Finally a Fat Boyfriend

Finally a Fat Boyfriend

My life changed - for the better - one Saturday evening when my dad asked if I'd go with him as he went for supper at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

A Saturday supper with her dad, you're thinking, changed the life of a teenage girl. How.... unconventional. And you'd be right. But I'm not a conventional girl, and my dad is not a conventional dad. And this, is not a conventional love story, or even a story about conventional people.

Let's start with my unconventional dad. How is he unconventional? Well, my dad is a big fat guy who's unashamed about his size. He likes to eat, and he's not ashamed of his appetite, either.

Growing up with him is probably why I've been noticing big guys since I was a little girl. Noticing them, sure, every little girl notices her dad and guys like her dad, but for me, near the end of middle school, in a Home Ec class, I suddenly realised that I didn't only notice - and like - big guys, but that I also liked guys who could eat a lot.

One of my classmates wasn't very big, but at age 13 he seemed like he could eat anything - all of my Home Ec projects, good or disastrous, went his way, as did those of several classmates, AND a huge lunch, everyday. As I cruised through high school, the guys who most attracted me were the big boys... especially the ones with the biggest appetites. There were some very big and very hungry guys at my school - our football team was primo - and by grade 11 'cafeteria' was my favourite period. I just love watching guys eat!

So, to sum up, by the time this story begins I was 18, reasonably good looking, whose taste in guys was definitely not mainstream. While my classmates were hanging off the muscled arms of football meatheads (usually figuratively), or idolizing the lean, cocky soccer stars, or drifting around after the skinny artistic types, I was adoring the bigger boys - especially the fat and hungry guys. There weren't many of them in my high school, so I was always looking elsewhere. The on-line world was a godsend, and there, semi-anonymously, I could let my feelings out. My devotion to certain on-line gainer boys came close to worship - on-line I could find the biggest and the hungriest guys.

But. in my everyday life, there were no supersized guys my age - they all seemed to be at least the age of my dad! I didn't give up, though - I could find them on-line, so I just knew that a massive guy my age, some supersize teenage boy of bulk, just HAD to be out there, somewhere, and I had to be ready for him to walk (waddle!) into my life. The supersized guys couldn't all be only on-line - somewhere, there was one waiting for me.

But, being on-line helped me develop my fantasy life. In my fantasy, I would one day meet a massive guy - or in some fantasies just a substantially obese guy - who would instantly become my boyfriend. I would feed my fantasy boy, love him, feed him, kiss him, feed him again, fondle him, and help him gain massive amounts of weight. My perfect dream guy would be an already obese boyfriend whom I could then help to grow and grow - help him grow monumentally huge, help him expand all the way to super-sized perfection. He was out there, I was sure - a boy who was big, who liked being big, who loved to eat, who wanted to get bigger. I just had to keep looking!

I had dated a few of the fat boys in my school, but when they discovered that I not only liked my guys big, but getting bigger, well, that was the end of 'boyfriend'! Not one of them seemed to grasp just how attractive they were.... not even the one who was looking to gain serious weight for football. I helped him put on 65 pounds, and he looked magnificent at just over 300, but once his coach told him to 'knock off the gaining', well that was it, no more hanging out with me.

So of course, when Dad asked me to go with him to the buffet that Saturday night, I said yes - even if I didn't find the right guy, there would be some eye candy to feed my fantasies, even if I had to make them all younger.

We arrived, and it was no time until Dad was slinging back the food, like the other fat guys his age were... but of course I wasn't looking for somebody my Dad's age. There were a few chubby boys eating, but no really fat ones, and the 20-something guys weren't that much bigger.

After a while, a good looking, well dressed woman came into the place, took a good look around and then hurried out. Then she opened the door wide and held it as if she was waiting for someone to come in, and she was - a huge man followed her into the buffet, his body so blubbery that he seemed to bounce rather than walk; I guessed him for somewhere near 700 pounds. He waddled laboriously in, but the woman continued to hold the door open, and - my heart leaped - a young guy followed him in! And not just any young guy, but an amazingly big, heavily handsome teenager who I guessed - I hoped - was about my age.

The big handsome teen had blond cropped hair, clear, smooth skin, a round face with grey-blue eyes and - most important of all - he was fat.

