Chapter 23

Brian didn’t resist too much. He let me get on with my plan and followed me to the bathroom. “Ok, let’s do this so you’ll stop harassing me... hopefully!” I was so excited, jumping like a little kid. A couple of extra pounds was all he needed to get to 200, and I was funnily looking forward to seeing that happening!! Brian was wearing only his boxers, and I was scrutinizing his body as he waited for the scales to turn on. Surely, I could still see that muscular upper body of my boyfriend, even though his shoulders and pecs were considerably softer and smoother than they used to be. Below that, his belly was telling a different story. It looked like a six-pack had never belonged there. It didn’t appear just as a layer of smooth chub over a toned body, it rather looked like a squidgy little tummy of a sedentary man, starting to protrude more than his pecs, subtly trembling with each step, even starting to nest a decent innie. The sides of his midsection were also bulging out slightly into two inviting love handles and the waistband of his boxers was sinking on his sides as much as it was underneath his belly in the front. “Oh Brian, we are really going towards that spare tyre, aren’t we?” I thought to myself as I remembered my friend Amy’s comment at the beach. As he reached down to zero the scale, I could see his belly folding into soft rolls, its texture nearly looking like cellulite. “OMG Brian, did you really use to be a personal trainer?” It was hard to believe. I kept also that thought for myself and suppressed an excited laugh as he stepped on. “Oh my gosh!” Exclaimed Brian, quickly stepping down the scales. He was smiling nervously, obviously embarrassed by the number he saw. “What? I didn’t see it honey, please step back on it!” I squeaked excitedly. We were still in full joking mode “Pleeeeease!” I insisted. He obliged with lenient resignation “Oh my... no way, honey! You’ve put on like... 7 pounds in 3 weeks?” I knew those holidays had had an impact on my man, and I was eager to see Brian hit 200 lbs. But 205... wow, all the better!

Brian was ‘slightly less thrilled’ by his achievement. For a moment he sounded genuinely disheartened “Well, I guess that’s what I get for sitting on my butt for 3 weeks, and eating as if I still had my old metabolism...” I couldn’t believe my man was more than 200 pounds and I was not ready to let him go back below that threshold too quickly! I jumped in to reassure him there was nothing wrong about relaxing a bit during the holidays. He agreed with surprising ease, and continued “I guess it was only a matter of time before I weighed over 200 pounds… I just keep putting on weight lately, and…” He looked down at his waist dispirited, and with a tone that leaked a hint of helplessness he added “I’m getting fat now!”

Those last sentences resonated in my head. The more vulnerable Brian appeared, the sexier he looked to me. The more resigned he seemed, the more motivated I was! “I guess it was only a matter of time...” he said, ‘Well then, if you have accepted this as your inevitable fate, I’ll make sure there is no going back for you!’

The more helpless he sounded, the more empowered I felt! “I’m getting fat…” he said ‘You know honey… I think you are right! I guess I’m too good a cook after all. That expanding waist of yours is just the “hard” evidence of how good your girlfriend is to you! It made me laugh to think it was more appropriate to call it ‘soft’ rather than ‘hard’ evidence in that case.

Of course, all of that was happening just in my head, but Brian must have noticed my smile and curiously asked what I was thinking. “Oh, it’s nothing honey. I was just thinking you’re very cute!”

Cute, and right. Particularly when he said he was getting fat. During his journey from 170 lbs up towards 200, his look was that of a formerly fit guy who was gradually adding a bit of extra padding. But that Christmas started to change the things. The balance had flipped. His softening and widening waistline was becoming his most prominent feature.

It looked like the last 10 pounds went all there, to thicken that ‘little’ mound on the front and flesh out his love handles at the sides. Since the early stages of Brian’s gain, it was clear his midsection was quickly losing its tone, but that simply exploded with the Christmas’s spurt! I realised that, for the first time in my life, the man I was dating looked, and in fact was, overweight. Brian had been the fittest man I had ever had, and in a couple of years he turned out to be most unfit too. That thought was crazy. Later I did the math and his BMI had gone from 23 at 170 lbs, to nearly 28 at 205 lbs. For some weird reason that thought felt exciting.
I resisted the urge to pat that wobbly looking belly and I bit my lips instead. “What would you like for breakfast, sexy boy?” I was being sincere, and I would have brought him straight back to bed, but there was no time. We both had to get ready for work. Luckily, I was good at unloading my arousal in the kitchen “And I’ll prepare you something for lunch too... what about that cheesy pasta? It’s nice and easy to make. I know you like it, and I don’t want you to have to rely on the canteen!” I was at full blast and cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner for my man didn’t bother me at all. I just loved it. I loved feeling helpful, feeling that I was taking good care of him. I also had started to love feeling in control.

