The Blogoshpere gets even fatter!

Just a quick post to tell you guys to check out these new gainer/encourager related blogs I've stumbled upon recently.

Belly Envy's Progress Blog
Taylor's Fattening Male Celeb Blog
A Gainer's Journal
Ciccionlan (This one's in Italian)
RiotBear

They will make you hungry. I've got a new story I'm working on so, keep an eye out for that, and if you can think of anything you want me to blog about (if you're really proud of your growth, if there's a gainer you are totally admiring), email me!

GetASnack@gmail.com

Nothing after the jump

Merry Christmas to all!

And to all a good night!

Talk to me!

So, as I was playing around today, I figured out how to place a Meebo widget on here. You an see it in the sidebar, under the links. If I'm online, you can easily reach me there. I think it's pretty neat. IM me! Say hi! Meebo is a remote IM service that lets you use multiple accounts all over a sleek web interface. It's super useful for accessing your accounts when you're not on your own comp (my laptop exploded, so, this has become invaluable to me).

Also, although I have not been able to find any pictures to support this, I saw the movie Dan in Real Life recently, and I figured I would let you guys know that Norbert Leo Butz, a well known Broadway actor, plays the main character's brother, and man, he's gotten very chubby. Not super fat, but, he's def. at that sorta cute, cuddly, handsome young Dad who eats too many cookies stage. Plus, the movie is decent.

Last but not least, I added a youtube widget to the blog so you guys can quickly see what vids I've recently favorited on youtube.

Gotta love how all of this web 2.0 social networking stuff makes expanding your spankbank easier, right?

Nothing after the jump. Go eat something :P

Ryan Gosling -Closet gainer?

Before


After

I thought that you guys would all appreciate this. Apparently actor Ryan Gosling took it on himself to put on weight for a role he had for an upcoming movie, The Lovely Bones, but ended up getting too fat for the role! This reads like gainer fiction. Handsome, young heartrhob moviestar has to chunk up for a role but chunks up too much. Drool. One of my friends saw him wandering around Soho this past weekend and said he looked noticably big, like a lumberjack. Very sexy. Although this movie ended up not getting made with Mr.Gosling in the lead, check out Lars and The Real Girl. Apparently Gosling also gained for that.

Celebrity weight gain for a role is such a great idea for a story. I'd love to see something well written about it. A friend of mine pointed out an interview that George Clooney and Matt Damon gave after working together on Syriana that read like something out of a gainerfic. Damon told the interviewer how in order to help George gain weight for the role, he and Clooney would sit in his room and just gorge on pasta. Apparently Mr. Damon uninentionally put on a good 20-25lbs during the filming. Can you imagine being the roomservice boy in that hotel? Droooool. lol

One more quick update - a new gainer blog I wanted to mention. First, there's another blog to keep an eye on -check out newbie gainer A Growing Wolf. He's new to the gaining scene, but, I think this boy's got potential. Eat up boys, and shoot some encouragment to that skinny little wolf ;)

The blogosphere grows...

Hey boyos,

I know it's been a while, but, hey, my life is complicated. So many guys to feed, so little time. There have been two blogs that have poked up recently that I want to make you guys aware of -Ravenous Haven, a blog run by my friend, and the esteemed author of Feeding Roman (and many other excellent stories), Zmariottax. He's cute, he's smart, and he's growing. Check him out boys.

Secondly, but not less importantly, I wanted to point out A Growing Git. This blog, run by Stupid Git, is really actually excellently done. It's currently the gainer blog to beat in my opinion (although Ravenous Haven may give it a run for it's money). I don't actually know Mr. Git (read: say hi, I love your blog), but, his posts are fun, and, well, it doesn't hurt that he's very easy on the eyes.

Another link I've been meaning to post is to Adam & Andy. Run by James Asal, a cute muscleboy turned cute bellied ex-jock, it's just an adorable comic strip centered on two cute married guys living in my home state of Connecticut. James manages to capture the playfulness, sweetness, and love that I really hope I find some day... It's a great read, and I plan to do a post about the strip in more detail at some later date. But read it. Religiously. I do.

I also thought I'd point out my page on youtube. Although I only have one vid up (and it's a commercial I featured on the blog earlier, it's not of me), I still have a pretty decent collection of favorites and subscriptions. It's not as filtered as the blog (think of it as an archive rather than a refined sampling) but it might help guys out there find some hot stuff on youtube.

Ok, this encourager is beat. Hopefully I'll find the time to keep this blog updated, but, let's be honest, I prolly won't... Eat hard men.

