It's a Growing Sport Part 6

By the third month of this entire routine I had grown accustom to the it and pushed myself even further. I was now eating 7 plates of food during our weekend buffet trips. Even with coach occasional helping me force in the last little bit of food I could. Coach, of course, had managed to work his way up to 10, continuing to keep my position of linebacker out of my reach.

My muscles had swelled in an amazingly short amount of time, growing to be at least three times of what I started. My chest was strong and my middle had initially rounded out, but I managed to bring it back to a muscle gut. I needed to keep my figure after all. I had changed so dramatically in such a short time, and had started getting stares from many classmates and team members. I had started getting invited out to parties now, being considered an actual part of the team now.

Coach, on the other hand, was getting stares for another reason. Coach had gone from his lean athletic physic, to a full on pot bellied dadbod. His arms and legs had thickened just slightly enough to be noticeable, keeping his slim physic. But with all the eating he had been doing with me, his gut had rounded out rather nicely and had rolled over his belt just enough to hide the belt buckle. Even when he walked his gut would noticeably bounce or jiggle just slightly. I had offered to take the left overs home, but he had said not to worry about it, and he that he needed something to eat the following day. But I had the sneaking suspicion that he had eaten the rest of the food the same night, because he always looked more bloated the next morning, and his gut had ballooned over the few months.

It was getting harder and harder for me to focus during our weekend meals and without sessions. Several times his hairy gut had even bumped into my face during my benching session while he spotted me. He apologized and joked about how his gut was getting too big and that he needed to buy bigger clothes.

By the end of the month, I had had it. Football season would soon be coming to an end, and coach had done nothing but just egg me on and keep my goal from me. I had decided that enough was enough. Today I would make my move.

When we met at the buffet, coach looked extremely pregnant as he hauled himself out of his car, letting his gut lead his way. Today he wasn't wearing his typical polo. Instead, today he had a red dress shirt, fabric and buttons stretched taut across his gut. He kept the top button undone to give room to his thickening neck and forming double chin. With him originally being a slim guy, this shirt made his new guy look slightly disproportionate from the rest of his body.

Once inside, he didn't wait to get seated, he went directly for the food bar. I waited for him to return with his two plates stacked high with food, before I went for my own. Even I returned he had finished his first plate and was halfway through his second. The waiter came with our drinks, and when coach turned to thank him, I used the distraction to scrape some food from my plate onto his. I had memorized what he had gotten and did my best to get the same, hoping to cause him to eat more without being noticed.

This went on for the majority of the hour. He'd finish his plate and get more food. I'd wait to finish mine for when he returned. Memorize what he had, go get my new plates. Wait for him to turn away, and then push something from my plate to his while he was distracted.

It worked. For the most part. I had him eating nearly a full plate and a half with every sitting. By the time I made it to my 8th plate (really 6 and a half), he was barely finishing his 8th, having eaten an equivalent of 12 plates of food. He had slowed dramatically of course, desperate to keep his lead. He was sitting up right, both hands resting on the table, holding his silverware when I heard a subtle POW, and a stinging against my shin. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair with a large groan. His gut looked very distended, his shirt had become untucked and was now missing the lower button, exposing the bottom of his tight hairy gut. I realized then that it had been his button that had caused the pain in my shin.

He put a hand on the top of his bloated gut. "UUUUURRRRRRRP! Man, I'm off my game today. UURRP!"

I gave a smile and went to get my next plate. Upon my return, coach had put his silverware down completely and was doing nothing except holding his gut and belching at this point. I sat and eased my way through my 7th plate, smiling when coach counted my ninth.

"Well, Fletcher. Looks like you managed to outeat me today. UURRRP! Well done. But it wasn't a proper win." He said and my heart dropped. Had he noticed my ploy? Had I been caught? I was about to come clean, until he continued. "I just wasn't into the groove this morning. But, you still have lunch and dinner to prove yourself. What do you say we head out and get started?"

"Gladly, coach. I'll make this a night you won't forget anytime soon." I said with a smile as I pulled him up from his chair. His round protruding gut bumping into me firmly. We shared a laugh and headed to our vehicles.

