A girl who loves big boys finally finds one who likes to eat
|Finally a Fat Boyfriend
It all started one Saturday night when my dad asked me if I'd like to go to with him on one of his all-you-can-eat buffet outings. Now, dad is a big guy who likes to eat, and it's probably thanks to him I've been attracted to big and hungry guys since childhood. My chief way of expressing my longing is to watch guys eat. I love watching guys eat. So, of course, I said yes to an excursion where I could watch my dad, and other guys, eating. Little did I know this was to be a buffet visit like none before. Even my dreams had not prepared me for what was about to happen.
I was 18, a reasonably good looking girl whose taste in guys was definitely not mainstream. While my classmates were hanging off the muscled arms of football meatheads, or idolizing the lean, cocky soccer stars, or drifting around after the skinny artistic types, I adored the bigger boys - the fat guys, the hungry guys. There weren't enough of them in my high school, so I was always looking elsewhere. On-line was a godsend, and there, somewhat anonymously, I could let my feelings out. My devotion to certain on-line gaining boys came close to worship - but only on-line could I find the biggest and hungriest it seemed. In everyday life, I never saw one a supersized guy younger than my dad. Yet I just knew that a guy that size, a citadel of avoirdupois, just HAD to be in my future somewhere. My fantasies made up for the shortcomings of my high school, of my real world. In my head, inspired by what I saw on-line, I imagined that dozens and dozens of fat guys went to my school - guys who were really fat - not just chubby. Fat, and hungry, and getting fatter. Big fat guys, eating and growing bigger and fatter all the time.
I longed for a massive or even just a substantial obese guy for a boyfriend. I was sure that there had to be at least one out there - one who was big, who liked being big, who loved to eat, who wanted to get bigger. I would feed him, love him, feed him, kiss him, feed him again, fondle him, and help him gain massive amounts of weight. My perfect dream guy would be an already obese boyfriend whom I could then help to grow and grow - help him grow monumentally, magnificently huge, help him expand all the way to super-sized perfection.
I had dated a few of the fat boys in my school, but when they discovered that I not only liked my guys big, but getting bigger, well, that was the end of 'boyfriend'!
Not one of them seemed to grasp just how attractive they were.... not even the one who was looking to gain weight for football. I helped him put on 65 pounds, and he looked magnificent at just over 300, but once his coach told him to 'knock off the gaining', that was it, no more hanging out with me.
Anyway, Dad and I arrived at the buffet that Saturday night, and Dad starting slinging back the food, like the other fat guys his age were... but of course I wasn't looking for somebody Dad's age. There were a few chubby boys eating, but no really fat ones. After a while, a good looking, well dressed woman came into the place, took a good look around and then hurried out. Then she opened the door wide and held it as if she was waiting for someone to come in, and she was - a huge man followed her into the buffet, his body so blubbery that he seemed to bounce rather than walk; I guessed him for somewhere near the 700 pound mark. He waddled laboriously in, but the woman continued to hold the door open, and - my heart leaped - a younger guy followed him in! And not just any younger guy, but an amazingly big, heavily handsome teenage guy who I guessed - I hoped - was about my age.
The big teen had blond cropped hair, slightly tanned skin, clear grey-blue eyes and - most important of all - he was fat. Really fat. Not in his father's league - yet - but well over 400 pounds, I was sure! He wore a brilliant yellow polo shirt that clung to his thick, fat arms, outlined his enormous moobs and stretched tautly across his extravagant 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 overhearing that, I went from intrigued to enamoured. I couldn't take my eyes off him, this fat teen who apparently was a buffet regular - a real life gourmandiser. I was beguiled. I imagining him gorging, stuffing his fat body, growing to his father's sensational size - and beyond.
The father and son both made their chairs creak as they dropped into them. Once seated, the father said, "Jenny, undo my belt and unzip my pants. Tonight I'm really gonna gorge!"
