Like a Genie in a Belly, Pt 1

“What a mess,” Clint said out loud to himself, looking around.

He waded around the attic, walking amongst piles of debris and junk. Absentmindedly, he pulled his blue and white shirt down over a bit of beer belly that had been developing lately, making its presence known by pooching out every so often. Crap, he loved this shirt. It looked like yet another one would bite the dust.

His parents had made sure to tell him that he looked like he had gained more weight during his senior year in college and should watch his eating habits better. It was a nice comment to come home to, especially when they expected him to help sort through a bunch of their old stuff for an upcoming move.

Clint grew up in a large house that did not originally belong to his parents. It had belonged to his grandpa, but the intention was for the house to pass to his mother once his time was up. His grandfather passed away when Clint was a toddler, so unfortunately he did not get to know him very well.

Clint’s grandfather was sort of an eccentric trader and salesman. He owned an antique shop that specialized in foreign and cultural household goods, collected from the years he traveled in different countries as a young man. As a linguistics student, he knew several languages and received a grant from his institution to travel around foreign countries and document social research via a personal journal. He was a good haggler, and always got a reasonable price on an item, whether it was a rug or a teacup, which he promptly shipped home to add to his collection.

Clint never really liked exploring the attic, even as a kid. To him, it was a bunch of useless old junk that his parents were better off just throwing away. He was beginning to suspect that they were hoarders, just like his grandfather.

He shook his head and took another step. He was undoubtedly a little heavier since the last time he came here, because his belly obscured his feet somewhat, bouncing with every step. He did not see the protruding metal extension from a nearby antique chandelier positioned just above his left foot. As soon as he lifted his leg for another step, his foot caught as he moved forward. He knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

He yelped as he crashed forward with a loud “THUD!” causing the ground to shake from the impact of his meaty frame. Silverware and knick-knacks scattered. He held his arms out as he fell in order to protect himself, but that served as a double-edged sword. His hands collided with a nearby shelf, causing it to topple backward and crash with similarly devastating result.

Clint cursed, checking himself for injuries as he slowly stood. He was beginning to seriously regret accepting this job. After dusting himself off, he walked over to the shelf and examined it. Only a couple of porcelain teacups and plates had chipped or broken. He wasn’t too worried; his parents would not notice a few missing tabletop decorations in an attic full of the stuff, otherwise why would they have tasked him with organizing it in the first place?

Lifting the shelf back into its original position, he cleared the shattered debris away. Upon moving a small ornate box, a bronze gleam behind it suddenly caught his eye. He moved it aside and frowned. Hidden in a back corner of one of the shelf rungs was an odd, triangular container. It looked like a rhombus standing on a single corner, except the corner was flattened so that it could balance and stand on it. A small, blocky spout stuck out from one edge of the rhombus, while a square handle appeared opposite of it. The top of the strange container seemed to be of a lighter bronze color, indicating that it may have a lid that could be taken off. The best description Clint could come up with was that he had discovered some kind of poorly-designed polygonal teapot.

Removing it from the shelf, he noticed that a small sticky note was attached to the object’s surface. He peeled it off and read it curiously.

“Bought in a bazaar in India. True origins unknown. Vendor claims was used to seal mystic spirits inside. Holds tremendous historic and cultural value,” wrote his grandfather in his trademark scrawl. His tiny notes could be found everywhere in the attic.

“Spirits, huh?” scoffed Clint. It was just another piece of junk for him to categorize for his lazy parents. Without thinking, he squeezed the angular tip of the odd teapot and removed the lid. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see inside, but it sure as hell wasn’t what came next.

The object was half full of what seemed to be golden dust. Weird. Clint leaned in to take a small sniff of the stuff, when suddenly, the dust blasted out of the container, hitting him full in the face. He dropped the object as he felt the dust invade his nostrils and mouth. A cloud of it floated around his head as he waved his hands about uselessly and frantically, trying to push it away. Surprisingly enough, he could still breathe air normally, which did not make sense. The dust smelled of incense and spices, but did not cause him to choke.

Before he knew what happened, the cloud was gone. The struggle lasted about ten seconds. He was breathing hard, feeling panicked. Should he go to a doctor? What if he got Hephaestus poisoning? What if he breathed in fossilized rat droppings? A myriad of scenarios flooded his brain.

