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chocolatechubby · 1 year

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Bernie's Big & Tall

By Fatbrwncub

(posted with the permission of the Author)

The biggest problem--excuse me while I finish this last bite of cruller--is where to begin. It all seems to have happened so fast. One minute I'm standing in the unemployment line, trying to figure out where my next meal is coming from; the next thing you know, I'm getting the doors in my apartment widened so that I can get through. Oops! There goes another button.

Let me go back to the beginning--back to that unemployment line. My lover and I had been having problems making ends meet. There wasn't a great deal of a demand for my particular line of work in the winter---I was a lifeguard. At 6' 2" and 180 pounds, I cut a muscular frame, but everyone looks pretty much the same bundled up in parkas. My old job at the "Y" would probably have hired me back, but the pay stunk. And with a new lover, Sean, I had another mouth to consider. Sean suggested that I try modeling --his chosen profession, but as gorgeous as he was, he wasn't getting much work either. Why should we both be jobless cover boys? So, I headed to the unemployment office. Maybe something there would turn things around. Little did I know how right I was.

The place was depressing. Fluorescent light and peeling yellow walls covered everything like a moldy blanket. Cheap plastic chairs were set up for clients to wait for their turn to be humiliated by the next available counselor: "You'll have to take forms 2 thru 26 to windows 5 thru 14. Fill out lines A thru F on forms 30, 31, & 45; have them notarized and come back to me.... THEN I can tell you where the rest rooms are." As much as I needed the money, I wasn't up for that kind of run around. The YMCA was looking really good at that moment. As I got up to leave, I noticed the chair next to me quiver ever so slightly--as if a tremor were going through the building. The little table next to it was moving too. Now being hundreds of miles away from California, I knew it couldn't possibly be an earthquake. I was wrong. It was indeed an earthquake in human form. From around one of the peeling yellow corners, came the largest guys I had ever seen. His stomach seemed to go on forever, riding over his belt and spilling onto his massive underbelly like a tidal wave. Each of his labored steps made it quiver and roll. His arms, chest, and shoulders were so large that he had to twist his body slightly to maneuver the corner, yet each movement had an elephantine grace that was something to see. He was dressed impeccably in a suit that must have been tailor-made for him: it hung gracefully on his gargantuan figure. He was quite handsome, dusty blonde hair and neatly trimmed beard, and the bluest eyes. Growing up, the party queens I hung with always made fun of fat guys. Somehow, I always found something vaguely attractive about men with extra meat on their bones. I absent-mindedly rubbed my stomach as I watched him make his way to a Job Resource bulletin board on the other side of the room. He scanned the whole area carefully--deep in concentration, he seemed to be looking for someone. When his eyes met mine, his mood abruptly changed. His full round mouth had a slight smile on it as he zeroed in on me. I got the feeling he was studying me-not in that "cruisey" way, but as if he were trying to figure me out. He, raised a sausage-like finger, and motioned me over to him. For some reason, I wasn't taken aback at all. Something about him seemed so familiar. "Looking for a job?", he said. "Kinda", I replied. He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a candy bar and a folded piece of green paper. "Wanna bite?", He asked. "No thanks…", I replied "…but I could use work." He unfolded the piece of paper and tacked it on the bulletin board, smudging it slightly with the chocolate from his fingers. "Well then, you might wanna check this out." With that, he took a large bite of candy bar, turned around, and began lumbering back down the hallway. I was about to say something when he stopped and turned around again (no easy feat for a man his size). "How old are you?", he asked. Slightly startled by his abrupt departure, I blurted out "29." Before I could ask him why it mattered, he patted his mountain of a stomach and smiled a knowing smile: "Same age as I was when I started at BB&T. See ya' around Danny!" And with that, he and his tremors were gone.

BB&T? I looked at the piece of paper for a moment. I took it down from the board and began studying it--trying to make it tell me more about the big, mysterious stranger. But all it did was sit in my hand and smell of Hershey's. The only writing was a quickly scribbled address and telephone number: "Bernie's Big and Tall-525-BIGG. The chocolate had formed a ring around the writing so that it looked like a halo. I laughed at the idea of working in a big men's shop, but hell, I needed work badly. Besides, something inside me started recalling the times when I'd been oddly aroused by the large men who were the butt of my friends' jokes. Maybe by working there, I could discover what the attraction was all about. I walked over towards the pay phone in the corner chuckling to myself. That's when it struck me that he'd called me by my name-Danny. Did I know him? He really did look familiar....

The phone rang ten times before someone answered at Bernie's. When someone did pick up, they were so out of breath I had to wait a couple seconds for a "hello". Then I remembered what type of establishment this was---all the employees probably looked like the guy I'd just met. Well, if for no other reason, they could hire me to answer the telephone. I smiled. It turned out to be Bernie himself on the line. Before I had a chance to say "Hello", or introduce myself, Bernie cheerfully announced: "Danny! Joe said you'd be calling! When can you start?" I was stunned. I stammered out, "B-but you don't even know me!" "I don't have to!" was his amiable reply. "Anybody that Joe picks will work out fine!" I didn't have the guts to tell him that I had no idea who the hell "Joe" was, but then maybe he was an old friend of my family's. Who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Especially from such a large horse!

Bernie's Big and Tall was in a little strip mall just outside of the city. It took me two maps and three detours to find it. I almost gave up, but something told me to keep looking. A small card shop on one side and a bakery on the other flanked the store, and were the only other establishments in the complex. I was sure the employees at the Big and Tall kept the bakery in business because it was too far away from anything else to have a regular clientele. The store itself was rather unimpressive: a sign painted on the window proclaimed "Bernie's" with a silhouette of a rotund man underneath. A couple of half dummies sat dejectedly in the window--the clothing which covered them obviously too large for their frames. The one rather curious and slightly impressive item was the door to the front of the shop. It was huge. Much larger than the doors in most retail establishments, it must have been custom made for Bernie's king-size clientele. What did it feel like to need extra room for everything? When I put my hand on the handle to push the door open, I got the strangest feeling that if I stepped across the threshold of this place, my life would change forever. "This is ridiculous!" I remember thinking to myself "It's just a job for goodness sakes!" I pushed the door open and went in.

Lone Star's "I'm Already There" was playing on a far off country music station as the bell over the door gave a little tinkle. The place had that slightly musky perfume of your grandfather's closet-that subtle scent of fine pipe tobacco and Old Spice. The shop was much bigger than it seemed from the outside, and had a second level with a balcony and offices that overlooked the showroom floor. For a moment, I felt as if I was on a sound stage for "Land Of The Giants"-everything seemed oversized. From the racks that were set up for the tallest of the tall, to the suits that looked like they were made for Guinness Book Fattest Man nominees. All were neatly hung on rotating racks or show room displays. I'd never worked retail, but somehow I felt right at home. From above boomed a lusty voice: "Danny!". I looked up to find a large man leaning on the steel railings of the balcony. It didn't seem possible, but he was even bigger than Joe from the unemployment office. Every part of him was fat-from his puffy hairstyle, to his big feet. He looked like a balloon character from the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I half expected to see wires attached to him with people below maneuvering him. "Bernie?" I queried and his hearty laugh confirmed it. "None other my boy! Come on up!"