Jenny, wife and mother of huge men, clearly found this a 'normal' request, 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 - this was something out of my fantasies! I pinched myself but the sight remained - a father and son who both wanted to eat!
The mom rapidly brought full plates of everything. She didn't sit to eat herself until there was no room on the table for more plates. My attention was riveted on the boy as he hungrily started to eat. Eat? Better say gorge! The boy seemed obsessed - the huge amount of food in front of him rapidly vanished into his greedy mouth, as if he were inhaling it instead of just eating. The warm glow on his face showed how much he enjoyed it. And the glances 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!, or "more potatoes!," "more cream!," "more steaks!"
As they gorged, I noticed that some of the other diners seemed disgusted by their gluttonous show - though not all, as I also saw that I was not the only one sending positive or even envious glances their way. I watched with glee as the boy's shirt, snug to begin with, got 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 his flab spilling out as his belly was released was unforgettable. He pulled up the polo shirt a bit too, exposing yet more blubber and then proclaimed, "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 give it your best shot," she replied encouragingly.
The boy, pursuing his own challenge, seemed to double his speed of eating, if that were possible. The mother kept bringing more and more food, and she clearly focused on the easier to eat and more fattening dishes.
The boy responded with a deep commitment to shoveling in the food - he scarcely looked up from the table, and I couldn't believe how much he was consuming. Glowing a little myself, I sat and imagined it all turning into more layers of magnificent fat on his handsome, growing 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? Or did someone capture your attention?" He knew, or at least suspected, that I liked buffets mostly for the fat guys who came.
"Yeah, sorry, just distracted," I answered, then took a deliberate look at the big handsome boy who was still consuming.
"Oh, I see," said Dad, his gaze following mine. "Distracted by a handsome boy! You know, you don't have to just stare at him," he added, "you could go over and say 'Hi'."
"Dad!" I exclaimed quietly. "That's not..."
"...how it's done. I know, it's not conventional. But he's not a conventional boy - not at that size. And I know how lonely that big boy must be," he went on. "I was that age once too, you know."
Dad's words shocked me a little - who ever thinks of their parents that way? His words sank in, though, as we drove back home. I decided I didn't really want to let this opportunity slip away, so as soon as I was through the door I grabbed the keys to my little car to head back out. Dad saw me and grinned.
"Show him a good time," Dad called as I headed out the door.
I was back at the buffet in a flash. This time I chose a different table, one where I had a clearer view of the gorgeous gorging teen - and where he could clearly see me, if he looked up. 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 expanded. His father was still eating, but at a slowing pace, and he seemed to be spending more and more time watching his rapacious son shoveling 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 finally looked my way and 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, as if a bit embarrassed.
He ate everything his mom brought him from the dessert section: ice cream, pies, sundaes, cakes, puddings. Every once in a while he lifted his head from the plates to see if I was still looking at him - and I was.
After a few more fattening bowlfuls, the boy said, "Mm, I'm full. I can't move. I never ate so much before!"
His mom replied, "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 looked at me again, to find me still staring at him. He smiled, and I smiled back, even more broadly, trying to look inviting.
"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. Apparently my inviting smile had worked, so I nodded back, and give him another big, appreciative smile. His parents looked confused for a moment, but then the mother saw me admiring her son, and her return smile said she understood.
It was a struggle for the father to get up on his feet, and a long, slow waddle for him to make it 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 'how can he be so fat' stare, but after a while I understood that it wasn't that at all."
"It certainly was not disgust! It was all ... appreciation," I replied.
"I thought that; it seemed like you were enjoying watching me, ah, eating."
"I really admire a big guy with a ... well, a big... a healthy ... appetite, Colin."
"I've heard that there were girls like that, but I've never met one my age before. At least, not yet."
'Now you have!' I grinned.
'This is so cool!' he replied. 'Say, could you get me something to drink?'
I was thrilled - he'd asked me to help him. 'Sure, what would you like?'
'Anything,' he replied. 'You decide.'
