Chapter 2: His Superbowl

Man, it's been so long since I've seen the guys. The pandemic changed our Sunday football parties to watching the games alone, texting each other comments on the play by play in the group thread. I'm so stoked Connor invited us all over for the SuperBowl, Things are finally getting back to normal.

And Becky is making her seven layer dip... fuck yeah.

...

I'm standing in front of the mirror and it's occurring to me that I haven't worn my jersey in... has it been three months? I think it's almost been the whole season. It was getting tight and since I've just been watching alone in the den, there wasn't any point to dressing up. Let's see if I can still get this thing on...

Nope. Definitely not. Fuck. Ugh I'm such a ***. Damn, this doesn't even cover my belly button. Shit look at all those stretch marks. I gotta find something else to wear.

...

I hope the guys don't say anything. I know Connor's going to crack a few jokes, but he'd find something to make fun of even if I had used the pandemic to get ripped. I honestly can't believe Becky hasn't been complaining about it. She offers to take me along to the gym or pilates sometimes, but doesn't even seem annoyed when I tell her maybe next time.

...

Jesus the only things that really fit anymore are gym shorts and sweats. I really need to get on a diet. The shorts are at least team-themed so hopefully people will think that I actually meant to wear these, not that I'm too fat to button any of my actual pants. This hoodie is a bit tight, but it seems like it conceals ... everything... a bit. The T-shirt underneath is new, but getting a little short so I have to remember to make sure I pull the gym shorts up over the bottom of this gut if I want to take the hoodie off.

Ok item one on the To Do list... buy some new clothes. Item two... get back on a freaking diet. You're getting to be a goddamn tub of lard.

...

OK... the diet is definitely going to have to start tomorrow. Between Becky's dip, Sarah's wings, pizza, and cupcakes, the ladies really went all out. There's no holding back on a day like this, especially after I've downed a few beers.

There were a few jokes when we first arrived, but Sam got there first and he's put on a few, too... not half as much as I have, but still. Connor has been joking with Sarah, saying she should have made twice as many wings for his offensive line (he means me and Sam). It's easy to laugh it off when I'm not the only one who's let himself go a little. Becky doesn't seem embarrassed at all, which is a relief.

...

Damn all this food is so good. Sam and me aren't holding back. I haven't even moved since the game started and the ladies have been great about making sure all the plates are kept full and the cold beers never run out. I'm getting a little tipsy actually.

...

Sam and I have to chug a beer every time the Steelers score and eat a cupcake as fast as we can every time the Saints score. Connor's keeping track who who's fastest each time. It's getting pretty difficult actually and I'm definitely losing. The Saints are up by a lot.

...

The game is almost over and I'm fucking stuffed. I can tell Becky is a little worried. You know that feeling when you've eaten way too much and you have those little burps every few seconds and everything's kind of sloshing around in your stomach? I'm at that point. I'm just praying nobody else scores.

Connor asks me to pass him the bowl of chips from my end of the coffee table, but I don't even think I can lean forward without hurling. Luckily, Becky saves the day and gets up to do it. Yeah she definitely knows how full I am. Poor Becky, always having to take care of me. I try to say, "Yes, your majesty," but instead of the word your, a huge belch came out. It was like, "Yes yOOOAAHHHHGHHGHGH majesty."

Everybody laughed hysterically, but I think I blushed a little. I tried to chuckle, but laughing would have honestly been a little painful in my current state. Becky came and snuggled next to me. She knows I'm about to burst.

...

Thank God there were no more touchdowns. Sam looks pretty stuffed, too, but I'm like... next level. I didn't offer to help clean anything up because I'm literally worried I won't be able to make it to the car without getting sick. I just whispered to Becky, "I think I need to go home" and she made up an excuse about needing to make it home in time for something, I don't even know what she said.

She helped me up off the couch and when I stood up, my gut must have been hanging out because she pulled up my shorts pretty high for me. I reached my fist out to give Sam a fist bump and Connor had to stand up to reach my fist. They seemed to know somehow that there was no way I was bending over the coffee table to reach them.

I tried my best not to waddle, but lifting my knees up pushed on my stomach too much for comfort. I hope Becky's not pissed about this. This has to be embarrassing for her. Why am I such a pig?

...

She reclined the passenger seat for me and offered to drive. I'm way too drunk to drive obviously, but I still appreciate her not giving me shit for it. I got myself into the car and just pulled up my hoodie and pulled down my shorts a bit to just let my gut expand as much as it can. Man I feel awful.

She drives home really carefully. I can tell she's avoiding pot holes and stuff. She gives me little pats in the right places that kinda distract me from how nauseous I feel and coax out some good burps. I would be embarrassed, but I'm too drunk and sick I think. Eventually I must have fallen asleep.

...

She helps me upstairs and even takes my hoodie off of me before I flop onto the bed. Laying on my side helps. She looks so good in her tight V neck shirt and her helping me like this makes me sort of horny, but I'm too physically uncomfortable to do more than stare at her tits and tell her how hot she looks. I can't believe she's not even mad at how much of a pig I was today.

She takes off her clothes and climbs into bed with me. Her tits look amazing in her simple black bra and she puts them right in my face, stroking my hair with one hand and rubbing my gut with the other. I kiss her cleavage and rub one of her nipples with my free hand. I think I'm moaning and I'm definitely getting pretty hard, but I'm not sure she knows that I can't have sex right now. I'm too stuffed.

I work up the nerve to say it. "Babe, I'm sorry but..." and she interrupts me, "I know."

She lets me stay on my side and kisses me all down my front, making sure to massage my big gut while she goes. It all just feels good now, the nausea is gone and everything is focused on what she's about to do. When she puts me in her mouth, a big sigh of relief escapes me and I can't believe how lucky I am.