"Jake's New Regimen" by Exjockfeeder. Part I chapter 5: Weekend Revelations (Patreon)

After getting the waiter's help to load the food into his truck, Jake struggled to focus on the road to drive home. His belly had never felt so full. It pressed out hard in every direction like a heavy medicine ball on his lap. It pushed firmly into the steering wheel when he reached to release the brake. He drove along, head back on the headrest, one hand on the wheel, the other on the top ledge of his gut. When he got home, he let out a sigh of relief, but sat behind the wheel for a few more minutes, eyes shut, resting for the effort of hauling his bulk back out of the truck. He finally hoisted himself out of the truck, with two conflicting responses as his mass hit the ground with a thud. "Okay, that's it. I gotta let up on the chowin'. I'm eatin' light this weekend." his silently vowed ¬ as he reached down under his hovering belly to shift his throbbing erection.

Jake shed his strained clothes and dropped down onto the couch. He looked down at the mound of his belly, running his hands over its bigger arc as he drifted off into to a long nap.

Hours later, he came too. He was still slouched on the couch, legs spread, hand on his belly, which was still pushing out to full size despite the rest. Jake starting rubbing his stomach a bit before opening his eyes. A gentle contented moan came at the feel of the arcing bulge. It was dark out, but one lamp lit the room. "Must be the middle of the night," he thought. "How long have I slept?"

Reluctantly, he took his hands off his belly. His powerful arms pushed his bulk up from the couch, but he stood there for a second, getting his balance, focusing on the room to find the clock. 2:30 in the morning. "Shit, I guess I needed to sleep that lunch off," he thought. One hand went to his belly again, checking how big it felt. His gorging session at lunch was still obvious, but at least he felt like he could breathe now. He caught his reflection in the television. Jake spread his legs into the habitual batter's stance, but facing the screen. He bent his legs and rocked his shoulders back, bouncing his belly a little for his own enjoyment. Before he knew it, his cock was smacking up against the base of his gut and he was heading for the kitchen. Without bothering to sit down, he stood at the counter, tearing into the boxes of leftovers, shoving food in his mouth with one hand while stroking his thick dick with the other. Moans and full-mouthed grunts were all that could be heard. Jake stuffed himself without letting up, only looking down to check out how much his belly was jutting out. He would rest for a second, breathing deeply to make more room as he thumped his belly, then dig into the next box. Like focusing on the next rep, he pushed through until he had packed in every box of food. With the last mouthful, he shot all over the kitchen floor and lumbered off to bed, checking out his even bigger belly in the mirror on the way.

When he woke again, the sun was blazing into the bedroom. His meaty shoulders and pecs showed above the white sheet, which tented up to follow the mound of his belly. Jake rolled on his side to check the clock. He felt his belly press against the bed. This was the first time he admitted it did that when he rolled. It made him grin. Another contented moan, but his rational brain tried to override that. To stiffen his resolve, he gave himself audible instructions. "Gotta hit the gym today before this gets outta control." He rolled out of bed and went to take a whiz. All he could see was gut when he looked down. When he was done, he was again transfixed at the sight of his fat swell in the mirror. He never thought he'd look so big. He studied every curve as his tight round belly hovered in front of him. "Okay my friend," he said patting his paunch, "we've had our fun but we gotta be good for a while now."

He rustled around for some gym clothes that would fit. His shorts hugged his beefy ass and thighs but at least covered them - barely. A shirt was a different matter. He found the longest tank top he had and tugged it over his belly. Even this one barely made it to his waist and grabbed him like a tight sausage casing. He shrugged his shoulders. "Best I can do with this thing today." And with that, he shuffled off to the car.

But on the way to the gym, Jake caved and stopped at a drive through for a big bag of breakfast sandwiches. He rationalized that he needed energy to lift and ordered six fattening biscuits, eating as he drove and lingering in the gym parking lot to finish them off. He rested for a second, then finally got out of the car and trudged through the locker room into the weight area.

