Ben stood in front of the full length mirror, backing up a few steps to fit his whole body in the frame. After two years of steady weight gain, he barely recognised the fat man staring back at him. His eyes worked up and down, taking in his immense size. He breathed in and out pushing his gut out as far as it would go and admiring the curviture of his body.
Looking down he saw nothing beyond his own swollen fat chest and belly stretched far out more than a foot in front. Even his nipples were long gone from view, folded into the roll of blubber on the other side of fat boy tits. He reached down, gathering as much of his heavy overhanging blubber into his arms as he could and lifting it to expose his crotch to the mirror. He remembered when I first told him I wanted him too big to jerk himself off, how excited I was watching his manhood progressively shrink into his fat rolls. He tried to free one arm to reach down and see what was left but his overhanging belly spilled out of his remaining arm burying his crotch under a roll of blubber. He grunted, taking a deep breath and thinking about trying again but laziness and the warning signs of impending hunger were taking over. He turned slightly letting the middle fold of his fat torso, just over his love handles deepen and tracing the stretch marks with his fingers all the way up to his chest.
Ben pushed his tits together, Â feeling the softness and his sensitive stretched out nipples. He grabbed a handful of the each of the sides and jiggled the fat, smiling to himself. Fuck I wish these were bigger he thought, envying the chest size and pure flabbiness of record breaking fat men he spent hours browsing online at. Tits were a major focus point of ours, he loved how much attention I gave them, squeezing his chest rolls through his shirt when we were out in public to get his attention, lifting his shirt while I embraced him knowing I would be deep in his chest in a fraction of a second my tongue in the fold between them and the top of his gut, sucking and biting on his nipples so he would squirm, making all his blubber shake and bounce between us and turning me like nothing else.
I stood leaning on the door frame of our bedroom, admiring my fat boy lost in himself, appreciating my work fattening him up and playing with his own blubber. I donât want to waste my time telling you about me on his big day. Five foot seven, 255lbs somewhere about half of Benâs weight, meaty, footballer player build with plenty of it in my thighs and ass, shaved head with a few days stubble. I had started out the lighter of the two of us but that lasted not even a month of our regular routine of drive through visits, morning donuts and late night binges, me rubbing his belly and massaging his chest as he ate.
I watched Ben knowing what was going through his mind, how into his own body he had become the last year. The rolls the folds, the softness, how he bounces and wobbled all over every time he moved now. But what really turned him on the most was just how much he had grown, the limitations imposed by his own size, how much space his new body took up and how far his huge belly stretched out far in front of him. That really penetrated deep into Benâs mind, was what he found most enjoyable and what kept him piling on the lbs . We were both always exchanging glances and laughing to each other when he tried to waddle through spaces, bumping furniture with his fat ass that he would have cleared with inches to spare just a year ago or when he reached out, bending down to retrieve something, forgetting he was a fat boy now, his huge mass of belly fat freezing him midway and making him grunt and call for my help.
I watched him a few mins more as he enjoyed himself exploring his body, I had no doubt he was as heavily aroused by playing with himself as I was watching him. His cock however was completely hidden from view, deep under that enormous belly overhang and buried in pubic fat while mine tented prominently leaving a wet patch on the front of my gym shorts. Only the way he started at himself in the mirror smiling and staring intently gave it away. I waited maybe 10 seconds before I could stand it no longer and slipping through the half open door, I had to get my hands on my fat boy.
It was easy to sneak up on him from behind. His body blocked the whole mirror and he was distracted playing with himself. Slipping my arms around his lower back roll just above his ass I embraced my fat boy in a hug from behind, squeezed gently against the rolls of blubber and pushed the sides of his gut up, something I know he liked because it made him look fatter. Ben turned sideways, bringing my muscled frame into view alongside his own in the mirror.
âWhat the fuck have you done to me?!?â he grunted out in his heavy midwestern accent.
-âI donât know what youâre talking aboutâ
âThis!â He grunted again, picking up the furthest section of his gut in his chubby hands, a mass of blubber that he had put on in the last few months that hung lower the rest and letting it fall. âIâm fucking huge, have you seen me latelyâ
-âYeah, Iâve noticed you put on a few lbs this weekâ I replied squeezing deeper and making all his rolls of fat wobble and bounce off each other.
