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|11-25-2006, 09:11 PM||#1|
Join Date: Nov 2006
The Contest - - by Rachel (~BHM, Eating, Feeding, ~SWG)
~BHM, Eating, Feeding, ~SWG - there's really no competition when a guy's coach is an astute girlfriend
Though he was still heavy from this morning’s breakfast feast, Duncan heaved himself out of bed. Yanna wasn’t there anymore, after all. He might as well get something done.
He hadn’t been to soccer practice in over a week, and if he was going to keep eating like this, he figured he’d better get down there. The last two weeks had taken a toll on his body; he was weak and thin and felt it. He pulled on his workout shorts, loose despite the full belly he still had from breakfast, and his jersey. He threw his cleats and a change of clothes in a bag, and headed down to the field.
After a half hour of practice, all he could think was that he was glad Yanna hadn’t come to watch him after all. His coach, vindictive that he had missed nearly two full week’s of practice, was riding him non-stop. And with good reason. He was quick, but couldn’t make it through half of the conditioning. He gritted his teeth and did crouches, pushups or jacks until his muscles shook and refused to respond.
How could he fall so far out of shape in such a short period of time? he mused. No food, no sleep - that’s how, he told himself.
Two weeks. He might as well have just come back from the brink of death. But he kept going. He wouldn’t let it beat him. He owed it to Yanna to keep in shape, to keep strong.
She showed up at the end of practice. He was on the bench, doubled over with his head between his knees, pouring water on the back of his head. He wasn’t in pain – that would come tomorrow – but every fiber of his being was exhausted.
His coach was satisfied. Not that he’d said anything, but he’s given him an approving nod as he dragged himself off the field with the last teaspoon of energy he had.
Duncan didn’t see her arrive, but one of his teammates, Chuck, did. Yanna was a favorite of the team. She occasionally played in scrimmages with them when they were a man down – and she was the match of any of them in speed, at least.
Her easy, cheerful attitude and “one of the boys” mentality got her accepted as one of them early on. Duncan perked up when he heard Chuck greet her, and immediately was hit with a rush of adrenaline upon seeing her. He leaped off the bench and jogged over to her in three huge strides, scooped her up and spun her around, hugging her close.
“Oh, now the man has this kind of energy?” Chuck joked, catching up to them. “I was going to offer to drive your sorry ass home. Heck with that.”
Yanna giggled and squirmed playfully to be put down. Duncan held her close for another second and obliged. He smiled an idiot grin at her and punched Chuck in the back. Then he saw black spots in his vision and swayed a little.
“Woah boy.” Chuck said and moved quickly to fortify Duncan’s stance. “You shoulda seen this guy, Yanna. I haven’t seen him push so hard since first year. Maybe too much after two weeks of sick, eh man?”
Duncan tried to shrug nonchalantly but he really needed to sit down. Yanna took his hand and looked at him with concern. She knew how hard he could push, and how good he was at ignoring his body.
“Drink some water.” Chuck handed him a bottle. Duncan drank it gratefully in one or two swigs.
“You guys coming for dinner with the team? I thought maybe you needed a nap man, but I bet what you need is good, wholesome eatin’. We’ve been out here all day.”
Duncan looked at Yanna hopefully. They hadn’t made dinner plans yet.
“If you’re up for it, Dunc.” She smiled at him, not looking completely unworried.
“We could also eat later if you want to wait. Lunch wasn’t that long ago.” Duncan flushed, remembering that he’d forgotten to eat lunch. Stupid, stupid…
Yanna caught his look and knew immediately. “Oh Duncan.” She sighed. “All right, let’s go before you expire completely.” She squeezed his hand and led him towards the benches again, and he followed with effort.
The rest of the team had already changed into their civilian clothes, so Duncan quickly pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt which had once been form-fitting but which now hung a little loose.
“The team” was actually about a half dozen of Duncan’s closest friends who happen to be on his soccer team. Duncan and Yanna piled into Chuck’s car and they pulled out of the lot in mini-caravan style towards a pub that was a favorite of the team. The fare was served up buffet style, but was generally healthy, wholesome home cooking. It suited their needs well – a truckload of food for big, hulking male athletes, but nothing greasy or artificial that would wreck their bodies.
The pub was built into an old three story brownstone house, all narrow staircases and dark oak paneling. And, lots of smaller dining areas so that ruffians like Duncan’s soccer team could claim an area to themselves and not bother some of the less rambunctious patrons.
The buffet was set up just off the kitchen in what might have once been a grand dining room, so the team took a table in a smaller room just next to it. They didn’t want to have to go far, but then, they wanted a little privacy. The waiter, who knew them well, brought two pitchers of their favorite stout to start them off, and didn’t bother to ask what they were having for dinner – he knew.
Yanna kissed Duncan on the cheek and offered to get him something to start with, just until he recouped some of his energy. Duncan accepted gratefully. He poured himself a pint and “guarded the table” while the rest of his friends went up to the bar. He still felt lightheaded with exhaustion and hunger. He hoped Yanna would bring him something good… or at least something big.