No sooner after he started freaking out that an eerie calm descended upon his brain. No biggie, he thought, everything was good. As odd as the situation was, he somehow felt everything was going to be all right.

He yawned, stretching his arms toward the ceiling, allowing a bit of his pooched belly to show. A sudden vibration from his pocket interrupted his temporary mental bliss. He took out his phone and discovered that his roommate Austin texted him.

“Hey man,” read the text. “About to grab some take-out. Want anything?”

Clint smiled as he replied. “Sure dude, I’ll have whatever you’re having. See you back at the room.”

He put his phone away. Organizing this shithole can wait. Today was going to be a good day.

*************************************************************************************

“Oooof,” said Austin, massaging his own sizable belly. “That was a good meal.”

Clint couldn’t agree more. Both of them were sprawled in the common area of their dorm room on bean bag chairs, guts distended heavily from gorging on Chinese takout. Built like a linebacker, Austin usually bought a substantial amount of food that would set them up for the next day. He was surprised when his roommate wanted the same serving size he usually had. Clint matched Austin box for box of chow mein, Chinese rice, broccoli beef, egg rolls and orange chicken.

A bit of cocky competitiveness suddenly struck Austin, not being used to someone with a smaller frame making him look weak. He was always good buddies with Clint, but he never had someone to compete with him when it came to eating. He grinned, slapping his own belly and chiding his buddy into eating more, expecting him to quit at any moment. The jokes soon faded as he began to frown, noticing how Clint’s small gut seemed to bow outward with every swallow. His gut looked dangerously packed, his shirt line stretched a few inches above his belly button, which was starting to look a little shallow. Austin was almost relieved when they finally went through the entire supply of Chinese food together, preventing his roommate from blowing up any bigger than he had already gotten. Looks like they would have to go for takeout again tomorrow. There would be no leftovers tonight.

“Damn, dude,” said Austin finally, eyeing Clint’s stuffed gut apprehensively. “I’m surprised you were able to keep up with me.”

Clint groaned, unable to answer fully. He suddenly let out a raucous belch as he rubbed his stretched table muscle.

“Urp…I just…don’t know what got into me, bro,” muttered Clint. “Guess I was a little hungrier than usual.”

“A little?!” laughed Austin. “I’ve seen competitive eaters choke down less than what you’ve done!” He leaned sideways on his bean bag chair, feeling the pressure from his own ball belly pushing against him as he patted and rubbed his roommate’s distended gut. Rivalry or not, it was a pretty good bonding moment between them.

Clint winced when he felt Austin’s warm fingers give his belly that brotherly rub. No sooner after he finished, Clint felt a low growling emanate from his lower belly. He could have sworn he felt a sudden tightness around the waistband of his shorts then, but it must have been his imagination. Must be bloated from some damn gas, he thought.

With a bit of effort, Austin rolled off his bean bag chair and stood. He scratched his belly and went to the front door and put on his flip flops.

“Where are you going?” Clint grunted as he readjusted his sitting position.

“Gonna walk to the 7-11 and grab some milk, we’re out,” Austin replied.

“Again? It’s a 30 minute walk! I thought your car was fixed?” exclaimed Clint, letting another belch loose.

“It was, for a few days,” sighed Austin. “I gotta let the mechanic know and see if he can cut me a deal. Dammit, I wish I could afford another car. It just isn’t in the cards right now.”

“Don’t worry dude…urp…. your car will get fixed eventually,” managed Clint, trying to ignore the sudden discomfort of gas in his stomach.

Austin shook his head sadly as he headed out, closing the door behind him. If he had taken a second to stop and look back at his roommate, he would have noticed that something was amiss.

Clint’s eyes widened as he discovered that the discomfort in his lower belly had not gone away. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. He began thumping his chest with one hand, trying to dislodge excess gas from his stomach, but he continued to feel a rising pressure in his gut. It felt like he ate something that didn’t agree with him, his insides churning heavily with a ton of digesting food. He gave up on thumping and began pounding his chest as a sharp ache spread throughout his torso.

Clint watched, mortified by the scene happening before him. His hairy pudge of belly fat slowly swelled like baking bread, causing undue strain to his green cargo shorts. He could feel the sudden coolness of his shorts’ metal button as his belly lazily lapped over it as it continued to grow and stretch. He groaned as he simultaneously rubbed his upset gut and pounded his chest desperately, trying to relieve himself of his sudden gastrointestinal distress. His gut was now easily twice the size it had been a few minutes ago, showing no signs of slowing down. He frantically attempted to stand, but his rapidly blimping gut prevented him from getting off his chair, anchoring him to where he sat.

