Finally a fat boyfriend

Finally a fat boyfriend

It all started one Saturday night when my dad asked me if I’d like to go to with him to an all-you-can-eat buffet. Now, my dad is a big guy, who likes to eat, and probably thanks to him I’ve always been attracted to fatter guys, and guys eating, ever since childhood. At his mention of the buffet, I felt aroused - just the possibility of seeing men gorging turned me on - but nothing prepared me for what I was about to see and experience.

I was an 18 year-old girl who adored big, fat, hungry guys - especially the biggest, the hungriest, those citadels of avoirdupois, the supersized guys. I fantasized about fat guys all the time –– about having a substantially obese guy for a boyfriend, one who was big, liked being being big, and wanted to get bigger, so I could feed them, love him, kiss him, feed him again, fondle him, help him gain massive amounts of weight, and watch him GROW(!) into a monumentally and magnificently obese boyfriend.

I had had a few fat boyfriends, but as soon as they discovered I wanted them bigger, they would dump me. None of them seemed to “get” just how attractive they were....

Dad and I arrived at the buffet, got seated and started to eat. There were a few chubby boys eating, but no really fat ones. After a while, a slender woman came into the place, took a good look around and hurried out. Then she opened the door and held it open as if she was waiting for someone to come in, and she was –– a huge man followed her into the buffet, so blubbery that he seemed to bounce rather than walk; I guessed that he weighed more than 600 pounds. He waddled labouriously in, followed - my heart leaped - by a teenage boy - an amazingly big, massively handsome boy who seemed to be about my age.

The teen had blond cropped hair, lightly tanned skin, clear grey-blue eyes and he was FAT. Boy was he fat - he had to be at least 400 lbs! He wore a brilliant yellow polo shirt that clung to his thick, fat arms and stretched tautly across his inflated belly. His enormous faded jeans fit snugly, curving dramatically underneath his outrageously fat belly and stretched tightly across his thick legs as he waddled in after his father.

As they reached a table, the woman said to him in a motherly tone: “Honey, you wore jeans to a buffet!? We've already talked about this! They squeeze your capacity!”

“Don't worry mom, I'll unzip 'em later on.”

I was blown out of the water! I was immediately enamoured. I couldn't take my eyes off him, this fat teenage god. I was beguiled, imagining him stuffing his fat body, growing to his father's sensational size - and beyond.

The father and son both struggled to get into a big booth, and when they were finally seated, the father said, “Jane, release my belt and unzip my pants. Tonight I'm really gonna gorge!”

The mother was obviously content and did as he asked. Then the son said he would unzip later on, because he wanted to feel the pressure first.

I was sure I was dreaming –– it was like something out of my fantasies……the mom was definitely a feeder and the father and son feedees.

The mom eagerly got to “work” and started bringing full plates of everything. She didn't sit to eat herself until there was no place on the table. I was focussed on the boy –– he hungrily started to eat. Eat was I saying? Better say gorge! The boy seemed obsessed –– he took huge amounts and shoved them into his greedy mouth. His face told how much he enjoyed it. And the odd glance I gave to his father told me that his gluttony ran in his family - at least on the male side. The mother kept encouraging them, flattering their appetites and bringing them more - and more.

Every once in a while, the boy or the father would say, ”more of the pasta and this time more meatballs!,” “more potatoes!,” “more cream!,” “more steaks!”

They ate very quickly, and I guessed some of the other diners present were disgusted by their gluttonous show. I noticed that the boy's shirt, snug to begin with, was getting tighter and tighter. Finally, the boy asked for help with unzipping his pants - past his huge belly, he could hardly reach the zipper. The sight of the spilling flab of his belly was really unforgettable. He pulled up the shirt a bit, exposing yet more blubber and said: “Mom, tonight I'm gonna surpass dad!”

The father had a “yeah right” look, and the mom seemed surprised as well.

“I don't think anyone can polish off more than him……but you can give it a shot,” she said.

The boy, excited by his own challenge, seemed to double his speed of eating. The mother kept bringing more and more food, and she clearly focussed on the more fattening dishes.