Bernie's office was at the top of the stairs. As I bounded up, two at a time, Bernie let out a chuckle "That's something you don't see many of our salesmen do!" He ushered me ahead of him and I walked through another enormous door to find myself in a small room, made smaller by its furnishings. It consisted of a small oak desk, and a computer-standard office fare. However, the large refrigerator, stand-alone pantry, coffee maker and microwave were not. "Before we begin, may I offer you something to eat?" Bernie asked, already carefully maneuvering his way around the desk to the refrigerator. It was somewhat surreal watching this super-sized man practically squeeze his way through the cramped quarters. He opened the refrigerator to reveal a small deli: meats of all kinds, exotic breads and cheeses, beverages ranging from soft-drinks to fine wines, all carefully stocked within its quarters. Bernie rummaged through, and pulled out an overstuffed submarine sandwich and began munching. His grunts of pleasure permeated the office, and instead of revulsion, I actually enjoyed watching this man eat with such gusto. For so many years, I had deprived myself of some of my favorite foods in exchange for the washboard stomach that I possessed. Maybe, if I worked here, I could live vicariously through these guys. My internal reverie ended with Bernie's voice. "Well at least share a cup of coffee with me. I hate nourishing myself alone." I smiled my assent and Bernie squeezed his way to the coffeepot. I was not a big coffee drinker, but I figure a little kiss up wouldn't hurt my job prospects any. Besides, for some reason the coffee smelled particularly delicious.

Bernie produced two mugs-each with the Big and Tall logo I had seen on the front door of the shop. "How do you take yours?" he cooed. "Black" I answered. "Well you must indulge me one small addition to your mug…I make my own blend of spices that seem to really liven up the coffee-nothing much, just some cinnamon and vanilla. Stuff like that. You're not allergic to anything are you? I told him no, and he took a small packet from the standing pantry, tapped it lightly on the desk, tore the corner and emptied the contents into my cup. The granules looked like Folgers Crystals-little flecks of something shiny danced and fell gracefully into the mug. Bernie took a small silver spoon and began stirring the coffee. The aroma was like nothing I had smelled before. Memories of big Sunday breakfasts and hearty Thanksgiving dinners suddenly became as vivid as if they'd happened yesterday. Nights spent eating cotton candy and funnel cake at the local carnival-laughing with my friends and gorging on hotdogs-all seemed palpable. Bernie brought the mug close to my nostrils and placed my hands around it. "Drink, my boy. And then we can talk about your joining us at BB&T."

Almost mesmerized, I brought the cup to my lips and took a sip. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. The beans of the coffee blended with the spices and my taste buds seemed to spring to new life. The thoughts of all of the goodies I had denied myself over the years began to turn into a craving, then a hunger. I could feel my stomach began to growl for food. I had grabbed a McMuffin when I'd left the unemployment office, but that had been several hours ago. It was natural for me to feel starved. But in the middle of a job interview? I had to eat something. As if on cue, Bernie produced an enormous plate of chocolate chip cookies. "Have one?" Bernie again cajoled. "I--I--…" I stuttered, but no other words would come out. The cookies looked like manna from heaven. I could feel the drool forming on my tongue. I grabbed one and placed it in my mouth. It melted like butter, blending with the coffee and exploding my senses like an orgasm. My crotch leapt, writhing with the rise and fall of my breath. I came up for air, took another cookie and a sip of the coffee. Again, the exact same sensation-yet more intense. I thought I was going to erupt right then and there. I gulped more of the drink and began inhaling the pastries with lightening speed. In less then ten minutes the entire plate was empty. The wildest thing of all…I was still hungry!

I looked up at Bernie, who was standing over me with a knowing smile. "It's always better to talk on a full stomach." He went to the refrigerator and pulled out another overstuffed submarine sandwich-twice the size of the one he'd just eaten. "Are you sure I can't tempt you with one of these?" My mouth opened automatically, and Bernie floated over and placed the monstrous hoagie in my hands. I tore into it as if I hadn't eaten in weeks. In between bites, Bernie suggested that we carry our meeting to The Blue Whale, a restaurant frequented by he and his staff. As I rose to go, onions and lettuce falling everywhere, Bernie touched the intercom on his desk. "All right boys…" the echo of his voice could be heard in the showroom below "…time for our foray to The Blue Whale! Close up shop!" In between munching, I could hear, and feel great activity from the floor below. The floor vibrated much like it had done in the unemployment office. We moved out of the office and onto the balcony to a sight that would have sent my old faggy friends into a tizzy. Below were five of Bernie's staff-each one plumper than the next. They stood at attention as we came down the stairs. Bernie introduced me to each, ending with their newest salesman, Dominic. He had to weigh at least 350 pounds. "This is our baby!" Bernie gushed, pinching Dominic's flushed cheek. "Been with us about a year" he poked Dominic's round middle. "He's starting to fit in quite nicely." Bernie lumbered towards the door, pulling me along with him. "Daniel here will be joining us for lunch-and hopefully more. Make him feel at home." And still in a spin from all that had happened since walking through the doors of Bernie's Big & Tall, I was off to The Blue Whale.

The Blue Whale was quite nice--muted tones of aqua and gray gave it warmth and style. A Bach concerto whispered softly as Bernie and the other salesmen took their seats. We had been ushered to a table in a private area of the restaurant--one large enough for the substantial girth of our party. It was obvious that Bernie and the gang were regulars, because all of the wait-staff knew everyone by name. It was also pretty obvious that time that the entire staff of Bernie's was gay. Underneath a curtained archway, a cadre of handsome waiters looked ready to break into a chorus of "Hello Dolly". They giggled and whispered as if they were dance hall girls anxious to see which gentleman would pick them out of the crowd. The headwaiter, who looked to be about Bernie's size, clapped the others to attention. "Don't just stand there like a bunch of schoolgirls! Take these gentlemen's orders!" he barked. "Oh Jacques," Bernie cooed "...just bring us our usual!"

