12/26/11

Mr. Cook Epilogue

Two years later I weighed 200 pounds. I had gone off to college and gained the freshman fifteen plus some. I finally felt like I had a presence when I walked into a room. My gut was soft and prominent and nobody seemed to notice or care. Living away from home made it easier too. I could binge late into the night and pass out, bloated and swollen.

I dated a few guys from school, but they were all the lean, muscled type. I longed for the days of my regular after school specials with Mr. Cook. By the time I graduated he was 280 pounds of jiggly, hairy, man and I got to enjoy every inch of it. We never discussed his weight but I’m sure he knew I enjoyed it. After our first time together he gained weight with absolutely no regard. Every week he looked ten pounds heavier. After one of his brightly colored button ups ripped during class while sitting down, he retired his old wardrobe and only wore skin tight polos to school. Unfortunately, after I graduated we just seemed to stop hooking up. Moved on, you know.
           
The grocery store. One of my favorite places. I walk down my regular aisles piling in fattening food, my gut pushed up against the handle bar of the cart. My parents pay for food so there’s no holding back. As much as I can cram down my throat I buy. The best part is everyone just looks at me like I’m a college student. I’ve yet to get the disapproving glances of a fat ass losing control. I turn into the pasta aisle and hear someone say my name. I look up and to my delight I see a wonderfully round belly facing me.

 “Hi. Do I know you?” I say.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “it’s me.. Mr. Cook?”

I know my pupils must have dilated at the sound of those words. This gorgeous fat man in front of me was my Mr. Cook? He had to be over 300 pounds now.

“Oh wow, you look great,” I stuttered.

His eyes were glowing as we exchanged compliments. After an awkward silence he invited me back to his place.

“Hey, you know I’m just picking up some stuff for dinner. Would you like to join me?”

And how could I say no to that?      

On the ride over we chatted a bit about school, life, and other things. Although, we both knew what this was really about. I was in awe of Mr. Cooks round, soft abdomen. With every bump in the road it wobbled. I couldn’t help but stare with a hungry look in my eyes. He knew that I was captivated and seemed to show off a little bit.

When we pulled into the driveway he looked at me and smiled. I couldn’t resist and leaned in for a kiss. I put one hand on his fleshy neck and the other on his ample belly. We separated and brought the groceries in.

Once inside, Mr. Cook began to make dinner. As he stood over a pan on the stove I couldn’t wait any longer and moved in for the kill. From behind, I slipped my hands into the fold of his under belly and began to kiss his neck. My own paunch squished firmly into his lower back and my cock was instantly hard. A store bought chocolate cake sat nearby. I flipped off the lid and grabbed a chunk of it in my hands. I crammed it into Mr. Cook’s mouth and he ate it ravenously.

He turned to face me and we made out. My body sank into his massive gut and I could feel a throbbing erection through his pants.  I began feeding him whatever was cooked and within arms length: cake, M&Ms, whipped cream, pasta. He sat on the counter with his belly spilling between his legs and resting on the counter top. I reached under it and unzipped his pants. Before long, his belly was smashed against my face as I sucked his dick. I stopped before he came and we moved to the bedroom. 

5/2/11

Slight Delay

The epilogue to Mr. Cook is coming! It's just still in the works. I'm sorry for the delay, but you can look forward to an extremely steamy reunion. Stay tuned!

4/25/11

Mr. Cook 7

Well, my wish surely came true. I was weighing in at about 174 pounds when we had a paper due for Mr. Cook’s class. I was confident in my writing abilities but tried extra hard to impress him. I stayed up all night working on it and was completely nervous when I turned it in. I could sense that this paper was important somehow. When Mr. Cook handed the graded papers back I was full of anxiety. When I got mine my stomach dropped, at the top of the paper was written “See Me.” I soon got butterflies.
            
After the bell rang I walked up to his desk and said, “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, pull up a chair,” he smiled, causing the unshaven hairs on his face to curl around his pink lips.
            
I was full of nervous excitement. When I sat down I caught a glimpse of his ample belly spilling over his jeans in a tight sweater. He rolled his chair closer to mine and I could smell the pastries he had eaten for lunch.
            
