Just The Way Things Grow Chapter 1 Part 1

Just the Way Things Grow Chapter 1 part 1

A gay male weight gain story

Preview: When a guy wakes up some place unexpected, his best friend shows up to make sure things change between themBy: overgrownmassiveprince (tumblr)/Arachnophobe (original grommr name)/ Gainerboy 3 (bellybuilders)

Chapter 1

Oh shit, I think to myself, It’s dark in here.

Wait… where is here?

I try to move but something is holding me down. Is something holding me down? I try to turn my head, but I can’t tell if I’m moving. I open my mouth to try to speak but nothing comes out. It feels like cotton is in my mouth. I try to think back.

Where was I last?

What is going on?

Why can’t I move?

Think.

Think.

Think.

Ethan.

The last thing I remember is Ethan. I worked yesterday, or today, or whenever it was. I got up, Ethan said he was staying home from work. Said he had something to do at home. Mr. Pharmaceutical Rep always had things to do at home lately. I swear that shed he had installed was some kind of top secret spaceship. One day there was a nice plush yard and then the next day we had what could only be described as some kind of tornado, Doomsday bunker installed. “Don’t worry about it,” Ethan said being all coy and suave, “It’s just a place to store some of the prototypes for something the company is working for.”

Over the last few months, Ethan seemed to be out there…

NO! WHAT IS THE LAST THING I REMEMBER?!

Ethan

I worked, Ethan was home, he texted me to go to the gym, that he would meet me there. When I get there, he’s leaning against his car. He is wearing really big clothes. Must be a cardio day, I remember thinking. He tosses me a small shake. Much smaller than what he usually makes me. I make a face. He laughs and says, “Trust me.” I drank it. Chugged it. It tasted good. I can still taste it in my mouth, I struggle to remember.

I drink. He tells me to go get something.

What did I get? Should I call for help?

I open my mouth. I think I do, but nothing comes out. I can feel myself grunting, but then I realize I barely hear myself. It’s like everything is dull.

I try to move my fingers but I can’t. I can’t turn my head.

It’s so dark in here. Why is cold?

I remember getting to Ethan’s car, and bending over into the back seat.

That’s it. I can’t remember what happened next.

Oh, God, I’m dead. I’m dead or dying and I can’t move. We got jumped by someone.

OH SHIT! ETHAN!

I try to scream out again. This time whatever is wrong with me is wearing off. I can hear myself grunting and groaning. I’m not making words. My mouth isn’t opening. I’m not moving my body.

I’m paralyzed! Something happened and

I’m…

“Hey,” comes a voice out of the dark.

“You’re okay.”

I feel a tear come out of the corner of my eyes. It’s warm on my skin. I feel another pour out of my other eye. It’s Ethan. He’s here.

“Don’t try to move, buddy,” Ethan soothes in the dark, “You’ll be able to move soon enough. You just gotta relax. Okay?”

I try to talk but I can’t. I can’t speak.

FUCK, ETHAN! WHAT’S GOING ON? WHERE ARE WE? ARE WE OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY?

I am screaming in my head. I need answers, I have to have answers, I need…

The room brightens a little bit. There is a single bulb in a metal can above my head. It looks industrial. It’s dim but it’s getting brighter. I move my eyes but can’t see any windows or other light. I can’t even move my head. I can just look down the length of my face because I’m lying down. I can’t see anything past the stubble on my cheeks or beyond my nose. My eyes are darting around and I can feel my breathing speed up.

I’m stuck. I’m trapped. Ethan is probably stuck too. I have to figure something out.

And then over walks Ethan.

He looks big. Bigger than usual. More ripped, more muscular. His veins are standing out, and he looks so very sexy. And he’s naked.

My breathing is speeding up for a lot of reasons now. His dick is soft but hangs low. His balls are hidden behind a mound of hair and I swear to all things holy that he never looked this hairy before. His stubble from earlier is a full on beard now. But he’s walking around, and he’s… HE’S NAKED!

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

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Just The Way Things Grow Prologue

A gay male weight gain story

By: overgrownmassiveprince/Arachnophobe

Prologue:

“Jeez, man, look at him!” I pointed to the guy over at the end of the gym.  He was easily curling these fifty pound dumb bells and the veins on his arm were at least half an inch around.  He was massive and I could feel myself starting to drool.  Not at how big his arms were (they were probably close to twenty-four inches), but at his huge ‘roid belly.  The thing was a huge tank.  Almost completely spherical and probably hard as a rock.  He had all the tell-tale signs of not being “natty” that’s for sure.

