Sexually Transmitted Fat - Part 3

Sorry for the delay! I've recently found out that Tumblr is definitely blocking porn in text form as well as visual, so I need to spend some time searching for and creating an alternate site to host my stuff. So here's an extra long entry to make up for it. Enjoy!

 Oddly enough, I actually found it easier to get laid after I’d been infected than before. I got the bug early on and blew up to 350 lbs--big, sure, but I’ve got friends who are the size of houses now, so big they can’t even get out the front door. So big they haven’t been able to find clothes that fit. 

It wasn’t easy for me, but I was still within the realm of reasonable. I counted myself lucky, to be honest. It was a challenge getting used to my new size, sure, but I adapted. I didn’t like it, mind you--I still see a huge fatass in the mirror every morning. I’ve got droopy tits and double chins where I used to have a pretty good physique. 

And that physique got me laid on the regular. Blowing up ‘cause of some stupid virus put a stop to that--temporarily, at least. 

I wasn’t about to stop my regular hookups because of a bug, but I needed to change my strategy. I’d always had a policy of absolute honesty, so I changed my online profiles to reflect the new me and my current health status. 

At first I didn’t get any bites, but then some guy messaged me and asks if I could infect him. Doesn’t ask to have sex, doesn’t ask to date, just comes right out and says it. I message him back and ask if he knows what that means, he says he’s actually counting on it. That’s why he messaged me.

Turns out that there aren’t a lot of people being open about being infected with STO online. Me being one of the few honest folks about it meant that I attracted a certain kind of guy: bug chasers. 

Don’t ask me why they’d want to have to hoist their own gut just to take a piss. To me it sounds insane, but there’s a certain population that would love to get fat--like, really fat. And I’m their ticket. 

Best of all, a lot of them are freakin’ hot. Not that I’ve ever been particularly picky.

The guy I had last night was a real cutie. About 5-foot 7, beautiful face, thin, a real twink. Messages me with a screen name of “chub_chasing69” and says he heard from a friend that I was just givin’ it away. I joked if he meant my dick, he replies back, “That, and a little extra surprise.” 

We made plans to meet the next night at a hotel. We have a bite to eat first--being 350 lbs works up an appetite--and the whole time he’s just staring at me, watching me eat. He barely touched his own food. I asked him what’s he lookin’ at, and he says he can’t help it. He says I’m beautiful, the way body moves, how my cheeks jiggle, and that he can’t wait to be as big as me. 

Then he reaches under the table and touches my thigh. I joke if he’s not careful he’ll wind up even bigger. He smiles and squeezes, then drifts his hands further in. I’m already hard, but at my size you’d hardly be able to tell unless I was naked. When you’ve got thighs as big as tree trunks you’ll only spring a tent if you’re hung like a mule. 

I’m not bad, but I was never particular hung. And at my new size, it’s even harder to get at. 

Luckily, bug chasers don’t let a little thing like a big fat pad get in the way of what they want.

We went upstairs to our room with a bottle of wine. No sense leaving it on the table, and I like to lubricate my encounters. He says he doesn’t mind. As we go through the door I ask his name, his real name. He says Griffin. It’s a cute name. 

We sit on be bed a moment, my side of the mattress sinking way further than his so that he falls into my lap. It’s a fun trick I learned from some previous encounters--being a fatty isn’t all bad. I pour him a glass of wine as he plays with the buttons of my shirt, undoing a few. Then he reaches inside to put a hand on my belly. These chasers man, they love the belly. Always the first thing they go for.

We’re not much for chatting. He thanks me for the drink, downs it, and then starts nibbling on my ear. I love that. This is a good one: he’s not the kind that just see me as a sack of fat to get off on. He remembers that regular stuff can be sexy too, like ears and necks and inner thighs. Just because they’re bigger doesn’t mean they’re not sensitive. 

I sip casually, letting him have his fun, breathing more deeply as I get more aroused. By the time I finish my drink I’m hard as a rock, but you couldn’t tell with me sitting down--my belly blocks most of it. 

That’s enough teasing. I put my glass down on the bedside table, turn at the waist, and cup his head in my chubby hands. Then I lean over, hesitate just a moment, and stick my tongue down his throat as far as it would go. 

He moans and it’s like a dam breaks. His hands are frantically unbuttoning my shirt, fumbling on every one. I bat them away and just tear it open, buttons flying everywhere. He gasps again as I press forward, my bare chest exposed and pressing into him. I lean over, and now he’s flat on his back with me looming over him, pressing my weight into him. Chasers love this, and Griffin here is no exception. I can already feel how hard he is through his slacks. 

I get up with my knees on either side of him, lifting myself so most of his view is my belly. Chasers love this too, and he reaches up to lift, fondle, and knead my gut. I casually take the remnants of my shirt off, then lift my gut in both hands. He takes the hint and reaches in to undo my belt, then I let my gut go so it expands and undoes my zipper--another trick I’ve learned. 

At this point I shuffle up to let him get up close and personal with my belly hang. He starts to kiss and nibble there before finally realizing I’ve got a dick to fondle, too. He starts to lick and mouth at my cloth-covered cock so it gets all wet. I’m probably adding to that with a bit of personal lubricant myself (I tend to pre-cum a lot), so it’s probably getting pretty damp and pretty rank down there.

