Recipes for Summer Gaining: EagleDancer's Bread Pudding

Another recipe in the summer gaining series, this time brought to you by Eagledancer, a long time encourager and passionate cook. I haven't tried this one yet, but, judging from the amount of weight Eagle has packed onto his partner, I imagine it's as tasty as it is fattening. In his own words:

"Since we now live in Arizona, I don’t really do “Summer” recipes. Here in the “Valley of the Sun” (which is what the better business bureau calls the “Greater Phoenix Metropolitan Area) we only have two seasons…Spring and Hell. The SigO tells me it’s worth having 2 months of Hell in exchange for 10 months of Spring. It’s common for us to get triple digit (Fahrenheit) temperatures by May, and it hit 115 or above a number of times last year.

All the locals are in awe about what a mild Summer we’re currently having, given the fact it hadn’t hit 100 until the first week of June.

Here’s a recipe that has the three essential ingredients for the best “jiggle” factor when it come to a happy belly—fat, sugar, and carbs. It helped add inches to the SigO, who has a weakness for bread (not to mention, for fat and sugar…). Since he’s gone from size 30 jeans to size 38s, and those are getting tight, he’s insisted I cook “low fat/low calorie dinners” and then he makes peanut-butter and honey sandwiches 90 minutes later for his 4^th or 5^th meal of the day, which he tends to scarf down in the kitchen before rushing back to the TV.

This is my modification of an old fashioned treat, bread pudding. I should also mention as an American Indian, we have a variation of this on our reservation. We call it “Tsoopa” in our language. It’s made with Pueblo Indian bread which is baked in our outdoor “beehive” shaped ovens. This bread is a regular part of our traditional diet, but since it has no preservatives, if you don’t eat it quickly, it tends to go stale in the dry humidity, and quite “hard.” As a result, a recipe for “stale” bread for us is very practical. The main difference to me is that the Tsoopa is made with cheese, so it’s not considered a dessert. As a result, I had to learn about non-Indian Bread Pudding from a non-Native sister-in-law from the American South. I like to add Kalua, because I think it makes sweet things taste better, the way bacon makes almost anything taste better.

In my version, I use 2 cups of heavy cream, which provides a base of over 1,600 calories and over 170 grams of fat to throw in with over 400 calories from the ¼ cup of butter, not counting the additional calorie help from the bread, sugar and eggs. To be honest, while I’m including for completion’s sake an additional recipe for a topping, I almost never make it because most of the bread pudding is eaten by the SigO immediately after I’ve taken it from the oven and it’s too warm to pour the sauce over.

At one point, the SigO and I were in a Seattle bakery outlet store buying loaves of bread at an incredible savings, and he mentioned to the cashier, “This bread has put 20 pounds on me!” Of course, that was about 60 pounds ago…"

Eagledancer Bread Pudding

Ingredients:

2 cups Heavy Whipping Cream
1/4 cup butter
2/3 cup brown sugar (light or dark, depending on taste preference)
3 eggs
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract1 tablespoon Kalua coffee liquor
3 cups bread, torn into small pieces. (French bread works well…however, I’ll often buy a nice loaf of cinnamon-raisin bread to use, in which case I’d eliminate the extra cinnamon. Don’t stress on the type of bread—after all, one of purposes of Bread Pudding is to use up stale bread. On the other hand, I buy the cinnamon-raisin bread to use for the pudding, and I’m not going to wait for it to go stale…)
1/2 cup raisins (if I’m using the cinnamon-raisin bread, I’ll cut the amount of additional raisins in half…)

Directions:

1. In medium saucepan, over medium heat, heat the cream just until film forms over top. Combine butter and cream, stirring until butter is melted. Cool to lukewarm.

2. Combine sugar, eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, and Kalua. Beat with whisk (or an electric mixer) until smooth. Slowly add cream mixture.

3. Place bread in a lightly greased 1 1/2 quart casserole.

4. Sprinkle with raisins if desired. Pour batter on top of bread.

5. Bake at 350 degrees F for 45 to 50 minutes or until set. I do the old-fashioned thing of poking it after 45 minutes with a wooden toothpick to see if it comes out “clean.” If the pudding is sticking to the toothpick it needs to bake a little more. Serve warm.

