Since I am studying figure drawing in art class at the moment, and some people in the past have asked me for tutorials on how to draw the gems, I wanted to start doing this kind of project where I break down all the gems’ bodies into the very mannequin shapes their physical forms come from.
I wanted to start with Pearl, Lapis, Peri, and the Zircons just because…I don’t know. They were the first characters that came to mind.
One thing that you need to keep in mind with drawing all of the gems is that their bodies are basically made out of shapes.
A gem’s form comes from a mannequin-like silhouette, as depicted when gems reform on the show. Once you learn how to break a gem’s design down into the basic mannequin form and also map out their facial proportions, it should be easier to draw them. At least, it was for me. The reason why I can draw most of the gems with ease is because I break down their bodies into basic shapes before actually drawing their features. It’s not rocket science by any stretch, but it’s not easy as pie either. It takes a bit of practice.
Some notes about Pearl’s, Lapis’, Peridot’s, and the Zircons’ designs:
- Pearl’s body is a slender, rectangular shape. Her bust and hips are small, and even at size. She has a long, pointed noise, and large eyes. She has long, slender limbs.
- Lapis’ body is a slender pear shape. She has a moderate bust and wide hips. Her nose is like Pearl’s, but it is more narrow and flattened. She has plump cheeks.
- Peridot’s body is small hourglass shape. She has a large bust and wide hips. Her mouth is typically drawn on the lower half of her face, suggesting she has an overbite. She has noticeably large calves, and small hands and feet. She has a pointed chin.
- The Zircons might not be entirely accurate, as they were referenced from fan-made vectors, but their body types do stay relatively consistent throughout their episode. The Zircons’ bodies are a slender, inverted triangle shape. They both have large busts and narrow hips. Their hair, or hoods, if you will, do not cut off at the neck, but cover up the neck. There are minor difference between the two Zircons, such as a a bulkier bust and midsection for Blue, and a smaller for Yellow. Yellow has a longer neck than Blue, and her gem is placed slightly higher up on her collarbone than Blue’s. They both have very long, yet rounded noses.
For those who have asked me about tutorials, I hope this is a good start, and I hope that it helps.
- Band director: *Talking about music* It’s like you two are dancing together.
Alto sax: You’re probably better than the girl I have to dance with for the show.
Kenny: But I have big feet and large calves.
Alto sax: We could dance now….
(At this point the band is dying laughing.)
Band director: *Between laughing* Okay, we need to get back.
- Beginning of band:
(The director was showing a percussionist how to hold a shaker. So, the band director was standing beside me, waiting to catch the shaker.)
Band director: Let’s see if we can try to hit Kristen.
End of band:
(We were putting chairs away. I was standing by the chair rack, putting my horn away. A sax player was putting her chair away.)
Band director: Don’t hit Kristen! She’s a gentle soul.
- Person: Do you want a cookie?
Sax player: I can’t, cookies make me sick.
Person: It’s not even an entire cookie.
Sax player: That’s true. *Takes sliver of cookie and eats it.*
- Bass Clarinetist: *Walks into band room with really good hot chocolate from The Bakery™. He sets the cup down and leaves.*
Clarinetist: *Takes hot chocolate to the corner of the band room and kneels down on the floor.* It’s my precious. My preciousssss.
Bass Clarinetist: *Walking back in the room.* Listen here, bitch.
- Alto sax: So Kenny got another chromosome.
Kenny: You’re just now figuring that out.
- Band director: *Holding up whiteboard* Tequila!
Kenny: Do you have any?
Band director: Darn, I’m fresh out. You can try to get some at a Mexican restaurant. But they probably won’t give you any…. Okay, so Tequila.
Percussionist: Can we say Harambe instead of Tequila?
Band director: No.
Band director: No.
- Percussionist: I can’t make it, it’s Thomas Jefferson’s birthday.
- *Clarinetist and Alto sax girl start throwing kernels at the saxophonist’s boyfriend. Band director notices.*
Other Clarinetist: You’re not going to stop them?
Band director: No. Just as long as they clean it up. *Watches us throwing kernels.*
- “Take the shitty cymbal. This one is like $600.”
- Band director: If you take this song (Cupid Shuffle) faster than I count off, I will cut you off.
Percussionist: *Begins to play song at half the speed.*
- *Playing Bad Romance*
Band director: *Ends song*
Percussion: *Keeps going*
Band director: *Trying to make cut off bigger* Hello??? Are these working???? GUYS WE CUT OFF.
- Band director: *To percussion* Just jam some before we play the Star Spangled Banner.
(They were playing something that had parts that alternated between the set player and guitar. Then everyone dropped out and it was just the set player.)
Percussionist: *Passive aggressively plays the set for three minutes straight*
(Everyone watches percussionist, confused, but dying laughing.)
At some point in every guy’s life, he becomes aware of how he appears to
others. All guys want to look their best. By the time he entered
college, Nick had come to realize what he thought it took to make
himself look good. He was just vain enough to be proud of his curly dark
brown hair, big brown eyes with long
lashes, and a cleft chin. He had a swarthy complexion, courtesy of his
Italian ancestors, and a muscular torso, with deep full pecs and big
upper arms and forearms and large round calves, the result of years of
weightlifting. Nick was proud that he didn’t have a gut on him—his
abs were covered by a layer of flab, but there was no bulging beer
belly hanging over his belt, unlike some of his contemporaries.
But, there were things Nick had learned
to do during his late teen years to appear at his best. Buy all his
shirts in “tall” sizes. Look for relaxed fit pants and shorts and then
be prepared to wait a while for them to be altered before he could wear
them. Put his wallet and comb in the front pocket of his pants. Be
prepared for the bottom hem of whatever shorts he bought to end below
his knees and the lower part of his trousers legs to flap in the breeze
when he walked.
Why? Well, Nick had a huge butt and thighs. At 5’7”, he had a stocky
“fireplug” build with a wide upper body, a thick waist, and hefty hips
as broad as his shoulders.. Viewed from the side, Nick’s stomach
area appeared flat beneath his bulging pecs but his rear end ballooned
out in a distended parabola shape, seeming to start above his obliques.
Where they stuck out the farthest, his fat-padded mega-glutes formed a
substantial shelf before they rounded back in to meet the back of his
thighs. Each buttcheek was massively oblong, wide, full and jutted out
an amazing distance from Nick’s body, as if candilevered outwards by a
feat of DNA-based bio-engineering..
From being teased by the other guys, Nick learned that when he stood up
after sitting, whatever shirt he was wearing had settled on top of the
shelf of his butt, emphasizing the huge size of his rear end. So he
bought “tall” shirts which hung down below his butt, thinking the extra
cloth of the shirt would disguise his enormous behind. All it did,
though, was to further call attention to his rear end—his buttcheeks
looked like two elephants fighting in a circus tent as the long material
of the shirt clung to each huge cheek emphasizing their roundness and
constant motion as he moved.
Pants and shorts had to be bought in a “relaxed fit” waist size at
least 8” bigger than his natural waist, because there
was thus more room in the seat. His mom would have to take in the
waist, but even then, his rear end packed the seat of whatever he was
wearing. Shorts and pants made so big in the waist were cut big
all over, so Nick’s shorts hung below his knees and the lower legs of
his pants flapped as he walked. Because his pants fit so tightly across
his distended butt, it was impossible for him to put his wallet in his
back pocket—so into his front pocket it went. Plus, Nick felt that if he
had been able to put his wallet in the back
pocket, the bulge of his wallet would further draw attention to the
bulging of his weather-balloon-sized buttcheeks. Of course he was
mistaken—his fat behind was out of all proportion to the rest of his
Nick also learned he had to take special care when he sat down. By the
time he graduated from high school, he was carrying 270 pounds on his
fireplug frame, so it wasn’t a question of breaking anything, except the
overstressed seam on the seat of his pants—it was just a question of
finding space to accommodate the voluminous size of his
disproportionately large rear end . No sense trying to try to sit in
those chair-attached-to-desk things in class—he couldn’t squeeze his
butt into them. He learned to always sit on an aisle seat in an
auditorium, the movies, or a stadium—he’d have to step out into the
aisle to let someone pass because he just took up so much volume in the
no one could squeeze around him. The bulk of his backside took up so
much space that when Nick sat, it looked to others that he was perched
on the front of the seat, even when he scrunched his butt tightly up to
the back of the seat. This meant it was tough for Nick to be
comfortable—to rest his back on the back of the seat, he had to tilt his
upper body backwards in an unnatural angle.
Nick couldn’t help but be conscious of the bulk of his butt. As he
walked, he could feel how his buttcheeks bounced, wobbled, and shifted
from side to side and how the mountains of soft flab which padded his massive
glutes jiggled and quivered. When he jogged, he could really feel the
movement—but most times it didn’t really bother him that much. Nick
had always had a big rear end, so he never knew what guys with average sized butts felt when they walked.
