Padraig
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Nowhere to Go But Up, Part 2
🕑 Added 2020-12-26 02:04:39 +0000 UTCI have to say that by the time my one-year employment anniversary at the Carlisle Social Club rolled around, I was definitely feeling good. I had gotten a substantial raise in pay the week before, and along with the generous tips I received from the members, my bank account had never been healthier. I had moved into a nicer apartment that helped me to forget my old life with Devin and how miserable I had become. My weight was down about 10 pounds from the time Lucas left to 205, so all my most recent clothes still fit. And I had a new boyfriend!
Well, not a boyfriend, I guess, but a lover. His name was Frank, and he was also a member of the Carlisle Club. Frank was very different than Lucas in a lot of ways – he was assertive and confident, maybe a bit too loud sometimes, and was definitely pursuing his one and only passion: to be rich. Frank’s goal was to be the top stockbroker in the country AND be a multi-millionaire before hitting 25.
He was stationed in our city for the time being, but his ultimate dream was to make it to New York, so he was upfront that our relationship was just temporary until he could get a transfer from his current brokerage house into the big leagues, unless I was interested in moving across the county with him. I didn’t see Frank as a long-term match, but I knew I would enjoy the ride with him.
We met on the day of my 1-year Carlisle anniversary at the front entrance of the club. Frank had been a member for two months by the time, but our paths hadn't crossed before the moment he entered that afternoon and saw me handing a hat to another gentleman who was leaving. He stared at me for at least 30 seconds, eyeing me up and down, and then walked over to introduce himself. I told him my name, and he said, “Ryan, you are without a doubt the most attractive man I have seen in quite a long time. Would you have dinner with me tonight?”
Like I said, he was assertive.
I blushed, started getting an erection, and fumbled out a much-too-loud, “Sure!” He laughed and told me he would be available anywhere I wanted to go after 6:00pm. I told him my shift ended at 5:00pm that night and would text him after I secured a reservation, so we exchanged numbers and we exchanged smiles.
A few hours later and we were having dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant that I really enjoyed, and now it was my turn to stare. Frank had dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and a face that you would call classically handsome. He had a lean muscular body, was about 6’2” tall, and from what I could tell, had a sizable bulge down below.
I also found him to be witty and charming, and was happy to see him add a “please” or “thank you” accompanying every interaction with the host, server, and busser. Nice manners always make me swoon.
We had initially been seated across from one another at the table, but after ordering, Frank moved to the chair next to me. “Was something wrong with the other chair?” I asked.
“No,” he replied. “I just wanted to get closer. If you’re at the Louvre, wouldn’t you want to get right up next to the Mona Lisa?”
“Damn,” I thought. “So different than Lucas.”
Next Frank asked if he could put his hand on my leg, and I nodded. I thought he would place it on my lower thigh, close to my knee, but instead he reached over and plopped it down a few inches from my groin. He gently started rubbing and asked if it was OK. I nodded even more, but was pretty sure he was going to bump into my half-hard dick. Thankfully our appetizers arrived and he needed both hands to eat, or otherwise I might have eventually exploded in my pants.
While we waited for our main courses after the appetizers, we had some time to get to know one another. Frank told me about his money-making goals, his desire to end up in New York, and that he was just looking for some fun until he was able to make the move.
I spoke about my job at the Carlisle and how much I enjoyed working as a valet. Frank asked if I saw myself doing it long-term, and I didn’t really have an answer. “I just know I’m enjoying it right now,” I told him. “It makes me happy to help others.”
I also mentioned how I was trying to get back down to 175 pounds, and he asked if the reason was health-related. “No, just vanity-related,” I replied. “I want to look better.”
Frank reiterated that he thought I looked amazing. He said he was really turned on by big guys, and he liked how well I filled out my clothes. He used the words husky and beefy, but also sexy and attractive. Apparently Lucas was not unique in his appreciation of a chunky man.
Our entrées arrived a few minutes later, and I did a terrible job of convincing Frank I was trying to lose weight. After eating most of the bruschetta appetizers, I also chowed down all of my dinner, some generous tastes of Frank’s food, and a giant tiramisu for dessert.
Overall, I must have sucked down at least 2,500 calories during the hour and a half we were there. “OK, the diet begins again tomorrow, “ I told myself.
Once we finished, we headed to Frank’s apartment, where he gave me a tour which finished in a master suite dominated by a California King bed. He asked if I would like to continue the evening and I nodded again, so he let me in and shut the door.
Unlike with Lucas, with whom I had shed clothes quickly and clumsily every time we had sex, Frank took him time getting undressed and put everything neatly where it belonged. I attempted to do the same, but instead he asked if he could undress me himself.
I nodded. My nod muscles were definitely getting a good workout that day.
Frank took my hand, guided me to the bed, and gestured for me to sit down. He untied and took off my shoes first, and then rolled down my socks, all the while caressing my calves. I leaned back on the pillows so he could unbutton my pants, which he then shimmied off my legs, followed quickly by my underwear. He put all the clothes neatly on the chair next to the bed, and by the time he had finished, my cock was primed and ready for action.
“I thought I’d start the evening with a hand job. Is that OK, Ryan?” asked Frank.
“Definitely.”
“Would you like me to take your shirt off, too?”
I thought it over for a moment, and decided to leave it on for now. Even with all of Frank’s compliments about my size, I was still a little self-conscious when it came to revealing my torso.
Frank reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube, which he applied to his hands after rubbing them together to warm them up. He took hold of my cock and began ever-so-gently rubbing it up and down. “How’s that, big guy?” he asked.
I closed my eyes and said it was very nice. ‘Cause it was.
He continued rubbing, but a bit more vigorously. “Tell me again about your body, Ryan. What do you want to do with it?”
“Um, lose weight,” I said, still with my eyes closed and picturing me in my old gymnast uniform. “I want to slim again.”
Frank leaned in a little closer. “Are you sure you don’t want to get bigger? Maybe up 225 or 250? I saw how much you loved eating tonight – you really seem to appreciate good meals.”
I was about to respond negatively, but before I could, the image in my head changed. I saw myself fatter than ever, gobbling down food and bursting out of my clothes.
All I could get out was an “Um.”
The dick-rubbing got a little harder, and Frank put his free hand on my belly and started massaging it as well. “Come on, Ryan. You don’t want to go back to being a little wisp of a man. You got fat because you wanted to get fat. You like being fat. You love this big belly.
You love being big everywhere, right?”
I kept my eyes closed and started breathing much heavier. The vision of me in my head grew and grew and grew. I had to be at least 350 or 400 pounds, with flab all over my body. My gut extended way down past my knees, and my tits were bigger than the most voluptuous women I knew. Everything was so enormous and jiggly!
Frank was so close to me now that I could feel his breath on my face. “You know how I can tell you want to be a porker, Ryan? That you want to be so fat? It’s because every time I say it, your cock gets bigger and harder in my hand – it practically surges like its being hit with a high voltage wire. It knows what you really desire, and that’s to be a tubby guy. My tubby guy. My jumbo lover. Say it, stud. Say you want to be fat.”
“Fuck, yes, I want to be fat!” I said very loudly, almost screaming. And the expletive wasn’t because I was angry – it was because I was excitedly realizing the truth. As soon as I said it out loud, my cock burst and I entered a grand euphoric state that almost made me black out with bliss. I felt more alive in that moment than I ever had before.
Eventually I opened up my eyes to see Frank grinning. “How you feeling?” he asked, apparently unfazed by the cum all over his arms and chest.
I rubbed my belly and said, “I'm hungry for more.”