I was returning to normal, my appetite assuaged and my pants screaming to be unzipped-my distended belly playing hide and seek with the buttons on my shirt. It was time to ask about hours and pay, and all the standard stuff. As I opened my mouth to get down to business, the first of the waiters arrived with the appetizers. There was enough food to feed a small city. Plate upon plate of mouth watering delicacies passed before the table: shrimp wrapped in bacon, small puff pastries stuffed with creams and cheeses and meats-anything that I had ever seen at fancy buffets was now being placed under my nose. I thought of the spectacle I must have made in Bernie's office, and my stomach began to turn. The thought of more food was making me nauseous. And then the coffee arrived. Jacques himself brought out the ornate samovar and ushered it towards Bernie. "Monsieur Bernie" he chimed. "Ze coffee wis your special mix eez ready". As Jacques opened the spigot and poured the first cup, the table went silent. Unbelievably I could feel my stomach loosen. I could feel the insatiable hunger I had felt in Bernie's office return. It was as if I had never eaten the mound of cookies. Just the aroma of the incredible liquid wafting into my nostrils was enough to make me want to stuff something in my mouth. All around me, the other men were having a similar reaction. I remember seeing episodes of "Wild Kingdom" with sharks or packs of wolves in a feeding frenzy. There was a primitive ritual about to happen, and everyone knew it. As the coffee was passed around, Dominic, began to sweat. When a cup made it to him, he grabbed it, and chugged down the hot liquid as if it were the first drink of a dehydrated man. He then grabbed the nearest tray of hors d'oeuvres and began shoveling them into his mouth. Sweat glistened on his brow as he tipped the tray up and up until he was literally swallowing and chewing almost simultaneously. A waiter quickly scurried over and began wiping his brow and massaging his hardening belly. I sat in awe as I watched each of the sales guys fall into the same kind of trance-that is until my cup reached me.

I recall one of the adventures of Homer's "Odyssey", in which Odysseus and his men encounter the witch Circe. Once on her island, she turns most of the men into animals. Bernie had led his men into the modern day version of that adventure. I don't remember much about the rest of that meal. As my haze parted from time to time, I was aware of grunts and moans of pleasure coming from around the table. Slurping and guzzling and licking were followed by burps and the occasional button pop or zipper pull being loosened. Halfway through the fourth course, everyone abandoned silverware and began eating off of plates and trays with their hands and mouths. I found myself caressing and licking the gravy off of plates as if it were a lover. No mouthful seemed enough-I couldn't get the food in fast enough, and the sounds and sights around me seemed to urge me on. By dessert, each man was no longer able to feed himself. The waiters took over and began shoveling whipped cream, cakes and pies into our dazed faces. I can't tell you how much I ate, but I literally couldn't move. My belly was as hard as a ripe cantaloupe and I closed my eyes and slept.

When I awoke, the entire table had been cleared off. Any trace of the feeding frenzy had been wiped away, and all of the men had been cleaned up and were groggily coming to themselves. If it weren't for the screaming pain coming from my stomach, I would have thought it all a dream. Standing above me was a beaming Bernie. "I hope you got enough to eat." The boys and I do this at least three or four times a week. Don't worry about the bill…I take care of that." I sat up and blinked. I couldn't believe this was happening. Bernie handed me a packet of papers-the standard Human Resources forms to fill out along with information about my salary and benefits. My eyes almost popped out of my head when I saw how much I'd be making. It was at least five times what I would have made at the "Y". How could he afford to pay for all of this? Bernie saw my reaction. He said "Don't worry, this salary is only temporary. With raises and incentives you'll quadruple it in no time. So do we have a deal?" Was he crazy? I propped myself up on my swollen stomach and shook his hand. "On one condition" I said. He cocked his fat head and his chins wobbled. "What's that, my dear boy?" "That you give me some of that coffee to take home"

In the beginning, everything went along pretty normally. The store practically ran itself. And I was more than content--I was happy. The first time I noticed something different was after my initial lunch with the guys. The next few days, I was ravenous. I ate from morning till night. And I craved the coffee with the secret ingredient introduced to my by Bernie. One morning, about a week after I had started working, I rolled out of bed and began getting ready for work. Sleepily I showered, shaved, and stumbled into my clothing. I stepped into my dress slacks and pulled them to my waist. They wouldn't close. With my swimmer's lifestyle, I had been a perfect size 32 for years. I never had to worry about putting on weight. I went to the scale in the bathroom and stepped on. Since I had begun working at the store, I had put on ten pounds! "Not acceptable." I thought to myself. I sucked in my stomach, fastened my pants and made a mental note to go to the gym more often and most importantly--to cut out lunching with the guys. But somehow neither thing seemed to happen--I was constantly working until after the gym closed. And not going to lunch with the Bernie and the gang became as unthinkable as not having cup after cup of the delicious mysterious coffee. I began to have strange dreams: I would dream I was in the middle of Africa in the bush country, taking pictures of wildlife, when the earth would begin to shake. Suddenly an enormous Bull Elephant the size of a building would come crashing through the tall grasses and block the sun. I was terrified until it would dawn on me that I was the Elephant! Then, understanding my power, I began breaking down trees, even mountains--growing more enormous with each new conquest. After one of these dreams, I would always wake in a sweat, run to the kitchen, and raid the refrigerator--absent-mindedly eating until I was sleepy.

After about three months of this, I could no longer hide the results. I tried to wear my size 32 pants until they had all systematically exploded off of my frame. My suit jackets had begun cutting off the circulation in my arms, and my old shirts were laughable on my new frame. Between the daily lunches, midnight binges, and very little gym time, I had gone from 180lbs, to 230. My pants size had gone from the perpetual 32 to a 42.

One night, about a week before my 30th birthday, I tiptoed into the bathroom when I thought Sean was sleeping. I took off my clothes and stepped in front of the full-length mirror. My face was so round! I was beginning to develop a pronounced double chin. My thighs and ass were full and big, and my stomach was beginning to grow into this ball of soft flesh. And my tits! I remembered my high school gym teacher teasing Jeffrey Lowell and Scott Taylor: two fat kids in my class. He used to call their soft round mammaries "man-tits", kidding them about having bigger ones than most of the girls, (which was true). I used to find those two guys fascinating: the way they lumbered onto the field for class, the way they looked in the showers. I knew I was gay back then, but it was something more than that. And here I was with my own set of "man-tits". I touched the right nipple, and then the left--crossing my arms and inadvertently giving myself cleavage. Electricity shot through my entire body. My nipples had become so sensitive! Caught in my exploration, it took me a moment to realize that my lover Sean was standing behind me. He had come in to use the toilet and noticed me in the mirror. "You're fat," he said as he sleepily relieved himself, kissed me on my chubby cheek and padded back to bed. He was right. I WAS fat. But looking in the mirror, I wasn't sure that was a bad thing. I touched my nipples again and headed for the kitchen.

The next day at work, Bernie and the guys threw me a birthday party and presented me with two gifts. The first was a container of the special ingredient for my coffee, and the next was a new suit from the store. It was the first size that we carried for big men. I was still a size or two away from needing to shop at Bernie's and had decided to keep it that way. "No offense guys...", I said, "...but I plan on never wearing clothes from our store!" "Well we can always get it taken in." Bernie quickly replied. "We just wanted to show you how glad we are that you're here. Now cut the cake and have some coffee!" I declined the cake, but I had 3 cups of coffee. That evening determined to change my eating habits for my 30th year on this planet, I took off early and headed for the gym. On the way, I passed restaurant after restaurant, fast food joint after fast food joint. I kept thinking to myself, "You've got to lose weight." Yet every time I would ask myself "Why?" I couldn't come up with a good enough answer. Until I thought of Sean's comment in the bathroom: "You're fat!" "You could lose him", I thought. I steadied myself and pointed the car in the direction of the gym. When suddenly, a little voice spoke to me: "But if you go to the gym right now, you could lose YOU." Suddenly I was starving. I turned into a Kentucky Fried Chicken, ordered a 20-piece bucket, and ate the whole thing in the car.