Nothing after the jump.

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.

Growing Up - Chapter VI

With at least the first, big, emotional hurdle out of the way, I figured I'd try to have a lil fun with the boys. Even though I'm deviating from reality a bit, I'm realizing as I write how much this really is a composite of experiences I've had over the years (haha I write things like that and then wonder why people think I'm older than 22... but I digress). Either way, there's one big difference about this chapter that you guys should be able to easily pick up on if you've been reading. Figured I'd give myself a little challenge in writing this one.

Read the next chapter of Growing Up after the jump.

Growing Up

By Get A. Snack

Chapter VI

“You hungry?” Mark asked excitedly from the dining room.

“Can I come out of here now?” I replied.

Mark had made me stay in the bedroom while he prepared dinner for us both, but mainly for me I guess. For the past several hours, smells and sounds had drifted into the bedroom, distracting me from my writing. Mark appeared in the doorway to our bedroom wearing that shit-eating little boy grin that was a large part of why I had first been attracted to him.

“You better be hungry babe…” He said as he came up behind my chair and tousled my hair. “I’ve outdone myself.”

Mark wasn’t kidding. When I walked into our dining area, the table was positively groaning with beautiful, glorious smelling foods.

“Everything from scratch” Mark chuckled, “Crab, lobster, and vegetable gratin with pasta, breaded chicken cutlets with rosemary in a white wine sauce, scallops pan seared in a ginger-wasabi rub... And then there’s dessert.”

“You don’t expect me to eat all of this, do you?” I asked with a smile.

“Well, I don’t want you to eat anything you don’t want to… And I’m eating too.. But it’d be hot if you gave it the good old college try. The thought of you just, totally stuffed with my cooking is such a turn on.. I’m starting to get hard just thinking about it”

One look down to his jeans confirmed this.

“I’ll try for ya babe. The idea of eating whatever I want and not worrying about putting on a few is really fun… As is the idea of turning you on.”

“You always turn me on.”



Mark grabbed two beautiful mojitos off the counter, each with a little piece of sugar cane as a stirer.

“First, a toast. To there being more to love, of my beautiful boyfriend.”

Mark pulled me close and kissed me hard. His hands rested on my love handles and pressed in ever so slightly. I could feel his dick getting harder through his pants.

I pulled back.

“We better eat before it gets cold, right? Wouldn’t want all of this beautiful food to go to waste… And you can’t keep your boyfriend cooped up in that bedroom and not feed him,” I teased ,“I get hungry babe.”

This just riled Mark more, but I insisted that we sit down and eat. He was like a little excited puppy dog who had just been let out of his cage. His eyes shown with a childlike fascination when I did the slightest things to acknowledge my little belly. And basically every time I made any sort of comment about being hungry, or something not fitting, he was hard as a rock.

Having this kind of power of Mark was pretty hot, I have to admit.

I also have to admit, my boyfriend is one hell of a cook. Everything he made was nothing short of succulent. It’s amazing the taste that comes into food when you’re not worrying about using low-fat this and sugar-free that. Although I came far short of finishing everything, I was quite proud that I put a decent dent in the Herculean spread.

“Oof.. I am stuffed babe. I’m sorry I didn’t finish more of your beautiful dinner.. I’m just, so full”

I dramatically rubbed my stomach from top to bottom groaned a little. Mark stared.

“Aw, babe.. It’s ok. You did great.”

Mark got up from his seat and came over to me. He kissed me deeply and rubbed my swollen belly. I have to admit, fetish or no, it felt good. It distracted me from the pressure. He looked me in the eye, and with a mischevious smirk whispered into my ear:

“I bet you have room for dessert though.”

The sensation of his warm breath and his soft lips dusting against my ear made me shiver. Mark smiled and undid the top button on my pants. The relief was welcome. The jeans I was wearing had been snug before dinner and at this point were begging for mercy.

“I dunno babe. I’m pretty fucking full.”

Mark just smiled that same shit-eating grin of his and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the clatter of dishes and the sound of him getting silverware out of a drawer. Moments later, he emerged.

“Now, this is the part where I encourage you.”

I took another large gulp of what was now my fourth or sixth mojito. He set down a large crème brulee (it was in a shallow bowl instead of the ramekins that we usually used). It was topped with fresh whipped cream.

“Don’t you think I have a trick or two up my sleeve? I’ve only dreamed about this since I was like… 13?”

