Friend or Feeder

It wasn’t hard for me to clock that Charlie was a feeder. We were in the same cohort in grad school and it became obvious soon as he started dating one of our classmates. Penelope was what you would call “slim thick” when we started the program, and after only a few months with Charlie she was simply thick. I was still fairly inexperienced when it came to gaining and encouraging, but I had enough experience jacking off to the idea of fattening men up that I knew exactly what Charlie was up to.

He and Penelope were constantly going out to eat. They were always chowing down in the student union, and often brought food back to class. Yet somehow Charlie never finished his meal and half always found its way onto Penelope’s plate. Sometimes he would bring a milkshake to class made of god-knows-what and get “too full” and offer it to Penelope. For her Birthday he bought her a chocolate bouquet announcing dinner reservations. When it was “that time of the month” he lavished her in comfort treats. All the while, Charlie never gained a pound, and Penelope was getting fat.

Naturally, I was fascinated. It helped that Charlie was a good looking guy and I could easily imagine him employing his skills on me. He was friendly too and we got along well, though he was abundantly straight. Occasionally we would encounter one another at the university gym, where we both hit the weight room pretty regularly. We were about the same size: standard mid-twenties twunks.

I was trying my hardest to leave my twinkhood behind and found that putting on muscle was easier than fat, at least for my metabolism and height. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure if I was a gainer or if I was simply attracted to them. Muscle building felt like a good middle ground and incidentally was great for my mental health.

Through school and the gym Charlie and I gained a friendly dynamic. So when he and Penelope broke up I went out on a limb and asked him what happened. I had seen Penelope, a good forty pounds heavier than she was a year ago, hitting the treadmills regularly and so I had my suspicions. Charlie’s response was: “I don’t know man, she started getting annoying, but I have a new girl anyway.”

The new girl in question was an undergrad student for whom Charlie was a TA. This was fairly scandalous at the time, but Charlie never got in trouble. This girl was already pretty heavy which only further added to the drama and intrigue. For me, it cemented the fact of Charlie’s predilections. Naturally, within a few months of going out, this girl was fatter than ever. She was gaining weight even faster than Penelope did and I couldn’t help but ponder Charlie’s magic touch.

Eventually, they broke up too and then we graduated and moved on with our lives.

Five years later

I was living in Austin, Texas when I saw Charlie for the first time since grad school. I was at my local gym doing chest day. I was the beefiest I had ever been in my life and wearing an old tank top from my youth that let that fact be known. I was swole from consistent effort in the gym, and an ongoing relationship with a husky non-gainer had me sporting a good amount of relationship weight. I was loving my physique even though our relationship was worsening. My chubby boyfriend wanted both of us to lose weight and this had become a point of contention. That day in the gym was supposed to be for cardio, at least that’s what my partner told me. I was lost in my head running through a break up scenario when I heard my name.

“Mel!” I turned around and had to blink twice to register what I was seeing.

“It’s Charlie! From grad school?”

“Charlie, my god!” I said as he moved in for a sweaty hug. I could whiff his musk as my belly pressed against his hard abs.

“You’re looking,” Charlie took a step back and looked me up and down, “beefy.”

“What can I say?” I shrugged and then patted my belly. “Relationship weight.” Charlie’s eyes widened when I said this and he looked down at my belly poking forward. “What are you doing in Austin?”

“I’m here for a few months for work,” his eyes snapped back up to meet mine. “You live here?”

“I do, I do.”

“We should catch up sometime, get something to eat. You still have the same number?”

“Yessir,” I said, my heart fluttering at Charlie’s suggestion: get something to eat.

We parted ways and got back to our work outs. I finished up and before heading home I grabbed a peanut butter chunk mass gainer from the gym bar. My boyfriend would be pissed if he knew, so I chugged the entire thing on the drive home. I hated that I had to sneak around like this, especially since proudly putting on a modest belly of my own. This was the downside of dating outside of the gaining community.