Really fat.

Not in his father's league yet, but well over 400 pounds, I was sure! He wore a brilliant yellow polo shirt that clung to his thick, fat arms, outlined his enormous moobs and draped across his terrific belly. A pair of enormous rugby shorts fit snugly below, their front nearly lost beneath a prodigious paunch, but stretched out nicely in the rear across a big butt. They showed off his thick legs as he waddled in after his father.

As they reached a table, the woman said to him in a motherly tone: "Honey, those are your biggest shorts, aren't they?"

"Oh yeah mom, the ones with the extra stretch - I have this feeling I'll need every inch tonight!"

On overhearing that, I went from intrigued to enamored. I couldn't take my eyes off him, this supersized teen who apparently was a buffet regular - a real life gourmandiser. I was beguiled. I immediately imagining him gorging, stuffing that fat body, growing to his father's sensational size - and beyond.

The father and son both made their chairs creak as they dropped into them. Once seated, the father said, "Jenny, undo my belt and unzip my pants. Tonight I'm really gonna gorge!"

Jenny, wife and mother of huge men, clearly found this a 'normal' request, and did as he asked. "I'll just pull mine down if I need more room," the behemoth boy commented, and his mother just smiled.

I was sure I was dreaming - this was something out of my fantasies! I pinched myself but the sight remained - a father and son who were both planning to eat!

The mom rapidly brought full plates of everything. She didn't sit to eat herself until there was no room on the table. My attention was riveted on the boy as he hungrily started to eat. Eat? Better say gorge! The boy seemed obsessed - the huge amounts of food in front of him rapidly vanished into his greedy mouth, as if he were inhaling it instead of just eating. The warm glow on his face showed how much he enjoyed it. And the glances I gave to his father told me that his gluttony ran in his family - at least on the male side. The mother kept encouraging them, flattering their appetites and bringing them more - and more.

Every once in a while, the boy or the father would say, "more of the pasta and this time more meatballs!, or "more potatoes!," "more cream!," "more steaks!"

As they gorged, I noticed that some of the other diners seemed put off or even disgusted by their gluttony - though not all, as I also noticed that I was alone in sending positive or even envious glances their way. I watched with glee as the boy's enormous polo lost its gracious drape, and became close-fitting, then snug. After some time he reached down and pushed on his rugby shorts - but past his huge belly, he could hardly reach the waistline, so his mom helped. The sight of his flab spilling out further as his belly was released was unforgettable. He pulled up the polo shirt a bit too, exposing yet more blubber and then proclaimed, "Mom, tonight I'm gonna surpass dad!"

The father had a "yeah right" look, and the mom seemed surprised as well.

"I don't think anyone can polish off more than he can, but give it your best shot," she replied encouragingly.

The boy, pursuing his own challenge, seemed to double his speed of eating, if that were possible. The mother kept bringing more and more food, and she clearly focused on the easier to eat and more fattening dishes.

The boy responded with a deep commitment to shoveling in the food - he scarcely looked up from the table, and I couldn't believe how much he was consuming. Glowing a little myself, I sat and imagined it all turning into more layers of magnificent fat on his handsome, growing body.

Then, too soon, my dad was finished and it was time for us to go. Dad said to me as we got up from the table, "You were really quiet tonight, were you day-dreaming? Or did someone capture your attention?" I suspected that he knew, or at least strongly suspected, that I liked going to buffets mostly for the eye candy of fat guys who came.

"Yeah, sorry, just distracted," I answered off-hand, then took a long, very deliberate look at the big handsome boy - who was still consuming great quantities.

"Oh, I see," said Dad, his gaze following mine. "Distracted by a handsome boy!" He paused a moment, as my gaze remained riveted, then touched me gently on the arm. "You know, you don't have to just stare at him from afar," he noted "you can go over and say 'Hi'."

"Dad!" I exclaimed quietly. "That's not..."

"...how it's done. I know, it's not conventional. But, seriously, he's not a conventional boy - not when he's that size. And I know how lonely that big boy must be," he went on. "I was that age once too, you know."

Dad's words shocked me a little - who ever thinks of their parents that way? His words sank in, though, as we drove back home. I decided I didn't really want to let this opportunity slip away, so as soon as I was through the door I grabbed the keys to my little car to head back out. Dad saw me and grinned.

