t care.
Even now, none of the interns or other assistants ever talked to me unless absolutely necessary. That didn’t mean I wasn’t a topic of conversation. They all definitely talked about me. I was big, yes. But I also had a resting serious face. Combined with my intimidating frame, they thought of me as some sort of beast. I once made an intern cry during a pitch meeting because I “looked like I was going to bite her head off.” I now made more of an effort to smile, even when there was no reason to. I also tried to ignore the implications of this, considering I was one of four black men on staff.
To the other execs, I was more of the office joke. I was younger than most of them by fifteen years, so they viewed me as some sort of kid brother. It was always a crack here or a joke there. When I landed the Nike account they all thought it was the funniest thing to ever happen in the history of the world.
“Andy?” one of them had guffawed, barely able to get out what he wanted to say. “When was the last time you saw the inside of a gym? And Nike went with your pitch?”
But it was something I had become accustomed to; all throughout school I was the big guy people joked about or avoided. Adults always thought I was with the wrong group of kids in elementary school because I was a head taller than the other boys. As if I wasn’t already too big, I had another growth spurt the summer before freshman year of high school. At fourteen my dad began teaching me how to lift weights. My body developed rapidly, and it took me a long time to get comfortable with those changes. By the time I was eighteen, I was larger than my father, who was by no means a small man. My weight sort of leveled out in my early twenties, and I graduated college at my current height and 270 pounds.
Joining the workforce was frightening, yet liberating. I had disposable income and the ability to make my own life decisions. I began working where I was currently employed as a copywriter two months after getting my degree. Lots of late nights and hard work helped me rise in the ranks. I was promoted to the executive level three years ago, and had run through five assistants in that time. I was now thirty-two, unmarried, and a little stifled.
I spent most of my time working. I hadn’t had a hookup in literal years, and to be frank, I didn’t see one happening in the near future. I used to be able to lean into being the big, burly guy who’d had one too many beers. I walked the line between dad-bod and straight-up fat guy for as long as I could before I was promoted. Being an executive meant a lot more responsibility and a lot less free time. My tri-weekly lifting sessions were now a thing of the past. I thought I could stand to lose a few pounds then, but now I was over 350 pounds.
Having Parker as my assistant only exacerbated my feelings of loneliness (and horniness). He probably didn’t even know I was gay and very much into his tight slacks and obedient disposition. The last month had been amazing, yet torturous.
“I have your forms, Mr. Reynolds.”
I told him he could call me Andy, or even just Andrew, but he never did. It was about lunch time and I was getting a bit restless. Maybe I’d run off my other assistants with my multiple food orders throughout the day. I seemed to simply exist in a state of hunger. I was also slightly convinced I couldn’t do my best work on an empty stomach.
I looked at Parker standing in front of me. His dark brown hair was short and very stylish. My hair was cut in a neat fade and my facial hair was thick. I’d kept a standing appointment with my barber every Sunday morning at ten for the last five years.
“Thank you,” I said, holding out my hand to take the manila folder that contained the forms from him. Like some cheesy porno with ridiculous circumstances to set up a sexual scenario, the folder fell through my fingers, all the papers scattering on my office floor.
“Oh, sorry!” he exclaimed. “That’s my bad.” He bent over to pick up the documents, noticing there were more papers to gather than he first realized. He then got on his knees in front of my desk and once again I got to take in his beautiful ass. The fabric of his slacks pulled tight against his butt. His back was slightly arched, as if advertising himself to me. What I wouldn’t give to be bucking my hips behind him. I thought about fucking him constantly, and it had become an obsession. I’d definitely gotten the vibe that he was gay, but I had some serious doubts he’d ever want to hook up with me. “Here you go,” he said, hopping to his feet and handing me the papers.
Almost like it was trying to embarrass me and purposely kill my arousal, my stomach growled.
“Sorry,” I said. I couldn’t believe how hot my face got. My stomach growling was only going to draw attention to the fact that I was twice his size. The portion of goodies I received from Parker at the start of the day was on the smaller side, so that hadn’t helped to dull my hunger pains.
“It’s okay.” He smiled. “It’s lunchtime.” I felt my face go hot once more.
“Yeah, I guess I am kind of hungry.”
“You’re a pretty big guy. I get it.” He fidgeted with one of the buttons on his dress shirt. “Do you, maybe, want to take lunch with me today?”
“I’ve never eaten with one of my assistants before,” I said, in disbelief he wanted to spend time with me outside of the office.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can just pick something up for you if you’d prefer—”
I stood quickly, not wanting to pass up any opportunity to talk to him about topics not related to copies or signatures or meetings. My gut shook a bit with the momentum. The buttons had given me a difficult time when getting dressed, and I needed to get some new shirts.
“I’m free for lunch,” I exclaimed. “We can go now.”
There were a ton of restaurants in the downtown area. I asked what he wanted to eat and he deferred to me, claiming he wanted me to get whatever I was craving. If I were able to get whatever I was craving, it would be the Parker Jeong meal, extra sauce. He’d probably think that was so cringe. I sighed to myself.
“There’s this place called The Coop,” I said, giving my second choice for lunch. “They serve Nashville style hot chicken.”
At the restaurant he got a normal sized portion of food for a normal sized person, and I wanted to be good, but I needed to replace the lust I was feeling with something else, and that something else was two Nashville hot chicken sandwiches, a large fry, baked beans, coleslaw, and a strawberry mint frozen lemonade.
He didn’t even bat an eye, offering to pick up our trays while I waited at the table. I knew he was just being nice to me because I was his boss. I’d paid for the food, so he was probably just still in assistant mode.
“Order up,” he said, returning to where we sat, setting my overstuffed tray in front of me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking in his tray with three tenders and a medium fry.
“Do you like to eat here a lot?” he asked, sipping from his unsweetened iced tea. Coming from someone else, that would’ve felt like a jab, but from him it just felt conversational.
“I do like this place a lot. Especially for the downtown area. The portions aren’t skimpy and it tastes pretty good too.”
“What other places do you like?”
“Oh, well that’s easy,” I said, digging into my first sandwich. “There’s Tripp’s for seafood, Curry House for Indian, Miss Janie’s for BBQ, oh yeah—Sub Daddy has these huge hoagies. Best in the city. And they’re open late!”
“Sub Daddy?” he laughed. “What kind of name is that?”
“Well, maybe they’re leaning into the innuendo?”
“Hmm, maybe,” he said, looking down at his tenders. “We’ll have to eat there together soon, though Dom Daddies are actually more my speed.”
Was that directed towards me? There was no chance. Absolutely no way. He wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t coming on to me. But still—even if his comment meant nothing, I could feel myself getting hard.
I took another big bite of my sandwich, trying not to fuck things up. If I lost another assistant they’d probably open an investigation or something to figure out what I did to keep running them off.
“So, um, how’s your food?” I asked, deflecting.
The vibes never quite got back on track after that. I was too wound up and way too invested in my food. If my inability to hold conversation wasn’t enough to scare him off, me stuffing my face for fifteen minutes straight surely did the job.
We made our way back to the office and finished up for the day. It was a little after five when Parker peeked his head into my office.
“Have a good night, Mr. Reynolds.” He hesitated for a moment. “Oh, and thanks for lunch.”
“No problem. I enjoyed your company.” I did enjoy his company. Even with how poorly I felt things went, it was nice being out in public with him. I had to remind myself it wasn’t a date and only lunch between colleagues.
“About the joke I made,” he started, stepping completely into my office and closing the door. “I am so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon.”
“Don’t even sweat it,” I said, knowing I sent him into this spiral because I was now inept at talking to cute men. Things had been so much easier ten years ago.
“I am gay,” he continued. “I know some people feel a type of way about that sort of thing. I just don’t want it to ruin our relationship.”
“You don’t need to disclose your sexual orientation, there are policies in place to protect people from discrimination in the workplace and I’d never treat you poorly because of something like that because—”
“Because you’re a really good boss, I know. I’m sorry I even thought you’d treat me differently. It’s just—the real world is way different than a college campus.”
I was about to come out to him. What did I even think was going to happen? Were we going to fuck, me taking control as his sought after Dom Daddy? I was being ridiculous. Of course he was concerned about his career.
“Are you going to be much longer?” he asked.
“Yeah, I have to catch up on some work for that supercenter presentation next week.” He started to take off his jacket. “No need to do that, Parker.”
“I can help,” he said.
“No, that’s okay. Don’t ruin your evening,” I said, still feeling embarrassed by this whole debacle. I could use his help. The copy room was unbearably small and I didn’t want to have to keep squeezing in and out of there.
“But if you need my help, I can help.” He smiled. “It’s my job. I’m your assistant.”
I was glad he wanted to help me. He was truly the best assistant I‘d ever had and not just because he had such a fantastic ass. I didn’t want to come across as demanding or difficult to work with, but selfishly, I wanted to spend more time with him.
“Well, okay,” I relented. “As long as you’re free.”
“I’ll order us something from Sub Daddy,” he said, heading back out to his station. “It’s been hours since lunch. You can’t focus on an empty stomach.”
After that, we worked late a lot, and went to lunch together even more often. He was more than willing to try new restaurants with me, always encouraging me to order as much as I wanted. He always offered to treat me, but I never let him. What sense did that make? He only ever ate a fourth of what I did.
His personality was pleasant, which didn’t make it easier for me to stifle my crush on him. Who wouldn’t be into him? He was smart, hardworking, fun, and considerate. He knew how to bake and never made me feel bad about eating what I wanted. I had gotten into the habit of eating more and more when I was around him. I hardly noticed until all the food was gone. I found myself to be less nervous when I was stuffing my face. It felt less likely that I’d say something dumb. When I was 70 pounds lighter, I was way more willing to flirt or say something corny to make a guy laugh. But now I felt like everything I said or did seemed desperate. And so instead of talking, I stuffed my face. In the two months Parker had been working with me, I’d gained ten pounds.
On our late nights, I always told him he could leave but he never did. Not once.
That was enough to keep my delusional fantasies about him going.
He started mentioning clubs and bars, asking if I’d ever want to go with. I figured it was just a gesture, and I was way too rusty to ever take him up on the offer, but maybe one day I could. The more I got to know him, the more I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in me too.
My pants had gotten even tighter; I needed some new ones. My thighs filled them out completely and my ass was getting pretty big too. I’d never gotten around to getting those new shirts, and now I needed new pants. I had to face it. I was fat, and with my habits, I was just going to keep getting fatter.
It was late October, and one of the other execs was celebrating his fiftieth. His assistant and a few of the interns had organized a little office party for him after lunch. I’d already eaten these really delicious chocolate covered pretzel sticks Parker made me and something he’d picked up for me from The Coop for lunch.
Everyone filed into our largest conference room. There were a few toasts and it was a decent time overall. Then the cake was revealed. It was from a nice bakery near our office that people always used when doing festive things like this.
It was time to admit to myself that I loved sweets, and with Parker’s kind gestures, I had tried tons of things I’d never eaten before.
I moseyed on over to the cake, planning to only have a piece. Just enough to be polite to the planning committee. But it was delicious. It was a strawberry lemon layer cake, the perfect marriage between tart and sweet flavors. The lemon cake layers were separated by a delightful strawberry compote (a term I’d learned from Parker), which was also incorporated into the rich buttercream frosting.
By the time I finished my (substantial) piece, Parker discreetly replaced my empty plate with another that had an even larger slice. He did this three more times while we mingled with others from the office. I must have ended up having a third of that cake to myself.
Returning to my office after the celebration gave me time to reflect. I tried to get some work done, but it was hard to focus, especially with the buttons on my yet to be replaced shirt and slacks straining.
What was Parker trying to do? Was he simply being an attentive assistant or was he subtly making fun of me? Or maybe I was just too in my head and he was attracted to me? He’d never done or said anything that alluded to disliking me because of my size. But that didn’t mean he was attracted to me because of it either. I looped through variations of the same arguments over and over.
I must’ve overanalyzed those different scenarios for a good fifteen minutes before shifting my focus back to work. I’d already sent Parker to the art department to collect some mock-ups we’d need, but I couldn’t move forward in my current task without making some photocopies.
I was going to have to face the dreaded copy room.
Minutes later, I stood outside of the copy room. I paused momentarily to psych myself up before proceeding. The room was not spacious to begin with, but with multiple built-in cabinets full of office supplies on one wall and a line of photocopiers on the other, the only space for a person to move was a narrow strip of floor down the middle of the room. I walked up the aisle to one of the machines in the center of the room.
So far, so good. I made one of my copies, and proceeded to the next. Still good. I moved on to my last document. That’s when the machine jammed.
“Fuck me,” I said to myself, sighing. I took a step back, my ass already brushing against a cabinet. I leaned forward, opening the side panel and noticing the jammed paper immediately. This would be an easy fix, thankfully. I was bending my knees slightly, and I could feel the fabric of my slacks pulling tight against my beefy behind. It might have just been my anxiety, but I swear I could feel the stitch on the rise of my pants stretching to its limit. I made a mental note to myself that at this point some new items in my wardrobe were necessary, not optional.
I removed the jammed paper, made my last copy, and swiftly made my exit from that claustrophobic space. Bull in a china shop, meet Andrew Reynolds in the copy room.
I paused for a moment, as I could hear Parker’s voice.
“I really should be getting back.”
“Come on, Parker. You can’t actually like working with Andy.” I backpedaled before I could be seen. It was Antoinette, one of the office gossips. She’d been close with my previous administrative assistant.
“Yeah, I do,” Parker said, sounding somewhat bothered. “He’s really very nice. And super smart.” Whoa. He was actually sticking up for me. I could hardly believe it.
“You’re gay, right?”
What a segue. Antoinette was likely upset he wasn’t down to badmouth me, ready to move the conversation in a direction she found more interesting.
“Uh, yeah, I am,” he said, his tone slightly more annoyed.
“You don’t like him, do you?” Antoinette pushed. “Because you’re probably barking up the wrong tree with that one. He’s never been with anyone since I started here, and it’s been seven years.”
“Mr. Reynolds might just be a private person. He could have a wife and kids at home. You don’t know.” At this, she laughed.
“I highly doubt that.” Parker likely made a face, as she then said, “Now don’t give me that look. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I hadn’t realized how much you looked up to Andy.” She couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic.
“Like I said,” he reiterated. “I really should be getting back.”
“Okay, wait. I only bring it up because there’s someone else in the office who is interested in you.” She sounded like some sort of matchmaker.
“Toni, please.” He sounded even more irritated. “I don’t think my love life is any of your business, and I don’t need you to hook me up with anyone.”
