Note: This story is slow, but a lot of it is personal experience and, well, that's how I experienced it. Slo-mo. :)
Chester pulled up his tightie-whities and grimaced at the way the elastic dug in. He knew he was going to have to drop a few. He'd been telling himself that off and on for the past few months, but whenever he pulled on any of his old underwear, the waistband dug deeply into his soft flesh and reminded him that he was getting a little bit too round. He wasn't fat, just flabby. At five foot ten and one seventy five, he was about fifteen pounds more than he really should weigh, especially since he had no muscle tone on his frame at all.
Over the past several months, Chester had been feeling lazy and hadn't been exercising much. Near daily bike rides or runs at the start of the year had turned into three times a week by the spring and then just once a week in the summer as he spent more time at the office and more time on the couch at home listening to the patter of rain against the window. He told himself it was just the rainy weather as he looked down at the small potbelly that was cantilevered over his tightie-whities. He reached back and squeezed the love handles that flopped over the waistband in back, then shook his head and pulled a pair of jeans off the floor. He'd worn them a few times, so the thirty-four-inch waist was stretched out just fine. He pulled on a t-shirt and then a sweatshirt and looked in the mirror. When he was dressed, he looked just fine. Not chubby at all. Skinny, almost. With a boyish face and short brown hair that sort of stood up on its own.
He grabbed his keys and his wallet and headed out the door, on his way to meet his friend Conrad at a sports bar. The bar was only about a half mile from his house, but Chester didn't feel like walking home wet if it started to rain.
Chester and Conrad worked together at one of the Big Six accounting firms in Seattle. They were both Seahawks fans, despite the fact that the team was terrible and they'd both just moved to Seattle from California within the past year. Conrad was an outdoorsman and the rain didn't bother him at all. He ran, hiked, biked and did about a dozen other things that required gear and muscles and energy. When Chester found him in the bar, Conrad had already ordered fries and beers.
The two watched the game, drank their beers, ate the fries, then some buffalo wings, and then drank some more beer. By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, the Seahawks were already way out of it and Conrad wanted to order an early dinner to help him sober up. It sounded good to Chester, so he ordered a personal pizza and Conrad ordered a burger and fries. About twenty minutes later, the skinny blonde waitress came back with an enormous half-pound burger and a big pile of golden fries. She sat it down in front of Conrad and told Chester that his pizza would just be another minute.
"Good God, this is huge!" Conrad said, stroking his goatee in disbelief.
"It looks like a flying saucer," Chester offered.
"Have some fries. I'm not going to be able to eat all of this," Conrad said, sliding his plate to the middle of the table. The big burger had been cut in half and Chester ate a few of the fries, which were much better - crispier - than the ones they'd had earlier. He poured out some catsup into a little plate of his own. After a dozen or so, he paused and leaned back in his chair. "Whoa. I better not sit here and eat all your fries. And where's my pizza?" They looked around the bar until they saw their waitress. She came back to the table with an apologetic look on her face.
"I'm so sorry. Your pizza hit the floor and they're having to make you a new one. It's going to be about fifteen or twenty more minutes. Is that OK? Can I get you anything while you wait? A beer?"
"No. I don't think I better have any more beer. I've got to drive home in a little while."
Conrad's cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and started mumbling softly into it.
"Well ... would you like a free dessert when you're done? I could do that for you. I just feel bad that you had to wait so long."
"OK, sure. Although I hope I'm still hungry after all this food."
"Well, if not, I can wrap it up to go for you," she said with a smile and bounced off. Conrad clicked his phone shut and shook his head.
"I've got to go over to the office."
"What? Why?" Chester asked, picking up another fry.
"Chapman wants a couple of phone numbers so he can pester people tonight. I was supposed to email them to him on Friday. Shit."
"Yeah," Conrad said, standing up and pulling out his wallet. He dropped a twenty and a ten on the table. "Think that's about right?"
"Oh yeah. I'll give you some change if there's any tomorrow. You want the rest of this to go?
"Nah. I'm stuffed. I can't believe I ate like such a pig today. I'll have to go for a run tonight. Anyway, see ya."
"Later." Chester sat for a while and nibbled on a couple more fries. He tried just staring over the burger at the television, but it smelled so good. He was wishing he'd ordered that burger instead of his pizza. The widescreen television cut to a commercial for a burger place and that was it. Chester pulled the untouched half towards him and took a giant bite. It was so good. The bun was thick but soft and the burger was just a little crisp at the edges. Just how he liked it. He ate it greedily, in a few big bites, and pushed the plate back across the table. He tried to stifle a burp and leaned back in his chair. Now he was stuffed. He let another small belch escape as the waitress sat his pizza down in front of him. It was huge.
"I'm so sorry about that. Here you go. Anything else I can get you?"
Chester exhaled. "Nope. I don't even know if I can eat all this. It's huge!"
"Well, do your best. Enjoy!" she said and bounced away again.
Chester looked at the thick pizza. It was enough for two people. But he did love the sauce here. And the sausage they used, too. But he was so fuull. He leaned forward and picked up a piece. Taking a bite, it just melted in his mouth. It was so good. His belly was straining against his jeans, already filled with fries and wings and beer and that burger. He reached under his sweatshirt and surreptitiously undid the top button. As he did, the zipper slid down an inch.
"Much better," he said, a little louder than he had intended. He set to work on the pizza, without worrying about his waistline or if he had to go for a jog. He just sat and ate and ate, watching television and looking around at the other patrons. It occurred to him then that he hoped no one was watching how much he was eating. He quickly checked around him, but everyone seemed to be locked into their own conversations or else watching the television and ignoring him. He had been eating like a hog all day and felt a little embarrassed. He only had one slice left though. He hiccuped and set to work. Between bites, he leaned back in his seat to chew. As he finished, the waitress approached.
"My goodness, I guess you were hungry!" she said with a little disbelief in her voice. "That was a lot of food you ate." Chester blushed. She dropped the dessert menu on the table and picked up the empty pizza platter, burger plate and silverware. "You look that over and then let me know if you're got any room for dessert." She smiled and walked off. Phew. He couldn't possibly want dessert after all that, could he? He let the menu sit there for a few minutes. Then a few minutes more. When the waitress still hadn't come back after another few minutes, Chester picked up the menu and glanced at it - out of boredom. And he saw his favorite. Chocolate chip cheesecake. He hiccuped again and put his hand on his belly. It was so full, it felt hard. He'd get it to go. Another few minutes went by and the waitress still hadn't resurfaced. When she finally did, racing to his table, she was even more apologetic. She took his cheesecake order, dropped the check and hustled off. She was back minutes later with a big paper bag.
"I put a couple of slices in there. I'm sorry everything took forever tonight. I promise the next time you come in here, I'll treat you like a king. Sorry again," she said, resting the bag on the table and hustling off. Chester picked up the bag. It was heavy. He peeked in. There were three thick slices of cheesecake. Big ones. Good God. He headed out to his car and back to his apartment. When he got in, he put the cheesecake in the fridge and laid down on the couch to read. He was struggling to stay awake as he read The Economist and thought a few bites of cheesecake might give him a sugar rush. He pulled them out of the refrigerator, put all three on a plate and sat down at the kitchen table with the plate and the Economist. The first few bites were as good as he thought they would be. Cold, rich, creamy, delicious. He sat eating slowly, a little more awake and wrapped up in a long article about accounting in Brazil. Without really paying attention, he forked bite after bite into his mouth. Until ... uh oh.
"Phew. That's it." The plate was empty and he was a little surprised he'd finished it. "No food until next weekend." He patted his belly and exhaled, then pushed himself up to the table and walked slowly to the couch. He sat down heavily and turned on the television. He didn't move the rest of the night. He just flipped through the channels, totally stuffed, occasionally pausing to hiccup, belch or pass gas.
He woke up feeling hungry and ate his breakfast ravenously. He was so hungry at eleven that next morning that he ate lunch an hour early. He was also starving on the ride home from work, even though he usually had dinner around seven or eight at night, after a run or bike ride or something. His hometown San Diego Chargers were playing a Monday night game, he remembered, so he drove straight to the sports bar and went in to sit down at his same booth.
