Movers and Gainers: Chapter 2

That first month I was the most dutiful boyfriend you could imagine. I was at his bedside as much as I possibly could be. I cooked him meals, baked delicious treats, delivered take out, and cleaned up around the house. I helped him shower and we watched movies and I gave massages. However, I would be lying if I said I didn’t see this as a golden opportunity to butter my man up.

The best part was that his appetite hadn’t decreased since his injury. He still had the capacity for the meals he was eating when he was spending every day embroiled in grueling physical activity. In fact, it almost seemed like he had more capacity, probably because he was bored and eating felt good and passed the time. I made sure he stayed satiated with the most caloric foods I could find. I even began doing “milkshake monday” where I would make us each a massive milkshake filled with protein powder, heavy cream, and peanut butter. I would get so horny watching him down this thousand plus calorie concoction that I’d have to conceal my erection.

Sure enough, after only a couple weeks I began to see the results of my feeder impulses. There was no doubt in my mind that Alejandro’s paunch had grown. He had been wearing the same pair of basketball shorts most days, and now when he sat up his pooch folded over more generously than before. He even had a new crease forming midway up his belly which anticipated the formation of a new fat roll. His love handles seemed a bit fuller too. My libido went off the charts after noting these changes.

We were humping multiple times a day. I wondered if Alejandro could sense how his changing body was driving me wild. Sometimes after a meal I would suck him off or give him a hand job as an unspoken reward for him eating large. I hoped that he would begin to associate being full with getting sex and unconsciously start stuffing himself when he was horny.

Meanwhile, I continued to up the ante when it came to food. Dessert was mandatory at every meal and one serving was never enough. Sometimes I’d order extra sides, like fries for example, and present it as one order. If it meant I had to eat more so that he wouldn’t notice then so be it. Whatever I could do to fatten him up.

After two months of bed rest, Alejandro was getting soft. He felt like dough beneath my eager hands. His golden brown skin puffed out like freshly baked rolls of bread. His belly was my favorite part. I admired how his navel rose several inches high when he was supine. A thick happy trail led down to his pubic hair and uncut cock. His balls hung between chubby thighs that reverberated when he orgasmed. I loved taking his manhood in my mouth and feeling his plush legs smother my face as he erupted down my throat.

Sure enough the crease on his side turned into a fully grabbable fat roll that separated his love handles from his softening chest. When he sat up everything spilled forward and the roll formed a deep crease. Small rolls formed in his arm pits as well, along with the beginnings of a double chin. When he got out of bed I would marvel at his ass, two mounds of hairy flesh that jiggled with every step.

To encourage absolute laziness, I did most of the heavy lifting when it came to sex. I rode his cock eagerly, bouncing up and down while he jiggled beneath. I gave him blow jobs almost every day and sometimes multiple times a day. If he was stationed at the couch playing video games I couldn’t help but wedge my face between his thick thigh meat and pleasure him.

He really seemed to be enjoying this newfound lifestyle too. As the weeks turned into months I learned that Alejandro was something of a hedonist. Even as he began to recover he chose to continue a sedentary lifestyle regardless of my encouragement. His eyes lit up when we tried a new take out place, he looked forward to fucking and cuddling, he preferred to stay stoned 24/7.

After several months of this I too began to put on some weight. It wasn’t as noticeable as Alejandro’s gains, but I suppose it was inevitable with the way we were living. My jeans were beginning to dig into my waist when I sat down and my underwear was getting snug as my ass plumped up. Alejandro never commented on either of our bodies, but he did seem to be enjoying jiggling my ass more than he used to.

I pretended like I didn’t notice a thing, even though I was secretly trying to calculate exactly how much my boyfriend had gained since his injury. My guess was thirty pounds, a number that made my cock incredibly stiff, but I wasn’t sure. I used a BMI visualizer to try and guess exactly where he was at. I did feel guilty at times for covertly fattening up my boyfriend. It was a bit devious to sneak heavy cream into his food or intentionally push him past a certain calories count in one day. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed happier than ever. He even began rubbing or patting his belly after eating. He even began to refer to his stomach as “the tank,” as in “the tank isn’t full yet, should we stop for ice cream?” Or, “I feel great, the tank is at capacity.” Obviously, this drove me wild.