Bed and Breakfast - Part 2

For dinner, I wore a nice button up and some jeans that made my ass look amazing. The idea was to make Ryan hungry for something else besides food.  As I walked downstairs my stomach began to growl from all the food smells floating through the house. By the time I entered the dining room I was practically salivating, but my hunger quickly dissipated when I opened the door. The dining room was by far the most exquisite part of the house. It was lavishly decorated and looked like something straight out of a civil war movie. The room was extremely posh for such an old and relatively small house. The only other guest had already arrived and was seated. He was thin and not too attractive in the face, but seemed like a nice guy. I took a seat and Marcie joined us shortly after. The food would be ready in a few minutes, she told us. We began to chat and in the midst of small talk, Ryan walked in. He was a sight to behold. He wore essentially the same outfit as me, but his shirt was tucked in. A mound of fat hung suspended over the front of his pants. With each step you could see a jiggle reverberate throughout his entire body, but it was especially noticeable right below the belly button. His jeans fit snug, especially in the thigh. I wondered how he could sit down without them ripping. Much to my delight, he chose the seat right next to me. The chair creaked as he relaxed into it.

He greeted me warmly and there was immediately a palpable electricity in the air. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone and I could see his dark chest hair poking out. We exchanged a few words on how plush the surroundings were before he leaned back with one hand on his belly and said:

“Where’s the food? I’m hungry.”

No sooner had those words escaped Ryan’s mouth than the first dish came out. The chef, a very fit and attractive guy named Brad, served us. He announced that this would be a four course meal and we were beginning with fried mozzarella balls as appetizers. Everyone quickly dug in and the conversation drifted from the history of the inn to our personal back stories.

We learned that the third guest was named Brandon and he worked in marketing. He was in Mississippi on business and would only be at the inn for a couple more nights. Altogether, Brandon was somewhat boring and my attention kept drifting to Ryan’s appetite. He was popping those mozzarella balls like they were candy. He must have eaten about half the plate himself before then the chef came out with more. It was very clear how Ryan had developed such an immense gut, and he didn’t seem to mind if anyone noticed.

I found myself wanting to keep up with Ryan, but it was impossible. I was already getting full and the second course hadn’t even arrived yet. Eventually, the conversation became focused on myself and what I was doing at the inn. They were fascinated to hear that I was a writer, and successfully making a living off of it. Marcie in particular was quite giddy that a successful writer was working on something in her inn. I was relieved when the soup arrived and I was no longer the subject of everyone’s attention.

It was a clam chowder that was almost as thick as ice cream. Absolutely delicious, I didn’t have a problem keeping up with Ryan. I paid no attention to my tightening belt as I spooned in heap after heap of chowder into my mouth. It wasn’t long before Ryan noticed by voracious appetite. We made slight eye contact and with a mischievous grin, he picked up the pace. My imaginary eating contest had become more of a reality as the two of us crouched over our bowls and began to inhale the food.

“Wow, it looks like Ryan isn’t the only boy at the table with a big appetite,” Marcie exclaimed as we took our last bite.

“Well, I don’t know about slim over here,” Ryan began, “But I could go for another round of this chowder.”

Like magic, the chef appeared with another steaming bowl. Not to be outdone, I requested one as well.

“Would it be terribly uncouth of me to suggest an eating contest at my own inn?” Marcy asked. “And the winner gets… the winner gets breakfast in bed tomorrow morning!”

Ryan and I agreed with big smiles. Brandon, seemingly disgusted, declined to join. Marcy counted to three and we dug in. I knew I wouldn’t win but couldn’t turn down such an erotic proposition. As I shoveled in spoonful after spoonful my dick grew rock solid, pulling at the leg of my jeans. I was barely halfway through when Ryan banged the table and declared his victory. Marcie cheered like a mad woman. As our plates were cleared, Ryan leaned back with his hands behind his head, his massive round stomach on display for all to see.

“No worries champ, you never stood a chance,” he said, placing a meaty hand on my inner thigh and pulsing cock. He gave me a hard squeeze and added: “You might need to unbutton those pants.”

Bed and Breakfast - Part 1

I decided to drive down to Mississippi to work on my writing. I needed a change of scenery and a southern bed and breakfast sounded like the place to do it. At twenty eight I finally was financially stable and I felt like I deserved this small trip. I also had noticed a recent change in my metabolism, and I wanted to explore that somewhat. Like most men my age, all the junk food I was used to consuming began to stick. After about ten pounds that went straight to my gut, I weighed about 165. Having always been a chubby chaser, I’d fantasized about my own weight gain but could never stick with it. Now seemed like the time, and a southern inn with free breakfast sounded perfect.

I arrived at the Little Brick Inn around two o’clock. The summer heat mixed with the humidity was practically unbearable. Just the walk from my car to front desk left my shirt soaked. The owner of Bed & Breakfast, Marcie, checked me in. She was very sweet and very large. There were only three rooms in the house and according to Marcie, mine had the best view. Boy was she right. My window overlooked the small pool in the backyard. Beyond that were the woods and a few other old looking houses. But the best part was the giant hunk of man lying shirtless by the pool. He had on a pair of skin tight, brightly colored, swim trunks that were not made for men of his size. He looked to be about 250 pounds and if those trunks were any indication, gay.

I quickly changed into a pair of shorts and headed down there. If he played for my team, then this little trip could be even better than expected. I got down to the pool and could see that he was sitting up in his lounge chair. As I got closer I was delighted with the vision that greeted me. First, I had underestimated his weight. This guy was at least 300 pounds, if not more. Second, he was putting sun screen on.

“Hey there,” he said. I was elated, I could tell from his voice he was definitely gay.

“Hiya, you a guest here?” I asked. His bare stomach filled his lap so you could hardly even tell he had a swimsuit on.

“I certainly am and you?”

I replied that I was and what he said next left me gobsmacked.

“Can you rub some of this on my lower back?”

Shocked and aroused, I quickly said yes. I started in the middle of his back, but he kept directing me to go further and further out. Before I knew it, I was caressing this man’s ample love handles. I was hard as a rock and didn’t know what to do.

“I didn’t catch your name?” he asked.

“I’m Alex, nice to meet you.”

“That’s a nice name. I’m Ryan. And I’m very happy to meet you.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just continued to knead the fat of his back. His love handles were soft but firm, bulging out a good three inches over his waist band. I stopped when I felt I could no longer keep this up without blowing a load and moved to a new chair. I tried to hide my erection, but it was difficult. He thanked me and leaned back. His massive gut lifted off his lap with this motion to reveal a considerable bulge in his swim trunks. I was impressed and somewhat surprised. Was he hard? After a few moments, I realized I was ogling and blurted out that I should go unpack.

“Will I see you at dinner?” he asked with a flirty grin.

I glanced at his gut and said: “Certainly.”

The second I got back to my room I wacked off. This man, Ryan, was the stuff dreams are made of. Well, at least wet dreams. I couldn’t believe my luck; one of the guests not only had the chubby body of my fantasies, but also was gay and extremely flirtatious. I wondered if he could sense that I liked big guys? I’d barely said anything before he had me caressing the rolls of fat perched above his swimsuit. The B&B served dinner and I couldn’t to see how things would develop between us come mealtime. Plus, I had a dire hankering to see just how much food that stomach of his could put away. A man doesn’t get to that size from eating conservatively. And hey, I wanted to stuff my own face too- that’s part of the reason I came, right?

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. 

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!

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.