Being “big back there”,
as Nick’s doting mom described his build, had always been a fact of
life for Nick. His parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles all approved
of the extra baby fat which he carried as a toddler. They all had
“old-country” values and a fat kid was a healthy kid. As a student in
elementary school, fat little Nicky came to dread when the teacher
called the roll. It never failed; the teacher would call out “Nicholas”,
he’d answer “here” and some smart mouth in the back
of the room would call out “Nick-all-ASS” to the snickers of some of
the kids. A few fights put a stop to that, but Nicky gave up trying to
stop even his friends from calling him “Lardass” and “Balloon Butt”.
Above his waistline and below his knees and seen from the front, Nicky
was merely husky, but his big backside,
lovehandles and thighs were already greatly out of proportion to the
rest of his body. His relatives didn’t think anything about Nick’s
unusual shape—they recalled various granduncles and other male relatives
back in the “old country” who were built like Nicky. He had a big
appetite, he liked to eat, he was healthy and stocky. So what was the
Nicky’s older brother Joey—he was older than Nicky by six years—
didn’t help matters when he constantly referred to Nicky as “Bucket
Butt”. Nicky got his revenge by calling Joey, a stocky kid who carried a
lot of weight in his gut, “Santa Belly”. Nicky and Joey’s mom was
dismayed by this constant teasing, but basically her sons Joey and Nicky
got along well with each other and did well in school and sports.
Nicky always wanted to play Pop Warner football, but his heavy build and
the extra baby fat he was carrying meant that he could never make the
weight requirements. So, he concentrated on Little League baseball where
there was no weight limit. His dad and
uncles and older brother Joey were all New York Yankees fans and Nicky
automatically became one too. He amassed a collection of Yankee baseball
cards and avidly followed Yankees games on TV and radio. It was always a
special treat when his dad took him and his brother all the way to the
Bronx to watch a home game at Yankee Stadium. Nicky was so impressed
with the aura of the Stadium and all the great players his dad told him
about—Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, and many more.
Given Nicky’s build, from the first day he went out for Little League
he was assigned to the position of catcher. He loved playing and quickly
developed the skills he needed to cover home plate, “read the field”
and signal to the pitcher. He also quickly learned to try to ignore all
the trash talk from kids on the opposing teams. Sometimes it even came
from coaches or parents of the other teams: “Hey, kid, if your coach
told you to haul ass you’d have to make three trips! Ha ha!” Nicky tried
hard to not let the cracks bother him and to concentrate on the game,
no matter how bad the taunting.
By the time he reached high school, Nick had outgrown his “baby fat” as
well as the name “Nicky” and chubby Nicky had grown into chunky Nick. He
took up weight lifting to help him in baseball. Nick quickly developed
broad shoulders, strong biceps and triceps, and a “deep” chest with
powerful pecs, and he became known for his abilities as a power hitter.
At the same time his weight lifting developed his upper body, so did his
glutes, flanks, and thighs grow, too. No matter how much he worked out,
his lovehandles and the jiggly lard which padded his flanks and lower back
and merged into his oversized buttocks (the only portion of his “baby
fat: still remaining) didn’t disappear. Nick didn’t have much flab on
his gut—just a thin flat layer of padding on his abs, but “back there”
was different. Squats and leg presses caused his quads and calves as
well as his glutes to grow bigger and more powerful and only added to
how big he was “in the back”.
Nick got used to the “jokes” from his friends, classmates and team
mates. His nickname on the high school baseball team was “The Big
Caboose”, which Nick didn’t mind because he thought it sounded like
pitcher Randy Johnson’s nickname “The Big
Unit”. He also got used to the first day of baseball practice. Every
year, he’d show up, and if the coach didn’t know him, Nick just knew
that the coach would end up staring at him in amazement as soon as Nick
turned around or the coach caught a side view of him. Baseball uniforms
were the same thing as his regular clothes—he’d get the largest size
pants he could find and his mom would take in the waist, so there was
enough room in the seat and legs for his oversized rear end and huge
Every time Nick came to bat and got a hit, he’d run the bases (well, jog
as fast he could, given the size of the load he was carrying “back
and guarantee some jerk in the stands would call out “shake that
lardass, fat boy”. Nick put up with all that crap. The only time he got
into a fight was once when he bunted, got to first base, and the
opposing team’s first baseman trash-talked to him: “hey dude, your ass
is so big and femme you should be playing
girls softball. Your ass is bigger than J-Lo, and you’re cute, too!”
Nick got kicked out of the game when he slugged the guy. Teenage Nick
always got turned on by girls with big tits and big asses, but deep down
inside, whenever he saw a girl with a big butt, he wondered why his
rear end was so big and whether or not his ass was bigger than the booty
of the girl who was causing his dick to stir. His brother Joe had a
big belly, but at least that was masculine. Why did Nick have to be the
brother with the huge ass?
Nick got accepted to a small college in the Northeast not that far from
where he had grown up in northern New Jersey. The college had a good
baseball team and Nick looked forward to continuing his career as a
catcher. In the back of his mind, he
dreamed that a scout for the New York Yankees would hear what a good
catcher and hitter he was and offer him a contract.
Off he went to live on campus. He was excited to be on his own and looked forward to the adventures which awaited him.
His first day in the dorm, Nick met with the usual greetings, and then
the stares and stunned looks when his new dorm mates’ glances went from
his face to his chunky torso and then his enormous backside. Nick was
used to that, though he didn’t really realize how much of a show his big
distended buttcheeks put on—with every step he took, one buttock
would rise like an elevator, wobbling all the while, then it would crash
down almost with a thud as the process continued with his other
buttcheek as he took another step. From the front, Nick looked like any
other stocky, deep-chested, “thick-waisted”, heavy-hipped guy “built
like a fireplug”—from the side and the back, the show he involuntarily put on with every step he took amazed everyone.
Nick adjusted pretty well to being away from home. The other students in
college were friendly and his classes were interesting and actually
easier than he expected. He decided to major in Accounting, as his
older brother Joey had.
Nick soon got used to trying to shoehorn his big
backside into the seats in the lecture halls, and if that was
impossible, he always looked for seats without armrests which allowed
his butt and thighs to spread out fully when he sat down to concentrate
on the lecture. The food in the college cafeteria and snack bars was
great, and chunky Nick—whose mom was always proud of his “healthy
appetite”—loved that his meal plan meant he could eat all he wanted.
He was conscious though that he couldn’t stuff himself without limit. In
the back of his mind, his dreams of
having a shot at playing for the Yankees meant that he had to do well on
the college baseball team. So, Nick needed to be in good shape.
In September of his freshman year, Nick saw an announcement posted
around campus that a meeting was to be held the next day in the gym for
all prospective baseball players. Nick showed up the next day wearing a
t-shirt, size 2XLT—which was snug across his bulging muscular pecs and
wide obliques and long enough to cling to his ballooning buttcheeks,
and a pair of 4XL sweatshorts from his senior year in high school. As
usual, Nick’s mom had altered the 4XL sweatshorts to 2XL size around the
waist but Nick noticed they were even snugger than they had been in the
spring around his rear end and thighs. Because the shorts were
originally so big, they came down below Nick’s knees—but that didn’t bother him because the baggy, oversize look was “in”.
There was a pretty large group of
freshmen at the gym for the baseball meeting. A line formed at the old
fashioned balance scale where the coach and one of the assistant coaches
were weighing and measuring the prospective players. After standing in
line for a while, Nick reached the scale. He gave his name to the coach,
who was writing everything down on his clipboard. He stepped up on the
scale and his height was measured at 5’7”—same as his senior year in
high school. The balance scale showed his weight to be 270. The head
coach wrote down the number, then said, “Nick, right? You’re a husky guy
but you sure don’t look as big as 270.”
Nick involuntarily flexed his big pecs to
show off his muscular build to the coach as he replied, stepping off
the scale and turning to leave the line, “Yeah, Coach, I know I may have
to drop a few but I’m going to work at it. I’m lifting more often now.”
His attention drawn to the side and then back
view of Nick’s “thick waist” and massive buttocks, which wobbled,
bounced and shifted as he stepped off the scale, Coach replied in
surprise, “Jeezus, Nick, I can see where you’re carrying all the
weight.” The assistant coach, who was standing next to the coach and
stood staring at Nick with his mouth wide open, added, “Woah, Nick, you
said you lift weights, right? You must squat oxen!”
At that point, both coaches shut up in embarrassment and in the silence,
Nick heard snickers from some of the other guys still in line. “Well,
Coach”, he said matter-of-factly, “I’ve always been big back there. My
high school coach always told me that the best catchers have the biggest
Coach, at this point wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth in the first
place—who knew, maybe this kid would turn out to be a good player even
though he had to be carrying a good 80 extra pounds on his huge
distended rear end—said, “Well, Nick, I hope to see you at practice.
We need good catchers.”
Showering at the athletic locker room or in his dorm lavatory was pretty
much the same as high school for Nick—a bunch of buck-naked guys
goofing around as well as getting clean. Nick had always gotten a lot of
swats with wet towels on his huge jutting jiggly butt in the locker room
shower and in return he swatted back with his towel. Just “guy stuff”.