About a week later I was meeting Charlie for hoagies and beer (his suggestion) and, it just so happened, I was freshly single. Needless to say, I dressed to impress. Form fitting blue jeans propped up my belly creating the illusion of a solid overhang that didn’t quite exist, yet. Up top I wore a white ribbed tank that clung to the gut and pecs with a loose short sleeve collared shirt draped over it. I met Charlie on the restaurant patio and he stood to hug me. Was that normal for straight men? I didn’t know. What wasn’t quite normal was that he grabbed my waist and, looking at my belly, said: “Look at you!”

We sat down with no further commentary on my physique, though Charlie’s eyes were wandering. We each ordered a foot long and then Charlie ordered a pitcher of beer and onion rings for the table. With anyone else this would be a normal order, but I had my suspicions about Charlie. The onion rings came first, after we were already through one glass of beer each, and I noticed I ate about three rings to every one Charlie ate. He was good at this.

We caught up on everything that had happened in our lives the past seven years. Charlie seemed to have a higher paying job than I did, but it required him to travel a lot. Consequently, he struggled with the ladies and hadn’t maintained any one relationship for more than a year. I told him about my recent breakup. He offered condolences before curiosity got the best of him.

“You mentioned relationship weight, how much did the other guy put on?”

“Oh, I don’t know Kenny was always a big guy, but probably about the same as me.”

“So what, twenty, thirty pounds?” Charlie pressed casually.

I chuckled and leaned back in my chair, “I suppose so yeah. About thirty, maybe more with muscle gains. It’s hard to say.”

“You carry it well.”

“Thanks,” my cock began to harden against my right thigh. “It’s kind of unavoidable at our age you know? It really starts to stick. Though you’re looking lean as ever.”

“Oh, yeah I suppose. You weren’t trying to put on weight then?”

“Mm,” I grinned, “I wouldn’t say that,” and popped an onion ring into my mouth as our sandwiches arrived.

Conversation pivoted as we ate, though I got the sense Charlie was watching my pace. I easily polished my plate before he did and with a little less than half left he offered up his leftovers. I politely declined before he shoved his plate closer to me and said: “You take the leftovers then.” I shrugged, and with a bit of drunken joie de vivre pounded his sandwich down with four aggressive mouthfuls and a swig of beer. Two onion rings remained which I also tossed down the hatch and then volunteered to kill the pitcher. Charlie was speechless.

I went home with a hard on and an uncomfortable bloat. I just knew that Charlie was a feeder. Perhaps it wasn’t obvious to the untrained eye, and I may have even doubted myself in grad school, but I’d been around the block enough times now to be certain of what was going on. The only question was whether Charlie ever got a little bisexual with it.

Newly single with a beginner belly, slowing metabolism, and a local feeder friend, I decided to throw myself headfirst into gaining. I ordered a case of Boost VHC, stocked my fridge with heavy cream and butter, and bought mass weight gain powder. I tracked my intake to guarantee a minimum threshold of 3,500 calories, often surpassing that amount. I embraced the spirit of a ‘dirty bulk’ and hit up fast food restaurants a few times a week. Whenever there was free food at the office I helped myself even if I was full or it looked unappealing. I kept myself in a constant caloric surplus.

I also began hanging out with Charlie on a regular basis. He was only in town for three months and I wanted to make the most of it. Every time we met up it revolved around food. We’d get brunch at a diner, he would have me over for pizza and beer, he’d bring chinese take out over to mine and watch a movie. We were getting closer than we ever had in grad school yet I still couldn’t discern if there was a romantic undertone or not. What I was certain of however, was that he was fattening me up just like he did all his girlfriends.

As I observed with Penelope all those years ago, Charlie never finished his meals. He’d push the food over to me or leave it sitting out after we finished, knowing that I’d start grazing. He also tended to order more than was necessary, sometimes claiming he had a coupon or some reason to celebrate. If add-ons were available they were selected, and if dessert was suggested he’d say “why not” and then barely touch it. Alcohol was often present as well and occasionally marijuana. This man had skills when it came to fattening someone up and I could see how an unsuspecting woman with a strong appetite might never catch on. Myself, on the other hand, I leaned into it.

