Clive’s apprentice [Gaining]

Story created by Original Gainer Stories. You can find more in his tumblr profile.

To say that Justin had fallen in love with his boss straight away was a little overstating things. During the informal interview, he was too busy trying not to stumble over his words and seem like a complete idiot. But then came the actual job; working with Clive every day and climbing into his van each morning, ready to head to whichever house they were painting that day.

Justin had never experienced this level of attraction to someone before. Boys? Girls? He could take or leave either of them. But then along came Clive. He could remember sitting in the van trying not to stare at the handsome, round gut that sat in his boss’ lap, like some sort of beach ball; bouncing ever so subtly as they took the rougher roads. It drove him wild. Then there were the times that he would see Clive reaching for a tricky spot when painting; the large underbelly on full display and his round, well-padded ass almost slipping out of his pants. But having survived the day, he would then have to sit in the van again, heading home, smelling the musky scent of the large man driving next to him; or watch him stopping for a ‘light snack’, gorging himself by the side of the road.

Clive was twenty years older than Justin; a straight, divorced, father of two - hardly a potential interest a 22 year old. No, Justin would simply have to pine for his big-bellied boss in silence; not really understanding why he found the 350lb man so attractive. Was it his size? His masculinity? The power of being the boss? Justin realised he may never know.

“Thanks for coming over,” greeted a client on Justin’s first morning. “Please, take a seat,” she smiled, pointing at two chairs for them both.

Justin sat himself down happily but noticed that Clive had failed to do the same. He looked across at the heavy-set man looking at the chair suspiciously. “Nah, you’re alright,” he grunted at last. “I’ll stand. I can’t see that thing holding me.”

Covering his crotch with his arms and leaning forwards, Justin wondered why he was so turned on. Was it the thought of the massive man breaking a chair that was doing it for him? Or was it his large presence just behind them? He had only been working for him for a couple of hours and already things seemed to be getting out of control.

“Is that all you’re having for your lunch?” asked Clive that day, through a mouthful of his fourth sandwich.

Justin looked down at his puny meal and single apple, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. “Yeah,” he shrugged, very aware of the large amount of food that Clive had brought with him.

Clive shook his head in disgust. “No wonder you’re such a scrawny little guy,” he grunted between mouthfuls, with no intention of sharing any of his feast.

Maybe it was the way Clive owned his food; the way he devoured everything in his bag each day, without a single thought. Clive was a big, hungry, larger than life man who dominated every room he went into. How could Justin not fall for him?

“I don’t eat much,” Justin tried to explain; unsure what he was supposed to say.

“No shit,” Clive simply huffed in response. He had hardly been welcoming all morning. Indeed, he was not exactly the easiest person to get along with either. He regarded Justin with irritation and impatience, making it clear to him that he had only hired him because his old partner had deserted him to start a rival painting and decorating business. Justin was a necessary evil to ensure that Clive could get back to his beer and football by the end of the day.

Justin packed a little more in his lunch box the next day. He needed to build bridges with his boss if he were ever going to make a go of working for him; he couldn’t afford to do anything that would make his boss think less of him. Clive prided himself on his big, manly appetite; endlessly pointing out good eating places as they drove to locations. And, after a couple of weeks, Clive’s snide little remarks about Justin’s meagre lunches started to disappear. Justin seemed to have hit on the right amount of food to pack in order to keep Clive off his back; not that it wasn’t hard to eat such a big lunch and do such a physical job, but that was nothing compared to the challenge of watching the real big man eat and not cast admiring glances his way.

As the weeks went by, Justin relaxed around his boss and the feeling appeared to be almost mutual. Clive was less prickly than before and, with a little more interaction, the pair found that they did have a least a few things in common, despite their different ages.

“Jeez, I’m starving today!” Clive complained, looking out of the window of the house they were decorating. There was a fast food place within sight and Justin rolled his eyes, realising that Clive was about to do his usual trick of disappearing to get some food, leaving him all on his own.

“Go on then,” he sighed. “I can handle things here for a bit.” But Clive didn’t need his permission and was already half way out of the door; a fat man on a mission.

Normally Clive would be missing for at least half an hour, but today he was back within ten minutes. “Brushes down!” he called entering the room. “We’re having a little treat!”

Justin looked down from his ladder to see his thick, overfed boss carrying two large bags of fast food. “For me?” he asked, confused. Clive had never bought him so much as a coffee before.