I loved feeling the heaviness of the lunch box I was handling him in the morning “Here you go love... cheesy pasta and a slice of that chocolate cake you liked so much at my mum’s... and last night!” I added with a wink!
Equally, I loved to see those same lunchboxes coming back empty in the evening, so I knew my man had had a proper meal during the day, as I was finishing up in the kitchen and getting ready to serve dinner. Surely the weigh-in after Christmas strengthened my desire to pamper my man, but it wasn’t all about his weight. It was a joyful game for me to welcome him cheerfully when he was coming back home from work. I was happy to see him after a day spent apart, listen to how his day had gone and tell him about mine, and I was happy to make home as comfortable and inviting as I could. Of course, that included a nice dinner. Honestly, I think it would be unfair to blame me for that. Brian had really started to love his food. There had been times when in front of a big portion of lasagne he would have looked at the plate with some hesitancy, even reluctance when he had started putting on weight and wasn’t too happy about that. But that winter, I could nearly always spot the delight and lust in his warm smile when I was serving him a nice plate of food. As a consequence, my portions for him were always generous… How could I have done differently? I didn’t want to deprive him of that kind of pleasure! Of course, I must admit I was getting my own share of pleasure watching him enjoy his food that winter. I became pretty good at spotting the different phases of Brian’s indulgence: from the anticipation when the food was served, to the initial eating with gusto. I always knew that when he was cleaning the last bits from his plate with that same gusto it meant he was definitely going to say yes to a nice second helping. Also, I could tell when he was getting full but still going on his food, more out of gluttony than anything else. It was a series of subtle signs, and it was a sort of a game for me to spot them every night. He could slow down and take smaller bites, or adjust his waistband and look down at the remaining food on the plate, as if he was sizing it up and assess if he could manage it. Or he would just take a break and a sip of water or wine, before letting out a sigh, raise his eyebrows and pick up the fork for the final bites. When he was done, he would lean back on his chair with a contented smile, sometimes resting a hand on his tummy and say something like “Oh dear, that was amazing!”.

He had no idea how happy he was making me in those moments! Well, he probably did, because I let him know multiple times! He was just making my day by showing me his appreciation so nicely. I can tell he was leaving the dinner table nice and full nearly every night that winter, often paying compliments for the food and singing my praises. Many times I was blushing or jumping on him for a kiss and a hug. I think he liked to make me blush. “I’m not a Michelin chef, silly! Stop saying I’m so good! It’s just a pleasure to cook for you... you are always so grateful... and quite easy to please too, I have to say!” I was teasing him because I knew he didn’t like me to say he was easy to please. “I’m not that easy to please, you are just very good! Too good, I always end up eating too much!” If he wanted to make me wet my panties, that was the easiest way to achieve that! But I didn’t tell him.

Of course, it wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies, and maybe I was a bit too sensitive about his reactions. One night I prepared a nice dinner with smoking hot melted cheese served with olive oil and garlic croutons, and a veggies lasagna. A small portion for me, and a generous one for Brian. I was disappointed I couldn’t see the usual enthusiasm in his eyes, even more when I saw he was slowing down significantly just halfway through his lasagna. That was a most likely “no” to a generous second helping, and maybe he was not even liking dinner at all. “Hun… are you not enjoying your food tonight?” I asked apprehensively “Is it not good?”. “Oh no, no, no…” responded quickly Brian “This is amazing… but I am just too full! We had a farewell party at work, and as usual my colleagues baked a lot!”. I was relieved to hear there was nothing wrong with my lasagna. He had just lifted a weight off my shoulders. Also, I was happy to hear there had been a party at work. I felt a bit sorry for him “Oh honey, you could have told me, I would have given you a smaller portion! What did you have at work?” I was curious, obviously! He started saying he had cake, but after some more investigation it turned out there were 3 different cakes, and he had a slice of each. “I didn’t want to spoil my appetite, but you know how my colleagues are…” Apparently, they tend to insist. The more he talked about that party at work, the more food he mentioned “There was also pizza, mini hot dogs and small sandwiches, on top of drinks, bubbles and sodas”. I asked how the food was, just to see what he had eaten really. He said the pizzas were good, the hot dogs a bit too greasy, and the sandwiches were ok. My inner thighs started to warm up. “Oh honey, of course you were not hungry… it sounds like you had plenty to eat there! Did you bring back your lunch? I can put it back in the fridge.” I was hoping to hear he didn’t. “Oh no, I had all of it, that was before the party started!” My crotch started to feel uncomfortably hot. I knew what was his lunch, lamb stew and mashed potatoes, and I knew how much of it I had put in his lunchbox.

