Too Fat to Fly

Brandt enjoyed the attention he received as a flight attendant. With a square jaw, unnaturally white teeth, an expensive coif, and toned gym body, he got plenty of stares from men and women alike. On more than one occasion a passenger had described him as a Clark Kent type. Naturally, Brandt enjoyed the compliments and grew used to receiving them. He made a modest salary and found himself unlucky in love, but he could always rely on his looks. Or so he thought.

When the coronavirus pandemic hit he was put on indefinite leave alongside so many of his colleagues. Brandt was fairly sociable and enjoyed his job, which made quarantining alone in his small one bedroom apartment all the more difficult. To make matters worse his favorite stress reliever -the gym- was closed. Brandt felt completely isolated and it didn’t take long for him to turn to comfort food.

At first, he tried to keep up with home workouts and a healthy diet. But as the days wore on he struggled to see the point in such endeavors. There was no one around to see his appearance, no one to dish compliments or seductively glance at his bodily assets. So he began to let his diet slip. A little pizza wouldn’t hurt, an extra serving here or there wasn’t the end of the world.

It wasn’t soon before he began skipping workouts. Working out at home seemed less effective anyway, he told himself. Besides, he couldn’t be bothered. If he was quarantined he might as well make the most of it and enjoy himself. He figured that in a month or two the gyms would reopen and he’d be in tip top shape in no time. So Brandt began spending days sprawled on the couch watching movies, playing video games, and eating everything he’d restricted himself from for so many years.

After three months of living like this he woke up one day and realized he was getting chubby. A definite paunch was now spilling forward from where his rock hard abs had once been. It wrapped around his waist into a pair of small, but defiantly present, love handles. Even his legs had thickened up a bit, losing some of their definition. Brandt had also given up on grooming and he was surprised to feel how densely hairy his chest, belly, and bush had become since he had started buzzing so many years ago.

“Who am I?” he thought to himself. The fat at his midsection was soft and malleable, a sensation he hadn’t quite experienced before. It was almost enticing on a base level, but he still told himself this couldn’t continue. He needed to cut back on the eating especially if he was working out less. A decrease in activity meant that he should be limiting his intake, not expanding it. Despite telling himself this, he couldn’t resist when he received a coupon in his email for a new burrito spot nearby.

As the pandemic wore on it became evident that Brandt was not getting back into a gym anytime soon and it was possible he wouldn’t even be returning to work for quite awhile. The isolation wasn’t great on his mental health either as he slumped into a depression. For the first time Brandt consciously made a decision to let loose and unabashedly forgo maintaining his outward appearance. At this point he couldn’t deny the weight gain, but he could avoid thinking about it.

He was now taking measures to hide himself from the reality of his situation. The first was that he avoided the scale at all costs. He did not need to see what the numbers were. Feeling the weight pack onto his body was more than enough of a reminder of who he had become. He also stopped wearing pants, other than sweats, altogether. The last time he put on a pair of denim he had to suck in to get the button closed and he knew he had expanded since then. All he needed were sweatpants and joggers. Besides, he rarely left the house unless it was to get food and when he did almost everyone else was in the same boat: pudgy and in athleisure.

After six months of living this way, Brandt was beginning to feel more than pudgy. He was getting exceptionally thick. He had an undeniable gut hanging off of him as though he were some middle aged dad in the suburbs. It jiggled and got in the way, it pooled next to him as he slept, it was even beginning to cover up his manhood when he sat down. Not quite an overhang yet, it protruded quite a few inches from his body.

One morning as he lay in bed squeezing and examining the ball of chub he’d accumulated, he got an email from the airline. He was being taken off leave and was requested back at work in exactly one week. He was shocked. One week! How could they give such little notice? There was no way he could lose all this weight in such a short time. What would his colleagues say?

With that, he leapt out of bed with a heavy jiggle and brushed off the dust on his scale. He watched the numbers climb nauseatingly further than he anticipated. When the finally stopped rising Brandt learned he had put on a significant amount of weight during quarantine. Fifty three pounds to be exact. He was shocked. What had he done to himself? Clark Kent had gotten fat.

He then proceeded to his closet where he dug out his old uniform. Taking a deep breath Brandt slipped his legs into the pants. They were snug in the thighs but at least they had made it that far. He then learned that his butt was the primary hurdle here.

Next he slipped on his button up. It was another tight squeeze that required sucking in, but this one didn’t burst open when he exhaled. Still, it was mighty tight and straining at the buttons in an obscenely unprofessional manner. Next, Brandt slipped on the company vest hoping this would conceal the tightness of his shirt. Sure, he could button the vest, but his belly comically drooped out from beneath. Part of him knew he couldn’t wear this to work, but he still tested whether he could bend over in these clothes. He could not. Reaching towards the ground, the buttons on the shirt and the vest popped clean off as the sack of fat at his torso burst free for some fresh air.

Despite what had just transpired, Brandt gave in to his morning hunger pangs and ordered a hearty spread from a diner nearby. After that meal the diet would officially start, he told himself. Yet by the time lunch arrived he was starved from not allowing himself to snack throughout the day and gobbled up a delicious burger, onion rings, milkshake, and pie from a local diner. This pattern repeated for dinner and the next day and the next. He couldn’t seem to control himself.

All the while, shopping for a new wardrobe was grueling. Dressing rooms were closed due to the pandemic and Brandt found himself in a cycle of bringing clothes home only to return them for a larger size. He had really underestimated the extent to which he let himself go. Even underwear and belts needed to be sized up as the shadow of his former self seemed more distant than ever.