"You're back," the waitress said, smiling brightly at him. He ordered a beer and buffalo wings and sat back. He ate all the big plate of wings, had another beer and, around halftime of the game, ordered a steak sandwich and another beer.
"The steak sandwich comes with fries or mashed potatoes. Which would you like?"
Chester looked a little surprised. "Hmm. Fries or mashed potatoes. They both sound good. Do the mashed potatoes come with gravy?"
"Yes they do. They're really good," she smiled again.
"But those fries last night were perfect. Hmm."
"Tell you what," she said quietly, leaning in closer. "I'll get you both. I've seen your appetite." She winked at him, turned and bounced off.
"My appetite?" he thought to himself. Maybe he had made a pig out of himself. A short while later, the waitress returned carrying two big plates. On one plate was a pile of fries next to mashed potatoes drowned in gravy. On the other was the biggest steak sandwich he'd ever seen. The cut was thick and juicy. It looked great. His eyes were open wide.
"I had them make you a nice big one," she smiled, resting the plates down. "I'll be back with your beer." He started working on the food. It was delicious. The steak was tender and warm. The mashed potatoes and gravy were so good he just wanted to spoon them into his mouth all at once and the fries were nice and crisp like the night before. He ate in large bites, quickly, and finished without any real trouble, though he did unbutton his khakis midway through the meal. A soft belch escaped just as the waitress came to the table.
"Looks like somebody liked his dinner."
"It was great," he said with a hiccup.
"Ooops. Well would you like dessert?"
"That cheesecake was great. Maybe I could have a slice of that?"
She smiled at him suspiciously. "Just one slice?"
"Well, okay. Maybe a couple."
"Great. I'll be right back." Chester was very glad he'd left such a good tip the night before. But she really hadn't needed to give them any freebies. They would have been sitting there just as long watching the game anyway. The waitress returned with two thick slices of chocolate chip cheesecake, one of which was covered in warm chocolate syrup.
"I thought I'd see if you liked it this way. If not, I'll get you another."
"Wow. It looks great. Thanks." Though he was pretty full, Chester sat and forked up all of the cheesecake. It was a nice mix - one with the chocolate sauce and one without. By the time he had his last bite, he was stuffed. He made sure to leave another good tip. It was a big bill, though, and he scolded himself for being such a pig. At home, he scolded himself again when he took off his shirt and caught a sight of his big pink belly in the mirror. It was packed full and stuck straight out in front. He shook his head at the sight and went to bed.
Chester's appetite ticked up a little in the days after. He was eating just a little bit more at breakfast, ordering a little bit more at lunch, eating dinner very early, and having midnight snacks when his belly started growling. It just took a little bit more food to make him feel full and he started treating himself to it without much thought. It got darker and colder and wetter in the northern Pacific autumn and Chester's stomach was getting a mind of its own.
He knew his waist wasn't going to get any smaller, but he figured that he still looked fine dressed and he didn't have a girlfriend to impress. And also, there was no need to stay slim for the beach up here. It was just rainy and cold all the time. His exercise slacked off from little to none in the rainy evenings and he spent more time lounging on the couch at home. He kept going to the sports bar on Sundays and Mondays and eating like a horse - usually by himself, but occasionally with Conrad, who had started dating one of the women at the office and who now had less time to hang out with Chester. After a couple of months of this, Chester's clothes were definitely letting him know that he wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer.
His first concession had been to buy a new belt. His belt was kind of old, bought when he had a thirty-two-inch waist. He'd worn it like that for over a year, and a groove got worn in on that spot. By the time he started working in Seattle, he'd filled out just a little and had to move it over a notch. But after a month of his heavier eating, he moved it over another notch. He wore it to work one day and caught site of himself in the mirror after a sizable lunch. He was wearing a white polo shirt over a t-shirt and tan slacks. His belly was definitely noticeable, the shirt wrinkled a little at the top of his belly and was even a little taut at its widest point, just below the belly button. Underneath, his slacks were still unbuttoned from lunch and the zipper had slid down about a quarter inch. But the belt looked ridiculous, straining to reel in this soft, doughy midsection that billowed out above and below. The older groove was clearly noticeable two inches over. Chester knew he couldn't go one more over, to the last hole, so he just bought a new belt at the mall on his way home. Though he realized the irony before he went in, he just had to have a big McDonalds dinner that night at the food court. His tray weighed down with burgers, fries, a shake and apple pie, he told himself he was going to have to stop eating like this real soon.
Thanksgiving was just around the corner and, before he could do anything about his expanding waistline, he was heading down to San Diego to have Thanksgiving dinner with his family. He flew in that morning and his flight was delayed for a couple of hours. His father picked him up at the airport and they drove straight home. When they walked in, everyone was sitting down to eat. Chester and his father hurriedly joined them. Food was piled up high on the table and Chester had some of everything. There was a great deal of chaos and raucous laughter and ooohing and aaahing over the food. His mother, sister and grandmother had been cooking since the previous night. His two aunts were there as well as his grandfather. Chester had plate after plate of food as the afternoon went on. Everyone was making a pig of themselves, despite the fact that they were all the prototypical slim, tanned San Diegans. But, after dinner, they all cleared the dishes and started moving to the living room. Chester's sister Cindy was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. Chester walked over carrying a thick slice of pumpkin pie with whipped cream.
"Whoa, tubby," she said as he sat down heavily. "Look at that gut! What happened to you?"
Chester's face turned bright red. "What? Is it that noticeable?"
"Well yeah. You were so skinny the last time I saw you. What happened?"
"Well ... I guess I've been eating a little too much lately. I've been getting really hungry late at night and I just go eat the wrong stuff, I guess."
"Wow. You must have gained thirty pounds. I can't believe this belly." She poked him in the side. "You're fat!"
"Well, thanks. That's real nice."
"I'm sorry. It's just that ... well, I've never seen you so ... big. Are you exercising?"
"Not really. You know it's so rainy up there all the time. And cold. Here." He held the pie towards her, guiltily.
"Oh Chester, I'm sorry. Really," she offered with an apologetic smile. "You go ahead and eat that. I won't say another word. You look fine. I'm sure it's just a phase." She pushed the pie back at him and winked. "Now I know what I'll get you for Christmas."
"No," she laughed. "A gym membership. You know if you hit the gym more regularly, you can have pumpkin pie every now and then."
"Whatever," he said shaking his head, smiling. "Listen. Just hold this for a second. I'll go put on a sweatshirt to hide this gut."
She took the pie and Chester went to his suitcase and pulled out a big baggy sweatshirt. He pulled it over his head and sat back down. "How's that?" he asked.
"Great. Then hand me that pie and shut the hell up."
"You got it, porky." She smiled, handed him the pie and watched him wolf it down.
When his mother came in and asked if anyone wanted a second helping of dessert, his grandmother and aunt raised their hands excitedly. His sister poked him in the side, smiling, and he asked for seconds also, then felt like a fat pig as he munched it down. Chester wore his big sweatshirt the whole weekend and, aside from Cindy, no one was any the wiser about his newfound heft. She did have a good time teasing him with food, though. She made sure to pile food on Chester's plate; give him second and third helpings without asking; and bring him the biggest slices of cake and pie for dessert - all with a devilish grin. And Chester could never refuse. When she would sit a plate down in front of him with a wink, he would just smile and shake his head - then dig in hungrily. Everyone was overeating a little bit, so no one really noticed.
It was drizzly the whole weekend, so the family spent most of the four-day holiday inside. And Chester spent much of that eating. Early breakfasts. Big lunches of leftovers. Multiple course dinners. And lots of late night snacking.
Sunday afternoon, the family was watching football. Chester had a big bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate brownies and chocolate syrup in front of him and was spooning it into his mouth when his sister reached under his sweatshirt and got a thick pinch of his love handle. When he squealed in protest, his aunt looked over at them, confused.
"Just being a pest," his sister told her, then wiggled the pinch of flab.
