chapter 16

Justin actually preferred working in the office. It was 9-5, no evenings, no weekends. He sat down at a desk all day, sorting through bits of paper. He typed a bit, answered the phone. It was easy.
The job itself was not stressful, but he still felt stressed.
The living room spotlight kept switching itself on and off for one thing. He'd checked the wiring. The insulation had come loose, so he'd gone out and bought a new light.
If he switched the light on and then went into the kitchen, the light would go off. If he switched the light off and went into the kitchen, it would go on again. It didn't make any sense... at least any scientific sense.
He considered some spirit was trying to tell him something, trying to get through to him, but what kind of message could they be sending? The light did not flicker on in off in a morse code pattern. Not that he could read morse code either.
He tried to ignore it.
He tried to ignore the feeling that even though he knew he was sitting there alone, he knew some male figure was sitting with him. Who was he? He couldn't see his face. Strangely he wasn't scared of him either, he just didn't know who he was.
He comforted himself with food, then took himself off to bed early, trying to keep warm, while trying to stay calm.

Justin saw the doctor and told him a whole pack of lies. He couldn't sleep... no he found it difficult to sleep because the flat had no central heating. He had to wear a fleece lined track suit to go to bed, flanelette sheets, several blankets and a sleeping bag and he was often still very cold.
He said he found it hard to concentrate because he was so tired all the time.
He said he he only drank socially. That was partially true. He drank to get drunk when he was out socially... at least once a week, maybe twice. He claimed not to drink at home alone. That was another lie. What about the Irish coffees he had? What about the occasional glass of wine, which turned into half a bottle?
He claimed he did not each much, just normal amounts. He could not cook, so he did go to the takeaway and have TV dinners, but he did not go over the top. He claimed not to have a clue why he had gained so much weight recently. Maybe it was because he didn't go cycling as much as he once had?

Justin had no idea how much the doctor believed him or didn't believe him. He didn't care as long as he did not probe too much into what he considered to be his private life. He did not want to discuss his lack of friends at the minute. It was too upsetting. He did not want to be alone. He had not asked to be alone.
In the end, the doctor could not come up with any answers and referred him back to his own GP.
He had no intention of following up. He knew why he was fat. He knew why he was gaining weight. He was eating too much of the wrong things and not exercising. And he had no intention of changing! He liked the way he was. He liked being fat! He wanted to get even fatter! It was not his problem if other people did not like it.

He considered he had escaped medical scrutiny lightly, with only a couple of leaflets on healthy eating and taking regular exersise. Both leaflets went unread straight into the bin.
That evening, he consoled himself with half a dozen cream cakes and a large Chinese takeaway.
Mmmm! He thought as he rubbed his swollen belly and reached for another glass of wine. He was not giving up this simple pleasure for anyone!
He made the effort of getting up and waddling into the bedroom. Despite the cold, he stripped off and looked at himself in the mirror.
He had chubby round cheeks where once they had been sunken in. He had a large double chin. His arms were thickened, even his fingers were fat. He had saggy fat boobs. He took a hold of them, wobbled each one in turn and both together. He could probably get away with wearing a bra! His fingers circled his areolae and pulled on his nipple. He felt his cock rising underneath his great apron of fat, but he could not see it.
He turned to the side and grabbed the fat of his love handles that merged with his back fat. He had two distinct rolls going on there. His bum was round and dimpled, merging into his tree trunk legs.
But the biggest past of him was always his belly. He admired how swollen it was, he was developing an overhang with the sheer weight of it. His hands explored the sensitive overstretched skin. He could not reach below it when he was this full.
He imagined what the doctor would think if he saw what he looked like now! He imagined his disapproving face and it only turned him on more!

He realised he was shivering with the cold. He snuggled under the blankets of his bed, still naked, to get warm. He rolled up into a foetal position as his hands continued to explore.