Southern Comfort: Chapter 3

Earl Munch gripped the railing as he slowly trodded up the stairs, pausing to catch his breath periodically. He was growing larger by the day and since the beginning of November was deeply struggling with basic mobility. The economic fallout from the coronavirus was disastrous for the family’s finances, and Earl shouldered the brunt of this causing him to stress eat nonstop. With each passing month he was becoming increasingly worried they would have to sell the house, and with Thanksgiving behind them and Christmas fast approaching he kept this worry to himself. 

Max sat on a chaise lounge on the first floor listening to his father’s heavy steps. He worried for his health. Max had never seen his father so large or look so altogether unwell. He didn’t know what to do or say about the situation, though. Max himself had gained a considerable amount of weight and he felt like a hypocrite commenting on anyone else’s body. 

Since September, Max had been teaching English online. This certainly wasn’t any sort of cash cow, but it was better than nothing. Plus, he could work from the comfort of home. The only caveat to this was that he was even more sedentary than usual. Currently, he reclined in a luxurious chaise lounge in the family’s formal living room sipping a latte and chomping on a cupcake, his laptop resting on the sloping curve of his belly that spread out decadently before him. 

In the last few months his gut was growing at breakneck speed. His mother and Moira had gone into baking overdrive for the holidays and it was hard to resist the tasty treats while living and working in a home that constantly smelled of baked goods. But to be fair, Max didn’t try very hard to resist. He was constantly munching on something delectable and calorie dense. Every time he had to use the restroom he’d take the opportunity to pile a tray high with treats to bring back to his work station. 

As a result, he’d grown out of every pair of jeans he owned. He bought one replacement pair, but for the most part lived in sweatpants around the house. Lately, even those were getting stretched pretty thin. To save money, Max was still squeezing into his old shirts if it all possible. Sometimes they left his overhang exposed, but he didn’t worry about it. He was around family after all. 

If Max was being honest, the stairs were becoming treacherous even for himself. His entire body was now encased in fat. He was pudgy in places he never realized could get pudgy, like his joints and neck and toes, and this was beginning to seriously limit the full range of motions he could perform. Bending over to tie his shoes was such a difficult task that he avoided going outside. Even scratching himself and cleaning his body required new approaches. Most of all, sex with Clein had fundamentally changed as the two became lazier and larger. Lately, Max laid on his back during sex as anything else was too taxing. 

Clein, on the other hand, was both more fit and more fat than ever. Since Jacob had busted his knee all the yardwork had fallen onto Clein and he was working overtime. With the encouragement of his online following he began drinking daily protein shakes and upping his calorie intake. Needless to say, he bulked up incredibly fast. Just under a year ago Clein looked pale and underfed, accentuating his boniness for the delight of other men. The fashionable clothes that once hung from his body like a hanger were not even manufactured in sizes large enough to fit his new body. The wispy Brooklyn hipster from a year ago had become a tanned and hulking beast of a man. 

Over the summer, Clein’s modest paunch refused to grow at the same rate as his throbbing musculature. It wasn’t until fall and winter came that the young man really started bulking up. With little to no yard work to be done he was finding himself spending more and more time lazing around the house, the house that was filled with tempting pastries and Southern comfort food. At first, Clein felt a little cooped up and compensated by pouring all of his efforts into his rapidly growing online persona. By the end of November, Clein was bringing in more money than his boyfriend. He was also spending a good chunk of each day setting up increasingly elaborate photo and video shoots.

While Max swallowed his third danish of the hour and Earl continued his neverending trek up the stairs, Clein was in the formal dining room with all the doors locked. A tripod sat at one of the room facing the dining table which was curated with heaps of delicious pastries. Per the suggestion of one of his followers, Clein did a variety of pin up poses while holding or biting the deserts. 

The poses intentionally displayed the fullness of his figure. He would arch his back accentuating the tub of fat hanging from his belly and the roundness of his rear. In some poses he bent his legs to show off the girth of his thighs and the plumpness around his groin. Multiple shots featured his ass prominently, which was undeniably his biggest asset both literally and figuratively. All the while he ate pastry after pastry, becoming increasingly bloated. He also kept his phone recording a video of the entire shoot so he could cut it into clips later. 

By the time Clein was finished, he was surprised by just how much he had eaten. He hadn’t planned on pigging out that much. He deconstructed his set and, with a distended stomach filled with creamy delights, sought out his boyfriend. 

Earl was just making it to the top of the stairs when Clein found Max passed out, pastry crumbs covering his belly and face. Clein gently set Max’s laptop aside and softly saddled himself atop his sleeping love. With his crotch mashed against his lover’s gooey belly, he grabbed Max’s hands and placed them on his rear while softly grinding back and forth. Max stirred from his sleep and tried to sit up to kiss his boyfriend, but his belly was in the way. Noticing this, Clein bent over and kissed him long and hard, their fattened bodies mashed against one another. 

“Moira’s taking the night off,” Clein said. “Why don’t we help your mom in the kitchen?”

Max agreed and the couple spent the next two hours preparing a lavish spread for the family. They set the table and beckoned their loved ones. Earl had been taking a nap when he was awakened by Max and refused to join for dinner, saying he wasn’t hungry. Jacob had also been napping, but was rearing and ready to go. He hobbled to the dining room in his crutches, causing his shirt to ride up to reveal the fresh slab of fat now hanging from his stomach. 

Ever since Jacob injured himself the weight just seemed to pile on. His appetite was quite large from all the yard work and strength training he used to perform, but these days he spent most of his time in bed. Crutches are especially difficult when your body is weighed down with excess chub, so Jacob typically opted for the soft coziness of his bed. Moira would bring his meals and the boys would come visit while Jacob rode out his injury inhaling food and watching movies. Everyone knew how proud he had been of his body and how much effort he invested in working out, so no one spoke of his weight gain despite how obvious it was. 

The dinner was a success, as always. Everyone at the table cleaned their plates and went back for seconds and thirds. Eating had become a sort of communion for the family, bringing them all together and providing a distraction from their economic woes. As each of their waistlines swelled with fat, their hearts swelled with love. The threat of ill health was ever present due to Earl, but no one spoke of their collective weight gain. There was a silent and mutual understanding that they may be fat but they were also happy. 

After dinner, Eleanor fixed a plate for her husband and headed upstairs. As Max and Clein crawled into bed together, ready to make love, they heard a bloodcurdling scream. They ran to the master bedroom to find Eleanor in a state of shock. Her husband was dead.