chapter 2

Part ii
Pizza. Cheese and pepperoni. I could smell it the moment I walked through the door.
"Hello?!" Was anyone even home?
I heard someone moan from further inside the house, and walked further in, curious despite the alarm bells going off in my head. I cautiously moved into a modern kitchen, where I saw two enormous pizza boxes, one completely gone, the other one around half gone. He was leaning up against the back of a wooden chair with a high back; all I could see was the top of his sandy hair from behind the high countertop. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed in defeat, and he moaned a little as I walked over to his side. I was practically shaking.
He wasn't a huge person, around 6'. He had a pretty average build, with a little chub around his belly, strong arms, and semi muscular, average legs. But oh my god. For his size he had eaten a massive amount- he was absolutely gorged. His legs were spread and the top button of his shorts was undone along with the zipper. His gut was protruding from underneath his grease-stained button-down, which was straining to cover him. The arm closest to me was dangling, limp, at his side, and his other arm was draped over his belly.
He moaned again, this time squeezing his stomach with one hand while holding his forehead with the other.
"Say something," he groaned as he opened his eyes and tilted his head towards me, a look of excruciating pain on his face. I was astonished at the way he looked- he was so helpless and sickly looking I wondered for a moment whether or not he had the flu.
"What have you done to yourself? God if only I'd known you'd started without me..." My voice trailed off and sort of broke mid-sentence.
He glanced at me and then back at the floor. "I just wanted to impress you..." His breath caught in his throat as he hiccuped, " and I don't know how any of this works because I've never done this before," he hiccuped again, "and god it HURTS," he moaned as his head lolled back on the back of the high backed chair, his cool toned hazel eyes glazed over.
I didn't know what to say, but just as I was about to say something he held out his hand with what little strength he had left in him. For a moment I wasn't sure what he wanted. I was stunned, but I took a step towards him after a moment of hesitation, and put my hand in his. His hand dwarfed my small, thin one. He slowly drew me in, and I took another tentative step towards him when he drew my arm taut, my heart nearly stopping as with the other hand he lifted up his shirt above his stomach, and put my hand on his gorged, fattened midsection, my hand under his as he started rubbing my shaking hand over the smooth, stretching skin on his belly. I was so turned on I wasn't sure I would be able to function while I was touching him. I felt him seize, his gut heaving has he hiccuped again. He brought my hand up to his lips, first kissed the back, then my palm, then, one by one, my fingertips.
"I want you to feed me the rest of that pizza," he said, his eyes staring into mine as he put my hand back on his tummy.
"Okay..." I whispered, voice quivering. I wasn't sure this was a good idea. He already looked like he was going to go into a food coma. He released me and I walked to the counter, grabbing a slice.
"Sit on my knee," he whispered as I came back. I did- straddling his strong thigh, ripping a bite-size piece of pizza from the slice, and feeding it to him. He put one of my hands back on his ballooning midsection. I fed him probably 3 more slices, about another 3 remaining.
By this point I was unsure of how he managed to keep it all down. I could hear his stomach churning.
"I can't," he sighed as I was about to lift a 4th piece to his mouth, "I really can't, I need to take a break."
I put one hand on each side of his huge middle, and started to kiss, kiss, kiss, up and down him, feeling the vulnerable swell of him underneath my lips. His skin was hot, sweaty, sticky, beautiful. He started moaning again, this time even louder than before, in between hiccups that seemed to become more and more frequent. I straddled his lap, and I could feel him getting hard beneath me.
"You're going to finish those last three pieces, or else," I breathed in his ear.
He willingly ate the first of the three remaining pieces, but started to stall at the start of the second.
"I can't, I really can't, I'll explode," he whimpered.
"You can baby, and you will," I said in his ear, heart racing as I smelled his cologne, "just a little more to go, we're almost to the finish line."
I got up, his questioning eyes following me as I went back into the kitchen. I couldn't believe this. It was all so twisted and messed up, but god it was perfect. If anyone ever found out about this- I could only imagine. I started perusing the drawers in his kitchen. Finally I found exactly what I was looking for; a spool of thick twine. I grabbed it and the last piece of cheese and pepperoni pizza from the box, and returned to my helpless lover.