She didn’t disappoint. Her plate contained a few of her favorites – curry chicken rolls, egg salad and mashed potatoes – looking sparse and lonely on the plate. His by contrast was piled high with everything he could have wanted. Potatoes, ribs, asparagus and butter, garlic bread and cheese.
He leaned over to kiss her deeply when she sat down next to him, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips. Then, she took a giant spoonful of mashed potatoes with gravy and popped it in his mouth instead. He closed his eyes and swallowed happily: somehow, being fed by Yanna was almost as good as the kiss. He felt as if he were swallowing a part of her, and he wanted much, much more.
He was so hungry he barely knew what to do with himself, so he devoured everything on his plate in half the time it took anyone else to finish. His friends – 7 of them, not counting Yanna – looked at him, amused. They were no slouches at eating, but Duncan had always outdone them.
He ate the same way he played soccer, trained, or loved his girlfriend: with single-minded determination. The man was a machine. He polished off his pint and got up to return to the buffet. Not wishing to fall behind, his friend Steve got up too. He finished the last few bites of his plate on their way to the other room, muttering something about how he “wouldn’t be beaten” by a “half starved midfielder”. Steve was a striker, quick and lithe. And extremely, extremely competitive.
Duncan barely seemed to notice his friend and heaped his plate a second time with anything that caught his fancy: some meatloaf, chow mein, more potatoes. Steve, meanwhile, watched Duncan intently and met him scoop for scoop, taking a bit more then Duncan of everything. Duncan ate a hush puppy on his way back to the table; so did Steve.
Duncan was starting to feel better already. He wasn’t so lightheaded, and the food in his belly gave him a warm glow. Yanna had finished most of her dinner by the time he came back, and so she snuggled up to him as he ate and joked with the guys while occasionally tearing off a morsel of bread and popping it in Duncan’s mouth.
He accepted anything she gave him greedily, pretending to bite off her fingers and staring into her deep brown eyes as he shoveled huge, satisfying forkfuls down his throat. She bit her lip and almost blushed as he ate more and more. She loved to watch him eat. He watched her blush and grinned through a mouthful of meatloaf. If this was what it took to make her happy, he was in heaven.
The rest of the guys were into their third pints and the noise level had picked up significantly. Steve had announced his intention to, once and for all, eat more than Duncan and the other guys thought this was hilarious. Duncan was their giant, 6’3” and, when he was in shape, well over 250 lbs of solid muscle.
Duncan wasn’t heavy set, but he was broad at the shoulders and had legs like tree trunks. Some of the other teams, they called him The Wall. Steve, he was wiery and muscled, 5’10” and made more of fire than flesh. But, they conceded, if anyone was ever going to beat Duncan, this was the day. He was tired and out of shape, and had clearly lost a lot of weight during his illness. His capacity was probably diminished.
Egged on thus, Steve hunkered down over his food and kept pace with his bigger friend. Some of the other guys – Pete, the other striker, and Jonah, the goalie – opted in too. If Steve was going to out eat Duncan, they weren’t going to be beat by a little thing like Steve. Not on this earth.
Duncan seemed oblivious of any competition. He was lost in Yanna’s smile, and a little spaced out from the beer on an empty stomach. He finished his second plate handily got up to get more, and to get Yanna a dessert while he was there. Sometimes he worried that she didn’t eat enough, but she would just joke that he ate enough for both of them.
It always made him happy when he could talk her into eating more food. He got so much pleasure out of stuffing himself silly, he couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t also. But even when they each would order huge helpings, somehow or another he always wound up eating both of them. And Yanna would coo in his ear and rub his belly… well, who could complain about that.
The rest of the team seemed surprised to see him get up for thirds so soon, and there was a mad scramble to finish what they had before they went up after him. Duncan still looked at the buffet with a childlike look of joy in his eyes, as hungry as the moment they got there. And though they wouldn’t admit it, the guys were already starting to feel full. The beer, they told themselves. But there was a big difference between almost feeling full, and being stuffed. Yah, they still had a chance.
It was after the third plate that the grandstanding started. Duncan still munched away at the far end of the table, separated from Steve, Jonah and Pete by another four people who had not bothered to get more food after the first plate and had opted instead for more beer. Steve made a great show of letting his belt out a notch and patting his belly, which now curved out a little under his six-pack.
Pete and Jonah hadn’t eaten as much as him so instead pointed out loudly how much *more* room they had, and how they, as taller men, were bound to catch up. All this talk was really a smoke screen, to keep them from having to go back up to the buffet before their dinners had settled a little, but they stopped abruptly as Duncan sailed past them to fill up again. How could he do that, without even taking a break?! Well, off they went too.
Duncan wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down. Well, maybe one – his shirt was form fitting again. Where the hollow space under his ribs had once been there was now a healthy bump clearly visible when he moved around. When he got back to the table Yanna snuggled up to him again and ran a hand down his front to trace out the curve of his belly.
Sitting down, it pressed into the belt of his jeans a little. Duncan shivered at her touch – as his belly grew tighter it was more sensitive. It felt amazing. When Yanna started to pull her hand away he caught it and held it to his stomach instead. She rubbed his tummy lightly and slowly, and nuzzled his neck. “You eat all you want, my love,” she whispered in his ear, “All you can.”