If you make the sauce to put on top of your bread pudding, adjust the sugar in the bread pudding recipe, change it to 1/3 cups sugar (the sauce has the other 1/3 cup in it).

Bread Pudding Sauce

Ingredients:

1 cup whole milk
2 Tbsp. butter
1/3 cup granulated white sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
1 Tbsp. flour
dash of salt

Directions:

Mix everything together and bring to a boil for 3 - 4 minutes, stirring constantly. Set aside for 5 minutes, then pour on warm bread pudding. The reason I don’t use heavy cream in this one is because you need to boil it, and milk is less likely to scorch.

Recipes for Summer Gaining: Victor's Florentine Chicken Ring

So, I asked my friend Victor for a gainer friendly recipe. Being that Victor is 6' tall and 300lbs of beautifully fattened gainerman (up from 140lbs) he knows a thing or two about making yummy food that gets you growing.

Photographic Evidence of Victor's knowledge of good food:



He's literally twice as big as he was in high school. Drool. Onto the food!

Here is his recipe, and his words:

"This is a dish that I got from my mother over 15 years ago, and it is a perennial favorite with all my friends and family... Pretty much everyone I serve this to falls in love with it, and with good reason, too: the ingredients are simple, familiar, unfussy, unpretentious, easily storebought, and easily prepared.

It is hearty enough for the most diehard gainer or bodybuilder -- chock full of high-protein chicken breast and nutritious spinach -- yet is cheesy and carby enough to serve as a great comfort food too. The presentation is elegant enough for serving at a classy brunch, lunch or dinner party. Good playmates include a simple leafy green salad, a bowl of crisp chilled watermelon and cantaloupe, and some fudgy dark chocolate brownies for dessert. My beverage of choice is Coke, but if you're into wine, just go with a chilled Chardonnay or some other white wine to accompany this chicken ring."



INGREDIENTS:

- 4 chicken breasts, cooked thoroughly and cubed

- two 10-oz packages frozen chopped spinach, thawed and well-drained

- 1 cup mild cheddar or American cheese, shredded

- 1/2 cup mayonnaise

- zest of 1 lemon

- 1/2 tsp salt

- 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

- 2 tubes refrigerated crescent rolls (8 count each)

- 1 refrigerated pie crust

DIRECTIONS:

1. In a large bowl, mix the chicken, spinach, cheese, mayonnaise, lemon zest, salt and nutmeg until a homogenous blend is created.

2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Move oven rack to middle position.

3. Unroll pie crust onto a lightly greased pizza pan or pizza stone. Using a sharp knife, cut an 8-pointed star about 4" in diameter in the center of the crust.

4. Scoop the chicken mixture evenly onto the pie crust in between the star and the outer edge, staying about 1/4" away from both. Pat and mould the mixture until an even ring of filling is formed.

5. Unroll the crescents and separate them into individual triangles. Begin to cover the filling with crescents, by laying the wide end of a crescent at the outer edge of the pie crust; the narrow point of the triangle should be touching the 8-pointed star. Continue with remaining crescent rolls until the entire filling is covered in triangles. Note that small gaps may remain in between triangles; this is OK, as it allows for steam to escape. Also note that you may not use all 16 of the crescent rolls.

6. Using your fingertips, tuck and seal all the edges of the triangles into the pie crust on the outside edge of the ring. Do the same thing on the inside by rolling up the segments of the star and tucking the points of the crescent rolls into them. The end result should look like a giant donut.

7. Bake in the preheated 375-degree oven for 20-25 minutes or until the crescents are golden-brown. Serve piping hot by itself for brunch or lunch, or with a side salad as a dinner entree. Yield 10-12 servings.

I suggest you try and eat as many servings at once as possible, rub your belly and enjoy.

Recipes for Summer Gaining: Tagliatelle with Truffle Butter

The next recipe in my summer gainer recipe series comes from my dear friend (and beautifully accomplished gainer), DangerCocktail.