His eyes questioned me again, followed by his mouth. "What're you d-"
It was too late. I leaned over him, careful not to put weight on his sore gut, and, with care, tied his wrists together behind the chair, the hardness of the chair pushing into the softness of his back. The sweat that had started to form around his forehead, temples, and above his brow now formed a thin veneer over his entire body. I pulled the pizza apart into little pieces once again, feeding them to him slowly, slowly, slowly, so not to overload his system. I watched his full lips move as he chewed reluctantly- mind wanting to stop but heart begging for more, his tired eyes blinking slowly. Astonishingly, he managed to force down the last few pieces without the ballon of his stomach popping.
I could tell he was weak and completely exhausted, and he needed to sleep. His breathing was labored, and his body tried its best to gurgle and churn it's way through the massive amount of food that was sitting stagnant and heavy inside him. I couldn't even imagine the amount of calories he had had- but it was enough so that even in the morning and throughout the next day I knew he would feel like shit.
"Do you.... Do you think you could... you could help me up?" "I can....barely move," he said a few moments later, looking down at the floor again, embarrassed and blushing. I untied his wrists. I loved it when his cheeks turned blush red and got hot from embarrassment- it was so sexy.
"No problem," I whispered in his ear as I held one arm as he labored to get up, grunting and moaning, the chair creaking as it was relieved of his weight, wincing as he straightened up to the best of his ability and saw his stretching, bloated tummy. He put some of his weight on me, and he led me to his bedroom, where he stood slightly hunched before the end of his bed, swaying so much that it worried me. I pulled his already unbuttoned shorts down, and he stepped out of them gingerly and lethargically once they'd reached his ankles. He lowered himself onto the bed, and, kneeling down, I took off his plain black socks and converse, and then crawled onto the bed, going behind him. I could feel the heat radiating from him. All he had on were his briefs, which were now too tight, and his button-down, with an undershirt lurking beneath. He was so god damn warm- burning up and feverish. I reached around his protruding stomach near his lap and started to undo every button of his dress shirt from bottom to top.
"Ahh, that feels so much better," he mumbled when I undid the buttons that his gluttonous belly had expanded into. He lifted his arms above his head with a groan as I lifted his undershirt up and off him. I wasn't expecting him to speak, but he did as his back was facing me.
"I know this is probably upfront... but I really want to..." he hiccuped again. "Want to kiss you right now, but I can't lean over... without feeling like...like I'm going to be sick," he said tenderly and embarrassed, blushing again and turning red.
I said nothing.
I moved from the back of him to the front of him, straddling him once again, both of us immensely turned on, and put one hand on his clammy cheek. He moved one of his hands to the small of my back, and the other on top of mine, now on his lower bare belly, grazing the soft hair of his happy trail. I leaned in and felt for the first time the softness of his greasy lips press into mine gently, both of our eyes closing. I could feel his labored breathing and shaky breaths even better when I was so close to him, our lips touching. I pulled away, and smoothed a sweaty piece of hair that had fallen onto his forehead back into place. Even the smell of his sweat was intoxicating.
What the *** was I doing?! I got up, and fixed my shorts, which had ridden up because of the way I was sitting, and turned to leave.
"Wait!" he said, alarmed.
I ignored him, and silently walked to the door, placing my hand on the cold metal knob. I had to work up the tenacity to leave now or otherwise I wasn't sure I ever could.
"Please don't go. Please don't leave me here....please. Don't leave me like this." His voice was shaking, and I knew he was tearing up, although he was trying to hide it. "You're the only person I've ever done this with... And it hurts....it hurts so much... But it will hurt so much more if you go now..."
I couldn't stay. I couldn't possibly stay. I never stayed. But he was so... God. No. Leave now. Run like the wind. Don't look back. But I did look back. I looked back at those helpless eyes, and I looked at that full, vulnerable figure. I knew there was nothing I could do but stay.