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Life can be a bitch sometimes. A couple of weeks ago I got laid off when the tech start-up I was working for didn't make it, and then the local job market went south and I couldn't land anything else. With bills piling up, I did what many of us have: retreated back to live with my parents and recoup. My parents were very understanding and welcomed me with open arms, and it was better than bankruptcy.
That said, I wasn't too happy about everything, and at times I'd say I was downright depressed. Moving back to my old hometown meant I was leaving all the friends I'd made at work, friends I'd made since university, and so on top of the shame of moving back in with my parents I was pretty lonely.
On a lark one night, I decided to actually try something I'd been avoiding for years: social media. I signed up for Facebook and searched my local area for anyone I recognized, see if maybe anyone wanted to reconnect, hang out. It turned out like me, most people I'd know from high school weren't around anymore and had moved on to greener pastures, and I was more than a little chagrined to think I was the only one to move back home. Just as I was about to give up and finish drinking my sorrows to sleep, I finally came across someone I recognized: Big Brian Johnson.
I'd worshipped Brian from afar in high school. As the name would suggest, Brian was big. He'd been big in grade nine, big when he joined the high school football team (defensive lineman, of course), and big when he got a full scholarship to college. I had the hugest crush on him back then, and I was surprised to see him back here when everything had seemed to be going so well for him.
There weren't many pictures of him on Facebook, just a few updated head shots that seemed to confirm what I remembered: big, round face, blue eyes, blonde hair, clean shaven. If the rest of him had stayed the same from high school, he'd also be huge, with a massive, round-yet-firm belly, tree trunk legs, impressive chest, immense arms, big hands... he was a real beefcake. It was no wonder I'd had a hard-on every time we'd sat next to each other in calculus class.
I'd never actually told him I was gay, and super into him. In fact, besides sitting beside each other and chatting in class, the only other time I'd really interacted with Brian had been when he'd asked me to hit him in the gut as hard as I could one day in the hallways... OK, that might require some explanation. The football team was always trying to one-up each other in terms of machismo, and naturally taking a punch fit the bill. Members of the team had been pairing off punching each other, and occasionally one would double-over, winded - except for Brian. He was practically invincible with his enormous gut protecting him. After the football team had all exhausted themselves on the mountain of Brian's abdomen, he'd called me over for a chance. At the time I had no idea why, since a life of avoiding sports and generally being a book-worm didn't exactly lend itself to feats of strength, and I of course failed miserably to accomplish anything more than cause a slight ripple on the fat of his round tank. However, thinking back, maybe there was something more to it. Maybe he was trying to get my attention.
So I said to hell with it; I sent him a message asking how he'd been and if he remembered me at all, and then when he didn't immediately respond I decided drinking and sleeping was a good idea after all. Imagine my surprise when the following morning, with only the slightest hangover to blunt my astonishment, he'd responded. He did remember me, and asked if I'd like to get together at a local watering hole. I said sure, I'd be happy to, and we set a time later that week to get together for drinks.
Which is how I ended up here, sitting at a bar, nursing my first beer, wondering if I was completely insane for trying to reconnect with a high school crush. What if I was really looking too far into those faded memories and seeing what I wanted to see, and he's not really into me? Then again, this whole hairbrained scheme got me out of the house. Silver linings and all that.
"Alex?" came a deep rumbling from behind me. I turned around, and there he was, and... my eyes just kept going up and around. He was big. He was a few inches taller than my 5'10'', and definitely heavier than I remembered. That round face had gotten a jowly double chin, his meaty pecs now formed a shelf that sagged over an even wider and rounder belly, and instead of being firm and almost gravity defying it protruded and folded over the front of his jeans obscuring the belt buckle. His arms and legs still looked powerful though, with the added fat now making them strain against the fabric of his clothes. In fact I noticed that most of his clothing was very tight on him, and I could just see the barest sliver of flesh from beneath the hem of his shirt. He looked like he was on the verge of bursting from everything he wore, and the whole effect was really, really hot.
I was a little stunned, but I managed a, "Hey! Brian! How're you? Nice to see you!" Brian returned the pleasantries, and after a slightly awkward hug where I couldn't even reach halfway around him, he ordered a drink and we made our way to a booth to catch up. Getting into the booth was a bit of a challenge for him, and I helpfully pulled the table closer to myself to allow room for his prodigious gut.