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re paper was great. Amazing, actually. In fact, I want to enter it into a state wide contest.”
            
“That’s great,” I said, trying to keep my thoughts tethered on the paper.
            
“It is, but first I think you need to revise some things. I’ll go through them now if you like.”
            
“Sure.”
            
As he began to talk I couldn’t help but notice how his belly slowly expanded every time he breathed. It looked so soft and delicious, sitting in his lap in one big lump. I soon realized I was staring and averted my eyes back to the paper, but Mr. Cook had stopped talking. We held eye contact for a few seconds and then he touched my chin. His warm hand brought my face to his and we kissed. His lips were soft and warm. We broke contact and looked back in each other’s eyes.
             
Simultaneously, we both let go of any inhibitions and began to make out. Our tongues more passionate and I soon climbed onto his lap. I could feel his soft stomach against the crotch of my jeans. He grabbed my ass and our bodies undulated against each other as our mouths began to explore other places. He pulled my shirt off and then I began to peel off his.
            
Finally, I could set my eyes on the rolls of soft flesh encumbering his torso. I dropped to my knees and began kissing and sucking his belly. I could feel the hairs of his stomach wet against my tongue. The lower I got the more he began to moan. My lips made contact with every crease of his underbelly. I could feel his dick warm and pulsing against his pants. I began to unbutton them when he stopped me.
            
He handed me the key to the door and I ran and locked it.
            
When I got back he stood up and we began to make out as we took off each other’s pants. In just our underwear he grabbed my ass and grinded his dick up against mine, all the while his warm fuzzy belly mashed against me. He soon had me pressed up against the edge of his desk. Finally, the foreplay was too much and we ripped off each other’s underwear and he turned me around.
            
I pressed my new soft and squishy ass against his crotch and he moaned. He hurried and slipped on a condom. Before I knew it he was inside me, my ass rammed up against his groin. I reached around and grabbed his butt and squeezed. I felt the soft cellulite bluge between my fingers and let out a moan.
            
He then bent over and grabbed me in a bear hug while still thrusting. His massive, jiggly gut sliding against the sweat on my back. He began jacking me off in sync with his thrusting. I felt surrounded by his soft skin and was in pure ecstasy. Occasionally I would feel his scruffy face kiss the inside of my neck.


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What does the future hold for these two well-padded mates? Next week we find out in the epilogue. 

4/18/11

Mr. Cook 6

My “close encounter” with Mr. Cook left me horny as all get out. I immediately headed for the locker room bathrooms to beat off. Once I got in the stall I grabbed my hand lotion from my backpack and went to town. Unexpectedly I heard the bathroom door open and someone walk in. I froze up and tried to be silent. They locked the door immediately. It had to be an administrator. As they walked to the other end of the room I got a glance through crack in the stall, it was the football coach. My quickly softening dick soon got hard again.
            
Let me take a moment to describe this guy, Coach Harding, to you. Ten years ago he was the quintessential x-jock: big, muscled, and with a hearty layer of fat. Currently, he is your quintessential fat ass and the butt of all jokes for rival teams. Harding probably weighs close to five hundred pounds. His belly sticks out farther than his arms. For years he had a massive ball gut but as of late it has been getting saggier and saggier, to the point where it occasionally hangs out of his shirt. And he always wobbles around campus with some sort of food in his hands. This type of fat is not what usually gets me going. I like a guy under four hundred pounds. But, whatever Harding was doing, I wasn’t gonna miss out.        
            
After locking both doors Harding pulled off his gym shorts. He walked over to a sink, rested his gut in it, put one hand leaning on the wall, and proceeded to do what I was in the middle of. He could barely reach around to his dick, but that didn’t stop him from trying hard. He was going at it so hard his whole body was jiggling ferociously. Every fat roll was soon glistening with sweat. Eventually I got to going in rhythm with his momentous thrusts. Every fold of his body was bouncing up ad down. Finally, his massive ass clenched and he came. I let myself go at the same time and splattered the stall door. He then cleaned up and just left, as did I. I guess we both just needed that afternoon delight. 
           
