Dispatches: Holiday Season in Food Service

Little Rock, Arkansas / November 20th / Colossal Cookie

“I’ll take a baker’s dozen, please.”

A well-worn T-shirt hung loosely over the pile of belly fat hanging off his waist while grey sweatpants clung to his meaty butt and generous bulge. This guy looked like he’d been laying in bed all day watching TV and only emerged to buy a boatload of cookies. He was a chubby one for sure, but who wasn’t these days? Especially the ones that came into the shop.

As he stood waiting for his order he stared at his phone, his hands resting on his belly. He adjusted his package a couple times. You could see the outline of his dick through the heather grey fabric. It was a girthy cock, proportional to his overall plumpness. He scratched at the days of scruff accumulating on his double chin. He looked bored and hungry.

When his two boxes of cookies came out his face lit up. He grabbed them excitedly, placing them atop his belly. Before he was even out of the store he opened the top box up and fished out a cookie, grabbing it with his mouth. He opened the door with his back, his ass cheeks spreading across the glass of the window. This man was all cushion. He looked like he would be great at cuddling.

A few steps out the door and the top box of cookies falls to the ground. A few cookies fell onto the sidewalk. He sighed and hiked up his sweatpants so that he could bend over and collect his fallen goods. Squatting down, the elastic waistband dipped far below his waist so that you could see a generous amount of ass cheek. They were deliciously plump and dimpled with cellulite, a tuft of dark hair sprouting from the crack.

Squatted over, his love handles spread further outward while the front of his belly hung against his junk. One could see just the base of the convex curve of exposed flesh that were his love handles. They were even scattered with a few small stretch marks.

This man wasted no time concerning himself of whether he should retrieve cookies off the ground or not. In fact, he began eating them straight from the pavement while putting some back in the box. Once he was finished he stood back up. His shirt was unknowingly pinched between the boxes causing almost the entirety of his gut to hang exposed.

Without a care in the world this man continued down the sidewalk, his hairy chub exposed for all the world to see, swaying back and forth as he stuffed cookie after cookie into his mouth. Multiple people stared, a kid even pointed, but he hadn’t the slightest clue. He was too consumed with devouring the sugary treats to even notice.

New York City / November 12th / Bodega

I first met this guy when he moved to the city almost a year ago. He lives nearby and frequents the deli all the time. Working the counter you get used to regulars, but this one I looked forward to. Most people get to New York and lose weight from all the walking, but not this guy. He arrived a scrawny twink and turned into a massive gym rat. The first few months he was stacking on muscle at a phenomenal rate and at some point his appetite awakened. I swear, the last few weeks of summer he must’ve put on 20 pounds, and not just muscle.

Since it got cold he’s been hitting up the deli constantly. He usually buys a sandwich or lasagna with a bag of chips and a soda, sometimes desert too. That’s what he’s doing today, actually. I’m eyeing him from the register as he gazes at the deli counter with a hunger in his eyes. It’s fucking freezing outside but all this dude has on are gym shorts and a sweater.

His thighs are just hanging out there. They’re super stocky. Muscle and fat, jiggling every time he moves. His legs are pale from being covered up and mighty hairy. He shuffles around as he’s deciding what to order and I clock every quiver that rumbles through those beefy thick ones. I think about getting my face in between them, sucking his cock. As he’s close to coming he squeezes his legs together and my face is lost between thigh chub. I just know he has a huge cock, I can practically smell it.

Up top he’s getting a bit chubby too. I swear this dude was rail thin ten months ago. A gust of wind could’ve blown him over. And now his belly is pushing out the fabric of his sweater. Hell, I can’t even see the entirety of his waistband. He absentmindedly rubs his belly and licks his lips while staring at all the food.

He ends up ordering lasagna, fried chicken, and a slice of pie. He turns around to grab something from the fridge and I get a view of his rear. It’s thicker than ever. In those shorts I can make out each sphere of ass fat and the chasm between them. They bounce a bit as he takes a step. I want nothing more than to slap those cheeks around a bit, feel them wobble beneath my hands, then spread them wide and dive right in. I’d fuck him into oblivian. I’d make that ass bounce.

He returns with a jug of whole milk. The boy must be doing a dirty bulk. There’s no other explanation. I ring him up and we exchange a few words. I figure he’s straight and all. Why bother flirting. Still, I don’t mind getting an eyeful. He waits in the corner while his food is bagged up. I admire his broad shoulders. They look beefy beneath his sweater. I imagine the taste of his armpits after working out and the way his face must flush red when he’s exerting himself.