Eating at the competitive end of the table had become much more serious business. The three guys had grown quiet and were eating intently, only glancing up occasionally to gage each other’s progress. When Duncan got up to hit the buffet a fifth time they didn’t bother to try to go with him, but steeled themselves and ate steadily. They finally got up slowly to return.
Jonah squirmed a little as if he was trying to suck in his gut but having a hard time. Pete casually crossed one arm across his chest in a sort of half hearted attempt to cover his now-protruding belly. Steve had no such reservations, and loudly loosened his belt the as far as it would go and patted his stomach with both hands with a ‘Whoof!” His belly curved out from his ribs to his beltline. When he got up to refill at the buffet he thrust it in front of him and rubbed it with one hand.
At Duncan’s end of the table, Yanna had subtly loosened his belt for him as she snuggled with him. The team was used to Duncan and Yanna cuddling wherever they went; they were just that kind of couple. They were all drunk anyway, talking loudly, laughing and spilling things here and there. Duncan eating with Yanna’s arms wrapped around him was not particularly conspicuous.
Duncan sat back after finishing a particularly tasty chicken wing and took a deep breath. He was full, very full, but it just felt good. He felt warm and heavy and in love. He relaxed his gut so that his belly filled out his shirt. He had lost a lot of muscle mass, and his stomach felt less constrained than usual. His belt was still too tight though, and his belly bulged a little over the edge of his pants.
He tried to puff his stomach out at the top more, hoping it would shift the huge amount of food he’d eaten away from his beltline. No luck, he looked a little pregnant, but still trapped in too-tight pants. He leaned over and kissed Yanna to take his mind off of his discomfort. She rubbed his belly while they kissed, and ran her hand down to his belt.
Running a finger along the edge of his pants, she couldn’t find an inch where it wasn’t squeezing into the poor boy’s belly. Her hands working skillfully under the table, she undid his belt and popped open the top button of his jeans. Then she loosely did the belt up again over it, so that you couldn’t really see the open fly. Duncan felt such relief that he nearly moaned with happiness. He kissed his fabulous girl again and took a wedge of bruchetta and devoured it with no less enthusiasm than when he started eating.
Steve, Jonah and Pete were done. Jonah and Pete gave up long before they finished their 5th plates, and were now sulking into glasses of whiskey. Steve had insisted on finishing his if only to beat the other two at something, but looked a little green. His belly wasn’t round like Duncan’s, but stretched tight none the less. He excused himself to hit the washroom.
Duncan finished off his 5th helping and smiled at his friends. Then, turning to Yanna, asked in a low voice,
“So, I hate to ask you this, but…”
“Dessert?” Yanna grinned at him, and laughed a little. Duncan nodded sheepishly.
“I don’t wanna get up. But… you know…” Yanna did know. Her man wasn’t finished. She returned to the buffet and heaped up a last plate for Duncan, no less full than any of the others, but this time all cakes, mousses and cheesecake. She knew the difference between full and finished. When she came back Duncan reclined in his seat with his hands folded over his belly and laughing with his friends, looking a little spaced out but happy as a clam. She had his full attention when she sat down. “What did you get me?” he asked playfully.
“Everything.” She laughed. Duncan responded by opening his mouth and looking expectant. Yanna grinned and cut a huge bite of cheesecake with her fork and spooned it delicately into his mouth. Duncan, still reclined, closed his eyes and looked blissful. He could feel the rich, heavy cake slide down into his stomach and fill him up just a little more.
He opened his mouth again and Yanna fed him another big bite. He felt his belly stretch more. He took the hand that wasn’t feeding him and lay it on his belly. She fed him a third bite, expertly rubbing his tight, round belly and helping him relax. Her hands felt cool and soft against his hot, sensitive gut. Bite after bite she fed him the rest of the platter, rubbing his huge swollen belly as she did. Duncan savored every minute of it.
When he was done they got the bill. This was the perfect feeling, he thought. He was so full he didn't want to move - heavy and warm but finally satisfied. His belly balooned out under his shirt, giving him an instant beer gut. Yanna helped him up as they went to leave and he slung an arm over her shoulder, either to hug her or to help himself walk. She wrapped one arm behind his back and looped a thumb in his jeans, and lay her other hand atop his belly. His friends shook his hand and slapped his back as they left in admiration.
He leaned over and kissed his perfect girlfriend, and she looked at him with mischief in her eyes. He may be satisfied, but she wasn't yet. The night wasn't quite over.
Last edited by Observer : 11-25-2006 at 10:29 PM.
|11-27-2006, 09:01 AM||#2|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: The land that I come from is called the Midwest....
Great story! I love all your stories, Rachel! I hope you post the rest of them...
Your biggest fan,
|01-16-2007, 08:50 PM||#3|
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: Swansea, UK
Keep up the good work.
Brilliant story Rachel, Keep it up.
'Nancy, don't marry those gays!' - Jez (Peep Show)