I got home that night and gorged myself; images of Mr. Cook dancing through my head. Having that warm belly of his pressed up against me was all the encouragement I needed.
            
For the next two weeks I kept with the gainer shakes. I would make them in secret every day and then guzzle them before bed. I gained eight more pounds and relished every inch of it. My jeans were finally getting tight and you could totally see my belly through t-shirts. I didn’t look fat by any means, just not a skeleton like I used to be. I also starting noticing more glances from girls when I was out, which is always an ego booster.
            
The next two weeks in school were particularly weird with Mr. Cook. We made eye contact constantly during the class. We both always looked away quickly, probably for different reasons. I was just nervous and awkward, but I could sense he was holding back because I was a student, despite the fact it would be legal. I knew he liked me, I was convinced of it, but didn’t know how to initiate anything.
            
By March I weighed almost 170 pounds, which is at the top of the healthy range for my height. It was clear I had put on weight and people were noticing. First, it was my parents. One day while I was stretched out on the couch my Mom walked by, pinched my belly, said “this is new,” and then just kept walking. Although it was awkward, I still took it as a huge compliment. During dinner the next night my dad said: “You’ve filled out, son. Looks good. You look like a man.”
            
Then, at school, my friends started playfully teasing me. They would grab my miniature love handles and make jokes about how I was “packin’ on the pounds.” I loved all the attention and made even more of an effort to put on weight. I wondered if Mr. Cook was noticing. I hoped he was. Of anybody, he was the person I wanted attention from the most.

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Next time our narrator gives into his impulses with Mr. Cook

4/14/11

Mr. Cook 5

By the time it was February Mr. Cook had put on a good deal more of weight. It was hard to tell how much because I saw him every day. But I could tell by clothes that used to fit, and now had stress marks, that he was still gaining. His body was getting flabbier and soft rolls were forming at place that had once been flat. Mr. Cook was now a man that lead with his belly. Not the type that lumbered down the hallway with a beach ball in his shirt, but the type that looked soft, like whenever he got a Starbucks, he got a pastry too. Not a behemoth of a man, just someone who looked comfortable. 
            
For Valentine’s Day my friend, Jenny, and I had to deliver boxes of chocolates to all the teachers, and you know what was on my mind. We had to do deliver them during lunch hour and we went to every staff as a pair, crossing off each name until we came to the ever hungry Mr. Cook. I was excited in more ways than one and tried to keep from getting hard. When we opened Mr. Cook’s door all bets were off.
            
He sat there with a spread of food fit for a fat man: sandwich, chips, two kinds of pastries, a coffee, and a soda. He looked up from his feast and smiled when he saw the box of chocolates.
           
“Are those for me?”
            
“Yep,” we said in unison.
            
He stood up, wiped his mouth and said, “Well, you know I like chocolate.” He then slapped his belly and gave it a little rub.
            
We walked over to his desk and handed him the box. He thanked us and we turned to walk out.
            
“Hey, wait,” he muttered.
            
“Uh, do either of you know how to tie a tie? It’s embarrassing but I spilled my coffee and took it off to clean it. Sadly, I don’t know how to get it back on.” His sheepish grin mad his cheeks look fatter
            
“I do,” I said, and walked over. The bell rang and Jenny left to deliver the last two boxes. I was left alone in the room with my dream man.
          
  “I usually just leave them tied so I don’t have this problem,” he said
           
“It’s no problem,” I smiled.
            
I grabbed the tie and moved in close. I could smell the coffee and sandwich on him. I looped it through his collar. The creamy, stubbled, skin of his neck was soft as I maneuvered around it. I could feel his breath slightly on my forehead. I leaned in closer to see what I was doing and felt his belly slightly brush against mine. I was instantly hard. After that I swear he moved in closer. His soft gut now made constant contact with mine. It's rounded form soft against my smaller body.I was so hard and hoped he couldn’t sense it. Looking back I’m sure he could, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.
            
When I finished I wished I had gone slower, savored the moment, his breath, his smell, the feel of his healthy paunch up against mine. I stepped back and tried to conceal my raging hard on.
           
“There, you look good,” I couldn’t believe I just said that.
            
His eyes twinkled. “Thank you,” he said.
           
