Fatman & Robin

Typically, Guy would be feeling cocky right now. He would be walking into this Halloween party with the sheer confidence unique to being a chiseled white gay guy with a six figure salary and a hunky boyfriend. Sure, he still looked hot. His muscles bulged from a fresh full-body pump at Equinox and his skin was glowing from a facial and botox. His tiny little Robin costume clung to his Adonis-like body and his bulge hung heavy between his legs with the help of a cockring. However, on the inside, Guy felt like dying.

It was only yesterday that his hunky Wallstreet boyfriend of one year had broken up with him. They were a gorgeous couple, as people loved to tell them, and represented a particularly Americana vision of wholesome homosexuality. They were to arrive in a couple’s costume: Batman and Robin. Now Guy was stranded as a sidekick without his main character. He wanted to take a xanax and stay home but his friends wouldn’t allow it. So, he took a deep breath, puffed up his chest, and entered the booming brownstone with as much resolve as he could muster.

He was immediately swarmed with friends in various stages of drunkenness and drug use. They showered him with compliments and condolences, a dizzying mix he wanted to avoid. A white claw was shoved in his hand and he was invited to a bedroom to do a line. He took a big gulp and followed along.

After a quick line and kiki he excused himself from the stuffy room. He wandered into the party, a sea of mostly fit, mostly white bodies. Sometimes he felt a pang of guilt about the company he kept, but then he looked at his bank account and he didn’t feel so bad. Besides, he always voted for Democrats which made him one of the good guys. Finding his way to the kitchen, something caught his eye, a vague reminder that his predilections were not as trite as the company he kept: a chubby guy off in the distance.

The man wore mostly black but you could easily discern his bulbous silhouette compared to everyone else’s. He scratched at his oversized belly. He had a nice overhang and rounded lovehandles. Guy guessed the man was thirty to fifty pounds overweight, maybe an ex-jock but hard to tell at this distance. The dude bent over revealing a fuzzy lower back and ass crack that was cinched in by the tightness of his pants. Guy’s cock twitched under his little green shorts.

He poured himself a shot of vodka, threw it back, and then mixed a vodka soda. He wondered who the chubby guy was. He’d find out eventually he supposed, but he had to be cautious not to expose his attraction to fat guys in front of his friends. If he was lucky he could maybe sneak out with the man, fuck him silly back home, and then finally take that xanax and forget that anything existed. Guy sighed. He took another shot, then found some friends so he didn’t look lame standing alone.

He stood in a circle with acquaintances, gabbing about their summer on Fire Island, work gossip, gym routines, and pop music. He wasn’t fully engaged but kept up the facade. Later, they danced to the new Beyonce album and then the Kim Petras Halloween album, naturally. Guy was finally feeling looser, but couldn’t shake the dread. He didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to be alone. They did shots and a few more lines.

Back on the dancefloor Guy noticed that one of his friends, Ambrose, had put on some weight. Where there was once a rippling six pack a small slab of chub bounced free in a crop top. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Guy to feel a flush of desire. He wanted to squeeze that little pooch but obviously resisted. Then his mind wandered back to the chubby man he had spotted earlier. Where could he be? Likely in the kitchen, Guy presumed, and excused himself to grab a drink.

“I’ll come with!” Matt, one of Guy’s closer friends, added.

Guy was annoyed but didn’t protest. They got to the kitchen and sure enough, there was the overfed man fucking up one of the Halloween cupcakes no one else was touching. Guy finally got to see him up close. The man wore a mask around his eyes, but the lower half of his face was enticing. A sharp jawline framed curvy red lips smudged with purple frosting and surrounded by a dense scruff. He breathed heavily as he polished off one cupcake, licked the frosting from his lips, and began to unwrap another.

He wore a simple black tee with the gold Batman logo warped by the broadness of his shoulders and the sag of his tits. The shirt was tight but fully covered him, stretching over the nice curve of his pot belly and tucked into black cargo pants. A gold utility belt cinched him in at the center, accentuating his blubbery middle. Some of the pockets and tools in the belt pressed against the soft fat of his love handles and overhang, causing plush indentations that accentuated his softness.

His legs looked stout and firm. Perhaps there was muscle underneath the excess weight, but it was hard to tell. Something about the way the man stood, with his shoulders back and his belly fat spilling forward, signaled to Guy that he was likely packing a bubble butt. Guy yearned to find out. Second to a strong beer belly, Guy was a sucker for a big fat ass he could sink his cock into. Guy licked his lips feeling a predatory desire for this man’s body roar inside of him.