DangerCocktail suggested Ina Garten’s Tagliarelle with Truffle Butter as an easy dish to whip together on a weeknight or for a more formal dinner -a pretty classic, fattening recipe brightened up for spring by some fresh chives.

He suggests, “Pair it with a light, white wine -I don’t like white but you need something really light on the tongue, because the truffle butter with cream is rich. Serve that pasta with a great grilled steak or tri tip, and then a fresh spring vegetable with light butter/salt/pepper, or maybe a salad with oil and vinegar. Keep the other notes in the meal very bright and light.”

Fattening, luxurious, and easy. What more could you ask for? A recipe with both Ina Garten and DangerCocktail's stamp of approval. Yum.

Recipes for Summer Gaining: Quinoa and Avocado Salad

Like most annoying, health conscious yuppies, I’ve recently become interested in making an effort to eat locally and eat what is locally in season (in addition to trying to eat organic and as high fructose corn syrup and transfat free as possible). I'm also, obviously, working very hard to get my boyfriend bigger (haha gotta get in shape for swimsuit season). To that end, I asked a few of my gainer pals what their favorite spring/early summer recipes were so I could share them with my readers. I got all kinds of responses, so, I'm gonna post them up one at a time.

Firstly, the BF’s biggest Summer gaining tip is just add avocados to everything. He puts them on sandwiches, he puts them on burgers, he makes guacamole, he never makes a salad without them. And the effect is quite evident in his ever tightening jeans. In honor of my boyfriend’s devotion to avocados, may I present to you a Quinoa and Avocado salad with Dried Fruit, Toasted Almonds, and Lemon Cumin Vinaigrette.

Quinoa is super good for you, and avocados are loaded with healthy fat so, make a double portion and eat up! It's calorically dense, not filled with artificial shit that'll make you feel gross, and tastes amazing.

Try this and look forward to favorite gaining recipes from DangerCocktail, CubanJew, and others :)

Don't forget!

It's November 1st! Go stock up on discounted Halloween candy boys. No excuses :P Gotta get a jump on the holiday weight gain! Just remember -if you start pushing yourself today, you could be 20 or 30lbs heavier by New Years. Exciting, no?


This public service message was brought to you by The Encourager and BellyBuilders Moderator OneOddGuy.

Gym Bodies

So, a lot of the time I focus on guys getting really big, and I tend to overlook the really sort of hot, tender moment where a guy finally chooses to let go and gain. It's a moment full of passion, excitement, and if shared between two loving boyfriends, usually a lot of tenderness and relief. It's a sweet little story, a quick but satisfying read.

I remember reading this back when I was just realizing that I was into guys, and into growing guys at that, and this story really gave me a great sense of relief that there could be a sweet, sensual, tender connection between guys into all this stuff.

Hope you guys enjoy.

Gym Bodies
by J.B.

"Well, what will it be this time, Twinkies or cupcakes?", Rick pondered as he surveyed the rack of junk food. He had stopped at the grocery store on his way home from the gym to pick up a few things. He glanced into his basket - diet soda, fresh fruit, skim milk, and orange juice. After a tough workout he felt like treating himself to something bad. It was a habit of his, working out every day, watching what he ate, but once in a while splurging on junk food. "Hasn't hurt so far," he thought. At 5'10" tall Rick weighed in at a solid 180 pounds, well-built with the washboard abdominal muscles and 32 inch waist he had labored to achieve. Topped with sandy brown hair and wearing shorts an a tight white tank top, he presented a very attractive package.

"Big decision, isn't it?" a deep voice behind Rick questioned. "I prefer the Twinkies myself", the voice continued. Rick turned to see where the voice was coming from, and when he did he was pleasantly surprised. He found himself taking a quick inventory; black hair and blue eyes, beard and mustache, 5'11", about 175 pounds, well defined muscles, tight abs, very attractive. Rick smiled back at him.

"Whatever I choose I'll have to pay for at the gym tomorrow".

The other man laughed. "Tell me about it," he said, "but that isn't going to stop me, either." They stood for a few minutes talking about what gyms they belonged to, reps and sets, free weights and nautilus. "The name's Jerry", the stranger said, offering his hand. Rick introduced himself as he shook Jerry's hand. "Listen, I've got an idea", Jerry said then.