Nick soon came to realize, though, that some guys in college were a lot
more open expressing their feelings than high school guys were. In high
school, he received some football-player style pats on his huge buttocks
—so what? In college, though, there
were guys who were open about staring at him and checking him
out—well, mostly checking out the size, shape, and movement of his
enormous butt balloons. Nick had to admit he did the same in return as
he looked for guys whose rear ends were as massive as his. Not that he
became a connoisseur of male buttocks, but he couldn’t help but notice
all the differences in butt shape and size among the guys. Some guys
were totally flat—no butt at all. (Nick thought they looked deformed and
Some of Nick’s team mates on the baseball team had round muscular
bubblebutts. Nick kind of envied them. They seemed to be in
proportion—big pecs balanced by a big butt. In the back of his mind,
Nick, self-confident as he seemed to others, regretted that his big
muscular pecs were more than outbalanced by the size of his massive
Nick noticed a few guys around campus who were positively pear-shaped.
These were obese guys with hips much wider than their shoulders, huge
lovehandles, thighs so big that fat hung
off them in rolls, and enormous fat lumpy buttcheeks covered with dimply
cellulite. Nick never said anything to these guys—he’d had to take
teasing all his life and so he wouldn’t dream of mocking somebody
else—and he felt kind of a kinship with them and actually made a
special effort to be friendly to them.
There was only one time when Nick got
super pissed off at one of his dorm mates. Nick and a bunch of other
guys had gone to a fast food place after a basketball game on campus. As
usual, he was wearing his oversized shorts and an extra long polo
shirt. Some of the guys had already picked up their wrapped whoppers and
fries while Nick and some others were still waiting to place their
orders. Suddenly, all the guys were quiet and Nick felt something, some
pressure, on the top of his buttocks where they stuck out the farthest.
The silence tuned to snickers. Nick was concentrating on what to order
while this was going on, but after about 30 seconds the snickering
turned to laughter and drew Nick’s attention. Nick spun around and
noticed that three wrapped whoppers had fallen to the floor.
“What the h…?” Nick yelled out angrily.
The guy who lived in the dorm room next to him replied, laughing, “Hey
buddy, I almost won the bet! I bet I could put at least two whoppers on
top of that ass shelf you got going there and they would sit there until
I ate them! Shit, man, I put three back there—and if you hadn’t turned
around, I could’ve put a couple more! Your butt is so huge I bet it has
its own zip code!” There was more laughter in the background.
Nick felt himself getting angrier and angrier as the guy talked and the
laughter continued. Finally, his eyes flashing, he snarled, “Look, if
you EVER do something like that again, or if you or anybody else even
touches me back there again, it’ll be the last thing you EVER do.”
The other guy only mumbled “hey, sorry, dude”, wisely figuring the less said the better.
All the other guys fell silent. No one said anything. Everyone got their
orders and they went and sat together. Nick broke the ice by starting
to talk about the game. He was calm and cool, so the other guys started
talking normally. They all figured Nick had forgotten about the “joke”.
Nick hadn’t, though. He just added the incident to the long list of taunts,
“jokes” and mockery he had received since he was old enough to realize
what was happening.
At the start of his sophomore year, Nick met his new room mate. Josh was
a sophomore too and seemed cool enough. He wasn’t an athlete—in fact,
he was one of those pear-shaped guys with an enormously wide flabby
rear end, huge lumpy thighs, with big fat
sagging man breasts and a jiggly belly apron to go with his giant
ass–and was majoring in music. Josh’s red hair and blue eyes showed his
Irish-American ancestry. He was taller than Nick by a couple of inches.
Nick and Josh hit it off OK from the first. Nick, Josh and the guys
from their floor of the dorm usually ate breakfast and dinner together
at the cafeteria. Nick soon came to see why Josh was so big—he
could EAT, not only huge meals, three or four servings at the
cafeteria, but the rest of the time too. Josh kept their room well
stocked with chips, snack cakes, and candy bars and ordered pizza every
night. Nick, of course, was always invited by Josh to dig in. Whenever
Nick offered to help pay for the pizza, Josh always replied that his
father was “rolling in dough” and so he had an unlimited allowance.
Nice guy Nick always accepted Josh’s generosity.
The middle of November came and Nick ran into the baseball coach one day
at the gym. Coach greeted Nick with the words, “Good to see you here,
Nick. You had a great season last spring as a freshman. You got a couple
of months from now to get back into shape before practice starts and you know how the holidays are.”
“Get back into shape?” asked Nick. He didn’t think he was out of shape.
“Hey, Nick, come on, you look like you’ve really put on some weight…”
Nick interrupted, “Well, Coach, you know I’ve always been big back there…”
This time the coach did the interrupting. “No, Nick, I’m not talking
about your rear end. You’re getting a gut on you, Nick. You’re one step
away from having a pot belly. It’s time to cut back
on the beer and pizza, Nick, before you eat yourself off the team. I
got to tell you, you’re bottom heavy but that’s OK on a catcher….within
limits. You’re just about at the limit of how big you can be back there
and be competitive. But if you keep on building up that belly and
adding more tonnage onto your butt, you’re in danger of losing whatever
agility and speed you have. So, take my advice—cut back on the groceries!”
“OK, Coach, thanks for telling me,” said Nick quietly. He was shocked.
He had noticed over the past few months or so that his clothes had
become tighter but that was a fact of life in the dorm, where the guys
did their own laundry and washed everything in hot water and always set
the dryer on “high”. Could he be getting fat?
It was late afternoon by the time Nick got back to his dorm room. There
was a note from Josh on the mirror: “Taking a shower, be back soon. Got
some brownies, they’re in the mini-fridge. Half are for you, buddy!”
Nick read that and smiled—there
went generous Josh with the snacks again! His stomach rumbled with
hunger. A few brownies wouldn’t hurt his appetite for dinner, but then
he thought about what the coach told him.
He stripped off his t-shirt and took off his specially altered cargo
pants—-which would have been enormously baggy on anyone else but were
tightly stretched across his ass—and stood in front of the mirror in
his made-to-order boxers. He put his right hand under his left pec and
shook it—it jiggled and quivered with the new fat which had
accumulated on his chest over the past few months. Same thing with his
gut—it was doughier and softer. Nick turned to the side and moved
forward a little so he could see the side view of his entire ballooning
ass. It was hard to tell if it was bigger—it was so huge anyway—but
Nick jogged in place a few steps and noticed that his asscheeks had even
more of a wobble and bounce than usual. When he stopped jogging, the
soft new fat covering his giant butt globes seemed to keep on jiggling
and quivering for ages. Shit! Coach was right. Nick grimaced.
Nick sadly put all thoughts of the brownies out of his mind and considered that he’d have to start cutting back
at mealtime, too. Shit again! He’d probably have to get by on one
helping at meals, rather than the three he had become used to from
eating with Josh. Oh well, baseball was worth it and Coach had warned
At that point, the door opened and Josh waddled into the room. He took
off his oversize bathrobe and threw it on his bed. Every part of his
overfed naked body jiggled, quivered, and swayed with each step he took.
“Hey, why so unhappy, buddy?” he asked Nick.
“The baseball coach told me I have to go on a diet or else I might not
make the team”, Nick replied glumly. At this point Nick tugged off his
tight boxers. “I’m going to go take a shower before dinner.”
Josh waddled closer to Nick who was still standing in front of the
mirror. “Gee, Nick, the coach is wrong. You look great the way you are.
Nick interrupted, “No buddy, Coach is the boss and he’s right. Look at this belly I’m getting. Too many snacks, I guess…”
By this point, Josh was standing right behind Nick and within a few
seconds Nick could feel Josh’s breath on his neck and Josh’s belly apron
pushing into the thick layer of flab on his lower back
and the top of his distended asscheeks. Josh said softly, “Nick, I’ve
never told you this until now, but you’re so fucking hot, and you’re
getting hotter every day.” With this, Josh reached forward with both of
his fat arms around Nick’s big
lovehandles and tried to pull Nick backward so that his ass would grind
into Josh’s crotch while Josh grabbed his dick. Nick could feel Josh’s
huge saggy breasts pushing into his shoulders and Josh’s erection trying
to push into his deep buttcrack.
Nick reacted in a rush. His muscular arms broke the grip Josh had around his lovehandles and he whirled around, stepping back
from Josh. “Hey, Josh, hold on, man, I’m not ready for this…” Nick was
searching for the right words. Stunned as he was at what just had
happened, he still didn’t want to hurt Josh’s feelings.
Josh interrupted. “Nick, can’t you see how much I love you? And I know you must love me too….. “
Nick stood there trying to figure out
what was happening. His own dick was semi-erect, but he knew he just
wanted to be friends with Josh—nothing sexual, nothing serious. But
what to do?
Josh continued breathlessly, “Nick, come on! I love you and I know you
love me too. I mean, you’re always so nice to me, friendly like nobody
has ever been before to me. And we’re so alike. The first time I saw how
you’re built I knew we have so much in common. We’re both big guys who like our food and I bet you get turned on by being big
and eating a lot just like I do. I know how hard it is to be a guy with a big fat ass.. Most guys would
think it’s weird to think like I do, but I just know you’re like me.