"So, what brought you back to this dump?" Brian asked,spreading his arms to indicate the general area; his impressive wingspan nearly knocked over a passing server.
"Well, I started at a tech company right after graduating, but then the economy tanked and the company went under. I just recently moved back home to sort of regroup."
Brian nodded, "Understandable. Lots of people doing it these days."
"Yeah, still doesn't make it any fun," I grumped, slumping over my drink slightly. I looked up. "What about you? I thought you had a scholarship, going to make it big in football."
"Yeah, about that," he rubbed the back of his neck. It was awfully cute to see a big dude like this look even a little embarrassed. "After my sophomore year I took a bad hit during a game, and it shattered my left knee. The school insurance paid for the surgery and the year of physio I had after that, but I never could play again." He finished with a sigh. "It still hurts every now and again, especially when it rains," and I could tell he was rubbing his knee under the table.
"Wow. I had no idea." We both fell silent as we morosely gulped beer, almost simultaneously. I collected myself and pressed onward. "What'd you do after you couldn't play any more?"
Brian was just wiping the foam away from his upper lip with a giant paw and was a moment to answer. "Well, I finished my degree, but there isn't a whole lot of demand for graduates in leisure studies," he chuckled. "So, I moved back home, got a job at a moving company, moved out, got my own place, and well, here we are."
"Yeah, here we are. Well, atleast you have your own place. Moving back in with my parents at nearly 30 wasn't exactly my plan." Another gulp of beer after a rueful chuckle.
Brian was dismissive. "You'll be fine. Engineers can always find work."
"Maybe. Know anybody who's hiring?"
Brian let out a deep, rumbling laugh before finishing his beer, and the sound resonated with my soul. My god, he was adorable. I could feel my highschool crush return in a big way, and I decided then and there I couldn't let the evening end without him knowing it.
"Well, you look good. Real good."
"Uh, thanks?" Uh oh, he doesn't buy it. Time to think fast!
New plan: I'll just liquor him up first! Brilliant! "How about another round?"
"Sure," he offered, and I got up to the bar to order another 2 pints, then thought better of it and ordered a pitcher and 2 glasses. I returned to see Brian raise an eyebrow, but he didn't complain when I filled two glasses and offered him one.
"Cheers!" We tapped glasses, and after that the conversation flowed a bit more easily. We talked about movies, sports, cars, video games, how our university years went, the crazy things we did when we graduated, until eventually I was getting pretty drunk, and let the question I'd been dying to ask slip out.
"So, big guy, when was the last time you got laid?" I hope I hadn't slurred too much.
This actually brought Brian up short. He was definitely not nearly as tipsy as I was, being twice my size (and possibly more), but he still took a moment to reply. "Um, a while ago now. Maybe a year?"
"God, that's way too long," I drained my beer as I shook my head in dismay, and poured myself another.
"What about you, when was your last time?"
"Definitely before I moved out here," I muttered perhaps a little too bitterly, then theatrically held my chin in a pensive look. "Maybe... month ago? He was a nice guy, we hooked up maybe a half dozen times, but it was purely a sex thing and we both knew it wasn't going anywhere." I hoped I sounded cool and debonair.
Brian raised both eyebrows this time. "He?"
Oh, yeah, I wasn't out in high school. Curse you, booze! "Uh, hope that's cool with you?"
"Yeah, that's totally fine with me. In fact, I was sort of hoping."
I nearly bounced out of the booth, and my voice went up several octaves. "Really?! You too? Oh man, that's awesome! I had the biggest crush on you in high school!"
"You did? But you never, I mean-"
"Never what, went up and asked you out? First of all, our school was full of homophobes and I had no idea you wouldn't be one of them. Second, I was a super nerd, still am, but you were on the football team, and our social circles never really crossed. Third of all, it's not like you couldn't have asked me out! I call a false assumption!"
"OK, but can you please stop yelling?" Brian looked around a bit nervously, and I sat back down a little sheepishly. Time for another drink.
Now Brian looked back at me with a slight smirk. "So you had a crush on me, huh?"
"Yeah. You're what I'd call a quadruple B: Big, Blonde, Blue-eyed Behemoth." Brian snorted in amusement and finished his drink, and I helpfully poured him another.
"So, what if I did ask you out, big guy. Would I have had a chance then?"
Now it was his turn to exaggerate considering the question, and he eventually came back "Yeah, I think so."
