Chapter 1 - growing up

I was always a skinny kid. I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain a pound. It was easy for me to eat fast food and junk food, and guzzle soda without any effects on my body.
I was a genetic outlier in my family. between my Dad, Grandpa, and many uncles, I was basically surrounded by beer guts. They weren't always that way, but they were never as scrawny as I was. My Dad was pretty thin until he became a dad, and from when I was very young his belly grew every year, until it looked like he was always smuggling a large round beach ball under his T-shirts. It's weird to see pictures of him holding me as a baby, with just a very small doughy mound under his shirt.
My mom wasn't very big, but definitely could be considered chubby, as can most women who have given birth four times. Her sisters both are pretty fat, and I always wondered how my mom stayed so much smaller than them, since they all ate pretty bad.
My two sisters definitely take after our aunts, as Maddy, the younger of the two, was a little fat girl since she was a toddler, and Rebecca only made it to about third grade before she ballooned up to a fat little butterball almost overnight.
I have a few plump cousins, all different levels of fat, but all of them porkers.
That left only me and my older brother Jake to be the two thin kids of the family. I was very skinny, but my brother was even more of a stick.

Not much changed as I got older. I made it through elementary and middle school, the short skinny kid who sometimes got teased for being small. In ninth and tenth grade I grew something like 11 inches, which only made me look skinnier.

Sometime around then I read a comic where the characters grew very fat because of a plump roommate that moved in and changed their habits, turning them into fat people. For some reason this fascinated me, and I started searching out other comics that had characters gaining weight. This led me to discover the online community of people who were feeders and gainers. I became obsessed with the idea of weight gain, and wished I was fat myself. While all my friends were discovering porn, I searched for the more rare magazines with chubby girls and BBWs. I looked up pictures of beer bellies, and wished they were mine. I felt weird about it, but I knew that to be fat was what I wanted.
I would stuff myself with food, or drink 2-liters of Soda to see how much my stomach could bulge out. I would stuff blankets in my shirt to see how it would look to have a big proud belly sticking out in front of me.
None of the stuffing's ever stuck, and I never gained a pound. My metabolism was just too high.

When I had turned 18, I stopped thinking about gaining, and spent time working out and trying to get a good physique. I stopped searching the gaining blogs and pictures, yet never stopped being more attracted to chubby girls. For the most part, based on failed attempts, and worry of what everyone would say, I put the idea of gaining completely out of my mind.
Sometimes the thoughts would creep back, whenever I'd noticed a friend putting on weight, which happened pretty often throughout college. My best friend Brett had a habit of getting into long relationships, and he and his girlfriends gaining 30 pounds each throughout.
At this point in my life I was always thinking about exercising and eating right, which kept me pretty thin.
It was a big shock when my Brother gained a bunch of weight in his late twenties. Over the course of a year, he added a probably 30-40 pounds onto his thin frame, growing a smaller version of my dad's gut. Our family teased him a lot, seemingly happy to have gained one more to the fat team. I never said much to Jake about it, though he was always saying things to me like "it's coming for you", implying that he was a vision of what was in store for my waist line, but for some reason I always thought that wasn't possible.

When Brett got married, he and his wife both gained a bunch of weight, and I spent a lot of time being the lone skinny guy, surrounded by fat people all around me. Even my mom had put on weight, but still wasn't as fat as my two Heavyweight sisters.

At this point I was working a lot, and only worked out once in a while. I was definitely eating more than usual, as I was always surrounded by such big appetites, it was starting to were off on me. Even when I hung out with my brother he would want to go out and get beers, and we would stuff ourselves on bar food. It amazed me how much he had changed since sprouting that gut.

At one point shortly after I turned 30, I was hanging out at Brett's house. We were eating pizza in front of the TV when he made a strange statement.

"man you're starting to get fat." He said to me, gesturing toward my belly. A small sliver of flesh was poking out from under my size small T-Shirt which had slightly rode up.

I wasn't that surprised to hear that, as I had started to notice a change in my body a few weeks earlier. It was a little strange to hear, as he was the first person to say anything about it to me.
"Yeah," I replied, as I placed a hand on my soft little pot, shoveling the crust from a piece of pizza into my mouth. "I've been getting a bit pudgy". I lifted my shirt, and jiggled the small little mound of flesh that had appeared above my waist. It wasn't much, but the little round mass was unmistakeable. While sitting, it hung just a bit over the waistband of my tight jeans, that had gotten quite uncomfortable.
I had wondered how long it would take for someone to notice. Brett teased me about it a bit, and poked me in my soft middle. I felt slightly embarrassed, but since I new I had gained a bit I knew this was coming. I pointed out the substantial size of Brett's flabby belly, and he told me not to talk, as I'd be there sooner or later.
We spent the rest of the evening stuffing ourselves, until my small gut was swollen tighter than it had ever been.

I made no plans to diet.