âWill you stop enjoying yourself for a minute measure me?â
âItâs always about you, isnât itâŚâ I laughed back
-âOkay donât then, just stay there all day, letting me go hungryâ he answered back, his eyes returning to our reflection in the mirror. Ben rolled his shoulders back and letting out something between a grunt and a growl, he leaned  forward, pushing his mammoth gut out as far as it would go and spreading his ass cheeks. Pretending to stretch he leaned back trapping the wet patch of my gym shorts between his beach ball sized ass cheeks. He lowered his voice and locked my eyes in the mirror.
-âPlease babyâŚI feel so much fatterâ
âAlright, let me get the tapeâ
I pulled my hands slowly from under his gut and walked across the room, leaving him to admire himself a few moments more. I stepped over a pair of 6XL shorts with a jock strap tanged inside and to my beside table. It was covered in remnants of last nights fun. I screwed the lid back on a tube of lube and tucked it out of view. Â I grabbed a series of wrappers, rolled them into a ball and went to stuff them in a three tub stack of Ben and Jerryâs.
-âDonât waste that!â I heard Ben holler across the room.
-âThe last of that tub, Donât waste it!â
I looked inside at a third of tub of congealed ice cream and chocolate, sloppy and sticky, I stirred the gross bit at the top into the molten chocolate and cream with a spare spoon.
âI thought you finished all last night?â
-âNope bring it hereâ
Holding the sticky tub of ice cream remains in one hand I pulled open the drawer and dug around for the 120â tape I kept handy. Grabbing it with one hand, I dumped the trash into the pile in our bedside trash can. âCome on!â I heard a grumpy, impatient Ben say from the other side of the room. I couldnât tell if he wanted the ice cream or the tape more. He had gotten so fucking greedy recently. Anything I put in front of him disappeared within minutes. I regularly came home to an empty fridge and a pile of garbage on the counter.
I walked across the room and stood in front on him his gut pressed up to my flat stomach. Ben stared at me and then at the ice cream, visibly drooling and licking his lips, silently ordering me to feed it it to him. Â I raised the sticky tub to his mouth as he tilted his head back, the fat mass under his chin moving to the roll at the back of his head where his neck used to be. The liquid mess sliding down the wax side of the tub and into his waiting mouth within a fraction of a second it was in his belly resting comfortably on top of a still half full belly from last night. he licked the rim of the tub, catching the last drips of melted ice cream. Tossing the tub aside, I returned to Bens body, examining the mass of blubber I knew every inch of. He was right, his gains had been out of control recently, visibly fatter almost everywhere.
âOkay, lets do thisâ I said looping the tape around his back. He smiled back at me, my happy growing fat boy, shifting himself so he could me wrap the tape around his girth. âHere hold thisâ I said, Ben dutifully responding by pinning the metal tab of the tape to his fat gut just next to his belly button with his chubby finger. He wasnât the flabbiest of fat guys, but it still sank into his belly blubber a half inch. He was far too fat for me to reach round and grab the tape, so I walked round him securing the tape in the one gap between his copious rolls of fat just at his lower back. Stretching it round the other side, making sure it was over his biggest flab roll and didnât slip between them. It sounds hard but after dozens of times in the last two years I had perfected the motion. I laughed a little and Ben knew why. Doing this always made me think back to when he was in the mid 200âs and it was a quick 10 second Sunday morning job. Reaching his belly button, my fingers fumbling over the deep hole in an ocean of blubber, my cock twinged and I took the other tab, ignoring the dirty thoughts in my mind.
âRelaxâ I said and he let his hands fall and rest on his side. â101.4â
-âNo way, check againâ
â Iâm telling you, itâs 101â
âYes Iâm sure, how many times have I done this, almost every week for two years, you baby⌠are 100 inches of pure blubberâ
-âHere let me seeâ he tried to look down, shifting gaze down, expanding his belly girth and making the tape pop from my fingersâ I laughed
âYou know better than that, donât you trust me?â
-âYes of course, I trust you, I knew it was coming, i just wanted to see it for my self, WOW⌠100 fucking inches round, thatâs fucking amazing, itâs really great, I never thought⌠Well I knew we were almost there but I still canât believe itâ
Ben looked so excited, like all his dreams had come true, he put his hands on me, pulling me in as close as a man with a 100â gut can. I let me body sink into the flabby fat mountain that was a severely obese Ben. I reached my hands round as far as they would go leaving a 2 foot gap spread across his love handles and back. As I pulled him close his belly between us pushed his huge fat boy tits up into his face and kissed him. Silly fat boy, I could still taste chocolate ice cream on his tongue. Ben forced his thick greedy tongue into the back of my mouth with the same force that he used when demolished slices of cake and chewed donuts.