“Mark is the one that wanted me to talk to you. He really likes you,” Antoinette continued. Mark was a copywriter that had started two or three years after I did. He’d never gotten over the fact that I’d been promoted and he hadn’t.
“I’m flattered, truly,” Parker replied. “But please tell him I’m not interested.”
“Fine, but here’s his card anyway.” There was a slight pause. “But you’ve got to be real with me. Working with Andy must be hard. I heard from his last assistant that he was so demanding, and not about work matters. She spent most of her time placing food orders and picking up his take-out.” She laughed. “Did you see all that cake he ate at Dave’s party this afternoon? That’s why he’s not with somebody. Who wants to date a pig?” I felt my stomach tighten in embarrassment.
“Watch how you speak about my boss,” Parker responded. “This conversation is over.”
“Fine, I swear—” I could hear her heels clicking on the linoleum of the hallway as she walked away from the corner in which they’d been speaking. I could then hear Parker’s steps as he headed towards the copy room.
I froze.
What could I do? There was nowhere to hide. I was in the world’s smallest copy room, and even if there was somewhere to hide, there was no way I’d fit into that hiding spot. I just stood there, ready to face the awkwardness. He turned the corner quickly, bumping into my stomach.
He stumbled back, almost losing his balance. He dropped all the samples from the art department. I could feel that tight feeling in my stomach again, my mouth going dry. He must have known I was listening.
“Mr. Reynolds?” he mused. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” He knelt down and started picking up the papers.
“No apologies, please. It’s my fault.”
I bent over quickly to help him and there was a loud ripping sound. The same seam in my pants that had worried me moments before gave way. I could tell immediately that my pants had split down the back.
I stood up straight immediately. I could feel his eyes on my face.
“Andrew,” he said softly.
No, not the pity. I could feel it coming, and that would make me feel worse. I pushed past him, leaving him alone in that tiny room to gather the scattered papers. I waddled awkwardly back to my office to grab my jacket. I didn’t want the pants to rip anymore than they already had. I needed to get some new slacks.
Taking a moment, I looked in the mirror on the back of my office door. My blue button up shirt didn’t hide my large, round belly. I’d really let things get bad these last few months. I had completely lost all restraint since meeting Parker. I was happy-eating when he brought me his baked goods. I was nervous-eating when we went out to lunch together. I was sad-eating at home when I thought about how much it sucked to have unrequited feelings.
My love handles sloped away from my torso down over the side of my pants. My pants looked like they’d been painted on my meaty thighs. When did my face get so round? If I shaved my beard how many chins would I find? More than the one I remembered when I started working here ten years ago? I had once had a square jaw, but I knew now it would be backed by a second chin, with a new layer of fat likely being formed behind that. My round cheeks made my eyes look smaller than they were in my youth. I even had a light dabbling of sweat on my forehead from my dash back into my office.
“Mr. Reynolds?” Parker called gently as he knocked at my door. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said, speaking slowly. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” he inquired.
“Yes, I’m sure. I need to head out for an errand, so please make sure you reschedule the rest of my meetings this afternoon.”
“Do you need to go shopping?” he asked.
I could have leaped from my office window—and we were on the twentieth floor. Any chance of ever being with Parker was surely ruined. I needed to rip off the Band-Aid and get this interaction over with. I opened my office door.
“I could help you pick some things out,” he suggested. “I am your assistant. And I know it’s a stereotype, but I have a pretty good fashion sense.” He was trying so hard to be nice to me.
“This is my problem.” I was still speaking slowly, forcing the words out in a way that likely came off as short. “This is a personal matter, not something to do with work.”
He didn’t say anything. He turned and walked over to his desk, rummaging in one of the drawers. He held a tiny sewing kit in his hands as he strode back over to where I stood. He placed his hand on my stomach, pushing me back into the office before closing the door.
“I understand you would rather shop alone, but I’m not going to let my boss walk around with a split in his pants.” What was he expecting me to do? Strip? There was no way.
“Parker—”
“We don’t have to make a big deal out of this, sir,” he said. “Just take off your pants and hand them here. I can mend them in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Really, that’s not necessary.”
He just stood there, looking at me expectantly. I didn’t want to walk around exposed until I could get to a clothing store. It would only take him fifteen minutes. I took a deep breath and unbuckled my belt. It was a brown leather material that matched my loafers, which I’d slid out of before shimmying out of my too-tight navy slacks.
I could see myself in the mirror behind my office door again. Here I was in my boxer briefs, Parker standing right in front of me, and it wasn’t a scenario I’d previously imagined. He crouched down in front of me, grabbing the pants so I wouldn’t have to bend over.
He inspected the rip for a moment. “This is perfect. It’s not frayed or anything.”
“You really think you can fix them?”
“A temporary fix, yes.” He walked towards one of the extra chairs in my office and had a seat. Things were silent for a few minutes as he threaded the needle and got started on the repair. I’d taken a seat behind my desk and watched him work.
His skin was so smooth, his lips kissably full, his nose a little large for his face.
“I can see why these split,” he said, not looking up from his work. His words abruptly hit me and filled the silence in a way that sat heavy on my mind.
“Me too.” He still hadn’t looked up at me. He just continued mending my pants.
“I knew I needed new ones, and I—” The words got caught in my throat. I was already embarrassed, so maybe it was time for me to just speak honestly, but speaking honestly kind of felt like admitting defeat. It felt like I was giving up on taking things in an intimate direction with Parker. “I’ve been putting it off. They probably could’ve held on a bit longer, but I’ve put on some weight recently.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Guys like you don’t get it. You could have anyone you wanted.”
“What if I wanted you, Andrew?”
He finally looked up from his work. I must’ve been looking at him stone faced, because his bravado faltered almost immediately.
“Mr. Reynolds—I’m so sorry. That was out of line.”
Parker’s confession allowed me to push past that voice in my head that explained away all the things he did as platonic. He liked me. He wanted me. He’d said so himself.
Before the self-doubt set in, I had to shoot my shot. I’d sulk about my split pants late at night years from now, but right at this moment I refused to return to that negative place. He wanted a Dom Daddy, and that was a role I was more than willing to play.
“What if I told you I wanted to fuck you right now?” His face reddened considerably. I’d never seen him so worked up before, and that made me more confident. “Since the day I hired you, I’ve thought about what it’d feel like to be inside of that sweet ass.”
“Sir—”
“C’mere,” I said in a low voice. He stood, placing my slacks in the seat he’d gotten up from, and gingerly made his way to where I sat behind my desk. He looked down at me slightly as I sat, but we were essentially still on eye level with one another. I could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his lips parted slightly in lust. He pressed his crotch into my gut as he leaned down to kiss me. I could feel his erection through his khakis.
I reached up and palmed his ass, holding a cheek in each hand. He really was stacked back there. He moaned slightly, pressing his dick further into my stomach. We continued kissing, and I pulled him even closer into myself.
I could have kissed him like this for hours, but he pulled away after a few minutes. His palms were pressed against my sagging chest, which sat atop my heavy middle. He slid his hands down my front before resting them on the part of my gut that sat out the farthest. Normally, my first instinct would have been to suck it in, but I realized how useless that would have been. There was no hiding it anymore.
He patted my stomach gently before moving his hands beneath it, lifting it and bouncing it up and down slowly. I could see his hardness through his khakis, so it was clear that he was enjoying himself. If I were to be honest with myself, I was enjoying the belly play too. I’d never had someone focus so intently on my gut before.
I stood up, and he tilted his head back to continue meeting my gaze. I had to play this correctly. I knew he made a joke about liking dominant men, but I wasn’t certain it was actually what he was into.
“Get on your knees,” I said, staring down at him.
“Yes sir.”
He knew what I wanted. He pawed at my underwear until it was around my ankles. My dick bobbed freely now, level with his line of sight. The closer he got to me, the harder I got and the harder it was to see him. He reached up with one hand to hold my belly out of the way and with the other he grabbed the base of my dick.
“Get to work,” I instructed. I grabbed a fistful of his hair as he wrapped his mouth around my dick. It had been a while, but I couldn’t recall a better blow. He was a perfectionist in every sense of the word. His one hand gently massaged the base of my gut as he continued sucking me off. I’d been with people who liked that I wasn’t rail thin, but never with someone like Parker. Everything was adding up. The special treats, the lunches together, the cake at the party this afternoon. He liked me being fat, and I was now fairly certain he wanted me even fatter. “I’m about to cum.”
He didn’t stop his work. He simply slowed his pace, teasing my dick with his tongue in a different way. The switch in sensation caused me to erupt. A heavy stream of cum shot from my dick into his mouth and he made sure to get every last drop. I let go of his hair, stepping back so I could have a seat.
I was panting heavily, my underwear around my ankles, gut rising and falling with each deep breath I took. He looked up at me from his place on the floor. His hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. I could still see his erection through his khakis. Damn, he was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. I could hardly believe he was experiencing such intense lust over me.
“You’re something else,” I said, still catching my breath. “And I can’t believe it, but I’d kill for another piece of that cake right now.”
That had him up on his feet, speed-walking from my office and back to the conference room. He was so out of it, he’d probably run to that bakery to get me another piece if he had to.
This shift in our relationship was going to be interesting.
I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen immediately following our initial sexual encounter, but we went about our weekends like nothing had changed. After eating one of the final slices of that cake from the office party, I left early to purchase some new clothing items. He texted me, and I replied, but neither of us mentioned what had happened.
So Monday morning came and I had spent the entire weekend eating optimistically. I thought about how much he’d want me to be eating good. At one point, I googled “gay fat fetish” and found there was a whole world of people not only into big guys, but into big guys getting even bigger. Maybe he’d bring it up, but now I wanted to test the waters a little. What sort of things would get him going? I was excited to find out. Monday morning, I was hard the entire commute to work thinking about demolishing whatever Parker planned to put in front of me.
I walked into the elevator, pressing the button that would lead me to the twentieth floor. I noticed Parker making his way toward the elevators. Just seeing him existing in the world made me so fucking happy. I almost didn’t even notice that Mark was right next to him. I hit the door open button quickly, wanting to be near Parker as soon as possible, even if that meant sharing the space with Mark. The doors stayed open, and they both got on.
“Good Morning, Mr. Reynolds.” He smiled up at me. He was carrying a tote bag, and like some sort of sugar-addicted bloodhound, I was almost certain I could smell cinnamon.
“Parker, hey,” I said, covering my crotch with my bag. Just hearing him say my name was turning me on, giving me a semi. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Hello Andrew,” Mark said. To be completely honest, I’d blocked him out almost immediately. He and I weren’t on the best terms, especially after my promotion.
“Hey Mark.”
“Are you still hitting the gym?” he asked. “Since you got that promotion, I’ve noticed a change in your appearance. I’m sure you’re eating well on that executive salary.”
“I do have a hand in that,” Parker said plainly. “Mr. Reynolds is very kind to indulge my personal baking hobby.”
“But still,” Mark pressed. “Sometimes we’ve got to push ourselves, you know? Once you hit thirty it takes more effort to stay in shape.”
“I think he looks great,” Parker offered, turning to look at Mark. He gave him an obvious once over, his eyes traveling from the top of his head all the way to his shoes. “Do you work out, Mark?”
“Yeah, I do actually,” Mark responded proudly. “Six days a week.”
“Really?” Parker inquired. “I’d have never thought that.”
The man was too stunned to speak.
We all stood silent, the whir of the elevator’s mechanisms the only source of sound. The elevator finally stopped on our floor. Parker and I went towards my office while Mark made his way to his cubicle. Parker placed the tote bag on his desk and I stopped for a moment.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, giving a knowing smile.
“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.”
“You’re something else.”
“I’m nothing special,” he said, removing two Tupperware containers from the tote bag. “So today you have options. You could have some millionaire shortbread bars or carrot cake cinnamon rolls.”
“Or? You act like I’m not going to polish off both of these containers before we head out for lunch.”
“Uh—well, I—I didn’t think you’d want—”
He looked up at me in surprise, like he’d been found out. I’d known Parker for a couple of months now, and I’d never seen him so flustered. It made me weirdly satisfied. He wanted me to eat? He wanted me to put on a few pounds? If he kept blowing me like he had last week, I’d eat whatever he wanted for the rest of my life.
“I bought some new pants, so I can probably keep indulging for a little while. I need my assistant to make sure I don’t go hungry. That’s not a problem, is it?”
“No, sir,” he said. “Not a problem at all, sir.”
“I didn’t think it would be.” I grabbed both containers and went into my office, peeling off both lids and diving into the baked goods with unabashed enthusiasm. Over that first hour of the day, I ate a dozen shortbread bars and six hefty cinnamon rolls.
Once I’d finished both desserts, I sat back at my desk. I felt my chair sag, groaning slightly as I allowed my bulk to settle into the seat. This was so unhinged. What was happening to me? Maybe it was all the sugar, but I was in some sort of stupor. My only thought was how I wanted Parker between my legs again, his hands all over my gut. I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I must’ve sat there for about ten minutes before there was a knock at my door. “Mr. Reynolds?”
“Come in.” Parker opened the door and walked up to my desk. I watched him survey the scene. I laughed a little to myself at the shocked expression on his face as he took in both containers sitting empty in front of me.
“And the cinnamon rolls,” I added. “They were both phenomenal. You’ve got quite the talent.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I only wish I’d had some milk to wash it all down with.”
“I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.”
“There is something you could do for me right now,” I said. He looked back at my office door, which he’d left open. He went over to the door and closed it quietly.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Reynolds?”
“You could get that ass over here, for starters.”
He made his way to where I sat behind my desk, like he had on Friday. We looked at one another for a moment, both taking in the moment. It probably wasn’t smart to fuck my assistant before 10 AM on a Monday, but I’d spent nearly two years involuntarily celibate.
“Get undressed.”
He didn’t question me. He immediately began unbuttoning his crisp, white dress shirt. He tossed it on my desk and then peeled his undershirt off over his head. He shimmied out of his navy-colored chinos. He was in nothing but a pair of stylish briefs. It was obvious he worked out, as his quads bulged with muscle as did his arms. He had well-defined abs, firm pecs.
His body was completely opposite to my own. My legs and arms were large, yes, but not defined with muscle as they had been in the past. I’d never had abs in my entire life. My stomach sat heavy in front of me, packed full of sugary snacks. And even though I’d just eaten enough baked goods for a small get-together, I was already thinking about what I’d be having for lunch.
