My Favorite Client

[iLikeBig]

Okay, here goes my first attempt at a story! I did my best to edit it down to PG; I hope you enjoy!

I don't want you to simply judge me because of my size. I want to tell you about me. I haven’t always been this fat. In high school I was actually a varsity athlete. I was on the wrestling team. At 5’6” and 175 lbs of muscle, I was a formidable opponent. I even wrestled my first year of college. I had a lot of promise. Well, I did, until I got into a motorcycle accident the summer after freshman year. I wasn’t hurt badly, but I broke my left leg in multiple places. I was on crutches for months. The worst part, however, was that my doctor said I would be no longer able to wrestle. If I did, there was a good chance my bones would fracture again.

All my life I’d been a big eater, but up to that point I’d always been very active so the weight wasn’t a problem. While the cast was on, however, I wound up putting on about 25 lbs. I wasn’t worried about it, I was sure I’d take it off once I could walk normally. Actually, I did. But it was work. It felt like all I did was eat lettuce and ride the exercise bike.

Once I got back to 175, I didn’t stay there long. I still worked out and I tried to be careful with my food, but the pounds crept back. By the time I graduated, I was probably around 215. I was a stocky little guy for sure, but I was still quite muscular so I carried it well. I had no trouble meeting men at this size. My well developed chest and arms were enough to get me most men, even the type who stated "no fats" in their personal ads.

After graduation I had very little trouble getting my first job. I landed a great job at one of the big accounting firms. I loved my job, the only downside was the long hours we were expected to maintain; 60 hour weeks were not uncommon. This is where I really started to pack on the pounds. I couldn’t go to the gym as much and I definitely didn’t have time to cook. I wound up eating take out almost every night. Pizza, Chinese, Mexican, Italian, you name it; I had all the menus in one of my kitchen drawers. By the time I was let go from that job three years later, I was just over 300. I knew I was fired because of my weight, but I decided to look on the bright side of things. I would take a few months off, loose the weight, and then look for a new job.

Six months later I had only lost around 10 pounds. “Don’t be discouraged,” I thought to myself, at least it’s going the right way.

I knew I had to get a job soon, so I went to the big and tall store for a new interview suit. While there, I saw a sign in the window stating “Help Wanted – Part Time”. I laughed to myself, “I hope I never need to work here.”

I think I jinxed myself. For the next three months I searched and searched for a new accounting job. Nothing. The only thing that I had accomplished was that I confirmed I overeat when I’m nervous. I put on all of the weight I had lost and then some. Yep, was now around 315 and I had outgrown the suit. So, once again I was off to the big and tall store. The sign was still in the window. While picking out a larger suit, I asked the manager about the job.

“Yeah, it’s still open. We need someone for about 20 hours a week.”

With my rapidly dwindling bank account emblazoned in my mind, I said “I’d like to apply for the position.”

Although he was reluctant to hire someone who was actively seeking another job, he hired me. The job turned out to be pretty good. The money wasn’t great, but I got a 50% discount on all clothes. I discovered that I had a knack for sales and at least for this job, my weight was an asset. Fat guys seemed more comfortable shopping from a fellow fat guy. The only part of the job that I disliked was the rule that I had to wear my pants over my gut. Ever since I stated getting fat, I’ve preferred to wear my pants under my belly and let my gut be free. I just found it more comfortable and, subconsciously, I think I found a turn on when people stared at it.

The job at the fat man’s store had another perk. Almost every week a chaser would come into the store. The story was almost always the same. He’d say he needed to buy a gift for an uncle and could I help him. After chatting me up for a while trying to get a read on me, he would almost invariably say that he’s not usually attracted to big guys, but he found me extremely attractive. You can use your imagination to figure out the rest.

This was, however, not enough to base a career on. I still looked for the accounting job. I did a fair amount of temp work, but I was never was able to snag a full time gig. After 12 months of working at the store, I was offered a full time job. As I had no other prospects, I accepted. It turns out I worked there for almost four more years.

During my almost four year stint there my weight continued to creep up. To put it mildly, my eating habits didn’t improve and getting well over 300 lbs to the gym wasn’t happening. I was the master of self-denial. I had an excuse for every pound: “It’s just water weight”, “Well, it is the holidays after all”, “I’ll loose it next summer”, “I carry it well”. Actually, I had no idea how big I was getting. My scale only went to 320 and I saw no reason to get a scale that could register more. I’d be back below 320 before I knew it.

In all honesty, there was some truth to the statement that I carried it well. To start with, I was always a handsome man and my face hasn’t gotten too much rounder. I have a beautiful head of hair. What I don’t carry in my prodigious belly is firm and well distributed throughout my body. I’m what you would call “well proportioned”.

[iLikeBig]

Well I didn't get any comments on my first part of this story, but I guess that's the risk I take. Still, I enjoy writing it, so here's the next installment.