"Going back for your boy? Show him a good time," Dad called as I headed out the door.

I was back at the buffet in no time. This time I chose a different table, one where I had a clearer view of the gorgeous, gorging teen - and where he could clearly see me, if he looked up. Luckily, but not surprisingly, he and his dad were still pigging out - well, more correctly, the boy was still gorging, and his belly seemed much expanded, the polo now tightened far past 'snug'. His father was still eating, but at a slowing pace, and he seemed to be spending more and more time watching his rapacious son shoveling it in.

Finally the boy said: 'Mom, I am so stuffed! I outdid dad!' He paused, and my heart sank slightly. He hadn't even touched the sweets section yet. I perked up considerably as he continued, 'Let's go for dessert!'

While the mother went to bring desserts, he lifted the shirt more and rubbed his bloated belly. He was obviously excited. And then, he finally looked my way and caught me staring. I was afraid he'd think it was a pity or a disgust look, so I warmly smiled. He seemed surprised at my smile and then smiled back, as if a bit embarrassed.

He ate everything his mom brought him from the dessert section: ice cream, pies, sundaes, cakes, puddings. Every once in a while he lifted his head from the plates to see if I was still looking at him - and I was.

After a few more fattening bowlfuls, the boy said, "Mm, I'm full. I can't move. I never ate so much before!"

His mom replied, "Ok, Colin, lean back, I'll feed you.''

"No, mom, I'm gonna explode; just give me a few moments," the boy replied, breathing shallowly and rapidly.

He sat there for a bit, then looked at me again, to find me still staring at him. He smiled, and I smiled back, even more broadly, trying to look inviting.

"You know what?" he continued to his parents, "You go on home, I'll come later," and he looked across at me with a questioning face. Apparently my inviting smile had worked, so I nodded back, and give him another big, appreciative smile. His parents looked confused for a moment, but then the mother saw me admiring her son, and her return smile said she understood.

It was a struggle for the father to get up on his feet, and a long, slow waddle for him to make it to the door. As they finally exited, the boy invited me to the table with a look. I was so excited! I could feel my heart pounding as I approached his table.

"Hi, I'm Lisa," I said, shyly.

"I'm Colin," he shyly replied.

"Nice to meet you, Colin."

"Well, I hope your looks meant what I think they meant."

I blushed with embarrassment, as I didn't know he had seen me. "Ah, well, yeah, you caught me staring at you.''

"Yeah, at first I thought it had to be the regular surprise-disgust-amazement 'how can he be so fat' stare, but after a while I realised that it wasn't that at all."

"It certainly was not disgust! It was all," I searched for the right word, "... appreciation."

"I thought it was something like that; I got the impression that you were enjoying watching me, ah, eating."

"I really admire a big guy with a ... well, a big... a healthy ... appetite, Colin."

"I've heard rumors that there were girls like that, but I've never met one my age before. At least, not yet."

"Now you have!" I grinned with relief. He really was as lonely as Dad suggested - as lonely in his preference as I was!

"This is so cool!" he replied. "Say, if you like to watch me eat, would you like to watch me drink? Would you get me something to drink?"

I was thrilled - he'd asked me to help him. "Sure, what would you like?"

'Anything,' he replied. 'You decide.'

Wow, I thought. What to bring him? Soda was excellent for all the calories in the sugar, but he'd had a lot of that, milk too, but maybe... was this a test? What could I bring him that showed how much I appreciated his size and appetite. What's an appropriate drink for a huge fat guy? Then it came to me - what's thick and rich and full of calories? A milkshake! I brought him a vanilla shake in the biggest glass they had. Colin downed half of it in a glup, then looked up at me and smiled.

"Good choice," he said approvingly, and put down the glass. "So, you like what you see?" he asked as he caught me staring at him again. He stretched out his fat arms, then gestured with an extended hand back towards his generous, all-consuming, gut. "What is it that you like about me? Most girls seem to think I'm 'too fat', whatever that is," he added, bringing his arms down and running a padded hand over his phenomenal paunch as it sat on his weighty thighs.

He was obviously fishing for a compliment, and I was eager to comply, to make a good first impression. "First of all, you are very handsome. Your clear blue eyes, your hair...."