-âI love youâhe panted through his usual heavy laboured breaths.
We seldom had heavy make out sessions standing, it was just too difficult to get around all the blubber in his belly, tits and neck rolls. He took the hint and waddled over to the bed his ass cheeks colliding into each other as he took each step. Collapsing on the bed his ocean of body fat wobbling, he shifted his massive weight and heaved his butt on to the protesting mattress. We weâre one of those noisy couples the downstairs neighbours, if we had any, would hate. As many extra slats and reinforcements I had added to the bed, even bolting it to the floor, we went through two mattresses in the last year and I couldnât stop metal springs screaming under Benâs weight as he shifted to get comfortable.
Using his lard buried muscles he shifted his body back an inch at time, breathing heavy and making every pound of blubber wobble and bounce until he found a comfortable spot. His body spread out coving an area about four feet wide. Benâs tits rolled to the side almost touching the mattress beneath him and allowing him to rest his hands just above his gut, somewhere where his ribs would be if they werenât buried deep. He hugged his own body and smiled in ecstasy, mediating on his own huge size, how he never felt sexier and one of his ultimate dreams finally being reality.
I climbed on top starting at his overhang worked my way upwards, tickling his side rolls with my tongue and making him squirm and wiggle, his stretch marked skin visibly struggling like swollen a fat filled ballon, more moisturiser needed on those spots during our nightly pre bed routine, I made a mental note. I settled for a moment on his three inch wide nipples, nuzzling my face into those fat filled manboobs. Some guys nipples remained the same as they grew, Benâs had always stretched outwards, expanding to their current size as his chest swelled up with one of the most impressive sized pair of fat boy tits I had ever seen on a man. I didnât know it that natural or from all our heavy nipple play, the hour or so I spent enjoying them as he dug into pints of ice cream every evening. He moaned hard and moaned harder again as I sucked on them, biting gently, he shifting his hips so his under belly rolls and swollen fat pad rubbed against his buried cock. Something I really preferred he didnât do during our nightly feeding sessions as it quickly exerted him, wasting energy and precious calories, but had become irresistible to Ben as our session got hotter and heavier and he simply gotten too big for me to reach both his cock and chew his hyper sensitive nipples at once.
I really didnât want Ben getting too worked up this early in the morning, so I moved swiftly upwards to his neck roll and second, (maybe third?) chin. I really couldnât tell generally there was one thick roll of blubber circling what had been his neck that restricted him tilting his head too far forward or back, but when he lay down with a big happy grin plastered on his chubby face, or laughed as my tongue tickled his blubber rolls a third smaller one appeared and disappeared.
âYou knowâŚâ I said resting my head on his chest. âItâs really just a number, itâs not like everything you gained until now is any differentâ Ben gave me his massively overfed puppy dog, why did you stop eyes. The same pleading look he always gave me since he had both grown well beyond pleasuring himself in any meaningful or satisfying way and become far too lazy to even try.
-âYeah⌠itâs a big numberâ
âA fucking huge number, three digitsâ I teased back, playing with my fat boy, rolling the blubber from where it had pooled on the opposite side of his chest, so it resembled its usual fat self, with half of Benâs nipple hidden and the tip rubbing off the edge of his under tit roll.
-âYou know I donât want to stop, I love everything about thisâ he panted, reaching down and grabbing his under belly roll with both hands, easier now gravity wasnât fighting him, he hugged his massive roll of overhang close to his body.
