It's a Growing Sport part 3

After the server had come and gotten our drink order, we stood and made our way to the buffet line. When getting in line, everyone was required to put on a mask, sanitize their hands, and then put on gloves before grabbing plates. You entered in on one side of the room, and the line wound is way alone the counter of food. This limited the spread of germs, keeping the food as clean for everyone as possible, and reduced a traffic jam.

We both grabbed two plates before we made our way through the line. The buffet tables were packed with so many types of foods that I lost count. There was chicken, turkey, beef, pork, ribs, steak, beans, broccoli, corn, peas, beats, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cauliflower, scones, rolls, shrimp, oysters and clams, crab legs, and lobster tails. And that was just to name a few.

As we made our way through the line I filled my first plate with chicken and steak, with mashed potatoes, gravy, shrimp, green beans, and corn. My second plate had shredded pork, bbq ribs, carrots, baked beans, and a couple rolls.

Coach followed behind me, picking out much of what I had, but making extra stops to pick up beats, broccoli, beef, mushrooms, and noodles. I thought my plates were full, but he expertly piled on double of what I had on my plates. As we made our way back to our table, I feared that he may drop something. Amazingly, he didn't. We sat and dug in.

We made small talk about activities we did outside of class or football. I tended to play video games, got roped into going over and doing hard work for my dad, otherwise I'd be out hanging with friends. Coach lived a much more exciting life. He went on hikes, swam or tanned at the beach, and went to the bars every now and then with some of his old college buddies.

By the time an hour rolled passed I was slowing down half way through my third plate of food. Coach, to my dismay, was finishing his 4th plate. When I thought he was slowing on his 3rd, he simply adjusted his belt and pushed forward. As he cleared his 4th plate he gestured toward my still half full dish.

"You're slowing down a bit. I thought you'd have a bigger appetite than this." He said with a raise brow.

I sat up, took a deep breath and pushed on, hurriedly emptying my third plate, before sitting back in my chair with a groan. I put my hand on my full stomach, feeling the slight bloat I had going. "I'm sorry, coach. I'm trying."

"It's okay, kiddo." He adjusted in his seat a little, and I got a glimpse of his polo shirt taut against his gut, which also had bloated a bit. No longer the slim six pack, now he looked as though he had an extra tire starting to form on his middle. He took a sip of his tea and stifled a belch. "It's just the first day. Your appetite will increase over time. Now, with you seeming to be finished, why don't you get us a couple bowls of ice cream from the machine. I'll take chocolate. Let the cream fill the empty spaces."

"Sure coach," I grumbled as I stood. Letting out a belch of my own. Making my way to the ice cream machine, I grabbed two bowels. I filled mine with vanilla and coach's with chocolate as he asked, then scurried my way back to the table.

When I arrived, coach was in the middle of a 5th plate of food, with a 6th set aside. Both of which looked as though they had about the same amount as my first. But I couldn't believe coach was still eating. I set his ice cream down in front of him a I sat.

"Ah, good lad." He said as he picked up the bowl of ice cream and ate it rapidly. Spooning bite after bite into his mouth. Upon noticing my gaze at his two plates any him slurping the ice cream down, he chuckled and wiped his mouth, cleaning some the dark cream that spilled to his chin. "It's good to eat the ice cream before it melts. The cold cream can sooth the stomach and help you digest."

I didn't say anything. I just began to eat my ice cream as I watched him devour his last two plates of food. By the time I finished my dessert, he had finished both plates and was finishing his tea by chugging the remaining half of its contents. He set the glass down and gave a closed mouth belch that rumbled in his throat, doing his best to contain it.

"Whoo, that was delicious." He said, wiping his mouth again. He dug out his wallet and left a tip on the table. "Now, let's get going. Gotta start step two in your new routine."

I have a nod and stood. Coach groaned as he stood, once at his full 6 foot height, he glanced down at his stomach, which was now bloated enough that his tucked in blue polo curve to reveal the significant bloat he was now sporting. His stomach curved out just enough that it bulged over his belt by about five inches, possibly more.

"Oof, I really over did it today." He said as he put a hand on his gut and gave it a squeeze. "You better start working on out eating me, or I'm going to have a problem on my hands."

We both chuckled and I let him lead the way to the counter. The way his muscular ass filled his jeans had my heart racing and something bulging in my pants a little. At the counter he told me to wait outside for him while he paid the bill.

Outside I did my best to adjust myself before coach let out a belch behind me. I turned to see him with his hands on his lower back as he leaned backwards and stretched. Which in turn pushed out his gut more, making him look bigger, and getting my cock to jump all over again. After his stretch he gestured toward his car. A red 2019 mustang.

"Now, I want you to follow me in your car. You're going to be coming to my house, where you'll work out for a few hours. You'll then have lunch. Relax a little. Then another quick work out before dinner."

"Y-your house?" I didn't know what to say. I mean, sure, I was an adult, living on my own. But he was my coach, and he was inviting me over? "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure," He said with a laugh. "I'm your coach, and I'm helping you with your new routine. Unless you'd rather not. 'Course without my help you'll never make linebacker."

"No!" I paused, stunned by my own reaction. "I'll.. I'll go. It's fine. It was just odd that you were inviting me to your home. But it makes sense."

"Excellent," he patted my back, still with a hand on his gut. "Now, follow behind me. It's not a long drive."

I couldn't help it. My heart was racing.