#formerlyfit

[gainerstories]

Formerly Fit

Trigger Warning:

Non-consensual sex is a key element of this story and may be triggering for those who have survived sexual abuse.

Kent Worthwood was the most popular guy in high school, a total bully, and secretly a fag. I had the great luck of not only being Kent’s favorite victim, but also the illustrious role as his cum dumpster. He was a junior when I was a freshman, and I was the perfect target for him to unleash a constant slew of attacks stemming from his own internalized homophobia. He made my life a living hell for the two years we were in school together. He immediately noticed I was gay and disseminated this information to our entire conservative high school. He would push me around in the hallways, vandalize my car, and made sure everyone else followed suit.

Things got worse one night at a Homecoming after party. Everyone was drunk on cheap beer and as I was about to call a taxi home, Kent locked me in the bathroom and forced me to give him a blow job. He was much stronger than me and I was afraid that if I didn’t comply he’d beat me up worse than ever. Despite feeling afraid and violated I was also kind of turned on. I constantly feel guilty for the fact that to this day I still jerk off thinking about that night. After the blow job he said no one would believe me about what happened and that if I tried to go to my parents or the cops he would ruin me. I had no other option but to stay silent. Unfortunately, this one-off incident became a regular activity. By the time Kent graduated we had a solid routine. He would text me that he needed my mouth, and I would go over to his house. Each time he would be spread legged on the couch in the same position, surrounded by a cloud of pot smoke. I’d pull his basketball shorts down from his toned varsity track star waist and suck his cock until he came. Then I would leave. And no one would know.

I felt mixed emotions once he graduated and left town. On one hand, I was relieved. On the other, I missed his smell, the taste of his thick uncut cock, and that hazy room stinking of marijuana. I knew I had succumbed to Stockholm syndrome and that I was better off with him out of my life. Still, memories of that time would occasionally sprout up and send me into a masturbatory spiral of self-loathing.

I moved to New York City after I graduated to study graphic design. I finally got to spread my wings and date a variety of men who treated me with dignity and respect. I had new sexual experiences that made the memories of those strange high school years begin to fade. However, once I traveled home for the holidays they all came flooding back. It was a surreal experience returning to my hometown after living on my own for a whole year, but I figured that was part of growing up.

I was out shopping with my mom when I received a text message from an unknown number. It read: “Hey, this is Kent Worthwood from high school. I’d like to see you again if you’re in town. I live in the same house as before.”

My head began to spin. There was no way this was happening. I wanted to resist his beckoning but I was also intensely curious. Why had he moved back to town? What did he look like now? Was he following his dream of running in the olympics? Why was he still interested in me? Would his cock taste as good as in my fantasies? I asked my mom if I could go out after dinner that evening and she agreed. I texted Kent back and he seemed pretty excited that I would be stopping by. His language was so kind that I became suspicious and was struck with the fear that I may be walking into a trap. I knew I had to be cautious, but my curiosity was piqued and there was no way I could pass up this opportunity.

After dinner I took a shower and drove over to Kent’s house. I always found it strange that his parents were never around when I was there. I found it even more bizarre that he had moved back. I parked in front of the house and took a deep breath. I was unsure of what I’d be walking into and had even brought a pocket knife just in case. From my car I texted Kent that I had arrived and he replied that the door was unlocked. I slowly walked up to the front door, took one last deep breath, and turned the knob.

It felt like I was stepping back in time as I walked inside. The living room was so clouded with marijuana smoke that I could barely see. I could discern that the TV was on and playing Beavis and Butthead and that all of the furniture looked the same as it always had. I could faintly discern a figure sitting on the couch, spread legged, and exhaling a puff of smoke from a bong. I stepped closer and was utterly confused.

“Kent?”

“Hey, cutie. It’s been awhile.”

I was completely floored. Kent was barely recognizable. He had to have gained over a hundred pounds since I saw him last. His track star physique was long gone. From what I could tell he was sitting at about three hundred and fifty pounds. A giant beer belly filled his lap and poured into the space between thighs that were thick as tree trunks. Buoyant manboobs rested atop the mountain of fat protruding from his torso. His once chiseled features and square jaw had softened underneath chubby cheeks, scruff, and a prodigious double chin. His hair had grown long and was tied up in a disheveled man bun. Unless I was mistaken, he was wearing a pair of old basketball shorts from when we were in high school. The cellulite on his thighs filled the legs of the shorts completely. His T-shirt was similarly tight and left nothing to the imagination. It was also covered with food stains that traced the curve of his mountainous gut. Overall, it looked like Kent Wentworth had become something of a fat slob— a far cry from his high school days.

“I… You… look so different.”

