chapter 2

"Greyson?" I called.

"Oliver, hey!" He glanced over my cart, surveying all of my findings. "That's a lot of noodles and cheese," he said finally.

"I'm making dinner for my boyfriend." We walked into the dairy aisle. I had forgotten to grab milk. I had already grabbed two pre-cut whole chickens.

"Is he going to eat all of that?" Greyson asked jokingly. "He must be as big as a house!" I was liking Greyson less and less.

"I don't feel that's any of your business," I said seriously. He was kind of obnoxious. I grabbed a gallon of milk and stormed over to the checkout. What a tactless jerk.

"Oliver, wait! I'm sorry if I--I don't know, like, offended you or something. It's just that--come on, if you have to make all that food, he must be at least the size of a small elephant." That was some apology. Was he raised by wolves? Was that just an act he put on in class? Was he really this rude?

"I happen to like my boyfriend the way he is," I said, knowing damn well I should have just kept my mouth shut. "I like what he looks like, which happens to be better than you, so maybe you should work on yourself, before you come for my guy." I placed the last item on the conveyor belt leading to the cashier. I was so angry. I had thought I was blessed with the world's greatest kitchen partner. I was way off the mark on that one.

"Well, I don't think that could happen. Especially since I'm so attractive." He flexed a basically non-existent bicep. I laughed.

"Yeah right," I said condescendingly. "You don't even come close." I paid the checkout lady and went outside. I unlocked my bike and placed my groceries in the basket. He came out after me.

"I thought you were cute, but I can see you like fat boys." That made me so angry and I wasn't sure why. I did, in fact, like fat boys. There was nothing wrong with that. "Oh well, what a waste."

"You are the most ignorant person I have ever met and trust me, I know some really ignorant people." I kicked up the kick stand after mounting my bike.

"See you Monday, you chubby chaser. I think we both know why you're interested in the culinary arts. Making the world fatter, one guy at a time." I rode off pissed. I was so embarrassed and I could feel that my face was extremely hot. What was his deal? What did it matter who I dated?

He was gay too, but was picking on me for having a fat boyfriend? What a callous guy, honestly. This was not high school. I didn't want to deal with Bret all over again. At least he didn't seem like the type who'd physically come after me. I laughed at the thought. He was shorter than I was and seemed like he weighed less too.

When I got home it was only around three. I turned on a movie channel and sat thinking about Greyson, and that lead me to think about Mason so I felt better. They were showing a marathon of a movie trilogy about mutant superheroes. I had seen all those movies like a hundred times, but I was still engrossed.

I sat there until seven exactly, just as the third film was about to start. I turned up the volume so I could listen from the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen and started grating cheese and cooking noodles. I used a bunch of cheeses and baked it at 350 degrees. I heated the vegetable oil to fry the chicken after covering it with flour and spices.

I never imagined being a chef. It made me laugh now whenever I thought about it. When I was in sixth grade I wanted nothing more than to go to culinary school, and honestly, it was because Mason liked when I made him food so much. The oven timer went off as Mason walked in. Perfect timing.

"It smells delicious in here," he said. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. "I think I might starve to death, so can I eat now?"

"Yes," I said as I laughed. "I don't know what I'd do with myself if I let you waste away." I had always found Mason to be really funny. He sat at the table and asked for the entire two pound pan and a spoon. I set it in front of him, scooping some out for myself on a plate. I also placed the chicken in front of him, which was in a colander filled with paper towels to let the oil drain. I grabbed a drumstick for myself. "It's hot," I said as I got him a glass of milk.

"Hot," he exclaimed, mouth full of macaroni. "Hot!"

"That's what I said." I laughed as he continued to shovel more food into his mouth, although it was still really hot.

"But--," he said as he swallowed. "It tastes incredible."

"Thank you," I said, bringing a forkful of mac and cheese to my own lips. I felt my face go hot, which it always did when he gave me a compliment. He continued to shove huge spoonful after spoonful into his wide mouth. He'd eat a piece of chicken now and again, and make a face of enjoyment. He drank down all the milk and asked for more to drink as he shoved in even more mac and cheese. He drank that milk too and ate the last spoonful. It had been forty-five minutes.

"That was so good, Oli." He stood up and stretched, causing his polo to rest above his belly button. He unbuttoned his pants and let his belly surge forward

"What did you eat at the restaurant?" I asked, curious to as how he could come home and demolish all that I had made as well.

"Ribs, two baked potatoes, and a quart of Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion."

"And you just ate two pounds of mac and cheese and over twelve pieces of fried chicken?" The erection I had already been sporting surged with more blood.

"Yeah," he said, hand on his stomach. "You're regretting how big I'm getting, huh?" he asked, smiling, already sure of my answer.

"Of course not," I replied seriously. I walked over to him and pulled up his shirt even further. I needed him. He could tell, so he removed his pants and underwear. I saw his wide butt and got even harder. I wanted to bend him over right there and *** him hard.

I got out of my pants and freed my throbbing member. His ass was already wet enough for me to slide in easily. He felt me enter his glorious behind and gasped. He propped himself up on his forearms on the kitchen table. His gut hung down, round and bloated from the meal. After an entire year and multiple rounds of intercourse I still felt that pleasurable tingle that made me feel like I was losing myself. I thrust my hips a bit harder and heard him cum. I sped up, my hands exploring his wide back, and did the same. It really did get better each time.

We went into the bedroom and sat on the bed. "Can I tell you something?" I asked. He was tossing our laundry into the hamper.

"Of course, unless you're leaving me," he said. "I'd rather you just left while I was at work." I chuckled.

"You're way off." I'd never break up with my colossal man-bear.

"Oh, thank God," he said, acting theatrically relived. He sat on the bed next to me.

"My new partner at school is like a gay Bret."

"He ***ing hit you?" Mason asked angrily. He looked at me closely and his eyebrows furrowed intensely. He looked ready to hunt Greyson down and demolish him.

"No, no! I think he might be worse a fighter than me," I said, preparing to better explain the situation. "He--um, he saw me at the store and found out you were larger than the average man and started harassing me. I don't care, but I just wanted to tell someone. That's weird though, right?" I laughed nervously, knowing that Mason was still getting worked up.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"I'm a weird chubby chaser. He compared you to a house, an elephant. It was all very juvenile." His arms tensed.

"If you point him out, I could--," he began.

"No! Gosh no! What are you--some kind of hit man? It's fine. I can deal with it."

"Are you sure?" He looked concerned.

"Yeah," I said. "I appreciate you being so ready to leap into action though, really."

"Okay, if you're sure. I won't have to bring out the big guns." He flexed his 23 inch arms and I laughed.

"I'm going to have to ask you to put those away." I looked at how huge his muscular arms were. He still found time to get into the gym to lift. I smiled. "On second thought, leave them out." We had sex--again.