Big Beautiful Dreamer
ridiculously contented
PLEASE READ THIS NOTE before reading the story. At the request of a reader, I have written a gay BHM story. Please do not read the story if this offends you. I hope that the person who was kind enough to make the request finds the story ... and enjoys it ... and I hope others enjoy it as well. Thanks, BBD.
Philip put down the remote and stretched without getting up. He thought about when Robby would get home and whether they would go out. He didnt feel like going out. He didnt feel much of anything, actually. As recently as a few months ago, the thought of Robbys return would have had him barely able to contain himself. The seven-year itch, Philip thought wryly. Theyd been together seven years. Was he destined to be bored for the rest of his life? He sighed so loudly the miniature dachshund on his lap turned her head to look.
Nothing, he said out loud; then, standing up, he watched the dog curl up in the chairs warm spot. He decided to make spaghetti. Going out wouldnt cure anything.
Im home! Robbys timing was perfect. He came up behind Philip, embracing him around the waist as Philip poured the spaghetti blindly into the colander, the steam clouding his eyeglasses. Philip set the pot in the other side of the sink and turned in Robbys loose embrace, kissing him perfunctorily.
Mmm-mmm, spaghetti, Robby said. His eyes twinkled. My favorite. Philip bit his lip. Robby clearly was not feeling the same ennui that he was. The timer buzzed and Philip twisted out of Robbys arms to rescue the garlic bread.
They ate in silence, clinking forks the only sound. Robby was tuned to Philips moods and could tell something was on his mind, but he wasnt going to probe. He would later, though, when they were in bed or sitting on the sofa watching HBO. Philip looked up. You want more?
Thanks. Robby handed his plate over and watched Philip. More than that.
Philip paused, plate in midair, and turned to look at Robby, who was proud of his trim waist.
How much do you want? Philip asked.
Ill finish it off if you dont want any more. And the rest of the garlic bread too.
At that, Philip turned all the way around. Robby? The look on his face was understandable. Robby ate like a bird; he ate so little, in fact, that he kept Philip trim because Philip didnt want to out-eat him. At least, not by much.
Robby sighed and drained his glass of iced tea. Philly. Cmere.
Wait a minute, Philip said patiently. He finished filling Robbys plate, then went over to the stove and poured on the rest of the sauce. He balanced the remaining garlic bread around the edges and presented it to Robby with a small flourish.
Then he sat.
Robby picked up a piece of bread. You know, he said with his mouth full, my waist size is the same .
As it was in college, Philip finished. So? He didnt mean it to come out quite that sharply.
Robby swallowed. Lately Ive been feeling somethings not great between us. Youre bored. And your head turns every time we see the most nothing guys walk past middle-aged, potbellied, out of shape so this afternoon at work, I went online. I did some looking up.
Philip stared. What are you talking about? Ive never cheated on you.
No, you havent, Robby agreed. But youre bored and restless, and youre at least looking at the menu. Anyway, he took a bite of spaghetti, there are some people who prefer, um overweight people. He swallowed. Find them attractive. He blushed, his most appealing attribute. When he did, he always looked about 12 years old. I thought if I, ah, gained weight
Philip stared again, thrusting his head toward Robby, eyes wide. Youre sick, was what he meant to say. But he didnt say it. He leaned closer and found himself kissing Robby. His loins were stirring for the first time in weeks. He came up for air. Uh, he said intelligently. He backed off. Robby was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
Does this mean you approve?
What exactly am I approving of?
Ill put on some weight. See how you like it.
You dont you dont mind?
Philip. I love you, Robby said patiently. Youre worth it to me. He picked up a piece of garlic bread and bit hugely into it as if to seal the deal.
It took a little while, but Robby cleaned his plate, mopping up the sauce with the last of the bread. Afterward, he unbuttoned his jeans and stood up, groaning, rubbing his belly with both hands. His normally flat waist bulged, taut and bloated, straining the seams of his jeans and pulling the buttons of his shirt tight. Philip took one look and got a hard-on so bad he could scarcely stand up. Gently, Robby pulled him up and guided his hand toward that swollen midriff.
Philip and Robby stood opposite each other in the kitchen, Robby with his head back and arms limp by his sides, Philip gently and steadily massaging Robbys aching stomach and points south. Finally, like waltzing bears, they galumphed toward the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Philip undid the buttons of Robbys shirt with such haste that two popped off, the first time that had happened since Christmas. They wiggled out of their clothes and grabbed each other, firmly, afraid to lose each other. Grunting, thrashing, their coupling was frantic the first time. Later, sated, relaxed, they made love again, languidly, fluidly, contentedly.
So, Robby said drowsily.
So, Philip repeated.
Am I right?