That’s why you’ve been eating so much since we became room mates. You
want to be bigger, like me. From the first time I saw that huge
beautiful sexy ass of yours, I’ve dreamed about you becoming as big
as me and that you’d fall in love with me. Your buttcrack is so fucking
deep and your asscheeks are just so huge and full and they just merge
perfectly into your sexy lovehandles…”
Nick noticed that Josh’s erection was starting to throb. It was
thrusting past his flabby belly apron so that the jelly-like fat of his
apron was quivering.
All kinds of thoughts were going through Nick’s mind. He knew that Josh
would do anything he wanted. Nick had never had sex with a guy before,
but he had daydreamed once or twice about what it would be like to have
sex with another guy. But then he thought about what Josh told him
about eating more and getting bigger. Nick knew he didn’t want that.
Until Coach talked with him that morning, he hadn’t noticed the weight
he had put on over the past three months while being Josh’s room mate.
Nobody had paid attention to his newly-flabby gut and chest anyway—all
the focus was always on his big
protruding oversized rump—but Nick quickly decided that baseball right
now had priority, and he HAD to lose weight. But how to tell Josh there
wasn’t going to be a relationship and that Nick really didn’t have any
romantic feelings for him? Nice guy Nick, who had been taunted and
teased so much over the years, didn’t want to hurt Josh’s feelings.
Nick hit upon what to say. “Josh,” Nick said quietly, “I’ve always
thought of you as a brother, just like my older brother Joey. There’s
nothing romantic about it. Yeah, we have some things in common, but
you’re like a brother to me. That’s all. I’m sorry.”
Josh turned away from Nick and started to cry. Nick felt bad for him but
didn’t want to comfort him for fear of giving him the message that he
really DID care.
Nick showered and got dressed to go down to the cafeteria to dinner. He
asked Josh to come with him but Josh refused. After an unusually light
dinner for Nick—one portion of the main dish, a large salad and a
piece of fruit for dessert—he returned to his room. Josh was gobbling
up a supersize stuffed crust meat lovers pizza he had had delivered
while Nick was eating downstairs. He barely looked up when Nick entered.
“Nick, you want some?” Josh almost pleaded. His mouth was full of pizza.
“No, sorry, man,” quietly replied Nick.
The rest of the evening passed quietly. Nick studied and refused Josh’s frequent offers of a snack—candy, chips, cookies.
The next day, Nick got up early to head to the gym. Josh was still
sleeping. Nick stepped up on the scale and checked his weight. He was
surprised when he saw that the bar balanced at 283 pounds. Woah—he
didn’t think he had put on THAT much weight since school had started.
He grabbed a roll of the soft doughy gut which had formed without him
realizing it and frowned. After working out, he showered and had a light
breakfast then went to class. After a light lunch—one sandwich, a
glass of skim milk, a salad without dressing, and an apple— Nick went
to his afternoon classes and then went for a jog.
When he got back to his dorm room, it was
quiet. He noticed a note addressed to him on his desk. It was from Josh
and said that Josh thought it would be better if he moved to a
different room. It ended with “I hope we still can be friends”. Nick was
sorry for Josh, but he wasn’t going to change his mind. He noticed that
Josh had left a big jar of cookies on
the desk when he removed the rest of his belongings. The cookies looked
SO tempting, but Nick was resolute. He resisted temptation and went
down to dinner. He had to drop the weight and that was that.
By the time baseball season started, Nick had dieted and exercised down to 270. Coach was pleased and Nick was happy.
Nick didn’t see much of Josh. Whenever they accidentally ran into each
other, it seemed like Josh was trying to avoid him. Nick was kind of
concerned, but he felt he had tried to be nice to Josh, hadn’t led him
on or anything, so he had nothing to feel bad about.
The end of May meant the end of Nick’s second college baseball season.
He had a good season, starting in most of the games and leading his team
in home runs and runs batted in. Nick had decided to take summer
classes at his college and so didn’t go home to New Jersey. He rented a
small studio apartment close to campus.
Nick and some of his buddies were out clubbing one night when he met a
girl who he had seen around campus, but didn’t really know. She came up
to him at the club and started talking. Her name was Tiffany and Nick
could tell she’d had a lot to drink. She was pretty attractive—long
natural blonde hair and built well, not a skinny twig like many of the
girls Nick had met at clubs—and Nick decided to get to know her
better. After a few minutes of chat, Tiffany reached behind Nick,
grabbed one of his huge buttcheeks, and asked, “Is that all really you?”
Nick laughed and replied, “Yeah, who else would it be?” and reached
over and patted her sexy booty, saying “Is this really you?” Tiffany
smiled at Nick and said, “Let’s get together someplace private and see
what’s real and what isn’t.”
By this point, she was slurring her words. One of her female friends
came over to her, smiled at Nick, and said, “Come on, Tiff, time to go
Nick thought Tiffany was hot and he saw some potential for a fling, but
he had some standards. Getting it on with a drunk chick wasn’t something
he found appealing. So he added, “Yeah, Tiffany, time for me to go home
too. Let’s talk tomorrow” Tiff’s friend smiled at Nick and mouthed the
word “Thanks” to him. So, he and Tiffany exchanged cellphone numbers
before leaving separately.
The next afternoon, Tiffany called Nick. She seemed not to remember much
about what had happened the night before, saying, “I have your number
and I remember how amazing you look and how sweet you were. How about if
you come over to my place for dinner with me and my apartment mates
Nick agreed. After a large meal of lasagna Tiffany’s room mates all went
to the movies, leaving Tiffany and Nick alone. One thing led to another
and Nick and Tiffany were in her bedroom. Clothes soon came off and
Tiffany and Nick soon realized all they had seen the night before was
real. The next morning, Tiffany cooked Nick a big
breakfast and he was sitting at the kitchen table eating when Tiffany’s
apartment mates came out of their bedrooms. They didn’t seem surprised
to see a man there and greeted Nick like he was an old friend.
By the time the summer ended, Nick had indeed become an old friend to
all three of Tiffany’s apartment mates. He usually spent a couple of
nights of the week at Tiffany’s place and the other five nights she was
at his small studio apartment.
There was a lot for Nick to love about
Tiffany. She had a hot set of boobs, wide full hips and booty, and a
small sexy belly. Nick was really attracted to her long blonde hair.
Nick had to admit, too, that Tiffany was a great cook, something she
demonstrated for him on weekends in between their hot lovemaking
August arrived and Nick was seriously thinking about going the next step
and asking Tiffany to live with him the next school year. Life with
Tiffany had taken on a routine. They spent 98% of their free time
together and Nick’s planned visits to the nearby college gym had stopped
weeks before. (At the end of baseball season, Nick decided he was going
to work out regularly so he’d be in shape for the next year’s season
without having to go through the hell of a crash diet and exercise
program like he had to do after being Josh’s room mate for three
fattening months.) After Nick and Tiffany got home from classes and
their drudge summer jobs, Tiff would bring out the huge prepared meal
she had purchased at the market, always some kind of “comfort food”,
like pot roast and mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, or fried chicken
with potatoes au gratin. Then followed a nice dessert which Nick would
pick up on his way home. Nick knew that Tiff loved cheesecake. After
dinner, a little television, a bedtime snack for Nick (usually the
remains on the cheesecake left after Tiff had her small slice and Nick
had a nice healthy slab), and off to the bedroom. Up the next morning
for a nice homemade breakfast.
Nick loved the way Tiffany fussed over him and sex with her was great.
Nick also had to admit that Tiffany had her quirks. There
were some things she suggested that Nick do that weren’t exactly kinky,
just…”different”. For example, once a week, she insisted on taking his
measurements—chest, gut, hips, and thighs—with a tape measure. He’d
stand there in the nude while she got out
the tape measure. The first time she suggested this, Nick thought Tiff
was going to measure his dick and he was a little nervous. He didn’t
think he was particularly big there—-just big
enough to get the job done—and besides, the first inch of his shaft
was buried in the layer of soft flab that had always padded his pubic
area. Nick was a little taken aback when Tiff didn’t even measure his
dick, concentrating on the other measurements instead, always ending up
with his hips. Oh well, after she finished, she was so fired up she
always went straight to giving him whatever he wanted. The other thing
she got off on having him do was walk around his studio apartment after
dinner completely naked. She never said why she liked this—Nick
assumed she liked seeing his dick dangle and sway from side to side as
he walked—and the result was always hot sex so Nick didn’t mind.
