The Houseboy: Chapter 1

I arrived at Darius’ place in the evening with only a suitcase as he had the rest of my belongings professionally moved. I was exhausted, hungry, and filled with uncertainty about embarking on this new chapter. To my great delight, Darius had pizzas with my favorite toppings, veggie with pepperoni, and two bottles of red wine waiting for me when I arrived. I dropped my stuff in his palatial bedroom and joined him in the kitchen for our meal. 

His place was smaller than I imagined, though it was impeccable decorated with luxe furnishings and appliances. I’d soon learn that by San Francisco standards his apartment was actually quite large and that only people of a certain economic status had access to such homes. This was a far cry from the humble apartment I shared with my body fascist ex, Andrew. While I took in the beauty of my new home, Darius poured me a glass of wine, opened a box of pizza, and stared at me expectantly.

“This one’s for you,” he pushed the box towards me, “and this one is for me,” he said as he opened the second box. “Same with the wine— a bottle for each of us.” I think he could sense my surprise and continued, “We eat big and live well in this house, Dylan. Welcome home.”

We shared a slow and sensuous kiss before chowing down on our respective pizzas. Over pizza we had an intimate conversation about my feelings leaving my old life behind, with Darius being extremely understanding and supportive. I felt lucky to have met him. We got lost in conversation and before I knew it Darius’ pizza had disappeared. He let out a belch and gripped his mountainous gut.

“You better catch up, little one.”

I looked down at my pizza and only half was gone. This was a lot of food for me and my relatively flat  tummy was already stuffed tight as a drum. Darius’ brazen display of gluttony left me lustful, not for more pizza but for his body. I noticed that although he had eaten more pizza, I had downed considerably more wine.

“Let me help,” Darius cooed and leaned in close to me.

He held up a slice to my lips and I took an audaciously large bite that I immediately regretted. After gulping it down he motioned for me to take another. I was more conservative this time around, and by the time I swallowed his lips were upon mine. What began as a soft kiss quickly escalated to passionately making out. Our hands and faces, greasy with pizza, rabidly explored one another’s bodies. It didn’t take long before we were covered in sweat and ripping off one another’s clothes. 

In a slick maneuver he boosted me onto the kitchen counter facing him as he stood. My slender thighs were spread wide to accommodate his prodigious belly that was now resting between them on top of the marble countertop. My cock was sandwiched between my lean torso and his convex one. He knew precisely how to subtly jiggle his gut to jerk me off without any hands. This drove me wild and in drunken ecstasy I emitted moans that probably would have embarrassed my sober self. 

The foreplay continued for a few minutes before I was laying with my back on the counter and he was eating my ass as ferociously as he did the pizza. Eventually his girthy uncut cock was inside me, pounding at my prostate. This man was talented when it came to sex, pinning down my arms so I couldn’t touch myself and jerking me off with the wobble of his luscious underbelly.

The difference in our size drove me bonkers. He let go of my arms and I clung to his beefy frame. I probably looked like a small animal clinging to a larger creature for dear life. It felt as though I was completely immersed in him; his giant cock pulsing inside me, his fat enveloping my scrawny limbs. I wouldn’t have been surprised if his orgasm sent come pulsing through my body and exploding out of my mouth. 

I was his, and I would let him do with me as he pleased; fatten me up like a prized hog and breed my holes so I was constantly filled with food and jizz. It didn’t take long, maybe only fifteen minutes, before we both had momentous orgasms. I laid exhausted on the kitchen counter, covered in my own come. Darius picked up a slice of pizza and dragged it across my chest, collecting part of my load and leaving a trail of yellow grease behind. He stared me straight in the eyes as he took a massive bite from the slice and then held it up to my lips.

“In this house, my boy doesn’t go to bed until he polishes his plate…” Darius grunted while I stared at him expectantly. “But you’re still small, so Daddy will help you out,” he finished and took another bite of the pizza.

It wasn’t easy, but we did indeed finish the entirety of my pizza and both bottles of wine. I was so uncomfortably full I doubted my ability to fall asleep. I expressed this and Darius had just the solution. We smoked a blunt and curled up in each other’s arms watching a cooking show. Completely relaxed and cozy within his arms, quickly drifted off to sleep.