Winter Bulk: Week 13

It was my final week of bulking and boy did I make the most of it. Jimmy has been staying over every day since Christmas lazing around, eating leftovers, watching Netflix, and fucking. We’ve both been eating so much it's unbelievable. Just when I think I’m full and I’ve had enough for a while, he emerges from the kitchen with a big plate of food. I swear that guy is not satisfied unless I have something in my mouth.

We dropped the ball on the gym for another week but who cares. My cut begins in the new year so I might as well enjoy myself, right? Besides, Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind and has been pigging out right alongside me. Sometimes a dude’s gotta eat. It’s just part of being a man in the winter, you know? Bulking up for hibernation or what have you, keeping each other warm by packing a little extra on.

Well, I guess it’s been a lot extra. I put on six more pounds. That brings my total weight gained since October up to an even sixty pounds. Oof. I know this surpasses what most guys consider a typical bulk and that my fat/muscle percentage is definitely a little uneven. But who cares, I’m enjoying the weight and so is Jimmy. I feel like a fucking man, outright beastly and powerful. You couldn’t knock me off my feet if you tried.

The biggest muscle gains have been in my arms, chest, and neck. Well, at least the most visible muscle gains. My upper body has broadened considerably and the outlines of my muscles, although softened with chub, are visible through all of my clothes. I think I’ve also had significant gains in my glutes and thighs but that’s harder to tell as they’re coated in a few inches of fat. As for my abs? Forget about it. Sit ups are out of the question with this gut hanging off me. I don’t think I would even be capable of pulling one off if I tried.

The only thing I’m not a fan of are the stretch marks that popped up on my stomach in the last couple weeks. They’re all along the lower part of my belly that hangs over my waist band. They’re bright red and kind of itchy. I’m worried they won’t go away when I cut but I guess you win some and lose some. I also have some soft white ones on my inner thighs but those are less noticeable so I’m not too concerned.

My weight became the topic of the night on New Year’s Eve. I wore a skin tight T-shirt I had no business packing my gut into, but Jimmy insisted that I wear it. Over the shirt I wore an old flannel that remained unbuttoned because it refused to close around the spare tire. There was no denying that my gut was obscenely bulging out, you couldn’t ignore it.

One of my friends that I hadn’t seen in five years was there and he would not stop with the comments. The last time he saw me I was scrawny, I hadn’t even started working out yet let alone bulking. He didn’t even recognize me at first and when he finally did he shouted: “Bro, you got fucking HUGE. Where’d this gut come from?” I sorta downplayed it and explained I was bulking.

The only problem was that as the night wore on and I poured more and more shit down my throat, the gut continued to puff up. That shirt could contain me when the tank was half full, but when it got to max capacity it was a different story. I was too drunk to notice but apparent it rode up and stayed up for a good one or two hours. Finally my friend slapped my gut and said: “Hey Michelin Man, you gonna give us a belly dance?” At that point I realized I would have to keep tugging my shirt down for the remainder of the evening.

Now there’s all these photos of me running around looking like a fat slob, the camera flash especially illuminating the stretch marks. Seeing those images felt strange. I really was unrecognizable. Not only was my body ripe with muscle and fresh fat, but my face had also gotten rounder. I can’t deny that these images posed the question of whether I’d gone too far. I hadn’t anticipated my face looking so different from when I was thin. Not to mention the stretch marks, my primary source of insecurity about the weight gain.

Jimmy consoled me though, showering me with compliments and unable to keep his hands off my every curve. He planted a big kiss on me when the clock struck midnight and by the time we got home we were absolutely lusting for one another.

We stumbled into my bedroom still drunk and clumsily grabbing at each other's bodies. My shirt was already half off when I got out of the Uber and Jimmy yanked it all the way off the second we stepped foot indoors. I leaned in for a kiss but instead his mouth dropped below my shoulders and made contact with my navel. He licked and bit at the softness of my tummy. Sensing his desire I grabbed the back of his neck and pressed his face into my girth. It drove him wild.

By the time we were both completely naked I was surprised by how much Jimmy had rounded out the last few weeks. His six pack was now buried beneath a warm layer of chub that was especially pronounced when he bent over to suck on my cock. His ass had also fattened up nicely, bouncing and wobbling beneath the strength of my grip. The firmness of his glutes now served as the base for a couple inches of velvety soft cellulite I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into. Stocky thighs supported the spherical mass of his rump, undulating under our passionate fucking. I could not contain myself from simply ravishing him.

After we made love a touch of melancholy overcame me. With Jimmy curled in my arms I realized that tomorrow I would be hitting the gym again. I would be working cardio back into my routine and restricting my caloric intake. It was time to cut. Part of me didn’t want to relinquish the joy and eroticism of bulking; the very thing that had brought us together. What would become of our sex life that I so relished? I pushed these thoughts out of my head.I told myself it didn’t matter. The cut was as inevitable as the gain, I had to remember this.

As I lay in bed half heartedly attempting to hype myself up, my stomach began to growl.