Wow, I thought. What to bring him? Soda was excellent for all the calories in the sugar, but he'd had a lot of that, milk too, but maybe... a milkshake? I brought him a big vanilla shake, and he downed half of it in a glup, then looked up at me and smiled.
"Good choice," he said approvingly, and put down the glass. "So, you like what you see?" he asked, stretching out his fat arms, then gesturing towards his generous gut. "What is it that you like about me? Most girls seem to think I'm 'too fat', whatever that is," he added, running a hand over his paunch as it sat on his thighs.
He was obviously fishing for a compliment, and I was eager to comply, to make a good first impression. "First of all, you are very handsome. Your clear blue eyes, your hair...."
'Hey, every guy's got hair! What's special about me? Is there something you like about ...," he rubbed one ample hand over his plentiful paunch again, " ... my body?" As he asked, his eyes searched mine from above his fat cheeks.
"Well," I replied, drawing it out, "since you ask ... I love your body! I just adore fat guys, especially huge guys with big, big bellies," I paused.
Colin looked eagerly at me, and as he was obviously anticipating more, I continued. "And your belly is one of the biggest I've ever seen! I love the way your gut fills your polo, the way your belly sits on your thick thighs... you're just ... gorgeous." The beatific smile that greeted my compliments tempted me to go for the gusto in my praise, so I plunged on. "And I love your fat hands, your fat arms, your big fat chest...."
I hoped that wasn't too graphical or offensive, but his warm eyes reassured me. Then he rested both his chunky hands on that gorgeous belly and asked, "And my gluttony?"
"That's the biggest turn-on of all," I replied, enthusiastically.
That answer clearly was what he wanted to hear, as he replied, "I'm turned on by it too. I LOVE to eat, I love to gorge, eating sooo much... I love feeling full, then eating more. And I love knowing it'll all turn into more fat, too, and make me bigger!"
He reached across and took my hand and placed it on his bountiful belly. "Feel that, feel how it's so full, isn't it? I like being SO stuffed I can't move, so I can barely breathe."
My hand sank down through inches of soft fat until I felt the firm ball of his massive, super-full stomach. This was like being in a dream! I was so excited, I couldn't speak. After a moment I let out a little moan.
Reacting to my moan, Colin replied, 'Is it hot in here all of a sudden? Let's go and get some fresh air!'
He pushed back on the chair, sliding it slowly and noisily away from the the table, then stopped and leaned forward. He planted his feet to get up, and I extended a hand to help him balance, though it was really just an excuse to hold onto his well-padded hand. As his mammoth thighs propelled him upwards, his belly settled downwards, a roll of fat hanging out beneath his untucked shirt. His unzipped pants stayed put beneath his juggernaut of a gut, as they were stretched skintight beneath his bulging lower belly and across his protuberant fat ass.
I kept holding his hand, and we slowly made our way out - his mother having already paid the bill for his rapacious stuffing.
"Good you're parked close. I wouldn't want to burn off any of these calories," he remarked jokingly as we stopped at my nearby car. His tone may have been joking, but his remark aroused me even more.
I opened the passenger door and moved back the seat as far as possible. He sat down, and the car settled at least two inches 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. Four hundred pounds, no, much more than 400 pounds I was sure of handsome obese boy in my car, with that magnificent belly covering most of his lap. I wanted to say something welcoming, or just friendly, but the site of all his expansive handsomeness left me tongue-tied, 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 so much! Open my door, this gut needs more room,' he went on. The door open, he looked out at the park and proclaimed, 'I am so fat! And I want to eat forever!'
I was about to say something but he swiveled his head towards me and continued.
"This is the first time I've shared my longings with a stranger. But you came along, you chose the perfect place to stop, and I just had to tell you. You need to know - I am a complete glutton - I'm addicted to food! I want to spend every moment of my life eating."