'Hey," he cut in, "every guy's got hair! What's special about me? You've been staring at me for hours - there must be something you like about ...," he rubbed one ample hand over his plentiful paunch again, " ... my body?" As he asked, his eyes searched mine from above his fat cheeks.

"Well," I replied, drawing it out, "since you ask ... I just love your body!" I went on, daringly, "I just adore fat guys, especially huge guys with big, big bellies," I paused.

Colin looked eagerly at me, and as he was obviously anticipating more, I continued. "And your belly is one of the biggest I've ever seen! I love the way your gut fills your polo, the way your belly sits on your thick thighs... you're just ... gorgeous." The beatific smile that greeted my compliments tempted me to go for the gusto in my praise, so I plunged on. "And I love your fat hands, your fat arms, your big chunky chest...."

I hoped that wasn't too graphical or offensive, but his warm eyes reassured me. Then he rested both his chunky hands on that gorgeous belly and asked, "And my appetite? My gluttony?"

"That's the biggest turn-on of all," I replied, enthusiastically.

That answer clearly was what he wanted to hear, as he replied, "I'm turned on by my gluttony! I LOVE to eat, I love to gorge, eating sooo much... I love feeling full, then eating more. I love stuffing myself nearly senseless. And I love eating, knowing it'll all turn into more fat, too, making me even bigger!"

He reached across and took my hand and placed it on his bountiful belly. "Feel that, feel how it's so full, isn't it? I like being SO stuffed I can't move, so I can barely breathe."

My hand sank down through inches of soft fat until I felt the firm ball of his massive, super-full stomach. This was like being in a dream! I was so excited, I couldn't speak. After a moment I let out a little moan.

Reacting to my moan, Colin replied, 'Is it hot in here all of a sudden? Let's go and get some fresh air!'

He pushed back on the chair, sliding it slowly and noisily away from the the table, then stopped and leaned forward. He planted his feet to get up, and I extended a hand to help him balance, though it was really just an excuse to hold onto his well-padded hand. As his mammoth thighs propelled him upwards, his belly settled downwards, a roll of fat hanging out beneath his overfilled shirt. His rugby shorts stayed put beneath his juggernaut of a gut, as they stretched beneath his bulging lower belly in the front, and were skintight across his protuberant fat ass in the back.

I kept holding his hand, and we slowly made our way out - his mother having already paid the bill for his rapacious stuffing.

"Good you're parked close. I wouldn't want to burn off too many calories," he remarked, joking, as we stopped at my nearby car. His tone may have been joking, but his remark aroused me even more.

I opened the passenger door and moved back the seat as far as possible. He sat down, and the car settled at least two inches on its springs. He leaned back, getting his fat legs into the car. I closed the door and hurried to the driver's seat.

The sight was magnificent. Four hundred pounds, no, much more than 400 pounds I was sure of handsome obese boy in my car, with that magnificent belly covering most of his lap. I wanted to say something welcoming, or just friendly, but the site of all his expansive handsomeness left me tongue-tied, speechless. He massaged his taut belly, seemingly unconsciously, then looked at me. Hungrily.

I drove to a secluded place that I thought might have the kind of 'olfactory' assets he would enjoy - a small city park in a ravine beside a large bakery. I opened the windows as I parked the car.

He sniffed, then inhaled deeply the glorious aroma of baking bread. 'God I love it!' he said, rubbing his overstretched gut again. 'The pain after eating so much! Open my door, this gut needs more room,' he went on. The door open, he looked out at the park and proclaimed, 'I am so fat! And I want to eat forever!'

I was about to say something but he swiveled his head towards me and continued.

"This is the first time I've shared my dreams - my longings - with a stranger. But you came along, you chose the perfect place to stop, and I just had to tell you. You need to know - I am a complete glutton - I'm addicted to food! I want to spend every moment of my life eating."

He stroked that handsome belly of his slowly, and when I reached over and rested my hand on the top of its bulge, he sighed. "I just want to be huge, with a huge belly. I want to get bigger than Dad. Sometimes, I dream about being the biggest guy ever, with a belly that just swells and grows and grows! I could eat and eat and eat.... I love those dreams, but sometimes, they're so real they're even a little scary. Does..... does a guy with a belly that big, endlessly eating and growing, a guy who wants to be huge, to be the biggest, to be hungry all the time.... does that sound weird to you?"