“No problem. See you Monday.”
          
I turned and headed for the door. I could feel him still staring at me, checking me out. I quickly came to appreciate my newly formed ass and I tried my hardest to work it. I opened the door and before I stepped out I glanced back. He was standing in the same spot and we locked eyes. He quickly looked away and went back to his desk, his belly jiggling all the way.


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Next week our narrator gets a free show of a very ample belly.

3/28/11

Mr. Cook 4

I now weighed 146. I had calculated how many calories I would need to gain 2 pounds a week and quickly got underway eating. It was hard, but I forced myself to reach my goal every day. By the time I went to bed every night my stomach was taught and distended. After two weeks of this two pound diet I only gained a little over three pounds, which was discouraging. But then fate intervened.
           
My parents had planned a romantic getaway to Mexico and I would be home alone for a week. This meant two things: extra money to blow on fatty foods, and a chance to begin taking gainer shakes. When I heard the news I promptly ordered ten pounds of a gainer powder to be delivered by the time they were gone.
            
When my week alone started, I took it easy on the gainer shakes. I didn’t want to shock my body. But once I got used to it, boy was I going overboard. I would eat my usual 3,000 calories but sometimes with the gainer shakes I could add almost 3,000 more calories on to that.
            
Throughout the week I could feel my body getting softer. I promised myself I would wait until my parents got back to weigh in, but I knew I was gaining weight. My belly definitely felt flabbier. I could pinch a good roll on it now. And even though I wasn’t yet, I really felt like a cow sitting down. I would try on my tightest jeans just to watch my belly spill over the waist. I was enjoying myself so much that I was masturbating constantly.
            
The last two days were doozies. I skipped breakfast to slow my metabolism down and in turn convert subsequent meals into fat.  For lunch I would eat a whole box of pasta. This was really difficult, so I ate it plain and drank water to make it go down quicker. When I was done I could feel a huge lump of food sitting in my gut. Next, for dinner I had a whole pepperoni pizza to myself. By the time I went to bed I still felt stretched to the max, but that didn’t stop me from drinking exactly 3,500 calories of gainer shake. After all that guzzling I promptly passed out. I couldn’t wait for that creamy shake turn into gooey fat. I analogized my body as a pole people stuck gobs of gum to, except I was adding gobs of fat.
            
The morning of my parents’ arrival I quickly jumped on the scale before they got home. The digital numbers started flashing and I got butterflies. Finally my weight appeared on the screen. 155. I had gained nine pounds in a week! I couldn’t believe it. I quickly ran to the mirror to check myself out.
            
My belly had definitely acquired a good layer of fat. A coating of flub covered my abs. It looked like someone had taken a small chair cushion and sewn it onto my front side. This was amazing, and certainly made me horny, but what really got me going was my ass. Never before had my ass looked so plump. It wasn’t extraordinarily large, but substantial. I grabbed it and felt the skin protrude between my fingers. I could surely fill out a pair of jeans now. 

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Next week our narrator gets up close and personal with the object of his desire. 

3/21/11

Mr. Cook 3

Boy was I itching to see Mr. Cook on my first day back to school. My dick could hardly contain itself. I was the third one in class and Mr. Cook was seated behind his desk. His face looked softer- puffier, I thought. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Finally, when the bell rang, Mr. Cook got up from his seat. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

His gut looked insanely huge, at least compared to before. He had to of put on ten maybe even twenty pounds.  I couldn’t believe it. Before, if anyone saw this man they would think he put on some weight recently. Maybe he skipped a few days at the gym, no big deal. But now, Mr. Cook looked fat. Not obese, or extremely overweight, just chubby. Like a man that enjoyed his food.
            
His stomach looked prominent and soft. It stood over his waist line noticeably. A red sweater stretched over it. A Christmas present probably, from a family member who last saw him maybe thirty pounds ago when he wore a small. I loved fat men in sweaters and my cock was growing along my right thigh. The worm pulse of it only turned me on more. The space that was previously flat between his belly and pecs was now all fat. His face had filled out and his stubbly adams apple had almost vanished. I wanted to kiss the new, soft, creamy, skin around his neck.
            
