Originally published Mar 28, 2018.
Contains: accelerated weight gain, direct encouraging, drunkenness, and sexual scenes. Not recommended for underage readers.
The original inspiration for this story was very simple: a (very NSFW) piece of art by GarthDude, featuring an extremely fat cowboy getting funnel-fed and pleasured, while another guy enjoys his belly. It’s not often that something so simple makes me want to write a story, but in this case, that was all it took.
The result is a story that’s relatively short, gets right to the erotic elements, and blends gaining and more vanilla sexual content. In that way, it’s more like the gaining stories I like to read than the gaining stories I like to write, and in that way, it’s a spiritual follow-up to A Genie’s Wish. Not a sequel by any means, but if you enjoyed that story (and a lot of you did; it’s presently my third-most-favorited story), I think you’ll find a lot to like about this one.
Synopsis: After an all-day business meeting, Hank is just looking for a place to relax before he has to fly back home the next morning. He finds himself in a bar where everyone reacts to him like they’ve never seen a fat guy before. But it soon becomes apparent that their reactions aren’t out of shock, but intrigue, and after several free drinks and entrees, he finds himself the center of a lot of attention.
The streetlights dimly lit Hank’s path as he walked down the sidewalk. An early morning flight and an all-day business meeting had left him mentally exhausted, and the pitiful lunch catering had left him hungry. As big of a guy as hank was, those salads and wraps simply weren’t enough to satisfying the appetite of a man like him. But after a whole day of trying to negotiate deals, he just wanted to comfort of cracking open a cold one at the bar. So he wandered the streets of the unfamiliar city, looking for a bar that looked like it would serve good food too, before he would wander back to his hotel and sleep for the night before heading back the next day.
It was Friday night, and most of the bars were as busy as Hank expected them to be when so many people had nothing to be awake for the next day. The lines out the door told him which ones he should avoid, as did the upscale dress of some folks heading into other bars. Hank was not dressed upscale. He’d packed some comfortable jeans and sneakers for his trip, but had forgotten to pack a comfortable shirt, leaving him walking down the street in just the undershirt he wore under his button-down. And that undershirt barely qualified as a shirt.
For Hank was not a small man, and the shirt he wore that night could barely contain him, even on an empty, growling stomach. He walked down the sidewalk with his back arched and his head held high, less out of pride than out of necessity, as his truck-tire sized belly threatened to pull him forward if he didn’t. Hank’s belly was spherical and protuberant, the kind some called a beer belly, even though he fancied himself a modest drinker. It was more genetics that had lead to him having such a rounded abdomen, one that complimented a muscular frame born from many nights in the gym making sure he was strong enough to carry all his weight around. Meanwhile, his goatee and shaved head gave him the impression a man who was assertive, something he’d had to learn by faking it until he made it, and something he’d exercised a lot that day. That night, he just wanted to relax.
So Hank kept looking for a place to spend the evening, hoping his inch or so of belly hanging out of the bottom of his undershirt wouldn’t get him kicked out for violating the no shirts, no shoes, no service policy. Eventually, past all the most popular bars, he came across an establishment called Chunky’s. In spite of the name, the few guys he saw heading in all seemed to be fairly skinny. But a quick look at the menu, and all the greasy, filling meals available, told Hank he’d found the right spot for him.
But Hank’s confidence was shaken when he walked in and saw a bunch of skinny and muscular guys in well-fitting outfits occupying the place. He felt even less welcome when all the conversations slowly came to a halt as the folks inside turned their heads to look at him. With how wide their eyes were open, he thought, you’d think they’d never seen a fat guy before. But he walked past them, with their open mouths gawking at him and their stubborn stares, and took a seat at the bar with two empty seats beside him. That way, he wouldn’t have to take any of their precious personal space.
“Ain’t seen you here before, stranger,” the bartender remarked as he walked up to Hank. He was another muscular man with a closely shaven beard, the kind the guys at the bar probably went wild for. “Don’t get a lot of new folks in here.”
“Is that why everyone’s staring like they’ve never seen a fat guy before?” Hank asked, having not a care left to be subtle when commenting on his treatment.
But the bartender merely chuckled, “Aw, give ‘em a break. Not all of them are so good with their words.”
“That’s one was to describe it, “ Hank grumbled. “Anyway, yeah, I’m in on business travel. Just here to relax a bit before I head back to my hotel to sleep before flying out tomorrow.”
“So you could use a drink without too much alcohol, to make your way back to the hotel without issue.”
“You know… yeah, I could.”
