Lord Of The Pies Part Two

Part Four
When Arlen's dinner came, we had to laugh. Three plates, no less. Ridiculously piled with cheese enchiladas, beef taquitos, chile relenos, shredded beef tacos, and a fat ol' burrito, the main platter was placed right in front of him; the two satellite plates, one containing ingredients for steak and chicken fajitas, and the other heaped with refried beans, spicy rice, guacamole, shredded cheese and sour cream, were crowded onto the table. Another container filled with warm tortillas was pushed to the very edge of the table, and a hush fell over the nearby tables as restaurant customers surveyed the feast with awe.

Arlen scrutinized the valleys of food, grabbed his fork, took a deep breath, and confidently dove into his dinner. As the minute hand lazily swept the face of the distant clock on the wall, Arlen's dedication and stomach capacity were seemingly without limits. I picked at my tostada, unable to devote any time to it as I watched the extra-beefy hunk in front of me stuff himself with reckless abandon. While his belly had delighted me with its plumped circumference earlier, it now thrilled me with its increasing outbound swell. As he
indulged himself in bite after bite of the fat-filled Mexican standbys, his belly stretched easily to accomodate more and more. When the china started showing through on the main platter, Arlen had to roll himself back in his chair to relax.

"Ooooooff-fff," Arlen sighed, "this is a lot of food."

He put his hand on top of hisbloated belly and slid it down its bowed-out front. A look of surprise came over his face and he looked down gauging the extent of the protrusion under his ribs. Arlen thumped his belly a couple of times; the solid mass barely bounced under his strong hand.
"Wooof.

"My belly is big tonight, huh?"

"Sure is beginning to look that way, big guy. Are you going to be able to finish all that food?"

"Jeez. I dunno. Probably, but there's so damn much of those refried beans and rice."

"Well, tell you what. If you finish all of that, I'll make you a homecooked dinner sometime-- anything you want. Bet?"

"It's a deal!" Arlen's spirits were raised higher with the challenge, and I got the impression he really wanted that homecooked meal by the way he leaned forward and dug in again.

With his tree-trunk thighs spread and big beefy belly bumping the table, he shoveled in food right and left. With the disappearance of the fajitas and last flour tortilla, Arlen leaned back to chew. The hungry stud's belly had ballooned up nice and tight, mercilessly stressing the seams on his nearly translucent tank top. His tank top had inched up his swollen belly during his regular breaks, and it now had become necessary for Arlen to unbutton his top jeans button. A delectable bare expanse of his Italian sun tanned belly pooched out in his lap.

**BURP**

At an adjacent table, a small family watched Arlen as though he was a channel on their TV. I had taken notice of how the young daddy had eaten his dinner, then helped finished his daughters' dinners, and then went on to polish off his wife's dinner. Although not nearly the size of Arlen's prizewinning paunch, the young daddy's belly had swollen considerably-- so much so that he was forced to park his shoulders against the back of his booth seat and just let his big bellyful stick out. Crowded into a patterned polo shirt that had shrunk during his rich meal, the fattened daddy rubbed his rotund belly in lazy circles.

"Good place to eat, huh?" Arlen commented, making sure the fat daddy overheard. Arlen had decided to stop and rub his belly as well, enjoying the big job as his hand traversed the expanse of curved real estate.

"I'll say-- there are bellies poppin' out all over the place in here!" I agreed with him.

"So, Arlen, are you full yet? Are you going to finish that little bit of rice and beans?"

Arlen gave a big sigh and thumped his belly to sound off how solid it had become over the lengthy course of the meal; the fat daddy and I just stared at him. His handsome young face brightened up into a wide smile. "I really want to win this bet-- I want that homecooked meal!"

"You don't have to worry about that, trust me. Besides, if I won the bet, I was going to make you a homecooked meal-- see, it worked out anyway."

"Excellent." Arlen rested his hand atop his widened belly ledge and burped again.

"My belly is pretty full to be stuffin' more rice and beans down right now."

The two young girls at the adjacent table were getting anxious to leave, and the family was soon in motion. The fat daddy seemed most disappointed that he didn't get any dessert and wasn't able to stay longer. As the wife and girls were already headed for the door, the fat daddy took his sweet time hoisting himself out of their booth. With a sort of dazed friendly look on his moustached face, he waddled over to our table. His stretchy knit shirt had pulled out of his beige denim shorts, and his pants zipper was halfway down; the fat daddy's pants button looked perilously close to popping open.