I hear his stomach growl from several feet away. The guy is hungry. He opens up the milk and takes a swig. I flag him over to hand off his food and his face lights up. He can’t wait to eat. The gluttony is written all over his goofy smile. He’s probably going to head back to his tiny studio apartment, strip naked, his cock and balls hanging between those luscious thighs, and inhale all that food in a few minutes flat. If I’m lucky he’ll come back for seconds.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania / December 17th / Whole Foods

Craig was always a big guy but my god has he blown up. As coworkers, we’ve never been that close or anything. Sure we share some small talk or joke around on the floor when we share a shift, but nothing too deep. Mostly because he’s straight as an arrow and, although I’m wildly attracted to him and always have been, I don’t see any reason to get too close.

He’s a generally attractive guy: tall, dark and handsome. He’s got a low key punk sensibility. A little rough around the edges and kind of dirty, but it works for him. Since I started he’s had a bit of a paunch that stuck out from his middle or rolled over his jeans when he bent over. Adept at swinging back a six pack of PBR multiple nights a week, it showed on his waistline. His thighs and booty were kind of thick too, always clad in well worn Dickies. I would’ve loved to hook up with him.

He first started putting on weight in October when his girlfriend of three years broke up with him. It came as a surprise to anyone that knew him. They were thick as thieves and he didn’t see it coming. Naturally, Craig slumped into a bit of a depression. He was showing up to work late, looked more disheveled than usual, and was going out every night. After a couple weeks of living like this he developed a permanently bloated look. At first, I thought it was from the drinking, he often wreaked of alcohol and cigarettes, but ten pounds later I realized he was just getting fat.

As the weeks wore on, the chub on his belly accumulated rapidly. His notorious concert tees were getting stretched to the max over his gut. His bubble butt was looking less impressive as love handles outgrew and overshadowed his lower half. His face was rounding out a bit too, especially under the chin. I started to notice that he was also getting winded moving supplies.

By mid-November Craig was seriously chubby. His shirts were constantly riding up on his curves and I noticed he’d bought a brand new pair of Dickies. On lunch breaks, his spreads were massive. I was shocked at how much food he was able to down in a short amount of time. He was also taking home any expired pastries or pizza whenever he could. At this point, all the staff were gossiping about his rapid growth. No one could believe it, many were shocked, and me? I was pretty turned on.

A week or so into December and Craig was becoming unrecognizable. He no longer could wear any of his beloved tees. Out of nowhere his thighs and ass began growing again. Suddenly he had an ass shelf you could rest a drink on. Whenever we were stocking together I snuck as many glances as I could when he bent over. It was obscene the amount of dough that spilled out of his clothes. I was surprised that management hadn’t said anything.

Today, you wouldn’t believe what just happened. Craig is looking plumper than ever, waddling around the store with heavy footsteps. He’s shopping for himself after his shift and his cart is completely full. He reaches for one of the top shelves, and I spot some stretch marks on his lower back. Leaning forward his belly gets in the way and knocks some cans onto the ground. He curses to himself and struggles to squat down and pick them up. As he does so, I hear a rip and look over. His Dickies, the new ones from a month ago, have ripped right up the ass. I can see his fat ass cheeks bulging outward in tighty whiteys. I watch his embarrassment from afar before sneaking off to the bathroom to jerk off.

San Francisco, California / December 4th / Emile’s Kitchen

You’d think people would stay in on rainy days, right? Not here. Seemingly every millennial tech worker decided to come here for brunch today. I thought it would be a chill day, but no. At the very least there’s some eye candy.

Like this guy that came in with his girlfriend. You can tell he’s been packing it on over the holidays and over quarantine because his puffy patagonia vest is about to burst. It barely even covers him at the base. I saw him in line awkwardly yanking it down so that the gut he’s been growing doesn’t spill out. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just unzip it. Clearly the compression is pushing his chub out from underneath.

The girlfriend ordered a fruit bowl and toast while he ordered a stack of pancakes and thick cut bacon. Honestly, I was surprised he’d be so brazenly gluttonous. He even asked for extra cream in his coffee. You can tell he’s a man that likes his cream because his actual body looks creamy and buttery. He’s definitely got an extra fifty pounds on him and it’s not just in his gut. He’s got padding all around.