“How about an Irish coffee? Something to wake you up a bit.”
“Nah, I need to sleep tonight.”
“I have decaf.”
The bartender walked off with a smirk on his face. Looking to his sides, Hank found himself the target of quite a few more stares from the other customers. But that close up, they didn’t seem judgemental. If anything their lowered eyelids, raised eyebrows, and subtle smiles had Hank rethinking his initial impression of the place.
“Here you are,” the bartender said as he handed the surprisingly light-colored drink to Hank, looking more like the bartender’s own pale hue than an Irish coffee. “Paid for already by another customer, so don’t worry about it.”
“Oh,” Hank remarked. He wasn’t used to people buying him drinks in bars, but he’d take it while he could get it. “Why is it so light in color?”
“You wanted it light on the alcohol, so I made it without much whisky. And since even decaf can keep some folks up, so I went light on that too.”
“Heavy cream, of course.”
“Uh… sure, why not,” Hank sighed as he put the drink to his lips. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good. So he kept drinking the anonymous gift as he wondered who around him had paid for the drink.
Soon after, he thought he’d gotten his answer. A young man whose white tank top contrasted with his medium-toned skin and showed off his muscles sauntered on over and sat next to Hank, with a friendly yet determined expression on his face. “Hola,” he greeted.
“You from out of town? Haven’t seen you around here before.” As the man asked, there was a softness in his voice, an inviting quality that was only emphasized as he leaned on the bar, his upper arm lying flat on the bartop as his chin rested in his hand.
“Yeah, visiting on a business trip. ‘Fraid that means I’ll be flying out tomorrow.”
“Aww, that’s a shame. You looking to make your one night in town one to remember?”
Turning around to face the man, Hank raised his eyebrows and asked, “What do you have in mind?” Judging by the man’s devious smile, he wasn’t sure what kind of answer to expect.
Hank definitely was not expecting that answer. “Actually, yes. The size of the lunch at the meeting today was pitiful.”
“Mmm, well we can’t let a man like you go hungry. AJ!” The bartender turned look at the man with expectant eyes. “Can you get my man here an order mac ‘n’ cheese on my tab? Chunky-size it and make it extra cheesy.” With a devious smile to match the other customer’s, AJ gave him a thumbs up and rung in the order.
“Well that’s awfully kind of you,” Hank said, smiling for the first time since he got into the bar that evening.
“Aw, don’t worry about it. I’m Raul.”
“Hank,” Hank returned as the two shook hands, though unlike Hank, Raul let his fingers linger on Hank’s arm as he pulled away, leaving Hank a tad flustered. “I, uh, assume you’re the one who bought me this rather rich Irish coffee too?”
“No, actually,” Raul answered. “What makes it so rich?”
Hank was taken aback by Raul’s answer, but he kept his composure and continued, “Well, I can’t get too drunk, so I can make my way back to the hotel. And I didn’t want too much coffee in here, so I can sleep tonight. So, by necessity, it’s filled with a lot more heavy cream.”
Raul’s eyes opened extra wide as the devious smile returned to his face. “Quite the drink you’ve got there. I’d be happy to buy you another one.”
Yet again, Hank was taken aback by the hospitality of those around him, but he wasn’t going to turn it down when he’d already been offered more free drinks than he had in his entire life before then. With a grin of his own, he picked up the drink and gulped it down, expecting it to be easy to drink with so little whisky. But the heavy cream more than made up for the liquor’s absence, and the drink hit Hank’s stomach like a rock. He swore he could feel his gut bulge outward at the sudden influx of so many calories.
Raul’s reaction only confirmed his suspicion. “Heh, yeah. I’ll happily take you up on that offer now.”
AJ mixed another cream-heavy Irish coffee for Hank, which Hank sipped as he talked with Raul until his mac ‘n’ cheese was ready. By the time the dish came out, Hank had finish the second drink as well, and the rock in his stomach now felt like a boulder. He reached to pull his shirt down, and discovered that it had ridden up all the way above his belly button. That, he mused, might explain why Raul had so much trouble maintaining eye contact. But even sitting down, he couldn’t pull his undershirt all the way over his heavy gut. And when he saw the massive plate of cheesy goodness coming his way, he had a feeling the shirt’s fit would only get worse as the night wore on.
“Mac and cheese for the gentleman from out of town,” AJ announced he put the plate down. It was easily twice as big as any portion of mac ‘n’ cheese that Hank had eaten before, and “drowning” seemed to be the most apt word to describe how much cheese the pasta was drenched in. It looked more appropriate to eat it with a soup spoon than a fork. It also looked irresistibly delicious.