Back to my weight… The only real way I could track my weight was by the size of my clothes. But, what’s another “X” in the size anyway? The only time I would even casually think about it was when my work pants would get snug. I always made the same excuse, "I get 50% off, so I might as well buy the larger size. But, I won't need it for long. I'm sure that my new diet will do the trick." This, by the way, also worked for dress shirts.

What size was I anyway? I rarely knew. I would purposely forget my waist size after every new purchase. Towards then end of my time at the store, I took off a pair of particularly snug pants and looked at the tag. The pants were a 64”. That meant the next step was to a 66” waist. This was a bit shocking for a two reasons. First, I now had a waist that was the same as my height. Second, I was now wearing the largest size pants sold at the store! I didn't even bother trying on different shirts, I simply went to the stock room and grabbed the largest size available, 6X. Thankfully, I was able to rationalize the 66” pants and 6X shirts within a day or two. I focused on the fact that the 6X shirt was way larger that I need, I just like my clothes loose fitting. I overlooked the fact that 66" pants were snug when I was trying them on.

Later that week I was eating my dinner. I was having two sausage and pepperoni pizzas, if you must know. Look, my favorite pizza delivery was having a two-for-one-sale, what could I do? About halfway through the first pie, I get a call. It was from the temp agency that I had been working for four years ago.

It turns out a client of theirs needed an accounting temp for about 15 hours per week. I could do the work at any hours I wanted. The thought of being a professional again made me very happy and I accepted.

My next day off I reported to my new temp assignment. I wore those new pants and shirt and the best tie I had. The secretary did a double take when I made my way through door. I was used to that by now and without flinching I introduced myself and said I was the new temp.

She escorted me to the conference room and said, “Dave will be here soon.”

I paced nervously, afraid of breaking the antique chairs, all the while patting at my forehead with a handkerchief and hoping that I wasn’t sweating through my shirt.

After a minute or two a still very handsome older man walked in.

“I’m Dave. Have a seat. Don't worry about the chairs, they're reproductions and much stronger than they look. Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Please forgive me. Sometimes my mouth moves much faster than my brain.”

You would think that I would be offended by his forward nature, but instead I was transfixed. He had the most beautiful blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. Surprisingly, however, he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Over the course of the next 15 minutes he explained what his company does (wealth management), the size (six people total), what he needed me to do (clean up the mess left by the last accountant), and the dress code.

“We’re very casual here. Very. As long as you don’t come in naked, you’re fine. I believe that people are more productive when they’re comfortable.”

That was music to my ears. At my current size, dress clothes were not the most comfortable things to wear. I much preferred elastic or draw-string pants worn under my belly and a super large polo shirt left untucked.

He then showed me to my office and I got started. Everything was great except for one thing: The chair had arms. It’s been years since I could easily get into a chair like that. Still, I didn’t want to complain and I wedged myself in. Sensing my predicament, he patted me on the belly and said, “Hey big guy, no worries, I’ll have those arms removed for your second day.”

I was secretly thrilled. Finally, an employer who didn’t mind my size! Maybe this could turn into a permanent position. For the next month I worked my ass off. Even though I was just getting paid for the agreed 15 hours per week, I worked two 12 hour days almost every week. I really wanted to make a good impression.

After the month was over, Dave called me in his office. My heart sank, I had been through this many times before. I would be thanked for my hard work, but told that they didn’t need me full time.

“Greg, I really have to say I’m thrilled with your work. I can’t believe how quickly you’re cleaning up the mess. Would you consider working for us full time?” I was so stunned, I asked him to repeat himself.

Of course, I told him yes. I also told him how surprised I was that he offered me the job. He asked me why.

“Well, frankly, it’s because of this,” I said as I patted my belly. Most companies don’t want employees as big as me."

He explained that he had an uncle who was big like me. Because of that, he had no problem with my size.

As you can guess, I accepted. The next day I gave my notice at the store. As part of the new job, I would finally get health benefits. But, I would need to first have a physical. The thought of that made me reconsider taking the job.

The day at the doctor’s office was I was definitely nervous when it came time to get on the scale.

“How high does this go?” I jokingly asked the doctor, trying to hide my shame.

“Five hundred.”

In a jovial voice I replied, “Well, I think I should be okay.”

“Greg, you shouldn’t be laughing about your weight. Frankly I’m surprised how healthy you are, but we have to come up with a plan to help you shed the pounds. Now let’s get on the scale.”

I got on and looked at the digital readout attached to the wall: 395.

"Okay doc, you can get off now."

[swimmersdr]

i liked it VERY much. thank you for this =)

[AceAttorney]

So far so good. Can't wait to see more!

[GrowingFoxy]

hope you do more soon ^^ i really like this story :)

[iLikeBig]

Thanks for the kind words, it really is nice to read them. Anyway, here's Part III.

Secretly I had been thinking that I was over 400, so this was a relief to me. To celebrate the fact that I was “only” 395, I went to my favorite buffet restaurant for dinner that night. (Yes, I overeat when I’m happy too.) I never had to wear a suit again; my belly would now happily hang over my pants seven days a week!