He took off his shirt, and stood there in all of his tanned, toned glory. I had no idea how he kept in such shape with the hours he kept with his job. He undid his jeans a few buttons, just enough so I could see an incredibly inviting triangular patch of his briefs. He rubbed his dick through his pants and smirked again.

“Won’t you join me in the bedroom sir?”

“Sir?” I laughed.

“C’mon babe.”

“If I can get up. Man I am full.”

I hoisted myself up and followed him into the bedroom. He laid down on the bed on his side, crème brulee in one hand, and a spoon in the other. I laid down next to him.

“Don’t you just want a taste babe? I made this just for you.”

“I guess I can manage a taste.”

Expectedly, Mark made sure that my taste was a heaping spoonful that was equal parts brulee and whipped cream. The cream tasted like it was laced with some sort of orange liqueur. Just like everything else, the dessert was marvelous.

“Now, I just want you to lay there and let me, uh, reward you for being such a good boyfriend”

Mark kissed me neck very tenderly.

“If you happen to want more of the brulee, well, it’s right here”

He kissed down my front, unbuttoning my shirt as he went. He lingered at my nipples, kissing and nipping at them, creating an expertly blended sensation of pleasure and friction. I moaned. He kissed down my belly very softly, running his hands up and down my sides as he did. My sides were sort of ticklish, so I shuddered a little as his fingertips moved on my skin. I could feel his absolutely rock hard, uncut penis poking into my leg, most with the precum of his excitement.

He moved further down and expertly took my cock in his mouth. I groaned in pleasure.

That night I came four times. Mark came five.




The next morning I woke up, well, it was actually more like the next afternoon. I was hung over and still felt full from the last night’s festivities. Groggily, I slipped on some mesh gym shorts and went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

I caught myself in the mirror and instinctively sucked in my little starter belly. I slowly let my abs relax and my belly bowed out to it’s full size. Although I was far from being fat, I most assuredly had the start of a little belly. I was no where near as big as the pictures of some of the guys in some of Mark’s little gainer folder, but, I for the first time in my life had an actual belly. As I surveyed the new flesh, I couldn’t help but say quietly to myself,

"What have I gotten myself into?"

Work Out

So, as I was on the elliptical, five miles in and bored out of my mind, I started watching Bravo's Work Out on my iPod. I was pleasantly surprised when one of the issues that they tackled in the second season's premier episode was how one of the trainers, the super cute gay trainer to be specific, got fat. Now, getting fat is relative -the trainer, Jesse, qualified that he wasn't fat, he was at worst "gay fat." This is totally true. But it was still hot to see him running around and working out shirtless with his little baby belly. He's not only a trainer, but also a trained chef. haha HOT. I wager that baby belly is here to stay.



He's so sucking in. Download the episode on iTunes. Nothing after the jump.

Growing Up - Chapter V

So boys, here we go -the great deviation... I'm pretty anxious about this chapter, being it's my first foray out of the realm of my personal experience with the ex-boyfriend I've been writing about... What actually happened is a somewhat less romantic and stimulating story, so, I offer you a vision of what might have been. There's more love, more food, and, most importantly, more boyfriend (although the real boyfriend that Evan was based on did continue to expand for as long as we dated... Devious little me, always the encourager). I am sure you guys will enjoy this little view into a sweeter alternate reality.

If anyone had any comments, I'd particularly appreciate them. And thanks to everyone for all the positive feedback I've gotten already.

Read the next chapter of Growing Up after the jump.

Growing Up

By Get A. Snack

Chapter V

Just as quickly as Evan had started on his belly-shrinking fitness kick, he appeared to have ended it. Every high-calorie food that had disappeared from the kitchen was back in full force. Desserts, main courses, foods that after years of dating I had never even known that Evan had liked. The freezer was stocked with a variety of ice cream, the fridge with everything from home-made lasagna to cake. No low-carb, splenda filled anything. With food like this everywhere, I was going to have to start keeping an eye on what I ate if I didn’t want to put on weight.

Evan’s self-consciousness about his weight seemed to just evaporate. He started wearing the clothes that he had deemed himself too fat for again, sometimes even leaving a little crescent of belly hanging out of the bottom. I’d come home and find him passed out on the couch, waiting for me, with an impressive amount of empty food containers littering the table almost every night. I couldn’t tell if he was actually putting on weight or his belly was just kept constantly full by his newfound willingness to indulge, but whether he had gained or not, I knew if he kept eating like this, growth would be inevitable.

“I love croissants” Evan mused as he chewed a flaky croissant that he had been dipping in Nutella. Evan and I were having breakfast in bed. When I say breakfast in bed, I mean, a real, full breakfast: eggs, bacon, sausage, toast slathered in butter, and a host of baked indulgences from i Dolci.