When I got home, Sean had prepared a huge meal of pasta, fresh bread and salad. Even after my trek to the Colonel's, I wolfed down plate after plate. Sean announced that he had news--good and bad. The good news was that he had landed a choice modeling assignment with a top agency. The bad news was that the agency was out of the country and he would be gone for at least 5 months! I felt like I was going to die. I wanted to scream, "It's me isn't it? I'll lose the weight! Don't go!" But instead, I stuffed some more food in my mouth and hugged him tightly. I loved him too much to stand in his way. And if he found someone else with a swimmer's build who made him happy...so be it. Sean had to leave the day before my birthday. As he hugged me before he boarded the plane, he whispered, "See you later fat boy", in my ear and walked away. And I knew I'd never see him again. When I got home, I pulled out the suit Bernie and the guys had given me and put it on. I looked like a kid playing dress up. Even though I was working on a size 44 waist, the pants had to be at least a 46. I thought of Sean and suddenly felt free. I sat down with a mixing bowl of Captain Crunch and heavy cream and imagined myself filling out the pants.

What happened next is all a blur. Knowing that I had lost Sean, I poured myself into my work and my food. Both satisfied me intensely. The store was doing great business. It seemed that the more I ate, the more productive I became. I was growing daily. Every time I turned around, a button would pop or a zipper would break. I began to carry around safety pins to keep my clothes up--it became a running joke around the store. The guys who used to seem enormous to me suddenly began to look average. I became the star at the Blue Whale. The waiters would line up to be my encourager and with Sean gone, I used their attention to help me forget about Sean. Bernie, who was no slouch at the dinner table, would watch me in amazement as I polished off plate after plate of entrée after entrée with all the trimmings, the servers massaging my distended belly and cooing at my appetite. Then go to work on the dessert cart. I stood in the mirror more often now. I was officially fat by anyone's standards. My face was so round that sometimes I wouldn't recognize myself. Because I was constantly lifting heavy boxes, my arms were huge and firm, as was my chest. But my stomach became my favorite area. I would hang out at the bar around the corner from my apartment and drink beer after beer to the amazement of all the guys. I started wearing suspenders because no pants it seemed would hold my ever growing gut.

In the first month after Sean left, I put on 35 lbs. I tipped the scales at around 265. From then on, not a waking (or sleeping) moment went by that I didn't eat something. I even took food breaks in the store. Bernie was right about the suit I was given for my birthday--I DID have to have it altered...eventually it had to be let out--twice! Sean would call and we would have stilted conversations. He would ask me if I was still gaining weight, and I would avoid talking about it. He would tell me he loved me, but I knew it was just talk. The company had extended his contract--he didn't know when he'd be back. Every now and then, I would get a postcard from some exotic place saying, "Having a Wonderful Time, Wish You Were Here". But I was too busy to notice. I was becoming the Elephant of my dream. I could feel my power.

In the next few months, I surpassed all store sales records, and there was big talk of a promotion to store manager. Except for the prospect of leaving this location, I couldn't have been happier. At least, when I wasn't thinking about Sean. The 5 months had quickly become 8 and then 10. In that time, my physical gain had become as impressive as my professional one. In the year since I had begun working at Bernie's, I had gone from 180 to 380 lbs. My waist had gone from a 32 to a 62. I was beginning to make earthquakes of my own.

One night I awakened from a dream (in which my stomach broke through the walls of the Empire State Building) by a voice in the darkness. "My God! You're huge!" it was Sean's voice. He was standing over the bed. He sounded different somehow. My first instinct was to grab him with my big arms and engulf him in my newfound mountain of flesh and warmth. But anger quickly welled up inside of me and I sat up in bed--the third empty large pizza box falling off of my stomach. "Yes I am." I said proudly, "You got something to say about it?" "Yes..." he said-I could hear the smile in his voice as he moved closer. "We are going to need a bigger bed." And with that, he turned on the light. My mouth dropped. When Sean left, he had been a 6 foot 1 inch, 170 lb. cover boy: now standing before me was a 6 foot 1 inch, 285 lb. (he told me later) gorgeous Buddha. His round face now covered with a lush beard. It was obvious that he was gaining weight faster than he could buy clothes to fit him: the T-shirt he was wearing wouldn't fit over the big round belly protruding over his tight size 48 jeans. "How?!...Why?" I stammered. "By eating dummy!" he laughed. "And I have a feeling that the delicious stuff I borrowed from you to put in my coffee helped". "But I thought you didn't like me fat!" I was almost crying now. Sean sat on the edge of the bed--which groaned under the over 600 pounds of us. I could see how horny he was as his great stomach heaved. "You never asked. You just assumed I wouldn't want a fat lover. I loved watching you pig out. I'd come in the bedroom after you'd gorge and jack off. Didn't you notice how intense our love-making got after you started putting on weight?" "I thought you were over-compensating because you loved me." I said. "Of course I love you Danny, but not in spite of how much you weigh-your size turns me on! I want you as big as a house!", was his breathless reply as he kissed me full on the lips. "And I hope you're ready for me to join you." He took off his shirt to reveal burgeoning man-tits and the most beautiful belly I had ever seen. He straddled me, opened my robe and began exploring my under-belly, kissing it and licking lower and lower. I felt hungry and horny at the same time as I pulled him to my crotch. We broke the bed that night.

T hat was three years ago. When I waddled into work the next day, I was beaming. Sean and I made love all night, and then spent the entire morning eating the breakfast to end all breakfasts. During which, he told me of his adventures in Europe. He spent the first few months pining over me-not eating, not sleeping. Once he began drinking the coffee, his appetite returned and he immediately found solace in food and proceeded to eat himself out of his misery. Of course this began to show on his waistline, and after a month, he was let go from his modeling contract. As luck would have it, a photographer on the shoot also worked with a new European catalogue designed for big men. He introduced Sean to the head of the company and the rest was history. Sean spent the remainder of the tour eating and posing in the finest cities of the Old World. He really had a wonderful time and wished desperately that I had been there. We decided to get married and spend our honeymoon eating our way through all of the spots he had discovered in his travels.

