~BHM, ~BBW
It was Monday, so that meant Ben Bensons with The New Yorker for lunch; Vong with Vanity Fair for dinner. He thought about the rack of lamb that would soon pass his lips, and the lovely Sales Executive Kim who would join him. She would order the porterhouse for two, and pass all but a slice or two over to him, claiming once again that her eyes were bigger than her stomach. She would get a sampler of the desserts, and tease his crotch with her foot below the table as she fed him. Later, at his suite at the Waldorf, she would peel off her designer work apparel, now tighter for the sustained account management over the last six months, let her breasts free from their restraints, and sidle up to him, allowing him to run his hands up and down her recently softened hourglass figure. Shed straddle his lap, rubbing his distended belly as she rode him to completion. After a few hours rest, the beautiful raven haired Jeannine from Vanity Fair would pick him up for dinner at Vong, and ply him with succulent French Asian treats until he nearly burst, and then, most likely, stay the night. He got hard at the thought.
Hed really stepped in it with his last job change six months ago; as Vice President of Marketing for a new, well funded company looking to break into the New York market, he was in high demand with the media and advertising departments-sending their best looking sales reps out to wine and dine him. He was hosted to nearly every meal at all of the greatest restaurants in the city by beautiful women, and made no bones about his desire to try two of everything.
About six weeks into the wooing was when, over his second crème brulée at Le Cirque, Sheila the rep forof all thingsNYSports, commented somewhat disgustedly that his gluttony would have to result in a contract soon, or hed not be able to fit into his clothes. It was true, he had started to notice a change himselfhis shirts pulled across the chest and neck, the pockets flared on his pants, the vents on his suit jacket pitched outward, and his ties started to seem too short to reach his belt buckleall of the attention had started to fatten him up. A check of the hotel scale when they returned put him at 195, up 30 pounds from his starting weight. Sheila, standing behind him, squeezed his love handles, turned him around and seductively said that she was going to need his signature on a contract, and his promise to get in shape, if she was going to continue handling the account, squeezing his balls as she spoke. He sat down on the bed, contemplating his belly, now folded into two rolls where there had been a six-pack. He felt great, and was having the time of his life. So, he told her hed have to consider the proposal.
The next day, he scratched NYSports from the potential list of advertisers and arrived at a plan: he picked twelve outlets, and set his terms: he would require weekly reporting from each media outlet, over lunch or dinner. He had picked twelve publications, largely based on the sales reps demeanor and relative beauty: buxom one and all, each a different type of lovely, each willing to do what was necessary to secure the account. Tuesdays and Wednesdays were triple account days, with lunch, dinner and a late supper.
It came to pass that his gourmandizing became a regular New York spectacle: standing reservations at Gallaghers, Union Square Café, Shun Lee Palace, Blue Water Grill, Angelos of Mulberry Street, Vong, and a host of other spots, insured that the chefs knew him and his girl companions by sight, and treated them to the additional caloric benefits and better tables (as booths were becoming less attractive anyway) reserved for the best customers.
As time passed, his companions felt the pinch, so to speak. As the weeks progressed, he took the opportunity to check the tags on now tight garments while the ladies would freshen up, and provided lavish new outfits, first 6s up from 2s and 4s, next 8s and 10s, so that they continued to look stunning as their forms softened. Hed send lavish team incentives in the form of pastries and catered meals to their attention at their offices to guarantee favored status for his account at their publications. His dinner companions, who often stayed the night, received the most intense effect, as a huge room service snackusually a whole cake, or a vat of chocolate mousse, for body paintinggreeted them after the night on the town, while morning brought two huge trays of breakfast delivered to the room, sending them off to their agencies for their account meetings with pouted bellies, billowing tops and tight skirts.
So, he reflected, six months in, the results of his success were now visible- his campaign was underway, his company was receiving high praise and record orders for the product, and he had been named President of Marketing. His advertising sales rep consorts had become increasingly zaftig, and increasingly pliable to his wishes. He was well on the way to being twice the man he started, having added one-hundred eleven pounds on his 165 pound frame, translating to 18 to his waist, 5 inches to his neck,10 inches in his chest.
