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Old 04-04-2015, 03:04 PM   #2
kingmangoly
 
Join Date: Mar 2015
Posts: 18
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Part Two

My parents were asking about my elated mood when I got home but I didn't tell them I met a really great girl and I liked her and she liked me too; they wouldn't believe me anyway. Or at least Dad wouldn't. So I just tried to act grumpy like usual and hurried up to my room. I laid down on my bed. Dad had been some star football player (or so he said) at school and always hassled me about being a "tub of lard". He told me so often that I would never, ever get a girlfriend unless I got rid of my "giant man-tits" that I believed it. Or at least I had.

Mom was always nicer about it. Let's face it, it had been her baking and cooking and feeding me massively oversized portions that had made me so fat already. To her I was a perpetually "growing boy" although to any sane person it was obvious that the only way I was growing was in girth. I had always thought when she said stuff like "grown up women want a big cuddly man to snuggle with at night" and "those silly little girls at school just don't know what they want yet" she had just been trying to make me feel better (usually accompanied by comfort food), but now I was wondering if there was more to it than that. I stared at the ceiling and thought about Gemma with Mom's words rattling around in my head. It wasn't long before I fell asleep...

My nose twitched from the tickly feeling of her hair as her head rested on my chest. She smelt of flowers. The bedroom was bathed in the incandescent light of dawn just beginning to brush the night aside. She briefly stirred slightly and, still asleep, let out a little sigh. I wondered what she was dreaming about and pulled the sheets up over her a little to keep her warm. Her hand felt so small in my own, and I ran my fingers up and down hers. She was so peaceful as she slept. I closed my eyes and slipped away again...

I was awoken abruptly by a pair of car horns outside as two drivers had a disagreement in the street before racing angrily away. I sat up with a jolt, with the instinctive feeling you always get when you know you've overslept. Except I hadn't because this was my first week without school, I remembered.

I stared at the red numbers telling me 08:18 on the clock by my bed with sleepy eyes for thirty seconds, before remembering my dream and being crushed by the fact it was just a dream; a feeling I knew well. Had the whole thing been a dream? I looked down at my still fully clothed body laying on the bed and then saw the messy number scrawled across the back of my hand and felt a smile spread across my face. No, not all a dream.

She had wanted me to call her soon but I wondered how soon I should do it. Half-past eight the morning after would be a bit too soon, I thought as I got undressed. I went to undo the button on my jeans which were alarmingly tight, only to find they already were undone of course. Normally when this happened I would think 'Oh God, I need to lose some weight,' but this time I thought 'Oh God, I need some bigger jeans.'

As I stood before the mirror and pulled my shirt off I was still unsure though: 'could anyone really like this?' I thought as I took a handful of my belly. I stood back to get the whole of me in the mirror. My 5'8" frame did not hide 270-280 pounds very well at all. Most people seeing me naked would've guessed I was more. Thanks to my totally sedentary lifestyle I couldn't even make the excuse of having muscle under there; all this was clearly pure, pale, doughy flab. Every part of me wobbled as I turned around, looking at myself from all angles. That day I could not hold it in any longer, and I finally succumbed to the impatient desire to call Gemma at 1pm.
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