Every time I left Charlie I walked away with a full gut, sometimes uncomfortably so. I was definitely gaining weight and after a month it was getting noticeable. My clothes were getting snug as my belly announced itself more than ever. I was feeling constantly weighed down with food and even a bit sluggish. I was still hitting the gym, but I needed pre-workout to get through it. The extra calories allowed me to push harder and go up on the weights. My biceps bulged but my belly bulged further.

Occasionally I’d run into Charlie at the gym, which always seemed to excite him. He’d shower me with compliments and encouragement. Sometimes he’d spot me or we’d alternate machines. After one particularly rough day, my tank top soaked through with sweat and clinging to my belly, I admitted the extra weight might be slowing me down.

“What do you mean?” Charlie shot back, a hint of worry in his voice.

“This gut,” I said through labored breathing. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

“Not… really,” he demurred as we headed to buy a protein shake.

“Come on, I’ve definitely put on a few since we started hanging out.”

Charlie looked at me oddly before ordering: “A green giant for me and, uh,” he looked over and tried not to glance at my gut, “a peanut butter chunk mass gainer for him.”

“You look the same to me,” Charlie casually lied to my face.

Part of me wished he would acknowledge my weight, maybe even tease me or goad me to keep going, but I realized that wasn’t his MO. He was a DL encourager who probably never told his girls what he was up to, let alone some guy from grad school he was hanging out with. I shrugged it off and went about my day.

Another month passed and my body was transforming before my eyes. Between my weekly hangs with Charlie, three cases of Boost VHC, and being a general pig, I was bulkier than ever. It was most noticeable in my love handles, which swelled like water balloons almost overnight. My elbows sunk into them when I sat at the computer and they were pressing against the arms of certain chairs. Their width was throwing me out of balance and I found myself bumping into objects around my house.

The experience was completely intoxicating and I could hardly keep my hands off myself. My belly was seductively plush at the navel and I relished the way I could press it against tables and countertops. My thighs were getting so thick I could barely cross them, and so I proudly manspread at every meal and gathering. I jiggled when I jerked off, and would slap and bounce my fat until I squirted across the room, fantasizing about the fat pad I prayed would grow in any day now. It was such a sensual experience that I regretted not getting fat earlier in life.

Charlie seemed as hypnotized by my curves as I was. Our orders at restaurants were getting larger, with an unspoken agreement that I would be doing most of the eating. Sometimes I’d catch him watching me as I ate, mesmerized in a manner I hoped was sexual but couldn’t entirely discern. All the while, he himself never over ate nor did he acknowledge my gluttony or swelling waistline. He dispensed vague compliments such as “looking good” or “looking swole” but nothing too scandalous. I, on the other hand, was brimming over with desire for Charlie and wanted nothing more than to strip naked and let him stuff me into oblivion. Hell, I’d even settle for a belly rub or getting called “big guy.”

Finally, I couldn’t take the tension anymore. We were eating pizza at my house, planted on the couch watching a show. A large pizza sat before us each and a six pack of beer that was nearly gone. My pizza was demolished, two meager slices remaining. Charlie had worked through half of his, an impressive amount for him, and he seemed stuffed. I groaned heartily and leaned back patting my belly.

“Fuck, I’m full.” I exhaled as the credits ran on screen.

“You’re not gonna kill it?” Charlie asked.

“Nah, I’m pretty stuffed man. You’re not gonna kill yours?”

“I figured you’d take the leftovers.”

“Ah presumptuous! What do you take me for, a fat ass?!”

Charlie clearly didn’t know how to respond and after several moments said: “No, no… that’s not it. I, um-”

“Ah come on, you can admit it.” This sentence caused Charlie to freeze. “I’m getting pretty pudgy aren’t I?” I pointed at the spare tire threatening to expose itself from my medium sized tee. “I’d say I’ve put on about fifteen pounds since we started hanging out. Wouldn’t you?”

Charlie’s mouth was slightly agape as his eyes darted between my gut and my face.

“Come on,” I said, and grabbed his wrist. “This,” I placed his hand on my belly and pushed it into the soft fat, “is all new. Since I met you…” I tried to keep from getting an erection.

Charlie was slack jawed as his hand sunk into my plush mound of belly fat. It took him a moment, but suddenly he snapped back to reality and gripped my belly with enthusiasm. I was kind of taken aback as he squeezed it tightly and shot me a devilish grin.