“Wonder what he juices with?” My buddy, Ethan, bumped my shoulder with his elbow, still holding onto the kettle bell he was working with.

“I wouldn’t even know to ask,” I sighed slightly.  Not because I’m not big myself.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m pretty big for not using anything other than protein powders and eating a little extra.  The summer was over, so now it was the time to get the mass to promote the gains.  

Even if I would have been happy never stepping in this stupid place again.

But then I would miss Ethan.

I turned to look at him, the sweat glistening on his skin and clumping together the dark patch of hair under his arm.  We were well into our final set and he was smelling ripe, but looking pumped.

God, I love him, I thought to myself.

Ethan Mathers has been my best friend for about twenty years now.  We were both kinda chubby kids in middle school, and then he hit puberty before me, and it was all over.  Over the course of the spring semester of eighth grade, he went from barely five and half feet to over six feet tall.  His chubbiness spread out and then came the hair.  

His Italian genes or something must have broken through like waters through a flood gate, because he started having to shave that summer.  And he didn’t stop changing there.  Deeper voice, bigger hands, and I swear to God his feet became like boats.  He was in a size thirteen wide sneaker by tenth grade, and then by eleventh grade he was in a fifteen.

Meanwhile, my best friend was becoming this hunk.  He lifted a book and his bicep grew.  He did one push up and his chest became this massive membrane of taut muscle.  Permanent five o’clock shadow made him look at least twenty-one by Junior year.

And still he stuck by me.  I didn’t fully come into my own until around Junior year.  At 17, you would have thought I was some kind of mutant.  I still sounded like a girl.  I didn’t even have peach fuzz on my face, no hair under my arms and I don’t think my balls dropped until that night.

Oh, God, that night.

Ethan decided we were to be adults soon, having been pressured to start looking at colleges and taking the ACTs and SATs to do all the bullshit to get prepped for our future.  So instead of being the good kids we usually were, Ethan decided to get beer.  We drove in his beat up Honda Civic to the next town over, he strolled into the convenience store, grabbed a twelve pack and paid for it.  The guy behind the counter doesn’t say anything and then Ethan comes out looking like he just stole state secrets from the Pentagon.

“Tonight, we’re getting LIT!” He said with his deep voice, filling the car with his bravado.

“Do people even say that anymore?” I say back to him.  I immediately regret it because after hearing his deep manly voice, I sound like a little kid.  His annoying little brother even though I’m five months older than him.

“Come on, Jace,” the rolls his eyes, “Say it with me!”  He raises his voice in a falsetto.  “We gettin’ litty titty tonight!”  He laughs and nudges me with his elbow.  “Come on!” I laugh and raise my voice, although I try not to go too high because I don’t want to sound like the fat bitch that I am.  “WE GETTIN’ LITTY TITTY TONIGHT!”

We laugh louder than we intend to and he pushes the cold cardboard case into my belly and we ride back to his house.  We sneak into the family room, which is really just their finished basement and crack open the first can.  We cheers each other and start drinking.

It’s cold but tastes terrible.  I don’t think either of us want to admit that we don’t like the taste because we both exclaim “LITTY TITTY!” in unison.  

An hour later (and all but four beers gone), we are drunk and bloated.  I feel like I’m at least ten pounds fatter than I was when we started, and even hunky Ethan, with his furry abs looks chubby.  And that’s when it happens.

Ethan starts crying.

He looks at me and says, “I have to tell you something.”

I want to cry, too.  He’s my big beautiful perfect best friend, and he’s obviously upset.  I start thinking the worst and wait for him to say that we can’t be friends anymore.  I wait for him to say we’re not going to go to the same college we’ve both been looking at.  I’m waiting for him to rip the rug out from under me and destroy my world.

“I’m gay,” Ethan says through hitched sobs.  He is full blown red faced, snot nosed, giant crocodile tears upset.  He looks at me sideways and his brown eyes are glossy from the beer, but seeking my response.  

I take one of the last four beers, hand it to him, and I take one myself.  I crack it open and take several chugs, feeling my belly balloon out even more.  So much so that my jeans are starting to cut into my under belly.  I take a breath, belch and smile at him.

“That’s cool,” I say back a little slurred.  “Me, too.”

I’m not sure it’s true.  But in that moment, I take a few seconds to think.

Have I kissed a girl?

No.

Have I jacked off to a girl?

No.

Do I want to kiss a girl?

No.

I want to kiss Ethan.  I want to hug Ethan.  I want to run my fingers through his bouncy black wavy hair.  I want to feel his bloated belly against mine.  I want to kiss a boy.