“Oh my god!” Matt exclaimed. “Robin, I found your Batman!” A shit eating grin spread across Matt’s face as he grabbed the Batman by the shoulder, startling him. “Rowan, have you met Guy? Sadly, Guy is a Robin who lost his bat this evening, maybe you two should talk.”

“Oh my god,” Guy was a bit dumbfounded once he made eye contact with the Batman. “Rowan? Rowan Byrne?”

Rowan blushed, “Guy Stevens? Wow, it’s been a minute.”

“Oh you two know each other?” Matt was surprised.

“Yeah, uh we used to date,” Rowan replied awkwardly.

“Oh,” Matt looked directly at Rowan’s stomach sagging against his utility belt. “When was that?”

“Uh, last year…” Guy was still dumbfounded.

The Rowan he went out with for two months last summer was a far cry from the fat slob standing before him. He could hardly believe his eyes. The man he knew looked like an Abercrombie model. If Guy had known what the future held for Rowan, maybe he would’ve stuck around longer.

“Well,” Matt said humorously, “I’ll leave you two superheroes to it then,” and wandered off.

Guy and Rowan stared at each other in stunned silence. Guy was sure Rowan must feel bad about his appearance, and he was ready to step in and take advantage of that insecurity. Guy reached forward and softly pushed up Rowan’s mask to get a better look at him. The man was handsome as ever, with only a bit of extra chub under his chin.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Guy said in a low sultry tone.

Rowan shrugged rather sheepishly, “I know, I look uh… different.”

“You look great,” Rowan took a bold and drunken step closer to the man so that their torsos, one bulging and soft, the other hard and flat, pressed together. “How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been alright. I was promoted to chief operating officer at my company, which is great I suppose. But it’s a lot of work, a lot of stress. Certain things have… fallen to the wayside so to speak.”

Rowan scratched the back of his head affording Guy a look at this bicep. There was still some muscle there, but a good two inches of fat hung below.

“That’s great though, congratulations. And I’m sure the money helps?”

Rowan cocked his head and raised his eyebrow, “Oh it’s not too bad, but most of it seems to be going to… well, my stomach. These days at least.”

“Nothing wrong with indulging,” Guy grinned. “Speaking of, wanna head to the bathroom? I have blow.”

The Batman and Robin waded through the crowd and upstairs to one of the more private bathrooms. The overhead fluorescent light was a harsh contrast to the moody party lights in the main room. Suddenly the men were lit in excruciating detail in the small room. Rowan’s brow was beaded with sweat and although he hadn’t developed chubby cheeks, his face was puffy like an alcoholic’s. Up close, you could tell he was sweating through his Batman tee. Wide sweat stains expanded beneath his pits and around his chest and he was breathing heavily from the climb up the stairs.

Guy lost track of what he was doing as he took in just how plump this man had become in such a short amount of time. How had that flat navel transformed into such an outrageously thick roll of fat? Were those strong pecs still buried beneath the sagging tits? He snapped back to reality and fished the baggy from his pocket. Rowan perched one ass cheek atop the counter and leaned back, causing the whole fixture to creak. Guy was fishing the baggy from his pocket but looked up when he heard the sound. Rowan’s ass looked predictably fat mashed against the countertop sending a surge of desire through Guy’s loins. The Robin spooned a generous bump onto his keys and stepped closer to Rowan, leaning his whole body against the man’s plush thigh and overhang as he held the bump to Rowan’s nose. Rowan gasped softly from the body contact, and then sniffed up the drugs.

“It’s good, huh?”

They did a bit more as Guy leaned further against the doughboy. Rowan was soft as hell and it was causing Guy’s dick to harden.

“Why’d we stop talking?” Guy said in a low tone, hanging his head close to Rowan’s.

“I mean,” Rowan looked down, “You’re the one who ghosted me.”

Guy cocked his head and looked up as if trying to remember something. “Well, wasn’t that stupid of me?”

Guy leaned in and the men kissed. Rowan tasted like cupcakes and White Claw. Rowan tried to wrap a chunky thigh around Guy’s body, but he was a bit too thick to do so gracefully. Guy slipped a hand under Rowan’s shirt. His skin was blazing hot and slick with sweat. The piglet wasn’t built for parties like this. Guy gripped the gooey fat roll between the man’s love handle and left tit. It was even sweatier inside the fold. Guy scooted Rowan from the counter to against the door, shoving his throbbing groin against Rowan’s body.

