Padraig
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Aaron
🕑 Added 2020-12-22 06:40:42 +0000 UTCHere's another story I wrote a very long time ago, probably around 1999...in fact, I think it was the first one I ever wrote. It's a bit messy and inconsistent, but gets the job done.
It's been posted on other sites before, but I cleaned it up a little here.
I named the main character after me (it's my middle name) so it's a bit of wish fulfillment as well. Enjoy!
My dream:
I arrive at your house around 9 a.m. You answer the door in your pajama bottoms, and the first thing I notice is that your stomach is large and bloated.
You invite me in to sit down. I say hello and comment on the full belly you're sporting on your large, muscular frame.
"Yeah," you say, "I'm afraid I gorged myself yesterday, Jeff. I ate so much that I had to take a nap for a few hours. When I woke up, my family had driven up to the cabin to stay for the weekend."
"Aren't they expecting you there, Aaron?" I ask.
You're sitting across from me on the couch, with your stomach so swollen it seems to lay on top of your body, jutting away from you. You kind of look pregnant.
"No. I told them that I had a paper due on Monday and had to work on it all weekend." you explain.
You continue to describe what you consumed last night, including what you referred to as an 'encore' after your parents left. "They'll be expecting to come home to some leftovers, but I completely cleaned them out."
As you talk, you can't help but run your hands across your expansive, smooth belly.
"Believe it or not," you continue, "I woke up this morning still hungry, even though I was up 'til midnight last night stuffing my face. I must be up to 250 pounds."
All I can say is, "Awesome. Have you measured that big gut of yours?"
"I was waiting for you to get here" you say with a smile. The next thing I know, I'm kneeling at your big feet, wrapping the tape around your midsection.
You ask me if I want you to flex for me and I tell you, "Of course."
From my vantage point, looking up, you seem enormous. You are flexing your large biceps and broad chest for me as I read your measurements off to you.
"Your stomach measures 42 inches around, your waist is 38, your biceps are 20, your chest is 50, your thighs are 28, your calves are 19 1/2, and your neck is 18."
I tell you that I brought you something and would like to give you a massage. You readily agree, removing your pajamas and laying out on your stomach on the couch.
I start at your large feet and work my way up your firm, hairy calves and thick thighs, commenting that the added weight you've put on makes the muscles in your legs hard and strong.
You tell me that you never have to work out your legs, just a little walking around carrying your big frame is all the workout they need.
I massage your broad, muscular back next and then work on your big arms. Next, I knead the muscles of your thick neck releasing all your built up tension. After the massage, your completely relaxed. I get you to roll over onto your back, your belly swelling over the elastic of your underwear.
You ask me what I brought you. I tell you that I went to a new age shop and picked up an ointment that supposed to increase appetite and expand the muscles of the stomach. You grin up at me and ask me what I'm waiting for! Put it on me!
You place your hands behind your head, which is propped up on a pillow, so that you can watch me massage your big belly. I apply the cream directly to your stomach and began to rub it in circles.
"That feels awesome, Jeff," you say, "Put more on me. It feels warm and tingly, sending sensations all the way down to my spine."
After a few minutes, your belly emits a long, loud growl letting us both know you're hungry.
You excuse yourself to go take a shower and clean up and I go to the kitchen to prepare your breakfast. When you return, you are wearing gym shorts and a muscle t-shirt that rides up over your big belly.
On the table is a huge bowl of scrambled eggs (probably about three dozen), a stack of toast (made from a loaf of bread), a pound each of bacon and sausage, a gallon jug of milk, stacks of pancakes covered in butter and syrup, and a couple dozen biscuits.
"You never told me you could cook," you say to me with a smile, savoring the smells from the table.
"You never asked," I say back. "Really, breakfast foods are the only ones I'm very good at."
"I'll be the judge of that," you say and sit down and begin stuffing yourself. As you eat, we chat about things. You comment that with every bite that you eat, you seem to grow hungrier.
"My stomach doesn't even begin to feel full. It's like its stretching to accommodate whatever I put in it."
That cream must really work, I think. I begin to clear off plates and bowls as you finish them. Your stomach seems to swell larger with each mouthful you consume!
In about an hour, every piece of food has been crammed into you, you say that you finally feel full. You stand up and stretch your muscular arms, your belly pushing hugely out in front of you. I walk over and pat it. It is firm and solid under my probing fingers.
"We should weigh you, Aaron." I say, you put your arm around my shoulders and let me lead you to the bathroom scale.
You step on the scale and look down. All you can see is gut! I get down on my knees and read the number: 276 pounds!