âDonât worryâ I laughed, âitâs not going anywhere, and Iâm incredibly proud of you. Youâre my prize fat boy, huge and perfect in every way.â
-âGood, I worried you were going soft on meâ he grunted back to his normal gruff self, releasing his overhang roll of blubber back to rest on to his thighs and slapping his belly, sending a ripple through the soft, doughy outer most layer of his immense fat belly. âI know youâre into this as much as I am, I see you staring at this thing, practically droolingâ
âYeah, me go soft on you, I spent all morning at the gym. Only one of us goes soft, in this houseâ I laughed sticking my finger into the deep hole in a sea of blubber that was once a belly button.
-âSo are we going out to celebrateâ
âNow, if youâre hungry???â Now it was his turn to laugh.
-âHow many years now, 2-3? When have I ever not been hungry, this thing is constantly rumbling, Iâve been sitting here half the morning waiting for you to come back. I hope you picked up food.â The man could focus on only two things, his cock, his belly or in most cases both. For the record I had never neglected to walk through the front door without a hot, greasy bag of something fried, rolled in sugar and served in a family size container. Not once in two fucking years had I let the gas gauge in my truck or my my partnerâs insatiable gut hit the half empty mark.
âThereâs a tray of cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, with a cup of extra Jizz and one of those half and half blended coffees milkshakes you likeâ but donât fill up. I want to go out to lunch.
-âOkay, sure. Just bring me two to snack on while I get ready.
I had Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, sucking calories from a cup of syrup and half and half the size of a bucket. Getting a guy his size ready to go was a time consuming task. Showering him down on a metal bench we had built specially and was capable of holding twice his weight was the most time consuming part. Mostly because he would spread his legs and let his belly hang down between them and I couldnât help parking my stiff cock in his belly button now it was no longer confined to tight gym shorts. But we had gotten every inch of him scrubbed down and into the roomiest pair of grey sweat pants I could find in his drawer of clothes that looked too big and oversized to fit anyone else, but on Ben nestled not quite snuggly enough to show off all of my fat boys rolls to the extent I liked but enough so they stayed up without him having to keep tugging on the waistband as his rolls made their usual seemingly independent efforts to wobble and bounce out of the clothing covering a man that was clearly too fat to be wearing anything at all.
I always waited to help Ben dress before I put on my own clothing, he enjoyed a naked muscle bound chaser manhandling him into clothes, hugging his belly and squeezing his love handles as we went and I didnât have to get my own T-shirt damp and sweaty as I helped him manoeuvre the rolls of flesh into clothing and  get him to his feet. âHey what shirt do you wantâ  Ben pulled back hard on the straw taking a mouthful of cream into his bulging chubby cheeks as he considered his options.
-Whichever one you wantâ he splurged, catching a splodge of whipped cream with his tongue and pulling it back into his mouth. I grabbed a thin white T-shirt from the top of the pile and pulled the almost empty cup Ben was digging around for the last drips of cream in from his grasp. He grunted, unsatisfied with being denied the pool of sweet fattening goodness at the bottom of his cup.
âCome on we need to get movingâ
-Alright, lay it on meâ he said impatiently.
I gathered up the handfuls of the sheet sized cotton shirt into my fists, pulling it over his arm and head. I negotiated the shirt down over his chest, adjusting his fat tits as I went and pulling it to the bottom of his belly where it stretched even thinner. It looked too small, the fabric stretching as Ben breathed in and out, but I knew once we got him standing we would be good. I slipped on his socks and sneakers and held out my forearms for him to grab.
âCome on baby, time to goâ
Ben rocked back and forth twice, although his ass, chest and thighs were all massive most of his weight resided firmly in his fat belly, when standing he looked almost spherical, an immense fat blob with a head and limbs. He was getting to the stage where even with my help he some momentum to get himself off the edge of the bed. Benâs  feet hit the floorboards causing them creak and dip a fraction of an inch. I let go of his forearms, bracing myself as his weight pushed me backwards and I caught the side of his gut taking a few dozen pounds of weight off his leg muscles.
-âYeah, I got thisâ he huffed. âAll goodâ
âFirst step is the hardestâ I replied, rocking his flab back and forth, letting his legs adjust to taking his body weight. Ben reached a standing position his gut still hanging down, he extended his legs, taking the full weight of his belly and returning it to its normal position outstretched far in front of him. I reached round the back of his sweat pants, pulling them up over his ass fat and adjusting the elastic waistband to fit between two of his back rolls, before I tucked the front firmly under his overhanging gut. I pulled down the cotton shirt over his gut, barely hiding it from view under the thin, stretched fabric. He wobbled from left to right letting it adjust to all his rolls and folds.