“Yeah, why not?” Clive sighed. “You’ve been working hard today. We should still finish a little early,” he reasoned, unpacking a mass of food onto the table whilst swallowing the saliva that was building up in his mouth. “This place has amazing cheesy fries!” he enthused, pulling out the fourth serving. “You need to try them.”

Touched by the gesture, Justin climbed down from the ladder and sat with his boss to take on the very large Clive-sized portion he had been bought. He appreciated the thought and was pleased that Clive was making an effort, but trying to work on an even fuller stomach afterwards was not so easy. He rubbed his bloated middle and groaned, not wanting to get up out of his seat. He had no idea how Clive managed eating this much.

“Come on!” chuckled Clive, standing up ready to get back to work. “I want to have this job finished in an hour.”

“You should find yourself a nice girlfriend,” Justin’s mom hinted, as he packed up his things from his bedroom. “You’re twenty-two and I’ve never seen you bring anyone home!”

Justin rolled his eyes. Having worked with Clive for three months and got through his probation period, he finally had enough cash to rent somewhere on his own. He wouldn’t have to put up with his mother’s disapproval of his permanent single status.

“All you ever do is work and play on your games!” she moaned. “And I can’t see that changing now you’ve got your own place.”

“Yes mom,” Justin nodded, trying not to take any notice.

“You’re such a handsome boy,” she went on admiring her son’s pretty face. “And all this manual work is putting a bit of muscle on you. You’re quite the catch! You could have anyone you wanted!”

Justin rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as simple as that. He couldn’t just fall for anyone. His brain didn’t seem to work like that. For whatever reason, his mind had settled on his straight, 350lbs, large-bellied boss – and there was no room for compromise. He also didn’t agree with his mother’s assessment of his newfound muscle. Sure, he had bulked up a bit in the last three months, but he hardly considered any of it to be muscle. His clothes fitted a bit better, but that was more because he had lost his lanky frame. Any ‘mass’ he had acquired was more likely to be a little bit of fat from the heavy lunches.

Living in the middle of town was a revelation to Justin. Clive seemed to approve as well, as he no longer had to trek across town to pick him up and drop him off each day. “You can try that amazing Indian place I told you about on 32nd street,” he suggested at work. He seemed to like suggesting places for Justin and would sometimes drop him off at the location of his recommendation at the end of the day, to ensure that he actually tried them. “Go on! You can walk home from here,” he’d tease, kicking Justin out of the van. “You’ll love it, I promise!” he yelled, speeding off. But Justin hardly minded. Having lived on his own for only a few short weeks, he realised he was never going to be much of a chef.

By the time the summer came round, Justin looked around at the mess of stuff in his apartment. Four months he had been here now and he still hadn’t unpacked most of his boxes. He mostly lived in his sweatpants at home and wore the same oversized uniform that Clive provided for work. “Come on Justin,” he whispered to himself, feeling a surge of energy. “Let’s get this place sorted.”

Justin had almost forgotten about most of his clothes. He had packed so haphazardly that almost all of them were creased and dusty; in need of a good wash before he could even consider wearing them out again. But as he tried on a few items to procrastinate from the tidying up, he came across the same snag in each one. His newly acquired mass was causing the same issue with each shirt; namely, a little tightness around his bellybutton. He rubbed his centre in slight disbelief. He knew he had put on a few pounds over the last few months, but he hadn’t thought his stomach had bloated this much; enough to make his new appetite so obvious. Taking them off, he stared in the mirror at a deepening belly button and squeezed at the thickness building in his sides. He wasn’t even twenty-three yet and already the fat genes, that seemed to run through his family, were already cursing him. Even his pants were protesting at trying to push themselves over a remarkably enlarged rear.

Justin huffed at himself, looking in the mirror. His jeans were unbuckled and the t shirt he wore barely covered the blubber that was padding up his centre. “I need to get to a gym!” he whispered aloud to himself, already knowing that he wasn’t a gym guy. “Or salads…” he reasoned to himself. He could take a salad to work a couple of times a week. That would probably be easier.

“What’s this fucking rabbit food you’re eating?” Clive mocked him the following Monday. “Is that your lunch?”

Justin sighed. “I thought I would try something a little different today,” he explained, pushing the bland contents of his container around with his fork. He felt like he had burned more energy than usual this morning and the last thing he wanted to eat right now was this meagre salad.

“Fuck that shit!” Clive laughed. “A salad for lunch? What planet are you on?” he asked, taking a large rip from his bacon and cheese sandwich and chewing fiercely behind his chubby cheeks.

Justin’s mouth was watering. He wouldn’t be bringing a salad to work again.