"No, no," I replied, aroused from my reverie, "not weird at all." With Colin talking about his dreams, I felt like I had fallen into one of my favourite fantasies!

"Good," Colin continued. "Sometimes I have dreams about a guy who's nearly spherical, completely surrounded by fat.... his arms and legs so fat he can hardly move them. I wake up, and realise that it was me!" He looked at me, expecting, perhaps dreading the reaction. I smiled even more broadly, to set him at ease - and because his dreams sounded like my daydreams about the ideal boyfriend!

"I've had ... dreams about a huge guy like that, too," I replied sincerely. It was making me feeling a touch woozy, talking about this - combining this wonderful conversation about Colin growing with the deliciousness of my dreams of such guys. (https://www.deviantart.com/prisonsuit-rabbitman/art/iruka-s-date-night-469437976...) (https://www.deviantart.com/extrabaggageclaim/art/Arjen-and-Ariel-COMMSISION-8332...)

"So if I became totally fat, the biggest guy ever, a huge hog, a hippo, elephant-sized, so fat and so hungry that I'd be eating all day long, you wouldn't find that disturbing, that wouldn't scare you away?"

"No," I said, and wondered if I was the one dreaming. Before I could pinch myself to check for dreaming, Colin's grew wider, and he grinned with happiness.

"I've finally found someone who understands! I've been waiting for you my entire life! Are you sure this thing getting bigger won't scare you away?" he added, bouncing one fat hand off his gorgeous gut.

"Absolutely not!" I said, then leaned over to hug as much of him as I could reach. "I love what I see of you, and I suddenly want to share your life! If, if you want to grow bigger, I want to help. You will be MY fat guy, my personal fat man. If you want to eat and grow bigger, I'll help you, I'll feed you until you're immense. Heck, if you want to grow and grow forever, I'm good with it." Suddenly inspired, I raised a hand and added, "Here's to immobility, and beyond!'

"You gotta know Toy Story is one of my favourite movies," Colin replied, picking up on my last line. He leaned towards me, his lips puckering. "Let's kiss! Let me know you're for real!"

I kissed him passionately and started touching him everywhere. I pulled up his polo, and he leaned forward so I got it completely off, and the sight of his thick, fat shoulders and massive moobs warmed me further. In the trunk, there was a huge, soft blanket, which I spread on the grass under a nearby tree. Colin waddled over and fell down on it, then pulled me down with him. I stroked his his bloated belly, his lovehandles, his mounds of chest fat, his soft, thick thighs, his balloons of ass, his fat toes and even his fat fingers, even as he worked his plump fingers over me.

'Call me fat,' he whispered into my ear.

'You're fat!" I replied enthusiastically.

"Say it again, like you mean it."

"You're wonderfully fat!"

"I wanna be huge."

"You'll be totally huge! I'll feed you 'til you're huge! Huger!" I added.

He moaned with pleasure, and whispered, "'Say it again. Call me fat, call me a fat hog!"

"You fat hog!"

'Tell me you'll stuff me!"

'I'll stuff you!"

'Make me bigger?"

"Bigger!"

"Massive?"

'Massive!"

'The biggest?"

'The biggest!!"

Then we both came so hard. I never felt anything like it. We were two people alone in the world, nothing else mattered.

We hugged and talked and fondled until about 1 am, when Colin's stomach suddenly gurgled and rumbled with hunger. "I'm still awake, you see," he offered by way of unnecessary explanation, "and my gut needs fed. If I was asleep, I'd sleep through these hunger pangs. Usually. Sometimes I wake up terribly hungry. Like I am right now. Let's go find some food!" he concluded urgently.

Luckily for Colin's hunger, I knew this neighbourhood well. We quickly dressed, and with Colin's girth squeezed back into the car I steered us towards a nearby diner that's open 24/7 - it caters to truckers and shift workers at the bakery. I'd taken a couple of previous boyfriends there, as I knew the place from stopping there with Dad. It's menu, as you might guess, was just right for hard-working (or heavy-eating) guys. So, at 1 am, that's where I took Colin and his grumbling, gurgling gut, wondering just how much he'd eat in the middle of the night.

