Chapter 1

An embarrassing gut

I pulled my stretchy T-shirt down and wrapped my long cardigan around my middle. I’d polished off a whole pizza and a few ciders, and the low rise jeans of the mid 2000s weren’t doing me any favours.

It was my first year at uni, and the pounds had rather predictably piled on. I was somewhat in denial, but a few tagged photos had shown me that the damage was real. Wide from the side and round in the front. I’d grown a beer gut and it was becoming difficult to disguise.

I was living with my boyfriend. We’d been together for a couple of years and decided to go to university together. I could tell that he wasn’t a fan of my new figure. He wasn’t so interested in sex with me, and he made a few comments about my portion sizes and outfit choices.

I sucked in my belly around him as much as I could remember, but we liked to drink. After a few ciders my attempts were futile, and my bloated gut would stick out of my tight T-shirts. My jean buttons strained, and even my bras were tight, creating rolls and bulges that were clear to see through my outgrown clothes. He was embarrassed of me for sure.

Standing in front of the mirror one morning, I was shocked. Even empty, my belly puffed out in front of me. My belly button was deep and visible through my top. Red marks on my hips showed that my stretchy pyjamas were struggling against my girth. Enough was enough. I embarked on a crash diet and shed most of the new weight. By the time second year rolled around I was fitting comfortably into UK10 jeans, and my gut was just a memory. An embarrassing result of overindulgence, documented by only a couple of Facebook photos buried deep in my profile.

Fast forward to 2020. I split with my university boyfriend shortly after we graduated. After a couple of serious relationships I found myself newly single in my early 30s. I was still a UK10, although my figure slightly softer than when I was in my 20s.

Then the pandemic hit. Working from home, I no longer cycled to commute to the office. I traded my workwear for comfier clothing. Living alone, I often ordered in takeaway dinners rather than cooking for one. I snacked a lot, and indulged daily in desserts and treats that would have usually been reserved for weekends only.

The pounds piled on quickly, again. I wasn’t in denial this time, but I also didn’t really mind. I sized up to a UK12, but 6 months in even the stretchy stuff was getting a pretty tight. Intrigued one night, I tried on a pair of pre pandemic size 10 jeans. I struggled to pull them over my thickening thighs, then completely failed to button them around my newly formed gut. It was bigger than my uni days, and I wasn’t even slightly surprised. I’d gained 30+ pounds in half a year, with most of it settling around my middle.

Peeling the jeans off, I was so turned on. The sight of me struggling with the button and looking like an overfed butterball was too much. I lay back on the bed and rubbed my bulging belly with one hand and my clit with the other. I imagined if my uni ex could see me now. How embarrassed he would be of my gut that entered the room before I did. I came hard and fast, panting on the bed with my belly sticking up proudly.

By July the next year I was tipping the scales at 182lbs. That was a gain of 44lbs in just over a year. Most of my now size 14 clothing was pulling tight around my midsection, and I’d crossed over to a size 16 for a couple of items. My belly protruded a couple of inches out in front of my ample breasts. My face looked softer and i had a slight double chin. My limbs had taken much less of the added weight, but my thick thighs did touch and wobble. My bum was certainly wider and rounder, but my gut was where most of the gain had settled.

As the country was opening up again, I began to socialise with my friends. We’d meet at the pub and sit in the beer garden for hours at a time. I was glad to see that I wasn’t the only one who had porked up during lockdown. My best friend Kate had been a bit chunky for a while, but she had clearly gained quite a bit more. She had an hourglass figure with huge thighs and puffy arms. Her brother, Sam, had moved back from London during the pandemic. He was chunky too, with thick legs and a tummy that filled out his
T-shirts.

One evening it was just me and Sam left at the table. I had taken to wearing skater style dresses. They didn’t hide my gain, but they were loose and comfortable and made my gut look less obscene. Tonight though, I had eaten too much pizza and I was bloated from the beer.
My belly stuck out like a shelf below my breasts, resting like a beach ball in my lap. I rubbed the overstretched sides to try and relieve some pressure, and noticed that Sam kept glancing down at my middle.

My face turned pink - maybe this bulging belly was actually embarrassing. “A bit too much pizza” I giggled awkwardly,

“And the rest!” replied Sam.

My face burned with shame. Sam immediately realised he’d overstepped.

“Sorry. I think we all packed on a bit to be fair.”
He lifted up his T-shirt, revealing a podgy stomach with a deep belly button. His shorts button was undone and he had quite the muffin top.
“I think I need to go shopping. These used to fit me…”

I looked down at my less than loose dress, and realised that I was up 3, maybe even 4 sizes now.
“Meh, I’m sure we’ll all shape back up now things are getting back to normal.”

“Well I think you look great.” said Sam.