“What’re we doing for lunch?” I asked. His whole face reddened, all the way to his ears. I reached out to pull him closer, so I could feel his body with my mouth. I kissed his chest softly, enjoying his scent in the process. “I asked you what we’re doing for lunch.”
He moaned loudly.
“Last—last week you mentioned you wanted an—an Italian beef from—” I bit his nipple gently, sucking it afterwards. “Big Beef’s.”
“Fuck that sounds good. With extra hot peppers and a cheese sauce on the side.” He pawed at his briefs, exposing himself to me. He had a nice dick, a respectable size. He was getting off on this for sure. I let go of his waist and began to unbutton my own shirt. He watched me intently, still stroking his penis. I tossed it on the desk with his clothing items.
He paused his masturbatory efforts to help me remove my undershirt. His briefs were now around his ankles and he pressed his dick into my gut. I grabbed at his ass, lightly teasing his hole with my finger as he grinded against me. He didn’t last long after that, coming all over my bloated stomach. He took a step back. Looking down, I could see his cum glistening as it coated the fuzz of my belly. “You’re not done,” I said, lifting my gut to reveal my belt buckle.
A man of excellent intuition, Parker immediately got me out of my pants and gave me some very thorough head.
Oh, and lunch at Big Beef’s that afternoon was stupendous.
We fell into a routine that made every work day well worth it. He was still bringing me his baked goods (beverages now included). We left the office whenever possible to grab a bite to eat during our lunch hour, and when we couldn’t get away he made sure to pick something up for me or to have it delivered. But the best part had to be our sexual escapades. I’d had nearly every part of his body in my mouth at least once. And he was excellent at taking direction. I was pretty sure at this point that he craved it, being told what to do. He was my good boy, doing what I requested, often going above and beyond like there was a chance of being promoted.
From the end of October to the start of the winter holidays, he and I were completely engrossed with one another. Although, even with how intense things had been within the four walls of my office, we had yet to move beyond them.
It was now the second week of December. I was nearing 400 pounds, a thought that was slightly frightening to me. I’d never been this big in my entire life. People around the office had taken notice of my rapid weight gain. It was the elephant in the room. But the food was good, and the sex mind-blowing. I was also intoxicated by Parker’s adoration. With each pound I gained, he seemed to get more and more excited to service me. I wondered how much longer my wardrobe would last before needing to be updated again.
“Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds.” I looked up from the email I was drafting. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
“Yeah? What is it?” I inquired, wondering what it was Parker had been mulling over. He was shifting his weight back and forth, nervously smiling in my direction like the day I hired him.
“Well, my parents bought me these tickets to a musical a few weeks ago, and I know that it’s last minute, but I was really hoping you would come with me to see it.”
“A musical?”
“What can I say?” he offered, shrugging slightly. “I’m as stereotypical as they come.”
“When is it?” I asked.
“Tomorrow.” A Saturday.
Was Parker trying to take things to the next level? This was an exciting development. I would love to spend time with him outside of working hours. I could only imagine how much fun we’d have late into the evening post dinnertime.
“If it’s too much, I understand.”
Too much? Not at all. We both wanted more. It was like a weight had been lifted from me (metaphorically, of course). The office sexcapades were nice, there was no doubt about that, but he too wanted to be more than just a hook-up.
“You just can’t get enough of me, huh?”
He laughed.
“I’m kind of obsessed, can’t you tell?”
“I love being adored,” I said, smiling at him playfully. “And now I’m really looking forward to this musical tomorrow. What’s the runtime? Over two hours, I’m sure. I’ll probably need to eat something beforehand.”
“I’ll make a reservation,” he declared enthusiastically, always delighted at an opportunity to get me eating. I was only half-serious with my comment about needing to eat beforehand, but I wasn’t so sure I’d make it the two and a half hours without a meal prior to the curtain rising. I felt incredibly lucky. We’d be getting dinner and seeing a show (and hopefully having even more fun at one of our apartments after).
Once he made the reservation, he emailed over all the info—the restaurant, the reservation time, the name of the theater, the showtime. I could hardly wait. I’d be counting the milliseconds until then.
The next evening, I dressed to meet Parker for our date. I wore a pair of dark jeans and some Nikes. When I first landed that account, they’d sent over at least ten different pairs. I had lots of dress shirts that fit fairly well since I re-upped, but I wanted to be a little more casual. I found a burgundy crew neck in the back of my dresser that had been a staple in my wardrobe last winter. I pulled it on and found myself shocked at how it fit. I figured there’d be some resistance, but the fabric clung to my plump chest and protruding belly in a way that was much more form-fitting than I anticipated. I tugged at the bottom trying to pull it down to cover the entirety of my stomach. If I moved my arms too much, it exposed some of my brown skin, even though I was also wearing an undershirt.
My first inclination was to change. I wouldn’t have normally wanted to draw attention to my size. But I knew what Parker liked, and I loved pressing his buttons, so I put on my jacket and grabbed my keys, deciding to keep on the sweater. I hoped I wouldn’t come to regret my outfit choice later on.
I was right on time to Haraboji’s, and as I entered the restaurant, I noticed my perfectly punctual assistant had already beaten me to the establishment.
“Mr. Reynolds, over here!” He waved at me from a seat at the bar. I felt silly for being this excited, considering we ate together in restaurants every other day, but this was no work-lunch. This was a Saturday night dinner. A date.
“Parker, hey,” I said, smiling down at my companion for the evening. He was still wearing his jacket, a stylish, olive-green duffle coat. He had on a pair of platform Chelsea boots and dark chinos. “Please, call me Andy, or Andrew—even Drew would be fine.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “I guess we aren’t in the office.”
“That’s exciting, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he replied. “I’ve wanted to eat here with you for months.”
“I’ve heard this place is really good.”
“Have you ever had Korean barbecue before?” he asked. “I haven’t been to a Korean restaurant since I moved here.”
“I haven’t, but you know I’ll try anything. I trust you to make sure I have something tasty.”
After that the hostess called Parker’s name and we were seated. It was pretty crowded, every table filled. In front of us was a little grilling station. Our waiter came and Parker took the reins, ordering what seemed like a lot of food for just two people. He asked for bulgogi, pork belly, garlic butter chicken, and brisket. He also ordered fried seaweed rolls and tteokbokki. Our waiter brought out a lot of little dishes with different vegetables on them.
“These are banchan—um, side dishes,” Parker explained. “They’re really good with the grilled meats. That one is cucumber, that one is potato, and that one is zucchini.”
“And that one is kimchi.”
“Yes, exactly!”
Our waiter returned with another worker to assist him. One of them held our appetizers, the other numerous plates of raw meat on a serving platter. Once all the plates were set out in front of us, it seemed truly excessive. Parker got to work immediately, oiling the grill and placing meat on it strategically. As things were cooked he piled them high on my plate. Everything tasted great and I followed every suggestion he gave me. “Eat this with that,” he’d say, hyper focused on his grilling. “Ooo, you’ve got to try that with this dipping sauce.”
Halfway through the meal, I noticed that he was no longer eating. I seemed to be his main priority. I was now regretting my earlier boldness when getting dressed for this outing. My sweater rose slightly on my stomach exposing the light layer of dark hair on my underbelly. Parker didn’t stop either, making sure to cook every piece of meat that had been provided to us.
“There’s also Korean fried chicken on the menu,” he said, having just finished grilling the last bit of bulgogi and pork belly. “They come in orders of four.”
I groaned slightly, sitting back in my seat and resting my hand on the top of my gut.
That was when the waiter returned, taking in my gorged state his face reddened on my behalf and he focused his attention on Parker. “Is there anything else I can get for you guys?”
“Yes, we wanted a double order of the fried chicken wings and a bottle of peach soju.”
The waiter glanced in my direction and then back at Parker. He probably couldn’t believe we were ordering more food. I couldn’t believe we were ordering more food, but my date was a man on a mission. We did have about forty minutes before we needed to be at the theater, but I still thought he was cutting it close.
“I’ll put that in right now.” I waited for our server to leave before speaking.
“I’m spilling out of my sweater and you're still shoving food in my direction.”
“Andy,” he said innocently. “You don’t want to be hungry while the show is going on. You said so yourself, remember?”
“How considerate of you,” I responded, sitting up. I grabbed my fork and started in on the last bit of meat he’d put on my plate. “And I can’t wait to thank you at my place after the show.”
After dinner at Haraboji’s, we made our way to the theater for the musical. I’d already parked my Buick Enclave in a parking garage on the same street as the restaurant. He informed me that he picked this restaurant not only because he’d been wanting to try it, but also because it was only a block away from where we’d be seeing the show.
I was so full I didn’t feel like doing anything, especially walking. I was perspiring a little bit so I left my jacket open to air myself out. I could feel a cool breeze on my stomach, but I just ignored it. Parker was leading the way, glancing my way every so often to check me out. If his parents hadn’t gone through the trouble of buying him these tickets, we’d already be halfway to my place.
We made it to the lobby and the worker scanned the tickets on Parker’s phone. There was about ten minutes until the show would start so we made our way to our seats. This was where things got awkward.
Personally, when purchasing tickets in advance, I always tried to get the seat closest to the aisle. But these two seats were right in the middle of a row. Not everyone was in their seats yet, but we’d still need to shimmy past five or so people. Parker seemed somewhat oblivious to this issue, and in his defense, he likely never faced this sort of problem. Being bigger meant anticipating any obstacle. Would there be a lot of walking? Would there be a lot of stairs? How sturdy were the seats? I’d always thought about these things, but having gained fifty pounds in the last five months created even more complications I needed to be ready for.
“Excuse us,” Parker said, making his way into the row. He got by the first person with ease, whereas the man needed to stand up for me and press himself as far back into his seat as possible. Even then, my gut pushed up against him as I made my way past him. This happened four more times until we made it to our seats.
I sat in the chair and it creaked loudly. It was a really tight squeeze. This was not a theater that had been updated this century. It had probably been forty or fifty years since there had been any type of alteration to the seating. The armrests could not be lifted, so I sat there as they dug into the sides of my bloated gut. Fuck, I thought. Maybe we shouldn’t have gone so hard at dinner.
“Isn’t there like a special section for bigger people?” the woman next to me asked the man she was with. She was at least trying to whisper, but considering the fact I was sitting right next to her that didn’t do much to keep me from hearing her. “It’s just, these seats are so small, you know? Even for someone regularly sized.”
I’d been feeling pretty good before all of this happened. I was used to people making comments. But something about this made me really think hard about what I’d been doing to my body. I was already fat. I’d already had horrible eating habits. But should I have let this thing with Parker push me so completely into gluttony? I was the one who had to deal with the wardrobe malfunctions and too-small theater seats.
Parker was a great person and a masterful lover, but he was also ten years younger than me. If this dalliance were to end, he could go about his life unchanged. But me? How much bigger would I be by the time he got bored of me?
“Andy,” Parker said, his hand on my thigh. “Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. This wasn’t the time or place to share my thoughts with him.
“I didn’t pick the seats,” he explained. “Next time, I’ll make sure that we’re on the end.”
“Thanks.” I exhaled, feeling a little better. Him saying that didn’t absolve all of my fears, but it reminded me of how thoughtful Parker was. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like to be my size, but he did try to consider how my size affected my day-to-day life.
The lights dimmed and the show started a few minutes later. It was pretty funny and the music was enjoyable. I never thought a musical adaptation of an 80’s fantasy-horror-comedy would be any good, but I’d see it again if given the chance. After the cast took their bows we waited for our row to clear out before we got up. I could tell he really enjoyed himself, so that made the two and half hours in that seat from hell worth it.
“I Ubered here from my apartment,” he said once we were outside.
“I’m in that parking garage by the restaurant,” I said. “I could give you a ride home.”
“You did say you needed to thank me at dinner.”
“Oh, I know just how to thank you.” It was nearly ten, and aside from the people who were also leaving the theater, there weren’t a ton of people around. I grabbed Parker’s hand and we went to my car. I asked him where he lived and other than that I just listened to all the fun facts he had about the production. We were soon out front. “You’re coming up, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course.” I parked and we made our way towards the entrance. He led me up some stairs to his fourth floor apartment. If he lived any higher, we’d have had to call it a night. His place was pretty small, a one bedroom. It was also super neat and tidy. Everything about Parker was that way.
He took off his jacket and hung it in the closet, offering to take mine too in the process. He told me to take a seat on the couch. I sat and realized how little it was. I guess a couch of this size was all he really needed, but it was more like a chair. I filled it up three-fourths of the way.
He carried in a tray with some vanilla oat milk and a container of cookies. He placed it on the coffee table and sat on the remaining one-fourth of sofa. “Consider these as a thank you for a great evening,” he said. “They’re lemon shortbread.”
“You must spend a fortune on butter and eggs.”
“Not at all, I just started buying in bulk when I realized I had someone to bake for.”
“I appreciate getting to eat everything you’ve made for me,” I said, pulling at my sweater, “though I should probably slow down on all the baked goods.” I looked in his direction, wondering how he’d take in that information. He looked a little hurt, a little embarrassed.
“Is everything okay, Andy?” he asked. “With us, I mean. I just thought—”
I could just keep all of these concerns to myself, but that wouldn’t solve anything. It was probably better to have this conversation now instead of later. “I’ve gained a substantial amount of weight since we started sleeping together. I know we haven’t put into words what this is, but I’m pretty sure you’re a feeder—or an encourager—which term is it?” I thought about all the information I found back when I investigated gay fat fetishes a few months ago.
“I think they’re pretty interchangeable.” He wasn’t looking at me. “And I guess that I am, yes.” He actually looked super pale. Was he scared? Did he think I was upset? I figured he was aware that he’d been found out months ago. He was always so focused on my weight and overfeeding me. His preferences were kind of obvious.
“I’m not upset,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “If I’m being honest, I’m pretty into it.”
He looked up at me, relief overtaking his previously sullen expression. “You are?”
“I think you know I like to eat. And getting bigger is kind of hot when I have someone so into it.”
“I’m into it for sure.”
“My main concern is how serious you are, Parker.” He looked at me intently, waiting for me to continue speaking. “You’re young. You’re still fairly new to the area. When it comes down to it, you’re a hot commodity. Any guy would be lucky to be with you. With how big I was, with how big I’ve gotten, I’m limiting myself. My prospects were slim before, but I’ve probably made the margins even smaller in regards to my marketability.”
“Andrew, I am very serious about you,” he said. “You are the sexiest guy I’ve ever been with. You’re also the biggest guy I've ever been with. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I am willing to do. If you want to lose weight, that’s fine. If you want me to stop with the baking, that’s fine. I just want you. I like you.”