“Holy shit….ugh…fuck…fuck…” he moaned, feeling his stomach helplessly expand inch by inch. What the hell was going on? Why the fuck did he have to eat so much?

Now the size of a gym exercise ball, Clint could swear he felt stretchmarks instantly forming on the monstrous orb attached to his torso. A creaking sound could be heard as the gut pumped bigger and rounder outward, beyond his reach. He felt gas building painfully and intensifying all over, with nowhere to escape to. Hell, he’d fart it out if he could manage, but he had eaten too recently for the gas to be at that point of his digestion system. No, it was all forming in his stomach, and it was happening quickly and dangerously.

His belly button had almost flattened from the increased pressure. Clint could almost feel it giving way to the demands of his belly’s increasing girth. It was both slightly painful and slightly relieving, but the relieving part would be short lived. Clint was now fully pinned by his behemoth belly, which was wider than three of him and about the size of a recliner chair. Anymore growth and he would probably explode. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable end.

To his surprise, that didn’t happen. His cheeks suddenly inflated, overfilled with releasing gas as it blasted out of him. His mouth opened and let loose a long, massive belch that flowed from him endlessly. As the pressure lowered and his belly shrank, he could not help but notice that gas was not the only thing he was expelling. Clouds of golden dust flowed from his mouth and filled the air. It seemed to be much more than he remembered ingesting earlier, and he saw that the room was now filled with it.

A swift movement in the corner of his eye caused him to turn his head. He watched, dumbfounded, as the kitchen window rattled and began to move. With neither rhyme nor reason, the window suddenly slammed upward, shaking the frame. As soon as it had arrived, the cloud of golden dust whooshed outside and left, leaving Clint in a very disturbed and physically problematic state.

*************************************************************************************

Austin walked along the sidewalk nearly two blocks away without a care in the world. The little event from a while ago gave him an optimistic view about the future with his roommate. Competing with him was both adrenaline-pumping and awe-inspiring. Hopefully it was the beginning of many pigouts to come.

Austin stopped to think about that for a moment. Why did he care? Was it about having someone to compete with that made him so strangely optimistic? Seeing his roommate overstuffed like that…

He shook his head. Strange thoughts, even stranger days. He waited for the crosswalk signal before stepping off the curb. His hands were placed in the pockets of an extra-large sweater capable of containing his straining bulk. Every step caused a slight bounce, a slight jiggle to his beefy midsection. He could feel his furry torso brushing and rubbing against cotton continuously. Involuntarily, he felt his cock twitch.

He had no time to dwell on that peculiarity, however, because a sudden gust picked up from behind him, causing him to shiver. The air blew past him, aggressively fluttering his hood and tie strings. It was a gritty wind that stung his cheeks, which made him wonder if it carried dirt particles or fine sand. He stepped onto the curb after crossing the street, thinking about how irregular the weather was being on a nice summer day.

His thought process stopped completely when he saw the small cyclone forming in front of him. He could tell it was a cyclone because he could see small golden particles following the direction of the air current.

“The…hell?” he gasped.

The golden maelstrom increased in size as the particles continued to gather on the corner next to the streetlight. Austin could feel the gold dust mites breeze softly through his auburn hair and chinstrap on their way past him. The cyclone began to rotate faster and faster, causing the dust to glow brightly. Out of nowhere, a blinding flash emanated from the phenomenon.

Austin covered his eyes, not sure what was happening or whether he would live to tell about it. He could still see the glow of the light through the fibers of his sweater. Only when the glow began to fade did he slowly lower his arm. What he saw in front of him caused his jaw to drop.

A red sports convertible sat parked next to the curb, as if it had been sitting there all along. There was no evidence to be seen of the mysterious golden cyclone. The car itself was a top-of-the-line model, one that he had only seen pictures of in car magazines, pictures that were taken in foreign countries that obsessed over vehicles at a level that far outclassed North America. He walked to the back of the vehicle, admiring its plush leather interior, amenities, paint job and shape. When he saw the license plate, his breath caught in his throat.

Nichols, it said. The license plate had Austin’s last name printed on it. “No fucking way…” he said, awestruck.