One night toward the end of August, Tiff called Nick at work and told
him she’d be delayed at her job. Nick offered to cook dinner—his mom’s
recipe for spaghetti with butter and cheese, real simple to prepare but
something Nick loved. He stopped at an Italian bakery and bought
pastries for dessert. After he got home to his studio apartment, Nick
had some time on his hands—he didn’t want to put the spaghetti on to
boil until Tiff got home—and he went on the computer to kill some
Nick soon realized that Tiff had been on the computer after he left for
work that morning and had forgotten to log off. He was curious—no
particular reason why—but he decided to read Tiff’s email. He knew he
shouldn’t, but…. He was seriously thinking about asking Tiff to marry
him, and no harm checking out her email, right? After all, he hadn’t
known her that long. It didn’t take him long to figure out Tiff’s
Much to Nick’s relief, he didn’t find any emails between Tiff and a
secret boyfriend. He did find some between Tiff and her best friend back
in her hometown. Tiff had mentioned this girl to Nick as being her
“closest friend from the time they were little kids”. Nick’s curiosity
was aroused when he noticed that one exchange of emails was titled “My
Nick soon discovered that Tiff had written her friend to tell her that
she had posted some videos on Youtube. She put the link in the email and
of course Nick clicked on the link when he read, “Look at these and
you’ll see why I think he’s so hot!”
As Nick clicked on the link, he hoped that Tiff hadn’t posted any
embarrassing videos of him and hadn’t mentioned his full name. He knew
she often had her cellphone out at the apartment but he hadn’t dreamed
she was taking pictures or making videos. He didn’t even know if her
cellphone had those features. Oh well. He prepared to view some videos of
his handsome face—he smiled to himself—or maybe his chest—he was
proud of his full pecs—or maybe his package—hmmmm—but Youtube
wouldn’t allow pics of his dick to be posted, would they?
Instead, Nick was stunned. There were
five videos posted by Tiffany under the name of “NickyLover”, and the
were of his….ass! From May to a couple of days ago, from the back,
from the side, in his boxers, in pants, and naked, the videos showed
Nick’s huge protruding buttocks in all their wobbling, shaking,
jiggling, quivering immensity. The latest video, posted a couple of days
ago, was labeled “see how big my Nicky’s getting compared to May. Every
calorie my hot honey eats goes str8 to his best feature. Doncha think
Nick sat there and replayed the videos. He was fascinated by what he saw. He knew he was big back there,
but these videos were the first time in his life he had ever seen his
massive asscheeks in motion from someone else’s perspective. “Damn, I’m
HUGE” was the thought that kept on repeating in Nick’s mind as he
observed how his massive rear end dominated the screen. His cheeks were
massively full and wide and rounded out like two huge oval weather
balloons and never stopped jiggling and quivering. In the middle of his
lower back was a deep horizontal dimple that marked the separation between each big
buttock. The upper outward side of each cheek merged seamlessly into
the thick, wide lovehandles which padded each of his flanks. Nick stared
amazed at what he saw on the computer screen. For the first time, Nick
realized exactly why he had always attracted so much attention. He
always knew he was “big back there”—now he realized how unbelievably HUGE he was.
Nick heard the door open and quickly shut down the computer. He didn’t
know exactly what to think, so he thought he’d play it cool and see what
After greeting Tiffany, Nick started to prepare dinner. As the
spaghetti was draining, he was at the work counter grating the parmesan
cheese when Tiffany came up in back of
him. She got behind him and put her hands on his giant asscheeks and
caressed them through the sweatshorts he was wearing while she nuzzled his
neck. Nick suddenly realized that Tiff always caressed his buttcheeks a lot,
more than she caressed any other part of his body.
After the spaghetti was ready to eat, Tiff and Nick sat at the table.
Nick noticed how Tiff kept on glancing down at his hips and thighs as he
perched on the kitchen chair. She was obviously focusing a lot more on
how his buttocks, hips, and thighs filled his shorts almost to bursting
as he sat and how he overflowed the chair seat. After Nick ate a large
portion of butter and cheese drenched pasta and Tiff barely touched
hers, she encouraged him to eat another huge portion “just to finish it
off Nick, you know we don’t have room in the refrigerator for
“Yeah, right, Tiff”, Nick thought. Same thing with the pastries—Tiff
had one, Nick had five and Tiff said that Nick should eat the rest
before they went to bed and gave him a big
wink. Nick smiled to himself and thought that at least he was going to
get lucky that night even while he was finding out what Tiff was really
up to with those videos.
By the time Nick and Tiff were ready to head to the bedroom later in the
evening, Nick had effortlessly eaten the rest of the pastries. Tiffany
excused herself to use the bathroom, then reappeared just wearing her
panties, her full boobs swaying as she walked into the bedroom. Nick was
ready for action, but Tiffany sexily told him to take of his
undershorts and walk back and forth for
her, “you’re so sexy babe!” Nick kept his eyes open for Tiff’s
cellphone, but she didn’t bring it out. “No videos being made tonight”, he
In the bedroom, Nick didn’t give himself totally over to lovemaking as
he usually did. He kept conscious of everything Tiff was doing, how she
responded to his caresses of her breasts and belly and butt and then his
fingering of her vagina with increased caresses of his ass and
lovehandles. When he finally mounted her and started pumping, she moaned
with pleasure, but was it from the intercourse or from the fact she
kept her both hands on the sides of his giant buttcheeks the whole time,
as if to feel them shaking and jiggling with each thrust? After they
were finished, he fell asleep increasingly unhappy.
Next morning was the moment of truth. Nick was naked in the bathroom,
shaving. The door opened and Tiff came in. As usual, her hands went to
his backside. One hand on each massive fat over muscle cheek, she
caressed the mammoth mounds in a circular motion.
“And how’s my honey this morning?”
“OK”. Nick kept his answer short.
“And what do you want for breakfast today, lover? I was thinking of some
nice eggo waffles with butter and syrup. I think we’ve got about a
dozen or so, and I can heat up some sausage. Think that’ll get you off
to a good start?” Her hands now alternated, hefting each huge buttcheek
up and then letting them drop, wildly shaking and jiggling.
In spite of himself—he was almost ready to say something to
Tiff—Nick felt his dick start to stiffen up. If he hadn’t already
decided he needed to seriously talk to Tiff, this moment would have been
so hot frickin’ for him as well as her.
He abruptly turned and faced Tiff. “Actually Tiff, I want just a couple
of pieces of toast and some coffee. I was thinking, I’ve been putting on
weight this summer and I need to get it off. I need to start jogging
again now so when baseball season starts in five months I won’t have to
crash diet like I did last fall.” While saying this, he grabbed a
handful of his new bellyflab and jiggled it.
Tiff looked upset. “B…B…But Nick….You look great the way you are now! I mean, what’s the big
deal with baseball, anyway? Look, you’re starting your junior year,
you’ve played baseball a long time. Don’t you think it’s time to just
relax and do things you like? Like eat…and…and…well, like meeting my
needs. You’re so hot and getting hotter with each passing day.” At this
point, Tiff grabbed Nick’s huge asscheeks with both her hands. “I just
love the way you look… you drive me nuts you’re so hot.” Tiff was
squeezing, caressing, prodding and massaging each buttcheek.
Nick’s enormous butt balloons responded by quivering and shaking wildly
with each of Tiff’s touches. Despite himself, Nick’s dick was starting
to throb. But, he had had enough. The images from those videos on Youtube
flashed through his mind.
“Look, Tiff, I saw those videos you posted on Youtube!”
Tiff’s hands dropped to her sides. She didn’t say anything.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” The words started to pour out of Nick.
He was struggling to keep calm but his anger showed as he spat out the
words, “Look, Tiff, what’s with you, anyway? I think to you I’m just a
pair of big asscheeks with a guy attached. Do you love me for me or do
you love me because of my big behind? I think all you want to do is
fatten me up so you can get off on my big ass….”
Tiff was quiet and looked down at the floor. To Nick, it seemed like she
was ready to cry. The “nice guy” side of Nick started to take over and
he spoke more calmly. “Tiff, I don’t want to hurt you, but I want to be
more to you than just a guy who has a big butt that turns you on. You
know baseball’s important to me, and you should respect me enough to go
along with my plans.”
Tiff raised her head and looked Nick in the eyes. “But Nick, when I
watch baseball I see plenty of players with nice round butts, so what’s
the big deal with me wanting your sexy
butt to get bigger? C’mon, lover, you know you like to eat and if seeing
you fill out makes me happy, what’s the problem?” She reached out and
started to massage one of Nick’s buttcheeks again. More quivering and
jiggling and Tiff began to breathe harder. “And those vids….I just made
those so that I could admire you on video when you’re not here in
“And so you posted them on Youtube? And, Tiff, the videos just show my
butt! I’m not some kind of freak show!” Nick’s efforts to be a nice guy
weren’t getting anywhere and so his voice got a little louder. “Look,
Tiff, my lease on this place is up for renewal in a few days and I just
decided I’m going to move back to the dorm. We need to call it quits.
It’s not going to work out. Move back with your roommates. It’s just not
gonna work out for us.”
Tiff pleaded but Nick stood his ground. Those videos of his big
ballooning ass kept replaying through his mind. Finally Tiff, crying,
went to the bedroom. By the end of the day, she had packed her things
and left without a further word to Nick. Within a few days, the college
dorm had reopened and Nick had moved back in.