Soon we were sitting on the sofa and my hand immediately slipped on Brian’s soft tummy. Nothing weird about that, it was something I was doing often those days, but that night Brian looked at me sheepishly. I couldn’t resist teasing him. I patted that tummy with a smile and said “So… I wonder why your colleagues thought you needed 3 slices of cake… That’s a lot of cake! Do they think I starve you and send you to work without a proper lunch?” He just laughed and said “No, no... they know well I always have a gourmet lunch with me!” I felt flattered but I didn’t have time to answer because he continued “Probably just because I’m fat! I have noticed that once you get fat, people give you more cake!” That caught me completely off guard. I was not expecting Brian to flat out say he was fat. I could only dumbly repeat his words “What? You? Fat?” I must have looked so dumb. Brian grabbed his courage by the hands, he also grabbed his roll with both hands, and gave it a good squeeze “Well, honey… I thought you had noticed!” I was still stumbling and failing to find the words “No… I… No, you are not…” He rolled his eyes and gave me a sympathetic look, as to say I was sweet but also dumb if I had failed to notice. He then lifted his shirt and left his pale, flabby belly in full display. Since he was sitting on the sofa, his belly was folded into 2 soft rolls. The bottom one was by far thicker and wider. It really looked like a spare tyre was lazily spilling over his trouser and bulging all around his waist. If my friend Amy thought Brian had a spare tyre the previous summer, she would have been bewildered by its sight that night. A second, smaller, upper roll was nested between this bigger one and his soft chest. At that point he gave an energetic pat to his belly that sent ridiculously perfect waves in motion towards all directions through the fat on that belly, as if it wasn’t already clear that thing was soft and flabby. I swear I felt those waves reaching my crotch and I was so close to squeal with pleasure! “Yep, I’m pretty sure this belly qualifies me as fat! Look at how smooth and soft it is… it’s so bouncy and… I have rolls!” He emphasized the ‘rolls’ part with his tone and grabbing that spare tyre that was so obviously becoming the distinguishing characteristic of Brian’s gain. He didn’t sound annoyed or horrified. He was just amazed by the shape and softness of his own belly. I had never seen him so open about his gain. I couldn’t say anything, I was just thinking he looked so cute. Brian continued “I’m very lucky you don’t mind me getting fatter…” I finally managed to say something. “Oh honey, of course I don’t…” Brian smiled and continued “You sure you don’t miss my abs? I could try and get them back for you…” My turn to smile and be silly “No way honey! Not under my watch! Your abs were ok… but this…” My hands had joined Brian’s on his chubby roll by then, and I was also squeezing and stroking it “This is all another level of sexiness!” I started playfully, but I was quickly getting turned on... A lot! Soon I moved myself on the floor, kneeling down between his legs, while still playing with that doughy roll. I was surprised how quickly I turned that silly chat into a sexual action, but all that “fat talking” had an effect on me, and Brian didn’t seem to mind what I was doing… at all! He helped me to get to his trousers’ button by sucking the belly in. Well, he tried to, but his tummy didn’t move much. I could feel the weight of that soft, warm, luscious roll on my hands as I undid the button. He lifted his bum to let me take off his trousers. He didn’t look particularly athletic in his moves, and instead of abs tensing up all I could see was that roll bulging more. I took off his trousers and boxers in a single move. I was very pleased to see that between his legs my boy was already very hard, in sharp contrast with all the softness around his waist. My eyes moved back up towards Brian with a mischievous look, as if he was the naughty one for being so excited. My hands went straight back to that soft tummy, playing, kneading, moulding and folding that juicy roll over and over again, as my face was getting closer and closer to Brian’s manhood. Well, since my hands were busy there was only one thing to do!

You don’t need to know the details, but I can assure you that Brian was very, very happy with what he got, as he exploded in no time. I went back to snuggle next to him and jokingly scolded him “Hey, I was not even hungry... you’ll make me fat pouring all that stuff in my mouth!” We both laughed but he did apologise “Sorry hon, it just came out of the blue… I couldn’t control myself…” I was happy to hear that. I was still snuggled up around him; I gave him a little pat on that belly and reassured him I was just kidding “Don’t worry, I loved it… I’m happy to see I can still make you lose control…” His time to laugh “Of course you can honey, it’s very hard not to lose control around you… you seem to be always able to press the right buttons!” He knew how to flatter me. A grumble came from his tummy just then. “Honey… did I make you hungry?” I gave him another playful pat on his cute roll and watched the ripples spread from it. He was a bit taken aback from his belly growls and me getting up “I wouldn’t say hungry, but…” Too late, I was not going to miss my chance “Well, ‘my mum’s’ chocolate cake is just out of the oven... maybe one little slice?” I saw he was already giving in to the idea, even before he nodded. By the time I came back with his cake he had put on his boxers again. Soon I was in my little Eden, snuggled up next to my boyfriend, as he was enjoying my last treat. Something made me smile “Is this your version of cigarette after sex?” I asked him jokingly. He smiled too “I’ve never tried a cigarette after sex, but I’m sure this is much better! I’d have this all the times!” I knew what he meant, and I knew he really didn’t like cigarettes, but I couldn’t resist joking back:

“Hey honey, be careful what you wish for!”