“I like you too. I have since you first started working for me.” Our eyes were locked on one another. This conversation felt so real, so needed. This guy was serious about me. What a relief. “And let’s not be too hasty about the baking. I’ll let you know if we need to slow down, Mr. Feeder.”
This caused his whole face to redden, all the way to his ears. I loved when that happened. It was so funny to see his emotions so clearly. “Now bring that container of cookies over here. I’m hungry.”
Maybe it was reckless of me. Maybe I should’ve taken the out Parker had offered me. But I kept on eating like I had been. I blew past 400 pounds as we entered the new year. He’d flown home for the holidays, so I spent time with my own family. They all showed great concern for how big I’d gotten, but that didn’t stop them from piling my plate high with soul food at Christmas dinner. That was just how my family operated. It’s why I was so big growing up to begin with.
That first Monday back after the winter holidays was nice because we were able to fall back into our normal routine, which included copious amounts of food and a great deal sex. While most people around the office set goals for having a healthier diet or joining a gym, I did nothing of the sort. It was somewhat freeing to know there was no resolution I was bound to break.
Over the first few months of the new year, Parker began spending more and more time at my apartment. Suddenly there was a toothbrush, and then extra pairs of underwear, and then, an item that let me know how serious things had gotten between us, his KitchenAid Stand Mixer.
“You’re here more than at your place,” I said one Saturday evening in April. We’d ordered pizza for dinner, and even though Parker had stopped eating thirty minutes ago, I was still working on an extra-large, tavern-style sausage and pepperoni. I’d already eaten some buffalo wings and a Caesar salad (for balance, of course). “When does your lease end?”
“Well, it ends August of this year.”
“Cancel it.”
“Cancel it?”
“Yeah,” I said, reaching for another slice. “I’ll pay whatever fee your landlord charges for breaking your lease.”
The next week he moved into my three-bedroom apartment. I had more than enough room for his stuff. Even his dollhouse-sized couch fit comfortably against a wall in the home office. This did mean my office baked goods were a thing of the past. They were never able to last long enough after he prepared them to be brought into work. Since meeting Parker nine months ago, I was now 75 pounds heavier.
Parker and I were going to take a long weekend for Memorial Day. We’d both put in for the day off on Friday and we wouldn’t need to return to the office until Tuesday. I’d rented a house up north, about three hours away. The Thursday before we were to leave, Parker frantically entered my office a little after we returned from lunch.
I was positively beached. We were both looking forward to the weekend and he excitedly ordered for me at Rockin’ Sushi. We had purchased enough sashimi, nigiri, and maki rolls for a party of five or six people.
My belly covered my lap almost to my knees when I sat. I normally didn’t dress so casually for the office, but today I was wearing a polo. The fabric was pulled tight around my stomach and I’d been massaging the sides of my gut before Parker came to find me. If he didn’t seem so distraught, I’d have asked him to take over.
“We can’t go out of town,” he said. “We have to reevaluate your accounts.”
“What?” I asked, my eyes half-open. “I have nine major accounts and twelve smaller ones. That’s more than all the other execs.”
“Yes, that’s true, but—” he stopped talking. He probably felt like he’d been overreacting, but I wanted to make sure his worries were quelled.
“Talk to me.”
“I heard from Mr. Monroe’s assistant, who heard from Mr. Otterly’s assistant, that Mr. Otterly plans to retire at the end of June.” John Otterly was well past the age for retirement. His presence at Hathaway and Associates was really just a formality at this point. He’d been an exec at our agency since the mid-seventies. In his prime, for sure, he was incredible at pulling in clients and coming up with catchy slogans for print ads. Now, he had only one major account for a failing brand of novelty gag-gifts. “They’re looking to promote someone, but they want to make the position more robust by taking some accounts from other executives.”
“Bullshit.”
“Agreed.” He watched me heave myself out of my desk chair. “What should we do?”
“Follow me.”
I might have moved a little bit more slowly these days, but with Parker’s help I’d acquired two new clients in the last nine months and strengthened our agency’s relationship with all my original accounts. I wasn’t just some overweight behemoth who didn’t do any work. I was a heavy hitter. I’d recently had a confidence about myself that, shamefully, came from the idolization and devotion Parker gave to me. I was the biggest I’d ever been, but I didn’t feel ashamed of myself. I was already going to draw attention entering a room so I might as well not give a fuck what people thought.
We stopped outside of William Hathaway’s office, whose grandfather had actually founded Hathaway and Associates almost a century ago. We executives kept things running while he received a great deal of the credit, considering he was only in office two days a week. He did hold a forty-five percent share on the board of directors, which was the largest portion of any member. This meant he had a great deal of influence when the board made the large decisions that affected day-to-day operations.
“He’s preparing to leave early for the holiday weekend,” his administrative assistant said plainly. She was also the office manager. Mr. Hathaway’s schedule allowed her to take on more responsibilities, so she helped to organize the tasks for the interns and other assistants. “He doesn’t want to be bothered, especially after the meeting he just had.”
“Martha,” Parker said gently, smiling in her direction. “Mr. Reynolds was hoping to speak with Mr. Hathaway before he left. If he’s not terribly busy, would you please let him?”
“I don’t know. He was pretty adamant that he didn’t want to see anyone else.”
“Didn’t you say your husband liked the chocolate-dipped almond biscotti I made you for your anniversary?”
“Those were divine,” she said, taking more interest in Parker’s plea. I remembered those biscotti. I’d eaten two test batches before he felt confident enough to share them with Martha.
“Weren’t they?” I added. “I don’t know how he does it, but he’s incredibly talented.”
“My husband’s birthday is coming up,” she pondered aloud. “Have you ever made a cake before?”
“Of course!”
They ironed out some details and settled on a tiramisu inspired layer cake. She hopped out of her seat giddily and went to inform Hathaway of our arrival. We got the go ahead to enter and there he was waiting for us behind his desk nursing a scotch.
“Reynolds, you’re bigger every time I see you.”
Hathaway wasn’t one to mince words.
“You’re one to talk. I’m not the only one carrying around a spare tire.” This made him laugh.
“I’m in my sixties, what’s your excuse?” He didn’t stop. “And I’ve got a spare tire, you’ve got a whole Goodyear.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, allowing him to think his ribbing had gotten to me. “I’m just eating good. And my assistant here is a master baker.”
“He is, eh?” Hathaway asked, drinking from his scotch. “You're the biscotti boy?”
“Yes sir. That’s me.”
“Martha, that stingy bitch, only let me have one. Said they were for her anniversary. I’ve got an anniversary. And a birthday.”
“I’ll get those dates from Martha, sir.” Hathaway gave an impressed smirk and took another sip from his drink.
After that, we were finally able to talk business. I asked about Otterly. His retirement was true, a decision “strongly encouraged” by all members of the board. The position being padded with the accounts of other executives was also true. We would be asked in the coming month to choose one or two of our large scale accounts to let go of. When I asked why they didn’t just cut the position, they were concerned about losing their lead copywriter, who voiced concerns about a lack of upward mobility at Hathaway and Associates. He claimed he’d be willing to walk away from the agency unless he was seriously considered for Otterly’s position.
That lead copywriter? Mark.
If it were anyone else, I would have thought twice about my next course of action. But for Mark? I couldn't care less.
“Well,” I started, hoping I was playing this right. “I say cut Otterly’s position. Give his few accounts to one of us execs, and if he walks, he walks.”
“He’s done good work,” Hathaway offered.
“You can save a great deal by cutting the position. Promote one of the junior copywriters to Mark’s position. And for good measure, Parker here can take the open junior copywriter role.” Parker made a sound of surprise but did his best to recover.
“Biscotti boy?”
“He’s got the Andrew Reynolds seal of approval.” This meant a great deal. I had the most accounts out of all eleven execs. I also had the greatest renewal rates. “I’d be losing the world’s greatest assistant, but I’d do anything for Hathaway and Associates.”
“My great-niece did just graduate from Columbia,” Hathaway said. “I’m sure she’ll need help finding a job with a degree in art history.” If I had to deal with another nepo-baby, so be it. I was keeping my accounts and helping Parker advance in his career.
“Just think about it,” I said, ending our conversation. As we left his office, Martha entered. Before the door closed completely, I heard him mentioning that the board needed to convene after the holiday weekend to vote about an important matter. I had a good feeling that things were going to change for my little Biscotti Boy.
We did still manage to make it up to the house I rented. Fortunately, it was somewhat secluded, the houses pretty far apart from each other. They were only really visible to one another from the front yard. Parker had a long list of grocery items he needed, so our first stop after checking into the rental was the local supercenter. He was obviously grateful for what I’d done in Hathaway’s office, and he spent the weekend showing me that gratitude with his culinary skills and physical flexibility. My favorite memory from our trip would be how he’d gotten me on the floor after grilling some brats and making s’mores.
“Okay, so bend your knees,” he said, swinging his leg around my waist after tossing me a pillow for underneath my head. There wasn’t a ton of space between my bent knees and my bulging belly, but Parker fit there perfectly. He looked down at me as he sat atop my waist, sliding all nine inches of my penis inside himself. He rested his hands on my stomach. Their warmth penetrated me to my core.
I reached up to grab at his butt as he rode me. It felt good in my hands, and the thought of what it looked like as I fucked him had me salivating. Always the hard worker, Parker swiveled his hips back and forth rhythmically. His dick was angled upwards, sandwiched between the bottom of my gut and his flat stomach. He leaned forward slightly, his hands sliding up my stomach to my chest. He grabbed my slightly puffy nipples and pinched them gently. That intensified the pleasure I was feeling and I lifted him slightly by raising my legs, pushing myself deeper inside of his ass.
“Oh God,” he moaned, sitting straight up. He bounced up and down like this for nearly a minute before he came. His cum shot up his front, some landing on the floor and on my gut. The look of sheer pleasure on his face was intoxicating. That did it for me too, and had me shooting my load as well.
We stayed on the floor longer than intended. I couldn’t get up just yet, so he covered both of our naked bodies with a large blanket and cuddled up close to me. Losing him as my assistant was going to be tough, but moments like these would make up for it.
Returning to work on Tuesday was fine. I’d have preferred another week in a secluded lake house with Parker, but the real world was waiting for us. Antoinette was in rare form, flitting from assistant to assistant spreading gossip. She was Hathaway and Associates' very own Lady Whistledown, though a lot less discreet.
Before lunch, the board met to discuss the future of Mr. Otterly’s position. Antoinette made sure everyone knew how they voted, openly voicing her dismay that her good friend Mark would not be shifting to an executive role, as John Otterly’s position would be closed and his accounts redistributed amongst some of the remaining executives.
The ball was now in Mark’s court. He could keep his current job or he could quit. I was hoping for the latter, so Parker could shine in the field he’d gone to school for.
We worked all day and at exactly five we clocked out. We entered the elevator and Mark followed behind us. “That’s some shit you pulled Andy,” he spat. I noticed a cardboard box in his hands.
“You’re referring to what exactly?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“Oh please,” he said. “You get a little ass from your assistant and you’re bending over backwards to get him a promotion. It’s pathetic, but it makes a lot of sense. Why else would he ever waste his time trying to find your dick under that massive gut?”
“You’re out of line,” I said, stepping towards him.
“He’s a sneak and you’re a gullible, desperate, sorry excuse for a professional.” He was upset, understandably, but his job had still been intact. He could’ve continued in his role as lead copywriter, a position I held for over four years before my promotion, and one day he’d be seen as ready to move up in the agency. He’d only been lead copywriter for a year and a half, a role in which he’d been given when the previous lead stepped down to take care of her newborn twins. Mark expected things to be handed to him without putting in the work. Now he was throwing a tantrum, and he wanted to take out his anger on us because he thought we were easy targets.
“Have you ever considered the fact that you just aren’t that likable?” I asked, staring down at him, forcing him into the corner of the elevator. “You’re talented, sure, but you are just so fucking hard to like. Hathaway knows this, the other execs know this. Why do you think it was so easy to encourage them to close Otterly’s position? They don’t want to work any more closely with you than they already do.”
I looked down at the cardboard box. Like a baby, he’d quit when he didn’t get his way. “Or should I say did?”
The elevator stopped on the main floor and the doors opened. Mark looked up at me and then over at Parker. “Fuck the both of you,” he said, pushing past me with slight difficulty. Parker looked pretty mortified, his entire face red with embarrassment.
My little ingénue. He was still very green, and I loved that about him, but I needed him to stand up for himself if he was going to survive in this industry. People made jokes or rude comments. There’d be backstabbing and petty office gossip. At the end of the day it didn’t matter. I was proof of that. There’d been talk about my weight for months, and I was still one of the most successful people on staff.
I’d for sure been in a slump before I met Parker, but I was becoming the man I’d been in my early twenties (metaphorically, not physically). There was a lot less self-doubt and self-loathing. I liked looking at myself in the mirror. I knew that I was good at what I did, and I knew I just needed to carry myself like I had when I was grinding as a junior copywriter.
“That was really intense,” he said. We’d slowed, pausing in a stairwell. We were halfway between the lobby and the underground parking garage. “I would never sleep with you for that. I swear that I would never do that.”
“I know.” I felt myself smiling. It made me feel good that he liked me so much. His first thought was how I felt. He was always looking out for me, and if he did get a new role as a copywriter, no assistant would ever live up to what he was capable of.
“I love you,” he said, looking at me seriously. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that to me. How we’d gotten to this point, I’d never fully grasp, but I was glad that we did.
“I love you too,” I said. We were silent for a moment, and I took the opportunity to joke with him. “And I have to say, what an elaborate scheme you pulled. The baked goods, the lunches, the head. All for a promotion. You’re truly a mastermind.”
He laughed, swatting me on the ass. “And this is only Phase One. Mu-ha-ha.”
“What’s Phase Two?”
“Hmm, I’ll let you know when I think of it.”
“Maybe you aren’t the mastermind I thought you were—”
“Shut up!” he said, laughing. “Now let’s get you something good to eat for defending my honor.”
A month later, Parker was officially offered a position as a junior copywriter. He’d taken me shopping for some summer clothing items—both work attire and casual items. The number of X’s on my shirts and shorts was a little shocking, but he did have a knack for picking flattering cuts and patterns. I may have been over 400 pounds, but I’d never looked more stylish.
“Are you ready yet?” Parker called from the living room. It was the last Saturday in June and all of Parker’s old roommates from California were in town for the last weekend of Pride and to celebrate his promotion.
“Yeah,” I called in response. I walked out of our bedroom. “But you’re sure you want me to wear this to meet your friends?”