He did not even notice the dingy car that had pulled up behind him. A blast from the other car’s horn caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Hey guy!” the driver yelled. “Car trouble, or are you thinking about having sex with it?” He seemed to be in his late sixties and in a foul mood.

“Ah, no car trouble…well, at least not that I know of,” stammered Austin. “I mean it isn’t even mine…well I guess it is mine now, I think…” he trailed off.

The man gave him a withering look. “Well if it’s your car, space cadet, then get the fuck back in! It’s a green light!” He then muttered something about “fucking spoiled rich kids” before driving on the wrong side of the road in order to pass him.

“Thanks…I will get back into my car,” said Austin to no one in particular. He opened the car door and sat down inside. It dipped slightly from his large frame, but was pretty roomy otherwise. He grinned when he saw that the keys were already in the ignition. When he started the car, it turned on instantly, purring like a feline, but one that concealed the power and grace of a deadly predator. Forget the milk, he had to show this shit to Clint right away!

As he drove, he wasn’t even surprised when he saw a $100 pair of designer shades hanging from the rearview mirror. He put them on without a second thought.

Stranger days, indeed.

Clint was breathing heavily when he heard the familiar sound of keys jingling in the front door. He moaned nervously, wondering how his roommate might react to his sudden “change”. He closed his eyes as he heard the door open.

“Hey bro! You’ll never believe what the fuck just happened…” Austin began, stepping through the door and taking off his sunglasses. He stopped midsentence and halted once he caught glimpse of his buddy. The sunglasses clattered to the floor.

Clint wasn’t very surprised at Austin’s reaction. He probably would have reacted the same way if in the same situation. He imagined what the scene looked like from his roommate’s perspective.

Clint stood there, from behind the kitchen counter, in a body very unlike his old one. His figure seemed to have puffed up and thickened all around, from his calves to his back and chest. Even his face felt fuller than before. However, the most shocking detail of his transformation was the bulbous blob of fat weighing down heavily on the counter.

His gut had grown. No, that was an understatement. To say that it had “grown” would imply that a couple months of chowing down had simply added a dozen pounds to his midsection. No, it had BALLOONED. His belly looked ridiculously huge compared to the rest of his body, a thin, black happy trail completely surrounded by a distended expanse of lard and stretch marks. His gut was as round as an overinflated tire, rising and lowering steadily in rhythm with his labored breaths. His shirt had ripped open, closed only where his puffy, full moobs strained. The fabric was torn savagely where his gut now dominated, which was a fair portion of the counter. He rubbed it in slow circles, hoping to dull the ache that the abnormal growth spurt had left him.

Austin blinked several times. He took a step closer to his friend. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He closed it and gingerly took a few steps until he was only a couple feet away from the wobbly mass. Finally, he spoke.

“Dude…what happened to you? You’re…huge,” he said flatly, unable to describe it any other way.

“Agh…you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” managed Clint, as his belly gurgled painfully. He no longer felt like he had gas, but his gut was heavy, as if he gained actual girth. He wasn’t a math whiz, but he felt like he gained around a hundred-plus number of pounds, mostly concentrated in his midsection. It had taken considerable effort and strain trying to heave the damn thing to the counter in the first place. Now he was afraid of leaving without the support of its surface.

Without warning, Austin tentatively reached out to touch it. Clint’s eyebrows arched in surprise. He expected his friend to freak out, run away, or maybe even call an ambulance. He certainly did not expect him to actually touch his gut. The situation was weird enough already.

Truth be told, Austin was a little scared, but something inside was compelling him to do this. Curiosity, or something a little more…sinister? I mean, c’mon, the thing looked ready to bust, for crying out loud! The last thing it needed was any further form of agitation. And yet…

His cock slowly rose in his pants as his fingers lightly brushed against the happy trail of the engorged belly.

The sweet warmth of Austin’s touch caused Clint to let out a small whoosh of air. It felt good. Really good. A pleasurable sensation traveled across the curve of his domed belly, all pain forgotten. He began gently rocking back and forth, letting his overstuffed paunch roll across the countertop. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he did not really care. It was as if there was a driving force within him, begging for more attention. He could feel a tightness forming inside of his busted shorts.