"You're dead meat," Chester whispered.
"Just try it, porky," she whispered back. "Unless you're too busy eating." She pushed her nose up with her finger and oinked.
"I am. But just wait until Christmas. I'll be ready for you."
"Whatever you say, butterball."
Chester had lots of fun with his family that weekend, despite his sister's teasing, and was a little sad to go back to Seattle, where he didn't really have anyone to spend time with. His flight was delayed again and when he got home from the airport, he was starving. He put a frozen pizza in the oven and looked through his mail, then ate the whole pizza and went straight to bed.
In the back of his mind, Chester knew that over-eating so decadently was going to be bad for his burgeoning waistline. And when he was in the shower the next morning, his midsection definitely felt softer. And wider. But it wasn't until he started getting dressed that he realized he'd better hit the panic button. He didn't have any of his roomier boxers clean, so he pulled on a pair of thirty-four inch tightie whities and grimaced at how snug they were. He was startled and he went into the bathroom to survey the damage. His belly was definitely bigger than it had been in the past few weeks. It swelled up and out over the small underwear. His love handles also wrapped around his sides thickly. He was also fat along his sides. Turning around and looking over his shoulder, the love handles were surprisingly big - generous handfuls of flesh that bounced out over the tight waistband. And his rear end! What had happened? He hadn't noticed that it was getting so fat. But the underwear was stretched tight across two round, wide, prominent butt cheeks - the tightie whities couldn't even contain all of that flesh, some of which bulged out of the bottom of the underwear obscenely.
He put his face in his hands and walked back out to his bedroom. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He pulled on a tight t-shirt and a polo shirt over that. He shifted around a little and tugged at the tail to make sure it didn't hug his round belly. Then he grabbed his khakis and pulled them on. As they slid up his thighs and over his rear end, he got a bad feeling. He sucked in his gut and pulled the fly shut and, with his stomach mushing against his fingers, he buttoned them. He relaxed, then sucked his gut in again and pulled the zipper up, then grabbed his new belt and went into the bathroom. The pants were already digging into him painfully. In the mirror, he saw that his belly pooched out heavily over the top. The seat of the khakis was filled to bursting with his wobbling rear end. This wasn't going to work. Then he had an idea. He went to his closet, pulled out a sportscoat, and pulled it on. Perfect. He'd be able to walk around the office without looking like a Christmas ham. He skipped breakfast and drove to the office.
At work, he learned that a company president would be arriving on Wednesday for a week-long stay in Seattle. Employees were advised by the office manager that they should elevate their "business casual" dress to its highest levels for those days. No suits and ties. Just look good. Chester was starving at ten o'clock and his grumbling stomach caused a co-worker to stand up and look over the cubicle wall.
"Are you OK over there?" she asked.
"Yeah. Fine. I just was ... running late and I didn't have time for breakfast."
"Oh. Well. Sorry. I think there's some doughnuts in the kitchen."
She smiled at him and sat down. He hadn't wanted to mention that he was going on a diet because he was too fat to fit into any of his clothes and he was sitting here at his desk with his pants unbuttoned and the zipper halfway down so his big fat belly could hang out. And doughnuts. Good God. He didn't even want to think about that.
For lunch - he went at eleven - he got a salad and wolfed it down. By noon, he was hungry again. But all he had to do was pat his stomach to remind him that he'd better not eat anything until dinner. He was going to pay big time for the past couple of months. Damn.
Chester was driving home. Starving. Light-headed. Almost feint. He wasn't sure how it happened, but, instead of going straight home, he ended up at the sports bar. And he almost couldn't remember ordering a beer and buffalo wings. And then a beer and a burger and fries. And then another beer. And then two slices of cheesecake. He was soooo hungry. Even patting his big belly didn't work. He was still hungry. And when he got home, he pulled open the freezer door and pulled out microwave macaroni and cheese. Two. He fired them up and ate them both without thinking and then he opened the freezer again for some ice cream. He ate and ate and finished a quart of ice cream, then fell asleep on the couch.
In the morning, Chester scolded himself for being such a pig. And also for being so stupid to think he could cut back his eating so suddenly. He knew better. He decided to take it nice and easy. Maybe start on some of that exercise his sister had been talking about. He also vowed to go buy some new clothes - that fit - after work. He wasn't going to be able to shake of his big belly overnight. Also, he'd look a little better for the president.
At the mall, he went straight for a store that specialized in casual office wear. He was wearing sweats and he'd found a clean pair of big boxers. He browsed through the slacks and shirts for a while, then, when he had a few things he liked, he took them back to the dressing room. A teenaged guy let him into the dressing room and said, "Call me if you need me." Chester stripped down to his boxers and shook his head at his doughy frame. He slapped his belly with his hand and watched it wiggle. He still wasn't a big fat guy. But, jeez, in the nude, he looked like he was all crisco. And a year ago, he was just skin and bones. He tried on a shirt that fit well and looked nice. Hid his belly almost entirely. Then he pulled on a pair of black size thirty-six slacks and did a double take down at his midsection when they didn't button comfortably. No, his belly still pooched out over a pair of thirty- sixes. Damn. He opened the door and waved to the teenager.
"Can I get these in size thirty-eight?" he asked, pointing at his pants. "And these, too?" He held up a pair of dark brown slacks.
"Sure. Those too tight?"
"Um, yeah. They're too tight." Chester looked around to see if anyone heard that. Who was this idiot? Just get the pants, alright?
The thirty-eights were a little roomy, but Chester got them anyway. He decided thirty-sevens would be perfect but he would rather have them a little baggy than have them showing off a bulging midsection to the company president. He paid for everything, then stopped off in the food court and ate too much Chinese food. And when he figured that his new outfit really hid his weight gain pretty well, he topped it off with a banana split. Geez. Enough already. He was going to have to figure out some sort of program. Chester wasn't able to control his appetite over the next couple of weeks and, before he knew it, he was back down in San Diego with his family for Christmas. He had brought his biggest, baggiest clothes - not wanting his sister to give him too much trouble about his weight.
Strangely, trouble wasn't what she gave him. Despite occasionally patting his belly, she left him relatively alone. Until Christmas morning, that is. Chester's house was crowded with about twenty people - aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and family friends had come over for a big brunch and some gift giving. Amid all the hubub and confusion, Chester ate, ate and ate. Because the table only sat ten, people were rotating in and out during the morning. Not Chester, though. His mother gave him three plates of waffles and sausage with syrup and didn't blink. Chester had become accustomed to fixing himself larger and larger breakfasts over the past few months and was content to just sit and eat until something stopped him. He was buttering a biscuit with a great deal of butter when he realized he was the last one still at the table. Cramming on half of the soft, flaky biscuit in his mouth, he pushed himself up from the table, walked slowly into the living room, still chewing and sat down heavily on the couch, his cheeks still filled with the biscuit. He adjusted his sweatshirt so it wasn't stretched across his belly and tugged his sweatpants down so they didn't cling to his thighs.
The children were the first to start opening their presents. Each kid would tear open a present, then hold it up to show everyone, then start intently playing with it. The adults had gathered in the living room, sipping tea of chatting to each other. It was slow going. Only one present at a time so everyone got to see who was getting what and from whom. An hour or so into the mayhem, Chester stood up and went into the bathroom for a little while. When he came out, his sister was standing next to the door.
"Sorry. Were you waiting to get in there?" he asked, blushing.
"Oh no." She laughed, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose.
"Not now, anyway." She produced a red envelope and handed it to him. "Merry Christmas."
"Oh, thanks." He tore it open and looked.
"It's membership at that gym down the street from your apartment. The one you said you were thinking about joining?"
Chester forced a smile onto his lips. "Great. This is great."
"Oh come on, Chester! You know you're turning into a big tub. You haven't moved a muscle since you've been down here except to go to the kitchen and go to the bathroom. You won't come jogging with dad and me. You're butt has been planted on that couch the whole time. And you're eating enough food for three people!"
Chester blushed again. "I know, I know. Well, thanks, I guess."