I need not have wondered. As at any other time of the day, the answer to how much Colin would eat was: a LOT.

First, he ordered the 'Big Trucker's Breakfast'. While that was coming, his tummy started grumbling rhythmically, and he asked the waitress if they had any cereal bars for an appetizer.

'No,' she replied, but I could see her instantly sizing up his youth and his magnificent heftiness. She could probably hear his stupendous stomach gurgling too - I knew I could - and then she made an instant suggestion, one that was perfect for a fat boy with an amazing appetite.

'But we do have pies,' she suggested. 'They're popular with our late night crowd,' she added, causing Colin and me to look around the restaurant. Colin was far from the only fat guy present. His tummy rumbled again, and Colin sudden smiled and said, 'Apple pie a la mode, then. At least two slices.' His order, and his resultant smile, told me that the waitress had guessed Colin's hunger just right.

Colin was just polishing off his third piece of apple pie a la mode when his Trucker's Breakfast arrived. What a feast! He made quick work of the mound of scrambled eggs, the half-dozen sausages, the four pancakes... as he started into the mound of hash browns, he asked the waitress for a double order of French toast. As her eyes re-evaluated and then re-sized his voracious belly, she repeated the order back to him, with a smile. The first plate arrived just as he was munching on the slice of tomato they'd tucked into the side of the Trucker's feast, the plates from his previous order still before him.

A double order of eggs and ham and another two pieces of apple pie later, my heavyweight honey declared himself 'ready to go'. At the cash he took a couple of king-size chocolate bars 'for the road' as he winked at the waitress.

'Anytime you get hungry again dear, you just come on back!' she said as she ran up his bill. She couldn't resist stroking his belly as she handed him back his change - he had hoisted up his generous gut so that his belly was spreading itself gloriously across her counter!

'Thanks, I will!' he said. Once we were back in the car, though, he said quietly to me, 'Now I need to sleep.' I drove him home, but I pulled over at an all night coffee shop along the way and bought Colin a dozen donuts. As I saw him to the door and handed him the pastry box, I asked him if I could see him again that evening. He replied that it would be hard for him to wait that long.

Suddenly tired myself, I hurried home and went to sleep replaying the scene of him gorging in the buffet, the vivid scenes interspersed with some from his one o'clock in the morning 'meal'.

I called him that afternoon and the sound of his sweet voice aroused me - especially as I could tell he was chewing. 'Hi Colin, last night was amazing.'

'I feel the same,' he said.

'So, how about going to the all-you-can-gorge buffet, and this time I'll feed you?'

'Oh Lisa, you read my mind. That sounds great!'

'I hope you're hungry.'

'Well, I'm eating right now - actually I have been ever since I got up. I woke up really, really hungry for some reason - but don't worry, I've always got room for more food - a LOT more food. The buffet sounds great!"

I came around six o'clock and knocked. His mother opened the door, and smiled when she saw me. 'Hi Lisa, come in; Colin told us all about you.'

The father was in the living room eating an enormous meal; he greeted me too.

'Colin is waiting for you in his room,' his father added, between mouthfuls.

As I entered his room, I saw a stack of empty plates, and a jumbo garbage can filled with food wrappers. I closed the door behind me and said, 'Colin?'

He yelled from his private bathroom: 'In a minute.'

When he came out he looked glorious, in a generous, brilliant white and teal striped golf shirt that softly flowed over his stupendously fat gut and chest, and fitted well across his chubby arms and thick, fat shoulders. I was sure it was even bigger than the yellow one he'd worn yesterday! Below, a pair of navy blue cargo shorts stretched across his massive rump, their vast legs showcasing his hugely fat thighs, knees and ankles. He clambered to his feet, then pulled on the waist band of the cargo shorts. "Elastic," he noted, "with a drawstring waist like rugby shorts - for comfort - and capacity!"

'You look amazing!' I said.

'Thanks. You too!' he replied, smiling. He gestured with one fat hand at the nearly full garbage can, and the empty plates scattered around the room. 'Meeting you yesterday has inspired me, you see? I've been lying around, watching TV and eating ever since I woke up'''

'That's great!' I winked. 'Shall we go?'