“You’ve gotten thick my man!” His eyes flashed with an almost lizard-like glimmer. “I like it on you too. How do you feel?” He removed his hand and leaned back. The ball was now in my court.

“Gotta say I’m digging it. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind getting larger.”

“Oh yeah? How much?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Another fifteen pounds would barely be noticeable I think. Besides, I got a good base of muscle, I can handle twenty, thirty more pounds from where I’m at currently.”

The air was thick with arousal.

“What do you think?” I shot back.

Charlie looked at me curiously, as if he was trying to figure something out. He leaned back. “Whatever’s clever man.” The tension immediately dissipated. “Say, I gotta get going,” Charlie continued and stood up. He pointed at the pizzas on the coffee table, “Sounds like you got these covered though.”

He strode decisively out the front door. I flung my head back with a massive sigh. Looking down, precum was soaking through my denim. This man was the tease of the century.

I expected to hear from Charlie in a couple days, as I normally did, but he didn’t reach out. I texted him to make plans but he left me on read for a little over a day, eventually coming back to say that he was busy. Something felt strange about his text but I couldn’t quite place it. I just had a feeling he was avoiding me. Had I gone too far and scared him away? Finally, over a week passed and he followed up to make plans.

The next time Charlie and I hung out, I was brimming over with anxiety. I feared any sort of confrontation or rejection, but when we finally linked it was as though that prior conversation had never happened. We didn’t discuss my weight at all. In fact, he seemed conscientious to not allow his eyes to linger too long on my body at all. Still, he employed all his feeder tricks and made sure I ate until I was ready to pop. I sensed an odd tension within him that I tried to ignore as I made a pig of myself like always. Nevertheless, I was beginning to feel the most insane sexual frustration I’d ever experienced in my life.

Meanwhile, when I was on my own, I continued to stuff myself silly. I had less than a month left with Charlie, and some part of my brain believed that maybe if I got fat enough he would finally fuck me. My days revolved around consuming as much calories and fat as I could manage. I was constantly eating and constantly full to the point that I was kind of getting kind of sick of it. The physical discomfort and financial burden of becoming a fat guy was no joke. I persevered though. I was even hitting the gym less, not in an effort to gain fat but mostly out of exhaustion from eating so much, and the results were becoming shocking. Even though I had plenty of room to grow, I could feel my body transforming into a heavy sweaty mass that could barely do anything but lay around and eat.

As we approached the end of Charlie’s stay my gains were unavoidably pronounced. My belly was a constant presence that I could not ignore. It jiggled when I walked, it growled when it was hungry, it rested atop countertops and brushed against strangers, it got in the way when I bent over. I could still tie my shoes with a good grunt and manspread, but I could understand how that would be out of the question at a certain size. Sleeping on my stomach was becoming uncomfortable and, of course, nearly none of my clothes fit. My daily life felt like a fantasy as I spilled out every garment. I needed to size up and go shopping but I did not have the wherewithal. Besides, there truly is nothing hotter than outgrowing your clothes in real time.

Of course, I was counting down the days I had left with Charlie, and to my dismay he was barely reaching out. I couldn’t shake the sense that something had changed between us and I feared he’d jet back to Chicago without saying goodbye. I stuffed my face with empty calories to distract myself but my patience was running thin. Finally, he texted me.

‘Hey there’s a new chinese buffet by my place, let’s do ittt’

I was instantly erect upon reading this. I accepted immediately, knowing this would likely be the last time I would see Charlie before he went home. I knew it was ridiculous, but it felt like everything was riding on this. For the next three days before we met up I did GOMAD, which profoundly upset my digestive system. That said, I did gain a little over a pound in that short amount of time.