"Excuse me, guy, but I just had to ask what you ordered. God, there is so much food!"

Arlen pulled his shoulders back to accentuate his swollen belly and then brought his hand across its broad expanse.

"It's called the Gordo Especiale."

"Wow. Most impressive, there." The fat daddy reached over with his left hand and patted Arlen's belly.

"Thanks. But you've got quite the overhang there, too, guy."

Arlen returned the patting gesture by landing a gentle punch on top of the daddy's firm protruding belly.

"In fact, you're probably only two tacos away from bustin' right out of those shorts!"

The fat daddy began to laugh, and he had to hold his belly.

"Well, I better catch up with my family."

"See ya!"
I was still a bit dumbfounded by the whole thing, but completely enjoying my hardon as it throbbed in my jeans.

"Damn, that guy's gut was full. It was like trying to push in on an overpumped basketball."

Arlen tested his bloated gut.

"Oh, I thought I remembered feeling something like that before..."

We both laughed. As Arlen had sat there relaxing, his belly had puffed up even more.

"Well, should we get goin'? The movie is going to start in ten minutes!"

"Tell ya what. We're going to be late anyway. Why don't we rent a video and go back to my place?"

"That sounds like a plan. There's just one thing..."

"What's that?"

"Well, I kind of made you a welcome home pie. It's at my place."

"That was really thoughtful of you! Ok, let's get the video and go to your place!"

It was a night that went down in history at Dos Amigos. Arlen lumbered his way out the door with no less than two waitresses, the cook, the dishwasher, and the manager coming out to say goodbye to him and get a look at his bloated round belly. Once outside the door, Arlen unbuttoned a second jeans button in advance of having to climb up into his Chevy.

"You know, it's Friday night. There's bound to be something good on TV...let's just go to your place."

"Oh, Arlen. You just want to eat that pie!"

He smiled back at me, and grunted as he went to get in his truck. Arlen seemed a little winded from making the journey from the pickup to the apartment, so I guided him into the kitchen and got him a beer. I had put out the pie to tantalize him, and he stood at the counter gazing down upon it. Holding up his can of beer, he playfully said "you are now entering the paunch zone" in his deep sexy voice before he guzzled half of it.

Since his back was to me, I was able to surprise him with a shoulder rub. His wide shoulders turned into putty and he leaned back against me. My hands soon ventured under his massive arms out to his pecs. Arlen's meaty pecs were still full of muscle, but they had softened nicely with his added weight. The big well-fed hunk chugged the rest of his beer, belched loudly and proudly, and put the can down on the counter so that he could rest his arms by his sides. He moaned as I played with his big erect nipples.

"Another beer, my big round guy?"

Arlen belched again. "Please."

Not willing to let go, I pulled him over towards the fridge; still leaving one hand on his chest, I reached in and rescued a cold brew for him.

"Here ya go..."

Now repositioned so that my back was touching the counter, I felt him increase his weight against me. My hands traveled south down onto the outward expansion of firm round belly. I had to really reach as my hands smoothed over the fattest bulge, and Arlen moaned quietly as my hands slipped under the bottom of his big full belly where his jeans gaped open.

"Good God, Arlen, your belly is so big!" I whispered up to his ear.

Arlen swallowed hard as I continued to massage under his protruding midsection. He took another long drink of cold beer.

"Yessss....but I'm not complaining any," he truthfully added, closing his eyes as I rubbed his stuffed belly.

"Well, I'm not either, round guy."

I shifted my hands back up to where his belly was the biggest around and shook it gently from side-to-side.

"In fact, I believe that there was something about a pie to be eaten?"

"Oh yeah..."

Arlen sucked his beer can dry and didn't hold back on the belch that followed.

"Say, I've got to use your..."

"Right through there."

"Thanks. I'll be right back."

While Arlen was taking care of urgent business (he had drank more than a sixpack during the evening), I got out the can of whipping cream from the fridge. In the kitchen drawer I had stowed a measuring tape, and I got that out and placed in on the kitchen counter.

Arlen came out of the bathroom and waddled across the dining area to the kitchen. He had taken the time to actually roll his taut tank top up to the bottom of his pecs, and the rolled cotton looked so perfect that it could have been mistaken for a hemmed cut-off. His jeans were still unbuttoned, and his solid round gut looked incredibly huge.