The boy was fanatical about shovelling in the food - and he also made quite a mess, with many food stains on his clothes. I couldn't believe how much he was consuming, and I imagined it all turning into attractive fat on his ballooning body.

Then, too soon, my dad was finished and it was time for us to go. Dad said to me as we got up from the table, “You were really quiet tonight, were you day-dreaming again?””

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

We went back home, but I knew I couldn't let this opportunity slip away. I grabbed the keys to my little car and quickly returned to the buffet. This time I chose a different table, where I had a clear view of the gorgeous gorging teen. Luckily, but not surprisingly, he and his dad were still pigging out- well, more correctly, the boy was still gorging, and his belly seemed much more bloated. His father was still eating, but at a slowing pace, and he seemed to be spending more and more time watching his rapacious son shovelling it in.

Finally the boy said: “Mom, I am so stuffed! I outdid dad!” He paused, and my heart sank slightly. He hadn’t even touched the sweets section yet. I perked up considerably as he continued, “Let's go for dessert!”

While the mother went to bring desserts, he lifted the shirt more and rubbed his bloated belly. He was obviously excited. And then, he caught me staring. I was afraid he'd think it was a pity or a disgust look, so I warmly smiled. He seemed surprised at my smile and then smiled back a bit embarrassed.

He ate everything his mom brought him from the dessert section –– ice creams, pie, sundaes, cakes, puddings. Every once in a while he lifted his head out of the plates to see if I was still glancing at him, and I was.

After a few more fattening minutes, the boy said, “I'm full. I can't move. I never ate so much before!”

Mom said: “Ok, Colin, lean back, I'll feed you.””

“No, mom, I'm gonna explode……just give me a few moments……,” the boy replied, breathing shallowly and rapidly.
He sat there for a bit, then realised I was staring at him. When he looked at me, I smiled. “You know what?” he continued to his parents, “You go on home, I'll come later,” and he looked across at me with a questioning face. I nodded, and give him a big smile. His parents looked confused for a moment, but then the mother saw me smiling and her return smile said she understood.

It was a struggle for the father to get up on his feet, and then even longer for his slow waddle to the door. As they finally exited, the boy invited me to the table with a look. I was so excited! I could feel my heart pounding as I approached his table.

“Hi, I'm Lisa,” I said.

“I'm Colin,” he shyly replied.

“Nice to meet you, Colin.”

“Well, I hope your looks meant what I think they meant.”

I blushed with embarrassment, as I didn't know he had seen me. “Ah, well, yeah……you saw me staring……”

“Yeah, at first I thought it was the regular surprise-disgust-amazement look, but after a while I understood that it wasn't.”

“It was certainly not! It was a……an appreciation look,” I replied.

“I know; seemed like you were enjoying seeing me……ah……eating.”

“I really appreciate boys with a healthy appetite, Colin.”

“I knew there must be girls my age like that, but I haven't met one of them. Yet.”

“Now you have!” I smiled.

He asked if I could get him more to drink. I brought him a tall glass of milk, and he asked, “So what is it that you like about me? Most people think I'm an ugly ball of fat.”

He was obviously fishing for a complement, and I was eager to complement his. “First of all, you are very handsome. Your clear blue eyes, your hair……”

“What about my body?” he said, interrupting me. He put one hand on his massive paunch, as his eyes searched me hungrily from above his fat cheeks.

“I love your fat body! I adore guys with big superstuffed bellies,” I started, and as I saw he was anticipating more, I continued: “...and yours is one of the biggest and best! The way it fills your polo and sits on your thick thighs……your fat hands, the hanging double chin, your fat chest.”

I hoped I wasn't being too graphical or offensive, but he reassured me by asking, “And my gluttony?”

“That’s the biggest turn-on of all,” I replied.

He seemed really comfortable with my response and said: “I'm turned on by my own gluttony too. I like eating and gorging huge amounts of food sooo much... then imagining it all turning into more fat……I like fat, I like being SO stuffed I can't move and I can barely breathe.”

He took my hand and placed it on his huge belly. “Feel that, feel how it's full, isn't it?”