“Oh shit!” Clive moaned as they pulled up at the large house they were to work at that day. “I didn’t realise these people were that desperate to get their house decorated,” he grumbled, pointing at the van already parked up: another painter and decorator’s business.

“We’re not the only ones on the job?” Justin asked, confused.

“No, we’re not,” Clive huffed, almost unsure of whether to turn the van around and head home. “They’ve got Steve in too.”

Justin opened his mouth to ask who Steve was, when he suddenly remembered. There was only one Steve in Clive’s world, and that was the guy who had abandoned him to set up a rival business almost a year ago. He was the reason why there had been a job for Justin. To say that Clive was bitter about it was an understatement, but Justin was more than a little curious to meet the man who had been in his shoes not so long ago.

Justin wasn’t in the building long when a shorter, hairy guy peered through the door as if looking for someone. “That’s Clive’s van outside,” he stated. “I was watching you guys from the window. Where is the big man” he asked Justin, scanning the room for Clive. Justin didn’t need to be told that this was the infamous Steve.

“Yeah, he’s just getting some things out of the van,” Justin explained, pretending to be more interested in the large room they had been tasked with revamping that day.

“So you’re the new guy, huh?” Steve asked strutting into the room, sizing him up. “I heard Clive had hired someone new after me,” he nodded.

Justin looked at him fully. Steve was a little older than him, maybe in his early thirties, with a small round pot belly and permanent ‘dadbod’ look. “Well, I don’t think he had much choice to hire someone new,” Justin replied, knowing that it was wise not to get too pally with Steve, considering the animosity between him and the boss. “You hardly gave him much notice when you ran off to start your own business.”

Steve seemed to smirk at the comment. “I see Clive has been talking about me,” he grinned proudly. “What else does he say?”

Justin shook his head; he had no intention of being dragged into whatever game was playing out. “Clive is a decent guy- the best in fact!” he stated. “Leaving him in the lurch like that was pretty bad of you. Then you went and stole a load of his clients…” He had to stop himself. He knew he was sounding far too passionate.

Steve still grinned. “I see you and Clive are as thick as thieves,” he said. He opened his mouth to make a smart retort when the room darkened with the shape of Clive entering from the doorway.

“Justin, can you go get the rest of the brushes from the van please,” Clive grunted, staring at Steve harshly before ignoring him altogether by setting up the painting station.

Not testing Clive’s patience, Justin walked out of the room without protest. However, once he was out of view, he couldn’t help lingering behind the door to hear how the awkward reunion would go down.

“Long time no see,” Steve began; the smug aftertaste to his voice ever present. “You’re looking good!”

“I can’t say the same about you,” Clive replied brusquely.

Steve gave a hollow laugh. “I thought you’d say that. I’ve lost a good 30lbs since I stopped working for you. Claire’s got me doing yoga,” he stated, patting his small, shrunken pot belly.

Clive gave no reply, laying out sheets across the floor.

“That new guy seems alright,” Steve went on, seemingly searching for a way to get a rise out of Clive.

“Yeah, and he works ten times harder than you ever did!” Clive bit back, making Justin smile with pride from behind the door. But there was something different in Clive’s voice. Justin had heard Clive argue with people before - this wasn’t quite arguing; Clive’s voice had never been laden with emotion as it was now. What part of their story was Justin missing?

“Yeah, well, I don’t remember either of us getting much work done back in the day…” Steve retorted, somehow taking the upper-hand. “I’m sure you remember that quite clearly,” he went on, sounding like he was closer to Clive than ever. Then, with a very clear thud, Justin heard Steve patting Clive’s drum-like stomach: thud, thud, thud. “Oh man, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this thing,” Steve sighed happily.

Justin tried not to gasp as the realisation hit him. Clive and Steve had been so much more than work pals.

“Well, you made your choice,” Clive brushed him off. “You chose to marry that dumb wife of yours instead - and crap all over this business at the same time.”

“And you decided to replace me with that guy out there,” Steve replied, clearly referencing Justin. “Let me guess; he was just a scrawny little runt like me when you first hired him? You are so predictable!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about…” Clive scoffed.

“Oh yeah?” Steve laughed. “The boy’s pants are two sizes too small and you can see the dent of his belly button through his tight shirt. That guy’s getting fat!” he laughed, making Justin look down at his physique questioningly. Was it really that noticeable? But then Steve went on, his voice more suggestive than ever. “Do you remember how horny you used to get seeing my belly beginning to shape up like that? You couldn’t keep your hands off me! You told me it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen!”