“Man that’s a lot.”
“You don’t think you can finish it?” Raul asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
“I mean, after those two drinks, I’m already pretty full.”
“Mmm, that was a lot of heavy cream you drank,” Raul commended, before Hank felt a hand on his gut, making circles around the top, where the boulder in his stomach had grown. Looking down, he saw that it was Raul’s hand, rubbing his belly tenderly, but with just enough pressure to reach the crammed stomach underneath all his heft. It was an unusual sensation, but Hank couldn’t deny, he kinda liked it.
“Hmm. I guess it couldn’t hurt to eat some of it,” Hank said coyly, picking up his fork and spearing some of the pasta. The cheese looked rich and dense, making fairly lengthy strings between his fork and the plate before they snapped. Licking his lips, Hank took a bite, and was relieved to learn the mac was exactly as delicious as it looked.
“Yeah, eat up, big guy. You’ve got a big appetite to satisfy.”
Raul’s comment gave Hank pause, but only for a moment, and he kept scarfing down the deliciously gooey mess of mac ‘n’ cheese in front of him. Sure, on top of the two cream-heavy drinks he’d already enjoyed, it was getting quite noticeably full right from the beginning. But Raul’s belly rubs turned that fullness into a positive feeling, a satisfying tension rather than a painful one. With each bite he ate, Hank’s felt fuller and fuller, and Raul rubbed a bit harder to make up for it. As full as Hank got, he never got uncomfortably so, still eating the mac ‘n’ cheese because it made Raul’s rubs feel even better, and because it tasted so good.
“Evening Raul,” Hank heard a deep voice say, before turning around to see a trim young man with a close-shaven beard accentuating his sharp facial structure. His deep voice was as velvety and smooth as his dark skin, causing Hank to raise his eyebrows when he saw this second handsome man. “Looks like you’ve got a lot on your hands,” he said, before looking Hank in the eyes and asking, “Any way I could help?” For once, Hank was thankful his skin had a red undertone. Usually it just lead to people asking him if he’d spent too much time in the sun, but that day, it was camouflaging a blush.
“I think I can handle this, Troy,” Raul remarked, sounding just territorial enough to snap Hank out of his trance so he could speak for himself.
“Now, now, boys,” Hank said, putting on his best deep, paternal voice. “There’s plenty of belly to go around. I’m Hank.”
“Troy,” Troy replied. With a giddy smile, Troy took the seat on the other side of Hank and started rubbing his belly. With two hands on his expanding gut, Hank found it even easier to relax and wolf down the mac ‘n’ cheese. All the attention on his belly made any otherwise-painful bloating only more exciting, as the two men worshipped his growing gut. “You must have a big appetite to be eating mac ‘n’ cheese that cheesy,” Troy observed.
“Actually, I ordered that for him,” Raul interjected.
“Hmm, got yourself an admirer,” Troy said as he rubbed Hank’s belly a bit harder. “Not hard to see why, of course.”
“Oh yeah?” Hank asked, the first time he’d spoken since Troy had joined them. “Why so?”
“Well, look at you!” Troy enthused as he took Hank in his grasp with both of his hands, one on his back and one on his belly. Feeling just how far apart the two hands were made Hank realize he’d grown quite a bit since he entered the bar. He was sure his belly had to be hanging out of his undershirt far enough for his belly button to show yet again, and this time, he was sure it wasn’t going back into hiding.
But however big it was, however full he was, he wasn’t too full for more mac ‘n’ cheese. With both men’s hands on him, making his belly feel great, Hank ate his way down to the bottom of the plate, with only a layer of cheese left on the bottom. Leaning back, he let his belly bulge forward into the space in front of him, until it hit the bar. As big as he’d gotten, he felt like it should have been painful. But Raul’s and Troy’s touch seemed to have turned his drunken food coma into some sort of fullness-induced ecstacy. And Hank was convinced that the fuller he got, the better it would feel.
“Hey AJ,” Troy called out. “Let me get a cheeseburger for my friend Hank here. I think he’s still hungry. You’re still hungry, right, Hank?”
As if on cue, Hank let out a massive belch that reverberated across the entire bar, even as he faced forward toward the wall. He swore he could feel the rest of the eyes in the bar on him, but for once, he didn’t feel like they were looking at him judgingly. “Yup,” he confirmed. “Medium-well, all the toppings, extra cheese, please,” he mumbled, barely able to hold his head up in his state of stuffed bliss, let alone talk.