Unexpectedly, the door gave way, swinging wide open causing the men to stumble across the hall and into a bedroom. Guy looked around with panic. The room was empty. He popped his head out into the hallway to ensure no one witnessed anything. The coast was clear. He closed the bedroom door and locked it.

He turned around to see Rowan standing in the middle of the room, breathing hard, his shirt ridden up exposing a slab of belly fat. Guy licked his lips hungrily. Chief Operating Officer looked good on him. He wondered how much bigger than man could get with a little encouragement. Guy sauntered over, gripped a succulent wad of love handle in his hand, and pulled Rowan in for a kiss. As the men made out they stumbled backwards to the bed.

Guy’s erection was nearly peeking out of his tiny shorts. He pulled them off in a swift movement, causing his hard on to thwack dramatically against his washboard abs. Rowan liked the display and struggled to undo his own pants. The utility belt was in the way and after that was removed he struggled to undo the button on his waistband. He had to suck in immensely, pulling back his chub, as Guy undid them. Finally freed from the restrictive clothing his belly rushed forward like a tsunami, wobbling into place above his untrimmed bush. Rowan used to be so well groomed and particular, but now he looked like a slob.

Guy spotted small red stretch marks circling Rowan’s navel and across the man’s fleshy inner thighs. Guy’s cock was pumping out precum at the sight of this, which Rowan, after struggling to hoist himself upright, lapped up eagerly. Rowan grunted as he swallowed down the cock, reminding Guy of a pig at the trough. He wanted to say “good piggy” but was afraid it would ruin the moment. When Rowan pulled back for air, Guy looked down at the fiendish faggot admiring the way Rowan’s belly filled his lap.

Guy pushed Rowan onto his back, reveling in the bounce of the man’s surplus flesh as he hit the mattress. He then hoisted Rowan’s legs up, impressed by the man’s flexibility despite all the extra padding in the way, and buried his face in the plush ass. Guy loved eating a fat guy’s ass. It felt like he could get lost, suffocate, lose himself forever. The only thing better was a deep and ripe overhang. He moved to that area next. Rowan could use some development in that arena. Maybe twenty or thirty more pounds for that crease to really deepen and the fat pad to fully bloom. Nevertheless, it was delicious.

Rowan was moaning and thrusting his hips. Guy recalled the man being an absolute pig bottom so he proceeded to mount the fatty. He assumed a missionary position which was always fun with a fat guy. Rowan’s rolls condensed into bulbous bubbles of gooey fat, wobbling from the force of his cock. Fat guys looked even fatter like this, almost cartoon-like. Their joints were pushed to the max, only folding as much as the blubber would allow. Rowan moaned loudly and Guy was too drunk and high to really care.

He continued to fuck Rowan for ages like this, maintaining speed only because of the cocaine. He worried he wasn’t going to be able to come due to the drugs, even though Rowan looked like he was on the brink. Eventually, Rowan rolled onto his side awkwardly and seemed to get stuck. Guy realized he was trying to get into doggy position and helped the man onto his knees.

Something about this position had Guy ready to lose his nut. Maybe it was the audible clapping of that ripe bubble butt or the way the fat rolls swayed and smacked against one another or the way Rowan’s belly hung like a heavy sack of jelly. The man simply resembled a hog, and a disgraced one at that. A former jock who succumbed to the pressures of a high powered job, who chose indulgence over the gym, who simply couldn’t help his voracious appetite.

Guy shot his load with full body convulsions, completely oblivious to the fact Rowan had already come several minutes earlier.

The two men stood up, careful to not ruin the comforter of whoever’s bed this was. Both were sweating, but Guy looked like a Greek god and Rowan looked like a prized porker. They embraced once more, the juicy excess of Rowan mashing against Guy’s hard lined form. Guy’s head felt clear for the first time all night. In fact he felt down right exuberant.

“We have to do this again. Let’s get dinner actually, maybe this Wednesday if you’re free. I’ll text you.”

Rowan smiled sweetly, “I’d like that.”

“Now, how to exit this situation,” Guy said aloud.

Guy held his ear against the door. The hallway sounded crowded. He looked around. There was a small window over the night stand that led to the fire escape. Perfect. He shoved the window open and looked over at Rowan, fat and struggling to put his batman costume back on. The window was tight even for Guy, there was no way Rowan was going to fit.

“I’m going out this way. Why don’t you exit through the front when it clears or whatever.”

“Okay…” Rowan looked at him confused.

And with that, Robin scaled the fire escape and disappeared into the night.