The next three years at the job were great. I loved what I did and I worked with great people. For the first time in years, I really thought I had my weight under control.

If I wasn’t deluding myself I would have known this wasn’t the case. I was eating more than ever. Oh well, I guess this is as a good a time as any to tell you about my typical day.

My daily regime started at 6:00 AM with me waking up, cleaning up after the previous night’s feast (more on that in a bit), waddling into the kitchen and packing my food for the day. This more or less this consisted of as many sandwiches as you could make from a loaf of whole wheat bread. (Why whole wheat? Less calories of course.) Generally these would be some sort of deli meat with cheese and mayonnaise. Then there was a bag of chips (whatever was on sale) and a big (actually very big) bag of chewy chocolate chip cookies. I would also put in a few pieces of fruit, a block of cheddar cheese, and a can of diet soda. Yes fruit. Yes diet. Once on my way to work, I would stop at the Dunkin Donuts drive thru and get three or four donuts, but never ever more than six except on special occasions when I would get a dozen.

Why only 12 ounces of soda with all of that food? Because the more I drink, the more I have to pee and waddling my ample body to the bathroom requires a sizeable effort and once there, using a toilet is more work than you can image. (My belly has ensured that urinals are out of the question.) Without going into too much detail, I have to remove my pants and underwear (which means off come my shoes) to sit on the toilet.

I would keep all of this food in a gym bag next to my desk and eat from it during the day. I guess I though no one would be able to tell how much I was eating if only took out a little bit at a time.

Once I left work around 7:00 PM (I am truly a hard worker), I would again head for one of the many drive thru restaurants. Pizza Hut, Burger King, Taco Bell, my town has them all. My personal favorite is the Variety Bucket from KFC. I would then get home, strip off my clothes, arrange my food and a few two-liter bottles of soda on the table next to my favorite recliner and work my way through the pile of food. If I didn’t fall asleep in the chair, I would go back to the kitchen and have a container of ice cream.

I could go into more detail about my average day, but you get the idea. Back to my delusions…

I should have noticed that the 5X polos that were “super large” three years ago were now just a distant memory. Even the next size up, 6X, was now starting to get hard to pull around my mid section. I should have paid more attention to the fact that I had to shuffle through doorways sideways. I should have thought of it as a warning sign that my stomach was now best friends with my steering wheel. If I had been able to see myself walking (I mean waddle) I would have seen that even my upper back giggled when I walked.

The first time I "realized" I might be getting too big was the day Dave told me that I would have to personally deliver a new business proposal. I always did most of the work on these proposals, but Dave always brought them to prospective clients. It was the rare occasion that he'd wear a suit. He told me that he had to go out of town the next day and he really needed me to drop off the proposal, he said I knew it better than anyone else. So what's the problem, you ask? He said that he needed me to dress up a bit, wear a pair of pants like I wore to the interview. Unfortunately, I hadn't worn those pants since the interview. I knew they would not fit and at my size, the only stores that I could shop at were on-line.

When I got home that evening, I pulled the pants out of the closet and tried them on. Not even close. If I pulled them as high as the used to go, there were a good 10 inches between the button and the hole and my love handles were spilling over. Yep, my waist was probably 76", far exceeding my height. But, if I wore them lower - much lower - and was willing to have them cinch my belly and love handles like a corset, I was able button them. I tried sitting down in them and quickly discovered that was not a good idea. I could feel the waistband rip into me; I knew the button and zipper wouldn't hold on much longer. If I had to guess, I was probably well past 500.

After the pants, it was time to be humiliated by my dress shirt. Amazingly, it buttoned, but just barely, and only if I sucked in my gut. Because I'm a short guy, it was long enough. So, if I sucked in my gut, arranged my pants just so, and didn't sit down I was (barely) able to cover my ample body. I looked like a bratwurst in a poly-cotton casing. If there was anything positive, it was that my neck hadn't gotten fatter; I was able to button the top button. This mean I could wear a tie, even if it there was at least a foot between the bottom of the tie and my pants. I really didn't want to disappoint Dave, so I figured it would have to do.

The next morning I got on the road early, it was a two hour drive to this prospective new client. I left the pants unzipped and the shirt was only buttoned at the top. I figured I would put it all together when I got there. Thankfully the drive was uneventful and I found the house easily. What a house it was, more of an old country estate. My eyes scanned the front yard. Great, there was a private place where I could get my act together. Not so great was the fact that the front door was up a big flight of stairs and it was definitely a hot day.

As fast as I could I assembled myself, grabbed the proposal and went to climb Mount Everest. The first two or three steps were fine, put after that they got progressively harder. By the time I got near the top, I was taking a break to catch my breath after every step. As you can guess, when I reached the top of the stairs I was sweating all over. I could also feel that my shirt had become untucked and my pants were drooping, exposing a fair amount of my pendulous gut. I started to suck it in and tried to get everything back in place. But before I could finish, the front door opened.