My hand sank down through inches of soft fat until I felt the firm ball of his massive stomach. I exclaimed, “Oh, my god! I'm I heaven!”

Reacting to my praise, he replied, “Is it hot in here all of a sudden? Let's go and get some fresh air!”

He shoved the chair back roughly from the table, then leaned forward, adjusting his balance. I gave him a hand to help him up. His shirt was still exposing the belly and the fat rolls, with no chance or will to cover them back. The unzipped pants stayed put as they were stretched skintight across his gigantic fat ass.

I gave him my hand and we slowly went out.

“Good you're parked close. I wouldn't want to burn off all these calories,” he remarked as we stopped at my car. That sentence aroused me even more.

I opened the car door and moved back the seat as far as possible. He sat, and the car settled down an inch or two on its springs. He leaned back, getting his fat legs into the car. I closed the door and hurried to the driver's seat.

The sight was magnificent. More than 400 pounds of handsome obese boy in my car, with his magnificent belly covering most of his lap. I was speechless. He massaged his taut belly, seemingly unconsciously, then looked at me. Hungrily.

I drove to a secluded place that I thought might have the kind of ‘olfactory’ assets he would enjoy - a small city park in a ravine beside a large bakery. I opened the windows as I parked the car.

He sniffed, then inhaled deeply the glorious aroma of baking bread. “God I love it!” he said, rubbing his overstretched gut again. “The pain after eating too much! Open my door so I have more room,” he went on. The door open, he looked out at the park and shouted, “I am a fat lazy pig and I love it!”

I was about to say something but he went on.

“This is the first time I've shared my longings with a stranger……you see,” he went on, “I like stuffing my fat face! I am a complete glutton, a fat hog, I'm addicted to food! I want to spend every moment of my life eating, oh god! I want a huge wide belly, reaching the floor when I stand! No, better, I want not to be able to stand at all. I want to be immobile, trapped in my own fat! My legs and arms will be so fat I wont be able to move them. A complete lazy ball of fat! My greedy lips will be fed all day long, and stop only to sleep!”

He started crying with happiness. “I finally said it! I've been waiting for this my entire life……I didn't scare you, right?”

“Hell no!” I said and hugged him, “I wish to share your life and help you reach there. You will be my fat piggy. I'll feed you to immobility and take care of you.”

We were both so turned on!

“Kiss me! Let me know you're true!”

I kissed him passionately and started touching him everywhere. He did the same. I took off his shirt and got turned on even more by his thick, fat shoulders. We got to the back seat and made love. I licked his bloated belly, the rolls of fat, the soft thick thighs, the ass, the fat toes and fingers, the fat chest.

“Call me fat pig!” he ordered.

“My obese fat pig! I'll feed you!” I went on. He was moaning with pleasure.
“Say it again,” he went on. “Call me a fat hog!”
“You fat hog!”
“Your lazy king!”
“My lazy king!”
“Tell me you’ll stuff me!”
“I'll stuff you!”
“Make me immobile!”
“Immobile!”
“Immobile!”
“Immobile!”

Then we both came so hard. I never felt anything like it. We were two people alone in the world, nothing else mattered.

We hugged and talked and I fondled until about 1 am, when Colin’s stomach suddenly gurgled and rumbled with hunger. “I’m still awake, you see,” he offered by way of unnecessary explanation, “and my gut needs fed.. If I was asleep, I’d sleep through these hunger pangs. Usually. Sometimes I wake up terribly hungry. Like I am right now. Let’s go find some food!” he concluded urgently.

Fortunately, I knew the neighbourhood well, and there’s a nearby diner that’s open 24/7 to cater to truckers and shift workers at the bakery. Just after 1 am, that’s where I took Colin, wondering just how much he’d eat in the middle of the night.

I need not have wondered. As at any other time of the day, the answer was: a LOT. First, he ordered the ‘Big trucker’s breakfast’. While that was coming, his tummy started grumbling rhythmically, and he asked the waitress if they had any cereal bars.