A couple of days later, Nick struggled to find a pair of workout shorts
that fit. The shorts he wore last year—3XL, taken in at the waist to
fit his XL waist, were too tight to be pulled up over his thighs, hips,
and rear. In the back of the drawer, he
managed to dig out a pair of workout shorts that were so baggy last
spring he hadn’t worn them—to him, they were like “clown shorts”, so
baggy he thought they made his jumbo ass look even huger than it
actually was. Now, as he tugged them up he saw they were so tight they
fit him like spandex. Just as bad, from Nick’s point of view, a soft
doughy mound of flab curved out from beneath his pecs and bulged over
his waistband. Mentally, he cursed Tiff for her manipulation of him and
cursed himself for not realizing what she was doing.
He went to the gym on campus and stepped on the scale. He closed his
eyes, hoping and praying that his summer with Tiff hadn’t caused too
much damage to his fitness routine. He opened his eyes and hopefully
fiddled with the balance bar. Oh shit! 295 pounds! 25 pounds over his
playing weight at the end of last season.
By the time baseball practice started after the Christmas holidays, Nick
had managed to diet down to 275. The extra five pounds he was carrying
compared to the previous year had, of course, settled onto his backside.
The whole diet was a struggle, and no matter what he tried, the five
pounds just wouldn’t come off. He was smart enough not to do anything
extreme and ruefully decided that extra weight “back there” was a
parting gift from Tiff. The same thing with those videps she posted on
youtube. They remained posted and Nick decided there
was nothing he could do. At least she hadn’t mentioned his last name or
the college he was attending and nobody he knew said anything to him
Because of his diet, he still managed to squeeze his enormous backside
into the clothes which fit him before his summer with Tiff, but now his
ass fully packed the seat of every pair of pants, shorts, and sweats
which already been altered to accommodate his distended outsized rump.
Nick got out the needle and thread and triple sewed the rear seams of
everything from crotch to the back
waistband to try to minimize the possibility of his ass blowing out the
seam when he sat or bent down. His baseball uniform pants were
something else—no way could he play his position of catcher with his
ass threatening every day to explode through the thinly stretched cloth
which strained to contain his backside, so he had to search and find a
couple of pairs of 4XL baseball uniform pants which he took to a
seamstress near campus who took in the waist for him.
The baseball season went fine for Nick and his team and the coach seemed
happy. Nick saw a lot of playing time and his numbers were good. The
end of the college semester soon came and this year Nick went home for
Nick spent the summer living with his parents and working at a nearby
Starbuck’s as a barista. He was pleased that he was able to resist
snacking on the tempting pastries and goodies and fattening latte drinks
at Starbuck’s—not to mention his mom’s home cooking. He only put on a
pound during his summer home—normal growth, he figured. The job was
the usual for Nick. He had to get a couple of pair of pants to wear to
work, which meant the same old routine of alterations. On the job, his
co-workers, mostly all college kids his age, were friendly with him and
no one commented on his looks.
As usual, Nick noticed people glancing at him and staring, then
averting their eyes when they realized Nick knew what they were doing.
Well, Nick had been used to that his entire life. Working behind the
counter was a little awkward given the space Nick took up—how far he
stuck out in the back. His co-workers
took to saying “coming behind you” to Nick after the day when he
accidentally backed up and pinned another employee into the latte
machine with his distended protruding buttocks. She was nice about and
accepted Nick’s embarrassed apologies.
Fall semester started and for the first time since he was a freshman
Nick didn’t face a fall of dieting. He was all psyched up for a good
baseball season and maybe even an offer to play in the pros after he
graduated. So, he resisted the temptation to eat big and jogged
everyday. 276 pound Nick hated jogging—he had so much weight “back
to haul around that it was uncomfortable and the jogging made his ass
bounce, shake and wobble so violently that it was like an earthquake,
8.5 on the Richter scale. At the end of each jog, Nick was very sore
in his butt, flanks, upper thighs, and around his lovehandles from all
the movement, but—being ready for baseball meant he HAD to jog every
Nick hoped the jogging would trim down his massive buttcheeks a little,
but of course it didn’t happen. Every time he sat down, he could see
how his bulky ass, hips, and upper thighs filled his jeans, pants or
shorts to the bursting point. A couple of thigh seam failures when he
sat made him get out the needle and thread and triple stitch the thigh
seams of his already-altered clothes. Well, strengthening seams was a
fact of life for him already, so no big deal.
Nick liked his senior year classes, most of which were in Accounting.
In all his classes, Nick noticed on the first day that he was the center
of attention once the students who didn’t already know him caught a
glimpse of his backside. For those he knew already, he was just Nick,
“you, know, the guy who’s so big back there” or to his baseball team
mates or dorm mates, “Nick, the ‘Big Caboose’ with all the junk in his
Nick spent the whole first semester and then the holidays getting ready
for baseball. This would be his chance to show the scouts from the
Yankee organization what he could do. By the end of the school year,
he’d be graduating from college. If he was going to have a chance to
make it to the pros, he had to be in the best possible shape. So, he
watched what he ate and jogged every day, rain, sun, snow, or sleet.
Aware of the fact that he oversized rear end had the potential to slow
him down, he tried his best to keep his weight under control while at
the same time eat enough to keep up his strength.
The end result was that Nick didn’t lose any weight, but as the months
went by, he felt like he was in better shape, more energetic somehow. To
his disappointment, his butt didn’t shrink any. His glute muscles
developed even further and the heavy layer of lard which padded his
buttcheeks, his lower back, and lovehandles remained as thick as ever. Well, there
were guys in the major leagues who had well developed rear ends,
thought Nick wishfully, silently praying that whoever scouted him would
overlook how big he was “back there”.
The team had a great season. Nick was one of the main reasons for the
team doing so well. His batting average was the best on the team. His
well-developed arms and chest made him the best power hitter on the
team. If he hit only a single or had to bunt he usually got called out
on first because he just couldn’t run that fast, but when Nick hit a
home run, it didn’t matter how slow he ran around the bases! He covered
home plate well, and the local newspapers soon were talking about Nick
being the best catcher in the league.
One day at the end of April, toward the end of the season, Nick and the
other players were called to a special meeting with the coach. He told
them that for the next home series, there
would be a scout from the Yankees in the stands. That was all Nick
needed to hear. He was fired up and determined to do his best. Nick’s
team swept the series, which put Nick on top of the world. He just knew
he’d get an offer from the Yankees, and his dream would come true. He
knew he’d probably have to start out at the Yankees’ single A farm team
in Staten Island, but it would be a start. Besides, Staten Island was
close to his hometown in North Jersey and so his friends and family
could watch him play!
After the last game of the series was finished, Nick and his team mates
hit the showers. The usual locker room horseplay went right by Nick this
time. He didn’t respond at all to the usual swats to his huge naked
butt with wet towels and jokes about earthquakes taking place as Nick’s
fat ass bounced, wobbled, jiggled and vibrated with every step he took.
He just stood there, letting the warm
water course over his powerful shoulders, pecs, and arms, dreaming of
what it would be like to be wearing Yankee pinstripes.
Nick came out of his dream world when he realized he was the only player
still in the shower. He turned off the water, stepped out into the
locker room, grabbed his towel and dried himself off. Nick tugged on his
oversize made-to-order boxer shorts and the new pair of shorts he had
just picked up at the tailor shop before the series started. Nick had
heard somewhere that the color black made people look thinner, so these
new shorts were the darkest black Nick could find. When he tried them on
at the tailors, he strained to see if they made his enormous rumpcheeks
look any smaller. He couldn’t really tell, but he hoped they did.
As he pulled on his t-shirt, he flexed his triceps, biceps, and pecs. He
hoped the scout for the Yankees had noticed how well he could hit the
ball. His glance went further down to his abs, still upholstered in a
layer of flab even with all the healthy eating he had been doing.
Even though he didn’t want to look at his wide flab-padded lovehandles
and flanks, he couldn’t help it. Well, he thought, he had done his best
in this series and he said a silent prayer for a chance with the
As Nick made his way out of the locker room, he noticed the door to the
coach’s office was open a couple of inches. He slowed down, intending on
going in to say good night to the coach. Nick stopped as he heard two
From what was being said, Nick realized the Coach and the scout for the
Yankees were talking. He knew he shouldn’t listen, but he was overcome
by the same instinct that made him read Tiffany’s emails a couple of
Nick stood outside the door and listened. The two men talked about old
times and old friends. Then Nick could hear his coach say, “Well, let’s
get down to business. I got some good talent on this team. Is there
any info I can give you that will help you and the Yankee organization
make some decisions?”
After talking about four or five guys—pitchers, outfielders, and the
first baseman—Nick’s coach said, “What do you think of our starting
catcher? Out of all my players, I have to be honest with you, he’s the
guy with the most talent to make it in the majors. He’s the best catcher
in our league and the most powerful hitter, too. You’ve seen the
numbers. He leads our league in home runs and runs batted in.”
The scout replied in his heavy “Noo Yawk” accent. “You mean the fat guy?
C’mon, if I offer him a contract, even for single A ball, Steinbrenner
will never let me hear the end of it. He’s listed at—what—276? And a
hundred of that has to be in his rear end. He’s gonna get a contract and
start eating—I’ve seen it before. A kid with a build like his is
never gonna be able to keep his weight down.”