"Jesus. Is that scale in your bathroom accurate?"

"I think it is..."

"It just told me I weigh 245 pounds."

"Really? That's a chunk of weight. But you are 6'2", you know."

"Well, yeah-- but I only weighed 205 pounds two months ago."

"Been eatin' good, huh, Arlen?"

"Awful good." We smiled at each other.

"So, how big of a piece would you like, Arlen?"

"Just get me a fork," Arlen requested in confidence.

"Cool. Whipping cream in a can!"

He picked up the can and filled his mouth cavity full out past his lips and swallowed in stages. I guess the pie seemed bigger than the plate suggested. Its fat-packed pudding vanished like lubricant at a Frat party. Arlen's belly loomed in front of me, and I reached over to stick my finger in his belly button.

"And how was that little pie?"

"Good," Arlen told me, "very good. Rich."

He reached his thick arms up in the air
and gave his long abdomen a deserved stretch. My hand was there to thump his belly.

"Like a watermelon, huh?"

"Yep. Ripe one."

Arlen noticed the tape measure on the counter.

"Hey, let's measure my belly!"
"Sure!"

He didn't have to twist my arm to toss that tape around his swollen paunch. Once I got it around him, he wanted to know what it said right away.

"Guess..." I teased him.

"Forty inches."

"Bigger."

"Forty-two inches."

"Bigger."

"Forty-four inches?"

"Bigger."

Arlen's eyes widened. "Bigger? My God, I only wear size 38 jeans!"

I pushed in against his firm belly.

"Arlen. There are two buttons popped open on
your size 38 jeans, and your belly is throwing some serious shade on your dick..."

He laughed.
"Ok, Ok...Forty-six inches?," he asked with a certain level of uncertainty and anxious disbelief.

"Nope. That's a bit much to hope for tonight."
I removed the tape measure from around his bloated ball of flesh, and patted him several times where his belly appeared most distended. "Forty-five and a quarter inches there tonight, studpuffin."

"Whew. That's pretty large for me, guy. I had a washboard stomach in high school."

"Things change, huh?"

"Yup."

"Wanna watch that movie now?"

"Sure. What's on?"

"Aaah, let's go see what we can find."

As we adjourned to the living room, I had to shift my uncomfortably stiff cock; it was almost more than I could bear. Arlen settled onto the couch, taking up the whole thing, and soon was fast asleep. When he woke up, it was very late. I asked him if he wanted to stay at my place, but he declined.

"See you at the diner?" I asked.

"You bet."

Part Five
The sight of Arlen bursting out of those too-tight black Levis with his tank top rolled up to his nipples was still very much on my mind. In fact, I couldn't think of anything else back in the kitchen when I was getting another piece of pie for a customer. Friday night was still like a dream to me, though I knew for sure that it had happened. Not exactly as I had hoped, but I couldn't complain. I'd never forget that guy coming up to Arlen in Dos Amigos and thumping his gut. I'd never forget Arlen and that pie back at my apartment...

The hours of masturbation spent vividly fantasizing about what I wanted to do with Arlen post-pie had left my cock sore but completely satisfied. I only had to picture Arlen in my mind's eye to spur on another erection.

Saturday had passed. No Arlen. No phone call. Sunday had passed. No Arlen. No phone call. I was hoping he would have come in for the Sunday Dinner Special; Shirley got truly ambitious and cooked up turkey with all of the trimmings. Jennifer had asked where the "big jock guy" had gone to, since she hadn't seen him since before his trip to Italy. I gave her the scoop, and she told me she'd let me know if she saw him come in.

On Tuesday, I was by the Diner's front door when I saw his truck drive up. He saw me looking out of the window at him and smiled at me. Throwing his hat on the seat, he got out and slammed the door. As he sauntered his way to the door, I walked up to meet him.

"Hey there." Arlen greeted, smiling at me through the shadow of a coal-black goatee.

"Hi!"

His faded and threadbare 36" Levis were relaxed in front by one button, and generally appeared painted on to his skin. They looked to be ready to blow a seam at any moment; he must have spent some quality time squeezing himself into them. Up top, he modeled a perfectly ventilated yellow mesh half-shirt. The thing barely counted as a shirt, and loose interpretation of the "no shirt no shoes no service" policy allowed his undisputed entrance into the establishment.