“Oh, come on,” he said. “It’s just a pair of shorts and a polo. It’s not risqué.”
The shorts were much shorter than I’d buy for myself, but they did fit me very well. They were a good three inches above my knees. He saw them on some Instagram ad and bought me three different pairs. The polo was much more out of my comfort zone. It was cream-colored and a crochet knit. You could see glimpses of my brown skin through the hundreds of small holes that made up the shirt.
“But it seems like you guys want to dance and that’s not really my scene anymore. Can’t you all celebrate tonight and then we all meet up for brunch tomorrow?”
“Okay, what about we all meet up tonight and go out to brunch tomorrow morning?” he countered in rhetorical fashion. “And besides, if you don’t want to burn any calories, you can just have some bar food and a beer.”
“They have those soft pretzels there don’t they?”
“They sure do,” he said, handing me my keys. “Now let’s go please.”
Fortunately I was able to find a good parking spot not too far from the bar. I parked and we walked the block to Dudes. The day had cooled considerably, which I was grateful for. It’d been in the eighties, but it was only about seventy now that the sun had set. They asked to see Parker’s ID and then we made our way inside.
“Parker!” I looked for who had shouted his name. It was another Asian guy who was about Parker’s height.
“Yedam, hey!” Parker looked at me. “Andy, this is Yedam. Yedam, this is my boyfriend Andy.”
“Oh wow,” Yedam said, taking me in. He smiled, like he was trying to stifle a laugh. “Um, it’s nice to meet you.” He locked eyes with Parker, raising his eyebrows theatrically. Was this a good interaction or not? I was having trouble reading the situation. Two other guys made their way to where we stood, both holding drinks. One of the guys handed a glass to Yedam.
“Mike, Sam, this is my boyfriend Andy.” Mike was white and very blond. Sam was black, a little lighter than I was. Overall, they all had the same vibe as Parker. Very put-together, the same height and build.
“This makes sense,” Sam said, gesturing back and forth with his pointer finger between Parker and I.
“Oh yeah, a thousand percent,” Mike added.
I felt like I was missing something, but I was hopeful Parker would fill me in later. The guys all told me I was very handsome and very large. It wasn’t in a sarcastic way, or a flirtatious way even. They presented it like they were simply stating facts. I ordered my pretzels and a round of shots for Parker and his friends. They were all laughing and joking and hanging off of one another. It was almost enough to make me jealous, but I knew I was what Parker wanted. I didn’t need to worry about his friends.
After another shot Parker pulled me towards the crowded dance floor. “Ready?” he asked, leaning into me.
“I thought I was supposed to drink my beer and eat bar food.” I scanned the whole place; I was the biggest guy in the entire club.
“You’ve got all night to eat bar food. You can dance with me for a few minutes.” He started to move his body and I did too. I wasn’t a bad dancer; it was just something I tended to avoid. He turned slowly, his butt against my crotch.
It seemed like the music got faster and louder, and the entire time I couldn’t take my eyes off of Parker. He was absolutely gorgeous. I leaned down, kissing his neck. He lifted his arms, wrapping them around my neck. I stepped back and felt a foot under me.
“Shit, man, watch where you’re going! You’re gonna break someone’s foot!” This guy was drunk.
“What was that?” I asked. Six months ago, I’d have left the dance floor completely mortified. But now, why would I ever stop living my life because I took up just a little too much space? The world was a big place, and people would just have to make room for me.
“Nothing, nothing,” he said, adjusting his tone. “Just be more careful. Sorry.”
“That dude was an ass,” Parker said, turning to face me, resting his hands on my waist.
“As crowded as it is, I was bound to step on someone’s foot.” I leaned down so I didn’t have to shout this next part so loudly. “Although it does probably hurt a little more when the one doing the stepping is over 425 pounds.” Parker smiled at me, and I think it was a relief to him that I was being a good sport.
“Parker! Andy!” It was Sam waving us over to the bar.
He and the rest of Parker’s friends wanted to do another shot and my pretzels were waiting for me. “They were just delivered,” Yedam said. “And we didn’t want them to get cold.”
The rest of the night went pretty well. Parker was always so reserved and in control of himself, so it was nice to see him having fun and letting loose. They were all pretty toasted by midnight, and Mike drunkenly started talking about getting something to eat.
“Why did we drink so much?” he bemoaned, leaning against Yedam as we left the bar. “We should’ve gotten dinner before the bar.”
“You were the one convinced you were getting laid tonight,” Sam stated, stumbling right along next to them.
“Andy knows a place,” Parker said, leaning against me. “Isn’t Sub Daddy’s second location near here?”
“Uh, yeah, it is,” I offered. “I can drive, though you all better not puke.”
“We won’t!” they all sang in unison.
We made it to my Buick unscathed, and I made sure everyone was buckled up. Looking at Parker in the seat next to me and his three drunk besties in the back seat was hilarious to me. It looked like I’d kidnapped a bunch of intoxicated twinks.
“So did Parker used to bake a lot when you all lived together?” I asked, making conversation as we drove.
“Constantly,” Yedam said, sounding comically exasperated. “We had this neighbor.”
“Oh yeah!” Mike interjected. “Big Idris.”
“Your neighbor went by ‘Big Idris?’ Seriously?” I asked.
“Of course not!” Sam exclaimed, cracking up. “I think his real name was Tyler or something?”
“Tyson,” Parker clarified, his entire face and ears covered in a red blush that I didn’t think was entirely from the alcohol.
“Tyson, right,” Sam continued. “We called him Big Idris because he was hot like a young Idris Elba, but much bigger. I mean, not huge.” There was a slight pause, as if he was second guessing his next statement. “Like you’re way bigger than he was.”
“Okay, so he wasn’t fat-fat, got it.”
“So anyway, Big Idris was our neighbor across the hall. When we moved in at the start of our fall semester junior year, Parker baked little treats for everyone on the floor. Big Idris was the only one who came back asking for seconds.” The three of them roared with laughter. I could see where this story was going. Yedam continued the tale.
“It was just like when we were in the dorms. He didn’t have access to a kitchen, but Parker made sure this guy who lived on the floor above us never went without a snack. Insomnia Cookies should probably erect a statue in Parker’s honor. What was his name? Owen?”
“Yes, Owen,” Parker confirmed.
“So Owen, the ex-football player, ended the year having put on the freshman fifteen.”
“Plus fifteen,” Mike added.
“Plus fifteen,” Sam followed. They all cracked up again. Parker was definitely an anomaly to them. An oddity that made for interesting stories. Their sex lives were probably pretty tame compared to what Parker and I were into.
“Owen was nothing like Big Idris though,” Yedam said. “Those 45 pounds were nothing compared to the almost a hundred Big Idris gained living across the hall from us for two years.”
Mike spoke next, saying, “To be fair, it wasn’t all Parker. This guy liked to eat, and he was always ordering DoorDash or UberEats.”
“But Parker wasn’t innocent,” Sam said. “He baked him a different type of cookie at least three times a week.”
“What happened to Big Idris?” I asked, now extremely curious.
“His girlfriend moved in and Parker moved here to start his new job. She’s definitely helped him change his diet around. You can tell he’s lost some weight, not eating as much take-out. But he for sure doesn’t seem as happy as when Parker was visiting his apartment at two in the morning.”
“That’s a shame,” Parker said. Now that had me cracking up as I pulled into the Sub Daddy parking lot. Of course Parker would be upset to hear that all his hard work was being undone.
We went inside and ordered, and the four of them decided to split two sandwiches, which was funny because I ordered two sandwiches for myself. We sat and ate, the four of them passing tiny bags of chips back and forth to supplement their little sandwiches. After we finished eating I drove them back to their Airbnb. We made plans to meet up for brunch the next afternoon, and I was very interested to hear more about Parker as a sexy coed with feeder tendencies.
Parker was only slightly hungover the next morning. We hung out with his friends again in the afternoon. They mostly shared stories, while I mostly ate boujee brunch food. We said our goodbyes and they made plans to get together again soon. They all still lived in the old apartment, at least until their lease ended in the fall. Overall, the weekend had been a success, and I was sure Parker was excited to start his new position come Tuesday.
Monday he’d be training his replacement.
“So make sure his lunch is ordered at eleven so that he’s able to eat by noon,” Parker stated matter-of-factly.
He had been with my new assistant all morning. She was a nice girl, and I could tell she was already a little overwhelmed by all the things Parker expected her to remember. I think Parker was sad to be shifting to a new position, even though he was really excited to be doing what he dreamed of.
He would be on an entirely different side of the office. It was probably for the best that we had a bit of space from each other. We didn’t want to become one of those couples that couldn’t function without the other.
But still, he knew me better than anyone. I didn’t have to think about my next move because he’d already anticipate it.
“Parker, can I see you in my office for a moment?” I asked.
“Yes, of course,” he said before turning his attention to my new assistant. “Nicolette, we can go over the best times to schedule Mr. Reynolds for a meeting after you get back from your break.” She couldn’t grab her purse fast enough. She was probably going to be updating her LinkedIn and putting in applications on Indeed.
“You need to go a bit easier on her,” I said once we were behind closed doors. “Remember that's Hathaway’s great-niece.”
“I didn’t have anyone to show me the ropes when I started,” he said. “I just want to make sure she knows what to do so things go smoothly for you.”
“I’ll be okay, babe.”
“Fine. I’ll dial it back.”
“So how about a quickie for old time’s sake?” He laughed, but he immediately loosened his tie.
I ended up seated behind my desk with my pants around my ankles. He was completely nude, claiming he didn’t want to chance getting a stain on his clothes. He kneeled in front of me and reached into my desk drawer. He grabbed a tiny bottle of lube. He squirted a moderate amount in his palm before wrapping his hand around my erection. He pumped my dick slowly, covering it with the lube.
I watched him stand with his back to me. I got to my feet, grabbing the bottle of lube from him and covering his hole with some of it, massaging it with my fingers. Being between his fat cheeks was always a pleasure. It was the only fatty part about him, and I loved grabbing his ass roughly in these moments. I bent my knees before angling my dick so there’d be a smooth entry and pushed my penis into him slowly. I leaned my body on top of him, my gut resting on his back as I rocked my hips back and forth. I felt his body relaxing as I found a good rhythm. I continued to thrust my hips and he did his best to stifle his moans.
“I’m your biggest success story,” I said breathily, pushing a bit more forcefully. “I just know your friends are going to be shocked the next time they see me.”
“Uh—” he whimpered, his knees buckling slightly.
“Say it,” I said. “Say that you’re gonna make me bigger.”
“I–I’m gonna make you bigger.” He tugged at his dick desperately. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
“500 isn’t that far off,” I said, not entirely believing it myself. Would he want me to get that big? He did tell me that I was the biggest person he’d ever been with. Could he handle that? Could I?
“Oh fuck!” he panted, doing his best to catch his cum in his hand. I gave a few final pushes before filling him with my cum. I pulled myself from inside of him and we both got cleaned up. He got dressed, looking positively pristine, like nothing lewd had just taken place in my office.
That’s when he turned to me and said, “I hope you’re ready for lunch.”
He had a look in his eye that let me know our sex talk wasn’t just talk. Parker had goals, and I liked a man with motivation.
The air in the barracks gymnasium hung thick and stale, saturated with the scent of sweat and desperation. It was 0600 hours. Miller, sergeant, 507 pounds of strained uniform and quivering flesh, stood – or rather, leaned heavily – against a worn concrete pillar. His breathing was already a ragged wheeze. Below the straining buttons of his BDU blouse, his immense, flaccid belly swayed like a waterbed, a vast, pale landscape of stretch marks and deep creases that seemed to absorb the harsh fluorescent light. Every slight shift of his weight sent tremors through the gelatinous mass, ripples cascading outwards with a soft, wet slap against the tight fabric of his undershirt. He watched the new Lieutenant Colonel, Travis, stride onto the polished floor, his own physique a cruel reminder of a bygone era – lean, sharp, radiating contemptuous energy.
"Alright, listen up!" Travis barked, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. Miller flinched, the sound vibrating unpleasantly in his own barrel chest. "The stats are in, and they're a disgrace! This base is a goddamn obesity clinic! Starting today, that changes! PT, every morning. Diet plans. Accountability!"
Miller’s gaze drifted past the officer, scanning the assembled soldiers. It was a gallery of defeat. Men, and some women, whose bodies had long since surrendered to the same sedentary spiral he inhabited. Uniforms were comically tight, fabric straining over distended guts, thighs that rubbed together with audible friction. Buttons looked ready to fire like shrapnel. He saw Private Davies, a man whose chin had vanished into a cascading series of folds beneath his neck, already beet red, sweat plastering his thinning hair to his forehead just from standing at attention. Then he saw Rob.
Rob was a mountain. 573 pounds, easy. His uniform wasn’t just tight; it was a losing battle against sheer, overwhelming mass. The lower buttons of his blouse were perpetually undone, failing to contain the vast, doughy overhang of his gut, which sagged nearly to his crotch. His thighs were immense columns, pressing together so tightly they forced him into a permanent, waddling gait. His face, usually jovial and open, was currently flushed, a sheen of sweat already glistening on his forehead and upper lip. He clutched a half-eaten protein bar – a cruel irony – in one meaty fist. Food. Always food. Miller knew Rob’s ritual: breakfast tray piled impossibly high, snacks constantly ferreted away in pockets or hidden in lockers, a late-night parade to the vending machines. His caloric intake was a staggering monument to addiction, fueled by boredom, stress, and a profound, almost childlike naivete. Rob genuinely believed, deep down, he could ‘start tomorrow’, completely blind to the fortress of fat he’d meticulously constructed around himself.
"Right!" Travis continued, oblivious or indifferent to the collective wave of panic rippling through the room. "We start with a warm-up! Ten laps around the gym! Move it!"
A groan, collective and involuntary, rose from the assembled mass. Movement was agony. Miller pushed off the pillar, his belly swaying violently with the momentum, colliding against his thighs with a soft, fleshy thwump. The first step sent a wave of exhaustion through him. His breath hitched immediately, becoming a ragged, wet gasp. Each footfall was heavy, deliberate, a monumental effort. The fabric of his pants, stretched impossibly thin across his vast thighs and sagging ass, rasped loudly. He could feel the jiggle intensify with each labored step, his entire torso quivering like disturbed jelly. He risked a glance at Rob.