Philip propped himself up on his elbows. I wouldnt have said so, he said thoughtfully. Wouldnt have been able to spell it out. Its true Ive been restless. I didnt realize Ive had the wandering eye. He turned to look at Robby, still lying down with the sheet draped over his now deflated belly. When you told me at dinner you wanted to to
Get fat, Robby prompted.
Um, to gain weight my mind thought you were sick. My dick thought it was party time. He laughed shortly.
No kidding, Robby said dryly. This time they both laughed. So?
So, Philip repeated. So I guess maybe thats what I want. But I dont want you to do anything you dont want to do.
Robby sat up and looked at Philip. Im 35. Im not on the dating market. I love you. And you love me but at the same time youre ready for something new. I dont mind giving it a try.
The next morning, both men were rushed, but as they headed out the door, Philip to the subway and Robby with his bicycle, Philip asked, What do you want for dinner?
Robby paused for thought. Pot roast? Philip groaned, but said, All right, and patted Robbys belly, making them both laugh.
Philip left work early (it was, after all, his law practice; he could leave early if he wanted to, he thought) and stopped in at a supermarket, where he got a good-looking roast as well as potatoes, a bunch of carrots, and an onion. An hour later, the roast was in the oven and Philip found himself whistling, cheerier than hed been in some time.
At supper, Philip heaped Robbys plate and winked as he handed it to him. Bone appetee-it, he said, deliberately mispronouncing the French. Robby lifted his glass to Philips in a toast. Heres to, um, spare tires, he said.
For the first time in a while, conversation was natural and unforced. Philip had had an unexciting day among the paperwork of estate law, but Robby, a forensic DNA analyst, told Philip as much as he was allowed to about work he was doing on a possible murder case. And while he talked he ate. He cleaned his plateful not once but twice, although he was slowing down toward the end. Leaning back, he patted his bulging belly, bringing up a loud belch. Philip laughed and a satisfied smile lit Robbys face. Hed again had to unbutton his jeans, and his stomach sagged heavily over the waistband, swollen with food.
Thats gotta hurt, Philip observed.
Robby belched. Ate too much, he admitted, Pretty stuffed. But not too full for some exercise. Philip was out of his chair and headed toward the bedroom before Robby finished his sentence. Grinning, Robby struggled to his feet and huffed toward the bedroom to join him.
It didnt take long for the effects to show. Robby still cycled to work and back every day, but he was eating a lot more, and both men were seeing results. Within a month, that trim waistline was noticeably thicker, a pot belly burgeoning over his waistband and underwear starting to pinch. Three months, and the modest pot belly was no longer modest, perching atop the waistband and descending to an unmistakable spare tire. Robbys once-firm chin softened into a double, unremarkable pecs softened and spread, his face became fuller. Most of the newfound weight was in his gut, however, and both he and Philip were impressed with what a difference it made in bed.
They liked to make love best after supper, priming the pump, as Robby put it. His tummy full and round, he would lie back and let Philip poke, pinch, massage and knead the bloated swell of stomach. The poking would become cuddling, a long session of foreplay, and better sex than theyd enjoyed in months. The relationship was reborn. They delighted in waking up next to each other, went on date nights more often, and even talked about going to Canada to get married.
It was a Friday night, and Philip had talked Robby into a slow striptease. Robby had eaten an entire pizza and drunk most of a bottle of pop, and his gut was impressive. His full face and both chins gleamed with sweat, his shirt buttons strained like a cartoon characters, and his pants were both unbuttoned and unzipped, his belly bulging tautly outward. Philip, settled on the bed to watch, sang raunchy music while Robby gyrated, grinning. Button by button the shirt was unfastened. Philip imagined the buttons sighing in relief. Robby jerked the shirt off and twirled it over his head. Philip whistled loudly. The sight of Robby shirtless was making him seriously hard. Robbys nipples bobbed and his abdomen spread outward, creating an enticing dome, crowned with his now-outie of a belly button. His spare tire jounced and the new flesh on his upper arms swung as he danced.
He couldnt unbutton his jeans, of course, but he made a production out of shaking himself out of them, revealing this large with bike-riding muscle and extra flab and a pair of tightie whities that lived up to the name. Slowly, slowly, he peeled the underwear off. Philip whistled again as Robbys gut surged forth. Unable to stand it any more, he bounced off the bed and began rubbing Robbys belly, poking and prodding it. There was little if any give to it; it was hard as a rock. So was Philip, come to think of it.
The striptease over, Robby, sweating, fell onto the bed, making the frame shake. Im so (hic!) full, he panted. Cant move. (Hic!)
Shh, Philip said, closing his mouth with a kiss. Let me take care of you. Slowly and gently he stroked Robby to hardness; revving up, he brought him to climax. Exhausted himself, he lay back, head on Robbys chest, gently stroking Robbys round, achingly full belly. My tummy, he murmured. Love it.