âGod youâre an immense fat hogâ I said out loud without thinking.
-âYupâ Ben smiled back, âI really am, arenât I? Now get your own clothes on, I canât fucking stand here sweating all day. This 100â tank needs fillingâ He pushed me out of the way with his gut and huffing and puffing reached past me to grab the cup I had left on the table by the bed. Knocking the top off with his chubby fat fingers, he stared unblinking at the clump of cream and chocolate syrup like a bright shining prize at the bottom that almost escaped him. He brought it to his lips letting the mass of calories slide into his waiting fat face. He pulled it back rolling his tongue over his face to catch most of the rim of chocolate on chin roll and held it up examining it to make sure there was nothing left at the bottom. A small drip of chocolate syrup left on the rim of the plastic slowly fell, leaving a sticky tail between the cup and Bens clean white shirt. He shrugged and tossed it in the mounting pile of trash. I had my jeans and shirt on by then and was just wrestling with the last boot.
-âOkayâ he grunted, turning his momentarily satisfied belly towards the door âletâs get out of hereâ
As Ben had proved serious about about meeting our goals  it had quickly become necessary to trade my old house down to a rambling ranch style one with wider hallways and a total of three steps, one in the garage and two on the front front porch. I also took out the old enclosed shower and retiled the bathroom, remodelling our home to better accommodate my babyâs growing body and more limited mobility had become a fun past time. He would park his ass in an extra wide recliner, his belly over the edge of the arm rests of the chair and watch football in the living room, a sport I had never gotten into, coming from outside the USA. Yelling at the big screen Tv through mouthfuls of nachos and fried chicken, or working his way from one end of a giant burrito bigger than my forearm from this place nearby he loved and washed down with plenty of beer he often watched two or three games in a row his fat chins bobbing up and down, his mouth working overtime on his supply of game day snacks as his piggy guys were fixed squarely on meaty football players asses and trim waistlines as they ran around the field. While he enjoyed his me time, I would work on our older style home, shirtless and with a tool belt slung over my hips I retiled the bathroom, expanded the door ways, added a few extra reinforcements to our bed.
Ben waddled through the living room passed his recliner, his mammoth ass cheeks looking like two jelly filled beach balls bouncing off each other other trying to knock him off balance, it was only the forward pull of the weight from his belly that kept his momentum going forward once the started waddling in any direction. He paused for a moment to catch his breath by the front door, leaning on the wall, waiting for me to open it. Walking out into the drive and the door of the truck the sun caught his forehead and eyes, and he started to get visibly uncomfortable almost immediately, beads of sweat rolled down his fat cheeks and multiple chins. Ben spent almost all his time in doors, enjoying comfortable air conditioning that was necessary for a guy his size. He hated being warm and grumbled lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off and exposing his round fat belly and even fatter man tits for anyone who happened to be walking down our street or in their front lawns. I swear he made them jiggle a little extra on purpose as he wiped his forehead, making a patch of his shirt even more see through. I had the engine running and the A/C on full blast in the truck waiting for him, he just needed my help to get in it. He manoeuvred his backside to the edge of the seat and, one foot on the extra heavy duty running board the auto shop and installed in my truck and a firm grasp on the side handle he pulled himself up six inches.
-âUnnnmmmpphhh⌠I canât get up, help meâ
âYeah you canâ I replied, wrapping my arms under the sweaty over hang of belly flab and taking some of the weight off his leg until he could the edge of his huge ass on to the leather seat and his second leg up. Grunting like an animal and using every ounce of strength he had he, with me taking a good few lbs of weight off by holding his belly, Ben edged his ass back two inches at a time until he was into the seat.