'Hey, I want to weigh myself first.'

He had a scale in his room? He must be tracking his weight gain, I thought to myself.

'This is Dad's old one, he gave it to me when Mum bought him a new, high capacity one,' he remarked as he stepped onto a broad steel and glass platform in a corner of the room. I noted that it had a remote display mounted on the wall at eye level.

"498!" he said, smiling broadly. "Gotta get to 500!" he added, making me feel momentarily faint. I had been sure last night he was over 400 pounds, but nearly 500? There was no time for me to reflect, though, as he stepped off the scale and then wrapped his pillowy arms around me for a hug - his fat belly pressing into me, making me sink delightfully into his abundant flesh. He let go and exclaimed, "Let's go! 500 awaits!"

As he turned and waddled away, I got a chance to again ogle his magnificent, door-filling back side!.

Out in the yard, he opened the passenger side door of my little car and dropped his big butt onto the seat. As I watched him squeeze his tonnage through the door, and the car sag visibly under his mass, I considered that I'd better convince Dad to buy me a bigger car if I was planning to keep this fat guy - especially if I was planning to keep him getting fatter!

We arrived shortly at the buffet and were seated close to the steam tables. Like his mother the night before, I worked hard to keep the table in front of Colin filled with full plates, while Colin worked hard to empty them. His appetite seemed to have grown since the night before, if that were possible. I fed him and fed him, until he claimed to have eaten even more than he had eaten the night before. I had some proof of this in his having to loosen the drawstring waist of the new shorts, then loosen it again, then finally undo the drawstring completely. (https://www.deviantart.com/lokitu-bear/art/Deal-With-The-Devil-Day-5-848101703)

"I'm filling these so well, they'll never fall down," he remarked to himself, then grabbed the next overflowing plate (of lasagna).

And another plate. And another.

He made a total hog of himself.

And I loved him for it.

Finally, when he could eat no more, I sat with him while he started to digest a little.

"It'll be a few minutes before I can move," he remarked to me. "Why don't you pay the bill while I start to digest? But, first, bring me more juice," he added, then leaned back. His middle was approaching spherical, and the stripes of the golf shirt were distended - a beautiful sight, as the shirt that had flowed so softly when I picked him up now was stretched taut across his full gut.

"I must be the biggest I've ever been," he remarked happily, 'because this is a new, bigger polo that just came yesterday!' As he spoke, one fat hand rubbed gently over his inflated gut.

I paid the bill, and 15 or so minutes later, once he could finally move, I drove him home, where his parents were in the living room, watching TV. Well, his father was watching TV and eating, and his mother was watching TV between trips to the kitchen.

'So, Colin, did she treat you well?' his mother asked as we came in.

'She's the best, mum,' he replied. "See?" he added, and stroked his still-full gut.

'Well, there's food in the fridge for when you get hungry,' his mother assured him, then winked at me.

"Thanks!" he replied, as if this were really news.

We went to his room and he sat, then lay on his bed, for a while, until his stomach gurgled loudly. 'I need something to drink,' Colin said. 'There's probably a pitcher of milk in the fridge. Just bring the whole thing.'

I went, and brought, and got to watch my new, fat, boyfriend chug two litres of milk in seconds. Whole milk, I guessed, by the creamy texture of it.

"I should go to sleep now," Colin then said. "I was up late last night, and I'm tired... and my body has a few pounds of food to process while I sleep. Did you know that if you sleep right after you eat, you wake up fatter?"

Floored by this 'up front' observation, I just smiled, so Colin went on. "We could do a breakfast buffet tomorrow, though.... or lunch. Or breakfast that turns into lunch."

"Sure," I said. "Call me when you get up? Here's my number."

I quietly left the house as Colin got ready for bed. "Will we see you tomorrow?" his mother asked as I walked past the living room.

"I sure hope so!" I replied honestly. "I asked Colin to call me when he wakes up."

"Good," said his mother. "You're welcome to breakfast with us, if you get here early enough."

"Thanks. Good night," I replied.