This whole time Ethan sits and stares at me.  The tears have stopped, he sniffs a couple of times and then wipes his face with the back of his shirt sleeve.  He pops the tab on the beer, takes a few drinks, looks at me, and then…

WHAM!  The basement door flies open and in walks his big bear of a dad.  He looks at us both, crosses his arms over his own prodigious belly and shakes his head.

“Bed.  Now!” He barks at us.  We know better than to argue.  We get up and head upstairs to Ethan’s bedroom.  Ethan shuffles out of his clothes, looking thick and juicy with his beer bloat going on, and climbs into bed.  I crawl into the sleeping bag on the floor and roll over.  The room spins a little as I get my bearings and then I feel my big belly slosh over.  As I try not to get sick, I hear Ethan try to get my attention with a PSST!

I roll over, room spins, and in the dark I see Ethan and his big eyes looking at me.  He is smiling and he says, “I’m glad we can be gay best friends.”  And then he rolls over and goes to sleep.

That was the first night I jacked off to a big hairy bloated Ethan.  I came everywhere in my underwear and felt so happy.

The next morning, my voice started cracking when I talked.  By the end of the next week, I started growing hair on my stomach.  Ethan and I acted like everything was normal.  Only this time, we would whisper to each other who we thought was hot in our class.  We talked about the big Senior football players and the tall lanky basketball starters, and we just gossiped about who we wanted to take our V-card.  We both decided to wait until college to “give it up.”  We also made a firm pact that nothing was going to keep us apart.  

Ethan was always taller than me, stopping his growth spurt at a solid six foot, four inches, and I eventually came to rest at around six foot one.  I eventually got a decent amount of body hair on my chest and belly and I started to look like this sexy little otter.  My fat distributed itself well over my frame and I started to look normal.  

We went to college, Ethan started this weight training course as an elective, and considering we shared a dorm room, he made me join him at the gym.  Several boyfriends later between the two of us (more him than me), and we eventually decided it was best to just live out the bachelor life together.  We graduated, got an apartment together, and started working out and being adults.  We got jobs that paid the rent, but Ethan NEVER stopped working out.  And with the rigorous life we led, the only time we ever got to spend together was at the gym.

And still I carried this torch for him.  Still I would fantasize about that night in his bedroom.  Oh there were plenty of other times I saw Ethan drunk.  He came home many nights, slurring his words, cuddling up with me on the couch, wishing that he could find a good guy like me.  Someone stable.  Someone familiar.  Someone comfortable.

Then the next night, he’s bringing home this wannabe underwear model with an eight-pack and I hear Ethan plowing away at this guy.  The model was screaming “Antoine!  ANTOINE!”  And I wanted to barge in there and scream, “HIS NAME IS ETHAN AND HE’S MY BOYFRIEND!”  But I never did.  And we never were.  And we have only ever just been friends.  

My furry Italian stud with eight percent body fat and pecs that bounce when he does jumping jacks in the living room.  My Adonis of a roommate who when he wears those AMAZING Lulu workout pants, I can see just have thick and juicy his dick is.  How low his balls hang.  How when he hasn’t washed them in a while, his junk drags the pants down a little and I can see just how hairy he’s gotten as he’s gotten older.  He makes me shave his back because he doesn’t want to look like his dad.  Mr. Mathers, who only ever got bigger as he got older, was the meanest looking sausage-like man I ever met, and man, did I wish Ethan would give in just a little bit.

But it will never happen.  Ethan loves the gym too much.  Ethan loves being ripped.  Ethan loves how great his clothes fit.  Ethan loves making sure I’m getting enough calories in so that my gains are just as good as his.  They never are, but he tries.  Ethan, who through all of his hard work, has been keeping away the mid-thirties spread for the both of us. Ethan, who to this day is still man I carry a torch for, is looking at me and gesturing to the big ‘roided out guy.

“Dude,” Ethan looks at me, “If you want to talk to him.  Go!  It’s been a while since I saw you bring someone home.  Maybe he’s into juicy otters like you.”  He grabs my bicep and smiles, “Someone has been increasing their protein.  You big beast!”  He mock fans himself and winks at me.  “Go talk to him.  If you don’t, I will.  It’s been a while since I had a giant in my bedroom.”

I shrug, pick up my water bottle, chug some liquid, and shake my head.  “Nah, I’d just give anything look like him.”

I set my bottle down and grab my bag, realizing I’m done for the night.

Ethan smiles at me, one of his normal fiendish smirks, “Careful whatcha wish for, boyo.”

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