He started eating a bit more with each trip into the burger joint. I'd notice his order grow over time. At first it was always the same, but eventually Mike added a second trip to the counter. He'd kind of sheepishly make an excuse about how he was still starving and ask for another burger, then two. One day, I finally just added the second helpings to his first order, telling him it was on the house, saving him the second trip. He grinned ear to ear, and after that, any shyness about his orders was long gone. He'd belly up to the counter and order away. I watched him beef up a little more each month. His pecs swelled. His biceps yanked hard at the sleeve openings in his shirts. His thighs strained against his shorts. And little by little, an undeniable gut sprouted and rounded out, firm like a basketball, obviously present, no way for him to hide it any more. His bulging gut was riding high while pushing down on the waistband of his shorts. He looked incredible, and I got feverish with intensifying fantasies of stuffing him nonstop after store hours until he his gut swelled up to wedge into the booth for good. He had to be pushing 260 these days.
Then one day Mike didn't come in as scheduled. I was bummed and kept looking toward the door every time I saw it move. No sign of him. The evening fell into night, and still by 9 o'clock, no Mike. Huh, I thought. He must've skipped a day at the gym. Then, about an hour before closing, in he came.
"Hey stud. Thought you were blowing us off today."
"Nah, nah. Just got a new shift at work. Made me change my gym routine so I gotta workout later in the evening now. But MAN, am I hungry. I didn't have time to eat a fucking thing before I went to work out. I hate not being able to fuel up before a workout. I could eat a horse."
"Well lucky for you, we still have tons of food ready to offer up for you. What'll it be?"
"The usual, man, and make it fast!"
"Doesn't sound like that's going to be enough."
"Yeah, well it'll get me going. I'm too fucking hungry to think about it."
"Coming right up." I had a tray with Mike's new usual of seven burgers, four orders of fries, drinks, and two shakes ready in a flash. He grabbed the tray and practically ran off to a booth to tear into his food. Enraptured as I watched him eat, I just went ahead and loaded up a second tray, taking it to him just as Mike stuffed the last huge mouthful of his seventh burger into his mouth. With his cheeks swollen as he chewed, he looked up and kind of chuckled.
Mumbling around his mouthful, he laughed, "Man, I still could eat, but I don't know if even I could stuff down a whole second order, bud." Grunting to swallow so he could speak more clearly, "besides, I'm almost outta cash."
"Hey, that's no problem. End of the day here, these would have been trash anyway. Might as well see it go to use."
"Well shit, alright. I'll see what I can do. Appreciate it man."
Before he even finished the sentence, he was ripping open a burger wrapper. Deeply focused on eating, he didn't even seem to notice me sit down. After his third, or rather tenth burger, fries already stuffed down practically five at a time, he finally slowed. Leaning back, hands grasping the sides of his now distended gut, Mike groaned deeply and let out a hefty belch that shook the table. "Ooooooooo. Sorry man. Got kinda carried away and made a pig of myself. I feel like this gut's gonna fucking explode!"
I nearly passed out at the sight of his tee-shirt creeping up to expose his tightly fed belly, which now seemed to inflate a notch or three as he slowly exhaled. "Come on Mike. One last burger. You don't want me pitching that out do you?"
"Aw, yeah right! Nice of you to offer guy, but this pup's gonna pop if I stuff down any more. I got carried away. I was so damn hungry coming over here. The hunger pangs were rumblin' so hard it felt like my gut would cave in. I had to get some chow in this gut fast. When I get hungry like that, there's no stopping me until that rumbling quits. When I get starved like that, I can't focus on nothing but get some chow in this thing. Nothing worse than serious hunger pangs. Always have had to stop and chow whenever I got 'em, no matter what."
"Then I don't want you leaving crabby. You better eat those last few burgers for the road."
Thump thump thump as Mike swatted the tight top of his gut - the point right where his now stuffed gut launched forward from the base of his pecs. "Ooof. This thing's pretty packed. Don't think I can. I better get this monster home so I can rest it up. Thanks for the bonus chow though, man. Saved the day."
"You sure? After a late workout you have to still be hungry."
"Aw, thanks man, really. But I hit the limit here. I better take off."
No amount of coaxing was going to do it. I tried four more times to goad Mike into polishing off at least one more burger. Nothing did the trick though. I even offered to wrap a few burgers to go. If I couldn't at least see him eat until that tee shirt yanked all the way up over his bulging jock gut, I wanted to know he might be feeding it more yet later. Finally, I succeeded, and, eyes half closed, groaning deeply about how full he was as he stretched to a full stance, belly definitely jutting out more than I had even seen it before, Mike lumbered out of the place. The bag loaded with six extra burgers swung in his hand, leaving me shaking at the thought of stuffing him until morning.
The more I thought on it, the more I was obsessed with seeing the beefy jock gorge until he couldn't move, until his belly really blew up beyond belief. I had intense visions of him losing control, eating anything I brought to him, stuffing and stuffing and stuffing himself nonstop, eating as long as I brought him food, gorging as I watched his belly inflate like a swelling balloon. I had to see it. He obviously loved to eat. There just had to be a way to get him going.