I kept the passenger seat permanently back as far and as low as it would go. Ben was as short as I was and had lost a few inches as he grew outwards and sideways. Even so the the 10 inch thick layer of blubber that cushioned his ass basically had the effect similar to sitting on a stack of phone books, lifting him up an extra half a foot and left him with a lone inch or two of head room. The leather seat did a good job of cushioning his back fat into a comfortable position and although there was no way in hell it could contain his love handles we had done a pretty long road trip last month without him needing to get out and stretch too often. Flying anywhere was out of the question for us. The problem was likely to be his belly which was almost at the edge of his knees when he spread apart his legs apart and was fast approaching the dashboard. I could see his shirt had ridden up exposing his belly button which was about 4 inches from the passenger side glove box, I had to have him hold his gut back to open the time I forgot it was unusable with Ben in the truck. Ben relaxed shifting his butt back and catching his breath, feeling the cool blow of the air conditioning on his sensitive nipples through a paper thin shirt that was already damp from wiping himself.
-âLetâs go, Iâm hungryâ he cheered now that he was comfortable, slapping his gut and making the whole thing wobble again.
âYou got it bubba!â I replied back with the same enthusiasm, leaning over to plant one on my sweaty whale sized, mountain of fat husband to show I appreciated his efforts leaving the house. âYouâre so fucking cute when we go out, you know thatâ
It was a short drive to the restaurant, me trying to keep my focus on the road and not get distracted by the âoomphâ that came from the passenger seat every time I hit a dip in the road and Benâs body responded accordingly his whole body wobbling and bouncing. When we got to the restaurant, I pulled the truck up right out front across a double wide handicapped space. Out was a lot easier than in and Ben didnât even wait for me to get around to open the door, before scooting his ass to the edge and landing his round globular body out onto the sidewalk. My truck suspension moaned and returned to its upright position as my heavyweight passenger side cargo unloaded itself impatient for more food. The smell of frying grease from the kitchen out back hung in the air, making Ben take deep inhaling breaths. He began to drool slightly and without thinking ran his hand over his stomach, rubbing his belly hungrily like he was warming it up, getting it ready to accept an in human quantity of fattening food and really make a pig of himself.
Ben waddled inside pushing the wooden doors open with his gut, making one slam loudly against the door stop. I always let him enter first, the man was a sight to behold. Huge out stretched gut, the top firm and doughy, the overhanging bottom a soft blubbery roll of jello that never stopped moving and refused to stay covered by any shirt we could buy. An impressive set of tits, bigger than any womenâs implants but unmistakably pure natural lard, rolling over the top of his gut and continuing all the way round to his upper back. I liked to watch people react, it was a family place. Women always looked grossed out, sometimes sympathetic, shaking their heads often dropping their forks or pushing their own food away. Men starred, mostly impressed that a guy that big could move so swiftly. Ben barged his away across the room without noticing any stares. I told you⌠two track mind, his belly, cock or both. Once Ben started moving he didnât stop until he got where he wanted to be. The effort showed on him, breathing heavy, grunting as he moved. Seldom bothering to excuse himself, he grunted it inaudibly out between laboured breaths the time his enormous ass bumped a table and knocked a glass of water to the floor. Resembling something between a half waddling, half lumbering lardass he hauled his body across the room, making floorboard creak and any remaining patrons give up pretending not to look. His body wanted him to take breaks, but his mind was determined to get his ass in a chair and he relied on momentum to keep him going once he stared. It was a lot easier to just keep going than to get him moving again once he stopped to lean on a wall and catch his breath.
We grabbed a table in the far corner where we could make camp for a few hours undisturbed. Ben pushed two chairs together and slid his ass between them and the table. A hundred lbs of Ben ass forced the chairs back a couple of inches as he lowered his bulk down, the legs scraping and leaving marks on the wooden floor. His extended belly prevented him from getting too close to the table. At home Ben preferred to balance a plate on his belly, using his gut and a table and shortening the distance between the plate and his mouth considerably. When we were out he behaved him self a little more leaning forward to shovel big mouth fulls into his waiting mouth.
I took a seat across the table and admired my fat boy. Sitting there looking huge and sexy, catching his breath, rubbing his gut. They always gave us the same waitress, I tipped her $100 cash upfront and ordered us drinks, a half gallon of Rootbeer for Ben, iced water for me. Ben picked up the tankard and chugged it down and in a matter of seconds she was back with a second.
âAre you doing okay over there bubba?â
-âYeah, just windedâ he huffed, wiping sweat with his napkin. I wanted him to do it with his shirt again so I could admire his belly some more. âWhereâs the food?â
âComingâ I laughed, reaching over rubbing my hand down his gut and slowly towards his crotch.