"You'll thank me when you're back down to your fighting weight. I don't mean to be a bitch about it. I just thought you needed a kick in the butt." She spanked him lightly, sending his soft rear end wiggling. "Come on, let's get back in there."
"Alright." He looked down at the enrollment certificate. "Say, I don't look that fat right now, do I?"
His sister stepped back and looked at him. "You know, if I didn't know you, I'd say you're probably just a little mushy. Maybe chubby. I just know how skinny you used to be. But fat? No. You don't look fat. But you're on your way."
The rest of the day was less stressful, though Chester had mixed emotions. He knew he was pushing the limits of looking like he was getting fat while, at the same time, if he didn't already look fat, he had a little room to give. The preponderance of holiday chocolates and cakes and snack tilted the scale further towards the latter, and he spent much of the afternoon grazing on everything that came near him on the couch. The next couple of days were spent similarly - Chester opting to sit on the couch eating rather than go running with his family. He felt fatter than ever when he got on the plane to fly home.
January the second was a Saturday, and Chester was ready to go to the gym. He tossed some shorts and a t-shirt into his gym bag and drove through the rain down to the gym. He had his picture taken for an ID card, bought a combination lock, and went back to the changing room. He had decided he would do some weightlifting and some stairmaster. The locker room was not as discrete as he might have wanted. The lockers circled the circumference of the wall and there were rows of benches in front of them. In the middle of the locker room were a big bin for towels, a trash can, and a pair of tall, stand up scales - the kinds with the little weights that slide across the top.
Chester pulled of his shirt and pulled back on his workout t-shirt quickly, hoping no one would really catch sight of his pale, jiggling potbelly. He also threw his pants and shoes in the locker and pulled on his cotton shorts. They were a little bit more snug that he remembered, but he hoped they'd stretch out a little. The gym had mirrors on the wall and he realized that he looked pretty fat in his tight clothes.
His first stop was the bench press machine. It was set for one hundred pounds. That seemed alright, so he laid down on his back and felt his t-shirt rise up off his belly. He tugged it back down and tucked the tip into his shorts. He got his hands set and pushed. The bar was heavy. The weights didn't go right up. His arms quivered as he forced the weight up and then let it come back down. He was breathing heavily and his t-shirt was up off his belly again, revealing his soft, bulging middle. He sat up, shook his arms and adjusted the weight to eighty pounds. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed that embarrassing episode.
Some skinny lady doing sit-ups on a ramp looked at him kind of funny but, other than that, no one else seemed to care much. Eighty pounds didn't go much easier. He had burned out his arms the first time. Besides, he could feel the cool air on his stomach every time he set his hands on the bar. After three reps, he stopped and sat up again. This wasn't going to be easy. He was already starting to sweat. Maybe he should just go to the stairmaster. He heaved himself up and looked around. There were five stairmasters against a wall. The middle one was unoccupied and slim women with hard, tiny butts were making it look real easy on the others.
Chester climbed on and decided to set in on the easiest level. After all, it had been ... how long? Five months since he last exercised? Seven? This wasn't going to be pretty. And it wasn't. It was hard to get the steps to press down. He was leaning from side to side and doing it far too slowly. He was sweating bullets after a minute and he just couldn't get into a groove. He could feel his rear wobbling in the shorts and was sure anyone who was looking could see it too. He tried for a couple more minutes to get into a groove, heaving and huffing away. One of the girls next to him looked over at him, looked him up and down, and smiled to herself. Chester nodded but knew what she was thinking: "I'll never let myself get as fat and out of shape as that pig."
He didn't want to give up so soon. He wanted at least one of the women to abandon their stairmaster before he did. Who knew how long they'd been going already? His machine told him he had only been going for seven minutes. The woman on the other side asked if he was okay. He looked over, mouth open, sweat dripping off his forehead, at her. She must have been fifty. She was smiling sweetly at him, a look of concern on her face, as her legs pumped mercilessly.
"Yeah," he gasped. "Never ... done ... these ... before." His shoulders slumped as he gave up and stepped off. "Oh god." He muttered to himself. The two women looked at each other and chuckled. He was sweaty, exhausted, and he may have hurt his arms, he thought to himself. He started back to the locker room and noticed the sit-ups woman from before eyeing him closely. She had jet-black hair and a pretty face, with high cheekbones and narrow eyes. Like maybe she was part Asian. Was she smiling at him?
Groggy, he squinted at her and walked into the locker room. He thought about stepping on the scale but decided against it. He also decided against just putting on his clothes and climbing back in the car. Even though the locker room had a half dozen guys - all skinny or muscled - walking around in various stages of undress, he knew he had to take a shower. He pulled off his clothes and, as inconspicuously as he could, grabbed a towel, pulled it around himself and started off for the showers. He felt like a big, jiggly blob in the shower, so he soaped up his white, wobbly flesh as fast as he could, got cleaned up and got out of there in a hurry.
On Sunday, Chester rewarded himself for his workout by barely moving all day. Of course, the fact that his arms and legs were sore and painful to move conspired to keep him couch-bound much of the day as well. He ate off and on all through the day - boredom mixed with hunger. He never really sat down and ate a big meal, so he never got the "full" feeling that his stomach expected, despite the fact that he put away a great deal more food that he would have other wise. Pancakes, bacon, frozen pizza, microwave lasagna, bologna sandwiches, potato chips, enchiladas, ice cream, Hershey's kisses, chili and on and on.
The next weekend, Chester decided to try the gym again, though he figured he'd just hit the stationary bike and leave the stairmaster and weights for sometime later. He also wore a slightly larger pair of shorts. They were a little shorter and showed off a little more of his thick thighs, but they didn't cling to his rear end the same way the other shorts had. He found a bike, hopped on and programmed in a relatively easy ride. It started off fair enough. He worked up a sweat and was breathing hard a few minutes in but kept on pedaling. Whenever he felt like quitting, he would imagine himself from the previous week, naked in the shower. It had been very embarrassing to be so pale and so fat in there and it gave him the drive to keep going. After fifteen minutes, his legs just gave up. Breathing hard, he turned the machine off and let the residual motion carry his legs around a couple more times until they stopped. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, then heard a female voice.
"Did you have a good ride?" It was the dark haired woman from the previous week. The one who smiled at him. Did she work here or something?
"Yeah. It was pretty good," Chester panted.
"You seemed like you were getting a good workout. On ..." she looked at the display panel on the handlebars, "level one." She smiled at him. She had great teeth.
"Yeah." Chester would have blushed, but his face was already beet red from his workout.
"Are you new to this gym?" she asked, smiling again. The two chatted for a few moments, Chester explaining his job and the amount of time he spent sitting at a desk, while she told Chester that she worked in a bank and worked out at the gym four or five times a week. Her name was Anna and she had grown up in the Seattle area. She was tall. Just about his height. Finally, she touched Chester's hand and said, "I've got to get going. There's a step class that's about to start. Maybe I'll see you here again next weekend."
"Definitely," he answered, feeling lightheaded. He stood still and watched her lean, muscled legs as she walked away and he waved at her when she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. Good God. What had just happened?
Chester asked himself that same question all through the week. He told himself that he wasn't going to the gym during the week because he didn't want to seem overanxious and desperate. His midnight snacking continued, though, probably because he was overanxious and desperate.
The next weekend at the gym, Anna was using the bench press machine when Chester walked out in his shorts and t-shirt. He didn't see her until it was too late.
"Hey Chester! How are you?" she asked, sitting up and smiling. There was a little perspiration on her forehead and chest. Sexy, Chester thought.
"I'm great." He tried holding his belly in a little bit. He was wearing a bigger t-shirt that he'd bought to better hide his growing gut.
"Wanna do some bench?" She stood up and motioned for him to sit down.
"Ummm," he stammered. He didn't want her to see what a weakling he had turned into. "Well ... I don't know."
"You don't have to," she laughed, "I was just finishing up. What do you want to do?"