We finished up our drinks, then went to leave. I was so bloated that I struggled to get up from the bench. Sam moved round and helped me up like a was a pregnant lady. And that’s kind of how I looked. All of this pub garden socialising was worse for my waistline than lockdown.

I got home and decided I should survey the damage. 191lbs. That was another 9lbs in just a month. No wonder my gut was looking bigger! I waddled to the mirror and saw how it swelled out from under my breasts. A perfect dome which rounded out in every direction. It jiggled a bit, but was pretty firm from all of the pizza and beer. I thought about those size 10 jeans, but there was no way. My 16s would have struggled to button at that point.

Turned on by the sight of my ridiculous belly, I lay back on the bed. Only to be interrupted by a message from Sam:

“Hey, sorry if I embarrassed you earlier. I think I had too much to drink. I meant what I said though, you look great. Do you fancy going out for dinner next Friday? Just the two of us x”

Clearly he wasn’t put off by my bloated form earlier. He was cute, and we got on well. “Yes” I replied. “Where were you thinking?”

“How about I drive us to that new Mexican place? Pick you up at 6? x”

My mouth watered at the thought. “Great shout, see you then!”

…..

Friday came around quickly. I decided on another trusty skater style dress. I noticed bits of fat peeking out by my arm pits, spilling over my bra. I was looking meatier all over. The fabric band below my breasts was a little tight. I was becoming a real fatty. I hopped curiously onto the scale - 193lbs. Another 2lbs in less than a week, what the heck? I myself promised that I wouldn’t pig out too much tonight…

Sam turned up slightly early, which was fine. I got into his car and noticed how it felt different to buckle up the seatbelt over my big belly. I didn’t drive, and it had been a long time since I’d been in a car.

Sam looked cute. He had a round, kind face and mousy brown hair. He was wearing a button down shirt which looked a little snug around his spare tyre middle. His jeans looked tight - I guessed that these clothes were from pre lockdown.

Neither of us had visited this restaurant before, and the menu looked delicious. We were both struggling to choose from the menu, so Sam suggested ordering a few dishes and sharing. Don’t pig out, I reminded myself.

By the time the food arrived I had already sunk 2 cocktails. Sam stuck to alcohol free beer as he was driving. As the waiter brought the dishes to the table I became very aware that we had over ordered.

“Eek, this is a lot of food” said Sam as he pulled at his shirt.

“Yup” I said sheepishly, as a instinctively rubbed one hand down my belly.

“Well, we’d better make a start then” Sam said with a grin, as if we were accepting a challenge.

He dug in fast, and I was impressed at how much he was packing in. I don’t think he was used to spicy food, as I saw sweat bead across his forehead and he quickly sunk 2 more beers.

He looked across at me and surveyed what was left on the table. “Come on, I know you’ve got a bigger appetite than this!”

“Well, I don’t want to make a pig of myself” I gestured towards my belly.

“I wouldn’t worry about that!”
He patted his swollen belly. His jean button was undone and his shirt buttons were visibly straining.

“Okay, okay!”
It would be a shame to waste good food, and I was keen to try everything.

Between us we cleared every dish. I felt pretty full, but I hadn’t really overdone it. The same couldn’t be said for my date. He kept readjusting his waistband, and was obviously a little uncomfortable in his too-small clothes. I suggested that we could go for a little stroll, and perhaps find some ice cream. He laughed at the suggestion of more food, but was keen to walk off the meal.

As we stood up, Sam tried to discreetly button his jeans back up. It was clearly a struggle, and ended up being far from discreet. I followed him out of the restaurant, admiring his chunky love handles.

We walked along the river to the ice cream stand. Sam declined, but insisted that I had some. He put one hand on top of my belly shelf and pressed gently. “Definitely some more room in there!” He winked at me cheekily as we queued.

Maybe it was the cocktails, but I returned the gesture and patted the front of his straining belly. “Yours feels pretty full”. He blushed as I winked back at him.

I sucked down a double Mr Whippy (Sam’s choice), and realised that now I’d overdone it too. So much for not pigging out.

Back in the car, Sam undid his jean button again. Both of us sat with our guts spreading out further into our laps. It was such a turn on! I said goodnight to Sam as i struggled out of the car. Was he checking out my swollen middle as he waved goodbye?

I was cradling my full tummy as my phone pinged:
“Are you free tomorrow? My friend has a river boat we can borrow. I’ll pack a picnic… ?”

“Sounds great, I’m in!”
I fell asleep stroking my overstretched sides, thinking of Sam doing the same to his.

….


The next morning I dug through my clothes to find something appropriate. I settled on denim shorts and a loose (ish) cami vest. My bum was looking bigger these days and filled the shorts out nicely. My gut hung out the front on the shorts, so I pulled them up to contain it as much as they could. When I sat down, my belly bulged above and below the waistband. I figured the cami top would cover this up enough, and so long as I didn’t pig out it would be fine. I wore my bikini underneath, but I had no intention of swimming today.