If I wasn't so busy sweating, you would have been able to see that I was now blushing with embarrassment.

"You must be Greg, Dave told me you were coming. I'm Elliot," said the beautiful man now facing me. He did a quick double take when he first saw me, but he was kind enough not to stare.

He had to be at least 6'-2" with a defined, swimmer’s build, maybe a few years older than me. The hair on his head was trimmed to a buzz cut; the hair on his chest was equally cropped. Yes, I was able to see his chest because he was only wearing a pair of gym shorts. I was immediately drawn to this beautiful man but who was I kidding? There was no way he would feel the same for me, especially in my current sweaty state.

"Sorry about what I'm wearing, I wasn't expecting you for a while and I was swimming when I heard you pull up."

I could barely contain my laughter as I thought, "You're sorry? Who's the one who's too big for clothing?"

I then extended my right arm for a handshake and handed him the proposal that I was holding with my left hand.

"Well, here's the proposal. If you have any questions, please call Dave on his cell phone, it's listed on the inside cover."

[tubby255]

Great story so far! I'm looking forward to the rest :)

[eckgor]

Man! Are you good!

[Fat boy]

Great story dude!!

[iLikeBig]

Thanks for all of the kind words. Here's the next installment:

"Don't rush off, come in for a minute, I'd like to review the proposal with you first."

I never planned for this. I couldn't sit down in these clothes and my rotund legs couldn't support my size for more than a few more minutes! What would I do?

Not wanting to mess this up, I followed him in, trying to make myself presentable. Thankfully, the front door was oversized, at least four feet wide, so I was able to walk in without making a scene.

To put it simply, the house was like one you would see in fancy magazines.

"Your home is beautiful."

"Thanks, I inherited it when my parents died."

He led me to a room that overlooked the pool and motioned for me to sit on the couch. I immediately prayed that my waistband button would hold, I also prayed that the couch would hold. I sucked in as best I could and sat down. The couch was very deep and I wound up being somewhat reclined. This actually made my pants less uncomfortable. For the moment everything held.

He could see that I was still sweating and he said, "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"A glass of water would be nice."

After he returned we began to discuss the proposal. I knew it back and forth. I was a hard worker and Dave appreciated it. He even jokingly called me his right hand "men". I could see Elliot was impressed with my knowledge. The more we discussed it, the more I relaxed. I began to forget about my clothing issues. Everything was going fine until I tried to lean forward to point out some options on a bar chart.

Let's just say that the late Chris Farley couldn't have done it better.

As soon as I leaned forward I heard the seam in the seat of the pants rip and not just a little bit. I quickly turned to see what had happened. This movement made three of the buttons on my shirt pop and it caused a tear up the entire seam in the left arm of the shirt. At that point I accidentally stopped sucking in and the button on my pants flew off which in turn put more pressure on the zipper which promptly ripped apart.

I was completely embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, I better go now." I said as I futilely struggled to lift myself up.

Before I could up, Elliot patted my now exposed belly and said, "No worries, you should be proud of that fine belly. Hundreds of years ago, your size was considered a sign of wealth. Anyway, we're not done reviewing the proposal."

I couldn't say no, honestly I couldn't even get off the couch.

"Well, I do have a change of clothes in the car," I offered. I always traveled with two or three changes of clothes and lots of socks and underwear. I sweat a lot and I've spilled enough food on myself to always travel prepared.

"Great, give me your keys, I'll grab the clothes while you get out of the remains of yours," he said smiling.

After turning to the side and using the couch's arm for support, I was able to hoist myself to a standing position. As vain as ever, I tried to neaten myself. As if anything could lessen the sad condition of my shirt and pants.

Within a minute he was back with my bag in hand.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"Yes, thanks, now if you could point me to a bathroom, I'll get changed."

"Just get changed here, I promise I won't look."

As he went to leave the room I could have sworn that he looked back at me at least two times. But, I was too concerned about getting out of my clothes to think about it much. Thankfully I had packed one of my new 7X shirts (which easily covered my girth) and my comfortable 7X elastic waist shorts (which happily found their place under my huge belly). He waited a good long time to return to the room.

"Well, don't you look more comfortable?"

I was, and I did my best to forget what had happened earlier. For the next hour we carefully reviewed the proposal. When we were done he reached over, rubbed my belly and said, "After all of that hard work, I think we deserve a swim."

"Oh, I couldn't. Anyway, I didn't pack a bathing suit and I doubt you have one my size."

"You'd be surprised, but why don’t you just swim in your shorts?"

"Are you sure," I responded quizzically as I patted my belly.

"Absolutely. Anyway I think I've already seen a fair amount of you." With that he lifted my shirt to grab another peak.

Having done that he leaned over and helped to get me off the couch. I think he was surprised how much effort it took to raise me. He then proceeded to pull off my shirt. The touch of his hands sent shivers up and down my body. This was one of the few times that my drooping belly came in handy, if you get my drift.