Clive didn’t reply. Justin couldn’t see his face from behind the door, but he could imagine it; the man was stumped.

“Are you sleeping with him?” Steve asked, his voice tinged with jealousy. Clive must have shook his head as Steve went on anyway. “He’s in love with you, you know? I could see it straight away. The poor chub idolises you. But you already knew that didn’t you?”

Clive sighed, long and loud. “Yeah, I guessed as much… But I’m not going there again. Not after last time.”

“So you’re just going to fatten him up instead; like you did me?” Steve interrupted. “A tasty treat here, a tasty treat there… You’re not going to be able to keep your hands off that chubby rear of his for long, and you know it!” he laughed. “I almost wish I were back in his shoes…”

Clive cleared his throat very firmly, taking his time before speaking next. “Well, you’re not in his shoes, are you? Now get out of my way. I have a job to do!”

Justin pottered about the rest of the day, almost in a daze. He didn’t much care that Steve had commented unflatteringly about his body; he had known for a while that he wasn’t quite as trim as he used to be. But it was the possibility of being with Clive that set his mind racing. If Clive was turned on by his body, there was at least a glimmer of hope that his feelings would one day be returned.

Clive, on the other hand, seemed to be in a mood for the rest of the day, and as such, they completed the job in record time. The site manager was amazed at their speed and asked them to come back the next day. But with a single glance at Steve who had popped his head round the corner to eavesdrop, Clive turned it down flat. “Too busy, sorry,” he grunted, passing over his invoice.

It took a while to process everything that Justin had heard Steve say. Not only was Clive interested in dating guys, but he also found a growing body like Justin’s wildly attractive. However, Justin knew he would never have the confidence to ask Clive out; he was his boss after all. If it went wrong, he’d be moving back in with his mother by the end of the lease. No, Justin would have to wait until Clive couldn’t resist him anymore. At least, that was the image Steve had planted in his head.

The summer was unending. Even as September was drawing to a close, the heat was making Justin’s t-shirts stick to his little, round pot belly in a way that he would sometimes notice Clive glancing at. Even without making a conscious effort to put on weight, he noticed Clive’s subtle little ways to ensure that he overate: a quick stop for breakfast, a mocking comment about anything less fattening in his lunchbox, a few extra notes in his pay packet to take himself out for dinner as a reward for his hard work. Combined with his otherwise sedentary life, Justin was looking and feeling more blubbery than he ever had in his life.

Working outside that day, Justin was unable to take the heat in his thick, over-insulated body. He could feel beads of sweat pouring down his face and did the only thing he could think of to relieve the discomfort; taking off his shirt. Immediately, he felt Clive’s eyes on him: his budding love-handles, his soft, round belly pushing a good way over his waistband, the jiggly way his nipples shook when he moved about and even the fat that was padding up his upper arms. Sweat was glistening across his whole lardy body and his hands slid across the slippery surface whenever he accidentally touched himself.

Clive had been without his shirt since the moment they arrived, which had been quite some distraction for Justin. But it was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Clive wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed of his body in the way other men his size were. Maybe that was part of the reason why Justin had fallen in love with him. Clive smiled at him as Justin’s shirt came off. “Good man!” he nodded approvingly. “I was wondering how long you would last. It’s a good job we don’t work outside all that often, eh?” Clive asked.

Justin nodded but disagreed inside his head. If they worked outside more, he wouldn’t have to wait months between seeing Clive’s beautifully large gut expertly pushing over his pants. The man was a masterclass in how to look sexy without a shirt on: large, overfed and most definitely in command.

“You’ve, uh… put on a few pounds recently, haven’t you?” Clive asked awkwardly, trying to make it sound like simple small talk as he applied more paint to his roller.

Inwardly, Justin smiled that Clive had taken an interest. He took a second, telling himself to be cool before he replied. “Yeah,” he nodded, rubbing his hand across the expanse of his wider, sweat-soaked stomach. “I’ve really been enjoying my food recently. And, if I’m really honest, I’m happy to not be a scrawny little runt anymore,” he smiled with pride.

“Oh really?” Clive asked. “You don’t mind it?”

“Mind it?” Justin asked, as if confused. “Who wants to be a skinny little shit?”

Clive nodded to show his agreement, but his attention was undoubtedly fixed on whatever Justin was going to say next.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Justin went on. “Outgrowing all of my clothes is pretty damn uncomfortable. Half of my underwear is up my ass right now!”