The Ad Game
by upto236
by upto236
It was Monday, so that meant Ben Bensons with The New Yorker for lunch; Vong with Vanity Fair for dinner. He thought about the rack of lamb that would soon pass his lips, and the lovely Sales Executive Kim who would join him. She would order the porterhouse for two, and pass all but a slice or two over to him, claiming once again that her eyes were bigger than her stomach. She would get a sampler of the desserts, and tease his crotch with her foot below the table as she fed him. Later, at his suite at the Waldorf, she would peel off her designer work apparel, now tighter for the sustained account management over the last six months, let her breasts free from their restraints, and sidle up to him, allowing him to run his hands up and down her recently softened hourglass figure. Shed straddle his lap, rubbing his distended belly as she rode him to completion. After a few hours rest, the beautiful raven haired Jeannine from Vanity Fair would pick him up for dinner at Vong, and ply him with succulent French Asian treats until he nearly burst, and then, most likely, stay the night. He got hard at the thought.
Hed really stepped in it with his last job change six months ago; as Vice President of Marketing for a new, well funded company looking to break into the New York market, he was in high demand with the media and advertising departments-sending their best looking sales reps out to wine and dine him. He was hosted to nearly every meal at all of the greatest restaurants in the city by beautiful women, and made no bones about his desire to try two of everything.
About six weeks into the wooing was when, over his second crème brulée at Le Cirque, Sheila the rep forof all thingsNYSports, commented somewhat disgustedly that his gluttony would have to result in a contract soon, or hed not be able to fit into his clothes. It was true, he had started to notice a change himselfhis shirts pulled across the chest and neck, the pockets flared on his pants, the vents on his suit jacket pitched outward, and his ties started to seem too short to reach his belt buckleall of the attention had started to fatten him up. A check of the hotel scale when they returned put him at 195, up 30 pounds from his starting weight. Sheila, standing behind him, squeezed his love handles, turned him around and seductively said that she was going to need his signature on a contract, and his promise to get in shape, if she was going to continue handling the account, squeezing his balls as she spoke. He sat down on the bed, contemplating his belly, now folded into two rolls where there had been a six-pack. He felt great, and was having the time of his life. So, he told her hed have to consider the proposal.
The next day, he scratched NYSports from the potential list of advertisers and arrived at a plan: he picked twelve outlets, and set his terms: he would require weekly reporting from each media outlet, over lunch or dinner. He had picked twelve publications, largely based on the sales reps demeanor and relative beauty: buxom one and all, each a different type of lovely, each willing to do what was necessary to secure the account. Tuesdays and Wednesdays were triple account days, with lunch, dinner and a late supper.
It came to pass that his gourmandizing became a regular New York spectacle: standing reservations at Gallaghers, Union Square Café, Shun Lee Palace, Blue Water Grill, Angelos of Mulberry Street, Vong, and a host of other spots, insured that the chefs knew him and his girl companions by sight, and treated them to the additional caloric benefits and better tables (as booths were becoming less attractive anyway) reserved for the best customers.
As time passed, his companions felt the pinch, so to speak. As the weeks progressed, he took the opportunity to check the tags on now tight garments while the ladies would freshen up, and provided lavish new outfits, first 6s up from 2s and 4s, next 8s and 10s, so that they continued to look stunning as their forms softened. Hed send lavish team incentives in the form of pastries and catered meals to their attention at their offices to guarantee favored status for his account at their publications. His dinner companions, who often stayed the night, received the most intense effect, as a huge room service snackusually a whole cake, or a vat of chocolate mousse, for body paintinggreeted them after the night on the town, while morning brought two huge trays of breakfast delivered to the room, sending them off to their agencies for their account meetings with pouted bellies, billowing tops and tight skirts.
So, he reflected, six months in, the results of his success were now visible- his campaign was underway, his company was receiving high praise and record orders for the product, and he had been named President of Marketing. His advertising sales rep consorts had become increasingly zaftig, and increasingly pliable to his wishes. He was well on the way to being twice the man he started, having added one-hundred eleven pounds on his 165 pound frame, translating to 18 to his waist, 5 inches to his neck,10 inches in his chest.