"Come on, don't be modest," he said as he grabbed the bottom of my shirt and started pulling it over my head.

[gear134]

I'm loving the story. Can't wait for the next installment!

[iLikeBig]

The saga continues...

He then led me outside. Even sideways, I couldn't make it through the French door. He tried not to laugh and he opened up the opposite leaf, allowing me to pass. The site of his firm and muscular back was something I will never forget.

"Hey Elliot, do you think I could use the bathroom first?"

He turned to face me and I could see that he was having the similar "shivers" that I had. I'm guessing he thought he was just going to jump in the pool and I wouldn't have noticed.

He grabbed my extremely ample love handles and said, "Oh Greg, what kind of host am I? I should have asked you. Let's use the bathroom in the master suite; it's newer and much much larger. The toilet's also newer and stronger than the others. The other bathrooms are original to the house and you'd have trouble maneuvering yourself, that's if you could get all of this through one of the older doors. Don't worry, it's on this floor, I saw what happened last time you tried stairs."

He continued, "not that's there's anything wrong with being a big guy."

"Not as big as you," I boldly interjected.

He looked down and blushed.

"No, fatso, I meant your weight."

Wow, he was getting more forward about pointing out my size. I didn't care. He could have said anything he wanted at this point. It took all of my reserve not to jump on him.

"I know what you meant. Don't worry; I know I'm fat, somewhere north of 500 pounds by now."

"Impressive."

We got to the bathroom; he stood by the door and pointed towards it. I had to go for it. As I walked past him I acted like I lost my balanced and let my belly brush against him. He breathed deeply, but he didn't pull back. I was about to say, "Sorry about that" when he pulled closer and kissed me. We stood there for a long time. I was in heaven except for my poor legs. I rocked from side to side, trying to give each leg a little break. I didn't want to miss a single kiss, but I would have been much happier kissing him while sitting.

After a few minutes he noticed that I was straining to keep standing.

"We better get you seated, Mr. 500." He then walked me backwards to a couch and pushed me down. Even though it wasn't that far down, I wasn't sure the couch would withstand my falling on it. Trust me, I'm a pro at ripping clothes and breaking furniture, but how much embarrassment could I take today? Thankfully the couch only creaked and moaned; it was able to hold me. My ponderous legs were spread to the side with my enormous belly hanging in the middle. I rested my stubby fat fingers on the top of my gut and struggled to catch my breath.

He leaned over and rested his hands on my shoulders. He then just stared at me and smiled. Well, he did that just for a few seconds before the couch gave way and crashed to the floor.

"What out fatty, you have to be more careful," I said jokingly. I was now basically seated on the floor. It would be almost impossible to lift myself from this position.

"You are one of the most handsome men I've ever seen," he announced.

Even though I've been with more than my share of chasers, I'm still amazed when I hear something like that.

"But, as handsome as you are, I think you'd be more comfortable if I got you off of the floor." He was right, sitting on the floor wasn't great, but being able to look up at him made up for any discomfort. If my upper arms weren't so freaking enormous, I might have been able to reach up and feel his strong arms.

"That's a great idea, but first, I don't think I can get up."

I reached my hands out to him and he tried lifting, but it wouldn't work. I needed to be in a chair, not on the floor. I'm just too big to start that low. We then tried rolling me on my stomach. That only got me wedged in the broken furniture. He was persistent, however. I could tell that he liked touching my massive body, under the guise of trying to lift me. Eventually he was able to get me onto my back on the floor. With his help, I was able to roll to the side. At this point, I told him I needed to take a break. I was out of breath and covered in sweat. He went to get a towel while I gained my composure. After much discussion, we figured it would be best if I rolled on my stomach and tried to lift myself from a doggie position. The only problem with that was my belly. Even with my back arched at high as I could get it, I couldn't hoist myself enough to stop my gut from smothering the floor.

After a few minutes of thinking, he then put a bed sheet under my gut and wrapped it around me.

"When I say go, you try to lift yourself and I'll try to pull your belly up with this sheet. One, two, three, go!"

By some stroke of magic, I was finally able to get back to a standing position.

[ktcj66]

This story is great! I can't wait to read the next installment!

[txgunbounder]

I've been checking up on this story several times a day, looking forward to the next part. Even have it bookmarked on my phone, haha. I hope you continue this story!

[iLikeBig]

With compliments like that, I have no choice but to continue...

"I really have to pee now." I said.

"Okay, let's get you to the toilet."

As I already told you, it's really a chore for guys my size to use a toilet.

He must have sensed my apprehension when he said, "Hey big guy, how about you just pee in the shower, it's not a big deal, we're both men after all."

Thank heavens for modern bathroom. The shower stall was big enough to have me and him in it with room to spare. I had to pee so badly, but I was embarrassed. Without assistance, I would just pee all over the bottom of my belly and my legs.

I pointed at my gut and said, "Would you mind lifting this?"

He complied, and thankfully I was able to relieve myself.