He stroked his handsome belly slowly, and when I reached over and rested my hand on the top of its bulge, he sighed. "I just want to be huge, with a huge belly. I want to be bigger than Dad. Sometimes, I dream about being the biggest guy ever, with a belly that just swells and grows and grows! I could eat and eat and eat.... I love those dreams, but sometimes, they're so real they're even a little scary. Does..... does a belly that big, a guy who wants to be the biggest, to be huge, to spend every minute eating, does that sound weird to you?"
"No, no," I replied, aroused from my reverie, "not weird at all." With Colin talking about his dreams, I felt like I had fallen into one of my favourite dreams.
"Good," Colin continued. "Sometimes I have dreams about a guy who's nearly spherical, completely surrounded by fat.... his arms and legs so fat he can hardly move them. I wake up, and realise that it was me!" He looked at me, expecting, perhaps dreading the reaction. I smiled again, to set him at ease (and because his dreams sounded like my daydreams about the ideal boyfriend....).
"I've had dreams about a huge guy like that," I replied, sincerely, yet feeling woozy with the deliciousness of even thinking about such a thing.
"So if I became totally fat, the biggest guy ever, a huge hog, a hippo, elephant-sized, so fat and so hungry that I'd be eating all day long, you wouldn't find that disturbing, that wouldn't scare you away?"
"No," I said, and wondered if I was the one dreaming. Before I could pinch myself to check for dreaming, Colin's grew wider, and he grinned with happiness.
"I've finally found someone who understands! I've been waiting for you my entire life! Are you sure this won't scare you away?" he added, bouncing one fat hand off his gorgeous gut.
"Absolutely not!" I said, then leaned over to hug as much of him as I could reach. "I love what I see of you, and I suddenly want to share your life! If, if you want to grow bigger, I want to help. You will be MY fat guy, my personal fat man. If you want to eat and grow bigger, I'll help you, I'll feed you until you're immense. Heck, if you want to grow and grow forever, I'm good with it." Suddenly inspired, I raised a hand and added, "Here's to immobility, and beyond!'
"You gotta know Toy Story is one of my favourite movies," Colin replied, picking up on my last line. He leaned towards me, his lips puckering. "Let's kiss! Let me know you're for real!"
I kissed him passionately and started touching him everywhere. I pulled up his polo, and he leaned forward so I got it completely off, and the sight of his thick, fat shoulders and massive moobs warmed me further. In the trunk, there was a huge, soft blanket, which I spread on the grass under a nearby tree. Colin waddled over and fell down onto it, then pulled me down with him. I stroked his his bloated belly, his lovehandles, his mounds of chest fat, his soft, thick thighs, his balloons of ass, his fat toes and even his fat fingers, even as he worked his plump fingers over me.
'Call me fat,' he whispered into my ear.
'You're fat!" I replied enthusiastically.
"Say it again, like you mean it."
"You're wonderfully fat!"
"I wanna be huge."
"You'll be totally huge! I'll feed you 'til you're huge! Huger!" I added.
He moaned with pleasure, and whispered, "'Say it again. Call me fat, call me a fat hog!"
"You fat hog!"
'Tell me you'll stuff me!"
'I'll stuff you!"
'Make me bigger?"
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 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. We got all our clothes back on, and back in the car I steered us towards a nearby diner that's open 24/7 to cater to truckers and shift workers at the bakery. I'd taken a couple of previous boyfriends there, so I knew the place - and its menu, just right for hard-working (or hard-growing) guys. So, at 1 am, that's where I took Colin, wondering just how much he'd eat in the middle of the night.
In retrospect, I need not have wondered. As at any other time of the day, the answer to how much Colin would eat 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, then, sizing up his obvious youth and magnificent heftiness, and probably hearing his stomach grumbling, she made the obvious connection to his amazing appetite. 'But we do have pies,' she suggested. 'They're popular with our late night crowd,' she added, causing Colin and me to look around the restaurant. Colin was far from the only fat guy present. His tummy rumbled again, and Colin sudden smiled and said, 'Apple pie a la mode, then. At least two slices.' His order told me that the waitress had guessed Colin's hungers just right.