“No,” she replied, sizing up his obvious youth and magnificent heftiness, and suggested, “but we do have pies.” Colin had just finished shovelling in his third piece of apple pie a la mode when his breakfast arrived. What a feast! He made quick work of the small mound of scrambled eggs, the half-dozen sausages, the four pancakes...as he started into the mound of hash browns, he asked the waitress for a double order of French toast. With her eyes darting at his voracious belly, she rapidly agreed. The first plate arrived just as he was munching on the slice of tomato they’d tucked into the side of the plate.

A double order of eggs and ham and another two pieces of apple pie later, my heavyweight new honey declared himself ‘ready to go’. At the cash he took a couple of king-size chocolate bars ‘for the road’ as he winked at the waitress.
“Anytime you get hungry again dear, you just come on back!” she said as she ran up his bill. She couldn’t resist stroking his belly as she handed him back his change - his belly was spreading itself gloriously across her counter, after all.

“Thanks!” he said once we were back in the car, “but now I need to sleep.” I drove him back to his place, but I bought a dozen donuts along the way, and asked him if I could see him again that evening again. He said that it would be hard for him to wait so long, and gave me his number.

I went to sleep replaying the scene of him gorging in the buffet, interspersed with his one o’clock in the morning ‘meal’.

I called him that afternoon and the sound of his sweet voice aroused me - especially as I could tell he was chewing. “Hi Colin, last night was amazing.”

“I feel the same,” he said.

“So, how about going to the all-you-can-gorge buffet, and this time I'll feeding you?”

“Sounds great!”

“I hope you're hungry.”

“Well, I'm eating right now - actually I have been all day - but don't worry, I've always got room for more - a LOT more.”
I came around six o'clock and knocked. His mother opened it, and smiled when she saw me. “Hi Lisa, come in; Colin told us all about you.”

The father was in the living room eating an enormous meal; he said hello, too. “Colin is waiting for you in his room.”

As I entered his room, I saw many cakes, empty pizza boxes, donuts, chocolates, and empty dirty plates. I closed the door behind me and said “Colin?”

He yelled from his private bathroom: “In a minute.”

When he came out he looked glorious, in a brilliant white knit golf shirt that strained to cover his hugely fat gut and chest, and was taut across his chubby arms and thick, fat shoulders. Below, a pair of butter-yellow cargo shorts showcased his hugely fat thighs, knees and ankles. He stood up, showing me that the cargo shorts had an elastic drawstring waist “like rugby shorts - for comfort and growth” and also had zippers “that can be opened to make room,” he explained.

“You look amazing!” I said.

“Thanks. You too!” he replied, smiling. He gestured with one fat hand at the mess of empty food containers scattered around the room. “Meeting you yesterday has inspired me, you see? I've been lying around, watching TV and gorging since I woke up……”

“That’s great!” I winked. “Shall we go?”

“Hey, I want to weigh myself first.”

He had a scale in his room? He must be tracking his weight gain, I thought to myself.

“This is Dad’s old one, he gave it to me when Mum bought his new high capacity one,” he said as he stepped onto a broad steel and glass platform in a corner of the room. I noted that it had a remote display mounted on the wall at eye level.

“421!” he said, smiling broadly. “More than I thought! Let's go and make it larger!”

He stepped off the scale and hugged me - his fat belly pressing into my flat one delightfully - and then he waddled off out the door.

Out in the yard, he opened the passenger side door of my little car and dropped his big butt onto the seat. As I watched him squeeze his tonnage through the door, and the car sag visibly under his mass, I thought to myself that I’d better convince Dad to buy me a bigger car if I was to keep this fat guy.

We got to the buffet and were seated close to the steam tables. Like his mother the night before, I worked hard to keep the table in front of Colin filled with full plates, while Colin worked hard to empty them. His appetite seemed to have grown since the night before, if that were possible. I fed him and fed him, until he claimed to have eaten even more than he had eaten the night before. I had some proof of this in his having to loosen the drawstring waist of the shorts, then open a few zippers, and then finally undo the waist button on the shorts, just as he’d promised..

He made a total hog of himself.

And I loved him for it.