He pointed to the tiled bench in the shower and said, "Hey fat stuff, you look super sweaty, why don't you sit down and let me hose you down with some nice cool water."

The bench was actually quite deep and I was able to lean back a bit and make myself comfortable. He turned on the water and proceeded to soap up a wash cloth. The cool water was just what I needed.

He rubbed that wash cloth all over starting with my face. I can't remember the last time anyone paid this must attention to me. Elliot was kind and patient. He lifted every fold and made sure it was clean. I was in heaven.

Once the soap was rinsed off, he got me back on my feet and led me to the pool. On the short walk over, I panicked. How would I get out of the pool? Why hadn't I thought of this sooner? My fears were immediately allayed when I saw there was a ramp leading from the patio all the way down the pool.

"Thank my lucky stars for ramps," I exclaimed.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about that. We had it put in when I was a kid. I had an uncle who was your size, probably bigger. During my summers here he would watch me while my parents were away. He was a police officer, but once he got to your size he couldn't work any more, no squad car would fit him. We were best friends; he was more like my father than my father was."

See, what I told you? Everyone seems to have a fat uncle.

I then walked over to the pool and jumped in. Well, maybe not jump, more like fell in.

Fine, think of your favorite Shamu story and insert it here. I hadn't been in a pool since college and I loved the weightless feeling. For the first time in years, I was able to move freely. Elliot seemed to love swimming under me, playing with ample belly, love handles, thighs... I was so buoyant that he was able to climb on me without making me sink.

Once the sun started setting, we got out of the pool. I almost didn't want to leave, but we'd been in there for hours. We went back to his bedroom where he proceeded to carefully dry every inch of me. He carefully lifted every droopy fold, patted it dry and coated it with powder. I felt more relaxed, better than I had in years.

"Why don't I get you a fresh pair of underwear and we can then go to the kitchen. It's getting late and I should think about what we can have for dinner."

Returning with my bag he pulled out what may have been the largest pair of blue underwear he'd ever seen.

"Wow, I would have guessed that briefs this big only came in white. That's too cool. Hey, I think I have a pair the same color, we'll look like twins."

Twins? We didn't even look like the same species.

"I almost forgot, I still have a lot of Uncle William's clothes and heavy duty chair in the attic!"

With me lying on the bed, he pulled the briefs up my calves. I rolled to a standing position while he yanked them past my thighs and over my ass. My love handles were hanging over, but he tried his best to push them in.

"No, you can stop there, they don't go any higher. I'm almost too embarrassed to tell you this, but I feel like I'm almost too big for clothing."

"Nonsense, Uncle William was as enormous as you and he had beautiful clothes. I’m gonna run up there and get the chair and some clothes just to show you. You’ll really like the chair; Uncle William couldn't sit at the dining table without it.”

I knew it was futile to try to stop Elliot, so I lay back on the bed while he went to attic. First he came back with the chair. It looked like a duplicate of the ornate chairs they had in the dining room only wider and with more legs. It was almost five feet wide with eight legs. He then pulled out a beautiful black suit.

“Here, let’s try this on you,” he said as he held up the pants.

“No, that’s okay; less clothing is definitely more comfortable when you're my size. I’m more comfortable in these sexy blue undies.”

“You sure? I think there's nothing more handsome than a man in a suit.”

“Well, in that case, get me a shirt and a tie too!”

[txgunbounder]

Very nice continuation. I'm glad you're still working on this

[gertlush]

That's a really good story, I enjoyed it!

[iLikeBig]

This may or may not be the last chapter in this story. I'm not sure if I have more to say about Greg. Let me know what you think...

Elliot went to work covering my enormous body in the clothes. To my complete amazement, everything fit. The sleeves and pants were a bit long, but besides that it was perfect. He completed the look with a belt that buckled without binding, shoes wide enough for my stubby fat feet and a tie that could touch the pants.

“My parents were very concerned with appearances so they hired a tailor to custom make clothes for Uncle William. After he died, I couldn’t bring myself to getting rid of them.”

“How did he die?” I said. I was fully expecting an answer like a stroke, heart attack, or he exploded.

“It’s kind of sad. After I had gotten a bit older, Uncle William’s doctor finally convinced him to try to loose weight. I was then able to get him to check himself into an extremely fancy "fat farm". He was at the "farm's" gym one day on the exercise bike. From what we could tell, there were too many super sized people in the cardio loft that day and the floor collapsed. In turn, they crushed the super size yoga class that was taking place below them. Kind of ironic? From that day on I swore I would never ask a fat person to loose weight.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, he sounds like he was a wonderful man.”

“He was.”

“Well, enough of that sad talk, let’s get some dinner. You know, you’re in luck, I had a dinner party last night and I think I have some leftovers. After all of that swimming you must be hungry.”

I didn't want to admit it, but I was starved. So, I casually said, "Now that you mention it, I could probably have a bite or two."

