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. 

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

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.