"As long as we're both being bad why not do it together? You pick a box of something and I'll pick a box of something and we can go back to my place and enjoy it. Besides, if two guys are doing it together it cancel out the guilt." With a laugh, Rick agreed.

"Want a beer?" Jerry yelled from the kitchen of his apartment.

"Sure, why not - may as well go all out" Rick yelled back from the couch.

"In that case, I'll order us a pizza, and we'll probably need this stuff too" Jerry said as he entered the room carrying a half gallon of ice cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, 2 bowls, and a six-pack of beer. He handed a can of beer to Rick, noticed his raised eyebrows, an said "Oh come on, how often do you really let go, really pig out? From the looks of that hot body of yours, not very often". With a grin Rick gave in, noticing the stirring in his crotch and the beginnings of a hard-on at Jerry's words. Two hours later the ice cream and sauce were gone, as were both boxes of Twinkies, and they were finishing their second six pack of beer. Only 4 slices of pizza were left in the box.

"May as well finish them" Jerry said. His tee shirt was rolled up, and his belly looked rounded from all he had eaten.

"I can't", Rick mumbled, "I'm really stuffed." He had his feet propped on the coffee table, his tank top stretched over his full belly, and his gym shorts pulled low to relieve the pressure on his stomach. He ran one hand over his midsection, surprised at how hard and full it felt. Oddly enough, he also felt horny.

"Sure you can", Jerry said, gently stroking Rick's full belly, "here, let me help you". He picked up a slice of pizza and put it to Rick's mouth, and with a little pressure pushed it in, rubbing Rick's belly the whole time. He then stuffed 2 more slices in, gently but firmly ignoring Rick's mumbled protests. Part of Rick wanted to get up and leave, this was going too far, he had eaten way too much. But a bigger part of him was enjoying the sensation of laying back with a full belly and having a hot man caress it, and the moment Jerry had shoved the food in Rick had gotten an instant, raging hard-on. "There's one slice left," Jerry said, "why don't you help me out?" Rick leaned over and shoved the pizza in, rubbing Jerry's distended abdomen as he did an noticing the growing bulge in Jerry's shorts.

They staggered off together to Jerry's bed, where they rubbed each others bellies and jerked each other off. Full and slightly drunk Rick and Jerry passed out together.

Rick opened his eyes the next morning to see Jerry standing in front of the mirror. "Good morning - just checking things out - doesn't look like there was any permanent damage". With a smile Rick laid back with a hand on his own stomach, remembering how full it had been.

"Shit, we ate a lot last night" Jerry said coming back to the bed.

"I know, I can't remember ever being that full, " Rick said, "but you know... it felt kind of good - it made me horny as hell."

Jerry looked at him for a second, then said "Yeah, me too." He paused, then asked "Did you ever want to just say fuck it? Fuck the gyms and the work-outs always dieting, always worrying? Just eat whatever you want, whenever you want, forgetting the sit-ups, and just letting yourself go?"

"Sometimes," Rick answered slowly, all of a sudden unsure of himself. Years of commitment, of sweat and hard work, and long hours at the gym, and, he thought, of denial. But to throw all that away...?

"Then why don't we?" Jerry practically shouted, "we can go for it together - pigging out, gaining weight - partners in crime". He laid a hand on Rick's stomach, "What do you say?" Drawing a deep breath, and remembering the sensuality of the previous night, Rick agreed to it.

"Great!" Jerry exclaimed, "and we'll keep track of our progress - pictures, weights, measurements - we're going to have a blast!" He kissed Rick long and hard, and said softly "and we're going to do it together".

One month later, Rick woke to the smell of bacon frying. It had been a month of gorging themselves, of constant eating and drinking.

Big, greasy breakfasts every morning, fast food lunches, and huge dinners after work washed down with gallons of beer, followed by sweets and desserts until bed, where they would lay for hours, rubbing their bloated bellies together, exploring each other's changing body - the thickening middles, the rolls at the sides, the softening chins. Rick loved to lay back and let Jerry run his tongue all over his full stomach.