Unfortunately, I’ve never figured out a way to take off my pants gracefully at this size. I’m too big to just plank over top of him and wriggle my way out like I used to, so I have to get up off the bed, let my pants drop to the floor, step out of them, and then get back into bed. On my return journey, I quickly undo his belt and rip off his pants, then I lay down next to him in nothing but my pre-stained underwear. 

I gotta admit, the kid was pretty enthusiastic. No sooner had I laid down on the other side of him did he get up and straddle my gut, playing with every flabby fold and roll I had. I’m not exactly a fan of how I look now, but being so obviously worshiped was still a bit of a turn-on.

Ok, a lot of a turn-on. 

With me on my side my belly sort of slopes to the bed and off my crotch; my erection is an obvious invitation between my splayed thighs. Griffin needs no prompting and practically dives onto my crotch, rolling down the waistband of my underpants to expose my leaking head. He laps at it playfully, nipping at my soft tum occasionally before rolling down my waistband the rest of the way to get as much of my cock in his mouth as possible.

I’ve done this enough times to know that it’s not just your cum that transfers the virus. A little bit is found in pre too, with the effects being somewhat muted. After providing enthusiastic head for a minute, Griffin’s frame had noticeably bulked up. He wasn’t soft, but his sharp cheekbones and lithe musculature were no longer visible. A shame, really, but that’s how it goes.

I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the orial for a few minutes. At some point he managed to yank my underpants off and started chewing on my inner thighs. I loved that. I debated just cumming all over him right now, but from past experience I knew things could go badly if a chaser didn’t get what he wanted, and what he wanted most of all was my load. 

So I saved it. Griffin kept massaging my thighs, nibbling my groin and sucking my cock for 5 minutes, then 10, then 15. It was heavenly, but I knew why he was making sure I was well taken care of: he wanted my load to be as big as possible. The bigger the load, the bigger the final results.

Once, a chaser edged me all afternoon so by the time I blew in his ass he turned into a real porker--easily twice my size. I was oddly proud of that one. 

After about half an hour I felt that familiar feeling in my balls. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. My balls felt huge and heavy. Griffin noticed and started handling them, awed at their size and heft. He knew he was in for a good load. 

“Where do you want it?” I asked. 

He didn’t reply. I felt him push my leg down so I was spread eagle and then I felt him climb on top of me, my cock nestled right up against his hole. Then he pushed down and I popped in with little effort. I guess the combination of spit and the torrent of pre I was producing was enough for him.

Griffin rocked his pelvis a few times to get me as deep as I could go. An unfortunate side effect of my size meant that deep penetration was difficult due to a lot of me pushing back on his downward thrusts, but it was enough. 

It felt good--better than his ass. I started thrusting, building a rhythm with him. This part was practically anticlimax for me since he was getting progressively less attractive with each pound that was added to his frame. He already had a beginner belly, a pair of perky moobs, and the barest hint of a double chin. Soon he’d be bigger than me, if the roiling in my balls were any indication.

I laid back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the sensation. Griffin was cooing some nonsense about making me cum and turning him into a fatty, but I tried to tune it out. I just thrust and moaned and relished in the sensation of pleasure come from my cock and even, a little guiltily, from how Griffin was manhandling my flab.

When I felt myself cross that point of no return, I just let it happen. I was here to pump out a big load, and that what I was going to do. And oh boy was it a big load. About halfway through I opened my eyes and saw a face that practically mirrored mine--wide, round, jowly. Griffins gut was well on its way to surpassing my own, and his tits were already wide and saggy.

I kept cumming and he kept growing. At this point I could feel him expand on top of me, covering more and more of me with his flab, our bulk squishing together. Soon he’d push me out with his own expanding ass fat, but I thrust my pelvis to keep it in as long as I could. A few drops might have been wasted on his enormous ass, but otherwise it was a pretty good job. He was huge, his belly blocking any view of his face, and his weight was actually making it pretty hard to breathe.

I tapped him on the side of his belly a few times. “Air,” I managed, and he eventually got the message and rolled off to the other side of the bed under protesting mattress springs.

I gasped and looked over again at what I had wrought. Griffin easily outweighed me by a hundred pounds--maybe more. He was languidly fondling his tits and moaning like a whore, his cock leaking copiously between thighs bigger than his whole body was a few moments ago. It looked a lot smaller thanks to the thick fupa that practically engulfed it. 

I reached over and gave him a few strokes. He came immediately with an even loader moan, gripping his lovehandles so hard his chubby knuckles were white. 

A few seconds later he came to. “Holy fuck,” he said. “That was intense!” 

“Yeah,” I replied, not really agreeing. It was fun, but now my fun was over. His was just beginning.

“I hope you brought a change of clothes,” I said. He hadn’t. They never did. I gave him an extra pair of shorts and a shirt--which he could barely put on--and waddled out to meet the rest of the world as his newly fattened self.

I laid back in the bed for a little while. I knew that what I was doing couldn’t last forever, that bug chasers like him were running out and getting harder to find as each chaser I fattened took another off the market. But nobody touched me the way a chaser did--like how everyone used to touch me. I’d give anything to have that feeling back, even just for a little while.

I fished my phone out of my pocket and responded to another message from a chaser looking to get fucked. I gave him my hotel room number and waited. Sloppy seconds meant he wouldn’t get as big as Griffin, but maybe he’d just want to be around my size.