When Bernie saw me, he sensed the change immediately. "My boy, either you had sex last evening, or discovered that Little Debbie delivers-which was it?" We were in his office, munching on crullers. We had positioned ourselves so as to be able to reach the refrigerator and standing pantry without moving: we had become so large that it was impossible for the two of us to move around. "Both" I laughed. I told him of Sean's return, and of his amazing transformation. I told him that my life was complete: I had a job I loved, and a partner whom I adored. Bernie smiled, and in it, I thought I caught a hint of bittersweet sadness. "Well then," he said. "…my job is done." And he immediately began opening drawers, removing papers and stuffing them in a nearby briefcase. Stunned, I spattered out "What are you doing?"- crumbs spewing across my white shirt. Bernie smiled, and calmly explained. "I am a business man my dear. I have many other BB&T locations to check on. Joe, the man you met at the unemployment office, is my lover. He's already gone off to our store in Portland, and now I can join him. We needed to find a manager for this store that we could depend on and trust to carry on my traditions. We found him." He reached over and patted my stomach, which was wedged against his desk. "But…but…" I searched for words. How could I tell this man that he had become my mentor, my father-my friend! I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind. "But where will I get more of Bernie's Secret Mix for my coffee?" Bernie laughed "make it yourself darling-I told you, it's just cinnamon and vanilla." I stared at him blankly. "But what about the secret ingredient? The stuff that makes us so ravenous?" Bernie chortled "The secret ingredient my boy, is you."

I looked down at myself. At 400 lbs., my 4X dress shirt was already gapping in the front around my stomach. People moved out of my way when they saw me coming because of my size. My whole world had become food-I expressed myself in how much I indulged. Was Bernie saying that this had been my destiny all along. I thought back to High School-to Jeffrey Lowell and Scott Taylor-to the big men who would intrigue me when I was with my friends. I realized, not only did I want to HAVE them, I wanted to BE them. And now I was. I guess he was right: it was in me all the time.

So now I run Bernie's Big & Tall Store #836. We consistently bring in the highest revenues of any in the chain. We also have the fattest staff. I've had my offices expanded to include a full kitchen, and have hired my favorite chef and waiters from the Blue Whale to prepare in house meals for my staff. I surpassed Bernie's weight about a year ago, and am so fat that I had to install a freight elevator to get to the second floor, because the steps are impossible for me to maneuver. I am fast approaching Guinness Book proportions. As for Sean-he now models for Bernie's catalogue. He quickly outgrew the standard sizes, and a new super-size line was developed. Sean also recruits new employees for the store. He now tips the scale at over 500lbs., and is the most beautiful roly-poly thing I've ever seen. So you see, dreams come true in the strangest places. Who would have ever thought that I would find my life's calling in an unemployment line? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to interview a potential salesman that Sean found, and I have to brew some coffee.

By the way…are YOU looking for work?

The End.

#CCstories #f #fatbrwncub

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 9 months

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hey, yall like t4t lesbian steddie? how about transfem eddie beefing coming out to her girlfriend Real Hard?

also on ao3 here

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Eddie has never been able to control her mouth. Honestly sometimes she wonders if she has some kind of medical condition that makes her incapable of saying normal things at the appropriate time.

And this is a real problem when trying to figure out how to tell her girlfriend that she might kinda wanna be a girl too maybe. Because instead of sitting the love of her life down and calmly explaining that she’s been doing some thinking and might want to experiment with her gender more, Eddie just holds it all in until she projectile vomits the information at the worst possible time.

They’re snuggled in bed, hazy in post-coital bliss, Stevie burying her face in Eddie’s neck and nuzzling in with her nose like a kitten looking for milk. It’s adorable. Eddie half expects her to start making biscuits on her stomach.

And so when Stevie sighs contentedly, hums a little, “My boy,” with so much love in her voice Eddie kind of wants to cry, she’s not ready for the wave of wrongness that crashes over her, smashing the cozy, contented vibe in the room like it’s an actual tidal wave ripping the trailer to shreds.

So she does what she always does. Fucks it up.

“No I’m not,” she says, voice choked with panic.

Stevie stiffens against her. “What?” she asks.

“I’m not your boy,” Eddie says. “It’s not- I-”

Stevie draws away from her, and Eddie already misses the warmth. She keeps her eyes screwed shut, doesn’t want to see Stevie’s reaction to the information that her boyfriend is actually her girlfriend. And yeah, the logical part of her brain knows that it absolutely is not an issue. Stevie’s a lot of things (beautiful, wonderful, perfect, a teensy bit of a bitch but just enough to keep things interesting-), but she’s not a hypocrite, so the trans thing is obviously fine. And Stevie was well known for making her way through most of the female population of Hawkins High before she came out, so the girl thing is also obviously a non-issue.

But. That mean little voice in the back of Eddie’s head. The one that listened carefully to every bad thing anyone ever said about her- freak, monster, trash- and quietly stored them away just to take them out again when she’s alone at night. That voice is real loud right now.

It tells her she’s imagining things, that she’s just looking for another way to be different. That Stevie will just think she’s trying to copy her, and worse than that, she’s copying her badly. It whispers that sure, Stevie liked her as a guy, thought she was attractive then, but she’s probably going to be so ugly as a girl that any attraction Stevie’s managed to muster for her weird lanky man-body is gonna just shrivel up and die. And she doesn’t even really like girly things, which she knows because she dressed up as Frank N Furter that one time they all went to see Rocky Horror, and the makeup had felt gross on her skin and the corset had been too tight and the heels had hurt- and if she’s not gonna commit to femininity what’s even the point of trying to tell people she’s a girl?

Eddie is so lost in her own head that it takes her a second to realise that Stevie has gotten out of bed. Eddie sits up, watching in confusion as her girlfriend flits around the room in search of her clothes.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks, her voice small. “Wh- what are you doing?”

Stevie sighs, shakes her head a little. “What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie?” Her voice sounds watery, and she won’t look Eddie in the eyes, using her voluminous hair as a shield as she pulls up her jeans with shaking hands.

Eddie’s heart breaks. She doesn’t think she ever expected this, that Stevie would just leave, even on her darkest nights alone. “But- why?”

Stevie finally looks at her then, her face incredulous even as it’s streaked with tears. “Why? Why would I stay, Eddie, if this- what, was it just- just bullshit?” she says, getting more heated as she speaks, hands flying in that way Eddie usually loves because it means her girl is really getting riled up. Now it feels terrible to see, like the final nail in Eddie’s coffin.

“I can’t believe- fuck- this is the second time I thought- I mean it’s gotta be me at this point, right? Like, fool me once-” Stevie cuts herself off with a sob, before scrubbing her face furiously and looking around the room. “Where the fuck is my jacket???”

“I don’t- what do you mean, second time-”

Stevie scoffs. “I mean, sure, you didn’t actually say the word ‘bullshit’ but that’s- you see how it’s the same right? Like, even if you didn’t- if you didn’t want me anymore, how could you-? You knew about Nancy, Eddie, and you still just-” She scrubs her face again and heads to the door. “You know what, fuck my jacket.”

And Eddie is not the smartest. Her three senior years can attest to this. But she can tell she’s missing something here, because what the hell does Nancy have to do with anything? So Eddie goes over the last couple of minutes, everything Stevie said, everything she said, and- oh. Fuck.

“I forgot the second part of that sentence.”

She literally cannot believe how stupid she is. Stevie’s already out the bedroom door, and Eddie prays to every god who’s never believed in her that she hasn’t left the trailer entirely, because fuck knows if she has Eddie will probably never see her again. At least not for several months, and even then, only with Robin standing off to the side trying to kill her with her mind.