Chester explained that he wanted to start out slow and that he was going to "warm up" on the exercycle. Much to his chagrin, Anna hopped on the cycle next to him, set it on the highest setting, and started pedaling. Chester, on the lowest setting, put together a dismal showing. They chatted some, Chester gasping out answers and questions for her. They had similar tastes in music and movies and what were the most fun neighborhoods to hang out in. After they finished, Chester again felt light-headed, almost delirious. They'd been talking about a restaurant that they both enjoyed during their ride and, buoyed by their friendly, almost flirtatious conversation on the bike, he heard himself ask:
"Do you want to go grab a bite to eat at that Café?"
Anna smiled broadly and agreed.
They met after showering and cleaning up. Chester was still red-faced from his twenty minutes on the exercycle. Anna looked beautiful in a little flowery dress, her hair still pulled back. They went to the Italian restaurant they had talked about and ordered appetizers and pastas, Chester forgetting to curb his appetite, and a bottle of wine as well. It was five o'clock. Not exactly a dinner date, but sort of close to one. Nervous, Chester ate methodically. Slowly, but non-stop. He finished his bruscetta, her cheese sticks, the bread, his fettuccini alfredo and, when she said she was full, despite barely touching anything, he polished off the rest of her ravioli as well. They were getting along well, laughing at each other's jokes. They ordered dessert, Chester almost having second thoughts about being a pig until he realized that he just had to have the chocolate mousse. Anna ordered tiramissu with a shrug, assured that Chester would at least give it a try. When dessert arrived, Anna started talking about her boss and her co-workers, humorous anecdotes and strange gossip.
Chester sat and listened and gobbled up his dessert, while she just poked at hers. After awhile, she pushed hers at him and said "give it a try," then kept on telling stories about work. Chester kept checking in but, she didn't really want any more, so he finished it all and, with a stifled belch, he leaned back in his chair and absent mindedly patted the side of his belly. Anna's eyes followed his hand and then lingered on his midsection before looking back up into his eyes. There was something going on, Chester thought, but he couldn't figure out what it was.
The two argued over the bill, but Anna let Chester pay it on the condition that she be allowed to pick up the next check when the went out the next time - which they decided would be next Friday night. It was still early, but they said good night, exchanging bright smiles and a lingering handshake.
Chester was nervous and excited during the week and he completely neglected his calorie counting, going to get fast food snacks mid-afternoon and going back to his habit of sitting and eating ice cream late at night. On Wednesday night alone, he ate a quart of cookies and cream ice cream and then scraped the bottom quarter out of a pint of Haagen Daz chocolate. By Friday night, his appetite had picked up even more. He wore one of his newer, better-fitting pairs of slacks and a soft wool sweater over a black t-shirt. They went to a reasonably fancy French restaurant that Anna suggested. They ordered appetizers and entrees and, again, Chester did most of the eating. After dinner, a dessert tray stacked with creamy, sugary treats was brought to the table and Anna smiled as Chester helped himself, apologizing for his gluttony, while reaching for a miniature eclair.
A movie and a big tub of buttered popcorn later, Anna invited Chester into her apartment for a nightcap. She poured a couple of glasses of red wine and sat down on the couch next to Chester. They talked briefly. Chester brushed at her dark hair and smiled at her. She smiled back and put her hand on his soft thigh. They started kissing, gently at first and then more passionately.
Chester hadn't kissed a woman in months and was enjoying himself greatly. He ran his hands through her hair and down her arms. She stroked his thigh and then put her hand on middle. He was suddenly conscious that his belly must be bulging in this sweater. Her hand was resting at the top. It slowly circled down and under to the belt buckle. It was like she was outlining his big gut. He felt so fat. Chester reached for her hand.
"Hey. Leave that alone." He whispered. "I know I'm too fat."
Anna pulled her hand away and returned it to his middle.
"I think you're just right. This big belly is so cute."
"I think you're belly is cute."
"It was the first thing I noticed about you. It's why I was checking you out at the gym."
Chester leaned back and looked at her sternly. "Are you messing with me?"
"No. I'm not."
Chester looked at her skeptically. "You like my fat gut."
"I love your fat gut." She grabbed it with both hands and smiled devilishly at him.
"But you're so athletic."
"And I love my men with a little extra meat on their bones."
"Yes. I don't date guys who don't weigh at least two hundred pounds."
"Whoa! I'm not that big! I don't weigh near that much."
Anna smiled, leaned in and kissed his neck. "I guess we'll have to work on that," she whispered.
The two kissed and caressed each other for another half-hour before deciding they'd better call it a night. They both agreed that, even though they liked to take things slow, they might not be able to do so much longer. Anna offered to make him a midnight snack and licked her lips when he said alright. She made him waffles and sausage, with maple syrup and butter. He ate a big plateful, then asked for seconds. She sat at the table with him while he polished off more waffles and sausage. He paused to stifle a belch, then leaned back and patted his belly.
"I'm stuffed. I don't think I can move."
"You had a lot to eat tonight."
"I know! I don't think I've had that much since ..." he laughed.
"Well, since Wednesday. Actually I've been eating that much a lot lately." He hiccuped. "That's where all this came from." He put his hands on his soft stomach.
She smiled and patted his belly lightly. "Well, we'll just have to see that you keep getting enough to eat. Come on, big boy," she lifted the last bite of sausage to his lips, "why don't you clean your plate, here?" She took the last bite of waffle and mopped it through the syrup, then placed it in him mouth as well. "How's that?"
Chester nodded and smiled at her as he chewed the big mouthful of food.
On the way home, Chester undid the top button of his pants and loosened his belt a notch. And these were his fat pants! He'd just bought them. A thousand things flowed through his mind. Did Anna really like how fat he was? Did she really want him to be fatter? Did he really look fat now? What if he kept eating like he had been? What would his sister say if he gained any more weight? What would he look like if he got fatter? Why had he let himself get so fat in the first place? Why did he like it so much when she'd fed him? What if she was just messing with him? What if he didn't have to go to the gym anymore? What if he could eat as much as he wanted?
When he got home, he took off his clothes and studied his chubby pale body in the mirror. His bigger boxers were tight around his waist. His belly was wide and soft, and it wiggled when he patted it. His love handles were thick and they bulged over the waistband. His chest was doughy, even a little puffy, and the backs of his arms were soft fat. His thighs were enormous and they wobbled crazily when he shook them. He looked like a fat pig. He went to sit down on the couch and watch a little television before bed. When he thought about getting up for some ice cream, he instead looked down at the two big rolls of blubber around his waist. He grabbed one and wiggled it, then remembered Anna's hands on his belly. He went to the kitchen and pulled out a half gallon of chocolate ice cream. It was two thirds full. Thirty minutes later, it was gone. Chester patted his bloated stomach, then leaned over to the side to pass gas. He felt completely satiated. He rolled onto his side on the couch and cradled his belly in his hands. He had more gas off and on the rest of the night, and he finally fell asleep with the television on around midnight.
The next morning, Chester decided to go out for breakfast. Even though he was still unsure about Anna's comments and how he felt about being fat, he ordered an omelet, bacon and pancakes. No one at work had said anything to him about being fat. His sister had said that, if she hadn't known him when he was skinny, she wouldn't think he was that big. There's nothing wrong with being a little bit fat. He wondered if he did already weigh two hundred pounds. Was he really forty pounds overweight? Jeez! He spent awhile in the bathroom when he got home - his growing appetite had led to more time in there - then took a long nap to sleep off his big breakfast.
He wasn't exactly sure when he woke up, but he kind of remembered dreaming about food. Waffles and sausage. Pumpkin pie and whipped cream. Burgers and fries. Chocolate mousse and tiramissu. "I love my men with a little extra meat on their bones," Anna had said. "I don't date guys who don't weigh at least two hundred pounds."
Chester got up and, still in his tightie-whities, raided the refrigerator. His fat belly spilled into his lap as he sat and ate a big turkey sandwich and potato chips. His rear end and thighs spread out in the chair. His shoulders slumped a little, his chubby chest sagged forward on his belly. After the sandwich, he microwaved some macaroni and cheese and shoveled that down, then he heated up a can of chili and wolfed that down as well, rubbing his large, soft stomach as he ate. He'd begun to love these big binges and was getting good at them. He took half of a cheesecake with him to bed and spooned in bite after bite until it was gone and he was so stuffed he had to go back to sleep. "I could get used to this," he thought to himself as he fell back to sleep.