"That's amazing. You've gained 26 pounds in one sitting, Aaron! How do you feel?"
I ask, my arm wrapping around your bloated midsection.
"Big!" you say, kissing me on the cheek. "Measure my belly." I measure you and report that your stomach has swollen to 46" around, four more inches to your massive frame.
"I feel like working out. Feel real strong."
We go into your room where you have some free weights set up and I watch as you curl, lift, and press huge amounts of weight, your muscles flexing and expanding sexily. When you're finished, I towel the sweat off of your gorgeous, muscular body.
It's about one o'clock and you say your stomach is rumbling again. I tell you there's not much food left in the house and you explain to me that your friend, John, is a caterer and will be bringing over lots of food left over
parties all over town. In the meantime, you suggest that we order some pizzas and watch a little television.
"I have an idea," you say to me, while watching TV and waiting for the pizzas to arrive, "Why don't you spread more of that cream on me? This time put it all over me, my legs, my back and chest, my arms."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I ask.
"Don't worry about a thing. I can take care of myself." you say.
At that moment, the pizzas arrive. A dozen loaded deep dish pizzas.
After applying the cream to your entire body, we sit and watch a few shows. You consume about a pizza every 15 minutes, washing it down with glass after glass of sweet tea.
It's nearly six o'clock when you're finished, your oversized stomach jutting away from your big body. "I can't believe I ate the whole thing!" You joke, patting your firm gut. "How much you think I weigh now?"
I shrug my shoulders.
"Get the scale for me."
When we weigh you this time, you tip the scales at 287 pounds. A huge 50" gut hanging off the front of you.
The phone rings and it's John. He apologizes for being late, he won't be able to get there until after 9 that night. You tell him it's okay, that we'll see him when he gets there.
"Let's go lie down and take a nap," you suggest. We get into bed and lay next to each other, your broad back against my firm stomach. Immediately, we both fall asleep.
I wake later to the sound of ripping cloth. Slowly I open my eyes to see your shredded shirt barely hanging on to your body, and your shorts about to give way.
I reach around you, not an easy task, and try to massage your big belly. You moan in your sleep and begin to roll over on your back, nearly crushing me!
"Oh my God!" I gasp. You are huge! During the short nap, your entire body expanded larger. Your stomach was still quite round and firm, but your chest had grown broader and wider, still heavily muscled. Your arms and legs were bigger, too . Everything was bigger!
"Aaron, wake up!" I said, shaking you roughly. You woke up slowly and tried to hoist your bulk up with some considerable effort. All you could do was stare at your impressive size, mouth hanging open. "There's so much more of you now!"
I said, noticing that you now took up nearly 3/4ths of the large bed. Your body hadn't grown much taller, only wider and thicker!
"I'm fucking enormous!" you say out loud. "That damn cream really works!"
At the same moment, there's a loud knock at the door. "It's probably John. You'll have to get rid of him. Tell him that I stepped out for a while and to leave the food with you."
I obeyed and went to the door. I explained to John that you had left for a while and that you asked me to take care of the food for him. He agreed and I helped him carry in dozens of large boxes filled with leftover dinners.
After rushing him out of the apartment, I heard a loud crash from the bedroom. You had maneuvered your new bulk to the weights and were lifting them like they were plastic toys.
"I'm a hell of a lot stronger. Measure me, okay?"
You continued to flex your muscles for me and for yourself. I noticed that you appeared larger than even many of the muscleguys in the bodybuilding magazines. You weren't super-ripped, just large and bulky. Built wide and heavy.
After the quick measurements, we stood looking at your amazing bod in the full length mirror. I looked puny and insignificant standing next to your gargantuan mass.
"I can't believe it, your chest is 62"! That's gotta be some kind of Guinness Record! Your gut measures 58 inches around with a waist of 44! Your biceps are a freaky 28 inches, bigger than that any I'd seen before! Thighs a whopping 36! That's bigger than my waist! Everything about you is jumbo-sized!"
I was in awe. You now tipped the scales at a tremendous 355 pounds, mostly hard muscle. Your stomach was the only thing out of place on your beefy body, but it was firm and hard like a pumped up muscle itself.
"You know what's crazy?" You said, turning towards me, your massive belly pressing against my flat waist. I shook my head.
Laying your large hands on my shoulders, you spoke. "I'm not nearly as big as I want to be. You've got to help me get even bigger. I want people to stare at my oversized muscles, get turned on by my freaky size! We'll begin tonight with another full body massage with that cream and a feast to end all feasts on the food John brought."
We both smiled.
