DEVIN MEETS HIS COACH

Devin grunted and pushed himself up from the table, staggering, unaccustomed to the weight pulling him forward. Coach steadied him and led him back to the car. Devin slumped in the seat, belly bulging toward the dashboard. He closed his eyes and groaned softly as they drove. When he opened his eyes, they were back at the bar’s back door.

Coach pulled him from the car, planted his hands on the jock’s broad shoulders, as his feedee teetered. The food and beer packed belly ricocheted against the car door, then the bar door. Devin’s muscles strained with every bounce, strained in new ways with his new center of “balance,” almost like a toddler first learning to walk. 

Coach reached out to support his stud by grabbing his gut. He smiled to himself at its rock-solid mass and steered him past where they had met to the farthest corner of the bar. Devin wanted to sit. He felt heavy, drunk, stuffed – fuck – thirsty!

The bartender came over to Coach, eyeing Devin’s bulbous belly with visible surprise. Devin couldn’t hear what they said. He saw Coach take a key and the bartender nod toward a barely visible door. Coach wrapped his elbow around Devin’s neck – half bear hug – half wrestling hold – giving him no choice but to follow. They went into the room alone. The drunk jock bumped into a chair in the dark. He was turned and pushed into the seat with a thud, his beefy ass landing on the wood seat, his belly bouncing with the impact. He was relieved to be sitting and just rubbed his belly, amazed at its feel, vaguely wondering about the metal scraping sound. Something was being dragged near him. Then he heard another noise. What? A pumping? Then he felt Coach standing over him, his groin pushing into Devin’s blown-up belly. 

That firm yet gentle hand grasped the nape of his neck, made him tip his head back. His mouth was pushed open. He felt a glass rim against his lips. He saw coach pouring a bottle of something into his mouth, like that vial from before, only 10 times bigger. Coach’s face came close in the dark. 

“Drink up Fatboy. We’re just going to mix this in your gut this time.”

 Devin drained the bottle obediently. Then a plastic piece parted his lips before he could talk. A nozzle? His lips enrapt it hungrily. Beer gushed into his mouth. Devin opened his throat and let it flow.

“That’s my thirsty Fatboy. Time for more beer.” 

Devin gulped and pointlessly fought the drunkenness. He finally made out the big beer keg next to them, attached to the hose plugged in his mouth. Beer flowed too quickly down his throat to track. Coach made him drink and drink. Devin’s belly ballooned, growing bigger and rounder, pressing into his feeder, making Devin aware of Coach’s full erection as he rocked his hips into the jock while mercilessly inflating his belly. Devin felt ready to pass out. He could only feel his belly blow up; his head tipped back too far to see its full size. Devin clamped his eyes shut and focused on rhythmic swallowing, on keeping up with the beer flow. He moved a bit, only to have Coach hold his head firmer. “Drink it all, Fatboy! Then you rest.”

 Devin managed it and let out a wall-rattling belch. Coach released his head, nodding approval. The jock slowly looked down at his belly, stunned. This couldn’t be his gut. He had fantasized about this for years, realizing now that he was never able to envision just how hot it would feel to look down and see a fat ball pushing well over two feet in front of him, for real.

“We better get you out of here for good, Fatboy. While we still can.”

Devin groaned. He just wanted to sit and rub his belly and give into the beer haze, but Coach helped him up. His shirt rode high over his keg-sized swell. Devin didn’t bother to try to adjust. He just let his firm belly bulge in full glory. He looked and felt enormous. Bigger than he ever thought possible.

“Better get moving before the swelling really kicks in.”
Devin thought he would pass out. Really kicks in? Fuck!

To be continued