Nick’s coach replied, “Listen, you and I go back
a long time, right? I’ll be honest with you. This kid Nick has been
working hard for four years to keep in shape. He’s the most motivated
guy on the team. I know the choice is up to you, but, he’s worth a
chance. Yeah, he’s a big boy for his height, and from what I know he’s
always been big back there, but you saw how well he plays his position.”
Nick was listening even more closely as the scout responded. “Yeah, his
technique is great. But, my friend, you’ve been working with him for
four years. Take a step back and look at
him from my perspective. When this kid….what’s his name, Nick?….when
this kid Nick is crouching behind home plate, his butt is so huge it’s
almost dragging on the ground. And that’s now. Give him a couple more
years and he’ll be even bigger. I’ve seen it happen with guys half his
size. Guys with “fireplug” builds like him just blow up like
balloons…and right now this kid’s got the biggest balloon ass I’ve ever
seen! Not to mention how slow he is running bases. He’s just got way too
much tonnage back there to haul around….”
At this point, Nick quietly walked away from the door. He had heard
enough. He knew he had just heard the end of his dreams for a baseball
Nick slowly walked around town on his way from the locker room back
to the dorm. He was disappointed but realistic. The end of baseball
season was a short while away, and then graduation from college. He had
to get on with his life, even if wearing Yankee pinstripes wasn’t going
to be a part of it.
After walking for a while, Nick ended up at a Burger King. It seemed
like the aroma of the food lured him inside, and the next thing he knew
he was sitting at a table eating two double whoppers with cheese, large
fries, large onion rings, and a strawberry shake.
For the couple of weeks remaining in the college baseball season, Nick
kept up his training even though he no longer cared about what he ate.
By the last game of the season, he weighed in at 280. After that, Nick
didn’t bother to work out any more. Why should he? The Yankees didn’t
want him, and all for a reason he had no control over. All his
hard work, training, and watching what he ate over the years didn’t mean
crap. His genetics did him in—to Nick, it seemed like he was
condemned by fate to have a huge backside no matter what he did to keep
The baseball season ended with Nick being chosen his team’s most
valuable player. At the end-of-season banquet, one of the highlights was
a humorous video made by the coaches. It was meant to be in good fun—there
were scenes of spectacular plays, other scenes of goofs—like the
center fielder and right fielder colliding with each other to catch a fly
ball, and scenes of each player caught unaware that they were being
video’ed. All the team howled and catcalled when a shot came on the
screen of the horniest guy on the team scratching his crotch, when they
saw a series of other embarrassing misplays involving just about every
player on the team, and finally, shots of a bench-clearing brawl which
happened in one game when a batter was beaned by the pitcher of the
Nick cheered along with the rest of the team—until the image came up
of him heading off the bench, massive ass in motion, each buttcheek
wildly wobbling, shaking, and bouncing. The rest of the team started to
chant in unison “Big Caboose, Big Caboose, Big
Caboose,” punctuated by some calls of “shake it, Nick, shake it!!” The
chant and catcalls continued while the video showed Nick and some other
guys still brawling with the other team. It was obvious, though, that
whoever took the video was focusing on Nick’s giant rump—sideviews,
backviews, close-ups. Nick felt himself blushing while he squirmed in
his seat—squirmed his enormous buttcheeks, which he could feel were
packed onto the seat as usual, overflowing the space enclosed by the back
of the chair and the two armrests. Nick put a weak grin on his face as
the chanting died down and the video went on to other “highlights” of
That was it for Nick. He went back to the
dorm from the banquet and spent the rest of the night thinking,
thinking about himself. All his life he had to deal with taunts and
teasing about the size of his rear end. Why did he have to be so huge back there?
He couldn’t help it…he had tried to keep himself in shape and yet his
dreams of playing for the Yankees were crushed. He smiled ruefully at
that—no matter what he did, he was known for one thing—the size of his
buttocks. All the teasing over the years, from the time he was old
enough to remember until the night of his baseball team’s awards banquet
replayed in his mind. He thought of Josh and then Tiffany. Had they
been attracted to him as a person? No, they were attracted to him
because of his enormous rear end. Nick was so sick of being known just
for his gigantic backside. Once again he cursed his fate.
Graduation came, and Nick returned to North Jersey. His older brother
Joey hired him as a junior accountant in the small firm he owned. Nick
enrolled at Fairleigh Dickinson University in night classes to work on
his master’s in accounting. With help from his parents, he bought
himself a small condo in North Jersey in the next town over from where
he had grown up.
Nick kept up his contacts with some of his high school and college
buddies and made new friends at work. He religiously followed the
Yankees on cable television—he made some trips to Yankee Stadium, but
as time went on Nick discovered that the seats there
grew more and more uncomfortable with each trip he made, so he came to
prefer to enjoy the watching the games at home on his giant flatscreen
TV with his buddies and family.
Why were the seats becoming more uncomfortable? After all, given how
“big back there” Nick always had been, the seats never ever were
comfortable for him.
Well, from the day Nick overheard the scout from the Yankees talking
with his college baseball coach and putting an end to his dreams of
wearing Yankee pinstripes, Nick had given up watching his weight and
trying to keep in shape. Why bother? He no longer had anything to keep
in shape for. Nick wasn’t consciously trying to put on weight—he just
indulged his always-big appetite. Every
workday, hearty breakfasts, lunches, and dinners were followed by
non-stop snacking in the front of the television in the evening.
When he went to his night classes at Fairleigh Dickinson, he snacked on
candy bars while taking notes and always stopped some place afterwards
for a “snack”. Nick lived in the heart of New Jersey’s “diner
country”—where Routes 46, 4, 17, and 3, not to mention many of the
main streets off those highways, seem to be lined by diners, each
serving a long menu of delicious, well cooked comfort food and desserts
at reasonable prices. In between the diners, every known fast food
outlet from Arby’s to Wendy’s could be found. Then, of course, there
were hundreds of pizzerias, Italian bakeries and groceries, and
higher-end “ristorantes”. So, if Nick didn’t feel like cooking at home,
he didn’t have far to go to satisfy his hearty appetite. On weekends,
whether out with friends or at home doing chores, Nick grazed
At his brother Joey’s accounting business, Joey made sure that there
was a budget for snacks to go with the ever-ready coffee. The
secretaries alternated bringing in pastries every morning. Without even
realizing it, Nick took to “grazing” all day long. Out of the five
people in the office—Joey, Nick, a paraprofessional, and the two
secretaries, Nick grazed the most and by 3 p.m., all the pastries were
Joey, who “Bucket Butt” Nick had always called “Santa Belly” when they
were kids, had grown into a large man, taller than Nick by three inches.
His always-prominent belly had developed over the years since he
graduated from college into a truly amazing mountain of flab, thanks to
his wife’s delicious home cooking, businessmen’s lunches with clients,
and his indulging the same hearty appetite his kid brother Nick always
had. Joey, who stressed dressing professionally on the job to his kid
brother, looked the part of a prosperous accountant with his tailor made
dress shirts and suit pants straining to contain his massive belly,
huge man boobs, lovehandles, and hefty hips and thighs. When Nick
started working with him, Joey automatically ordered a second extra-wide
office chair for his balloon-butted kid brother. Second chair? Well,
Joey’s increasing size had already caused him to need such a chair. Not
that his rear end was THAT big, certainly not as big
as Nick’s man mountains, but Joey had a quite a spread on him when he
sat. He automatically spread his hefty thighs wide when he was seated,
allowing his huge belly some room to hang free—so the extra wide chair
was just more comfortable.
So, Nick was in the perfect environment to indulge his appetite and
enjoy life. Three years after he had graduated from college and learned
his dreams of playing baseball for the Yankees were crushed, Nick was
25 years old, close to getting his M.B.A. from Fairleigh Dickinson, and
happy with how is life was going. If he had bothered to weigh himself,
the scale would have settled at around 380. Half the additional weight
he unthinkingly put on had settled on Nick’s already massive rump,
flanks, and thighs. His hips had spread to the point that they were now substantially
wider than his broad shoulders. Nick’s already-huge buttocks were now so
round, full, and prominent that getting into or out of just about any
make of motor vehicle was a struggle for him.
But Nick wasn’t bothered by the extra weight. The new flab which hadn’t
settled onto his rump padded the rest of his body. When Nick looked in
the mirror every morning after showering, he saw how his muscular arms
and shoulders were upholstered in flab and how his face had filled out
so that his now-chubby cheeks dimpled when he smiled and a wide double
chin and thick jowls softened his formerly chiseled chin.The dimples
appeared as he observed how the newly-deposited soft flab of his big
hairy pecs stretched each of his brown nipples to the size of 50 cent
pieces. The sag downward of each flabby pec-turned-mantit was limited by
the fact they rested on top of Nick’s new pot belly.
That was what pleased Nick the most as he checked himself out. A belly!