"And what about now?"
Brian just smiled back genuinely.
I blinked, realizing what that smile meant, then finished the dregs of the pitcher and asked for the cheque.
Brian lived in a nice building near what would laughably be called downtown in our little city, but it was a relatively spacious bachelor apartment. Ikea decorated, nice TV, clean, warm earth tones. Of course, at this point I was more than a little drunk, so as soon as we stepped in through the door I was all over him. As he threw his keys on the kitchen counter I embraced him from behind, and slipped my hands under his shirt to feel the soft skin of his tummy.
Brian chuckled warmly, and the vibration from that deep chest was felt all the way to my groin, which was getting warmer by the second. "Not one to waste time, are you?"
"I think I've waited long enough," I murmured, as I playfully nibbled the dense meat of his shoulder, bringing my hands down to try and reach his inner thighs, but my arms just weren't long enough. Instead I drunkenly groped his quads, which were bigger around than my waist.
"God, you're built like a tank," I purred, voice muffled by the meat of his shoulder.
He turned around, and I'm forced to take a step back or else be struck by the boulder of his gut. Then this giant bull of a man took me into his arms and leaned over slightly to kiss me, his drunkenly questing tongue already searching for mine, and I returned it eagerly. This goes on for some moments, him wrapping a paw-like hand around the back of my neck, me grasping as much of his geography as I could reach, us making out in the middle of his living room. Finally I lost patience, and begin to frantically lift his tight t-shirt over the globe of his front to reveal the behemoth it barely contained.
He really was built like a tank; no neck, just a round head attached to impossibly wide shoulders, sloping smoothly into the tectonic plates of his chest, each chubby pec sagging under its own weight, only to be propped up by the most enormous, round belly I'd ever seen. Sparse blond hairs covered his entire form, only slightly thicker on the arms and armpits. His eraserhead nipples were both erect, and I playfully pinched one. He gave an appreciative rumble, and proceeded to help me out of my own shirt as well, chuckling only slightly as it got caught around my drunken head. He gazed down at my slim, trim form and again made an appreciative sound, then leaned over to continue our makeout session.
With our shirts off I could use my hands to explore my titanic lover, and I traced my arms all over his impossibly broad back, wide and soft chest, and the mountain of his middle. He was soft and round and smooth all over, the excess fat like a suit of armour, each massive plate contoured to each curve, his movements smooth as an oiled machine. And underneath it all I could feel a powerful, dense musculature. so much stronger than my own slight frame.
No sooner had I thought this than he brought both massive paws down to grasp me firmly by each ass cheek, and he hauled me onto his jutting torso, carrying me like I was no more than a bag of groceries. I gave a surprised "Whoop!" around his lips as we continued to kiss, then with lumbering steps he carried me to the bedroom while I clung to him tightly. Feeling this power in motion was an incredible thrill, and I was already achingly hard, which I'm sure he could feel pressed firmly into the upper curve of his mound.
We reached the entrance to the bedroom, and he removed a hand from my ass to flick on the lights, then carried me one-handed to the foot of the bed. I could feel more than see his free hand reach below the equator of his belly to undo his belt, then the thump of his jeans hitting the hardwood floor. Before I could slide down his front to reach below and feel this now naked titan, he dropped me gently to the bed, and I give another surprised yelp as I bounced off the mattress. No sooner had I come to a stop does he grasp each pant leg and yank them off of me, so quickly it took my boxers with them.
I was given only a moment to appreciate the view of this meat mountain from the mattress before he's on top of me, moving impossibly fast for a man his size. Brian orally assaulted my face, cheek, and neck, completely enveloping me, careful to not drop his full weight on me, but letting just enough of his bulk down to pin me beneath him. I squirm, my hands frantically grasping all over his elephantine backside, my aching hardon squashed firmly into his soft underbelly, pre leaking and lubricating the flesh between us.
If he had continued like this I'm sure I would have cum just from the incredible stimulation, but at about that point I begin to feel something pressing against my inner thigh. Being completely covered by this colossus meant I couldn't bring a hand down to investigate, but it then crawled its way up to my groin, right beside my own cock. Right then, it hit me: it was a massive dick. It was like a third arm wedged between his enormous body and mine, and it was starting to leak its own steady stream of pre, dampening my entire crotch.