They had discovered that the various weight gain products the had taken to build muscle also helped to add fat, especially when mixed with generous helpings of ice cream. They would take turns force feeding each other, each helping to stretch the other's stomach. With slight smile, Rick ran a hand over his stomach. Gone were his washboard abs, replaced with a soft, round pot belly. He could feel the love handles forming at his sides. This morning would be a special one - it was the start of their vacation. For the past month they would squeeze in as much eating as possible around their jobs, and of course on weekends. Now they had 1 month of uninterrupted gluttony, and they were going to make the best of it. "Let's go my little piglet, breakfast is waiting - on the scale!" Jerry yelled as he entered the bedroom. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts, and his developing spare tire hung over the waistband. Rick climbed on the scale, and waited for Jerry to read it. "196" Jerry said, as he wrapped the measuring tape around Rick's waist, "and 34 inches; now it's my turn. How much?"

"189", Rick replied, "33 and 1/2 inches around the middle".

"Not bad", Jerry commented, "16 pounds for you and 14 for me - we're off to a good start." He took Rick in his arms and rubbed their bellies together, asking "Any regrets?"

"Only one", Rick answered with a smile, "Its taking too long. I want a big gut and I want it now! Let's eat!"

Breakfast consisted o mounds of pancakes drenched with butter and syrup, and piles of bacon and sausage, soaked in grease. The sight of the table alone gave both men a hard-on. They tore into the food, washing it down with glasses o weight gain shake. When Jerry started to slow down Rick grabbed handfuls of pancakes and shoved them into Jerry's mouth, followed by chunks of butter, and syrup poured in straight from the bottle. Jerry moaned with pleasure, his hands dropping down to caress his expanding gut as he sucked the last of the syrup out of the bottle. Rick and Jerry staggered off to the bedroom, laying on their backs to keep the pressure off their bloated bellies. "I'll be right back", Jerry said.

He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a funnel and 2 large pitchers of weight gain shake. Rick eyed the funnel; "I'm already real stuffed" he said, "and we've never tried that before." Jerry smiled and caressed Rick's belly.

"It's time we tried - one for you and one for me - this will really bloat us out," he said as he gently inserted the funnel into Rick's mouth, and poured the drink in. Rick's belly felt a if it would burst, as it protruded rock hard into the air. He groaned, combination of pleasure and discomfort as the heavy liquid poured down his reluctant throat. He also felt a raging erection starting as his belly expanded. When the last drops had been poured in Jerry removed the funnel and lay back in the bed. Rick rolled over and, struggling to work around his swollen belly, poured the weight gain shake into the funnel, now stuck in Jerry's waiting mouth. At the same time Rick massaged Jerry's hard dick, bringing him to orgasm as he drained the pitcher into Jerry's mouth. Jerry shot load after load, covering his bloated belly with sticky cum. Rick knelt over him, swaying under the weight of his over-full gut, and shot his load all over Jerry, collapsing next to him as the last stream shot from his dick. They lay there bell to belly, and Jerry whispered "and that was only our first meal - imagine what the rest of the vacation will be like".

The rest of the vacation was beyond anything in Rick or Jerry's wildest imaginations. They spent days and nights gorging themselves, wild feeding sessions followed by sex made more erotic by the feeling o their distended bellies rubbing together. Rick would cover his swollen gut, chest, dick, and balls with chocolate sauce and make Jerry lick it off, burying Jerry's face in the soft fat that was growing there. They would set the alarm clock for the middle of the night and take turns pouring pitchers of weight gain concoctions into each other. After hug meals Jerry would hoist Rick's legs in the air and, his bloated gut resting on Rick's, shove cookies or donuts down Rick's throat as he fucked him, slapping his balls into Rick's newly soft, rounded ass, their developing paunches grinding together. They would stuff themselves with beer and pizza, and then lay in bed in the 69 position, taking turns on top and feeling the erotic thrill of the others full, expanding gut pressing down on his face, being buried in a mound of flesh. At the end of the month the results were impressive. Rick weighed in at 217 pounds, and Jerry at 212 pounds; both measured 38 inches around the waist. Muscles were softening, and covered by fat. Firm asses were now soft and fleshy. Tight abs and lean chins had been replaced by paunches and double chins. Jerry shaved his beard just so Rick could see the soft fold of flesh growing there. And neither man wanted to stop. "Well tomorrow it's back to work", Rick said as he lay next to Jerry, kneading the soft rolls spreading over Jerry's sides, "too bad it has to end."