When the time finally came for our final day together, I was feeling squishier than ever. That morning I got a good pump in at the gym, my first in about a week, and pulled apart my closet to find the outfit that accentuated what a fat fuck I had become and was still becoming. Tattered old carpenter pants cinched in my waist causing an insane muffin top. They were tough to get buttoned and my girth kept the zipper pushed halfway down. In addition to the muffin top, they hugged my ass perfectly, giving me the appearance of a dump truck so fat it could be mistaken for a BBL were my thighs and gut not as equally juicy. An old grey tee clung to me like a second skin. This was the shirt that was closest to showing a sliver of belly in my entire closet. I absolutely knew that I would get there with another ten pounds, but for now it teased the prospect. The shirt was also a light grey, and was unforgiving with the least bit of sweat. As I planned, I was looking like a pig before I even arrived at the buffet.

Charlie leaned against the exterior of the restaurant, scrolling. He looked up as I approached and couldn’t help but scan my body from top to bottom before resting his gaze on the belly fat wobbling before me. I had successfully gotten his attention and felt a pang of satisfaction. We embraced. Charlie gave me a solid pat on the back before pulling back and resting both hands on my biceps.

“Let’s get you fed, big guy,” he said with a sparkle in his eye as he patted the side of my gut.

I could hardly believe the attention. I could have orgasmed right then and there, but I followed him in and we were shown to a booth.

“Let’s do this,” Charlie rubbed his hands together.

We grabbed plates and hit the buffet. I was surprised by how much food Charlie was piling atop his own plate, but knowing him half of it would eventually end up on mine. Nevertheless, I played dumb and pretended as though I found his eagerness contagious, filling my plate until food was nearly spilling off. We sat down and I looked onerously at the heap of food I had gathered.

“Fuck yeah, this looks great,” I said.

“Hey, you want my pen?” Charlie took a drag and passed it to me. “It’s weed.”

I shrugged, took a big toke, and dug in. Midway through my plate I realized I was stoned. The two of us had gone nonverbal as we ate. I was consumed by the flavors, which were actually quite stunning, and when I finally looked up I caught Charlie looking at me with that same mischievous glint in his eye from earlier. He was enjoying this, I could tell. So I continued eating with gusto and then demanded another puff once my plate was clear.

“Here, help me finish,” Charlie offered.

“Nah, I need more than that,” I stated confidently and stood up from the booth.

I belched into my fist and trotted off for another plateful of slop. I could feel Charlie’s eyes on me as I left. I returned with two plates of food and a beer. I questioned my capacity, but I had to show off for Charlie. He was barely concealing his feeder tendencies today and I was going to do the most to coax him out of his shell.

“Mmmm, this chicken is great. The noodles too,” I groaned lovingly.

It was a true statement. The weed was heightening the experience, and, surely as Charlie planned it, affording me extra room in my belly. I had the munchies and I wasn’t going to stop until my body forced me to. With bloodshot eyes I forked piles of greasy food into my mouth while Charlie watched discreetly. As time wore on I got sloppier and more piggish. My mouth was slick with grease and my shirt stained with food splatter. I was burping constantly from eating so much. Occasionally I would glance up to see Charlie awestruck.

His mouth actually dropped open after I polished my plates and, without asking, simply reached across the table to greedily grab his. It was cleared in five minutes. I sat back, letting the food mania wash over me. I was breathing heavily and somewhat disassociated. I could feel my belly pressing against my waistband, full and taught. My mind was consumed by food and sex.

“Dessert?” Charlie grinned.

“Fuck yeah.”

The desert looked unappealing but I still grabbed as much as I could. Unfortunately, it tasted as it looked. Nevertheless, I shoved every cake and custard down my gullet until I finally felt so full that the prospect of doing anything other than laying down seemed out of the question.

“Wanna come back to my place?” Charlie asked.

Obviously I agreed. When I stood from the booth I was proud that a sliver of belly finally hung free from my shirt. Charlie stared unapologetically at the wobbly flesh as I stretched once more to open up any crevice of space I could for my overpacked stomach. By the time I reached my car I was fully erect. I felt like such a fat stuffed porker that there was no way I could calm my libido down. I didn’t even try to hide the imprint of my erection snaking down my jeans as I entered Charlie’s apartment.

“Here,” Charlie cracked me a beer. “I also have these leftover donuts from work,” he fished a box of a half dozen chocolate donuts from the counter. “I thought you might be interested.”

“Oh man,” I sighed and patted my belly.