I desperately wanted to see this humongous cock, but he had other plans. Still keeping me pinned beneath him, I could feel him reach into a bedside drawer for a condom and lube. Had I been completely sober, I likely would have demanded he stop and rethink this plan, or at least allow me to perform some deep breathing and yoga exercises to try and accommodate an organ I could only assume to be roughly kielbasa sized. Instead, I moaned eagerly around his lips and giggled, which he took as my permission to continue.
Continue he did, again using a somewhat magical ability to accomplish with one hand nearly any task completely blind, as he shifted his colossal frame, rolled on the condom and lubed both himself and me without ever getting up or taking his eyes off mine. I gasped as I felt one of his sausage fingers enter me, the thick digit gently coaxing me to relax, and soon it was up to the knuckle, then followed by a second. This began to get uncomfortable, and I grimaced as I was penetrated by fingers twice the size of a normal man, just like the rest of him. Eventually my plaintive moans died down, and he wiped his hand off on a bedsheet, then lifted both my legs around the top of his impressive middle where they rested comfortably in his padded armpits, and aligned his member with my loosened hole.
I had a few moments this time to appreciate the view; his round, beaming face smiling down at me, his belly spilling into my lap over my own throbbing erection, the light casting deep shadows over the edifice of his colossal chest. Then, he leaned in, brought both hands down to grasp me by the waist, and pushed inside.
He was slow, careful, even gentle, all the things that a first time top should be with someone they've never been with. But none of that matters when you're pushing in a dick the size of a building. My yelp in pain as he pushed past my ring was just short of a scream, and he stopped after pushing what felt like a fist-sized cock-head inside me. I gripped the bedsheets, gulped a few times, caught my breath and willed myself to relax. Once it seemed I had calmed down, Brian leaned forward, pressing in further, a look of intense concentration on his face that only a very drunk, very horny man trying desperately not to ram his entire length in and start pounding away could manage.
Inch after inch kept pressing into me until I was convinced I would look down and see him punching through my ribcage. Yet as each inch went the next became easier and easier, and the pain receded slowly until I had the most wonderful feeling of fullness. After what seemed an eternity he bottomed out, and I could feel my aching erection pump out a dollop of pre as the pleasure finally overcame my discomfort. Brian looked down over the crest of his belly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and I nodded my approval for him to continue.
At first, he barely moved, more just wiggled inside me, letting me feel his well padded groin resting against my cheeks. Then he would allow himself to slide out an inch then press back slowly, ensuring I could still take his size. I let out a gasp with his thrust, but he knew from the tone it was only of pleasure, so he picked up speed. As he did the shelf of his mound treated me to the soft, supple skin of his under-belly, already lubed with my pre, rubbing my cock in time with each of his thrusts.
It wasn't long before he leant in further, belly pressing into me harder as he lay each fist on the bed beside my head, rutting me like a gorilla. Each thrust was slow, powerful, inexorable, sweat dripping off his forehead to splash on to mine. The feeling of being claimed by this beast of a man, of being filled more than I'd ever been, and the constant friction of soft flesh on my turgid manhood was bringing me to peak much sooner than my drunken mind had planned. I clenched down, hard, trying to delay, but nothing could stop this behemoth, each thrust pushing all thought aside, battering me senseless.
But with each clench I would receive a deep grunt, getting louder and louder, and while the rhythm of his lovemaking never changed I knew he was getting close when his grunts turned to moans, then turned to growls. Finally I could feel his thrusts change to be short, insistent jerks, and with a deep bellow he came, filling me with his seed.
For me it was sensory overload; his massive log hammering my prostate, his quaking flesh rapidly caressing my own cock, I couldn't hold back any longer. I came longer and harder than I ever have, completely coating our respective bellies in my jizz. The crashing waves of my orgasm caused me to clench again, eliciting appreciative grunts and milking this bull for all he was worth.
Eventually the pleasure subsided, and I opened my eyes to again see that beaming face staring down at me, now flushed red and breathing heavily.
I giggled at him, feeling like I'd accomplished something monumental.
"This is probably the booze talking, but I don't think I'll be able to walk right for a week after this."
With this Brian gave a hearty laugh that shook his belly thoroughly, milking my own spent cock for its last dregs. Eventually he would soften and exit my over-taxed hole (and I swear I heard a thump as it hit the mattress), and we fell asleep in each other's arms. Maybe moving home wasn't such a bad idea after all.