"So Titus, have you lived in Zaftig City for a while?" you ask the German Shepard.
"Yeah. I've been here about five years, I think. I moved a while back because I was kinda getting sick of living in my hometown. I guess I got bored seeing the same people, seeing the same buildings, hearing the boring small town gossip. That, and there wasn't much work there. So moving away just made sense." said Titus. "We're nearly home! Just a block away now."
"Good. I'm ready to get off of my feet." you reply. "What made you choose to move here?"
"I dunno. This place kinda called to me, if that makes any sense. And probably because it's so cheap to live here. Easily one of the cheapest cities to live in as far as I'm aware. You might want to take that into consideration if you're thinking about staying."
"Well, I haven't figured that out yet. I'm really just trying to get my bearings here," you answer back.
"Maybe this place will grow on you." said Titus, leading you to the front door of an apartment building. "It sure did in my case..."
"Is that so?" you ask as you both walk through the lobby towards the elevator. Titus pressed the call button.
"Let's just say that I may have put on a little weight since I moved here."
The elevator door opened and you both step inside. It was massive, almost like a freight elevator. This, you suppose, is because of the sheer girth of the city's residents.
"I used to be pretty skinny, probably as thin as you!" Titus continued.
"God, really? What happened?"
"When I first got here, I saw how large everyone was. That encouraged me to put on a little weight. You know, bulk up. I got teased a lot for being so skinny when growing up. That's where the first fifty came from. I guess that spiraled into my first hundred. Then what happened? Oh, a bakery opened up nearby where I lived, so that probably where another 25 came from. I got into craft beers, so that's another 45. Carbs, you know. Umm...60 pounds gained from a couple of years ago when quadruple ripple fudge ice cream was a thing. It only was available for a few months, but I easily ate at least one gallon of the stuff everyday. Then there was that nasty breakup I went though. At least fifty pounds there..."
The elevator door opened on the 15th floor. Titus led you down the hallway as he continued talking. "And I guess since then I just put on weight whenever. I like eating, I eat what I want, and if I get I little bigger, who cares? Ah, here!" The German Shepherd stopped in front of a door with the number 1527 on it. He pulled a keyring out of his pocket and unlocked the door.
You followed Titus into the living room of his apartment. It was spacious, big enough for a dog his size to easily move around in. There was a small bookcase, and a large television hung from the wall. Vintage movie posters and abstract art adorn the walls. In the center of the living room was a long black couch and a extra-wide recliner. The living room lead to a kitchen furnished with any and all sorts of utensils. You guessed Titus must keep everything in stock; the kitchen counter were covered in boxes and boxes of various junk food. You could only imagine all the treats he has stored away in the pantry.
"Home sweet home!" said Titus. He tossed his keys in a table nearby the door. "Ugh, I need to get these things off. It's too hot out today..." he said as he started pulling off his shirt freeing his perfectly round brown-furred belly. It stuck out several feet yet didn't seem to sag much despite it's marshmallowly softness. His gut reminded you of a beanbag chair. Hefty moobs rested on top. You doubt you could hold one of his moobs in your hand without lots of the dog's fat spilling between your fingers.
He then reached under his gut to undo the button on his pants and zipper. Sliding off his pants, you got a look at the German Shepherds bare butt. Soft, bulbous, and wide, it was certainly a sight to see. Like two black furry beach balls. And much like Titus' belly, his butt also didn't sag down because of all the flab. In fact, this pup had quite the perky butt. His tail, also on the thick side, wagged happily and occasionally thudded against one of his butt cheeks. Titus' thighs, you saw, were thick and large, much like tree trunks. But where the rest of his body was soft and pudgy, his thighs looked beefy. That's a benefit of hauling around a quarter ton of dog, you suppose.
"Ah, much better!" said Titus. He shook and his entire body wobbles and jiggled, his butt jiggling for a few seconds longer than the rest of him. "Oh, sorry I didn't ask. I figured you'd be okay because, well..." He eyed you up and down, and you suddenly remembered that you were as nude as you were this morning.
"Oh, wow, I forgot about that," you said. "I'm surprised you or someone else didn't call me out on that."
"Eh, most fur wear clothes around here. Others don't. Especially the extremely fat furs since nothing fits them. If anyone saw you, they were probably more put off by how thin you are more so than anything."
"Oh, that's good," you reply. "But I'd eventually like to find something to wear eventually."
"I can dig through my closet later. I might still have things I wore before this happened." Titus gave his belly a light slap. Shockwaves rippled through the plush fat of his gut. "Now, sit, sit and relax!" He wrapped a doughybadm around your shoulders and sat you down on the couch. You sank deeply into the plush cushions.
"You must be starving! You just relax and I'll whip you up something to eat," the dog said. He then reached for the remote and turned on the television. Some action movie you don't recognize was playing.
"Ah, Knives of Justice 2. It's pretty derivative, but it's alright." The rotund dog plodded off to his kitchen where he searched through his cabinets and pantry.
While you wait, you watch Knives of Justice 2 and try to make sense of the plot since you started watching about 45 minutes into the movie. On the coffee table in front of you is a candy bowl. But Titus' candy bowl is filled with full-sized candy bars. "Help yourself to some!" he yelled from the kitchen. You look in the bowl and one catches your eye: A bar of salted caramel coated in peanuts. "Nutter Catastrophe", the label reads. You rip open the package and start chewing on the treat.
"Alright!" Titus again yelled from the kitchen. "There are two 'house specialities I can whip up: My award-winning Big Dog Five Alarm Six-Bean Chili, or my patented Cheesey Mac and Cheese with Sausage and Bacon."
"What? That one didn't win an award?" you jest.
A stern look came across Titus' face. "No, and I'm still bitter about that. Anyway, what sounds good to you?"
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