During the workout session we both were having a difficult time. Coach had changed from his buttoned dress shirt to one of his usual polos, this time it was purple. I watched as he rubbed his gut with one hand, while he would reach down and grab a weight for the bar for me. The way his gut rolled over his waistline was so amazing. The way the fabric of his shirt stretched and cradled his gut. I could tell that he was uncomfortably stuffed and it was hard for him to move and carry his gut. And it was driving me crazy. I had to adjust my throbbing erection every few minutes just to keep it hidden.

When lunch rolled around, coach had made spaghetti again. He managed to eat 4 plates, while I managed to eat 6. Using the same trick I had at the buffet. Coach had continued to bloat, and now his polo had become untucked once again.

"That's two meals that I've managed to out eat you, coach." I said with a smirk. "Am I linebacker material now?"

"Bah, you still have dinner to prove yourself, boy." He replied as he leaned back in his chair, giving his exposed hairy underbelly a scratch. "UUURRRRRPPP! Man, I don't know why I'm not eating as much today. But that'll change at dinner."

Now I was frustrated. Why was he so adamant about not making me linebacker? Hadn't I proven myself? I had bulked up dramatically. What was it going to take? I continued to lift out of frustration. I was going to make sure that after dinner he would make me a linebacker.

Time flew by, and before I knew it we were sitting down for the last meal of the day. Mashed potatoes, assortment of vegetables, turkey, had, and roast beef. It was enough to feed 12 people, with seconds. But it was all meant for us.

I ate a few plates, maybe 3. But coach was pushing himself hard this time. By the time I was done eating, coach had forced his way to 7 plates. His shirt had risen an inch or two, exposing more of his hairy flesh. When he eventually leaned back in his chair, he removed his hat and tossed it onto the couch, revealing his balding spot. He had sweat on his forehead and he was panting heavily.

"Ha! UURRRP! There. . Ya see, Fletcher?  UUURRRP! I knew it was just a fluke." He smiled as he patted his gut. "This old man 's still got it."

"Yeah, good job, coach." I said with a small voice as I stood and took my dishes to the sink.

"Oy, what's wrong with you, boy?" He scowled as he watched me make my way back to him.

"Why are you so adamant about me not making lineman?" I said with folded arms as I glared down at him.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I push myself and push myself, harder than I've ever done before. Yet, you keep pushing to keep my goal out of reach. At this rate I won't be linebacker before the season ends. You keep letting me get closer and pushing to eat more. What's the deal?"

"No deal," he shrugged. "You just need to prove that you have what it takes. Plus, I like food. But I'll have to shed this weight before too long, so I can-"

"Make the Ironman. I know." I interrupted. I rolled my eyes with frustration and spotted a towel hanging on the back of the leather recliner. "Just more excuses."

I grabbed the towel, and with a swift motion pulled both his hands behind the chair. I wrapped the towel around his wrists and tied it tight, using my eagle scout knowledge of knots to tie one that he wouldn't easily get out of.

"Fletcher! What are you doing?" He exclaimed as he struggled against me and his bindings.

"You say you like food. So I'll give you food, coach. I'll give you all the food." I walked around beside him, grabbed his jaw tightly, forcing opening his mouth, before I grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes and forced it into his open mouth. I then used the same hand to cover his lips, preventing him from spitting it out, while I moved my other hand from his jaw to the back of his head, keeping him from pulling back.

"Swallow it." I ordered.

"Mm-mm" He muffled, shaking his head no.

"Swallow it, you fat fuck!" I shouted in response. He hesitated by eventually did as I said. I removed my hand from his mouth and grabbed me. "Good. Now, open up."

"Fletcher, stop this immediately, before-mmph!" I cut him off by shoving beef into his mouth this time.

"Like hell!" I say as I forced him to chew and swallow and then force turkey into his mouth next. "You want to eat so badly? You want to keep my goals out of my reach so badly? I'll make sure your goal for running the Ironman is out of your reach, old man!"