At work on Monday, Chester met Conrad for lunch. They hadn't seen much of each other in the past couple of months, with Conrad travelling and Chester skipping their periodic jogs. Conrad was already at the table and when Chester sat down, Conrad had a look of mild surprise on his face.
"Wow. Someone's been hitting the cookie jar." Chester rolled his eyes.
"Hardee har, Iron Man." He opened his menu.
"No. Seriously. You're looking kinda ... um ... a little bit ... heavy."
"Thanks. I hadn't noticed."
"So what?" Chester asked, resting his menu on the table.
"So what's up? Everyone gains a pound or two over the holidays but ..."
"But you ... you ... you're ... so ..."
"Fat? Is that the word you're looking for?"
"Yeah. It is. You look like you've been sitting on your ass eating non-stop for three months." He laughed. "But seriously. Is anything going on? Everything OK?"
"Everything is fine. I just gained a few pounds. I'll work it off. Here. I'll order a salad. Will that make you happy?"
"Thrilled." They left it at that and talked business over lunch. Conrad had been offered another job in the company's San Jose office and was thinking about taking it. By the end of their "meal," the two had decided that Conrad would probably be much happier back in California. More sunshine, warm weather, exercising, all that.
After his tiny lunchtime salad, Chester was starving, so he snuck out for a couple of Whoppers and came back later on. If Conrad had noticed his weight, other people in the office must have as well. His suspicions were confirmed later that day when a birthday party was held in the break room. Diane, the woman in the next cubicle over, had been celebrating her birthday since noon, when she and five of her girlfriends went out for a lunch that involved more than a couple of drinks. They had invited Chester into the breakroom while they gave her cake and presents. Diane was laughing and giggling as she cut the cake and, after she sliced off a huge piece, she started laughing, looked Chester square in the eye and handed it to him with a wink. The other women started giggling to themselves. When one noticed that Chester was turning red with embarrassment, she put her hand on his thigh.
"Oh, we're just kidding. Just teasing." She looked at the others.
"You girls leave poor Chester alone."
"I'm sorry," Diane said, sitting down in front of him. The other four women went back to a conversation about Conrad and the gossip that he might be leaving. "I just noticed ... I mean we've all kind of noticed ... you know ... it's just that ... you're a little bit heavier than when you started. I didn't mean anything mean. I was just teasing you." She patted his belly. "I think you look just fine."
"Healthy," the other woman offered. Chester sat still, holding the cake in his lap.
"Yeah. Robust. You were so skinny before. And now ... now you can tell that office life agrees with you." She patted his belly again and stood up. "No hard feelings? I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again."
"No. It's OK. I know I've put on a few pounds." He sat the cake on the table. "I probably don't need this."
The office receptionist popped her head into the conference room.
"Chester, you've got a call."
"Alright." He stood up, wished Diane Happy Birthday and walked out of the room and down the hall.
Well, there it was. Chester guessed that it wasn't a secret that he was fat now. On the one hand, he was embarrassed. On the other hand, it hadn't been that bad. They had just been teasing him. In all honesty, he would have liked three pieces that big. Maybe he was going to let himself be a little bit fat. See how it goes. Later on that afternoon, Diane came by with the cake box and sat down in his cubicle.
"I'm sorry about that earlier. I just had a couple of drinks and I didn't mean to make any comments about your weight."
"It's alright. Really." They had been decent office buddies. She had always been very nice to him and helped him out whenever he needed it. He put his hand on top of his stomach. "It's guess it's getting kinda hard to miss."
"No no. It's really not that big. Really. You look just fine. I was just trying to be silly. I feel bad."
"Don't worry. It's alright. Really."
"I brought this as a peace offering. I know it's kind of ironic, but I thought you might want some."
Chester opened the box. A third of the cake was left.
"No one else wanted any more," Dianne said with a sheepish smile.
"I thought you might want to take it home."
Chester laughed and shut the box. He put it on his desk and said thanks.
"We're all going out for drinks in a minute. Want to come with us?"
"I can't. I've got a client calling me back in a little while. Have fun though. And happy birthday."
Chester made a couple of phone calls. He could smell the cake through the box. Chocolatey. It smelled delicious. He pulled a plastic fork out of his desk and opened the box. Office life certainly does agree with me, he thought as he started eating the cake. The frosting was thick and sugary. What had she said? Robust. He looked robust. He laughed to himself and took another bite. It was a little too late to go back now. He was the office butterball. An hour later, there wasn't any cake left to take home and Chester felt a little queasy.
Chester and Anna had another dinner date set up for the following night. Again, the plan was to meet at the gym and then go out to a nice restaurant. Chester joked that she was going to try to fatten him up and she reminded him that she only dated two hundred pounders. Something about that turned him on and he spent Friday night at home, eating and eating and eating late into the night.
At the gym the next day, Chester changed into his "bigger" workout wear only to find it rather tight across his midsection and rear end. He hit the toilet and then, feeling as light as a feather, decided to step on the scale. He shifted the big block over to one fifty and then started sliding the smaller balance over, waiting for it to start tipping the other way. He figured he had probably put on about fifteen or twenty pound since before thanksgiving and expected to weigh about one ninety or one ninety five. But the scale wouldn't balance. He had to put the big block over to two hundred. And then the smaller balance slid over another seven pounds. He weighed 206! Good God! He was twenty five pounds heavier than he was five months ago! He was huge! He was forty pounds overweight! Forty pounds of fat! His mind raced over all the late night binges, the huge breakfasts, the afternoon snacks at McDonalds. Suddenly all that food didn't seem so good. He was stunned.
"I take from your expression that's a bad number?" Someone behind him broke his trance. He turned around. A heavily muscled weightlifter was standing behind him with a smirk on his face.
"Step off for a second. But leave that number there." Chester stepped down and the thick-armed weighlifter stepped up. He tapped the little balance to the side a bit. "204." He hopped off and looked Chester up and down. Chester felt like a huge fat hog in his tight gym clothes next to this guy. "Hard to believe we weigh the same, isn't it?" Still stunned, Chester just nodded. "Well. You'll get there. Later." The weightlifter walked off.
"I've got good news and bad news," Chester said when he found Anna. She had just finished a step class and was shiny with sweat.
"Uh oh. Let's hear the bad." She looked at him somewhat anxiously.
"Actually, the good and the bad are the same."
"Okay." She nodded her head to say, "out with it."
"I guess I'm eligible for another date with you. I weigh more than 200 pounds."
"I knew it." She smiled and pinched his arm.
"Yeah. I was surprised you didn't know it. When you said you weren't 200 at my apartment the other night, I just couldn't believe it. What are you? 210?"
Chester just looked at her.
Chester leaned in close to her to whisper. "You really like fat guys?"
She looked into his eyes and smiled wickedly.
"I love fat guys." She put her hands on either side of his belly and wiggled it.
"Well ... I'll take it."
"Great. Let's go get you something to eat. I know a great restaurant for a boy with a big appetite like yours." She patted his belly
"But I just got here."
"You can exercise next week. Let's get out of here." She took his hand and pulled him away from the gym floor. She showered and changed and Chester just changed. They hopped in her car and drove off.
At a restaurant called Aunt Betty's, Anna pulled her car in and led Chester inside. They sat in a booth and opened up their menus. It was home cooking-style food. Pork chops, fried chicken, meatloaf, rump roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, potato salad, etc. And everything could be ordered as a "hungry man platter" - huge portions and big servings of two sides. Chester picked out a bowl of chili as an appetizer and then steak, potatoes and macaroni salad for dinner.
"And I'd like that as a hungry man platter," he added with a smile. Anna winked at him and ordered a salad as an appetizer and then fried chicken with biscuits and gravy and corn on the cob for her entrée. Chester gave her a look of surprise.