“We better turn you around, big guy,” Raul said. “This bartop is cramping your style.”
“Yeah,” Troy agreed before he lended his strength to spin Hank around. “We need to give that gut some room to breathe.”
“Aw, you guys,” Hank said, before leaning back against the bar. As he did, his bulbous gut jutted out even more pronouncedly in front of him, giving Troy and AJ even more to play with. “But how am I going to eat like this?”
“Don’t you worry about that, big guy. You just sit here and relax,” Troy assured him, rubbing Hank with both of his hands. At least, he thought Troy was using both of his hands. It could have been another guy’s hand on his belly. But Hank preferred to just let his head hang back and enjoy the attention, and the sensation of all those hands on his bloated belly. All three or four hands enjoying his heft and making him feel good. Or was it five?
“Cheeseburger!” AJ called out, prompting Hank to bring his head forward. Opening his eyes as wide as he could, he made out five guys standing around him, all of whom seemed to be rubbing his belly. But he was okay with the attention, even as he felt their palms and fingers on his bare belly, a sign that someone had lifted his shirt to show off his gut to the entire bar, and give all those guys access. What worried him was how he was going to eat that cheeseburger facing away from the bartop.
But when he felt something bready shoved into his open mouth, he got his answer. Taking a bite, he found himself chewing on the cheeseburger, which he was delighted to discover was delicious. In his belly rub, food coma, and alcohol induced stupor, all he could do was chew the food that was put in his mouth and enjoy all the attention going to his belly. The constant barrage of positive attention made it impossible for him to focus on things like how full he was, or exactly where those touches were going once some started gravitating below his belly. Sure, he felt some guys rubbing on his crotch. But he also felt certain the bartender would stop them before they took his dick out. That had to be illegal.
In the meantime, he enjoyed being fed the cheeseburger, wolfing down mouthful after mouthful as everyone’s grabby hands rubbed his belly, as if rewarding him for eating as much as he had. He enjoyed it so much that he barely noticed when the cheeseburger became a BLT, interspersed with some occasional bites of chicken tenders. It seemed other guys had ordered food to feed Hank, or maybe Raul and Troy were having a competition to see who could feed him more. Either way, everything the pub cooked was better than Hank expected, so he wolfed the food down diligently as the guys around him kept feeding him.
Individual dishes started to blend together the more the guys fed Hank. With so many hands rubbing his belly, his chest, even his arms and thighs, and a few making their way between his legs to tease him there, he could barely spare a thought to anything other than pure bliss, never mind differentiating between dishes. What was the point when they were all delicious, and all being fed to him without him having to raise a finger? He could just sit back, recline against the bar, and let all the food and attention he could ever want come to him.
Hank only became aware again when he realized that the sensation of all those hands on him was covering a bigger area than he thought his belly was. Slowly coming back to with a mouthful of mozzarella sticks, Hank saw at least a dozen-and-a-half distinct guys around him, massaging him or queuing up to feed him food, with about three dozen more either watching or fighting for a spot. He counted at least half a dozen guys who had food in their hands, ready to feed the gluttonous center of attention when they got the chance.
After looking around him and feeling his cheeks bulging with fried cheese, Hank looked down and was dumbfounded by what he saw. Of course, his belly was hanging out of his shirt, which had bunched up around his chest and was even fitting tightly there. But it had bunched up there not just because the guys had pushed it up, but because there was no way it was going to go around his mammoth belly now.
For Hank’s gut had grown to a size he didn’t think was possible for a man. His once-truck-tire-sized paunch had been replaced by a belly that looked like two trash bags had been inflated and put where his belly once was. But it was all him. His belly must have been at least 100 inches around. It had to at least a yard wide, and stuck out a good two feet from his back. It was also rotund, nearly as tall as it was wide, a giant ball of fat that had been put on him over the night. If there weren’t already several guys rubbing his arms, he would have tried to reach around it, but he wouldn’t have been able to reach the bottom of his gut. He was now a walking vessel for a mountain of fat; that is, if he was able to walk at all.
The shock of seeing his new form seemed to knock Hank back into his food coma, whisky, and belly/crotch rub induced stupor. For after he realized how big he’d become, he lost all sense of just how many guys were pleasuring him, or how big he was, or what was being pushed in his mouth. All he knew was he had to eat those mozzarella sticks so he could keep eating all the food that remained to feed him.
Hank wasn’t sure how much longer he lay back and ate, but eventually, he heard a voice say, “Come on, let’s move this guy to a table. No, the pool table. You know those dining tables won’t be able to hold him.”