By the time he started back at work he had failed to lose any weight. In fact, he had put on another two pounds. His nerves were rattled as he returned to the airport for the first time in a little over six months. Luckily, his fellow flight attendants were all women who had also gained some weight during quarantine and knew better than to comment on anyone else’s weight. Still, there were knowing glances and quite a few elephants in the room.

Brandt did receive one comment and it filled him with anxiety. The captain of one his flights, a portly man himself, thwacked Brandt in the belly and said: “I never thought I’d see the day, Clark Kent has gone to pot! You better be careful with that BMI now, pilots can be fat but there’s a threshold for flight attendants don’t forget.” Brandt had indeed forgotten. All airlines had a BMI limit for their crew to ensure they can properly perform all tasks, fit in the jumpseat, and facilitate the emergency exit.

That evening Brandt frantically searched the internet and flipped through his employee handbook but couldn’t find the BMI threshold. Finally, he calmed down by reassuring himself he’s not going to get any fatter. With some strict dieting he has nothing to worry about. That night he went to bed hungry and woke up ravenous. So ravenous that he couldn’t resist a breakfast burrito and then a couple of donuts at the airport alongside a large frappuccino.

As he logged in for work his boss, an extremely fit gay man, approached him. Apparently the airline was concerned about his weight and requested a weigh in. Humiliated, Brandt brushed the donut crumbs off his belly and followed the slight homosexual to the scale. Brandt’s BMI was 29.2, well into the overweight range and on the verge of obese. He was advised to bring his BMI down to 25 or risk disciplinary measures.

Brandt was shocked and embarrassed. He couldn’t believe this had happened, yet he still struggled to curb his appetite. It was as though his stomach had a mind of its own and Brandt had no choice but to feed it. Despite the public embarrassment his intake continued to sky rocket.

He tried to limit himself at work and in public, but found himself sneaking pastries in between flights and inhaling whole pizzas when he got home. Naturally, his body continued to grow alongside his appetite. The shirts he had bought were growing snug as his belly and love handles expanded outward. The stretch marks around his navel multiplied as his gut folded into a definable overhang. Even his pecs, once hard as a rock, were beginning to soften and droop.

Waistbands were getting tight and only pushed his gut up and out even more, accentuating its girth. Meanwhile, his ass continued to swell and gobble up his underwear. Having gone up another size, he also transitioned to briefs that were less bothersome on his fluffy thighs. The girth of his lower half now pushed at the seams of his pants, especially when he sat down, causing his overall appearance to be sausage-like.

About a month after his weigh-in Brandt was bigger than ever and really starting to feel the effects of his weight. Walking across the airport had become a chore that sometimes caused him to break a sweat, while his breathing had grown heavy. Bending over was difficult with so much chub accumulating in his middle. Even sitting down was becoming a delicate act that strained his legs and required proper aim.

The clearest sign that he was stacking on pounds at an unbelievable rate was that he began to need a seat belt extender on the plane. Even the jumpseat seemed in danger of his heft, especially on smaller aircraft. Brandt was not unaware of his girth and gluttony, often apologizing for how his belly spilled forward into passengers’ faces as he checked the overhead bins, or sometimes grazed the aisle seat as he reached across to deliver a soft drink.

He knew this was going to get him in trouble, but it felt so good to just eat. All the years he had spent restricting himself and struggling at the gym had only proved how nice it was to simply indulge. Why shy away from what feels good? Brandt was a hedonist and proud of it.

Nevertheless, he had to face reality someday and when his boss came knocking Brandt knew what was in store. Stepping on the scale once again proved he had gained twenty seven pounds in only the last month. Almost a pound a day. His BMI was well past the obese threshold and Brandt was kindly asked to step down. An office position was opening up in two months and they encouraged him to apply.

With that, Brandt waddled out of the airport and drove straight to the drive thru.

The next two months flew by as Brandt lived on savings and stimulus payments. He had applied for the office job and been accepted, so he wasn’t concerned about cash. All he was concerned with was food and relaxation. He ate day in and day out. The gym had become a distant memory as he moved between his bed and the couch to eat and play video games.

Society was opening up, but Brandt didn’t care. He was content being fat and lazy. Another new wardrobe was purchased for his new position and to accommodate his ever-larger frame. As he stared in the mirror before his first day of work it was like he was looking at another person. It was almost eerie.

Brandt’s face had finally filled out. His angular features had softened. He looked pale from being indoors and his lips looked red and hungry, the portal for his gluttony. A thick double chin encased his neck which was perhaps the appendage he noticed the most after his belly. It kept his face warm and would sometimes grow slick with sweat. His scruff now scratched against itself in the fold.

His shoulders and chest were absolutely fleshy, with a roll sitting comfortably in his armpit. All definition had been consumed under padding. His belly now arched upward and outward considerably from beneath his chest. The fat was dense and heavy, pushing out his arms awkwardly. The overhang only deepened with time and began to conceal a fat pad that had only recently exploded, almost tripling in size in only a few weeks. He kept his bush dense, not to conceal the burning stretch marks underneath, but because it was difficult to reach down there to trim. Even jerking off required an awkward reach.

Love handles had grown enormous and aggressively visible from behind. They were beginning to outweigh the spherical dimpled masses that were his left and right butt cheeks. From behind Brandt was a series of tightly packed rolls. From the front, his stomach attracted all the attention, round and pert it hung past his waistline with a palpable heaviness. His legs were tree trunks supporting this mass. Solid and compacted with fat.

Everything bulged from beneath his clothes.

Gazing at his own growth, Brandt patted his belly and gave it a jiggle with both hands. The fat was heavy and cumbersome. The motion rocked a belch out from inside of him that echoed against the walls of his bathroom. With that, his cock twitched and began to harden.