Patrick & dylan

Chapter 8

My birthday would be coming in two weeks. It always came the week of Spring Break. It had been about five months since what happened at my place between Paris and Dylan. Paris didn't talk to me anymore.

"Hey, Patrick,” Dylan called. “Do you want to come over for Easter dinner?"

"I don't know." My mother would say yes. She couldn't say no to Dylan.

"Please, I don't want to be alone with my parents,” he said. "We also can celebrate something else..."

"What?" I asked.

"Your birthday." I blushed. When your family remembers your birthday it's nice, but when someone else remembers you feel really special.

"Okay." I smiled.

My birthday was before Easter and we went to go to a club for those eighteen and older. I was finally eighteen! I couldn't drink of course, but what was the worst was the fact that the bouncer thought I was trying to sneak in. He said I wasn't any older than thirteen. I was so embarrassed, but I showed him my I.D and he let me in.

We danced and it was pretty fun to see Dylan on the dance floor. I was ready to go pretty quickly because I wanted a more intimate birthday gift. "Happy Birthday," he said to me.

"Thanks..." I panted as our lips parted for a moment to allow conversation.

"Did you...have fun?" he asked.

"Of course I did." I pulled my shirt over my head. He did the same. His huge, round gut had caused quite the stir. Everyone noticed that he was now 292 pounds. He had to buy an entire new wardrobe. He pulled down his pants and his boxer briefs stuck to his juicy, bubble butt.

I freed my engorged penis from my underwear and went up behind him. He leaned over on his desk and I entered his behind. I pushed a little harder to begin with than I usually did and felt waves of pleasure wash over me. He gasped and I pushed harder. He finished and I pushed a bit faster. I finished too. What a birthday present.

"I have something else for you," he said.

"Okay." He spoiled me too much. He got out of his bed and went over to his closet. He was still naked and watching him walk around got me really excited.

"Happy Birthday,” he said again. I laughed. He walked over to me and handed me a sketchbook. I opened it and on the first page was a sketch of me and Kyle. Kyle looked just like Kyle and I'm pretty sure I looked the way I did in the picture.

The next page was a comic of Dylan punching Paris in the nose. I laughed. There were trees, birds, cattle, and the school. They were all amazing. "These are awesome." I looked at him. He was blushing. "I love it." He sighed and smiled.

Easter came and I got dressed. My mom actually went out and bought me a new sweater and slacks. I never dressed up for Easter before and I knew it was just to make us look good in front of Mr. Rushworth. She dropped me off and Dylan answered the door. He wore a gray button down shirt and navy blue slacks. They seemed a bit small and he led me to the dining room.

It would only be the four of us at dinner. I was so nervous. I had never even met Dylan's father. He sat at the head of the table, which was covered with food. I shook his and Mrs. Rushworth's hands. They said how nice it was for me to join them.

That was when I began to get questioned. Mr. Rushworth asked me about my family, my grades, where my father was, who I've had a relationship with, and even my career goals. He was shocked when I told him I wanted to be a doctor. He glared at Dylan and I felt bad.

"Let's eat," Mr. Rushworth said. We did. It was like an eating contest between Dylan and his father. Mrs. Rushworth even ate more than I did. They ate and ate and ate until Dylan's dad set down his fork. He loosened his belt. Dylan undid his pants button, which I'm sure wouldn't have lasted much longer.

"Patrick, my son couldn't have chosen a better boyfriend." I blushed.

"Thank you, uh, sir" I said.

"If you will excuse me I need to go and lay down for a bit." He stood up and I noticed how large of a belly he had, nowhere as big as Dylan's, but still pretty big. I went home that evening happy with my life as a whole for the first time in forever.

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"Paging Dr. Russell. Paging Dr. Russell." I heard my name and made my way to the front desk. I had just gotten out of surgery and I was pretty tired. I passed the children's wing and saw the mural Dylan had painted. It had the most beautiful sunflowers I had ever seen.

"Yes?"

"You have a visitor." I turned and saw Dylan holding two cups of coffee. I knew I loved him for something. He handed me a cup.

"Thank you." I drank. Dylan knew just how I liked my coffee. He was about 425 pounds. He put on a lot of weight in ten years. His round face was framed by his long, curly, black hair. He was wearing a pair of jeans that showed off his ass perfectly. His big round gut hung down over the front of them. His strong thighs and arms were still there.

"No problem."

"Patrick! We need you!"

"Kyle, it's Dr. Russell."

"Dr. Russell, let's fucking get a move on."

"Interns." I sighed. "Bye Dylan. See you at home." I handed him the cup after gulping the rest down and followed Kyle.

"I can't believe he's an artist, you'd think he was a pro-wrestler or something."

"Yeah, but he does sell a lot of his work." I washed my hands. "But that's what makes him so good. You don't expect his art to be that beautiful." He had graduated from art school with so many offers for work. He designed a whole new look for a soda company.

I thought how it was just like him, so big and intimidating, but beautiful and wonderful and soft. Okay, maybe that last one was just him.

The End!