“Well, I love you.” I smiled at him. Evan leaned in so I could kiss him, and I couldn’t help but notice some powdered sugar from an previously consumed doughnut clinging to his stubble. I brushed the sugar off his face, pulled him in close, and kissed him. He tasted like chocolate and hazelnut. Instantly I was hard.

“Well, well, well…” Evan smirked, noting my erection tenting the sheets over my legs. “Look what we have here… He seems to be waking up at the strangest times lately”

Evan grabbed my hardon firmly, took another bite of croissant, and looked me firmly in the eyes.

“Mark, you know I love you. A lot. All of you. Just the way you are. You know that right?”

There was a sweetness and a strange vulnerability in Evan’s eyes that reminded me of the first time I had ever said “I love you” to him. It was the same look that had first pushed me out of my comfort zone to admit that I really cared about him. It was the look that made me sure that he really did care about me for exactly what I was. And as he looked at me I could feel myself being pushed out of my comfort zone once again.

“Look Ev, I gotta fess up about something. There’s stuff about me that I’ve never told you about… Never really told anyone about actually, but, I wanna tell you, I’ve just been scared to, which is dumb but, well, here I am, telling you. I guess the easiest way to say it is…”

I paused as I searched for the right words. Evan smirked at me again.

“You don’t honestly think I don’t already know about you and, your, uh, quirks shall we say, do you?” he asked with a playful incredulity.

“Uh… You know that I like.. um..” I was too embarrassed to form the words.

“Me a little beefier? Or a lot beefier as the case may end up being?” he offered sweetly.

Evan smiled at me and patted his stomach.

“You don’t think this has gotten as far as it has totally by accident, have you? Look at me! I was an athlete not so long ago.”

“But I, uh,” I chuckled “I thought I was pretty good about covering my tracks.. How did you figure me out?”

“You’re not half as slick as you imagine yourself to be babe. It took me a little while, but, you left some pretty obvious clues. I first knew something was up when we moved in here and I started to put on a few. I thought I had you completely figured out. I noticed that you noticed, the change in me as I relaxed about what I ate.. I noticed you staring, grabbing at me differently when we had sex, little things, nothing too big. I thought, ironically, you were bothered by the weight I had gained. Hence my misguided weight-loss kick. I wanted to make sure you stayed attracted to me.”

Evan smiled at me and dusted some croissant out of his stubble.

“So how did you find me out?”
I chuckled nervously. He was talking about it all so matter-of-factly, this huge secret I had kept from everyone. I was shaking a little, like I was cold. I tend to do that when I’m being really intimate with someone about stuff that makes me nervous.

“Aw, babe, you’re shaking, c’mere”

Evan put his empty plate on the night table, wrapped his arms around me, and laid us both down on the bed.

“Baby, it’s okay. It’s really okay. You’re not as much of a weirdo as you think.”

“Yes I am”

“No you’re not”

“How’d you find out? I really am curious”

“Remember the other day, when I came home from my run and found you jerking off?”

My eyes went wide as I realized what I had done. I left files open on the laptop. I closed it but I didn’t log out. The incredible, obsessive me had been so consumed with not being late to that stupid meeting. All the years of sneaking around, of hiding this part of myself, undone by one thoughtless, rushed action.

“I left stuff open. On the laptop. Wow. I’m not slick at all…”

“What do you expect baby? We share the same computer. Once I saw those sites, a whole bunch of other smaller clues made sense to me. The little stuff I had mistaken for judgment was actually just interest.”

“You’re not freaked out?”

“I was a little confused at first. I mean, all this stuff is pretty far outside the conventional conception of what gay guys find sexy. But I poked around on the internet, and through that folder you left open. I can understand the appeal I think. A big, masculine guy, doing what feels good, being relaxed in his own body. I mean, I’ll always lift and keep healthy, but, I can definitely see what’s sexy about a guy who knows how to, indulge I guess. And I can totally see the appeal of turning you on. Since I stopped trying to diet, you’ve been hard almost constantly.”

I blushed and looked away. Evan took my hands and put them on his stomach.

“You approve?” he asked me in a vulnerable and earnest tone.

“Do I ever babe. Do I ever.”

“Well thank God. All of this eating by myself was getting kind of monotonous. Now maybe you won’t feel so self conscious about, oh, what do they call it… Encouraging me?”