"Does it?" Jerry asked. "I've got some money saved up, plus sick days, plus..."

Zeke

So, here is a quick little thing I wrote. It's not a full on story and there will be no other chapters, but, I think it's got some fun imagery, so, get a snack and check it out.

Read Zeke after the jump.

Zeke

By Get A. Snack

After a long night of parties we had ended up at a bar in the East Village. I really liked going out downtown, but it was always a hassle to get my friends to agree to head down there. Despite the fact that it was a bit of a trek from our uptown apartments, I liked that it was a little edgier than the Disney-fied, midtown bars that we always seemed to end up at… I thought of the bars in midtown as sort of bars on antidepressants. Everything was Ok, the peaks and valleys had been smoothed out –the guys weren’t usually terrible, but they weren’t terribly hot either. In the East Village, the hot guys were hotter, but the not hot guys, well, you get what I’m saying.
As it was now nearly 2 in the morning. I had a comfortable buzz going. Thanks to a whisky sour at my friend Chloe’s birthday party, and a caiparina or two that I had at a roof party that a friend of mine had thrown in one of the more hip and fashionable neighborhoods of Brooklyn, I was feeling good. Not smashed, but relaxed.

“Hey, you’re cute, what’s your name?”

A handsome, dirty-blonde guy was holding out his hand to me. He had really nice features, and was more my type than most of the guys I found out at gay bars. He looked like he was maybe 25 years old, perfect skin, nice, albeit drunk, eyes, and a cute, stocky build. Muscles to spare with a bit of a gut, just like I like ‘em. Except that he was an inch or two shorter than me, he had the look of a guy who had played college football but also never said no to a beer.

“I’m Alex. What’s your name?” I responded, taking his hand and flashing the dirty blonde guy a quick smile.

“I’m Zeke. You’re really hot.” He took a slightly unsteady step closer to me and moved his arm to the small of my back.

“You’re really forward.” I grinned again. “And drunk too I’d wager.”

Zeke grinned sheepishly

“I’m ok.” He insisted “I’ve just been having too much fun with my buddies tonight. But I’m ok, I swear. Having a good night?”

We started through the usual bar small talk questions –what do you do, where do you live, where did you go to school, etc… Turns out that Zeke was old than I thought, just turned 30 rather than 25. He was more shocked that I was 22, less than a year out of college, and giving him the time of day than I was that he was 30. He was a VP at a real estate brokerage firm (which he of course took up after modeling for a while in his early 20s) and lived by himself in a penthouse on the Upper East Side. Although I generally hook up with guys my own age, these were generally very good answers to the bar small talk test.

After a few more minutes of flirting, Zeke suggested we go get something to eat somewhere. We walked around the village, hunting for somewhere that the model jock boy could get some food. We walked under some scaffolding and he grabbed onto one of the cross bars and did a pull-up.

“Look, isn’t that hot?” He said as he grinned down from the bar at me, very boyishly pleased with himself. “Can you do that? Do you lift weights?”

While I was most assuredly not at muscled as Zeke, I was decently muscled for my frame, and jumped up and did a pull-up with little struggle.

“That’s hot. I really like a guy who works out. I like working out. You should’ve seen me when I was in high school, I was so scrawny.” He absentmindedly rubbed his thick biceps as he spoke.

“I’m just fucking starving. I haven’t had carbs in a week, I’m really trying to lose this.” He rubbed his cute little football and beer belly. “Salads never fill me up. That’s all I’ve been eating. We should find a diner or something around here… Or we could go uptown, I know a good diner by my place.”

Although it usually takes much more than a cute guy, three drinks and a few nice compliments to get me to go home with someone, I figured grabbing a quick bite with a somewhat swollen ex-jock wouldn’t be so bad, and if worst came to worst, my place was just a quick taxi across the park.