“Stevie!” She calls, running through the trailer at a speed she frankly didn’t think herself capable of. “Stevie, please wait! I didn’t mean to- I forgot the rest of the sentence!”

Stevie stops at the door of the trailer, turns around with an eyebrow raised in the kind of ‘I’m waiting, make it good’ expression she uses whenever the kids try to explain why they were acting like little shits this time. It’s ruined a bit, by the tears still streaming down her face and the tremble in her disapproving frown, but she’s trying.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I was trying to say- I didn’t even realise how it sounded- I love you so much and I’m sorry I made you doubt that for even a second,” Eddie pleads, her own tears running down her face.

Something in Stevie’s posture seems to soften a little, but her hand stays on the doorknob. “What- what else would you be trying to say there, Eddie?”

“I-” Eddie can’t look at her, so she looks at her own feet. “I’m not your boy, I’m your- I don’t really know. Girl? Something? Uh. If you still want me to be.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Eddie doesn’t look away from her feet.

But then, strong, warm arms wrap around her. A hand gently pushes her head into a neck. A pair of lips press into the top of her head.

“Oh E- baby,” Stevie says, softly. “I love you so much, no matter what. Of course you can be my girl, if you want.”

Eddie nods into Stevie’s neck, holding her so tight she’d be a little worried about hurting her if she wasn’t well aware Stevie was way stronger than she’d ever be. “Yes please,” she says, voice small.

Stevie presses another kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, pulls back to hold her face gently in her hands. “Love you so much, baby. And it’s with love that I have to ask- what the hell is wrong with you.” Eddie snorts, and Stevie smiles like that’s what she was aiming for. “That was the worst coming-out I’ve ever seen. And I’m including the way I came out to Dustin.”

Eddie fully laughs then, and Stevie smiles too. That really had been awful. Dustin had found Stevie’s collection of feminine clothes and underwear and had taken it upon himself to lecture her on how weird it was to keep ‘souvenirs’, until eventually Stevie had been so mortified by the picture he was painting that she had to come out just to get him to shut up. He’d since made up for it by being her staunchest defender (Eddie and Robin notwithstanding), but the whole thing was still painful enough that whenever he was being annoying Stevie could now get him to shut up with just a particularly pointed look.

“I know, it was- I got all up in my head,” Eddie says. She places her hand over Stevie’s, gently turns her head to place an apologetic kiss on her wrist, right against her pulse point. “I really am sorry. I love you.”

“I know. Now, at least. Although I hope you realise I’m gonna be using this against you for like, the rest of our lives. Good luck trying to get me to turn off the ABBA, considering you very briefly broke my heart.”

Eddie groans, just like Stevie wanted her too, but honestly ‘the rest of our lives’ sounds pretty good to her.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #t4t steddie #transfem eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fics

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 4 months

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Birthday Sex - Wes Hicks

Minors DNI - Please don't read if you're under 18!

Wes Hicks x F!Reader

This contains smut

Let's pretend for a second that Wes didn't die at the hands of Ghostface.

A/N: I had a smut blog forever ago that I just stopped writing for. If anyone has a request, please feel free to send them my way! (I'll have a separate post including what I will and won't write)

It’s Wes’ 19th birthday, and the only thing he wants for his birthday is you.

“Babe, we need to go back downstairs!” You said, as Wes continued to kiss your neck.

“But it’s my birthday,” he whined between kisses.

“We have to go eat cake,” you said, before he smirked.

“I’d rather eat you.”

It took a few minutes to convince your boyfriend that he needed to return to his party. Once you reminded him that his mom was downstairs, he finally agreed.

He was mingling with a couple friends, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. The dancing you were doing with Tara, the way you licked the icing off your fingers from the cake you were eating, the flirty glances you gave him from time to time. He was going crazy, caught up in the thoughts of you bent over every piece of furniture you came in the vicinity of.

After a couple hours, the party started to die off, and his mom had gone to bed. He couldn’t wait any longer to have you to himself. Once the last few straggling friends cleared out, his lips were on yours. He wasted no time, leading you to the basement door.

“Why are we going down here?” You asked, as he pressed you against it, kissing your neck.

“Because I can’t fuck you the way I want to if my mom’s two doors down the hall from us.” You moaned lightly at his words as your heart began to race.

Once you made it down to the basement, you both started shedding clothes. He pushed you back on the couch, the cool cushions giving you cold chills on your hot skin.

He attacked your chest, gently licking and sucking your nipples. You were trying so hard not to moan, and Wes started to get frustrated.

“I wanna hear you, baby,” he said, kissing back up your chest to your neck. You still tried to fight it, because the last thing you wanted was to wake his mom, even if you were as far away from her in the house as possible.

Unsatisfied with your silence, he reached his hands between your legs, rubbing your clit. You couldn’t suppress the moans any longer as they started to flood out of your mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he said lowly, before replacing his fingers with his mouth.

“Oh fuck, Wes,” you gasped as he lightly sucked on your clit.

“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled against you as he slid a finger inside you, then adding another. Your breathing got heavier, your moans got louder. Your brain couldn’t process thoughts, just how good he was making you feel. Your legs started to shake as he moved his fingers faster.

“Wes, I’m gonna-“ before you could finish your words, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. He pinned your hips down as he got you through it, gently licking your clit.

Once you came back down from your high, he stood up, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your lips. That wasn’t enough for you, you were craving him. You pulled him down on top of you, the kiss becoming way more intense. You felt his length pressing against you.

“Baby, it’s your birthday. Let me take care of you,” you whispered against his lips. He hesitantly got off you, taking a seat beside you. He wanted to be inside of you so bad, but he also loved the way your mouth felt around him.

You sat on the floor in front of him, gently stroking his hardened cock. He leaned his head back when you put him in your mouth, gasping as you started to go down on him. After several minutes of you giving him the best head you’ve ever given him, he asked you to stop.

“Baby, as much as I’m loving this, I want to cum in you,” you felt the wetness pooling between your thighs at his words. You smirked as you stood up, him grabbing at your hands to pull you to straddle him.

As you slowly sank down onto him, you both whispered “Oh fuck,” as he filled you up. You sat there for a minute, giving yourself a second to adjust to his length stretching you out. Once you started grinding on him, his hands started to help you move your hips.

“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” he said between his heavy breathing. You soon felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach, as you started to move faster. Wes reached between the two of you, rubbing your clit. He knew you were close as your moans got louder, and the grip on his shoulders got tighter.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” His words sent you over the edge, tensing up and tightening around him. He repositioned you so you were on your back as he fucked you through your orgasm. He was so close himself, only needing a few more pumps into you before he moaned all kinds expletives in your ear and relaxed on top of you.

“I love you,” he whispered, as you both got up to get dressed.

“I love you too, baby.”

#wes hicks #scream smut #smut #scream #wes hicks x reader

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 11 months

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Azul Ashengrotto - "Love You, for You"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Another cute but super duper short little post for the most perfect, precious and beautiful boy in Twisted Wonderland, Azul Ashengrotto.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

My dearest Azul,

You may not believe me when I write you this, but you are the most lovely creature I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon. You have such an effect on me; your mere presence shakes me to my core with such ferocity that I can't articulate myself. I get so toungue tied and my previous thoughts are flushed out and replaced with tidal waves of you.