Elliot helped me take off William's clothes. I'm not sure if he took off my underwear too, my love handles and belly obstructed any view I may have had. Elliot then grabbed the wide chair and directed me to the dining room. He placed the chair at the end of the table and instructed me to sit while he assembled dinner. The chair was amazingly comfortable. My legs could comfortable swing to the sides, allowing my belly to claim its rightful place in the center.

Within minutes Elliot set the table for two and started bringing out the leftovers. He started with the hors d'oeuvres. There were six large trays filled with pigs in a blanket, cheese puffs, buffalo wings, fried mozzarella, and other amazing items. At first I was embarrassed to eat more than a few items. But, talking with Elliot was so relaxing that after just a few minutes I began to forget myself and I reverted to my normal form. For the next half hour I just piled the food in, one piece right after another. I was almost in a trance. The only thing I can liken it to is a runner's high that I once felt many years ago.

When we (actually, I should say I) finished all of the food on the table, I was still hungry. But, I tried to act cool, so it should be no surprise that I said, "Elliot that was a great meal! I can't believe I ate so much! Thank you for all of that, I really need to lie down and digest it!"

"Greg, what are you talking about? You're not going anywhere! That was just the appetizers! I haven't even finished warming up the entrees!"

I've always been a bit leery of encouragers. As you can tell, I don't have any trouble fattening myself without any help. Usually a situation like this would be a turn off, but Elliot was so charming that all I could say was, "Well, if you insist."

He then went into the kitchen and brought back half of a big turkey, a tray of lasagna, and huge pile of tri-tip. There was also huge bowl of different breads (already buttered) along with more vegetables than I usually eat in a year.

"Here's your dinner Mr. 500."

The following few hours were somewhat hazy. As I noted earlier, it was the most amazing trance-like state I've ever felt. Every time I would clear my plate Elliot would put more food on it. Every time I would finish my drink Elliot would refill it. My belly was bigger and firmer than I ever remember; I could feel it pushing my legs even further to side.

It was now seven hours later and I'd finally polished off the last of the two cakes Elliot had placed out for me. Both were chocolate, my favorite. I almost couldn't finish the second cake, but it was so tasty! Trust me, I can eat like nobody's business, but I've never ever been a stuffed as I was that night. With all of that food in me, I could barely move. But, the feeling was amazing. Elliot's soft caressing of my gut didn't hurt either.

"I can't believe it, you've eaten everything! Even though you are easily the fattest person I've ever seen, well except for William, I didn't think you'd be able to eat all of that! I think we need to get you to a more comfortable seat. I simply can't get over the size of your belly."

With great effort, I was able to stand. To get out of the dining room, I had to turn to the side to shuffle between the dining table and the serving table along the wall. I was sure there was enough room for me to pass. There wasn't. As I was struggling past the serving table my gut brushed the top of it. Nervously I tried to push back. When I did, I pushed into the edge of the dining table. Like a pendulum I then lunged forward and with all of my weight slammed into the serving table. It crumbled like a deck of cards and thankfully I came to a rest leaning against the wall. (I would have been stuck there indefinitely if I had fallen to the ground.)

Elliot let out a small giggle and said, "Don't worry; I never liked that table anyway."

He then guided me to another room, the library, and showed me the biggest recliner I've ever seen.

"I'm guessing this was William's?"

"You guessed right, it's also as well built as possible, even your massive body couldn't break it," he replied as I fell into the chair.

He then wedged himself into the tiny space next to me. Once settled in, he turned to kiss me. I was so ready to go to sleep at this point. Before I nodded off, I smiled to myself and thought, "He's definitely my favorite client!"

[iLikeBig]

I haven't posted in a while, but I'm working on another chapter. I hope to post it in the next week or two.

[eckgor]

You have an amazing imagination and a great handle on writing.

[bigbellylover]

living the dream!!!

[iLikeBig]

It took a while, but here's the next installment...

I woke up the next morning (actually, probably closer to noon) when the sun started to shine on my face and the smell of bacon perked up my nose. At my size you don't just jump out of the recliner, so I just sat there replaying yesterday's events and wondering what else Elliot would be making me for breakfast. After about 15 minutes I decided that it was time to get up. I fumbled for the handle to raise the back. As you know, I'm not the tallest of men and from my reclined position I couldn't reach it. Undeterred, I tried to hoist myself, but I simply couldn't overcome my own size.

“Elliot, could you come in here for a minute?”

Elliot, in all his glory, appeared before me as handsome as ever. He was wearing a pair of shorts, a tank top, and an apron.

“Good morning, Greg. Did you sleep well. You know it's almost 11:00 AM?”

“Yes, I slept like a baby. An overfed, somewhat immobile baby, but a baby none the less.”

“I'm glad to hear that. It looks like you're having trouble with the chair?”

“How'd you guess? I can't reach the handle.”

“Silly man, did you think we'd have a chair for William that had to use a handle? This chair is all electric.”