His eyes went wide as I forced ham into his mouth, followed by more potatoes. Then corn and carrots. Next cauliflower and peas. Beef, they turkey, then ham.

"Have I made linebacker yet?" I ask before forcing more food into his mouth the moment he swallowed and opened his lips to speak. "What about now? Now, coach?"

Never giving him a chance to say a word. Hearing only his grumbles and groans as I forced him to eat and eat and eat. All the while he continued to struggle. My cock was hard as a rock, and I had stopped trying to hide it. I kept my bulge in full view of him, making sure he knew I was enjoying this. His shirt had risen even more, now beginning to show the opening of his hairy navel.

He finished swallowing his mouthful of food. "Fletcher, please wait. Just listen to me."

I reached down and gave his tight swollen gut a rub and pat. I gave it a squeeze and gentle bounce. This just caused him to release a large belch, followed closely by a moan of pleasure as he closed his eyes.

I looked at his face and saw that he truly was enjoying the way the I was touching and rubbing his gut. I only smiled. I could feel my cock dripping in my pants.

"Well well, it looks like the fat old man actually likes having his gut played with." I moved and knelt in front of him, rubbing a hand across his exposed hairy gut, using my other hand to squeeze his thigh a bit. "You like before a fat hog, coach? You enjoy having your full gut rubbed? And what if I did this?"

I leaned down and kissed his roll of fat that was sticking out from under his shirt.

"Fletcher, please. Ooh." He sighed deeply.

"Interesting. And if I do this?" I pushed my face into the spot where his gut rested on his thigh. I have a small luck to his gut, followed by a small nibble. He only moaned with pleasure in response. "I thought so."

I then began running my hand from his knee, up his thigh and under his heavy gut. "And what does being such a fat hog do to you?"

That was when I found it. I could feel his cock throbbing within his jeans. I gave it a good squeeze. He closed his eyes and groaned, and I felt his cock twitch.

"I thought so." I grinned evilly as I stood and stepped up next to him, pushing my body into his side, my erection bulging in my pants now rubbing against his bulging chest. I wiped my greasy hand on his shirt, then gave his pecs a squeeze. "You know something, coach? I've enjoyed these last few months with you. Bulking up and working out. Eating out. But if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to bulk up to. Or more along the lines of fatten up. You've gained so much weight over these last few months, and you're looking amazing. I think you need a few more."

"Fletcher, I-" he began, but I but him off with more food.

This went on for another hour and a half. I forced more and more food into his mouth, and waited for him to swallow. Only for me to force me in. He had completely given up on fighting back now, and just gave in to the feeding. He was moaning and belching every few minutes. His shirt continued to rise up his gut with every passing minute.

By the time the table had been completely emptied, save for one more bite of potatoes, coach's gut was so full and swollen that his polo had ridden so high on his gut that his navel had become completely exposed. His shirt now rested for inches above his deep hairy navel. His gut was so swollen and so packed with food, that even through all his this fur I could see that it was shining in the kitchen lighting. He had sweat dripping down his brow, and soaking the collar and front of his shirt. His head had lulled forward from the deep stupor he was now in. At some point his belt had given up and snapped, and now hung loosely on both sides of the chair.

His gut was so hairy. So swollen. So plump. So round. Even his love handles looked full and swollen. I couldn't take anymore.

I grabbed him by the thin hair on the back of his head and pulled, causing him to wince as I forced his head back so I could look down at him. I forced the last bit of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

While he chewed I eyed his handsome face, his gorgeous eyes, his strong arms and chest, and his plump hairy gut bulging from his shirt. God he was beautiful. I figured I'd be off the team and have a restraining order against me after today, so.. I took the full plunge.

I undid my pants and let them fall to the floor. I kicked them aside as I began stroking my cock. I stepped closer and slapped it against the taut surface of his gut, leaving a sticky spot of precum on his gut. It thumped like a full barrel. He just groaned and gave a belch. He looked so full, his gut reached past the middle of his thighs. This fat hog had eaten so much over the last few months, gotten so fat. And tonight, he ate like a king.