As I led him back to "his" booth, his hot presence caught the eye of Jennifer; her eyes got big like saucers as she looked him up and down.

"Here ya go, Arlen," I said as I pointed out his favorite seat in the diner.

"Here's a menu, guy. I'll be back in a minute."

I felt rushed as Jennifer wildly waved at me to go in the kitchen with her.

"Thanks, Brian."
Jennifer was waiting over by the swinging door to the kitchen still staring at Arlen when I walked up. Before I could ask her what bee had relocated into her bonnet, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the kitchen.

"So, tell me!"

|"Tell you what?"

"What's going on?"

"I don't know yet, sweetie. This is the first time I've seen him since Friday night."

"Oh. Right," she paused. "So, he looks like he put on a little weight in Italy-- gettin' a belly to go along with all of those muscles!"

"Yep. That guy has quite an appetite for food. And he loves beer."

"Sounds like a man, all right. His jeans are filled up and then some tonight; I saw how that top button was popped open. Doesn't look like he's ashamed of the size of his gut at all."

"Not at all. Arlen's pretty comfortable with his newfound girth."

"God, he's handsome, Brian."

She winked at me and then pushed me towards the door. "Now, go get that guy's order. He looked hungry for something when he came in here."

When I returned to Arlen's table, he'd sat the menu down and was looking for me.

"Hey, Arlen. Do you know what you want?"

He hesitated a little bit. "Umm...yeah."

"Ok, guy, I'm a-listenin'."

"Chicken Fried Steak, mashed potatoes, extra gravy..." Arlen trailed off as he looked at me. I smiled as I stood there with my order pad in my hand and pencil poised to capture every detail.

"Well, I'll start with that."

A little over an hour later, Jennifer and I stood in the kitchen peering out at Arlen in his booth. My heart was doing flip-flops, and I almost lost it when Jennifer patted my shoulder.

"Should I go out there and poke him to see if he's done?" she offered.

Not only had Arlen eaten the monster Chicken Fried Steak dinner, but he had also gone on to tackle the barbecued chicken special, a half-pound bacon cheeseburger with fries, a full order of onion rings, and sucked down a giant strawberry milkshake.

"He does look full, doesn't he?"

It was such an understatement that we had to muffle our giggling outburst. Arlen was sprawled back in his bench seat with his belly ballooned out to the table, somewhat able to breathe, but mostly just trying to be comfortable despite his enormously gorged
belly.

"Looks like he should be rolled off to the nearest couch."

"Maybe connect him up to a nice big beer keg and pump cold brew into his belly until it's really bloated...turn his belly into a really tall mountain."

She looked at me kind of funny.

"Well, right now you'd better go ask him what he wants for dessert."

Arlen seemed anxious for my return. As he shifted his amply padded bubblebutt around in the booth, his belly bumped the table edge several wonderful times. His middle had grown into the most perfect round firm bumper.

"Hey Brian. I was beginning to wonder if you'd deserted me."

"Desert you, Arlen? I could never desert you. Dessert you, of course. Speaking of which..."

He hesitated again.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Umm. Well, I need to tell you something."

"Ok."

"Privately."

"We can go back to the restroom, it has a lock."

Arlen let out an extremely deep belch as he hoisted his weighty ass out of the booth. All of that food had filled his belly up so much that it stuck out like a torpedo in front of him. His jeans looked due to necessitate popping a second button, and I was even more grateful for his choice of the mesh half-shirt which showcased his gut like a gold picture frame. He motioned for me to go in front of him, so I led the way; I was reluctant to give up his rear view.
I flicked on the light by the door as I walked in, and Arlen closed the door behind him. I heard the door lock click. Feeling his strong arms go around my waist, I turned towards him as he guided me over against the wall. Arlen pushed me flush against the wall with his firm round bellyful, squeezing the air out of me. My face flushed as my heart pumped blood faster and faster through my veins; my hands instinctively traveled up to his broad shoulders. Arlen's face seemed to float towards mine as our heads tilted naturally to facilitate the liplock that ensued.