Truly your beautiful mind is what I admire most. You are so intelligent, so observant, so perceptive and it makes my swoon to see you so focused when you work. Your eyes, the window to your very soul, never fail to hold my gaze captive with their beautiful silver-blue color and thick lashes that shade them from the lamp light. Your lips that look so soft, they call to me and fill me with a desire burning deep in my soul. I could list everything I love about you in this letter, and I would love to, but I'm afraid it would be so long that you wouldn't be able to read this in one sitting.

None the less, I noticed you seem not to notice all of these wonderful things that make you the person you are. No, you notice them, you just don't think they're as wonderful as I do. You are wrong about that. I don't understand what has caused you to hold such hatred for yourself when you are such a lovely man. You are absolutely breathtaking.

It's hard to accept one's self if they never had the initiative to in the first place. I understand, that's what I'm here for. I shall send you letters every single day if I must. If you just can't find the will to do it on your own, I will love you for you.

Sincerely,

Your Secret Admirer.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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inafieldofdaisies · 1 month

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(WIP) Music Monday Tag | Tagged by @simplegenius042

The rules: Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it. I’m also including the lyrics.

I can play dirty, I won't have no mercy Drop a match on my white flag, burn it down, lay it on my grave I can be nasty, shoot you down in a backstreet Run the town, favorite blonde vigilante Blood on my guilty hands I'll go pour a drink, man, 'cause it's Friday Done with thinking, just wanna party Bet it sucks to be you, well, go figure You're the sucker who pulled the trigger Go pour a drink, man, 'cause it's Friday Got my best friend parked in my driveway While I sip gin and juice and fuck with ya Just remember who pulled the trigger

I started in a guarded place I was young, full of faith No one even knew my name But still, I chased, ran the race Do you know what I've been through? I've felt forsaken with lost truths Do you know what I've been through? I can taste triumph With the heart of a lion

You could be the endgame Eye of the hurricane Sleet in the pouring rain You would be the checkmate Loving what we became Riding the tidal wave You could the kingpin Changing the world again Sleep when the day is dead You would be my weakness Loving like Venus Rule the apocalypse

And we got caught in the storm At the end was the key to my heart You were my lover for life Oh, there's no time to sleep Oh, living in a dream So take me to the paradise in your eyes Green like American money You taste just right, sweet like Tennessee honey And we can run away, swimming in the sunlight everyday Oh, paradise in your eyes

Tagging, @strafethesesinners @strangefable @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @la-grosse-patate

@rhettsabbott @marivenah @shellibisshe @purplehairsecretlair @cassietrn

@josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @voidika @imogenkol @finding-comfort-in-rain

@gearvmac @trench-rot @thesingularityseries @hookhearted @onehornedbeast

@justasmolbard @simonxriley @aceghosts @theelderhazelnut @kyber-infinitygems

@carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook and anyone that would like to share some music <3

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thefringespod · 3 days

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Happy #AudioDramaSunday wanderers! Starting off with @tellnotalespod mini ep this week which I'm very late too because I'm terrified of it. I'm actively listening right now and know I will weep. Thanks Leanne for making me cry again 💜

Up next we have @woebegonepod episode 158 which. Made me so fucking feral yall it was so good but it also hurt me incredibly bad I loved it and I will never forgive Dylan for what he's done. Season 14 is so wild already and im loving it. I'm also still relistening to woe.begone and its just as good as the first time. Mikey sounds so young and not nearly as traumatized. I missed that. He's the bear 🐻

I am still making my way through the @podcast-bookclub's Podjam shows! I've listened to 4 so far and they are all so incredible. Starting things off with @working-tidal-pod which is NOT a comedy but IS very fucking good go listen to my friends show go do it now

@thefinderskeeperpod absolutely knocked me out I love it so much already. @madd-vo and @audistorium have made one hell of a show and I cannot wait to hear more of it because gods I'm gnawing on it so much it's so so so fucking good

@spacespeckspod has made a post apocalypse story that doesn't fill me with existential dread (yet <3) I love this group of survivors so much already and want to hear all about them and gods if anything terrible happens I'll sob <3

@theichorousrotpod was the last one I've listened to (so far) and it's another one I'm gnawing on already. I love a fictional mysterious disease and I love hearing what they're doing with it so far. When more is released I WILL become feral I'm so excited

Here on the Fringes I'm getting in recordings for s3 and making my way through rerecording s1 still. I should also have some new commentaries up on patreon.com/pinetreepods for s1 comin soon!

And over on @forgedbondspod we have begun crowdfunding! Crowdfunding means shouting out my cast so if you want to meet the first 5 members of our cast you can head over to our socials now. And if you wanna support the show, you can visit our indiegogo!

That's all for this week! Things are slow and fast all at once over here but I'm excited about everything that's coming up <3

#tales from the fringes of reality #pines notes #recommendation post #audio drama sunday #audiodrama sunday

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anglercrit · 11 months

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Hazbin/Helluva/Vivziepop Critical Community: I Need Your Help!

As I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog before- I wanna hold a bracket where we all share our favorite background design from Helluva/Hazbin or unused characters and turn them into the mascot for the critical community- I’m going to use this post to gather submissions! (You can also submit directly to my blog) So far here’s our two candidates:

Cole/Finn

And

Levi/Tidal!

(Name suggestions for these two will also be taken on this post!)

Reblog, reply, DM me or send me a submission- whatever- with the character you’d like to submit and the name you’re giving them! For characters like the two we have right now or ones multiple people submit, we’ll hold a poll for the name they’ll be under in the poll!

If you got this far thanks- and happy reclaiming!

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #helluva critique #helluva boss critique #vivziepop critical #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel critique #🐟#mascot bracket

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kyzyner · 1 month

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Good Workout

Cross-posted to AO3

18+, Alpha-17 x gender neutral reader

established relationship, working out naked, teasing, massage, penetrative sex (reader receiving), creampie, no thots head empty

Alpha-17 was in the rec room, right where his troopers had said he would be. You’d apparently caught him during a break, as he now sat heavy on the bench, legs spread wide, gulping down water. You were not subtle as you took in the sight of him, naked and wet as the day he’d been pulled from his growth jar, sweat and water streaming down his scarred chest.

Of course he worked out naked, you should have guessed.

“Can I help you?” he asked with a smug look, once he’d finished his drink.

“Um.” Kriff, you had completely forgotten what you’d come for. That, and the gym was uncomfortably warm, even though maintenance had come around just last week to fix the climate controls.

Alpha snorted and toweled off, his biceps bulging. You’d seen plenty of naked clones before, but Alpha displayed himself like he knew he was special. It wasn’t his fault. You had technically walked in on him.

“You just gonna stand there? Or do you wanna make yourself useful and come spot me?”