Mr. Cook walked in front of the class. I couldn’t even tell you what he was saying because I was so entranced by his belly. I hoped he wouldn’t notice me eye-raping his glorious paunch. I hoped he wouldn’t be self conscious and start going to the gym. I looked away for a second but didn’t have the will power for much longer.
            
While talking, Mr. Cook walked over and sat on the top of an empty desk. He put his foot up on the chair of another desk. I could barely handle this new pose. His belly looked even wider and flabbier when he sat down. The sweater hugged every roll and I could even see the outline of his belly button. Love handles flared out at his hips. Those pants had to be so tight, especially how he was sitting. His legs were spread eagle almost. His package was on display for the whole class. Anyone could see the rounded edges of crotch bulging at the seams. I swear if I looked hard enough I could see the outline of his cock. His healthy thighs were quickly closing in on that juicy package. I just wanted to run forward and suck and kiss every part of Mr. Cook’s body.
            
When finished talking, he stood up and walked to his desk. I got a glorious view of his ass. Each cheek bulged as he took a step. There was even a little patch of lower back exposed where the sweater and pants didn’t meet. When Mr. Cook sat back down in his chair it creaked. Everyone started on an assignment and I had no clue what was going on. I had to ask my neighbor and then got underway.
            
Midway through class another teacher came in with a piece of holiday cake. She offered it to Mr. Cook who leaned back in his chair, chin sinking into fat, and gladly accepted. I couldn’t wait to see this newly christened chubster pig out on something. And boy did he pig out. I swear that cake was gone in less than minute. When he was done, he even slid a finger along the plate and licked it. It didn’t look like Mr. Cook would be losing weight anytime soon.
            
The bell rang and everyone packed up and stacked their assignments on Mr. Cooks desk. I was the last one done and was excited to get a close up of the flab. When I reached his desk, I swear Mr. Cook was showing off to me. He leaned back with his hands behind his head and his legs spread. All the goods on display. I panicked and tried not to make crotch, belly, or eye contact. I didn’t say a word and turned around and left. But not without taking a glance at his package. You could see the outline of his dick.

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Next week our narrator begins to get softer and softer.

3/14/11

Mr. Cook 2

Over winter break I tried my hardest to gain some weight myself. My parents always keep cookies and pies stocked during this time of year, so I gorged as much as I could. I am six foot and only 140 pounds. I have a hard time stuffing myself, but I do. I just keep images of protruding bellies floating through my head with every bite.
            
Whenever I was alone I would make a milk shake to drink before I went to bed. I loaded it with ice cream, chocolate bars, whipped cream, and any other high calorie food I could find. I didn’t weigh myself at all and was hoping that these were doing the trick. I tried to eat pizza, a whole pizza, as often as I could without looking suspicious. I would even occasionally sneak beers before bed.
            
Often times I would find myself day dreaming about Mr. Cook. Whenever I pictured his body and belly I would get all worked up. I often thought about how much he gained just from the beginning of the year, which would keep me focused on my belly.
            
On Christmas Eve my Dad’s overweight friend, Paul, came over to drop off a present. My parents invited him inside and he stayed for a bit. Paul’s belly was huge and completely circular. His polo shirt was pulled taught over his beach ball of a gut and dark chest hair poked from the collar. He ate some cheese and crackers we had but didn’t pig out, which was disappointing. Although, every time he laughed he would slap his belly which would jiggle just a little bit.
            
I had to use the bathroom about halfway through the night and headed for the one in the guestroom. The hall to get there is pretty tight and to my immense joy, Paul was heading towards me. When we got next to each other he said “excuse me” and turned sideways, as did I. When we passed, the flesh of his massive gut pressed me against the wall. For about two seconds I could barely move, nor did I want to.
            
“Gotta lose some weight,” he said.
            
I patted his rounded belly and said, “It suits you.”When I got to the bathroom I had a major hard on and had to relieve myself.
            
