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The Boomerang Feeder Part 3
🕑 Added 2017-08-29 20:46:22 +0000 UTC This was a disaster.It’s an hour away from our 3-year anniversary dinner, and all my dress pants don’t fit. And not in a “slightly too tight to be comfortable” way either - I mean the buttons won’t close no matter how much I suck it in. I even broke the zipper on one of them trying.
I don’t know what to do. There’s no way I can run out to get new pants; Craig will be home any minute!
No sooner has the thought raced through my mind than I suddenly hear the door slam, followed by an unusually deep sigh. Craig is home, and from the sound of things, he’s had another bad day at the office.
I walk downstairs, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, but when I see Craig leaning against the door, his bulk as wide as the frame, my expression turns to one of genuine concern.
“Rough day?” I ask, and it was all Craig needed to loose the floodgates.
“Terrible!” He nearly yells. “First, my boss comes to my desk saying he needs the TPS ready by noon, and I end up working through my lunch. Then Justine shows up and tells me Gaston is getting the promotion over me, the little bitch! And to top it all off, I had a wardrobe malfunction,” he says while turning around, showing the massive rip in the seat of his pants. Considering how his ass looks like two massive watermelons with a thin layer of cotton over them, and how his belly is hanging over his belt to almost cover his zipper, and how even the tiniest shift caused some rather ominous sounds to come from the fabric, I’m surprised his pants haven’t exploded off him already.
I was so enamored by the sight of him stuffed into clothes that clearly wanted off of him that I almost forgot my loving-boyfriend cue. As he stood facing the door I approached and hugged him from behind, wrapping my arms as far around his torso as his titanic rear allowed.
“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” I said softly into his ear. He grunted, but I knew it was calming him down.
“That happened at one,” he said, referring to his torn trousers. “I spent most of the day crab-walking down cubicle walls. Gaston even called out my ‘full moon’. God, I wanna punch his stupid face,” he trailed off until I started nibbling the thick flesh of his shoulder, then he sighed.
“It’s fine, you’ll get back at him some day,” I murmured. Although encouraging revenge didn’t sit well with me, I knew he was too much of a teddy bear to ever really do anything.
“That wasn’t everything,” Craig said. “My boss also took me into his office. He said he’s been noticing how much weight I’ve gained over the past year, and said he was ‘concerned.’ Started asking about my home life, if I was depressed, that sort of shit…”
He trailed off again, so I prompted him to continue. “Well. Are you?”
“God no, I’m happy as a clam,” he replied, then turned around and grabbed his belly in both hands, lifted, and then let it drop. It caused his entire body to wobble for a moment, and slivers of pink flesh to appear beneath the bottom of his shirts. “But I have gotten big. Really, really big. I mean, when it was just the occasional wardrobe malfunction it was fine, but now I can’t seem to go a week without some article of clothing breaking on me. I haven’t set foot in a gym for nearly a year. I’m so out of shape I’m winded just going up stairs. And people are really starting to notice and talk in the office.”
I stood there silent, unable to decide between two warring desires - the desire to comfort the man I love in his time of need, and the desire to strip off all his clothes, lift that belly one more time and suck him off where he stood.
Eventually, love won out. “So, what do you want to do?”
He brightened slightly as he looked me straight in the eye and said, “I want to join a gym. Both of us. You can help me get back in shape. Maybe I’ll never be as small as I was in college, but I can’t keep tearing through wardrobes every few months. Besides, you seem to have a bit of a pot growing yourself,” he said, poking me in my gut. His finger sunk in a lot further than I thought it would.
“Hey, glass houses buddy,” I shot back with a poke of my own that nearly swallowed my finger. “Sure, I’ll do it,” I said, although inwardly I sighed. “Does this mean you’re going to start eating salads all the time?”
“God no, I love my steak too much for that,” Craig replied, and my inward sigh turned from despair to relief. “But I can’t keep getting bigger all the time. Time we buy some runners and hit the gym.”
“Alright, let’s do it. I’ll get us some memberships tomorrow,” I said, mentally adding it to my to-do list along with buying new pants.