Before he knew what was happening, Hank felt two sets of shoulders under his arms, and heard a whole lot of grunting before he was pushed off of his bar stool. His legs instinctively shot forward to keep himself from falling as they leaned him forward, guiding him out into the pub. Meanwhile, he heard a voice at the bar asking, something about a funnel, chocolate syrup, and… cream?
Hank could barely parse it out with all the hubbub following him as he was moved through the bar, before being backed up against a table of some sort. There, he was leaned back, until he landed with a thud and his arms splayed out to the side. He briefly became aware of just how tall his belly towered above him, before the loving hands of a dozen or more guys brought him back down to his state of just enjoying what was happening.
Hank expected food to come into his mouth next, and thus was surprised when he bit down on his next entrée, only to find his teeth bounce back without making a dent. “Oh no, no more eating for you tubbs,” he heard a voice say. “You chug now.”
Hank managed to figure out that the object in his mouth was a rubber tube, just before a stream of some sort of chocolatey drink flooded his mouth. It filled the space up fast, his cheeks puffing out to contain the deluge, until the pressure building up in the tube above him nearly forced it down his esophagus. Of course, as delicious as it was, he was happy to gulp down however much was poured into him. Not only was it chocolatey, but rich too, not unlike the Irish coffees he’d enjoyed before. It briefly occurred to him that he might have been drinking pure heavy cream, but as delicious as it was, he didn’t care much about what went into it..
The deluge of the chocolate mixture came in waves. Hank would finish most of what was poured into the funnel, feeling the pressure mercifully lessen, before he heard a pouring sound and the pressure increased. At that, his upper body twitched a bit, and he groaned at how quickly he had to gulp the mixture down. But he drank it all dutifully, caring little for what it was, as long as it kept the hands on him and his massive belly.
Hank wasn’t pulled from his stupor until he started to feel his pants growing tight around his legs. Someone had already mercifully undone his belt and fly, giving his belly more room to grow. But even that seemed limited, and he could feel the bottom of his swelling belly dig into the sides of the zipper, before the zipper itself its own dent. But the pressure was soon relieved all at once, leaving Hank confused until he felt the back of his legs against the smooth wood of the pool table rather than the denim of his pants. His pants were off, something he was sure had to be against bar policy.
But no one came to stop the proceedings. The bartender hanged back as he was stripped down to his briefs and the undershirt that now fit like a comically short tank top. He didn’t intervene as Hank was filled with chocolatey cream again, or as he could feel someone’s touch against his junk. He didn’t seem to see anything wrong with the raging hard-on that Hank was sporting and how obviously it stuck out from beneath his underwear.
“Hmm, you are a big boy,” he heard one of the guys say, before he felt his dick freed from the confines of his underwear. It should have been a relief, as his prick pointed out and upward into the open air. But the sensation of a pair of lips around it surprised him just enough to pull him out of his stupor.
Looking up, Hank did indeed see a rubber tube extending from his mouth to a funnel, which several of the guys were taking turns pouring cartons into. Catching a glimpse of one of the cartons, he saw the words “heavy cream”, before it was tipped upside down and all of the drink rushed to join the rest in his turgid stomach. Gulping it down as fast as he could, he looked from the funnel to his belly, and nearly spit out his drink at what he saw.
Hank’s massive ball of fat had grown huge enough to reach shoulder height of the guys around him, with a couple of the guys resting their arms on his belly as they rubbed it with the other one. It was about half as tall as he was, stretched into a massive globe by the sheer volume of food and drink, especially drink, that had been stuffed inside. But no matter how taut it was stretched, a belly that gigantic could not resist gravity’s pull, and sunk down enough to cover nearly the entire width of the pool table. With his brief moment of clarity, Hank tried to move from the spot, but it was no use. His massive girth had him pinned down.
Hank had been so shocked by the sight of his colossal belly that he’d forgotten all about the mouth that now enveloped his rock-hard dick. With his belly in the way, blocking his view of anything happening beyond his beltline, all he had to go on was feeling. And the feeling of a man’s soft lips and expert tongue on his member was all it took to sink him back into his pleasure-induced stupor.
With so many guys rubbing his gut as it filled with more and more of the heavy cream, Hank almost didn’t pay much mind to the particular guy pleasing his junk, until he started working the shaft with his hands too. His gentle touch was enough to take the whole experience from good to great, causing Hank to start convulsing under the weight of his gigantic belly. He couldn’t do much but arch his back and twitch his arms, with the cream leaving him too full to move his legs much. He also had a hard time swallowing the cartonfuls of heavy cream he was still being piped full of when the shocks of pleasure from his pelvis were interrupting his swallowing.