When we got to the diner, Zeke poured over the menu with gusto. “I love diners. You can get whatever you want. They have everything. This place is good, you won’t go wrong here, I always end up here when I get drunk.”

After little deliberation, Zeke settled on an order of onion soup to start, and a deluxe bacon cheeseburger platter, with a double order of onion rings instead of fries. I decided to order some matzoth ball soup. I wasn’t that hungry, but I knew Zeke would feel self conscious eating alone, and that the water in the soup would be a small step in the process of re-hydrating myself and avoiding a hangover in the morning.

“The whole no carb thing is so hard, but man, it works if you can keep to it. I don’t know how I got so fat. I really need to lose this gut.”

“I think you look fine. You worry too much.” I smirked at him.

He smiled at me and leaned in across the table.

“You wanna hear a secret?”

“Sure.” I replied, leaning closer.

“You see these?” He grabbed one of the individual jam servings that was sitting next to the butter packets on the diner table. “Sometimes I just want carbs so bad, like now, I just eat these plain.”

To demonstrate his point, with practiced precision, he quickly opened the packet and scooped it’s contents out with his fork, and devoured it.

“Mmmmm…. Sugar.” He half moaned.

He repeated this process half a dozen times before our soups arrived. Although some part of me was a little grossed out because I personally would never touch individual jam packets that had been sitting in a diner for only God knows how long, another part of me was a little turned on by the sort of vulnerable desperation that this handsome, beefy ex-model-musclejock was showing with his need for carbs.

Zeke attacked his meal like he had never before seen food. I paced myself in eating my soup so as to not highlight to him how much he was consuming. He devoured his French onion in no time at all, scraping the burnt cheese from the crock with his spoon. He tore into his enormous burger like an animal. I made an effort to talk more so as to distract him from how much time he was spending chewing.

Finally, when every bite of burger, every crumb of onion ring and every speck of coleslaw had been devoured, Zeke leaned back in his chair and put is hands on his belly.

“Oof. I am full. That was good. I can’t believe I ate all those carbs… Oof I am full. I gotta lie down.”

We paid the bill and quickly left the restaurant. We passed more scaffolding, and Zeke tried his pull up trick, but came just shy of pulling himself all the way up.

“Gut’s too full.” He mumbled sheepishly, “But you saw I could do it before… You know I’m in shape.”

I smiled deviously and nodded.

“You’re hot.” I grinned and wrapped my arms around his waist.

He leaned and in kissed me. It was sweet and passionate and lusty all at the same time. He took my hand and tugged me on after him.

His apartment was impressive. On the 23rd floor of a doorman 5th Avenue building, the grand apartment was impeccably clean except for a few empty chip bags sitting on the table in front of his massive flatscreen.

“I need to get the maid in here, I never clean up after myself. It’s terrible.”

I walked up behind him and put my arms around his full midsection.

“Looks fine to me.” I grinned and squeezed him a little.

“Careful buddy, I got a full tank.” He smiled. “I’m thirsty. You want something?”

I said a glass of water should be fine and he returned from the kitchen in a matter of moments with my glass of water, his glass of milk (whole from how thick it looked), and no shirt. His belly, despite his valiant effort to suck in, was rolling a little over the top of his strained jeans. From the looks of his wardrobe, the belly was either a new addition to his otherwise muscular body, or something that he was quite committed to denying.

“You look like you wanna relax.”

I walked up to him and kissed him hard on the mouth. Before he could put the two glasses down, I pulled his head to mine with one hand, and with the other, undid the poor, tortured top button of his jeans. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around me and kissed back, trying not to spill the milk or water.

“I think we should go into the bedroom.”

Not to gloss over the sex, which was pretty amazing, but, hey, a boys gotta keep something to himself. Anyway, what stuck with me from the night was the after sex moments. We laid in bed, spooning, him as the little spoon, me as the bigger spoon. I wrapped my arm around him, and rested my hand on his belly. As he drifted off to sleep, he finally relaxed his stomach muscles and let his gut out. It felt like it was just growing right there, under my hand. As he slept, I rubbed it a little and he moaned a little in pleasure.

“That feels good.” He mumbled, half drunk and half asleep.

I slept like a baby.