Austin’s heart began to race as he lightly slapped the belly with both hands, feeling the weight and firm resistance when he poked and shoved at it. His own girth was put to shame in the presence of the beefy globe before him, but for some reason, that was exactly why he was so turned on. There was no other explanation. He began rubbing in deep, large circles, which caused Clint to pant excitedly. A loud gurgle could be heard as the belly began to vibrate.

Clint felt his gut surge forward an inch, as his cock expanded suddenly. It was as if some leftover pressure from his expansion contributed to his dick assuming more girth. The tightness in both his already mammoth belly and can-sized cock could be felt as it intensified ominously.

“Fuck, dude!” he gasped, as his cock began to involuntarily spasm and spurt. His gut heaved. He backed away from the counter, feeling cum wildly spraying at his massive underbelly. The vast orb of fat dropped its full weight upon his dick, tipping him forward as it did so. Austin rushed around instinctively to steady his friend. He put both arms around the gut and assumed a wide stance against it. Clint could feel something hard poking the front of his gut, relieved that he wasn’t the only weirdo in this house. He could tell Austin was thinking the same thing.

“Man, I can’t believe how hot this is,” whispered Austin. “I don’t know what’s happening, all I know is…it’s just hot, and I can’t stand it.” He let the stubble of his face caress Clint’s skin as he rubbed his head against the gut, causing another ominous gurgle.

“Dude, before you get carried away,” panted Clint, trying to catch his breath. “Try to stop… rubbing against me for a second. I know it’s hard, but…I think the rubbing is what’s making it worse.”

Austin stopped begrudgingly, thinking it unfair that his buddy got to get off and leaving his own member aching for release. Clint had a point, though. Austin could almost feel his fingers spreading wider apart against the swelling wall of flab. He could hear the stretch and creak of resisting fabric, slowly losing a war.

“Damn, do you got some alka-seltzer or something?” said Clint. “I gotta get this thing settled…it’s really starting to hurt again.”

Austin turned away and began to rummage through the kitchen cabinets, his erection beginning to fade. It was a mood killer, but he began to realize again the immensity of the situation. His roommate was a fucking blimp and he had no idea how he got that way. It could be a rare medical condition or something else for all he knew. He found a spare alka-seltzer packet and tore it open. He dropped it into a glass of water and handed it to Clint, who chugged it after waiting for it to dissolve.

“Oof…not sure if that helped,” he said, defeated.

“C’mon dude, I’ll guide you to the couch,” said Austin, placing an arm around his shoulder and the other around the planet of a belly.

Clint sat first, widening his legs as his belly surged forward to fill the gap. He arched his back to counteract the forward weight of his gut and along with the help of his friend, he was able to lay on his back. Austin stared at it hypnotically, watching the heavy rise and fall of its circumference. Clint caught him staring as Austin turned away, a little embarrassed.

“Bet you wish you had a camera, huh?” chuckled Clint, patting the sides of his fleshy mountain.

Austin looked back at his roommate, meeting his gaze again. This time he did not look away. He swore he could sense lust in those hazel eyes.

“Yeah,” Austin agreed, finally. “I do.”

Almost as if on cue, Clint’s gut promptly blimped outward half a foot, as it began to vibrate wildly. Clint howled in painful ecstasy, as he felt his cock forcefully engorge itself again from a tremendous amount of pressure being forced into it. Even weirder than that, he felt another strange sensation in his nether region, just below his dick. His ball sack stretched as he felt his testicles swell, sloshing heavily with cum. He moaned as he felt them weighing down like a pair of oranges, swinging between his legs and belly.

Every inch of skin on him tingled with pressurized growth, feeling extremely sensitive and overstuffed. The familiar feeling of reaching his limit dawned on him once again, causing Clint to squeeze his eyes shut. Then, just as before, he began to feel the pressure release, as gas rapidly traveled up through his throat. His cheeks bulged.

“BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!” belched Clint, releasing a small cloud of golden dust and watching his belly recede in size, though a bit bigger.

Austin’s eyes widened with recognition when he saw the golden dust. He stared, dumbfounded, when the cloud encircled his own hand. He felt something begin to solidify as the cloud faded. Within a few seconds, he was holding a brand-new Nikon camera.