So, Robby said.
So.
Want to keep it?
Philips answer was wordless.
Philip put down the remote and stretched without getting up. He thought about when Robby would get home and whether they would go out. He didnt feel like going out. He didnt feel much of anything, actually. As recently as a few months ago, the thought of Robbys return would have had him barely able to contain himself. The seven-year itch, Philip thought wryly. Theyd been together seven years. Was he destined to be bored for the rest of his life? He sighed so loudly the miniature dachshund on his lap turned her head to look.
Nothing, he said out loud; then, standing up, he watched the dog curl up in the chairs warm spot. He decided to make spaghetti. Going out wouldnt cure anything.
Im home! Robbys timing was perfect. He came up behind Philip, embracing him around the waist as Philip poured the spaghetti blindly into the colander, the steam clouding his eyeglasses. Philip set the pot in the other side of the sink and turned in Robbys loose embrace, kissing him perfunctorily.
Mmm-mmm, spaghetti, Robby said. His eyes twinkled. My favorite. Philip bit his lip. Robby clearly was not feeling the same ennui that he was. The timer buzzed and Philip twisted out of Robbys arms to rescue the garlic bread.
They ate in silence, clinking forks the only sound. Robby was tuned to Philips moods and could tell something was on his mind, but he wasnt going to probe. He would later, though, when they were in bed or sitting on the sofa watching HBO. Philip looked up. You want more?
Thanks. Robby handed his plate over and watched Philip. More than that.
Philip paused, plate in midair, and turned to look at Robby, who was proud of his trim waist.
How much do you want? Philip asked.
Ill finish it off if you dont want any more. And the rest of the garlic bread too.
At that, Philip turned all the way around. Robby? The look on his face was understandable. Robby ate like a bird; he ate so little, in fact, that he kept Philip trim because Philip didnt want to out-eat him. At least, not by much.
Robby sighed and drained his glass of iced tea. Philly. Cmere.
Wait a minute, Philip said patiently. He finished filling Robbys plate, then went over to the stove and poured on the rest of the sauce. He balanced the remaining garlic bread around the edges and presented it to Robby with a small flourish.
Then he sat.
Robby picked up a piece of bread. You know, he said with his mouth full, my waist size is the same .
As it was in college, Philip finished. So? He didnt mean it to come out quite that sharply.
Robby swallowed. Lately Ive been feeling somethings not great between us. Youre bored. And your head turns every time we see the most nothing guys walk past middle-aged, potbellied, out of shape so this afternoon at work, I went online. I did some looking up.
Philip stared. What are you talking about? Ive never cheated on you.
No, you havent, Robby agreed. But youre bored and restless, and youre at least looking at the menu. Anyway, he took a bite of spaghetti, there are some people who prefer, um overweight people. He swallowed. Find them attractive. He blushed, his most appealing attribute. When he did, he always looked about 12 years old. I thought if I, ah, gained weight
Philip stared again, thrusting his head toward Robby, eyes wide. Youre sick, was what he meant to say. But he didnt say it. He leaned closer and found himself kissing Robby. His loins were stirring for the first time in weeks. He came up for air. Uh, he said intelligently. He backed off. Robby was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
Does this mean you approve?
What exactly am I approving of?
Ill put on some weight. See how you like it.
You dont you dont mind?
Philip. I love you, Robby said patiently. Youre worth it to me. He picked up a piece of garlic bread and bit hugely into it as if to seal the deal.
It took a little while, but Robby cleaned his plate, mopping up the sauce with the last of the bread. Afterward, he unbuttoned his jeans and stood up, groaning, rubbing his belly with both hands. His normally flat waist bulged, taut and bloated, straining the seams of his jeans and pulling the buttons of his shirt tight. Philip took one look and got a hard-on so bad he could scarcely stand up. Gently, Robby pulled him up and guided his hand toward that swollen midriff.
Philip and Robby stood opposite each other in the kitchen, Robby with his head back and arms limp by his sides, Philip gently and steadily massaging Robbys aching stomach and points south. Finally, like waltzing bears, they galumphed toward the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Philip undid the buttons of Robbys shirt with such haste that two popped off, the first time that had happened since Christmas. They wiggled out of their clothes and grabbed each other, firmly, afraid to lose each other. Grunting, thrashing, their coupling was frantic the first time. Later, sated, relaxed, they made love again, languidly, fluidly, contentedly.
So, Robby said drowsily.
So, Philip repeated.
Am I right?
Philip propped himself up on his elbows. I wouldnt have said so, he said thoughtfully. Wouldnt have been able to spell it out. Its true Ive been restless. I didnt realize Ive had the wandering eye. He turned to look at Robby, still lying down with the sheet draped over his now deflated belly. When you told me at dinner you wanted to to
Get fat, Robby prompted.