I stepped in front of him and rubbed against his hairy tank. He groaned a bit louder, which only drove me to push against his harder, forcing out a large BWAAAOOOOORRRRRRRRUUUUUP! God it was so hot listening to his belch and groan. He looked so fucking hot with his gut so big and full.

I looked down at his hairy navel and it almost seemed to call out to me. I wanted to. No. I needed to.

I aimed my cock and thrust into his deep hairy navel. This woke him up enough to cry out in pain. His gut was so full, so jam packed with food, that it barely had any give to it. I knew he was most likely in severe discomfort. But feeling my cock in his tight hairy navel, pulling and sucking on me like a warm mouth or piece of ass, I wanted more. I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled as I thrust harder. With he thrust he cried out again and again, occasionally being interrupted by a belch that wavered to my thrusting.

"Oh god, coach! You're so fat!" I said, getting only his belching in return. "Your gut is so big and tight. Fuck. I've wanted you for so long. I've wanted to make you bigger. I'm going to make to bigger. Going to turn you into my fat hairy hog."

"Aw, fuck!" He cried out, his cheeks still full of food. "Ah fuck! My gut!  Ow- UURP UURRP UURP! Oh fuck! I feel like-UURP- like I'm gonna-URP- pop! Ooww! OOWW!"

"Fuck yeah, coach!" I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back again. "Fuck yeah, coach!" I leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips, his mouth full of food. Surprisingly, he kissed me back.

I moaned loudly as I began to cum deep in his navel. I suddenly felt his hands clasps into my muscular ass and pull me closer. He gave a deep groan which turned into a long deep belch, and I felt him bucking his hips beneath me, bouncing his gut on my cock even more, which only empowered my ejaculation. My seed began to spill out of his navel, creating a sucking noise as we both bucked and climaxed as one. I panted heavily, our foreheads resting against each other's.

Once I had calmed down enough to clear my head, I stepped back in shock. I had been so lost in the moment. So lost in ecstasy, that I never noticed.

He was untied.

He just put his hands on his bulging gut and grinned. "It's about time, boy."

"What?  When did you? How did you?" I stammered.

"I've been untied for a while now, boy." He chuckled.

"And you didn't do anything to escape?" I exclaimed.

"Of course not. I've been waiting." He said with a shrug.

"Waiting for fucking what?" I was shouting now.

"For you to take control and show dominance." He answered while rubbing his gut.

"Wh-what?"

He chuckled again. "Fletcher. Being a linebacker means you need to the dominate force on the field. Making sure to use your strength and power to keep the opposing team back. YOU need to be the one in control. I was pushing you to get you to realize that. It may not have happened how I expected it to. But you did it."

"So... all of this was a test?"

He grinned and gave a nod. "Indeed it was." He then caught some of my cum dripping from his navel and rubbed it all over his gut. "And you're right. I do enjoy how fat I've been getting."

"But, coach..I just... I just.. I lost control and I... I'm sorr-" he stopped my stammering by taking my hand and pulling me to him.

He wrapped an arm around behind me and help me close. "Don't be sorry for taking control of the situation. And besides," he reached up and ran a hand under my shirt, rubbing his hand across my strong torso. "I've always found you rather attractive as well. When you asked me to help you bulk up, I was more than eager."

"So, this entire thing was just a way for us both to spend time with each other?" I gave a nod, baffled by all of this.

He chuckled again. "Yep. Funny how things work out, huh. Also, I loved what you said." He took hold of my shirt and pulled me down until I was face to face with him. He then brushed his thumb along my chin. "When you called me a fat old man, and that you were going to make your fat hog. Did you mean it?"

I looked him in the eyes. My heart was racing. I didn't know what to say. Just what to do.

I leaned forward and planted a deep kiss on his lips. As he kissed me back, I reached down and rubbed my hand across his hairy, sticky, cum covered belly, causing him to groan as we continued to kiss. When we eventually parted I was smiling wide and was hard as a rock once again.

He grinned back at me as he ran his brushed his fingers along my cheek. "Good."