It was still quiet in the gym, so Jake pumped his chest and arms in peace for about 40 minutes. After each rep, he had to reach down to yank his tank back over the bottom of his gut. He had to fight his erection as he felt his big muscles contract with each movement as his shirt edged up his big belly.

He tried some squats but had to stop right away. The feel of his belly hitting his thighs was too much to take. He went back to work his big biceps more. He fought to only look at the muscle he was working in the mirror. Any indulgence to check out his entire body made him want to leave and eat. "Gotta be good. Gotta be good." He struggled to hold to that resolve. Lifting was always easy for him to push hard on. Not eating whatever he wanted, no way, and now he wanted to do nothing but chow ¬ the reward for the workout. As his belly stared back at him, he found it even more tempting. He was working so hard to focus, he didn't see anyone else ¬ until he stood up from the weight bench and nearly knocked over a friend of his with his gut.

"Watch it man!" the guy's eyebrows raised high at the sight of the beefed up jock. "Shit ¬ Jake, is that you? What the fuck have you been eating, Fatboy? Look at the size of you man!"

Jake jarred out of his own world and recognized his friend. "Oh, um, hey, Mark. How goes?"

"Well I'm good, despite about being plowed over. Where the fuck have you been, beside apparently eating like a prize hog? I haven't seen you in months and barely recognized you with this gut. Guess you haven't been at the gym, buddy." Mark was smacking Jake's belly with the back of his hand as his talked. Jake fought his arousal and tried to be cool.

"No man, I've been lifting like usual. Just kinda on a different schedule lately."

"Yeah, a fucking kinda eating more schedule from the looks of you."

"Um yeah, maybe some. Nothing I can't control."

"Shit, well the size of this gut says otherwise. You're getting fucking FAT dude!"

Jake's shorts tightened.

"I know you like to eat buddy, but you better get this in control. You look like someone is pumping this thing up like a basketball." Mark grabbed the sides of Jake's belly hard. "Shit ¬ feels even bigger, if that's possible." Jake wanted to lean into Mark's grip but knew he had to pull back.

"Naw man. Just been letting myself enjoy a little less ass busting practice for a change. I guess I've gained a few. Nothing I can't take care of when I want. Gimme a break man."

"Well, Jake, all I'm saying is you are looking seriously porked. This gut looks like way more than a few pounds. Maybe a few dozen! I'd say you better hit more cardio fast before this thing gets any more of out control. Before you know it, you'll be one of those former jocks that everyone knows for his giant beer gut, not his batting record."

Getting Fat, Porked. Fatboy. Giant Gut. The words were making Jake more and more turned on. Good thing the shadow of his belly hid it from Mark. He didn't know why this drove him crazy to hear. All he knew was that he'd been more turned on this week than he'd been in years. He awkwardly cleared his throat and stepped fully away from Mark's belly pats.

"Don't worry man. I, uh, should get moving, I suppose. We should grab beers sometime."

"Heh. Beer is about that LAST thing this gut needs, but okay buddy. Give me a ring Fatboy, and watch this thing, huh? Shit." Mark whistled at the size of Jake's belly. Again, a gut smack, and he was gone.

Jake cut his workout short, heading back through the locker room. He backtracked to the scale, too curious not to check. This time, he landed on the plate without any hesitation. He really wanted to know. There was no sucking his gut in as he shoved the weight plates right out to 275. No reading yet. His dick jumped. He nudged the plates up a touch. They teetered. Jake held his breath waiting for them to level. They balanced at 281. "Whoooooa." Jake did the math. "Fuckin' A. Thirteen pounds in a week? That can't be, can it?" He looked down at the size of his growing ball gut. It most certainly can.

With that, he took off for an early lunch, a lunch as big as ever. After lunch, he hit the grocery store and loaded up his cart to the top. His gut was bumping the cart handle as he trolled the aisles throwing anything that looked good to him in the basket. He would barely let himself admit what he was doing; he was making plans to gorge the rest of the weekend. He made a revised deal to cut back come Monday, when he headed to work, but in the meantime, fuck it. Enjoy the weekend. He won't have time to eat like this when he's working. One last hurray and THEN I'll be good.

To be continued.