Growing Up - Chapter IV

The story continues... The plot (and the boyfriend) continues to thicken. We're starting to diverge a bit from my actual experience, but, nothing too far from autobiography yet. Sit back, get something to snack on, and read the next chapter of Growing Up after the jump.

Growing Up

By Get A. Snack

Chapter IV

For the next week or so, I noticed something was up. Evan didn’t say anything about it, but all manner of gym equipment began to appear around the apartment, just as sure as all manor of junk food disappeared from our cupboards. Although I was disappointed about Evan trying to shrink his belly on one hand, I both wanted him to be happy about his appearance and was sort of relieved that I wasn’t going to have to risk revealing my true feelings about his little belly.

As Evan continued his diet kick, I continued to work as hard as ever at my job. One day, I returned home from work for a little while to change in the middle of the day to change for a more casual meeting with clients. My associate had been riding me hard all morning and Evan was out for a run, so I decided to take a few minutes to relieve a little stress. I sat down at the laptop we shared and began to click through the secret path of folders in which I had hidden my saved gainer stuff. As if it new what was about to come next, my dick began to get a littler harder with each successive click moving me one step closer to whacking off. I undid my belt, unbuttoned my suit pants, and slid them and my briefs down my thighs. As my dick hit against my stomach, I opened one of my favorite sets of pictures. Nothing quite like staring at the hundred plus pound gain of a sandy haired collegiate hunk to really get me going. I set up a slideshow of the progress pics, laid back, and started to enjoy myself.

As the former jockboy started to expand before me, no detail escaped my view. The first signs were subtle, a slight thickening, a sleekness appearing as a new layer of fat began to form over the man’s well developed muscles. Then the belly began to round out, slowly but surely bulging out over his belt. When he reached 200, there were photos of him packed into sinfully tight jeans that highlighted a most perfectly plumping ass and the start of a pair of glorious love handles. Chugging a gainer shake at 215, a softness appeared in his once angular face –his face held on tightly to his good looks, but the softness, the hint of a double chin make the growing jock gainer look positively hungry. Swigging a beer around 230, the guy’s gut had become so prominent that jeans button looked like it might blow at any second. The next shot at just above 240 was my favorite. Stuffing his faced and still crammed into the same jeans that looked like they were on the verge of exploding at 230, the formerly toned jock bad transformed his entire physicality. His muscular chest had softened, his pecs just starting to rest on his rounded belly. His love handles had burgeoned into something you could really hold onto, and his legs were stressing the seams of his poor jeans. I closed my eyes and started to imagine him getting bigger and bigger… Ripping out of the jeans, stretching the elastic tight on his tighty whities… Just getting bigger and fatter and thicker and…

Click

It was the unmistakable sound of Evan’s key in the lock to our front door.

“Shit” I thought to myself. I slammed the laptop shut and stood up quickly. Forgetting that my pants were around my thighs, I stumbled and fell on the couch as Evan walked into the room.

“My my.. Isn’t this a nice surprise. Nothing like finding your boyfriend all revved up and ready to go after a nice, long run”

I smiled at him and nestled myself into to couch.

“I’ve got to get back to work, I just came home because I had to change into something more casual for an out of office meeting with some big clients. I can’t stay long… I was just, uh, stressed.. My boss has been being a jerk and I just have been having the worst day and-“

He put his finger to my lips and sank to his knees. Before I could protest that I had no time for this he took my dick into his mouth and went to work de-stressing me. All of my thoughts faded away as I watched his head bob up and down on my cock. It felt so good I just laid back and let Evan finish what I had started at the computer.

My mind flooded with images of Evan growing. Belly pulling his t-shirt taught. His plumping ass bursting out of his gym shorts. Surveying his gut in the mirror. Trying to suck it in to fit into his old tuxedo. Splitting the ass on last summer’s gym shorts. That excruciatingly hot line where his belly hits his leg. I started to imagine the guy blowing up in the pictures on the computer, but putting Evan in his place. The images flooded in my mind, faster and faster, Evan getting bigger and bigger and bigger until I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. All the muscles in my body tensed, and I put my hand on the back on Evan’s head.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna, I’m gonnaaaauuuh”

I collapsed back onto the couch and laid there for a moment, lost in the bliss of the orgasm.

The moment the post orgasmic endorphins had begun to abate, my eyes fell on the clock.

“Fuck, I’m late. Fuck, fuck fuck, my associate is going to murder me. Fuck”

I quickly stripped out of my suit and grabbed the first polo and shorts I could find in my closet. I slipped on a belt and a pair of boat shoes, kissed Evan, and ran out the door.