Colin was just finishing his third piece of apple pie a la mode when his Trucker's Breakfast arrived. What a feast! He made quick work of the 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. As her eyes re-sized his voracious belly, she repeated the order. The first plate arrived just as he was munching on the slice of tomato they'd tucked into the side of the Trucker's feast.
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. He replied that it would be hard for him to wait so long.
Home, 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 feed you?'
'I hope you're hungry.'
'Well, I'm eating right now - actually I have been ever since I got up, I woke up really, really hungry for some reason - but don't worry, I've always got room for more - a LOT more. The buffet sounds great!"
I came around six o'clock and knocked. His mother opened the door, 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 greeted me too.
'Colin is waiting for you in his room,' his father added, between mouthfuls.
As I entered his room, I saw a stack of empty plates, and a jumbo garbage can filled with food wrappers. 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 and teal striped golf shirt that strained to cover his swellingly fat gut and chest, and was taut across his chubby arms and thick, fat shoulders. Below, a pair of navy blue cargo shorts stretched across his massive rump, showcasing 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'.
'You look amazing!' I said.
'Thanks. You too!' he replied, smiling. He gestured with one fat hand at the nearly full garbage can, and the empty plates 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 him a new high capacity one,' he remarked 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.
'498!' he said, smiling broadly. 'Almost 500!"
He stepped off the scale and hugged me - his fat belly pressing into my flat one delightfully - and said, 'Let's go and make me larger! Gotta get up to the quarter ton!' Then he turned and waddled to the door, letting me follow (and ogle his magnificent back side!).
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 considered that I'd better convince Dad to buy me a bigger car if I was planning to keep this fat guy - especially if I was planning to keep him getting fatter!
We arrived shortly at 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 loosen it again, then finally undo the drawstring completely.
"I'm filling these so well, they'll never fall down," he remarked to himself, then grabbed the next overflowing plate (of lasagna).
And another plate. And another.
He made a total hog of himself.
And I loved him for it.
Finally, when he could eat no more, I sat with him while he started to digest a little.
"It'll be a few minutes before I can move," he remarked to me. "Why don't you pay the bill while I start to digest? But, first, bring me more juice," he added, then leaned back. His middle was clearly approaching spherical, and the stripes of the golf shirt were quite distended - a beautiful sight, as the shirt strained to cover his full gut.
"I must be the biggest I've ever been," he remarked happily, as his fat hand rubbed gently over his inflated gut.
I paid the bill, and 15 or so minutes later, once he could finally move, I drove him home, where his parents were in the living room, watching TV. Well, his father was watching TV and eating, and his mother was watching TV between trips to the kitchen.
'So, Colin, did she treat you well?' his mother asked as we came in.
'She's the best, mum,' he replied. "See?" he added, and stroked his still-full gut.
'Well, there's food in the fridge for when you get hungry,' his mother assured him, then winked at me.
"Thanks!" he replied, as if this were really news.
We went to his room and he sat, then lay on his bed, for a while, until his stomach gurgled loudly. 'I need something to drink,' Colin said. 'There's probably a pitcher of milk in the fridge. Just bring the whole thing.'
I went, and brought, and got to watch my new, fat, boyfriend chug two litres of milk in seconds. Whole milk, I guessed, by the creamy texture of it.
"I should go to sleep now," Colin then said. "I was up late last night, and I'm tired... and my body has a few pounds of food to process while I sleep. Did you know that if you sleep right after you eat, you wake up fatter?"
Floored by this 'up front' observation, I just smiled, so Colin went on. "We could do a breakfast buffet tomorrow, though.... or lunch. Or breakfast that turns into lunch."
"Sure," I said. "Call me when you get up? Here's my number."
I quietly left the house as Colin got ready for bed. "Will we see you tomorrow?" his mother asked as I walked past the living room.
"I sure hope so!" I replied honestly. "I asked Colin to call me when he wakes up."
"Good," said his mother. "You're welcome to breakfast with us, if you get here early enough."