“Come on,” Charlie took a swig of his beer. That devilish glimmer returned to his eyes as he looked down at my belly. “I know you can fit more. I mean, look at you.”

Those last three words hung in the air. I sipped my beer as he looked me in the eyes, challenging me. I didn’t say a word and simply reached for a donut. I stared at him as I took a bite and swallowed. I grinned, feeling as though I had successfully overcome the challenge, but I was wrong.

“Go on,” Charlie demanded. “There’s five more in there.”

I hesitated for a moment and then shoved the remainder of the donut in my mouth. The sticky glob was hard to chew in one go but I got through it. I then shoved the next one in.

“Like this?” I garbled through the mouthful.

Charlie then stepped forward aggressively. It was startling but I kept my cool. He grabbed a donut from the box and shoved it in my face. I frantically consumed it and immediately he was shoving the next one into my mouth. With each donut he stepped closer until my glob of belly fat pressed against his hardened torso.

The donuts were gone and I was relieved, dripping precum, and unsure what my next move was. Charlie stepped away cockily and opened a cabinet. On the counter next to me he slammed down a tub of mass weight gain powder.

“Oh, I can’t-”

“Shut the fuck up. You’ve practically been begging me to do this for weeks. I mean look at you.” Charlie paused for effect. “You’ve become an absolute pig and I barely even had to try.”

I was speechless. My cock ached for relief.

“Sit over there, pig.” Charlie motioned towards an armchair.

He began blending the powder as I sat and prayed I had the capacity for whatever was coming my way. When Charlie arrived I was glad to see he had kept the concoction a thin liquid so it would be easy to get down. He handed me the container and pulled up a stool next to the armchair. His eyes dilated as I began to drink and his hands moved softly onto my belly.

“Aaaaatttttaaa boy,” he said in a low tone and slowly massaged my belly.

His hands felt amazing. Not only because I was beyond desperate to fuck, but he also relieved some pressure from my aching stomach. I shamelessly burped and farted, creating room for the shake to settle inside of me. I whimpered helplessly as he kneaded at my dough and I glugged down the liquid. Finally, one thunderous belch punctuated the fact the glass was empty.

“Fuuuck,” Charlie gently patted my gut, “look at this thing.”

“You like it?”

“I’m impressed. You’ve grown faster than any of my girls.”

He dug his hands deep into my belly and bared his teeth slightly. I groaned in pleasure and pain as my cock begged to be set free from my restrictive pants. He jiggled my heft softly and I realized I was sweating profusely. I wasn’t sure why, perhaps a mixture of gluttony and arousal.

“You wanna get bigger, don’t you?”

I nodded feverishly. He stood up and looked down at me. I must’ve looked ridiculous. Sweating and writhing, flushed pink with overwhelming desire. When he stood I saw that he too had a boner straining inside his pants.

“I normally don’t like when girls are into it too. It’s hot when they’re oblivious. But with you…” He trailed off as though he were deep in thought, his eyes studying my body. “I don’t know, maybe it’s different with men.”

Charlie slowly unbuttoned his pants. With the zipper down I could see the thick happy trail that led into his Calvin Klein briefs. He pulled down his pants revealing the well-sized outline of his erection beneath white cotton, a small dab of precum at the tip. To my surprise he kept going, pulling down his underwear so his cock sprang forward and pointed straight at me. He had a well-trimmed bush framed by chiseled cum gutters and a nice pair of balls.

“You want this don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Undress yourself.”

I stood and removed my shirt. He stared at my naked upper body, squeezed my left boob, then pinched the roll of fat above my love hand that had just formed a week ago. He cupped my belly and gave it a wobble then stepped back, studying me.

“Developing a good layer of cushion atop the muscle. Stick with the gym but only two or three days a week. Balance the greasy food with eating clean, but do get a lot of carbs…” He trailed off, still studying me. “We’ll make a good plan for you later. Turn you into a real fucking porker. Now get naked.”

Charlie walked away as I hesitantly dropped my pants. My underwear was soaked with precum and I was still pumping it out. Charlie returned with a sheet cake in his arms. I looked at it wearily. As much as I was aroused by this whole scenario, I really didn’t know if I could fit any more food inside me. He set it on the floor between us and looked me up and down.