I felt absorbed by this big full beefy hunk as he pushed against me harder, relaxing his distended gut more and more. Feeling completely high, I relaxed myself; Arlen's tongue ventured almost forcefully deep inside my mouth, and I could taste strawberry from his milkshake. He framed my face with his strong hands as my hands ventured to his budding love handles. I gave each a good squeeze, finding each to be a good firm handful. As I massaged his fattened love handles, he shifted his attentions to my ear and drove me insane with his adventurous tongue.

Our after dinner delight had reached a feverish pitch, and the hot smell of pre-cum and sweat filled the air as we heated up the small room. It had been a hot summer day, and there was the hot, dry taste of dust that lingered in the air; the only humidity around appeared to be right there with us.

Breathlessly I whispered up to his ear. "I know what you like, Arlen..."

Gently I turned him around, pulling his strong back against the upper part of my chest. My hands drifted down from his erect nipples onto his big swollen belly, traveling in circles over the expanse of hunkgut. His regularly spaced satisfied belches told me that he enjoyed my practiced massage, and he rested his head back against mine.

"Wow, Arlen, feels like you really enjoyed your dinner tonight. The skin on your belly is stretched tight like a drumskin. I should rub some lotion or butter onto my big round guy's gut to keep it supple."

I kissed the back of his neck.

A knock on the door startled both of us. "You about done in there?" a deep voice asked from the other side. I covered Arlen's mouth with my hand before he could answer.

"Just about."

Both of us dashed for the sink and began splashing water on our faces. Trying to look as calm as possible, we opened the door and passed the large bellied trucker leaning against the wall with his legs crossed.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" he asked in an impatient tone.

Arlen and I looked at each other. I looked at the fat trucker and answered

"...washing our hands."

"For fifteen minutes?!"

"We were very dirty."

Then we both turned to leave, trying not to burst out laughing.

Arlen reinstalled himself in his booth, resting his big round belly against the table
edge as he assumed his favorite position. He just looked up at me and gave me a
Cheshire grin.

"Can I get you any dessert?"

"I dunno. I just had something pretty sweet that would be hard to top."

"You can have more of that later. As much as you want. But for right now, would you like a piece of pie?"

"Sure." He said, nodding his head slowly in a self-assured way that sent tingles up and down my spine.

Jennifer intercepted me on the way into the kitchen and dragged me back to a corner.
"What the hell were you two doing in that bathroom? That trucker came out of there complaining that it was like a sauna in there."

I just looked at her and smiled. She gasped and stated emphatically: "You are bad."

"What possible excuse can I offer? When I'm good, I'm bad. When I'm bad, I'm
better."

"Well, you've just made out with a gorgeous guy in the diner's restroom. Now what're you going to do?"

"Get him a piece of pie!"

We laughed.
"What? Like DisneyLand has rides that even compare. Silly girl."

Arlen didn't seem to mind me bringing him generous slice after slice of homemade pie from the kitchen. As his belly continued to swell with tantalizing wedges of caloric dessert and glasses of milk, he became more and more stuck in his booth with his increasing depth. He appeared to enjoy the apple the most, and Shirley was cursing me at feeding the entire thing to him.

"Now there won't be any for the other customers," she complained.

"At least you can't say that it went to waste."

She went over to the counter and peered over at where Arlen sat filling his booth with overstuffed belly. Arlen had sprawled himself again, spreading his legs wide and resting his arms across the ledge grown from his protuberant belly. Although she'd seen her share of round guys, she still appeared to be impressed.

"Holy cow. He's getting fat!"

"Just think. That's all of your cooking in there, Shirley. He could be the poster boy for the diner."

"If he gets any bigger, we could post a billboard on his belly!"

"Now see...that apple pie went for a good cause."

"Along with half the coconut cream, a piece of rhubarb, a piece of cherry, a piece of pecan," Shirley rattled off on her fingers, "oh, and I believe there were two pieces of pumpkin, too."

"Well, almost. The pumpkin pie was for another table."

"What restraint!"

"Nah, that had nothing to do with it. He got full."

"Couldn't stuff any more into that pregnant belly of his, eh?"

"Pretty much. I'd better go check on him."

Arlen looked up at me from his slouched position and slapped his belly.
"Check, please."

We both laughed at the situation.
I reached over and rested my hand atop his firm round bulge. Slowly I let my hand venture over the curved surface; Arlen was so gorged with food that his belly seemed immovable.