"And make that a hungry man platter, too," she smiled.
"That's a whole lot of food, ma'am," the waiter offered. Chester looked shocked.
"Well maybe we'll take it to go if we can't finish it," she said. He nodded and walked away.
Chester leaned in towards her. "You don't look like someone who eats much fried chicken," he said with a smile. She put an innocent look on her face.
"Oh I am. I love fried chicken. I can eat loads." She smiled. Chester reached down and put his hand on her flat firm middle, giving her a confused look. "In here? You can fit loads of fried chicken and biscuits and gravy in here?"
She laughed. "Well, maybe I'll need a little bit of help. I'm sure I can finish off the corn of the cob, though."
Chester leaned back in his seat, grinning. "You're a very bad influence."
"Yeah. Every time we go out to eat, I end up eating a huge meal and half of yours, too."
Chester laughed. "Yeah. That's bad."
"Why? You don't like what you're eating?"
"No, it's not that."
"So you like the food."
"I love the food. I just shouldn't eat so much."
"Because it makes you sick?"
"No. It doesn't make me sick. It makes me stuffed."
She smiled innocently again. "And that's a bad feeling?" The appetizers arrived and they began eating.
"Well, no, not really. It's kind of a nice feeling, but -"
"So you love the food. You love eating lots of it and being full is a nice feeling, I don't see what the problem is." She grinned at him.
"Listen, lawyer, the point is, if I keep eating enough food for two or three people, I'm going to be as big as a house."
"And that's bad?"
Chester laughed. "I give up!"
"Perfect. Now be a good boy and finish your chili."
When the plates arrived, they were huge. And the amount of food was enormous. The steak was as big as a dinner plate and there were big bowls of mashed potatoes and macaroni salad. Anna got nearly a whole fried chicken, and separate plates for her corn on the cob and her biscuits and gravy.
"Good God." Chester exclaimed.
"Think of it as the second helpings being brought out on the same plate," Anna offered, taking a bite of her corn.
Chester dug in greedily to his steak and potatoes. It was delicious. And he was hungry. And he was beginning to feel like a big fat guy and didn't big fat guys eat like this all the time? He breezed through two thirds of his steak, all of his buttery mashed potatoes and half of his macaroni salad, then decided he might be a little bit better off with his pants undone. He also thought he might give Anna a little thrill. If she likes fat boys who eat like pigs, here's one of the secret tips. He leaned back and sighed, then made a little show of reaching under his belly and undoing his top button.
"Whew. That's better."
Anna's eyes grew wide as she watched his display. Chester burped discretely into his napkin, then dropped in into his lap and patted his belly. She slid her untouched plates of biscuits and gravy and fried chicken towards him. He slid the steak and macaroni to his side and pulled the chicken in front of him, then picked up a drumstick and started eating. The waiter approached to refill their water and saw all the plates stacked up around Chester. He looked at Anna.
"It's a good thing you brought him along." She laughed and Chester smiled though a mouthful of chicken. They chatted and Chester ate for another half hour. He worked though most of the fried chicken and about half of the biscuits and gravy, before he finally gave up. They got their leftovers wrapped up and walked slowly out to the car. They decided to just rent a movie and picked out a comedy neither one had seen, then went back to her house, and curled up on the couch. During the movie, they held hands, and Anna patted Chester's belly. Chester had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom a few of times. Overstuffed from the meal, he had gas and he didn't want to fart in front of Anna. After the movie, she offered him a bowl of ice cream, which he ate quickly, then had seconds and even thought about thirds before she snuggled down next to him on the couch and looked seductively into his eyes.
They began kissing and caressing each other. Chester felt her hard, lean arms and abs under her shirt, while she rubbed and grabbed at his belly and love handles. She pulled his shirt up and reached inside, stroking the warm, soft flesh in small circles. She reached up and pinched at his pudgy chest and cupped it in her hand. Chester unbuttoned her shirt and, when he pulled it off and saw her magnificent, athletic body, he wanted her more than anything. She pulled his shirt off kissed his pale, flabby middle, and saw that the top button of his pants had been undone all night. In the bright lights of the room, Chester felt very self conscious about how fat he was.
"Can you turn off the lights?"
She looked into his eyes. "Let's go into the bedroom."
They stood up and she took her skirt off, then unzipped his pants and dropped them around his ankles. She reached around behind him and grabbed two generous handfulls of the fat that was hanging out the bottom of his tightie-whities. She breathed in sharply.
"I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you in the gym."
She squeezed and rubbed his soft rear end. The two went into the bedroom. They fell back on the bed, kissing and rubbing one another's bodies. Chester marveled at the contrast in their bodies. She was lean and hard. He was fat and floppy. Everywhere she grabbed, she found a handful of blubber. They made love, Anna on top, twice over the next hour, then fell asleep pressed up against each other.
Chester woke up hungry and horny and when he smelled bacon frying from the kitchen, he got excited. He pulled his snug t-shirt on over his belly and debated whether or not to put on his trousers. Though he knew Anna would like to see his big thighs, it was a little cool in the house, so he pulled up his pants and, leaving the button undone, buckled the belt. He walked into the kitchen with his big belly pooching out over his belt, the t-shirt stretched tight across it.
"Good morning, teddy bear," Anna said cheerfully. "You're just in time for breakfast. Have a seat."
Chester sat down and looked over the spread. Bacon, pancakes, butter, syrup and orange juice. Anna sat down a heaping pile of eggs - scrambled with cheese, green onion and sausage - in front of him.
"Wow!" Chester exclaimed, digging in to the big feast. He was eating off three plates, reaching over his eggs to grab a strip of bacon with his left hand and cutting a bite of pancakes and dragging it around in the syrup with his right hand. Anna sat across from him with a little bit of scrambled eggs and some toast, smiling as Chester ate hungrily.
"I guess I can't help making a pig of myself around you," he said, his lips shiny with bacon grease. He burped quietly and dug back into his food as Anna winked at him. After she finished hers, she got up, rinsed her dishes, the snuck up behind Chester and reached around him to grab two big handfulls of his soft belly.
"Hey," he said through a mouthful of pancakes and syrup. "What's this?"
"Well, if I'm going to fix you a huge breakfast, I at least get to check out where it goes, don't I?" she asked, then hefted his gut in her hands and wiggled it. "Is that too much to ask?"
"Not at all," he replied. "It's a small price to pay." In fact, it wasn't a price to pay at all. Chester loved having his fat stomach stroked, patted and grabbed. It was even turning him on. And when Anna kissed his stuffed cheeks and bit lightly at his chubby neck, he wolfed down the rest of his food and turned around to reciprocate. Anna took his hands and led him back to the bedroom, where they sat down and began kissing.
"This little piggy's got bacon breath," she said, looking down at his moist lips. He also had some syrup smudged on his cheek.
"Sorry," he said, lifting her shirt off and rubbing at her lean arms and muscled shoulders. She pulled off his shirt and took off his pants then pushed him back on the bed and kissed him some more, gently stroking his soft stomach and thick love handles. She rolled him over to pull off his underwear and gave him a solid slap on the bottom, the sunk her fingers into the soft flesh. She pulled off her underwear and laid on her back.
"Come on," she said breathlessly, tugging at his arm. Chester pulled on a condom and wiggled towards her.
Chester hadn't been on top of a woman at this weight before and was surprised to see only his fat stomach hanging down when he looked down to see if he was going in the right direction.
Fortunately, Anna reached around and guided him in. The feeling was so good, he had to just settle in on top of her. He tried to cant himself back up to begin moving his hips around, but his arms felt so weak. They weren't going to be able to hold him up. They weren't used to holding him up at this weight. He laid back down, all of his weight on her.
"Are you OK?" he asked as she bit lightly at his neck.
"This is great," she replied, gasping just a little.
"Do you want to get on top?"
"No no! I love it, big boy. Just get this in motion," she slapped his ass, then grabbed it with both hands.