Rob hadn’t moved. He was staring at the protein bar like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. His breathing was already audible – heavy, labored puffs. "C'mon, Rob," Miller wheezed, pausing beside him, leaning forward slightly, hands instinctively bracing on his knees. This caused his gut to poureth over his belt in a colossal, undulating apron, obscuring his boots entirely. "Gotta... try."
Rob looked up, his small eyes wide, innocent, and already defeated. "Sarge... I... I can't breathe just standing," he puffed, his voice thick. He took another desperate bite of the bar. "Maybe... maybe later?"
Miller knew. Later was never. He also knew Rob’s gear – his vest, his helmet – were useless relics. Rob could barely fasten his pants. Putting on body armor? An impossible fantasy. He watched as others began a painful, slow shuffle. Davies was already staggering, leaning against a wall after three steps, his face purple. Across the gym, a medic was helping a soldier who’d simply crumpled to the floor, gasping like a landed fish.
"Waddlers! Get moving!" Travis yelled, his voice like a whip crack. Miller flinched again. Waddlers. The word stung, accurate and brutal. He forced himself forward, each step a battle against gravity and his own suffocating bulk. The jiggling was constant now, a visible torrent of flesh surging back and forth with every movement. Sweat stung his eyes, soaked his collar, turned the fabric clinging to his massive back into a dark, damp pallet. He made it ten meters – barely a quarter of one lap – before his vision began to tunnel. His chest felt crushed. He stopped, leaning heavily, his belly slamming against his thighs, the air forced out of him in a wet gasp. He watched Travis’s expression shift from zealotry to something closer to horrified realization as he surveyed the gasping, sweat-soaked, immobilized parade of obesity littering his gym floor.
Miller found Rob near the exit doors, slumped against the wall, the empty protein bar wrapper clutched in his hand. He was eating a donut now, procured from god-knows-where, crumbs dusting his monumental chest. His breathing was a desperate, rhythmic hiss. "Told ya, Sarge," he mumbled around a mouthful, his voice devoid of its usual cheer, flat with exhaustion and the simple, crushing reality. "Told ya I couldn't." He took another huge bite, his eyes fixed on nothing, already retreating into the familiar, numbing embrace of sugar and fat. Miller leaned beside him, the vast, hot expanse of his own belly pressing against Rob’s equally immense side. The simple act of breathing was work. The gym noise faded into a dull roar. They were trapped. Utterly, completely trapped by their own flesh, by the relentless gnaw of hunger, by a system that had let them balloon into these grotesque parodies of soldiers. The new regime wasn’t salvation; it was just another cruel mirror reflecting the inescapable cage they inhabited. Miller closed his eyes, feeling the sweat trickle down the deep canyons of his back, listening to the symphony of strained breaths and the soft, ceaseless jiggle of hundreds of pounds of defeated flesh. The cycle continued. The buffet line awaited.
I'm in the final stages of editing The XXL Factor, my latest full-length gainer novel. While you're waiting, why not try one of the other full length titles I have available?
GREED IS GOOD is the story of a man who seeks to get ahead in the world of finance by engaging the services of a workplace psychologist whose unorthodox methods to alter his competitiveness have a huge impact on his size and his success.
THE HOTEL INSPECTOR tells the story of Owen: dumped by his girlfriend and suddenly out of work who unexpectedly gets a job offer to inspect luxury hotels. By aiming to do a thorough job, he not only discovers the delights of buffet dining, but also a side to himself that he has surpassed for too long.
In YOU CHEAT YOU EAT, an office lover boy gets his just desserts when his cheating ways are discovered by his lover and his husband, who work together to ruin him in the way only they know how.
PAUNCHSTAR tells the story Ivan, a hot Bulgarian porn-star who is given an opportunity to star in something a bit more niche, but for more money that he could ever have imagined earning. All he has to do is eat and grow. He imagines he'll keep it under control and just do it for one year, but his latent sexuality, as well as many admirers, step in, and things get out of control.
The XXL Factor, which will be released in February, is the story of Danny Walker, TV talent competition winner who finds that his win is not the dream ticket he had thought it was. When extensive pressures on his diet and fitness cause him to rebel, he discovers delight in indulgence and the liberation of living your best life.
All of these are full-length gainer novels, upwards of 80,000 words (some other gainer fiction available on Kindle comes in as low as 3000 words!) so I believe they represent excellent value as well as realistic gainer journeys and deeply erotic moments throughout.
Follow Sebastian Faust and explore their bibliography from Amazon's Sebastian Faust Author Page.
Fabius finished top of the class in his centurion training, his fit physique is the very model of what a good Roman soldier should be.
After training he was assigned to be the body guard of the Legionis. After a few months of not having to do much fighting, eating extravagantly in the palace and multiple jugs of wine a day, there was a notable change in his physical appearance.
To the palace guards the change was gradual and went unnoticed but to his friends Gaius and Marcus who had just come back from the campaigns in the north, the change was very noticeable. They took great pleasure in teasing their friend about his soft life and how well he adapted to it, their own abs clearly visible through their armour. Gaius grabbed Fabius' soft, pale belly trying to see if there was anything left of his once clearly visible abs with Marcus laughing as he poked and prodded his friends gut.
Jimmy's jaw dropped when the new boss walked into the office. Even with his shirt, tie and dress pants on, he still recognized the big, fat chub straight away. What a night they had had together a few months ago, meeting up at the older man’s place: the unveiling of that enormous, wide, soft butt and the way he’d let Jimmy play with his giant belly and tits! Even now, the memory of it was getting Jimmy hard.
“I hear I’m joining a very dynamic team,” Stuart announced to the gathering he had assembled. “I’m sure we’re all going to get along great. I expect a professional attitude at all times, and that’s all you’ll ever get out of me,” he promised, sounding strangely like a politician. His eyes caught on Jimmy’s, although it was clear that the recognition wasn’t quite there. Oh, how massive his gut looked in that tent-like white shirt! His rear, a masterpiece of blubber! What had his profile said he’d weighed? 450lbs? It certainly wasn’t a pound less. Why the hell hadn’t Jimmy organised another sexy night with this beautiful, lardy beast?
Jimmy settled back to his desk, the mood of the office tense as no-one quite knew what to expect from the new guy strolling about and talking to them all. By Thursday, it was clear that Stuart wasn’t about to acknowledge his and Jimmy’s previous encounter and that, if anything, he’d actively been avoiding him until he couldn’t any longer.
“Alone at last!” Stuart teased playfully as he closed the door to his office, inviting Jimmy to sit and chat through his career goals, like he had done everyone else. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d remembered me,” Jimmy answered honestly.
“I never forget a chaser,” Stuart answered with a chuckle. “And you were quite the admirer, as I recall!” he smirked, falling down heavily into his large chair behind his great desk. “The way you played with my big belly…” he swooned. “It was fucking hot!”
Jimmy felt his face getting warm. This wasn’t the professional talk he had expected upon his arrival. This was something much better, and he grinned from ear to ear to show Stuart just that.
“From what I’ve been told, you’re a bit of a coaster,” Stuart continued, sitting back without any intention of making any notes from this meeting. “You do what you’re asked and no more. No innovative ideas, no ambitions. You take home your paycheck and everyone’s happy?”
Jimmy considered this assessment of himself and shrugged. “I guess that’s about right,” he admitted, trying to hold back dirty images of him climbing onto Stuart’s lap and dropping his petit ass down onto the guy’s little, buried dick.
“Usually, I try to work guys like you hard, bring them around and get a bit more out of them,” the big boss admitted. “But, what can I say? I’m a sucker for a chaser!” he grinned. “I’ll make sure you have an easy ride with me in charge.”
“I do love a good ride!” Jimmy smiled flirtatiously back, letting his eyes drop down to Stuart's large gut and into his lap. Within two minutes, the office door was locked and Jimmy found himself bent over the desk, letting giant Stuart push his little dick all the way inside him. How fucking sexy was it to do it right here, in the office, like this?
“That was just like how I remembered it!” Stuart chuckled afterwards, tucking his shirt back in and strapping his belt up once more.
“Really?” Jimmy asked with a cheeky smirk. “That was even better for me!” he grinned, still swooning at the enormous older man he had just let finish inside him.
Stuart laughed and patted Jimmy on his slim, toned butt. “You’re such a fucking chaser!” he teased. “Drop and bounce a heavy belly on their back when they’re getting fucked and you all instantly start climaxing!” He kissed Jimmy on the mouth, lingering for some time as Jimmy let his hands explore his boss’ monstrous size. “I’ll let my new assistant know that you’re not to be hassled about the Owens account,” he stated; his final offering of the day.
“How come you made Matt your new assistant?” Jimmy asked, having been grumbling about the choice since it was announced yesterday. “He’s been bossing us all around like crazy this morning.”
Stuart only chuckled. “I have my reasons!” he nodded. “Matt is very ambitious and dedicated.”
“And don’t we all know it!” Jimmy sighed.
“He has quite the crush on you, y’know!” Stuart added playfully. “I spotted it straight away. You should see the way he looks over at your desk.”
Jimmy shook his head in disapproval. He had to admit that he’d picked up on the vibes from Matt in the past, given that they’d both started straight from college a couple of years ago. But Matt was far too serious, slim and sober for Jimmy to consider paying any sort of attention to. Jimmy was young, pretty and enjoying himself too much to date anyone so serious all the damn time.
“I’m sure you’ll feel differently in a few months’ time,” Stuart teased. “I’ve already started working my magic on him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimmy asked back, surprised by the kinky tone in his boss’ voice.
“It means, poor little Matt may be getting a bit more than he bargained for by accepting this promotion!” Then he tapped his large stomach, leaving Jimmy in no doubt as to his meaning. He’d remembered seeing it on Stuart’s profile, months ago. The guy wasn’t just into chasers and having his fat body worshipped. He was also into other stuff too: feeding and fattening guys up for his own pleasure. Now that Jimmy thought about it, that had been the reason why he hadn’t rushed back for another session with him last time. At the end of their date, Stuart had laid a hand on Jimmy’s flat stomach and offered to ‘fix it’ for him. He’d almost made it sound sexy.
“It’ll never work,” Jimmy scoffed. “He plays squash three times a week.”
Stuart merely patted Jimmy on his tight rear, nudging him out of his office. “Just sit back and watch,” he winked.
“What is up with that guy today?” complained Sally a few weeks later, flushed after a frustrating run-in with Matt about a project she was running. “Yesterday my report was fine, now I’ve got to spend the afternoon fixing loads of apparent ‘issues!’” she complained.
“At least he’s out this afternoon,” nodded Wendy in full agreement. “They’re going for lunch with a client.”
“Again?” Sally shot back. “That’s the third time this week!”
“Whilst we mere mortals must make do with a simple sandwich…” Wendy joked, lifting a meagre, foil-wrapped delight from home.
Jimmy tried to stay out of the conversation. The lack of pressure on him around here had not gone unnoticed and, Sally in particular, was never one to hold back in pointing that out. He knew that she blamed Matt’s crush on him for why he was getting such an easy ride. In reality, Sally should have been looking a little higher up the food chain.
Stuart moaned loudly as he came a couple of weeks later, buried inside Jimmy’s tiny butt. He grunted, wiping his brow as he pulled back, sighing with relief. “Thanks!” he sighed . “I really needed that.”
Jimmy smiled back, turning onto his back and snuggling into the big, fat man in his bed. “That was amazing!” he cooed, knowing that he had been far too excitable and unable to hold back. He’d climaxed long before Stuart had even got into a decent rhythm. “Just what you needed after a stressful week.”
“Stressful?” Stuart asked, chuckling. “Nah, this job isn’t stressful. I have my little assistant to do everything.”
Jimmy nodded, rubbing the large man’s belly. “I think Matt’s been doing a lot of your dirty work recently. He’s pissed off a lot of people. Everyone is always very relieved to see him going out for all these lunch meetings you have.”
Again, Stuart chuckled. “Why do you think I was in such need for a bit of fun tonight? All these dinner dates with Matt are such a turn on!”
“You’re into Matt?” Jimmy asked, more than a little surprised.
Stuart shrugged. “He’s a good looking guy, but no… I’m more into what’s happening to him. The new belly he’s getting.”
Jimmy sat up. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “I haven’t noticed anything.”
Stuart raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Then you’re fucking blind!” he hooted. “The lunch meetings, admin, syrupy coffees and doughnuts are all piling on him like crazy. It’s so fucking hot to see!”
“And this is all you're doing?” Jimmy asked, surprised at the genuine joy on his boss’ face.
“Of course! I can’t resist popping out a little gut on the impressionable ones like him. In fact, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed it all on him yet! You’re a chubby chaser, right? Fresh love handles on a guy are supposed to be your area of expertise!”
“Mostly I just try to stay out of his way,” Jimmy replied, settling back down to nuzzle into the big man, confused at how all this was making him feel.
“Well, take a good look tomorrow morning,” Stuart sighed with satisfaction, rubbing his own large stomach with appreciation. “A real chaser like you will love it. Your dick is going to be as hard as a rock! Little Matty is soon to be a fatty!”
The next morning, Matt was already in Stuart’s office when Jimmy arrived. He could see them both through the open door, sipping on their morning coffees; an open box of doughnuts sitting on the table. Was Stuart pushing calories on him already? It had barely turned 9am.
Still the men were in there at 10am, more creamy coffees arriving by delivery. Was this what had been happening every morning? He checked the calendar: another lunch meeting at one. Stuart really was going for it. Then the moment finally arrived when Matt emerged. Stuart had been right to be surprised that Jimmy hadn’t noticed the gains. Now that he was looking, the shift was undeniable. Poor Matt’s pants looked as if they were pinching him uncomfortably around the hips: new, fresh love handles beginning to bloom at his sides. When he turned, a clear paunchy shape was emerging in Matt’s stomach, a surprising, new beefiness to his chest. Then there was his butt, straining against the material of his black work pants; its added heft and a definitive plushness. “Good morning, Jimmy,” the oblivious guy smiled at him, pleased to make eye contact for the first time in a while.
Caught by surprise, Jimmy managed little more than a murmur in reply. What was the right thing to do in this situation? He recognised that Matt should know what their secretly kinky boss was up to, but that would put all of them in such a difficult position. There was also that sinking feeling as Jimmy realised that Stuart had been absolutely right about one thing: for the first time in his life, Jimmy was getting aroused by Matt.
Jimmy thought he had been discreet in looking across, yet there, with his arms folded over his massive chest, was Stuart, smirking with glee at him. He raised a cheeky eyebrow and Jimmy knew, right then, that his services would be required again that evening.