Before I went back to school in January I weighed myself. I had gained six pounds. It wasn’t a lot, nor was it even noticeable to anyone else but me. But oh did I love it. I could feel the small pad of blubber that had formed on my tummy. I relished every inch of it. It turned me on so much and encouraged me to eat more and more. I had a small portion of what Mr. Cook had, and a miniscule portion of what Paul had. But at least I knew what it felt like; soft and malleable. I wanted to multiply this six pounds by another six. Maybe then my family would notice.

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Next week our narrator gets to see Mr. Cook's ample winter gains, and the teacher scarfs down some fattening food.

3/7/11

Mr. Cook 1

It was the last day before winter break and everyone in class was anxious. It amazed me how my twelfth grade peers still acted when it came close to break. But I never could relate to people my own age. The reason I was anxious was because this was history class, with Mr. Cook. To say I have a thing for Mr. Cook would be an understatement. He is, quite frankly, the hottest man in this whole town.

He’s tall, six foot one, maybe. His hair is dark and his skin is pale. He always has a bit of five o’clock shadow and, as of late, a burgeoning paunch. It’s so cute really, his belly that is. It just puffs out above his waistline. It goes out a couple inches and then quickly tapers back to his flat chest. Mr. Cook is young, in his twenties, and this belly of his is surely a new asset. I let my mind run wild with stories of how he was fit in college and has now become sedentary. The girls used to fawn over him, but lately he’s been packing on the pounds, his pants growing tighter. And what’s even better, is that he seems kind of gay. Not flamboyant or anything, he’s very quiet, but sometimes he dresses so in only the way a gay man would. Sometimes he’ll wear lime green button ups with rolled up cuffs that are bright pink underneath, and the rest of the time he’ll wear black or grey generic articles.

But the sexiest thing he wears is a skin tight under armor shirt. That shirt has provided the best bits of masturbation fodder in my life. The following story I’ve imprinted in my memory:

It was the first Friday of September, meaning the teachers could dress casually. Mr. Cook decided to wear his under armor shirt, with nothing over it. In class that day we were taking notes. Mr. Cook would write them on the board and we’d copy them down.  Every time he had to reach to write something the shirt would ride up just a little. I stared and stared praying for it rise up just a little bit more. Finally, the heavens intervened.

A poster from above the white board came unpinned and fell to the ground. Mr. Cook finished the notes and then proceeded to post it back up. He stood on a chair and reached as high as he could to pin the poster down. When he did so, the shirt rose to just above his belly button. The whole class could see his burgeoning little belly. The dark hair of his happy trail stood out against his light skin. I could see small hairs covering the rest of his belly. When he bent over to step down another fat roll formed and his belly button became wider than it was tall. His belly jiggled a little bit as his foot hit the ground. After noticing his exposed gut, Mr. Cook stretched the shirt back down over it. My dick was hard as a rock and pulsing against my thigh.

That was two months ago and Mr. Cook had to have put on fifteen pounds since then. It was hard to tell now that he was buried under layers of winter clothing. When the bell rang he began to pass out our papers. When he handed me mine it was all I could do not to rip his clothes off. When he turned around I discovered he had an amazing ass. How had I not noticed this before? It was plump and round, the cotton of his slacks were pulled taught. You could see the lines of his boxer briefs through them. I tried not to leer in case any class mate saw me, but it was difficult. From across the room I could see how the V of his back pointed to distinguished, fleshy butt cheeks. When he put his weight onto one leg, his fat ass cheek rounded into a perfect sphere. You wouldn’t believe how much I wanted to squeeze those bare cheeks in the palm of my hand.



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Next week our narrator begins experimenting with his own weight gain and then has a run in with an ample belly.

2/20/11

Introduction

Hello all. I have decided to start a blog for the gaining stories I write. I have always been a fan of reading gainer fiction and have recently started to dabble in it myself. And since the whole point of creating is to share it with people, this blog was born.

All of the stories I will be posting involve gay men, sorry ladies. The majority of the stories will have multiple parts or chapters. I will post a new part every week on Monday, starting next week. I would love to hear from anyone who reads my stories so please feel free to leave a comment.

The first story will be called Mr. Cook and involves a student and his ever widening teacher. It has 8 chapters and an epilogue. Things start out a little tame but get hotter and heavier as time goes on. Stay tuned for next Monday!