“On your knees pig.”

I did as I was told, nervous and aroused, with the cake sitting before me as I assumed he wanted. Charlie saddled up behind me. His arms wrapped around my sides, pressing into my love handles as he fondled my belly fat. My gut was pretty taut from all the feasting, but I still had some softness to play with, a testament to my genuine growth. Charlie took his time feeling me up. One hand floated down to my cock, embracing my pipe and slowly pumping it. The other explored my chest as he licked and bit at the back of my neck. When he’d had enough he pushed me onto all fours.

His hands explored my ass in the same manner. He jiggled and wobbled the fat, gave it a couple slaps, and spread my cheeks. He fingered my hole a bit before I felt the cold sensation of lube being spread around and inside of me.

“Start eating,” he said.

I began to shove handfuls of the cake into my mouth. It was red velvet and tasted phenomenal. Strangely, once I started I found the room to keep eating. For a “straight” guy, Charlie was a good top who took his time playing with and massaging my hole. By the time his cock was inside me I was hungry for it. The cake was disappearing faster than I would have anticipated as he began to ride me.

He held two handfuls of ass fat as he pumped in and out. It took awhile before he found my prostate, but when he did I nearly lost it. It must have been obvious that I was about to bust because he kept my hands away from my cock.

“Keep eating piggy. Fuck yeah.”

Whatever sounds that were coming from me at this point were far from intelligible.

“Fuuuck, that’s a good boy!” He slapped my ass and quickened his pace. “Fuck yeah piggy, fuck! Eat that cake! Jiggle for me fat boy.”

I was yelping in rapture as my vision went white and my body began to tremble.

“Oh fuck! FUCK! I’m gonna come!” he bellowed.

I was already coming, hands-free.

“Good piggy, good piggy. FUCK!”

Charlie shot his load inside of me with a momentous grunt.

He caught his breath after several moments and slowly pulled out. Completely spent, I collapsed on the floor and closed my eyes. I don’t know how long I was out for, but when I awoke the cake was gone.

“Mel, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Charlie helped me to my feet and led me to the shower where he quite affectionately lathered and washed my entire body, paying special attention to my creases and folds. We toweled off and laid on his bed in the nude. For the first time I was able to fully take in the contrast in our bodies. His every move was punctuated with contracting sinewy muscle. The contours of his body were sharp and masculine, stretched out like a Greek statue in recline.

Me, on the other hand, I was rounded and fluffy. Laying on my side, my belly pooled before me. With my knee bent upward, my thigh fat hung and wobbled. Fat rolls punctuated the different parts of my body, mounding high atop my muscle and drooping low below. My shape melted nicely into the bed, whereas Charlie looked like a hard object someone had placed atop the comforter.

“I assume you don’t know this about me,” Charlie began. “But I do this as a side gig.”

I looked at him quizzically. “Do what? Fuck your college friends?” I felt incredulous and nervous for what was coming.

“No,” he chuckled. “I fatten girls up. Girls who are into this stuff will pay me to tease them, fuck them, encourage them, that sorta thing. Kind of like a dominatrix, I guess, but for women who want to get fat.”

“I did not know that.” My head was spinning.

“I mean I do it for fun too. That’s how it started. Fattening up my girlfriends and everything, and I still prefer girls who aren’t into the fetish. But I did find this community online and started posting… I haven’t told many people this-” Charlie hesitated.

“It’s between us.”

“Anyway, I um, I don’t really do guys but… something about you felt different, special. And I, um…” he trailed off nervously.

I reached over and cupped his hand. “Go on.”

“I want to keep encouraging you. If you’re interested. I’d really love to blow you up, I can see you getting really big, like past four hundred pounds. You have a great base and will carry the weight well, I know it.”

“Uhhh,” I laughed, “how much is this gonna cost me?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that! No charge, I want to do this. I mean,” Charlie chuckled, “it’ll cost you your wardrobe, but I think you already need a new one.”

I laughed and placed a hand atop my wobbling belly fat. I looked down at myself, my body almost unrecognizably fat, and tried to imagine it even larger.

“Let’s do it.”