Having said that he grabbed a remote, press a button and the back started to raise. Once the back was raised, he pressed another button and the seat arced up, putting me in a standing position.

“There, that's much better. Now that you're up, why don't you go clean up, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

He was right, I was sweaty and I'm sure my breath could use a little mouthwash. So, I ambled my way to the large bathroom. Since he was cooking, I had to shower by myself and I wasn't looking forward to it. I know what you must think of me, but don't forget, I have to shower myself every day before I go to work. But for some reason it was more difficult this morning. I was having a harder timer reaching under my gut. My guess is that he has a shorter shower cord than I do at home. It was much nicer yesterday when Elliot let me sit there while he cleaned my every roll and fold. He must have been a mind reader because after a minute of my struggling with the corded head, he appeared.

“I'm such a rude host. I should have offered to help you!”

Trying to maintain some dignity I replied, “No, that's cool, I'm doing okay.” My beet red face gave away the fact that I was in fact struggling to clean off.

Without another word he had me sit back while he went to work. After I was dried off he went into my bag and found a pair of 7X boxers. Once on, he told me to relax on the bed while he finished cooking.

It must have been about 30 minutes later, that he came back, rolled me to the edge and helped me stand. We then made our way to the dining room.

There on the table was another feast! No, it wasn't as big as last night's meal, but it was nothing to laugh at either. There was a pound or two of bacon, a pile of eggs, loaf's worth of toast (already buttered and jellied), a beautiful big bowl of fruit salad, and a basket of muffins thrown in for good measure. As I've said before, I don't care for encouragers and I was determined to only eat as much as a normally weighted person.

“Elliot, this is beautiful, but you made so much.”

“Don't worry big guy, just eat as much as you want. Anyway, it's only Saturday. We can have the leftovers tomorrow.”

He then started to rub my belly; which of course made me smile.

“You're too kind, but I can't stay all weekend, I have to get back to the city.”

“Why? Wouldn't you rather stay here with me?” He said as he continued patting my gut.

My resolve was weakening, but I still still managed to say, “Well, I guess, but I need to get ready for work. Don't forget, I don't get chores done as quickly as you.”

“Don't worry about work. I'll just call Dave and tell him that I insisted you stay because I really wanted you to explain the proposal.”

I couldn't really argue with him nor did I want too. I was having an amazing time and secretly I had hoped that he would ask me to stay for a day or two.

“Well, I guess I can't argue with you. So, yes, I'll be happy to stay for the weekend.”

I'm sure you can guess what happened next. Even though I swore to myself that I wouldn't finish all of that food, over the course of the next two hours I put away everything in front of me. After a much needed nap to let my body digest the food, we went for a swim. The rest of Saturday and Sunday followed that same rhythm: eat a mountain of food, sleep on the recliner, swim. By the time Sunday evening rolled around, I was convinced that I had probably eaten every last bit of food in his house if not the entire town.

“Elliot, this was an amazing weekend. But, I really have to leave tomorrow. I need to get back to work.”

“I understand, but you'll have to promise me that you'll visit again. It's been great fun having all of you for a visit!”

He then led me back to the recliner where I happily collapsed.

The next morning he woke me at 7:00 AM as promised. He helped me clean off. When I got out of the shower I saw that he had cleaned all of my clothes and had them arranged on the bed for me.

“You didn't have to wash my stuff.”

“No big deal, it was my pleasure. I have a commerical washer, so I could wash all of your stuff in one load.”

I picked out the same 7X shirt and shorts that I wore earlier in the weekend. The shirt definitely fit, but I could have sworn that it was looser just a few days ago. He must have shrunk it in the dryer.

“Well, Elliot the time has come, I better get on the road. I don't know if I'm more sad that I'm leaving or that I have to face that killer set of stairs in front of your house.”

“Greg, you know there's a service drive that goes to the pool. I'll pull the car around back for you. No stairs at all, you can just be sad about leaving me.”

“That would be great. I really don't want a repeat of my entrance!”

In the time it took me to waddle through his house and out to the side of the pool, he had already brought my car around back and was waiting with the door open.

I would have liked to stand there for a while talking to him, but I was just too tired from the walk. Instead I propped my self up by grabbing the door frame with one hand and the roof with the other. I left lifted my right leg into the car and proceeded to swing my massive belly behind the wheel. Or at least I tried to swing my gut behind the wheel. Instead of going behind the wheel, my gut got stuck on the wheel. As much as I tried, I just couldn't get myself behind the wheel. It wasn't even close. I was so embarrassed; how could my gut have gotten so much bigger? Nah, I couldn't have put on that much weight, Elliot must have adjusted the seat.

“Elliot, did you move the seat or the wheel?”

“No Greg, what the matter?” Greg said with a mischievous smile.

“What does it look like? I'm stuck.”

That's all for now...

[txgunbounder]

I'm so glad to see you continuing this. Loving the story so far

[GotoGainow]

Your story is great, I read it everytime I see a new installment, KEEP IT UP!!!