~BHM, ~sex, ~romance. ~WG - Mr. Buff finds that there are gals who enjoy meatier guys
Author's Note: This story is slow, but a lot of it is personal experience and, well, that's how I experienced it. Slo-mo.
Editor's Note: Converted from the old Dimension's Library
Part 1
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.
"Man, 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. Sorry."
"That sucks."
"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.
Shaking his head in disbelief 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 groaned. 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. WEell, yeah, 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.
Author's Note: This story is slow, but a lot of it is personal experience and, well, that's how I experienced it. Slo-mo.
Editor's Note: Converted from the old Dimension's Library
Part 1
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.
"Man, 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. Sorry."
"That sucks."
"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.
Shaking his head in disbelief 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 groaned. 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. WEell, yeah, 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.