The waitress returned with a plate of piled high with fried appetisers, a board of pizza slices, a tray of chicken and beef skewers each of them family sized. Along with a pint of ranch dressing. Â It was easier to order one side of the menu than to slow ourselves down ordering specifics. She put a large milkshake with whip cream on the top in front of Ben. He liked to alternate between sweet and salty so he could eat longer without his taste buds getting bored.
Ben leaned forward grabbing a slice of pizza, wrapping it round a fried cheese stick and dunking it in the ranch dressing it up, scooping it along the bowl to give it a heavy coating. He lifted the greasy, dripping morsel to his mouth, opened wide and deposited inside, following it quickly with a second. His cheeks full, he groaned deeply and sexually, enjoying his food.
Ben worked at pace through the first three platters, mixing up the food to his taste, experimenting with the salty and greasy flavours. Lubricating the dry, breaded, fried goodness with a second and a third bowl of ranch dressing so it slid down into his throat into his insatiable cavernous gut. He interspaced the appetisers with blasts of cold frosted milkshake, leaning back and letting his gut spread out, settle and taking long laboured slugs, filling his cheeks with thick cream milkshake and swallowing it on top of the mouthfuls of junk food. It usually took him about an hour of steady eating before he slowed down. He kept piling greasy fattening appetisers on top of large mouth fulls of milkshake until his gut began to resist the constant onslaught of fat and sugar he was forcefully shovelling down his throat. It was air conditioned but beads of sweat were rolling down Benâs forehead from the exertion of eating.
-âI gotta do it man⌠I have to⌠I canât stopâ he grunted out between breaths. Wiping his sweat away.
âDo what?â I smiled back.
-âGet bigger, get fatter. You have no idea how good this feels. itâs everything I ever wantedâ he lifted the furthest flabbiest roll of blubber on the edge of his out stretched belly that seemed to be trying to separate itself from the rest of his body and let it flop down on top of his thick thighs, taking a moment to settle and stop wobbling.
Ben reached forward gathering up all the spare cubes on meat and scraps of breading  that remained from a spread big enough to satisfy a half dozen people into a pile on the plate in front of him and smashing it into one lump with his first. He picked it up what remained and deposited it into mouth, rolling it round to lubricate it with drool and swallowed hard.
-âUnnnnnufff⌠I love⌠so good, so huge and fat⌠want moreâ he mumbled his eyes closed. it was more than I could take. I swapped chairs so I was by his side. The edge of his belly roll pressed up against my thigh. I lifted the edge of the outermost flab roll of his belly up and let it rest on the side of my lap so I could get closer. I reached my hand across and began to rub the top of his gut, right at the swollen, tight part where his stomach was buried. My mind wandered back to the first time we had done this, same table, a third of the food, a much skinnier, unrecognisable Ben.
-âThanks baby⌠that feels goodâ
âDonât mention it, you able to handle desert?â
âOf course, just give me a couple of minutes to restâ
Benâs physiology had adapted to his massive binging sessions, he was still the same country boy that could eat and be hungry thirty minutes later, just with a bigger stomach and a fuck ton more food. I handed him his refilled tankard of iced rootbeer, knowing it would cleanse his palate and help dinner settle in his belly. Eyes still closed, I helped him guide it to his lips and loosing the last of his politeness he chugged the icy cold soda down, letting drips spill out of the corner of his mouth and down his chins. I reached up swiftly with a napkin catching the drips.
-âUhhh thanks⌠I totally needed that⌠this stuff is heavyâ he nodded at a table covered in empty plates, three empty stacked bowls of ranch, milkshake glasses sucked dry with a cherry stem stuck too the side, I ate the cherries, Ben didnât like them. I kept rubbing the top of his gut, letting him begin digesting thousands of calories.
-âUhhhhhh⌠goodâ he moanedâ leaning back far and starting to do his favourite trick again, pushing his hips forward slightly so his under belly roll rubbed off his cock and he was able to  jerk off without touching himself. He moaned again louder, the combined feeling of a full belly sloshing round and the pressure of his bulging soft under belly rolls rubbing against his cock driving his mind to dark places. Ben leaked when he ate to full, giving him the ability to jerk himself to completion if he wanted.
âStop that, I know what youâre doingâŚyouâre being really loud. Iâll get you off later!â He ignored me.