"I seem to have lost your check, Arlen." I kept thumping his belly like it were a watermelon.
"Besides, it doesn't seem fair to charge you by the entree or dessert. Charging you by weight or size would seem more reasonable. You know, weigh you in or measure your belly, and then do the same on the way out. Charge you a flat fee per pound or inch gained."

"More like a fat fee. I can't believe how much weight I've gained in the last couple of months. I'm really starting to get fat!"

"Well, I don't mind it at all. You look hot to me, guy."

"Thanks, but I should probably get back to the gym. God, it's been months since I've been there. The guys probably think I died or something. Why don't you come with me tomorrow?"

"Ok, that sounds good. I don't have to work, and hey-- I can make you that homecooked meal we talked about on Friday."

"Cool."

"So, what do you want, Arlen?"

"Anything. I'll eat anything."

"Sure. I'm counting on it," I told him, patting his luxurious expanse of studbelly.

"So, that's tomorrow. What time do you get off tonight?"

"Around the same time you get to my apartment. See you at ten?"

"No question."

Part Six
Immediately I began to wonder if Arlen's workout shorts should have had a load limit posted on the tag inside the spandex waistband. Of course, spandex is built to stretch, but one can only wonder for how far and how long. There was nothing left to the imagination as far as Arlen's anatomy was concerned once he pulled up those glistening black shorts to ride below his fattened ball of muscle belly. You could tell for sure he enjoyed the fit by his semi-hard dick that announced itself with a detailed outline under the stressed material. Arlen painted on an old tee-shirt that more than adequately dumped belly out of the front of it and then stood there ready to go out to the workout area.

"Are you ready?" he asked me.

"You bet."

We both walked out of the locker room and made our way to the free weight section where there was a grunting and sweating group of well-developed guys. The flat bench press was free, so Arlen led the way over to that as our first workout station. As I took another peek around, I noticed that the guys in the gym ranged from plain beefy to very well-fed, and I fought the constant urge to rub my crotch to tame my perpetual erection. Arlen decided to take his reps first, and he slowly positioned himself under the bar after I'd placed a 45lb weight on each side for his warm-up.

One of the guys over at the dumbbell rack seemed very interested in the way that Arlen's belly button poked out of his mercilessly stretched old tee-shirt. Even lying on his back, Arlen's solidly muscled belly pushed up in the air like a tall round mountain
majestically rising from a plain. While Arlen tossed the ninety-plus pounds up and down in the air like a bag of popcorn, the inquisitive young guy swaggered over our way brimming with self-confidence. He waited for Arlen to set the weight back down before planting his
hand on the exposed part of Arlen's fattened belly and thumping it several times.

"Well, well, well...what do we have here?"

Arlen lifted his head up and gazed at the guy.

"Josh, how the hell are ya?"

Arlen's eyes shifted to the guy's middle, which protruded like he'd swallowed a basketball. Arlen sat up and slapped the guy's belly in a mutual belly admiration ritual.

"Great! God, I haven't seen you around here for a long time. Where the hell have you been?" Josh asked him, not giving up on poking or patting Arlen's belly for even one minute, "And what have you been feeding this thing?"

"Oh, lots of stuff. And how about this, Josh?" Arlen slid his hand under Josh's overhanging belly and gently bounced it up and down.

"Oh yeahhhh, all married and fat now, dude." Josh reported, running his hands under his belly and shaking it a little, but Josh continued to gaze upon Arlen's welldeveloped midsection with interest.

"So, that wife of yours is some good cook, huh?" Arlen queried, liking the solid controlled way Josh's belly shook under his hand.

"Feeds me like a prize hog...it would have been hard for me to grow a gut like this alone..."

Josh paused and put his hand back down on Arlen's big round belly and shook him from side to side.

"What's your excuse, big guy? You've blown up quite the big fat belly since I saw you in here last. Hey Todd, come here a minute!"

Arlen twisted his head in the direction in which Josh had spoke, and watched as another one of his former workout buddies approached with widened eyes. Todd was no lightweight himself, and was somewhere between just-beginning-to-gain and where Josh had congratulated himself on a job well done.

"Whoa...Arlen?!"
Todd played uncertain of their acquaintance with a pleased look on his face.

I stepped out of the way to the end of the bench as Josh and Todd took up positions on either side of the still-reclined Arlen.

"Hey Todd."

Josh leaned over again and thumped Arlen's firm round belly.