Um, to gain weight my mind thought you were sick. My dick thought it was party time. He laughed shortly.
No kidding, Robby said dryly. This time they both laughed. So?
So, Philip repeated. So I guess maybe thats what I want. But I dont want you to do anything you dont want to do.
Robby sat up and looked at Philip. Im 35. Im not on the dating market. I love you. And you love me but at the same time youre ready for something new. I dont mind giving it a try.
The next morning, both men were rushed, but as they headed out the door, Philip to the subway and Robby with his bicycle, Philip asked, What do you want for dinner?
Robby paused for thought. Pot roast? Philip groaned, but said, All right, and patted Robbys belly, making them both laugh.
Philip left work early (it was, after all, his law practice; he could leave early if he wanted to, he thought) and stopped in at a supermarket, where he got a good-looking roast as well as potatoes, a bunch of carrots, and an onion. An hour later, the roast was in the oven and Philip found himself whistling, cheerier than hed been in some time.
At supper, Philip heaped Robbys plate and winked as he handed it to him. Bone appetee-it, he said, deliberately mispronouncing the French. Robby lifted his glass to Philips in a toast. Heres to, um, spare tires, he said.
For the first time in a while, conversation was natural and unforced. Philip had had an unexciting day among the paperwork of estate law, but Robby, a forensic DNA analyst, told Philip as much as he was allowed to about work he was doing on a possible murder case. And while he talked he ate. He cleaned his plateful not once but twice, although he was slowing down toward the end. Leaning back, he patted his bulging belly, bringing up a loud belch. Philip laughed and a satisfied smile lit Robbys face. Hed again had to unbutton his jeans, and his stomach sagged heavily over the waistband, swollen with food.
Thats gotta hurt, Philip observed.
Robby belched. Ate too much, he admitted, Pretty stuffed. But not too full for some exercise. Philip was out of his chair and headed toward the bedroom before Robby finished his sentence. Grinning, Robby struggled to his feet and huffed toward the bedroom to join him.
It didnt take long for the effects to show. Robby still cycled to work and back every day, but he was eating a lot more, and both men were seeing results. Within a month, that trim waistline was noticeably thicker, a pot belly burgeoning over his waistband and underwear starting to pinch. Three months, and the modest pot belly was no longer modest, perching atop the waistband and descending to an unmistakable spare tire. Robbys once-firm chin softened into a double, unremarkable pecs softened and spread, his face became fuller. Most of the newfound weight was in his gut, however, and both he and Philip were impressed with what a difference it made in bed.
They liked to make love best after supper, priming the pump, as Robby put it. His tummy full and round, he would lie back and let Philip poke, pinch, massage and knead the bloated swell of stomach. The poking would become cuddling, a long session of foreplay, and better sex than theyd enjoyed in months. The relationship was reborn. They delighted in waking up next to each other, went on date nights more often, and even talked about going to Canada to get married.
It was a Friday night, and Philip had talked Robby into a slow striptease. Robby had eaten an entire pizza and drunk most of a bottle of pop, and his gut was impressive. His full face and both chins gleamed with sweat, his shirt buttons strained like a cartoon characters, and his pants were both unbuttoned and unzipped, his belly bulging tautly outward. Philip, settled on the bed to watch, sang raunchy music while Robby gyrated, grinning. Button by button the shirt was unfastened. Philip imagined the buttons sighing in relief. Robby jerked the shirt off and twirled it over his head. Philip whistled loudly. The sight of Robby shirtless was making him seriously hard. Robbys nipples bobbed and his abdomen spread outward, creating an enticing dome, crowned with his now-outie of a belly button. His spare tire jounced and the new flesh on his upper arms swung as he danced.
He couldnt unbutton his jeans, of course, but he made a production out of shaking himself out of them, revealing this large with bike-riding muscle and extra flab and a pair of tightie whities that lived up to the name. Slowly, slowly, he peeled the underwear off. Philip whistled again as Robbys gut surged forth. Unable to stand it any more, he bounced off the bed and began rubbing Robbys belly, poking and prodding it. There was little if any give to it; it was hard as a rock. So was Philip, come to think of it.
The striptease over, Robby, sweating, fell onto the bed, making the frame shake. Im so (hic!) full, he panted. Cant move. (Hic!)
Shh, Philip said, closing his mouth with a kiss. Let me take care of you. Slowly and gently he stroked Robby to hardness; revving up, he brought him to climax. Exhausted himself, he lay back, head on Robbys chest, gently stroking Robbys round, achingly full belly. My tummy, he murmured. Love it.
So, Robby said.
So.
Want to keep it?
Philips answer was wordless.