#bbhm

I watched him eat. He was pretty fast, even when he was trying to be slow. He had about three sandwiches and was already on his second. His belly pushed up against the table and I wondered how long it would be until he couldnt sit with me anymore. The seats weren't adjustable. He'd have to bring his own. Embarrassing.

His arms shook when he brought the food up to his face, huge cheeks looking like they could overtake his face if he stuffed them any further, they already seemed to obscure his vision.

People stared as he walked around afterwards. Belly hanging out and slapping his thighs. He didnt even seem to notice. He was coming over to my place after work, and I wondered how we'd get up the stairs to my apartment. There weren't many, but I could hear his heavy breathing now.

His legs wobbled and he was practically waddling down the hall, I had to take small steps so he could keep up. His second chin swayed and so did his arms. Sticking out just slightly from his sides, almost so he could keep his balance on flat terrain.

I thought of how much bigger he could get. He already couldnt see his scale, he told me that last week as he stuffed a burger into his fat mouth.

Maybe he'd reach 500 by next month. Stumbling into work with a donut in his hand as usual. He'd finally have to take the bus. His car was already small. I couldnt imagine him driving with that mass in front on him.

Maybe he'd get to 600. His fingers spread apart from the fat invading them. His rolls finally covering his knees. He'd need special pants, and he wouldnt be able to reach his cock, constantly hidden underneath a swollen fat pad.

Maybe 700. We already had coworkers with smaller tits than him, I couldnt imagine them then. They'd be colossal. Falling down onto his stomach. Oh god, his stomach. He'd need a scooter, and a special spot at our conference table. He'd be a blimp.