My Neighbor

You know those people that you see on the streets or in Cafes and got desperately wish you could stare at them all day? Well that's the type of guy my neighbor is. Prefect lumberjack type.

His name it's Stan. Big muscular frame that stretched his shirt sleeves, pec curves noticeable through his shirt itself. Big powerful legs, with a round plump bubble butt that stretched the rear of any jeans. Abs that you could wash laundry against. Beautiful trimmed dark brown hair, and a beard touched his chest, both with speckles of gray. Beautiful green eyes. A voice that rumbled like thunder. I had also seen him shirtless one day, while watching him from my bedroom window while he did yard work. And I'll tell you, he was covered in thick brown body hair, his chest showing signs of graying.

I can't deny that he had caught me staring a few times. Once, I think he even saw me jerking off in my window while I watched him work. I had never moved away from that window faster. But he never said anything, so I guessed he didn't notice me. I hope. It would be awkward to have that conversation with him.

He had moved in next door about 9 months ago. No signs of a wife or kids. Just him. No dog. No cat. Just him.

I had always had an interest in big burly men like him. But most guys I was into always had extra meet in the middle that bulged or rolled over their belt. Every now and then I'd invite a guy over, and I'd get off to feeding or fucking his belly. I'd often find myself burying my face or cock in their fat gut whenever I could.

In the first 3 months of my neighbor living in the block, he had on more than one occasion seen me walking a guy out to the car. Pretty sure he noticed me kiss them or rub their belly. Because I even caught him staring a few times.

At one point, Stan had invited a few neighbors around the block, including myself, over for a BBQ. We had gotten lost in conversation about how we were both single, that life just didn't seem to work out that way for us. When the conversation shifted to our disinterest in sports, I noticed he was chowing down on what had to be his third hot dog, after he had already eaten two burgers, and I noticed his stomach was a bit bloated behind his brown t-shirt.

"You must be hungry," I mentioned, gesturing as he took his last bite of the dog. "You're really packing it all away."

He chuckled and gave his bloated gut a little pat. "What can I say? I enjoy a good hot dog and burger. Meat always tastes better when it's between a bun."

I couldn't help but laugh. Maybe it was my imagination of him flirting with me. That, or he didn't realize how he made it sound. Either way, I couldn't stop imagining him eating everything he had grilled, and him ending up with a large round gut sticking out of his shirt. I eventually was getting too aroused from the fantasy that I had excused myself to go home soon are and jerked off to the idea a few times.

The next several months changed dramatically.

I found myself cooking a lot. But it wasn't for me. I'd cook up a nice roast, or pie, or some other big food I could put into a large dish and took it over to Stan. Using the excuse that I was "just bring neighborly". I even started inviting friends and Stan over for movie nights or marathons, where I would order pizza, or wings, or fried chicken, or any other tasty fatty food you could buy quickly for friendly events. Just being neighborly. I lied to myself. And my plan was working.

Over the next 6 months I noticed that Stan had started putting on weight. His middle was looking more and more bloated by the week. More and more round by the month. By the 7th month of him living next door, I noticed most of his shirts were coving his gut fully anymore, and I'd catch a glimpse of a sliver of hairy flesh that would peek out to say hello to me. By the 8th month of him living next door, his gut had swelled so rapidly, looking so big and round that he looked as though he were pregnant. The rest of his musculature body stayed considerably fit to my surprise. But his gut was now stretching the shirts that he was tucking in, and it was starting to roll nicely over his belt. And seeing him do yard work now was heaven on earth, seeing his hairy gut glisten with sweat and nice ever so slightly.

Sadly, I didn't see much of him this recent month. None full months since he had moved in. I was afraid he had gotten sick. I hadn't seen him working in the yard much lately, probably with it being fall now. But he hadn't even joined my friends and I for our get togethers, and I was growing worried. That is, until I got a call.

"Hello," I said as I picked up the line.

"Hey neighbor," Stan's voice rumbled from the other line.