âBaby, If you donât stop that right now, we can leave without desert.â Benâs ears pricked up, already feeling an empty space at the top of his gut forming that would perfectly fit a couple of slices of pie or an ice cream sundae. Â Rounding out another meal, he didnât want to leave.
The waitress cleared the table and deposited two thick double slices of pie and a 8 scoop ice cream sundae âto shareâ I prepaid the check tipping her again to leave us alone. I didnât know how long Ben would take to force these down. Finished with cutlery and tired of having to leaning forward to reach the table passed his gut Ben scooted his hips down forcing the top of his belly horizontal. it was harder for him to breath with it in this position but easier to eat. The back of the chair strained taking the shift in weight and the rolls at the backside of his Benâs love handles splitting down the middle and half swallowing the back of the chair. He balanced the plate on the now flat top of his gut and picked up the whole slice of pie with his chubby fingers being careful not to crush it. Rubbing it in whipped cream, he brought it to his mouth. His features wereâ almost indistinguishable as he shoved the slice in his face chewing and swallowing. His thick neck roll all the way around, bulging out at his ears, his chubby inflated cheeks, his short piggy nose he took deep breaths in and out of that made his tits wobble and threatened to knock the plate off his chest were all swollen up, each fighting for space. He worked his well trained lips and tongue around the slices of pie, getting a remarkable amount into his mouth and only a few crumbs on the shirt.
By the time both pie slices had disappeared Ben had well and truly lost the will to feed himself. Unable to shift his body or the chairs that anchored him solidly to the floor even an inch back, I pulled the table forward from where it had began to press against his belly.
âYou know I love you right bubbaâ
â100 inches⌠Iâm so proudâ
-Unf⌠yeahâŚâ he shifted his weight a tiny fraction of an inch again, before giving up moaning, knowing there was no comfortable position to take the pressure off his gut. I loved when he reached the compliant monosyllabic stage of fullness and gluttony.
I picked up a spoonful of ice cream, bringing it to his mouth. He moaned again, pushing his lips apart and accepting the ice cream. We continued, him accepting tiny spoonfulls of chocolate, strawberry, caramel, vanilla ice cream compared to usual heaped spoonfuls covered in cream and syrup he usually shovelled in. Ben ate at the slowest pace I had ever seen him. His closed his eyes and after a while just kept them closed, moaning and muttering âpleaseâ and âmore.â I lost track of time and the last third of Benâs Ice cream melted into a puddle at the bottom of the serving dish. The restaurant completely emptied out. We kept having to take 5 min breaks while I rubbed his belly until he was able to speak a little.
âFuckkkk⌠Iâm so full, please baby⌠please, I have to get fatterâ
âIs there more left, please⌠I like the chocolate, I really like it, is there any more?â
âOne⌠hundred⌠fuckingâŚ. inches, it feels so good. Thank you babyâ
I was scraping the bottom of the dish, sad that the end was coming, but there would be many more. Ben had a way still to go, he was determined to gain and loved every lb of blubber we added to his growing fat body more than the last. I was downing my second espresso, getting the energy together to start the trip home. Ben laying back in his two chairs, eyes closed, breathing in and growling like bull as he exhaled. he might have be asleep even.
I said growling at him, getting to my own feet and feeling stiff after what must have been at least three hours.
âTime to go big boyâ he nodded and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms and planting his feet for leverage. His ass made it a whole inch up from the seat of both chairs, the joints springing back into their original unburdened position before his fat ass came crashing back down, seriously threatening to collapse the things entirely. We tried again and the same thing happened, Benâs leg muscles just not strong enough to bring his food filled body to a standing position.
âI think we may have over done itâ I said. About 20 mins had passed since he had finished the ice cream and the most painful part of Benâs fullness had subsided.
-âHaha⌠yeah⌠I guess we did.â He laughed back. âWhat do we do now?â
âStay for dinnerâ, I suggested, only half joking. I was always pushing Benâs limits, both physically and mentally.
-âYeah, thatâs an option, but I want to have some us time. OkayâŚ.help me get these chairs back and lets try once more, third time lucky. Will you do me a favour when we get homeâ
âSure baby, anything.â
-âWill you get the tape out again, I want to be sureâ