"Look at the size of this guy's belly. Go ahead-- feel this plump fucker!"

Todd leaned over to take over where Josh had left off. Todd did a pretty thorough job in surveying Arlen's fattened gut with his hands, and I could see by the increasing pump on Arlen's cock that he enjoyed the attention.

"Man, you're a fat boy now, Arlen. Nice gut, big guy," Todd moved his head around for different angles, "you've gotten b-i-g since I last saw you!"

While Arlen had been quiet during his "critique", he broke his silence with a deepseated belch that had been stirred loose from all of the belly rubbing he'd received.

"Ooof."

"Excuse me! Yeah, I've been putting on some weight," Arlen told them, "too much food and beer."

"Oh come on, there's no such thing as too much food and beer. Just gotta keep buildin' onto your belly to make sure you have room for it all, right, Todd?" Josh asked, taking a poke across the extra-beefy Arlen at Todd's reserved little belly.

"Yep, it's an ongoing project. Some guys are more ahead than others, right, Josh?"

Todd returned Josh's belly poke, exaggerating the depth in which his finger sank.

"Yeah, well, we just need to find you a woman that'll strap you to a chair and force feed you until you've got some respectable ballast there in front."

"So, what's your secret of success there, Arlen?"

"I dunno. Just have had a big appetite lately, and I spent about a month in Italy."

"Italy? What happened to that big construction job outside of town?"

"I'm still there; I just got sent to Italy for something else."

"So. A month of Italian food. That must have been pretty awesome, huh?" Josh asked, not able to resist thumping Arlen in the gut.

"Night after night of huge bellyfuls. I was always ready to split out of my clothes like some big fat caterpillar."

"Cool...I know what you mean about the caterpillar thing," Josh patted his belly as he spoke, "my wife and I went out to dinner the other night and she made me dress up. She made me squeeze into one of my old fitted dress shirts and a tie to go eat at this banquet for one of her organizations. I was like totally surprised when I found out it was buffet style and you could keep going back for more, so I did-- like five times. And it's like turkey, ham, roast beef, and mashed potatoes, so picture that my gut is like completely bloated about twice its size and sends one of the shirt buttons flying off into space. Believe me when I say I was *solid*. My tie covered it, but it was so obvious I was like seriously ready to bust at the seams. My wife kept poking me in the belly and handing me more desserts all night-- good thing there was plenty of beer so I didn't get too embarrassed."

"That's quite a story," I spoke up.

"Oh, sorry, you haven't met Brian!"

Arlen grunted as he sat up on the bench.

"Josh, Todd, this is Brian."

We all said the 'hi, nice to meet you's and shook hands. They still looked at me like they weren't sure what to think, and I still looked at them with lust.

"Well, we better get back to work here..." Josh tapped Todd on the shoulder and they were off.

"Nice guys," I said.

"Yeah."

Arlen soon grew tired from the exertion of continually getting up and sitting himself back down. The weights were heavy, but nothing compared in effort to maneuvering his newfound bulk around a confined space. It seemed that Josh and Todd were never too far away, and ended up in the locker room at the same time we did. Arlen and I both showed miraculous restraint in the shower, as our cocks remained at a half-salute while they longed to be full-staff and bobbing up and down. When all was washed and done, part of the most interesting show in the locker room was Josh applying his clothing.

While Arlen was putting on his brand-new pair of 40" Levi's and buttoning them up with moderate effort, Josh toiled at mating the buttons of his faded old pair of 501's; the crinkled patch on his waistband read 34" and removed all doubt concerning the age of his favorite denims. The padding of Josh's bubblebutt contributed to the level of effort required to button his jeans, but the main obstacle facing the top two buttons was pure solid belly. Still shirtless, Josh took a breather from getting his jeans buttoned all the way up and strutted around the locker area. Sucking copious amounts of air in and inflating his fat belly into a taut ball, he marched up to Todd and bounced his well-rounded belly against Todd's arm.

"Arlen, look at this. Josh can't get his jeans buttoned around his fat belly!"

Josh puffed his cheeks and shook his ass over to Arlen. Josh kept his belly inflated big as he pushed it into Arlen's bigger mass of well-developed table muscle. Josh let the air out in a burst as Arlen reached over and pushed in firmly against the married guy's belly.