****

The first few days of our new romance passed in a blur. I did take Colin out to a breakfast buffet the next day - but only after watching him finish off the last of a massive breakfast spread that his mother had prepared for him and his dad. There were dishes there that I'd never heard of, and others that I had never thought of serving for breakfast. Colin ingested them so rapidly, it was like he was an eating machine!. I thought, wrongly, that after such a filling meal I might not get to see him eat again until lunchtime had arrived, but by the time he'd said good bye to his parents, and we'd driven to the breakfast buffet I'd researched (my dad never did buffets in the morning), Colin proclaimed his hunger 'restored'.

And his astounding stomach gurgled to prove it.

Man, did he every have an appetite.

Man, did he ever have capacity.

Man, could he eat.

Man, was I ever falling for him - fast.

In between stuffing him silly with food, I was finding out that Colin and me had a lot of other things in common, or at in complementary, like our shared sense of sarcasm, or his inability to drive (something I love doing). Our tastes in food overlapped (though he ate about forty times what I did) - but he had eaten a lot more things than I had (not just a lot more quantity of things) so he set about introducing me to some of his favourites. I'd never had grilled salmon, or croquettes, or kung pao chicken...

He also taught me how to massage his gut, when he was feeling full. I'd never heard of this - but he liked it, and he seemed to be able to eat more afterwards, so... here's to 'gut massage'!

And the experiment on the blanket got repeated...

And within the week, I'd had him in my own bedroom, once (I need a bigger, sturdier, bed!).

A month into our romance, and into the summer holiday, and I was waking up next to Colin. His parents didn't seem to mind (in fact, I think his mother liked having someone to share the load of filling two fat guys' guts) and I was loving it.

Colin stretched, then draped one fat arm over me. "I'm hungry," he said, and rolled further towards me.

"Time to get up then," I said brightly, and rolled out from under his padded arm. "I've got a snack here for you, but you have to sit up first!"

"Awww..." Colin said, and, grinning, sat up. He leaned towards me, both chubby hands extended. I pulled hard, but it was definitely getting harder to get him up.

"However did you do this before I came along?" I asked.

"I didn't. I rolled over to the edge of the bed, swung my feet over, and let my gut pull me up," he explained.

"Man, I'd love to see that!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, I thought you liked pulling me up."

"I do, but the idea that you're so fat your gut can help you do work is so cool!"

Colin tucked into the 'snack' that I'd brought, while I pulled out some clothes for him. His mother called up the stairs, and I hurried down, to help here with breakfast preparations. Half an hour later Colin came into the dining room, where his mother and I had stacked a restaurant's worth of breakfast goodies... or about enough for the heavily esurient Colin and his equally rapacious, but bigger, Dad.

An hour of steady gorging later, the fat boy and his fatter father both slowed down, as they neared fullness - a state that was ever only temporary for these two!

"Today marks a month since Lisa came into our life," Colin's mother remarked as she started to tidy the dining table, removing empty plates from in front of the humungous, satiated, hunky men. "I think that deserves a little celebration. Plus, I'm noticing that Colin needs some bigger clothes," she added, winking at me, "clearly Lisa has been a good influence on you, son! I suggest once you two have digested a bit, that we head to the mall."

Although I had upsized my car over the month (thanks Dad!), we wouldn't be going in that, as Colin's mother drove a low-floored 'handicapped' bus whenever she was taking Colin's Dad anywhere - and it was more than big enough for the four of us, even when the two men are supersized. The bus kneeled on its suspension for loading, AND it extended a ramp, so there was no step - though Colin could still do steps (in fact, he took great pride in still doing short flights of stairs), steps definitely gave his Dad troubles.

The Big 'n' Tall, mercifully, had doors that opened directly to the parking lot, saving Colin and his dad the tedium of a slow wander through the Mall's hallways - though we would be doing that later, as we took the two blubber boys out for a good lunch after their shopping excursion. At the big men's shop, Colin and his dad were greeted like old friends - which I expect they were, or at least good customers, because where else were guys like my hefty honey and his ponderous parent dad going to buy clothes?

Walking through the mall to the buffet restaurant, Colin and his dad sure attract a lot of stares - and I'm lovin' in, seeing the world seeing my magnificent boy in all his 500 pound glory!

A good Buffet lunch - surely good for another 5 pounds? I'm joking, but Colin's appetite suggests it might be true.....

Then, we go for a nice, slow stroll after lunch.... with many stops - and discuss the future? An expansive future!