Useful it was, you decided. Your clothes now felt entirely too warm and constricting, and this was as good an excuse as any to strip down to something more workout-worthy. Alpha watched you, face unreadable, as you efficiently disrobed and positioned yourself, ready and waiting, at the bar.

“You know how to do this, right?” he asked, upside-down, as he locked eyes with you from where he’d laid down on the bench.

“Mm-hm.” If he noticed how warm your face was or how you struggled to hold his gaze in favor of ogling the generous expanse of his body laid out before you, he said nothing.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. His face was set like steel, the tendons in his neck bulging as the muscles in his chest and arms rippled with exertion. He made it look effortless, like he didn’t need your help at all. That meant he was just showing off, the cocky chakaar-

“Eyes down here,” Alpha commanded, without raising his voice in the slightest. “Can’t have you distracted or there’s no point.”

“Yes, sir,” you snapped back automatically. He was right. He may have been built like a rancor, but accidents still happened.

“Count for me?”

You agreed with a nod, counting off his reps in time with his heavy, measured breaths. For the duration of the set, he never broke eye contact. It almost worked: you certainly weren’t distracted by his body this time. Instead, your own voice became background noise to a faint rushing in your ears that peaked every time Alpha’s labored grunts sent jolts through your chest.

He finished the set, and you found you were breathing just as hard as he was. The two of you sat on the bench to cool down, Alpha taking another long swig of water before offering you the canteen with a nudge.

His touch was like being slammed by a tidal wave. Caught off guard, you yelped as something inside you exploded.

“Did you just…” Alpha stared at you incredulously.

Breathing hard, your head cleared enough that you became aware of the warm, sticky mess that was now your underwear.

“Fuck.”

Alpha actually laughed at that, a roaring jubilance that shook the bench like thunder.

“You really need to work on your stamina,” he said, only slightly winded.

“Fuck you, Alpha, you’re too damn sexy,” you shot back indignantly.

“I know.” The smugness was still there, but there was something soft in his eyes as he teased you.

You scowled at him, realizing he’d never give you what you wanted until you stood up to him. Directness was the way to go. Mustering your courage, you squared your shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

“Would you just stick your fat cock in me already?”

“Hmm,” he mused, unhurried and unbothered, like he was mulling the thought over. “Later. I’m busy.”

Two could play at that game.

“Fine. Do you still need me here or are you done lifting?”

“You could hold my feet down while I stretch.”

You sat on the floor, the wet spot in your pants now cold and uncomfortable. Alpha followed, offering you his feet and beginning his stretches.

You’d thought you could play uninterested, but this was somehow worse. He wasn’t even looking at you as you sat between his spread legs with most of your weight on his ankles. From here you could just…

Leaning forward, you placed your chest on his shins and freed your hands to run firmly along the outsides of his thighs. Disciplined as ever, Alpha’s only reaction was a slight hitch in his breath before he continued on.

His thighs were supple, streaked with the marks of his accelerated growth and each as thick around as a rocket launcher. Your fingers pressed and kneaded, massaging everywhere but his gradually hardening cock.

“Up,” he ordered, then flipped over to lay on his stomach. “I need you to sit on my lower back.”

You could do that. While he was turned away, you rid yourself of your soiled bottoms, then planted your weight wetly on his lower back, earning a grunt and a chuckle.

He was stretching his legs behind you, shifting your body slightly as he tensed and relaxed. In front of you, his warm back rose and fell with his breaths, all of his scars on display under the gym lights.

Your hands started low, encouraging him to relax his core and use his hamstrings. You traced his scars, easing out the stiffness beneath them. When you dug your hands into the knots in his shoulders, he almost whined. Almost.

Alpha finished stretching, but said nothing, allowing you to continue working the soreness from his muscles.

“You’re good at that,” he rumbled beneath you, and began expounding on the benefits of massage as if his erection wasn’t painfully trapped between his body and the floor.

“You’re welcome.” You repositioned yourself, leaving a wet trail of arousal along the length of his spine.

“So, you’re ready then?” Alpha asked abruptly.

“Huh?”

He flipped you in an instant, like you’d seen him do to cadets who thought they’d won the upper hand, but your head never slammed against the mat.

“You want this, don’t you?” He stroked his length, letting you stare.

“Please.”

“I suppose you were helpful. You deserve a reward.”

You’d closed your eyes, but you felt him leave, his warmth replaced by moving air and brightness.

“Where-”

“Relax, I’ll be right back. I want to make you feel good.”

You heard his soft, slightly sticky footfalls on the mat, along with the ever-present thrum of the stilt city, only audible with your ear pressed to the floor. Alpha returned shortly, gently spreading your legs and cushioning them on his own thighs, then began working you open with lubed fingers.

“You just have lube in your gym bag?” you questioned.

“What? It’s waterproof, fun to use in the shower.”

“Okay then.”

Alpha slicked himself up and eased inside you.

“Hmm,” you sighed. This was exactly what you’d needed. He filled you perfectly, the stretch bringing nothing but relief.

“Jate?” Alpha asked.

“Jatne.” You rolled your hips in encouragement.

Alpha cradled your hips solidly and lifted them off the floor, thrusting deeply and precisely at a pace that had you drooling. Every time you opened your eyes, he was studying your face intently. He seemed to pick up on your every cue, shifting his hold when your core muscles grew stiff, alternately rolling and grinding into your heat when the pointed stabs became numbing. Laser focused on your pleasure, the only indication he gave that any of this was affecting him was when he asked if he could cum inside you.

“Yes please,” you groaned, surging up to meet him.

“Hold on.”

You did, sitting up slightly as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He met your eyes once.

“I won’t hold back.”

“Don’t you dare hold back.” You deliberately clenched around him and he dove in with a growl.

Up close, you could hear the noises he’d probably been holding back this whole time. He was panting, though controlled like when he ran endurance tests, interspersed with gulps and snorts and little whines.

“I said don’t hold back,” you murmured just beneath his ear, followed by a searing kiss to his neck.

Alpha cried out almost like he’d been hurt, his heavy balls settling against you as the welcome intrusion burst into liquid heat, his orgasm carrying you along like a typhoon. You rocked beneath him, unseeing and unhearing, though you could feel the way you dripped where you spasmed around him uncontrollably.

You kept your eyes closed, breathing in bliss as your heart rate slowed. You barely felt Alpha slip from inside you. Trembling from aftershocks, he lifted you one-handed and wiped up the mess the two of you had left on the mat.

“Whew,” he huffed as he sat down on the bench with you in his lap. “Good workout.”

“Yeah.”

“You good?”

“Yeah.” You stood up, testing your balance.

“I’m gonna hit the showers, then.”

“Okay…”

So that was it. You didn’t even have it in you to be irritated. Dazed, you gathered up your clothes and made to leave.

Just as the fresh air hit your face, you remembered what you’d needed from him in the first place.

Fuck.

“Alpha!”

#clone thirsting #alpha 17 #x reader #alpha 17 x reader #clone trooper x reader #smut #my fic

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