"Thanks. Good night," I replied.
The first few days of our new romance passed in a blur. I did take Colin out to a breakfast buffet the next day - but only after watching him finish off the last of a massive breakfast spread that his mother had prepared for him and his dad. There were dishes there that I'd never heard of, and others that I had never thought of serving for breakfast. Colin ingested them like a machine, and I thought I might not get to see him eat until lunch, but by the time he'd said good bye to his parents, and we'd driven to the breakfast buffet I'd researched (my dad never did buffets in the morning), Colin proclaimed his hunger restored.
And his stomach gurgled to prove it.
Man, could he eat.
Man, was I ever falling for him fast.
In between stuffing him silly with food, I was finding out that we had a lot of other things in common, or at in complementary, like our shared sense of sarcasm, or his inability to drive (something I love doing). Our tastes in food overlapped (though he ate about forty times what I did) - but he had eaten a lot more things than I had (not mention quantity) so he set about introducing me to some of his favourites.
He also taught me how to massage his gut, when he was feeling full. I'd never heard of this - but he liked it, and he seemed to be able to eat more afterwards, so... here's to 'gut massage'!
And the experiment on the blanket got repeated...
And within the week, I'd had him in my own bedroom, once (I need a bigger bed!).
A month into our romance, and into the summer holiday, and I was waking up next to Colin. His parents didn't seem to mind (in fact, I think his mother liked having someone to share the load of filling two fat guys' guts) and I was loving it.
Colin stretched, then draped one fat arm over me. "I'm hungry," he said, and rolled further towards me.
"Time to get up then," I said brightly, and rolled out from under his padded arm. "I've got a snack here for you, but you have to sit up first!"
"Awww..." Colin said, and, grinning, sat up. He leaned towards me, both chubby hands extended. I pulled hard, but it was definitely getting harder to get him up.
"However did you do this before I came along?" I asked.
"I didn't. I rolled over to the edge of the bed, swung my feet over, and let my gut pull me up," he explained.
"Man, I'd love to see that!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, I thought you liked pulling me up."
"I do, but the idea that you're so fat your gut can help you do work is so cool!"
Colin tucked into the 'snack' that I'd brought, while I pulled out some clothes for him. His mother called up the stairs, and I hurried down, to help here with breakfast preparations. Half an hour later Colin came into the dining room, where his mother and I had stacked a restaurant's worth of breakfast goodies... or about enough for Colin and his equally rapacious, but bigger, Dad.
An hour of steady gorging later, the fat boy and his fatter father both slowed down, as they neared fullness. - a state that would only be temporary for these two!
"Today marks a month since Lisa came into our life," Colin's mother remarked as she started to tidy the dining table, removing empty plates from in front of the bloated, stuffed hunks. "I think that deserves a little celebration. Plus, I'm noticing that Colin needs some bigger clothes," she added, winking at me, "clearly Lisa has been a good influence on him! I suggest once you two have digested a bit, that we head to the mall."
Although I had upsized my car over the month (thanks Dad!), we wouldn't be going in that, as Colin's mother drove a low-floored 'handicapped' bus whenever she was taking Colin's Dad anywhere - and it was more than big enough for the four of us, even though the two men are supersized. The bus kneeled on it suspension for loading, plus it extended a ramp, so there was no step - though Colin could still do steps (in fact, he took great pride in still doing short flights of stairs), steps definitely gave his Dad troubles.
The Big 'n' Tall, mercifully, had doors that opened directly to the parking lot, saving Colin and his dad the tedium of a slow wander through the Mall's hallways - though we would be doing that later, as we took the two blubber boys out for a good lunch after their shopping excursion. At the big men's shop, Colin and his dad were greeted like old friends - which I expect they were, or at least good customers, because where else were guys like my hefty honey and his enormous dad going to buy clothes?
Buffet lunch after.
Colin and Lisa go for a nice, slow stroll after lunch.... with many stops - and discuss the future? An expansive future!