Now that Jimmy had noticed Matt’s gains, he suddenly realised how much it was the subject of the ongoing office gossiping. No longer one of them, jokes were being made at the middle manager’s expense. Comments on the poor fit of his clothes were a daily occurrence, along with remarks about the extraordinary expansion of his softening rear, so altered from the slender, tight glutes they had been only a few months earlier. People who weren’t even slim themselves were joining in, taking clear enjoyment from watching a spiraling weight gain beginning to take the jumped-up, young jobsworth who had done nothing but criticise since his promotion.
Within a couple more weeks, a fullness began to appear in Matt’s cheeks. A slight double chin was building underneath his always impeccably well shaved jawline, softening his overall appearance considerably. There seemed to be a moment when Jimmy’s little paunch suddenly transformed into something more; was it the way it widened slightly? Was it the slight overhang over his belt? Jimmy couldn’t put his finger on it. All he knew was that boring, slender Matt now had an actual, undeniable gut on him.
“Stuart tells me you’ve been working hard on the Leesman account?” Matt asked, daring to venture closer to Jimmy’s desk than he did usually.
Jimmy nodded, hardly knowing where to look as the new chub was at such close proximity. It was obvious that Matt wasn’t unaware of his weight gain; his new shirts and pants, although tight, were at least a respectable size. Yet, the guy’s posture hid nothing, leaning against the wall and throwing his hips out in a way that only emphasised the tremendous swelling in his middle. He did the same when he visited Sally’s desk, his back to Jimmy now and the new, wider, underexercised glutes on show for all to see. Was it surprising that Jimmy suddenly became so fascinated by that fattened shape? Was he wrong for enjoying listening to Stuart’s horny rants about how effectively, quietly and stealthily he was fattening the younger man up? All of a sudden, work seemed to be the most erotic place on earth.
Stuart sighed with delight as Jimmy crawled out from under his desk, having worked quite diligently in his crotch for the last five minutes or so. He’d taken Stuart’s cue when he’d returned from a lunch meeting, locked the office door behind him and set to work. “Amazing, as usual!” Stuart grinned, pulling the zipper on his pants back up. “I was just getting so fucking horny seeing the way Matt overeats now, I just knew I needed some chaser’s mouth over my dick.”
“Always happy to help!” Jimmy smiled back, knowing it was his turn next. He stood next to Stuart who remained in his chair. The rotund man reached a hand to hold him close around the hips and placed his other hand on Jimmy’s pathetically hard erection. This never took long. Rather than becoming bored with these casual encounters, Jimmy felt like he had become infatuated with the man. He’d tried hard to suppress his enjoyment of watching his boss gleefully fatten up Matt, yet Stuart always managed to draw it out of him. It all felt so naughty and kinky; the eventual orgasm he had each time he admitted to Stuart that Matt’s fattening was turning him on; it was all so intense and powerful!
“The next stage is when his tits will properly come in,” Stuart stated, knowing exactly what to say to get Jimmy off quickly. “They’re already pretty soft, but you wait until you see them in a couple of months!”
Jimmy moaned. He loved imagining that. The changes. The metamorphosis.
“He hasn’t exercised in months, given how many hours he’s putting in each evening, trying to get ahead. Can you imagine how much he’d sweat trying to get his big, lazy butt around a squash court now?” Stuart asked, chuckling at the idea himself.
Fuck! There it was. Less than a minute and he’d climaxed over the floor of Stuart’s office. The big man patted him on the butt, always delighted with how simple it was to get the chaser off, then kissed him sweetly.
“You know, you could help me if you wanted..?” Stuart offered, his mind cleared of the horny fog and sharply calculating a new approach. “His double chin is coming on so rapidly now, he’s bound to look at himself in the mirror and start thinking about dieting. Now, that wouldn’t stop what’s happening to him, but it would certainly slow things down…”
Jimmy nodded. He could well believe that Stuart had the ability to throw temptation in Matt’s way, or provide quietly calorific foods that would make any diet he was on completely ineffective.
“What a fatty needs at this time is an ego boost,” Stuart continued, cupping Jimmy’s tight butt and pulling him in closer, just like he always did when he was trying to convince him to do something more adventurous with him. “You’re well aware that he has a crush on you. How great would it be for him if the cute little twink he’s fantasised about for almost three years actually started to pay him some attention?”
Jimmy hesitated to answer.
“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t enjoy it. The evidence is right there all over my floor,” Suart teased him. “You’d make a mighty fine feeder’s assistant.”
“He’s not really my type…” Jimmy tried to mumble, despite knowing that Matt was now far enough away from that old, skinny frame that he had previously disliked so much.
“Oh, I know he’s not fat enough for you,” Stuart laughed. “But he could be one day, with someone else nudging him in the right direction…” He brought his mouth closer to Jimmy’s and kissed him sweetly, knowing exactly the right moves to pull in order to seduce him. “You do want to see me put those tits on him, right?” he whispered, his voice laced with temptation. “Give him that nice, soft, wide butt we talked about?”
Just as Stuart had wanted, Jimmy felt completely incapable of refusing.
It hadn’t been intentional when it happened. A few days had passed when Jimmy had been trying not to stare at the beautiful, new, thick shape to Matt’s glutes. They pressed with such determination against the material of his work pants and it was obvious, judging by how forcefully his love handles were draping over the waistband, that the new pants were now far too small to contain his ever increasing blubber. It happened in an instant. Matt turned suddenly, looking straight in Jimmy’s direction and, unable to conceal his staring, Jimmy looked down, immediately embarrassed and obviously guilty.
“Do you need any help with the new software?” Matt asked, keen for any opportunity to come over and chat.
Up close, the new fat in Matt’s face was utterly adorable. His enlarged body had such presence and the strain of a tortured shirt button was only just concealed by a tie that draped down his fattened torso. By three o’clock in the afternoon, he always developed this natural, alluring musk; the scent of which was now reaching Jimmy’s nostrils.
“No, I should be okay,” Jimmy shot back, still embarrassed from being caught checking him out.
“Do you not like me or something?” Matt asked bluntly; taking advantage of the fact that the other people who worked near Jimmy had left their desks. “Every time I come over you just seem to try and get rid of me as fast as possible.”
Jimmy flushed with even greater embarrassment. “No! It’s not that at all,” he countered. “The opposite, in fact!”
From the moment the words left his mouth, Jimmy knew he had let his nerves get the better of him. What the hell had he just admitted to?
“The opposite?” Matt asked, stunned. “You mean, you’re…”
“Forget it!” Jimmy replied, wanting this whole situation to be over. “It’s not appropriate in the work place.”
Now Matt really was grinning happily. “Jimmy?” he asked confidently. “Would you like to go for a drink with me sometime?”
Stuart had been delighted the next time he saw Jimmy. Of course Matt had gone straight to HR to declare that he had asked one of the more junior staff out on a date. The guy had never met a company protocol he hadn’t liked. “Just be sure to keep complimenting his appearance,” Stuart advised him. “And if you can get him over-eating on your date, that’s even better.”
Everything had happened so quickly, Jimmy no longer felt sure what he had actually agreed to. Matt turned up on their date looking smart, in an obviously newly purchased shirt that actually concealed most of the arch of his bulbous stomach. He was clearly the romantic type, proud to be seen alongside Jimmy and listening well to everything he had to say.
“You’re so quiet at work,” Matt smiled, scraping the last of the cream from his dessert bowl. “I never really felt like I knew all that much about you, until this evening.”
Jimmy smiled back. He hadn’t expected to enjoy Matt’s company so much, yet the way the guy had just inhaled his dessert had been more than a little distracting. Matt ate exactly in the way Stuart had described: quickly, greedily and without any apparent self-awareness. “Do you want the rest of this?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the hefty slice of cheesecake and generous portion of ice cream left on his plate. “I’ve never had much of a sweet tooth.”
Matt’s greedy eyes looked downwards and, whether the man was aware of it or not, he licked his lips hungrily. He politely tried to refuse, but within thirty seconds, Jimmy’s full plate was being lifted up and exchanged for Matt’s emptied one.
Matt made to hold Jimmy’s hand as they strolled out of the restaurant. Jimmy felt elated by the touch: those typically warm, clammy hands of a real chub. “I had a great time this evening,” Matt smiled at him just as Jimmy’s cab arrived to take him home.
“Me too,” nodded Jimmy, unable to hold back a smile. “We should do this again sometime.”
Emboldened, Matt stepped forwards and kissed him sweetly on the lips: short and tender. On the way home, Jimmy’s head was spinning. Here he was, going home alone after a first date and yet feeling as if the night couldn’t have gone any better. Was he genuinely falling for boring old Matt?
“Well done!” chirped Stuart that next Monday morning. “I hear that you were utterly adorable and sweet on your date on Saturday? Fat boy hasn’t stopped going on about it!” he quietly nodded back towards Matt, still working away in his own office, blissfully unaware that they were discussing him.
“You guys talk about stuff like that?” Jimmy asked, unsure whether he liked his love life being a topic of conversation between the higher-ups at the company..
“Of course!” Stuart laughed. “Excellent move with the dessert by the way!” he nodded proudly. “Judging by how well he ate those doughnuts this morning, relationship gains are gonna hit him hard!”
“Relationship?” Jimmy asked, completely flustered.
“Well, not yet, obviously,” Stuart agreed. “But, in time, this is all going to work to our advantage. His weight will just spiral completely out of his control.”
Jimmy didn’t return his boss’ grin, feeling a pit of guilt in his stomach. He’d genuinely liked Matt, yet Stuart had been completely right: there was nothing in the world Jimmy wanted to see more than Matt’s weight surpassing even his wildest expectations. How much of a bad person did that make him? It certainly didn’t make him a good one.
Jimmy had been coy about a second date and, although it was clear that Matt was keen to get something in his diary, Jimmy made up excuses to delay things. He’d never been in this situation before, having someone nice actually wanting to take him out and romance him for more than just sex. But, on the other hand, Jimmy loved the chubs he casually played with. Was he ready to give that up to be with someone properly?
“I always assumed you weren’t into me,” Matt declared, kissing Jimmy in the back of a gay bar they’d gone to after a second dinner out together. Several handsome guys had gazed hungrily over in Jimmy’s direction, wondering curiously what a handsome twink like him was doing with such a pot-bellied guy.
“I didn’t used to be,” Jimmy replied honestly.
“Oh yeah?” Matt asked, grinning from ear to ear as he held the pretty boy’s slim hips in his hands. “What changed?”
Jimmy felt embarrassed again. He’d never been shy about telling chubs how much he liked their bodies before. Yet, this felt different. “I just prefer the more rugged look you’ve got going on now,” he finally offered, pinching Matt’s shoulders as if to pretend that the man had been getting stronger over the last few months, instead of irredeemably fatter.
“Seriously?” Matt asked, as keen as a puppy. “I wouldn’t really call it ‘rugged’,” he replied candidly. “It’s more that I’ve just reached that time in life when it’s super easy to pile on the pounds without even realising it.”
“Well, whatever it is…” Jimmy smiled back, moving his hands to cup Matt’s wide butt for the first time. “...It’s definitely working for you!”
Overwhelmed with delight, Matt kissed him passionately in the back of that bar; their hands finally free to roam where they liked.
“You’re a genius!” Stuart chuckled, leaning back in his chair, unbuckling his pants and pulling the material wide so that Jimmy would be able to wrap his lips over his shaft. “You wouldn’t believe how much I just watched Matt eat after you told him that you like him fat.”
“I didn’t say it like that,” Jimmy replied, getting down on his knees despite disapproving of the fact that the two men had been discussing him again.
Stuart reached out a hand and held Jimmy’s porcelaine face, admiring it with pride. “Well, whatever it was you said, it’s fucking working. He’s eating like an absolute pig!”
Jimmy knew that it must have been no exaggeration, for, in almost no time at all Stuart was unloading straight into his mouth.
“I’m starting to think that you could actually get him even bigger than me,” Stuart declared as he took Jimmy’s erection into his hand afterwards, still sitting in his chair and wrapping his other arm around Jimmy’s hip. “He’s just got this quality about him; this natural greed! He’s already at least a hundred and thirty pounds up. We could take him seriously far!”
Jimmy couldn’t deny how much the idea turned him on. In his mind, he envisioned the 300lb Matt ballooning to beyond even Stuart’s size, soon finding he was shooting violently across the floor.
“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Stuart chuckled afterwards, once all the mess was cleaned up and the pair looked respectable enough to return to their day. “Being a feeder is the best thing in the world.”
Jimmy didn’t need to respond. Stuart knew what he was even better than he knew himself. He’d passed some invisible threshold into a land he could never return from. Jimmy wasn’t just a simple chaser anymore.
“I was thinking…” Matt mused at the end of their fourth date. “Maybe you would like to come back to my place afterwards?”
Jimmy smiled with embarrassment and nodded. Whilst he’d enjoyed their dates, he’d never felt so attracted to someone like this in his life. Even in the short couple of months since their first date, he’d witnessed Matt packing on at least another 20lbs. More, according to Stuart’s estimates. “I’d like that,” he nodded, feeling like he needed to downplay his overwhelming arousal.
Upon reaching Matt’s place, the pair settled into a kissing marathon on the couch. With no prying eyes on him, Matt’s hands traveled more cheekily over Jimmy’s slender body and he moaned loudly with horny appreciation to have the twink at long last. When he disappeared off to the bathroom, Jimmy got up to take a look around. Although it had undoubtedly been nice when Matt moved in, the place now had all the hallmarks of a typical lazy chub’s apartment: piles of papers and unsorted items on table tops, a refrigerator full of beers and snacks, empty pizza boxes filed away next to the trash. ‘Is this all he eats?’ Jimmy asked himself, chuckling as he opened the cupboard to see all the boxes of cookies, bags of potato chips and packages of doughnuts.
“Are you ready?” Matt called, stepping out from the bathroom, completely naked.
Jimmy hadn’t expected Matt to undress himself in there, and the sight was almost overwhelming. Matt grinned with an undeserved confidence: his very average-sized dick standing to attention like it anticipated Jimmy to be filled with awe for it. In fact, it was almost laughable that Matt still expected his naked form to inspire such arousal. Didn’t he see the tits on himself? The depth of his belly button? His arching stomach and the little pouch of fat that was beginning its attack on his shaft; gradually engulfing it alongside the flabby inner thighs. It was as if every bit of junk food in Matt’s cupboards had been pumped and pasted onto his previously thin body. The way his love handles rippled as the man strutted over to him was almost too much to bear. Within moments, the fat man was undressing him hungrily, pulling Jimmy’s hands onto his wide, unconditioned rear like he had no understanding of how disgutingly out of shape he had become.
