Two Hundred Pounds Later: Chapter 2

I had to pull the funnel out of my mouth and plug it with my thumb so I could belch and take a breath. My breathing was labored and I was beginning to sweat. Calvin stroked my cock lazily with one hand and held the funnel upright with the other. We had been at it for hours.

“Atta boy,” he purred in a low deep tone.

The encouragement spurred me back into action. I wrapped my lips around the sticky opening of the tube of plastic that was pouring melted ice cream into my mouth. It wasn’t about the flavor or taste of the ice cream anymore. Hell, it wasn’t even entirely sexual, though we were both hard. It almost felt like a challenge, week after week, to see just how much we could consume, how fat we could grow.

When I saw the 20 pound gain on the scale a few months ago I wasn’t even trying to gain weight. Another 10 crept up on me effortlessly as I stress ate sweets throughout the month of December in the middle of moving from LA to Seattle. However, once I touched down in the Pacific Northwest and met up with Calvin, gaining became a bit more intentional.

Calvin pulled the tube from my mouth and put it in his. With some difficulty I stood from the couch and we switched positions. He sat down with his legs spread wide and his swollen tank of a gut peeking out from behind a ribbed tank. It was an undeniably masculine position, not so subtly challenging my intake. He chugged from the funnel, unlike my lazy gulps, causing his adams apple to bob up and down.

See, Calvin wasn’t much bigger than me but I was perhaps fatter. Calvin had a base of muscle from his youth playing baseball, lacrosse, and volleyball, on top of which lay a thick and buttery layer of dough that primarily collected around his belly. This meant he had a metabolism that was unparalleled and could outpace my consumption in most scenarios. Sometimes I was jealous, but hitting the gym regularly was just so much work.

A string of precum connected Calvin’s cock to the couch. The navy blue fabric had several pale stains from where we had sat like this before, stretching our stomachs with a surplus of ice cream until we finally erupted in orgasm. Calvin owned a small chain of ice cream shops called Calvin’s Creamery so he had basically an endless supply of delectable dairy on tap. He also had this amazing loft on Capitol Hill with exposed bricks, a million plants, and one cum stained couch.

I had messaged him on Grommr as soon as I moved and we hit it off immediately. It’s always a risk using Grommr but thankfully our personalities clicked just as much as our sexual predilections. Then, before you know it, we’re routinely pouring melted ice cream down our throats and trying to grow as fat as possible.

Calvin’s gulping eventually slowed so he reached around and grabbed a handful of my ass to keep him going. I barely even knew what I looked like from behind anymore, but according to Calvin my ass was outpacing my belly in terms of growth. Frankly, I found this hard to believe because as I stood there holding the funnel my gut seemed so much larger than I remembered.

Long gone were the days of being able to see my own dick when standing, but now my feet were disappearing as well. Red stretch marks were exploding across my belly at a somewhat concerning pace. Plus, the overhang was growing so thick that it was beginning to throw off my balance. And Calvin wanted me to believe my ass was keeping pace?!

Although, to be fair, I was nearly clocking in at 350 these days. I could hardly believe it, but two months with Calvin had added another 20 pounds of lard to my body. Truthfully, I barely recognized myself in the mirror and often avoided my own reflection so that I could live in the erotic fantasy of constant consumption and growth.

Finally, Calvin finished off the remainder of the ice cream. I set the funnel aside and had the urge to straddle his lap, however the days of that being physically possible for me or Calvin were long gone. We simply had too much in the way. Instead I plopped onto the couch next to him and we sloppily made out while feeling up each other’s bellies. He definitely had more to grab onto than a couple weeks ago.

I wagered that Calvin had probably put on about ten pounds since we met. It was hard to tell on a man who was already so bulky, but I could feel the fresh softness at his overhang. His body type leaned towards muscle gut but his latest gains were from pure creamy dairy consumption, and that consistency replicated itself in a supple handful of flesh below his navel. I wondered just how doughy I could make this ex-jock.

“Let’s re-up the funnel,” Calvin grinned.

I groaned. “I don’t know, I think I’m at capacity…”

“You always say that and then you swallow up another two pints like it’s nothing.”

I grinned despite my hesitation.

“Come on babe,” he continued. He had never called me babe before and it took me aback. “You’re only a few pounds away from 350. Let’s get you over the line big boy.”

I was useless when he employed language like this and so I simply laid back on the couch with my mouth open and waiting, my cock so hard I could feel it pressing against my overhang.

“Atta boy,” Calvin said as he placed the funnel in my mouth and began pouring another tub of ice cream down my throat.