“I know. Thanks for not calling me fat. I injured my leg in college and discovered that you can’t eat the way I do unless you’re running several miles a day. Who knew!” He chuckled.

“Yeah, uh… who knew.”

I didn’t know how to behave. I was used to him slinging insults and homophobic remarks at me. The last thing I expected was small talk.

“Hey, you wanna hit the bong?”

“I think I’m okay.”

“I won’t pressure ya!”

I nodded awkwardly. What was I supposed to say?

“I wanna apologize,” he said. “I bullied you a lot for being gay and I really regret that. I was under a lot of pressure from my dad to do well in sports and I was having a hard time reckoning with my own feelings… gay feelings, ya know. Especially with you. I was so attracted to you man, I mean fuck… but I guess you knew that.”

I tried to hide my fiery indignation. No, I didn’t know he felt that way. I thought he hated me and thought I was garbage. I was nothing more than a warm mouth for his bitter come. Although brimming with outrage and insecurity, I was still speechless and incapable of forcing words from my mouth. I simply shrugged.

“Anyway,” Kent continued, ”I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Javi. Those were some good times we had, and I was wondering if you might wanna do what we did back then?”

I was angry and wanted to spit in his face and tell him how miserable he made me. I wanted to shout that I still have trauma from what he did. But being in that room was fucking with my head. My dick was already starting to get hard and I think I was getting a contact high. I stepped closer and noticed that a pizza box sat next to him on the couch. All the slices were gone except for one that had a few bites taken out of it. I walked closer until I was inches from the couch. I gazed at the changes his body had taken on. It was unbelievable the weight he had gained. Part of me was repulsed but as I stepped closer I could smell his intoxicating B.O. Without second thought I dropped to my knees.

“Yeah, that’s right. You missed this huge cock, huh you little faggot?”

I nodded in agreeance and began to tug at his shorts. I had to slide my fingers in between the fabric and his hairy dimpled thighs and was surprised to discover how supple and cushioned his legs felt. I don’t think I had ever touched someone so fat until that moment. Without standing up he lifted his waist up off the couch to allow me to pull his shorts off. The maneuver forced his chin deeper into his neck fat, making his face look like modeled pastry dough. It also made his T-Shirt ride up and reveal a furry belly covered in blazing red stretch marks. I yanked the shorts from his body and he plopped back down, causing his belly to bounce like a water balloon and the couch to creak as though it were on the verge of collapse.

His cock was already hard, but appeared much smaller than it had four years ago due to all the chub surrounding it. When we were in high school his erection would slap against his toned abdomen and point straight towards his face. Now his gargantuan belly pushed it forward, causing it to point directly at me. I put it in my mouth but soon realized I couldn’t create much friction with all the fat in my way. I pushed my mouth as deep as it could go, allowing my face to be encompassed by his belly, thighs, and FUPA. The familiar smell of his body caused my erection to quiver. He definitely had become smellier with all the extra weight on his frame. It was the same smell he had before, only intensified.

I realized my old cock sucking method was no longer effective for an overweight guy. To remedy this I lifted his belly up with both my hands so that I could better wrap my mouth around his member. When I did this I discovered how truly large his FUPA was. It was so big that his overgrown bush looked quaint in comparison to the stretch marks laying underneath it. I began to get to work, bobbing my head up and down as I held up his belly. My arms were beginning to grow tired so I sat back for a break. I noticed that he was chewing on the remaining slice of pizza while I sucked and I was surprised at this blatant gluttony. He seemed unashamed. After swallowing the pizza down he let out a large belch that smelled like Mountain Dew and cheese.

“No one sucks my cock like you, man. Fuck. Play with my nipples too.”

He lifted his belly so that I could slurp on his boner with ease while also diddling his man tits. They were soft like a woman’s, but also covered in hair. He began to moan louder and louder and I could tell that he was close to orgasm. His body began to tremble, sending his fat into a jiggling frenzy. He dropped his belly on my face with an audible plop and brushed my hands from his tits so he could take over. He pushed my head down with one hand as he began to pump his jizz down my throat. I couldn’t see because my face was obscured by all of his extra weight, causing my other senses to heighten. I could smell the distinct odor of the unwashed crease between his FUPA and belly, feel his sticky unwashed skin stuck to my face while soft fat bounced around it, and feel the come coursing through his cock and exploding into the back of my throat.

I peeled my face away when he was finished and we made awkward eye contact. He never used to look me in the eyes.

“Hey, you wanna stick around for pizza and a movie? I’ll make it worth your while?”

I declined and drove home. The house was dark and my parents were in bed. I stripped off my clothes and laid down. My cock was still hard as a rock from what had just transpired. I opened up my laptop and googled: “chubby gay porn.”