When Matt finally pulled out Jimmy’s dick, he moaned with surprise and lust. He hadn’t expected Jimmy to be so much bigger than himself, hungrily dropping to his knees to suck it. Although Jimmy sighed with pleasure, Matt’s lack of experience with sucking guys off was clear, lacking all tenderness; his mouth bouncing up and down with a speed that only highlighted how insanely horny he was himself.
Back in the bedroom, Matt’s clear fixation with Jimmy’s butt was only going to lead to one thing. Jimmy spun around, pushing his tight ass out and angling it in a way that had always assisted these chubs to get themselves in. In no time at all, Matt’s skin had become clammy, burning more calories than it had in months as it thrusted in and out. The moans and the heavy breathing was all making Jimmy so hard and he actually came from the slightest touch of Matt’s hand stimulating him at the same time. When Matt finished himself, mere seconds afterwards, he pulled himself out and lay back in the bed victoriously. He smirked as if he thoroughly expected Jimmy to tell him he was the greatest lover he had ever had: that no one had ever made him orgasm in the way Matt just had. It was all so adorable and cute; like this chub was more innocent and naive than any of the others Jimmy had enjoyed in the past. He soon snuggled up to him and fell blissfully asleep.
Matt was utterly smitten. Although Jimmy had made it clear that he wasn’t ready to be an item, the doughy man still occasionally gazed across the office at him with a sickly grin of adoration. In the month that followed, Matt’s jawline seemed to further melt away, his bulbous stomach gathering greater mass. “You wouldn’t believe what a little sex can do to a chub’s appetite!” Stuart chuckled, like their plan was working out perfectly. “I feel like I’ve created a monster!”
Jimmy quietly sucked away in the boss’ crotch, always horny to hear the changes the feeder had noticed. He had such a way of describing Matt’s ever swelling body and the gradual changes towards greater obesity.
“He knows you're a chaser,” Stuart stated next. “We went out for beers after a late meeting one night and I got him a little drunk. He says you kiss his belly all the time when you’re having sex.”
Jimmy stopped sucking and looked up anxiously. It didn’t matter that the guys were talking about him again. A sudden panic filled him. Had he fucked up? He couldn’t help but want to worship Matt’s swelling ball of fat whenever he got the chance to see it. But had he forgotten all subtlety?
“Relax!” Stuart cooed down to him. “This is what we want. He’s hardly going to rein in his appetite when he knows the twink he’s been infatuated with for years is into his new size.” He held his hand atop of Jimmy’s head, staring reassuringly into his eyes. “You’re doing well,” he smiled proudly. “You kiss that big, fat belly of his as much as you want, okay?”
Jimmy nodded, then felt his head being swiftly guided back onto Stuart’s dick as the big man leaned back further and moaned in pleasure.
It was obvious how much Matt wanted to pin Jimmy down into a relationship. He discussed wanting Jimmy to meet his family, take romantic weekends away and do all those generic things, like some basic straight couple, taking selfies together in the colours of Fall. Armed with the belief that Jimmy was a chaser, he seemed to unleash, and almost revel in, his own appetite. He had a taste for beer and a preference for any food which lacked any sort of nutritional value. Even in the short few weeks they had been sleeping together, it was obvious how much softer Matt was getting: great love handles draping over his pants. Large, puffy arms fitting awkwardly into t-shirts, and creases of back fat becoming ever more extreme.
“I do want to be with you,” Jimmy explained, lying contentedly in bed next to the easily 350lb glutton Matt had transformed into. “It’s just…”
“There’s someone else,” Matt sighed, always knowing that Jimmy had been hung up on another man.
“But, you’re the one I want,” Jimmy smiled, more sure of this now than ever before. “Things with this other guy are just… messy,” he sighed.
As he said it, Jimmy understood how deeply entangled he felt in the whole situation. Stuart was his boss and, more than that, he’d been on this crusade with Jimmy to ensure Matt had swollen to the size he was today. Stuart wasn’t to know that Jimmy’s feelings for Matt were real. In fact, Jimmy could imagine the skeptical look on the guy’s face if he ever tried to explain that to him: “Chasers like you only ever care about the blubber!” Stuart had told him over and over. “You’ll always be looking out for the next fatty who can’t tie his own shoelaces,” he chuckled, patting Jimmy on the back like it was the thing he loved about him most of all. “That’s just the way you are!” His meaning was clear: Guys like Jimmy weren’t built for relationships. Understanding that was key. No happiness would ever be found in denying himself access to every chub who took his fancy.
With the work day over and most folks disappearing, Jimmy made his way to Stuart’s office and closed the door.
“Hello, my kinky little chaser!” the big man beamed, knowing that there was usually only one reason why Jimmy came in at this time. He cleared space on his desk presumptively and rolled his chair back, patting the extremely limited space on his knee for little Jimmy to sit himself down. “What can I do for you?”
Jimmy took a chair to the side instead, letting Stuart know immediately that this would not be like normal.
“Oh, let me guess!” Stuart huffed. “Matt’s got to you, hasn’t he?”
“I owe it to him to see if we can make it work,” Jimmy nodded. His eyes were fixated by the tremendous fat oozing under the man’s arms from his chest and back fat. It was all so damn sexy. He’d have to wait months, or even years to develop anything like that on Matt; if, indeed, he ever could.
Rolling towards him, Stuart took Jimmy’s delicate hand and pulled him up until he’d got him sitting on his knee, just as he’d first wanted. With Jimmy’s hands draped over his shoulders, he kissed him sweetly. “Well, I guess there’s no talking you out of that,” he sighed, kissing Jimmy more deeply and unbuttoning his own shirt to let the great lard out, as if to show Jimmy what he would be missing out on.
Jimmy was such a sucker for it all. This was perhaps the quality that he found most alluring about Stuart. Not only was he the boss, but he exuded authority in everything he did. He knew what he wanted and he didn’t overthink how he went about things in order to get it.
“One last time?” Stuart asked after it was clear that he had successfully wound Jimmy up into kissing him deeply back, rubbing his hands all over the giant belly of lard.
Jimmy nodded, standing up and letting the fat man unbuckle his pants for him, rolling down his underwear and spinning him around to get a look at the tight little ass he had fucked more time than he could count. With a horny slap across the cheeks, Jimmy knew to fall over the desk and spread his legs. An appreciative groan sounded from the sitting man behind him; his thick, sausage-like fingers tracing over the hole he was about to penetrate. With a miniscule bottle of lubricant always to hand, Stuart massaged it in, taking more time than usual to enjoy the view. Then, standing up, he unbuckled his own pants and attempted to insert himself. As always, Jimmy assisted, knowing that Stuart’s giant belly always prevented him from doing this smoothly. Then, once in place, the big man dropped his giant gut onto Jimmy’s small back and set to work, building up a sweat.
Despite how good this all felt, Jimmy knew this was the last time; both of them appreciating every last sensation and taking none of it for granted.
It was the light that Jimmy noticed first, as the room suddenly became much brighter. Then, he realised with horror that, not having expected any of this to occur, he hadn’t actually locked Stuart’s office door.
“Don’t come in!” the big man growled, but far too late. There in the doorway was none other than Matt himself.
Jimmy’s eyes were wide with horror. He wanted to shrink away into nothing but was pinned down by the massive weight on top of him. He moved his hands to try and hide his face, despite knowing that it was all pointless. Matt’s eyes had travelled from his sweaty, open-shirted boss, down to the little twink with his tiny butt pressed tightly into the man’s fat-swollen crotch.
“Get dressed, both of you,” Matt simply stated; his voice disguising an obvious seething beneath the surface. “I’ll see you in my office in two minutes.”
Jimmy and Stuart were silent as they got dressed again. No blame was given for the failure to lock the door. It was obvious that they had both been at fault. Jimmy followed his boss across to Matt’s office but was hastily told to wait outside whilst Matt spoke to their boss alone. Not a single raised voice was heard from within. Stuart emerged ten minutes later, unwilling to even make eye contact with Jimmy as he simply strolled back to his office and shut the door.
Now Matt gazed at Jimmy as if the spell he’d always cast over him were completely shattered. “Go home, Jimmy,” the man simply threw at him, obviously disgusted by his conduct. “And just be thankful you still have a job to come back to tomorrow.”
Jimmy didn’t try to message either of the men that night. He felt ashamed and crest-fallen. So this was why folks didn’t take their romances into the workplace. As much as he complained about it and tried to do as little as possible whilst he was there, he knew he’d be fucked without this job. What sort of a reference would he get when Matt informed HR about what he had been up to in Stuart’s office?
Stuart’s departure was announced the very next day. The big man called them into the conference room and explained that he would be wrapping things up at the end of the week, patting Matt on the back like they were still best friends and offering him his full backing to take over his role. So that had been Matt’s move? He’d kept things quiet in order to secure a promotion for himself? It hadn’t been something Jimmy would have expected from him.
Despite his best efforts, neither of the men made eye contact with him. Stuart left without ceremony that Friday and Matt began his new role the following Monday. Jimmy’s workload increased to a more expected level, and life just seemed to trudge onwards as if nothing had ever happened at all.
To say that Matt was an unpopular choice for the top position was an understatement. His manner was so uncompromising, and often dictatorial. People complained bitterly and resented the way he was going about increasing the company’s profitability. Quite unsurprisingly, they chose to make fun of his weight in a way they never had done with Stuart; calling him names behind his back and noting with amusement just how tight his shirts fitted each day. It was undeniable that the guy was putting on weight faster than ever before, with pure lard oozing into his midsection, fluffing up his arms and adding quite staggering heft to his thighs and butt.
Jimmy knew he couldn’t stay. It was all just far too difficult. He felt so guilty about how he had handled things, he didn’t even allow himself the opportunity to feel sorry for the great loss he had experienced when Matt walked away from him. His heart had broken without anyone to help him pick up the pieces.
“Jimmy! A word in my office, please!” called out Matt in his usual impatient tone.
“It sounds like he got your letter,” smiled Wendy, knowing that Jimmy had successfully picked up a new role in a company across town.
“Good luck!” whispered Ben, watching Jimmy walking towards that fearsome office.
“Shut the door,” snapped Matt the moment Jimmy was over the threshold. He was holding the resignation letter in his hand and trotted around the desk, dropping his heavy body down into Stuart’s old chair. “So, you’re off then?”
Jimmy nodded.
“Stuart gave you a reference, did he?”
Again, Jimmy nodded. He knew he was in dangerous territory. One call from Matt and this new company would withdraw that job offer in a heartbeat.
“Good,” Matt nodded. “It’s the least he could have done after messing you around like that.”
Jimmy frowned. He knew he should be pleased that Matt didn’t automatically blame everything on him, but, in reality, it had been just as much his fault as Stuart’s.
“I think this new job will be good for you,” Matt seemed to consider. “It’s about time you spread your wings and explore other options.”
Jimmy sighed. “I was very happy working here,” he answered meekly.
“Well, like you said… things got messy, didn’t they?” Matt scolded him.
Again, Jimmy nodded. He’d deserved that. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?” he asked, knowing that there would never be another opportunity.
Matt sighed. “I always knew we weren’t exclusive,” he conceded. “But it’s hard to shake the feeling that you and Stuart were both lying and playing games behind my back.”
Jimmy couldn’t deny it. That had been almost exactly what had been happening.
“But, if you’re not working here anymore, that will undoubtedly make things easier,” Matt stated.
“Easier?” Jimmy asked.
Again, Matt sighed. “I’ve discovered that I’m something of a stress-eater,” he explained, flapping his tie over his shoulder and rubbing the great expanse of his rotund gut. The buttons looked tortured and the fat in his chest had never looked so expansive. “I’ve gained thirty-five pounds in just under two and a half months.”
“I see,” Jimmy replied solemnly, trying to conceal his great preference towards the extra bulk. “And how do you feel about that?”
Matt shrugged. “It is what it is,” he answered. “I eat too much and this is the consequence. I didn’t mind it when I had you to enjoy it all,” he smirked, grabbing a wedge of his plush belly fat and jiggling.
“You know, I’d never fuck up again like that,” Jimmy stated with absolute determination to have one final chance with Matt. Perhaps, now he wasn’t going to be working here every day, things could be different. “You say the word and it’s you and me. Exclusive. Forever.”
Matt’s face dropped and he raised an eyebrow, sitting up in a much more professional manner. “This isn’t the place to discuss that,” he scolded Jimmy. Then, with a small grin on his fat-bloated face, he added. “But I’d be quite happy to talk about it over dinner tonight instead.”
Jimmy only saw his old work colleagues at the annual Christmas parties these days. Despite the company’s success under Matt’s leadership, the man never chose to linger for more than an hour or so, knowing that the party would only truly get started once he was out of their way. He looked so handsome with his wide, bulbous rear and thick love handles surpassing the width of even his gigantic back, filled with fat from his shoulder blades and even extending into his enormous, puffy arms. He’d made a beeline for the buffet table, balancing the comically small plate up against the large shelf of his stomach as he stood chatting with some of the newer, more senior hires.
Despite the nostalgic vibes Jimmy felt at seeing all his old friends, he knew that things were never going to be the same. He’d married the boss and become an outsider since he’d left the company. An hour was pretty much all he could stand of the awkward chit chat, and he was quite happy to have his husband’s large, sweaty palm take his and lead him away from the party.
“There we are,” Matt sighed in relief once they were back in the car. “I’ve shown my face. Now, let’s get some pizza and head home.”
“Pizza!” Jimmy laughed. “I’ve just watched you systematically destroying that buffet for the last hour.”
“So?” Matt chuckled back. “The company paid for that buffet. Plus, I always get pizza on a Friday night. It’s part of the reason why you love me so much,” he joked, tapping his enormous gut that burst its way forwards towards the steering wheel.
“One of many reasons,” Jimmy nodded, kissing his five hundred pound lover on the cheek. Having joined Matt’s family, it no longer surprised him how large the man had grown: the cousins, the aunts, the uncles, they were all the same: greedy and rapid expanders as soon as their metabolisms crashed in their early twenties.Although Stuart had always enjoyed feeling responsible for making Matt grow in those early days, Jimmy started to understand that perhaps the man was merely enabling a process that was already naturally underway.
“Are you sure you’re okay with leaving this early?” Matt checked one final time.
“Of course not,” Jimmy smiled, placing his hand on the only part of Matt’s thigh that wasn’t engulfed by resting stomach fat. Even after all these years, there was nowhere he’d rather be than at this man’s side. His perfect match.