I cycled down to the boatyard to meet Sam. I’d become pretty unfit and was sweaty and out of breath before I got there. I stopped around the corner to compose myself. Before I know it, I’d chugged my whole bottle of coke. Bloated already, great.

Sam was already there waiting. He wore tight chino shorts and a polo shirt. Evidently another pre pandemic outfit, they were both overly tight around his tubby middle. He really did need to go shopping.

Sam walked me to the boat. It was a hot day and this seemed like the perfect date activity.

“Let’s have an iced coffee before we set off”
Sam opened up a cool box packed full of goodies, before pulling out a box of pastries and doughnuts. “And one or two of these…”

I dutifully obliged, sipping my iced coffee and scarfing down a pastry, then a doughnut. They just looked so good! And Sam was indulging too, so it felt like I had the green light to eat what I liked.

We chatted and flirted as Sam steered the boat along the river. The day was getting hotter, and Sam took off his polo shirt to reveal his bare torso. He really was quite plump, and I enjoyed the view.

As lunchtime rolled around, I had already eaten another doughnut and started on Prosecco from cool box. Sam took out a huge picnic hamper and started to lay it out on the table in front of me. There was easily enough to feed 8 people. I looked at him, confused. Were more people joining us? “Let’s do this” he said, patting the top bulge of my belly. “I know you can handle more”
Sam looked into my eyes and grabbed my lower gut.

Fuck. Only then did it dawn on me. He wanted to see me pig out. He must have liked seeing me all full and bloated. I nodded and put my hands either side of his tubby tummy. “I know you can to”, I challenged.

So we ate, drank, and ate some more. Sam unbuttoned his shorts early on. His belly swelled further and further into his lap.

My shorts cut into the middle of my belly until I could take no more. I lifted up my cami vest and undid the button, then watched my belly push the zip all the way down. I tucked the shorts under my puffed out gut and marvelled at how it rested so far out on my thighs. I pulled the cami top back down. By now it was tight and the ident of my deep bellybutton was clear to see.
I leant back and rubbed the top shelf of my belly. Sam started to rub my aching sides. “More” he whispered as he held a slice of cheesecake up to my lips. I ate the slice, then reached for another. I was so up for this challenge.

An hour later and the cheesecake was gone. I breathing had become laboured and I had to fully lay back on the bench to ease the pressure in my belly. I had never been so full in my life. The skin on my gut was taut and itching. I lifted up my cami top but it was pointless. There was no relief, and now my bare belly stuck up a good foot in front of me. I must have looked beyond pregnant.

“Sleep it off” whispered Sam and he continued to gently massage the swollen dome. I hoped that no other boaters would pass by - what on earth would they think? I nodded off as it’s all I could do at this point.

I woke up groaning and struggled back to a sitting position. My gut was still bigger than it had ever been, resting so far down my thighs that i couldn’t see my shorts. Sam looked impressed. “Wow. You really could pack more away!”

I blushed, and somehow got myself to a standing position. I really needed to pee, so I headed below deck to the loo. I just about squeezed into the tiny cubicle. There was full length mirror on the back of the door, and that’s when I saw just how obscene my gut looked. I felt from the solid top shelf, down to the slightly jiggly underbelly. I was fucking huge. And wet. So fucking wet.

I exited the loo to find Sam had joined me below deck.
I then realised just how much he must have packed away too. He’d given up with the chino shorts and changed into a pair of swimming shorts. His gut looked shiny, distended and thoroughly stuffed. My hands gently caressed his fat sides, before lightly pushing on the full front of his belly. He was visibly hard.

He pulled off my shorts and bikini bottoms, then bent me over doggy style. Kissing my back, he wrapped his arms around the girth of my now hanging belly, struggling to reach the bottom. Pushing his cock into me, I felt his heavy belly on my back. We both came quickly, which was a relief - we were far too full to last for long. We lay down on the small bed and slept some more.

Upon waking, we both went back to the upper deck. The evening sun was beautiful, and I felt bad for sleeping so much of the day away. Sam steered us back to the boatyard - gut proudly sticking out in front of him.

There was no way I could get my shorts back up, so I was only dressed in my bikini bottoms with my huge belly hanging out of my now tight cami vest.

Sam moored the boat, then we walked back through the boatyard. There were a few people around and I blushed as I wondered what they must have thought of us waddling past. “Uh oh” it dawned on me. “I can’t cycle home like this!”

“No problem, I’ll drive you home. Unless you fancy dinner at my place?”

I couldn’t turn down such an invite. I had I feeling that this was the start of something bigger for both of us.