It wasn't easy. Last night he had just kind of laid there. But now, every time he going rolling, he got out of breath. His hips, more specifically, his ass, felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and he moved back and forth and back and forth. Finally, after giving up for the fourth time, Anna began gyrating underneath him, flexing and twisting and doing things that felt great. Her hands were clamped on to his thick love handles as she worked away underneath his big fat body until they both climaxed - her first, triggering his. Chester lay there for a moment, then rolled off.
Anna looked like she had been squashed by a steamroller. They cuddle for a few moments, then Anna got up and pulled on some underwear, shorts and a jog bra.
"I'm going for a run," she announced.
"What?" Chester looked confused.
"Just a few miles. I'll be back in less than an hour. Is that OK?" She leaned down and kissed him.
"Um. Sure. How do you have any energy after that?"
"Are you kidding? I feel like I just drank a double espresso!"
"Wow. I feel like I just ran a marathon."
"Well you stay here and take a nap and I'll be back in awhile."
Chester fell back asleep quickly and slept off his exercise and big meal for a couple of hours. When he woke up, he realized he needed to hit the bathroom. On his way in, he realized Anna was cooking again. He peeked into the kitchen to see her slicing up avocado. Rice and beans and tortillas were on the stove. Grated cheese and diced tomatoes were sitting in big bowls on the table.
"Hi there. What time is it?"
"It's almost noon. I was getting a little hungry, so I thought I get lunch rolling. Have a seat."
"I need to go to the bathroom first. I'll be out in a minute."
"OK," she smiled and went back to her avocado.
Chester gorged himself on taco after taco, rolling up all of the tasty ingredients in soft, flour tortillas and munching. Anna fetched him more to drink and bustled around in the kitchen, keeping the beans and rice warm, making sure his tortillas were hot, kissing him on the back of the neck and rubbing his big belly.
No question about it, Chester's appetite expanded when he began dating Anna. During the week, either Anna would cook him an elaborate breakfast before he went to work, or he would try to fashion his own, with bacon, waffles, sausage, pancakes, scrambled eggs and on and on. He would take a mid-morning snack in the break room, where the company had begun providing free bagels and cream cheese. He also started going out to lunch with Dianne and a couple of the other women from the office. He would make sure to order a full and satisfying lunch, making all of the diet-conscious ladies particularly envious. Since Anna didn't get back from the gym until seven or so most nights, Chester had been pushing back his dinners until then. And since his belly had the best of him, he would have hunger pains around four or five when he got off work. He had gotten into the habit of stopping off for some fast food on the way home, getting full meals of burgers and fries and milkshakes and pie. And then weekends! Anna would stuff him every four hours, starting early in the morning and continuing through to a midnight pizza or ice cream binge.
Of course the pounds really began piling on Chester's increasingly portly frame. Where it took him months to hit 200 pounds, after just a few weeks with Anna, he had eaten himself out of his entire wardrobe and weighed 225. Rolls of blubber poked out everywhere. He had taken to wearing a single tight sweat suit around the house or at Anna's, bursting the seams at the rear and sides. There was no mistaking that Chester was now fat. And though he loved it when Anna was showering him with attention, playfully grabbing a roll of fat or pinching his chubby cheeks, he was beginning to feel more self conscious as he got bigger.
He could feel people looking at his portly frame and snug slacks when he went out for his afternoon burger fix. And, if he wandered into the donut shop, he could hear the chuckles of the skinny coffee drinkers as he stood in front of the glass counter, pointing at donuts. He felt so tubby as the tiny woman behind the counter picked out all of his fattening goodies and tossed them into a large white bag. "She must think I'm just a big fat pig," Chester mused.
Of course, he knew, he was really turning into one.
Not only had his exercising dropped from little to none, he had also stopped walking as much or exerting himself. He parked right in front of the door at work, waddled to his desk and sat on his rear end most of the day, travelling around the office as little as possible. Chester's longest outings were usually at the grocery store, where he and Anna would slowly stroll the aisles, Anna putting into the cart whatever made Chester's eyes light up. They always made sure to buy a gooey, chocolatey treat from the bakery that he could enjoy on the ride home.
Chester's indolence and hefty appetite were doing wonders for their sex life, as well. Anna could feel herself getting aroused if she caught her big boy digging into a half gallon of ice cream as a midnight snack, sitting in his underwear, his big white belly swelling outward, chocolate on his lips. She would sit and feed him until neither one could wait any more, then push him to the tile and ride his big fat body.
Anna and Chester were engaged in just such an encounter one Sunday afternoon when his phone rang. Though they didn't pick it up, they both heard the message:
"Hi Chester, it's me, Cindy. I'm up here in Seattle on business all week, kind of a last minute thing, and I wanted to get together. Mom said you've got a new girlfriend and I want to meet her. Anyway, my hotel number is ... "
But Chester wasn't listening anymore. He wasn't having sex anymore, either. He had stopped wiggling his hips and stroking Anna's muscled thighs when he heard his sister's voice. And now, he could feel himself shrinking inside her as the thought of a reunion with his sister flashed before him.
"What's the matter?" Anna asked, leaning down closer.
Chester sighed and peered down at his wide, pale belly.
"My sister hasn't seen me this big."
Anna nodded. "Is she going to give you trouble?"
"Oh yeah. Big trouble. She was giving me crap thirty pounds ago."
"But you were skinny then!" Anna said with an excited smile.
"Well ... maybe to you. But not to her."
Anna traced her hand over Chester's middle.
"I bet you win her over with this cute tummy of yours."
She pinched his cheeks and neck.
"And these chubby cheeks of yours."
She reached down and grabbed a big handful of belly.
"You're just so damn cuddly!"
Chester smiled at her.
"Thanks. I may need you to be there with me."
"Of course, teddy bear, anything for you," she said with a big hug.
They had arranged to meet for dinner at the hotel where Cindy was staying. Chester had bought himself a new, well fitting, dress shirt that morning and was wearing his biggest, most flattering slacks. Anna looked like a knockout in a slinky dark blue dress, her lean, muscled arms bare in the cool night air. They arrived first and waited with a couple of drinks at the bar, Chester preparing himself for the taunts of his skinny, workout obsessed sister.
Anna noticed her first. Chester should have, but he wasn't sure what he was looking at, because he was looking for a trim woman in a business suit. But Anna saw the familial resemblance instantly, a resemblance heightened by the fact that Cindy herself had put on a large amount of weight and was bursting at the seams of a burgundy business suit.
"Wow." Anna said, raising her eyebrows. "Like brother, like sister."
"What?" Chester asked, as Cindy walked up to them.
"My goodness, Chester!" she began, looking him up and down.
"Whoa!" Chester replied, his mouth open in amazement at he looked at his sister's portly body.
"What happened to you?" they asked each other in unison.
They ordered drinks and lots of appetizers and hearty meal. Anna smiled to herself as she watched chubby brother and sister stuff their faces, Cindy complaining about an ankle injury and painful breakup that led to her extra poundage, and Chester admitting that the only thing he did at the gym was sit in the hot tub. An enormous steak was finally placed in front of Chester, and a bowl of creamy alfredo noodles in front of Cindy. The two ate hungrily, bantering back and forth and turning to Anna to referee as they wolfed down their food.
"Well don't tell mom and dad how big I am, alright?" Chester asked towards the end of the evening, pushing his empty plate away from him.
"Are you kidding?" Cindy belched behind her napkin and dug back into her noodles. "I have to see them all the time down there."
She took another bite and spoke through her mouthful of food. "Mom's been bitching at me for three months about my eating. And dad just looks at me and shakes his head. You better believe I'm telling them how fat you are." She swallowed and pointed her fork at Chester. "You're fatter than me! You're - hic - huge!" She pushed her empty pasta bowl away as the waiter returned, handed them dessert menus and took their plates. "I'll look skinny next to you," she whispered across the table at him.
"I wouldn't go that far," Chester said, opening up the dessert menu and smiling.
"Well I would, Chester." Cindy took a drink from her beer and opened her own dessert menu. "Come on, Anna, who's the real porker here?"
Anna just smiled at both of them and shrugged.
"Maybe we should get a few desserts," she said with a devilish grin.