Clive laughed with genuine appreciation. “I remember it well,” he laughed. “I visited the gym three nights a week when I was married - and I watched what I ate. But it still didn’t stop her running off with my best friend and taking the girls halfway across the country.”

Justin nodded. He had never heard the story of how Clive became the man he was today.

“So then I thought ‘fuck it!’ and started eating whatever the hell I wanted.” He paused to allow Justin the time to take in his story. “I think I gained about 90lbs that first year I was divorced! I just started packing it on until I settled around 350lbs,” he grinned, slapping his gut, as if proud of it. But, Justin realised, Clive really was proud of it.

The story was almost too much to take. How Justin would have loved to be there back then, to see the real, big-bellied Clive emerge. But was the same now happening to him? That’s when an imagie of himself at 350lbs suddenly popped into his head. He rubbed the underside of his stomach and heaved a great sigh. “I’ve only been in my own place six months and I’m already 60lbs heavier than I was this time last year.” Why did he sound excited when he said it?

“Yeah, but you had already started to pack on a little chub, even before you moved out of your mom’s place,” Clive blurted out absent-mindedly. So he had noticed? Justin smiled happily. “Do you have stretch marks?” Clive asked, already searching Justin’s stomach for some signs of them.

Justin appreciated every second of Clive’s attention on his stomach, but he had no stretch marks to show him. “Nah,” he sighed, “Not yet anyway.”

“Yeah you do,” Clive smiled, stroking the area around Justin’s deepening belly button with his chubby finger. “Just here!”

Justin looked down and tried to stretch the malleable skin so that he could better see. Clive was right! As tiny as they were, Justin did indeed have stretch marks coming. “Shit!” he laughed aloud. “How did I not notice those?”

Clive’s eyes were fixed on Justin’s centre. His mind seemed to be quietly whirring away.

“Anyway,” Justin started, turning away. “We’d best get back to work, otherwise we’ll be here all day and I’ve been craving some pizza since I woke up this morning.”

Justin thought about that moment a lot over the coming days. He could sense that Clive was starting to see him differently – and he liked it. Clive’s attitude to him had shifted ever so subtly. He was caring and pleasant with him, no matter how much a client had annoyed him. Clive seemed to look after him more at work, not letting him climb up ladders too high or push himself too much. Justin felt like he had suddenly been wrapped in soft, warm cotton wool. However, falling in love with someone had certainly given him an appetite.

“We should hit that new burger place one lunchtime,” Clive enthused.

“I already did,” Justin nodded smugly. “Last night. It was pretty good! You should try it!” he boasted, sitting back happily, pleased that he was recommending somewhere to Clive for a change. “This shirt hasn’t been able to cover my stomach since,” Justin pretended to complain; tugging at the material to try and get it to cover the inch of belly fat that was on show. Meanwhile, Clive was trying his best not to look.

“I ordered two extra cheesy, meat-feast pizzas,” Justin explained, waiting in-line to collect his order. He had phoned it in earlier, then Clive had dropped him off here before heading home. He had eaten a big lunch today and yet, he was still starving. Unable to wait, he slunk down into a chair and started nibbling on a couple of slices to tide him over for the three minute walk to his apartment. That was when he heard a familiar voice.

“Look at you!” nodded a man standing before him. “Can you manage all that?”

Justin looked up to see Clive’s old partner Steve, standing there with a fake smiled plastered on his smug face. He sighed internally and finished chewing so that he could speak. “Oh, hey…” he swallowed. “Are you here for pizza too?”

“Jeez, what has that blubbery bastard done to you?” Steve powered on, ignoring him; a look of disgust drenching his facial features.

Justin bristled. He and Steve were hardly ever going to be friends, but Steve could at least try being polite.

“I mean, look at you!” Steve gasped. “I met you about, what…six months ago? And now you’re like a…”

“A fatter version of you when you worked for Clive?” Justin blurted out impatiently.

Steve seemed stumped. “I admit I gained a few when I worked for Clive. But nothing like this… and definitely not this quickly.”

Justin smirked. In his head, he had always imagined Steve being much larger than him when he and Clive used to be together. “That’s good to know,” Justin grinned, feeling genuinely proud of himself.

“Is he fucking you yet?” Steve asked, glaring at him jealously. “The fat pig probably can’t keep his hands off you.” He stared down at Justin, wanting more than anything to know.