"C'mon, Arlen. Let's go out tonight and stuff ourselves," he said authoritatively.

"That's a great idea, but..." Arlen looked over at me knowing that we had already
made plans for the evening.

Josh cast a look in my direction, "Oh, sure, your friend can come too!"

I smiled at Arlen and he knew it was fine with me.

"Sure! What place did you have in mind?"

The line for the buffet was long, and it was to be expected that the kitchen staff was put behind in getting enough pizzas out on the lengthy expanse of counter. I still remembered Arlen's deep voice quietly suggesting Little Big Men's pizza 'n stuff buffet followed by quick acceptance from Josh and Todd both. Fresh hot pizza seemed to disappear from the three hunks' plates like a summer rain evaporates off pavement.

Competition was fierce as hungry glances shot around the table in thinly veiled attempts of psyching out the eager contenders for the table's eating title. Slice after slice of pizza slid down waiting gullets lubricated by a constant stream of ice cold keg beer.

Arlen decided to make things interesting by grabbing a heaping plate full of spaghetti and meatballs; Josh and Todd were incented to dish themselves the same.

Arlen's gorgeous round belly continued to swell seductively beyond his new 40" jeans, ripe and ready for the most formidable competition. Clad in another old tee-shirt that he appeared to have fished from some deep dark depths of a forgotten closet, Arlen was putting the old seams to the test. The hem had slowly inched its way up to bare sinfully tanned belly as he'd inhaled pizza, and now piles of pasta.

Josh had never gotten those last two buttons to reach on his painted-on 501's, and was thankful for the extra room it afforded his aggressive appetite. With most of a large pizza, a pitcher of beer, and a pound of spaghetti packed into his belly, Josh nursed his swollen gut with a protective rubbing hand as he got up again to go back for more. Todd had surprised me and probably everyone else with his capacity; his beginning belly had much more than a beginner's bulge. He got up right behind Josh and slid his hand around under Josh's heavily protruding belly.

"All right, Sausage Boy, ready to give up?"

Josh had to only reach down from where he stood to thump Arlen's well-fed belly.

"Like I'm even competition for *this* behemoth. I don't care...I'm gonna keep eatin' anyway."

Todd tried to pull up on Josh's tight gut, coaxing a startled grunt from the fattened hunk.
"Jeez, Josh. Where are you puttin' all of this food? Your gut feels like a rock now!"

Josh laughed as he turned to slip Todd's hand off of his gut to latch on to Todd's modestly grown bulge. He heartily smacked Todd's belly to sound out how thick and full it had become, noting "not bad, Todd, not bad."

Sometime after we'd decided to adjourn to Arlen's apartment for more beer and sometime before Josh and Todd had reached their upper limit, it was agreed that we would play 'pizzabelly roulette' to determine who was buying the beer with Arlen being our gambling instrument. Each one of us would go get Arlen a slice of pizza, and at the point he couldn't pack any more in and quit on that piece, the person who brought that piece would get to buy the beer for the evening.

After the first time around the table, Arlen's belches were getting louder as he began to chew slower and slower. Arlen was happily gobbling down the pieces I brought him, but teased Josh and Todd with their pieces as he put his hand down and let his eyes glaze over in ultimate over-satisfaction.

Josh got anxious about being stuck with buying the beer and began talking to Arlen's belly.

"Come on, s-t-r-e-t-c-h!! I know you can do it...just another swallow..."

Arlen's incredibly bloated belly stuck out distantly in front of him, and he was so languidly reclined in his chair that I thought he'd break the back off of it. It wasn't until another complete large pizza had been successfully stowed away in Arlen's titanic tummy that he proclaimed himself 'full'. Josh was over at Arlen's side at that point, being that Arlen was attempting to finish engulfing the piece he'd brought, massaging the firmly gorged belly and egging him on. I thought that Josh would shove the rest down Arlen's throat forcefully at that point, but he gave up a good-natured laugh as he "won".

"Nope, no more, Josh," Arlen breathed. "One more bite and you'll see what happens to a balloon when you blow it up with too much air."

Todd leaned forward with awe towards Arlen, "My God. I can't believe how big your gut is, Arlen."

Actually, no one could, but everyone was convinced that it was time for more beer.

"OK then, let's stop at the Safeway on the way to Arlen's place."

"Let's do it," Josh said, scratching his overstuffed belly.