He looked up at his friend, who looked to have gained a good thirty pounds of blubber in his gut. The hairs of his happy trail and chest had spread farther apart. His belly button looked almost completely flat, trying to accommodate the recent growth spurt beneath it. A pair of flabby, yet over-pumped moobs rested upon his gut, doing their part to relieve some of the overall pressure. His dick and balls bulged obscenely in his shorts, straining the fabric. A large wet spot could be seen leaking from underneath his skyward belly. Austin licked his lips.

“I think I know what’s going on…” he said, breaking the silence. “I mean, I have a hunch, but maybe you should tell me your side of the story first.”

Clint nodded, as he poked his newfound poundage, finding very little give. A small whimper escaped his mouth. He saw a tiny golden speck fly from him, as it sailed out the open window.

“I think I have an idea too,” he sighed.

It only took about a half-hour for each of them to talk about their paranormal experiences. Clint talked about how he needed to clean his parents’ attic and how he had the incident with the odd-looking teapot. It had to be the key to his newly fattened state. He then talked about his increased hunger, which explained his pigout earlier. He finished with his first growth spurt and the large dust cloud he belched that flew out the window.

Austin took up the story from there, explaining how he ran into the cloud during his walk to the store. He had the feeling this “teapot” was a lot more than either of them had guessed.

“Do you…believe that magic exists?” Austin asked genuinely.

Clint shook his pendulous gut in response. “Before today, can’t say that I did.”

“What about…genies or wishes, crap like that?”

Silence. Everything began to click in place.

Finally, Clint spoke. “Are you saying I snorted some kind of fucking pixie dust that used to be a genie’s remains in a lamp, and now I can grant wishes? That’s gross, dude.”

“Not remains exactly,” Austin replied, rolling his eyes. “But what if something magical used to live in it, and it left some of its power? Or maybe the artifact itself was cursed or something? Look, I don’t know why this happened, but it is what it is. You can grant wishes now, apparently.”

Clint clapped the side of his gut and shook it for emphasis. “At a cost, apparently.”

Austin flopped down next to him on the couch. He could feel Clint’s belly lazily slosh toward him. To his disappointment, Clint turned his sitting torso sharply so that it would slosh the other way.

“Careful, bro,” he warned. “No touching, remember? Can’t afford to get this thing any bigger.”

By this point, Austin had a pretty bad case of the blue balls already. He could feel irritation welling up inside of him, feeling very unlike his usual self. Part of him wanted to launch himself onto that planet of a belly and squeeze, bounce and play with it to his heart’s content. He was starting to feel like a feral animal that had been denied its meal.

“I thought it would only be dangerous if the words ‘I wish’ were mentioned?” he said, trying to act nonchalant. His sizeable (though not as big as Clint’s now) member throbbed hopefully.

Clint sighed. “It already happened twice, dude. I can’t take any more chances,” he responded, a small note of irritation in his voice.

Austin got up from the couch abruptly, trying not to show any signs of hurt or anger as he began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Clint demanded, trying to peer at his roommate over his overstuffed sphere of fat.

“I’m a little tired.” Austin struggled to keep his tone neutral. He knew deep inside that it wasn’t Clint’s fault, but part of him couldn’t help it. “A lot has happened in the past few hours and I think I need a good night’s rest in order to digest it all.”

He reached the door to his room and was about to close it behind him when Clint spoke suddenly.

“Austin.”

Austin stopped moving at the sound of his name. His pulse quickened. He held his breath.

“Do you think you would be able to give me a ride back to my parents’ place in the morning?” asked Clint. “I think that ‘lamp’ might hold the key to getting out of this mess. I would drive myself, but, you know…” Clint gestured at his massive bulk. It would be impossible to maneuver a vehicle with a tank that size obscuring his view.

Austin’s heart sank. Funny how “normal” a guy wants to become after he gets his own rocks off, he thought bitterly.

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied, closing the door.

Austin sat on his bed, feeling the remnant of his erection ebbing away. Clint would probably stay put and make himself comfortable on the couch, since he was already there and probably wouldn’t want to deal with lugging his belly around. The image itself was starting to piss him off even more. Why did it turn him on so much? The bulk, the sheer size and power of that gut…

So what if it DID get bigger?

His dick hardened again as his heart began to race. He pulled out his cell phone and started typing a text message. It was about two minutes before he finished and clicked “send”. Within a few moments, he got two replies.

Squeezing his cock playfully, he whispered to it.

“Just hold off a little longer…before this is over, we will both get what we want.” He smiled mischievously.