Justin didn’t answer. He simply grinned and took another bite of his pizza, letting Steve’s imagination conjure up more than he could ever say to him. He knew that Steve had the chance to be with Clive; but he’d blown it. He’d picked a conventional life, laced with regret and a lack of freedom to eat what he wanted. “Does your wife know you’re sneaking in here for a cheeky take-out?” Justin asked mockingly.

Steve’s mouth set grimly; unimpressed. He reached down and touched his ever shrinking paunch, as if a memory from the past were calling to him. Then he simply turned around and left Justin without another word.

Finishing his first pizza, Justin slowly ambled home, feeling victorious.

It was a Friday afternoon and Justin had stopped for his now regular lunchtime take out, courtesy of Clive. This was always Clive’s treat, but with each week, he seemed to be buying Justin more and more to consume. Whereas lunchbreaks were usually no more than an hour; on a Friday, Justin needed just that amount of time to eat what he was given. Then he would spend the next hour, sat back in the van, digesting it all, with full permission from Clive.

Justin grunted, holding his stomach which was stretching painfully. He had really overdone it today, trying to impress Clive with his appetite. These Friday sessions always made him so horny. He longed for Clive to reach over and touch his belly. He knew that a simple, proud pat of his ballooning paunch could send him over the edge.

Feeling a little better, Justin decided he could head back in to help Clive finish off for the day. Heaving his body up, he slipped out of the van and walked uneasily back into the house they were painting. Clive was already almost finished with the place.

“Ah, you’re up!” Clive laughed seeing Justin had come back to life. “I didn’t think I was going to get you back upright until Monday after all that food!” he joked.

“Better luck next time…” Justin tried, whilst trying to release the gas from his stomach.

He bent down to pick up a tin of paint to fill up Clive’s tray. It was awkward to bend when he was this full; he already knew that. Squatting with his legs slightly wider apart to manage the bloat of his stomach, Justin suddenly heard a fast, loud rip in the back of his pants. Rapidly more sprightly than he could have imagined himself being a few seconds earlier, he stood up tall and reached a hand round to cup his own ample backside. Feeling his own crack, he could touch the frayed material along the wide tear – had he really just split his own pants?

Forgetting that Clive was even there, Justin almost jumped when he heard hooting laughter from behind him. “Good one!” Clive laughed. “I’ve been waiting all week for that to happen! Those pants have been looking like they were being tortured trying to contain that ass!”

Still clutching his ass, Justin frowned. “You could have said something then…” he grumbled.

“What? And miss the show?” Clive delighted, strutting over to him. He reached out and picked off Justin’s hand that covered the tear, allowing him to examine the area. “Damn!” he whistled. “You’re getting one hell of a big ass on you!”

“Yeah, I think I worked that out!” Justin grumbled, realising he would have to head home and get changed before he went out for food tonight now. He reached a hand back over his ass crack, but Clive hand removed it again; delicately, lovingly.

“Don’t be so shy,” Clive whispered into his ear as Justin felt a large, warm hand slip into the gap created by the tear. “I didn’t want to fall for anyone again,” he began. “But when I look at you, my resolve falls to pieces.”

“You mean that you..?” Justin asked, barely able to hope.

Clive simply nodded.

“I’ve tried so hard to fight this…” Clive muttered, pulling Justin back into his 350lb body. “I didn’t want to be hurt again, but…” he sighed, his hand slipping over Justin’s pot belly and lifting his tight shirt up to reveal the stretched mass. “…Damn! I would never be able to keep my hands off you for long.”

Justin moaned with pleasure at the touch; a big, chubby hand sliding over his new, enlarged and bloated stomach. His senses tingled at the touch. He had never experienced anything so erotic in his life.

There was a rumble up the stairs as the client was on their way to inspect the progress. The two men jumped and retreated, pretending to work again.

“Oh…” he lady exclaimed walking in. “I thought you might be a little closer to finishing by now,” she complained, if very politely.

“Don’t worry,” Clive jumped in. “We’ll be packed up within an hour. It’s just the simple bits left,” he explained. “Justin here had a bit of indigestion earlier so I let him take an hour in the van, which has put us a bit behind.

“Yes…” the client nodded, looking disapprovingly at the ill-fitting t-shirt on Justin. “I did notice.” Her brows furrowed at the strange shape of Justin’s pants, but she couldn’t see the tear from there - could she?

“But he’s all better now…” Clive nodded. “And I’m taking him out for pizza later on this evening,” he continued.

“You are?” Justin asked, thrilled.

Clive nodded, both of them forgetting that the lady was even in the room. “I’ll be taking you out for pizza every night of the week from now on…”