But Hank seemed to catch a break at the most merciful of times. Just as he swallowed what remained of the heavy cream in his mouth, he let out a long groan, of pain from his stretched out gut and pleasure from what was happening in its shadow. At that, he heard AJ yell, “Well, you lot have done it. You’ve run me out of heavy cream. There’s none left.”
Sighs and grumblings of disappointment surrounded Hank, but he just felt relieved that he could enjoy the attention he was getting from the other side of his belly. He languidly reached out toward the sides of the pool table and held on, gripping tighter as the man between his thighs sucked harder.
“What do you mean you’re out of heavy cream? You know what kind of bar you’re running. How can you run out?”
“Are you aware of just how much you poured into the poor guy? Or how much it’s going to cost you all?”
Grumbles once again emanated from the crowd, but it seemed whoever was working Hank’s dick wasn’t bothered, as his tongue slid around Hank’s length while his hands still worked Hanks shaft and balls. With the chocolatey heavy cream mixture dribbling from the corners of his mouth, all over his cheeks, and onto the pool table, Hank groaned louder and louder as the man worked faster and faster. Though his belly pinned him down, it still quaked and wobbled, partly from the vibrations of the man’s work, but mostly from Hank writhing beneath it as he enjoyed all the attention.
It almost didn’t seem like resolution would be possible, with so much of blood going to Hanks’s stomach to digest his massive feast. But it seemed he could spare just enough to ensure he wouldn’t be the only one with a full mouth that night. With his moans growing louder and louder, Hank braced for climax, gripping the pool table so tightly he thought he might leave dents. After one final silence, Hank’s groans became loud enough to reverberate across the entire bar, as he finally experienced release.
If his hips hadn’t been pinned down by his mountainous belly, he would have sent his pleasurer flying back and sprayed his pleasure across the bar floor. But the mysterious man on the other side of his belly held on and kept Hank in his mouth until he was done, containing Hank’s climax in his cheeks. Where it went from there was of little concern to Hank, as he fell back against the pool table, panting and sweating and spent. He wasn’t going anywhere for the time being…
The incessant beeping of Hank’s 5:30 alarm stirred him from his slumber as he sat up with a groan. He reached over to turn the infernal device off, rubbing his eyelids before he opened his eyes to look at the hotel room around him. It looked so unfamiliar, a spot he got to spend so little time in before he had to fly back home, on an early flight. All the folks who told him they were jealous of how much he got to travel for business only made him groan louder on a morning like that.
Hank tossed the blankets off of himself and walked to the bathroom in only his underwear. With no one around to see him, he didn’t care about his truck-tire-sized gut hanging out in the open. After turning on the lights, Hank stepped inside the bathroom and took a look at himself in the mirror.
It was then that Hank saw the brown stains of chocolate syrup on his greying goatee. The crusted remains of the dried stream of chocolatey heavy cream dribbling down his cheek gave him even more pause. Soon after, he became acutely aware of just how sore his stomach was.
Hank remembered the night before, but it didn’t seem possible. Only in a dream could he grow that big without bursting, or get away with getting a blowjob in the middle of a bar. How the chocolatey residue had been left on his cheek, he couldn’t explain, but he was sure there was a good explanation. After shaking his head side to side, he hopped in the shower to clean himself up and get ready for his flight home.
Once he was clean and dry, Hank heading back into the hotel room to get dressed. However, he was a bit distressed to discover that he couldn’t button his pants, as the bottom of his belly was too wide for them to wrap around. That he could get around with a belt, but more concerning was his once-loose button down shirt that was now so tight that the hems billowed out, showing off the undershirt underneath. And even that undershirt couldn’t cover his entire belly, lifting up every time he tried to pull it down until a good three or four inches of gut was hanging out.
It didn’t make any sense to Hank, until he happened to look at the desk in the room and spotted a note
Hank, We wanted to make sure you got to your hotel safely. Unfortunately, this means a lot of folks around here will remember you as the guy who walked the downtown streets late at night with a bed sheet wrapped around you like a toga. We did what we could. Thanks for an amazing night. Chunky’s will never forget it. -Raul and Troy
Hank put the note down, still having a hard time believing it was all true. He then picked it up and stashed it in his business binder to keep it safe on the trip home. It seemed it would be the only souvenier he got of his most memorable business trip so far, that and the few extra pounds he now carried on his midsection.