Not surprisingly, he downed the pancakes in record time. By the end of the meal his stomach was so swollen that his ridiculous little vest was riding up. He tried to pull it down but there was no point. His stomach was too extended. The soft flab of his love handles, encased in thin jersey fabric, oozed out from underneath like a cream filled dessert. And as he reached across the table to steal some of his girlfriend’s food, he became even more exposed as his vest became more of a bib.

In addition to this growing chub, there’s a hipster with a bunch of friends and a pot belly of his own. He’s wearing some vintage tee that looks painfully tight. I’ve been waiting for him to stretch because it will surely expose that fleshy little paunch with even the slightest reach upward. He looks like your average dude that spends too much time drinking beer, smoking pot, and eating pizza. He was probably rail thin in his youth and is now settling into some chub.

Not holding back, he ordered an omelette, french toast, and bacon. The servings here are large too so this was a lot of food. He ate slowly but really seemed to be enjoying his food. He’s probably stoned. After polishing his plates he stood up to go to the bathroom and I got to see him from behind. His love handles were more pronounced than I expected and his ass was seriously fat.

It pushed at the seams of his denim with every step. The two fleshy wads of fat that were his butt cheeks rolled around generously; a feast for the eyes. By the time he came back the group had already paid so he remained standing and grabbed his jacket. Finally, the moment had come. As he reached his arms into his jacket his paunch became fully exposed. One of his friend’s laughed and slapped his gut loudly causing it to jiggle.

“Fuck you, I’m full!” he exclaimed.

Albuquerque, New Mexico / December 2nd / University Mess Hall

Here he is, back for another round. Just as I anticipated. Every year I watch these boys enroll in the fall and fatten up week after week until they’re barely fitting in their clothes come winter break. It happens to almost all of them. I’ve seen the skinniest computer science majors end up as video game playing, weed smoking, tubs of lard by the time they graduate. I’ve seen gay boys go from designer-clad twink to rugged cub in no time. Still, it hits the jocks the hardest. Coming out of highschool they feel invincible and then after months of partying and cafeteria food they’re on the road to an overweight BMI.

That’s the case for my favorite flavor of the month, Ethan Carson. He arrived on a football scholarship in probably the best shape of his life. Muscles bulged beneath tank tops and well-groomed body hair. His shoulder to hip ratio seemed almost cartoonish. And the cherry on top were his pearly whites, dashing smile, and chiseled face. It didn’t take long before all of that sunk beneath a generous layer of chub.

Granted, if I’m being honest, as director of the kitchen I do my part to push this process along. Especially during the holidays. The kids want greasy fattening foods especially when it’s cold out and they’re missing their family. It’s comforting. Sure, I keep the portions large, but I don’t control who comes back for seconds and thirds. And it’s not my fault if they stuff themselves silly with junk food and alcohol in their free time.

So I fill another bowl high with extra creamy macaroni and cheese and hand it off to Ethan Carson. I watch as he lumbers away. That trim waist of his is now buried under a significant spare tire. It’s barely concealed by the university hoodie that used to be baggy on him. His love handles are so significant their jiggle has a life of their own. Give him a few months and I guarantee that muffin top will be broader than his all-star shoulders.

Like most football players, his rear is just as overgrown. I haven’t seen him in anything other than sweatpants for over a month now. I doubt his ass fits into anything else. Even when he sits down it looks huge, like a massive cushion that spills over the edge of his seat. On multiple occasions now I’ve caught his friends making fun of his ass. It’s so spherical and plush it’s hard to ignore, especially as it bounces with every step.

He sits down sideways on the cafeteria bench so that his legs straddle each side. He’s been doing this a lot lately. I wonder if it’s because his belly presses into the table otherwise. Regardless, in profile I can see how his thigh fat hangs heavily inside the thin fabric of his sweatpants. His belly spills forward into his lap. It must extend at least six inches now and I imagine that it totally eclipses his cock when he sits down.

He holds the mac and cheese bowl close to his face and shovels the food into his mouth, washing it down with a coke. He belches loudly and a few other students turn and stare in disgust. He pats his belly with a satisfied look on his face. These football types always take pleasure in their gluttony and growth, as though it verifies their masculinity.

To my surprise he wobbles back to the counter for more. His face looks soft. He’s still attractive but in a different way. Less swimsuit model and more dad next door. His sweatshirt has ridden up a bit and I can see the tight white tee gripping his burgeoning overhang. I try not to stare as he approaches.

“More?” I say.

He nods and stretches the sweatshirt back over his belly.