"Hey, how are you doing? Haven't heard from you in a bit. You okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm great," he said with confidence. But then his tone changed slightly, he sounded almost nervous. "Hey, I was calling to invite you over. I have something I made for you, as a thank you for being so neighborly, and was hoping you'd come pick it up."

"Oh, yeah, but you didn't have to."

"It was no problem, I actually enjoyed it. And I hope you do too. So how 'bout it?  Swing by in 5 minutes?"

"Oh, um, yeah sure. I'll be right over."

We both hung up. I was curious, what could he have made for me? It would explain why he had been around lately. Busy making a gift. But for me? I didn't hesitate to had next door.

I knocked once. Then twice. Before I heard his voice. "It's open."

I opened the door, closing it behind me as I waited into his home. Everything was clean, and their was a nice smell of a freshly cooked meal sat in the air.

"Hey Stan," I called out. "It's me."

"Hey, thanks for coming, I'm in the kitchen."

"Oh, sorry," I said as I made my way down the hall to the kitchen, where I found him standing behind the high counter. He was wearing a white tank and he was putting a fresh cooked turkey into the counter top. "I didn't realize you were cooking. You said you had made something for me to pick up?"

He smiled as he put the oven mittens on the counter as well. "Yes, about that. I did make something for you. And I figured you'd like a nice meal to celebrate and have with it."

"I'm a bit confused," I stated with a raised brow. "What kind of gift could you make that goes with a full cooked turkey?"

"Well," he said with a smirk. He then turned and walked out from behind the counter. "This one."

He stood in front of me, wearing his faded blue jeans that hugged his meaty ass. I wish I could say that he was standing with his dick out. But no. It was better. His right arm flexed as his hand rubbed the underside of his gut that protruded over his belt, his hairy gut was now so big and round that his white tank top was stretched tight over it and could no longer pass his belly button. In fact, it stopped a good inch above it. And his belly button had grown so deep and dark with belly hair that I found it extremely inviting. I swore he must have put on another 15-20 pounds in the last month.

"Damn, Stan." I couldn't take my eyes of his gut. I was rock hard. "You've gotten huge."

"I thought you'd enjoy it." He said as he stepped closer to me. "I noticed you staring at me from your window. And that time you were jerking off."

My face instantly went red. "Ah, I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't be, I was flattered. I loved the attention." He was now standing a foot away from me. I could smell how cologne and it was amazing. "But, I noticed you liked the bigger guys. I saw you walking them to their car, the way you rubbed their gut before they left. I wanted relationship like that. My ex, he hated when I gained weight, and wanted me working out to work off the fat. But it gets tiresome. But after I saw the way you watched me. The way you rubbed another man's gut. I got jealous. So, I started working on growing. I was trying to flirt with you at the bbq. But I guess you didn't notice."

"No, I thought you were. But I just thought I was imagining it. Or you didn't mean to say it."

"Well, here's your second chance. I grew this not only for me, but for you as well." He said as he gave his gut a bounce. "So, what do you think of your gift? It's yours, if you'll have me."

I looked up and stared into his green eyes. They glistened like jade. I couldn't resist any longer.

I kissed him.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me close, pushing his gut against me as he kissed me back. Using his gut, he pushed me back and turned me until my back was to the wall. He pulled back from the kiss and released a deep belch right into my face as he pushed his gut into me more.

He froze and pulled back. "Uh, sorry. Excuse me. I didn't mean-"

I grabbed a handful of his beard and smiled. "Don't ever apologize for belching or ripping ass around me. It's natural, and I think it's hot when my hog does it."

"Oh, so I'm your hog, huh?"

I smiled and he kissed me passionately. My hands roamed his hairy tank, as did his own, while his other hand squeezed my ass. He then gave me a smile.

"Well," he began, doing his best to catch his breath. "You're hog is hungry. What do you say we eat, and you feed me whatever is left."

My heart skipped.

"You read my mind."