“Oh, and uhh… could you cancel our reservation for tonight?”
The question took me aback. “Why?”
“Because these were my last fitting pair of dress pants,” he sighed again, sheepishly avoiding my gaze.
My inward sigh now turned to a triumphant shout. Now I don’t need to cop to also having run out of fitting pants!
I beamed back at my giant lover and kissed him full on the lips. “I’m fine with that. But let’s get you out of these tight clothes,” I said, not willing to deny myself any longer. I reached beneath his hanging belly to deftly undo his belt while my other hand reached behind his head to bring him further into my kiss. We made out with him leaning against the door for what felt like hours, his pants hanging open but unable to fall since his thighs had gotten so thick and meaty they held up his pants all on their own.
His pants were open though, so I took advantage of it by running my free hand down beneath the zipper to feel the heat of his groin. It was hard to slip my hand inside the sheer fabric, but with some effort, I made it in and felt his hard shaft pressed against the fat of his groin through the mesh of his tight boxers. They were already damp with sweat, and judging by the smell, a bit of pre too.
I gave his shaft a good squeeze to coat my hand in his moisture and then brought it to his lips. While he sucked my fingers my free hand began to undo the buttons of his top. Craig’s shirt was tight too, his belly and chest stretching the fabric to the point where I was about to bring my other hand out of his mouth to help him disrobe, but an urgent gasp stopped me.
“Just tear it off, it’s too small anyway,” he said, breathing heavily, sweat started to dot his brow. I needed no further permission: I grabbed the middle of his shirt with one hand and pulled, the strained buttons flying off to every corner of the house. As they did, his entire torso seemed to surge forward and push me back a half step.
Still wobbling from its sudden freedom, the explosive release gave me a full view of Craig’s bare chest and belly, and they were magnificent. The roundness that he’d always possessed simply got wider and broader with each new pound. His chest sagged heavily atop his belly, each pendulous tit topped with a puffy nipple that had grown from quarter to silver dollar sized.
His belly was the true star of the show though: it was as wide as a beach ball, hung nearly far enough to cover his groin, and sandwiched by two massive love handles that seemed as thick as my thighs. From the front, it all seemed an impossibly vast and smooth expanse, but I knew his back had enormous folds where love handle, ass, and moob all met.
It was time for me to pray at this altar of excess. I latched onto one of his eraser head nipples with my mouth while the other cupped and pinched his other tit. The moans Craig was making told me he was loving the attention, so I made my way further south by kissing down his chest and belly. I went slowly, taking my time, moving only an inch or so at a time, feeling Craig tremble in anticipation.
I eventually made it to his still cloth-covered groin, where I pressed my nose and tongue into the fat surrounding his cock. I found that as he got heavier, Craig appreciated how vigorously I reminded him of how much of his dick was buried all the more. He still had plenty to work with though, and I made sure to mouth and suckle the exposed shaft through his boxers. Soon he was pre-ing a river, and I knew it was time to make my move.
Hands working as gently as I could, I dug my fingers into the tight waistband of his boxers and tugged them down, slowly, practically rolling them down his ass and juicy thighs. Eventually, the band got to his cock and I flipped it out, a dribble of pre-cum splashing over my lips. The mixture of sweat and pre was intoxicating, and I dove deep into his groin, taking his cock to the root.
Craig let out a loud moan as I swallowed him whole, my nose digging deep into the flesh and pubic hair just above it. I had to hold my breath as I did since his fat completely blocked my air ways from this position, but I’d gotten good at holding my breath. I’d come up for air every few seconds before diving in again, my one hand cupping his dangling balls while my other played with the fat of his belly pressing into my forehead.
My ministrations were relentless, and he didn’t last long. He shouted out just before a flood of cum filled my mouth. I had to swallow quickly as each jerk of his dick shot was felt like gallons into my eager orifice. The stress of the day must have made him pent up.
I got several more loads from him before the night was out. We ordered pizza, and I completely forgot to cancel our reservations.
