Chapter 1

He sighed, stifling a burp and rubbing his distended gut. He’d gone from washboard abs to dad bod in a little over 6 months. He looked down at himself. He sat on the couch, his bare chest and belly covered in crumbs and red sauce, and his girlfriend on her knees between his legs, cleaning him up.

“It’s getting harder to see you from down here,” she giggled, teasing him as she squeezed the bottom of his protruding beach ball belly. His normally solid gut was starting to grow a soft layer of pudge.
He blushed as she reached up and swept the crumbs off him.

“Are you ready for more?” she asked.

He gazed into her eyes. He was stuffed, but it wasn’t exactly his choice; he could never deny her what she wanted, not with her big brown Bambi eyes and cherubic rosy cheeks. She had gone to so much trouble to make his favorites tonight, if he didn’t eat till he was bursting he feared she might cry.

“More, please,” he said, his low, calm voice bringing her instant comfort. His lips twisted into a shy grin as she happily bounced up and got to making him another plate.

She loaded his plate with lasagna, maple Dijon and bacon brussels sprouts, cheesy broccoli rice, and of course 3 more of her homemade herby breadsticks. She handed him the overflowing plate and got comfortable on the couch next to him, wrapping her arm around his belly and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

She pressed play on the show they were watching and settled in as he got to work eating his third plate. He had slowed down significantly since the start of dinner about an hour ago, and was eating slowly, working his way through each dish.
His belly grew tighter and expanded farther the more he ate, putting pressure on his other guts, leaving him breathless. He motioned that the waistband of his basketball shorts was becoming uncomfortable. His girlfriend quickly pulled them down and off him, leaving him sitting in his briefs on the couch.

He groaned slightly as he took another bite, the tightness in his gut becoming unbearable. He looked down at her and knew in his heart that if he didn’t finish this plate, she’d wonder what she did wrong. He couldn’t stand to see *that look* on her face, the one where she sat and stared at him with big round eyes and the cutest little frown she could muster.

He closed his eyes as he took the final bites from his plate and moaned. His belly was taut and absolutely overfilled, and making noises that made him blush. His stomach had choice words for him.

“Awww,” she cooed, rubbing his belly gently and nuzzling his shoulder. “You liked it?”

“I loved it,” he said, winded, stifling burps and moaning. He mustered what little energy he had left to wrap his arm around her and pull her close enough to kiss the top of her head. “You’re such a good cook.”

She giggled and got up, taking his plate back into the kitchen.

“Do you want dessert? I made cheesecake!”
No, he did not. As delicious as her cooking was, he never wanted to eat again. But, like a good boyfriend, he caved.

“Sounds great, babe.”