chapter 3 an accident

The remaining freshman gathered on the second floor's elevator lobby. There were a couple of jock-like guys, some friendly-looking uglies, the usual variety. Our Resident Assistant was a tall, lanky, though clearly athletic, senior who explained to us what to expect from living in the dorm, certain events that were to take place before classes, et cetera.

I could feel the sheer mass of Bruno standing beside me, slightly behind. I concaved my spine a bit to really accentuate my ass, but as it turned out, Bruno was focused on something else.

"All right, guys. As a sign of things to come, here's what you'll find at almost every event: pizza. Hopefully it'll hold you over for the night."

As our RA concluded, Bruno managed his way through the lobby with surprising agility so that he was one of the first to open the stack of pizza boxes our RA had just behind his open door.

"I got you a slice, Adrien," said Bruno when he lumbered back. I smiled at the fact that he had also reserved a remaining four slices for him. I figured I'd make his day better.

"Nah, thanks though. I had dinner just before I met you with my parents. You take it."

"Sounds good. I am pretty hungry," he said, as if the 36 cookies whose calories were now fattening him up never existed. He proceeded to demolish his remaining five slices with an almost polite velocity. He had even saved a napkin to wipe his fingers of the excess grease when he had finished. With an abrupt, magnificent swell of his chest and barrel-like upper belly, Bruno silently belched. I drew in a breath myself at the resurgence of his massive pillow-like chest and the impression of his large round nipples. He looked at me guiltily and said, "Excuse me. Gotta keep the tank filled, ya know?"

I nodded in wonder.

So we were off with the remainder of our floor to various meetings. Bruno attracted the friendships of the other jocks, answering their questions about his past football experience in high school. The thinner music-major types gravitated towards me, only to soon find out we had little in common and eventually retreat. But despite all that, Bruno made sure to sit next to me in the huge auditorium. And to generally linger next to me as we made our way through the Welcome Week booths strewn about campus.

"What do you think?" I asked, jerking my head toward a desk with the sign "Intramural Football League," behind which sat a pair of guys who were huge and bored.

Bruno swallowed the second of the four tarts he managed to get after signing up for a club that involved nothing more than getting together to eat desserts.

"Eh, I'm not sure. Football was great and all in high school, but I feel like I'm done with it."

This is it. I reached up and gave his left arm a quick squeeze while attempting to casually ask, "How're you gonna maintain those arms as big as they are, big guy?"

God, my hand was so tiny in comparison, his arms so beefy and puffy with muscle and malleable chub that for a split second, I thought they were fake. Bruno stopped mid-bite and studied my hand touching his upper arm. I retracted it.

I gulped and felt my pupils dilate at the fear that I had crossed a line.

In his first demonstration of sloppiness, Bruno shoved the remaining two tarts in his mouth and swallowed. He smiled at me slyly.

"Don't you worry, Adrien. I have a feeling they're gonna get a bit bigger." He curled the arm I didn't touch and, like before, it expanded immensely. Bruno smile at it proudly.

Before I could moan, he added, "I'm a huge gym goer. In fact, I could show you around the weights a bit if you want. The gym here looks awesome."

His golden eyes brushed my gaze shyly. He afraid, I thought with a mixture of astonishment and hilarity, that I might possibly turn him down.

I had to reward him for that.

"I'd like that! I mean, I kinda like being small and stuff up here--" I gestured at my sinewy and tight torso. "But I gotta maintain my lower body. It's all about the squats."

Daring, I planted my feet, arched my spine to achieve Spartan-form, and squeezed my bubble ass as I dipped and imitated a squat. But I felt something give way and heard a tiny rip. Blood flooded my cheeks above as I felt the night's cool breeze touch my now exposed right cheek below: a thumb-sized tear exposed the yellow-brown stretch of ***-flesh that bulged from the three threads still intact.

I sprang up instantly, glancing quickly at Bruno, utterly embarrassed, and only slightly turned on by the fact that he was fixed on my ass, his thick lower lip pressed agonizingly between his teeth. He released a deep, chesty sigh at the sight and angled his pelvis backwards.

I knew was he was doing. He was getting hard and trying to give his dick more room to grow without being noticeable. But I had no time to love the moment. My ass was exposed. No underwear fabric to hide my fat embarrassment.

You know what I did? I turned away from him but moved backward, relying on his polite kindness to understand that I needed him to hide my ass. In my haste, the upper cheeks collided with his groin, sending my fat globes into a rapid jiggle. And in that instant, amidst my "sorry!"s, I felt a veritable log press against my left cheek. I froze. It was too big to be real. "Oh my God," I heard Bruno mutter. My ass clenched again in arousal and I felt his log twitch. The combination of the movements shifted it so that it pressed decisively against my crack, shifting my globes to the left and right. I felt a bit more fabric pull apart.

"It's all right, it's all right," said Bruno softly. "I gotchu. Sorry about...uh..."

There was no other way to indicate it. He pushed his big dick against my ass so I could feel without doubt the immensity of his own embarrassment, every fat ex-football inch.

"That," he said. "I'm kind of an ass man."

"Apparently, I am too," I said. I was bursting with too many conflicting emotions. "I do wear underwear, by the way. But because of the...uh...size...I have to wear jockstraps."

"It's all good," he assured me. "I have to avoid any shirt with sleeves."

"What're you going to do in the cold?"

"I mean, my shirts are tailored to fit, but like I said," he smiled and I could feel his head angled down to me, "I think they're gonna get bigger. Here, let's pretend to walk around and head back up to our room. Don't worry, I'll stand behind you."

I breathed heavily, not with worry or arousal, but with fright at how tender he was being towards me. I needed to pay him back. I needed to.

And judging by the perpetual hardness of his dick from the booths to our room, and his apologetic bumps into my globes, harder and harder the closer we got to our dorm, I fell asleep that night suspecting that the walk was a good first step toward payback.