Yup, a full-on pot belly–complete with a sunken bellybutton–which sat
on his abdomen, set off on each side by his wide lovehandles and which
strained the front of his dress shirt at work and automatically
ballooned over his beltline. Nick could even feel his new belly shift
from side to side and bounce slightly as he walked—nothing like the
massive movement of his mountainous rear end, and certainly nothing as
big as Joey’s massive front feature, but still—Nick loved his new pot
Love his belly? Isn’t that kind of extreme, you might ask? Well, as Nick
enjoyed life after he graduated from college and his entire body
expanded because of his lifestyle, he noticed how people reacted to him.
After all, he had always been sensitive because of how big he had been
“back there” and the constant teasing and taunting and unwelcome
attention it brought.
When he went clubbing with his buddies and he’d come across an
attractive female and they’d start to chat, she’d use phrases like
“you’re such a big cute teddy bear” as
she sexily rubbed his bellyflab. At family get-togethers, cousins who he
hadn’t seen in a while came up to him and chatted and patted his pot
belly and made remarks like “hey, getting pretty big there, Nick!”, and
“life’s treating you well, big guy!”. At Thanksgiving, Christmas and
Easter dinners, always big
feasts in his family, his grandmothers, aunties and his mom found
excuses to pat Nick’s belly or pinch one of his lovehandles while
offering him more food and saying, “you look so good now, Nicky!” or
“it’s nice to see how you enjoy my cooking”.
The highlight came one day at work when his brother Joey and he were
standing at the coffee machine, each munching on a piece of Entenmann’s
pastry, idly chatting about the last Yankees game. Out of the blue, Joey
glanced down at his massive gut, then looked over at Nick’s flabby new
pot belly, patted it and said smilingly, “way to go, little brother,
you’re starting to take after me!”
All these things made him happy, very happy. He was very pleased by all
the attention he got as a “fat guy” with a pot belly (small as it was in
comparison with his mountainous behind). Not once during the three
years which had passed since he had graduated from college did anyone
comment on how big he was “back there” or how much “junk he had in his
trunk”. His nicknames of “Big
Caboose”, “Lardass” and “Bucket Butt” were forgotten as his belly got
bigger. It didn’t matter that his hips and massive rear end were bigger
than ever—whatever attention he got now was caused by the size of his
growing paunch. To Nick it seemed like he fit in now, merely as a fat
with a growing gut, one of millions. He no longer felt like a freak of
nature. For the first time in his life, he was truly happy with the way
I found this on Facebook! A wonderfully worded response to a STUPID video!
Ok, here we go… I said I would post a response to this video, once I gathered my thoughts. It took me a little longer than I wanted it to, but I finally have a few minutes to myself, so here I go…
Before I start, I just want to day that I am not an expert, or professional, etc. I am someone that works in the dairy industry, loves animals, and has some dairy education and experience from a few different places.
I usually don’t speak up when it comes to things like this, but enough is enough. I just can’t let this one go.
Everything that I am about to type, is based on my own personal experiences - whether on a farm or in the classroom.
I am going to respond in order of things mentioned in the video, so it will be easier to follow along - for those that want to.
Warning: this is going to be long.
1) Yes, dairy farmers use artificial insemination. It is nearly painless to the animal, and gets rid of the dangers (to animal AND human) of having a bull around.
2) We do not do it “over and over”, if she is referring to the A.I. process. Straws of semen cost money. We want them to conceive on the first try. If she’s referring to getting them pregnant “over and over”, well most farms have a minimum of a 60 day “voluntary waiting period”, which is the length of time given to a cow, after she gives birth, until the time she is inseminated. A cow’s gestation period is 9 months.
Some heifers are 12 months old when they are bred - some aren’t. Generally, it doesn’t go by age, but rather, by body size. Each heifer is different. It is a judgement call for someone with experience.
If a heifer gets too big (old) and fat (which she will) it becomes less likely that she will “settle” (get pregnant), and if she does, she is likely to experience difficulties while calving. A fat dairy cow or heifer is NOT a good thing)
3) I love how she says that farmers “jack off a bunch of bulls”… Sheesh! Grow up, will ya?
High quality (tested) bulls are kept at very nice facilities (usually owned by companies that sell semen).
Sometimes, the bulls are taught to mount dummy (fake) animals (a large, padded structure) while a person holds a container to collect the semen, that is designed to feel like a cow’s vagina.
Yes, sometimes an electroejaculator probe is used instead. It isn’t at bad as it sounds. And no, it isn’t “basically a big cow dildo” - what is with this girl?!
It is inserted into the bill’s rectum and it gives off a series of small electrical pulses (not shocks) which stimulates the bull to ejaculate.
These bulls are worth a lot of money, and are treated very well. They’re fed a high quality diet - designed by nutritionists - and are kept in clean, well-ventilated facilities.
They literally eat, drink, poop, sleep, play and “donate” semen… Rough life, huh???
4)The industry does NOT call it a “rape rack”… If we do, it is to mock idiots, like the woman in the video. The animal is restrained in a headlock or a chute, to ensure the safety of the animal and the person doing the insemination.
By the way, the picture shown in the video, when she says “rape rack” is actually a “rotary parlor” - where cows get milked while slowly going around, like they’re on a carousel. Breeding does not take place there. Again, she is an idiot.
The “long tube” is actually called an Artificial Insemination gun. It is basically a long, skinny syringe. The semen straw is loaded in the end of it, then guided through the cervix and into the uterine body and/or uterine horns, where the semen is deposited.
5) Yes, while doing A.I., a person must insert their arm into the rectum. This is NOT to “loosen the area” (or whatever ridiculous thing she said)… It is simply to guide the tip of the A.I. gun in the right direction to pass through the cervix. There are many folds inside of a cow’s vaginal tract, and a series of cartilaginous rings in their cervix. It takes a lot of practice feeling around, and knowledge of the anatomy of a bovine reproductive tract to be successful at A.I. breeding.
6) “Got Beastiality?” … Really?! C'mon. Cows and heifers need to get pregnant in order to lactate and be valuable assets to the business. Doing A.I. is just another job on the farm. It is not “Beastiality”. Ugh.
7) Yes, calves are taken away shortly after birth. Usually, after the mother licks it off, because it stimulates the calf and dries it off. That is, IF the mother is willing. Some cows want absolutely nothing to do with the calf. Some cows do get upset when you take the calf away, but they are completely over it within minutes. In fact, some cows show more frustration over taking a calf away that didn’t even belong to them! It’s new, it smells funny, it moves and makes noise, and cows are naturally curious. I do want to point out, though, that I am ONLY talking about dairy cows - not beef. Beef cows have STRONG maternal instincts because they’ve been bred that way. Mothering abilities/maternal instincts are not focused on in the dairy industry, becuase it is simply not needed.
Calves are taken away for a number of reasons. Overall, it just isn’t practical to keep all of the calves with the cows. Unless they are outside, in a large area, the calves will get stepped on/laid on and killed by the cows… It is easier to care for/monitor calves, and treat sick calves, if they are seperated. That way, we know exactly how much milk (colostrum) each calf gets, and we are able to make sure it is high quality colostrum, because each cow’s first milk (“colostrum”) is tested.
Calves are born with no immune system, and they need a certain amount of high quality colostrum to receive an ideal amount of immunoglobulins through passive immunity (passed on to the calf, by its mother, through her colostrum, and absorbed in the calf’s gut) within a short period of time.
Remember, calves are the future of every dairy farm. We want them to grow up to be happy, healthy, high-producing cows. Why would we harm them in any way?
8) The way the calves are being handled in this video is NOT acceptable, and is not a fair representation of the dairy industry. Like anything else, there are always “bad guys”. Unfortunately, the bad ones are the ones that get the most publicity. Over time, the public starts to perceive the awful things they’ve seen as “normal”. It is not.
9) Ok, now we’re at the part where the cow is mooing. The woman in the video says she is searching for her baby. I suppose it is a possibility - However, I’d be willing to bet all of the money I have, on the fact that this cow is simply mooing. Cows do this. It is the noise they make. If you are 10 minutes late feeding them, and they hear a tractor start up, you’ll hear an entire cow choir start doing this.
If a cow is in heat (estrus), she will do this until she annoys the heck out of you.
If another cow is moved to a different pen, she will do this. If you move a cow’s friend (yes, they have friends) to another pen, they will both do this. There are MANY reasons for a cow to “moo”.
From my experience, the sound that a cow makes when she doesn’t want you to take her calf, is a completely different sound… Lower tone, more of a humming/grunting noise.
Again, totally different situation with beef cattle.
10) “If it’s a male, its throat is slit and sold for veal”. Wrong! Yes, some bull calves are raised and then sold for veal. If so, they are raised at veal raising facilities. The way they are raised is not the responsibility of the dairy farm. They way they are killed is not the responsibility of the person(s) raising the calves.
Many veal calves are killed humanely.
Many calves aren’t raised for veal, but instead, are sold at sale barns and end up at feedlots - where they are fed until they are fully grown, then slaughtered for beef.
11) Yes, dairy cattle only produce milk after calving. Yes, a good dairy cow will give birth to many calves in her lifetime. It is what they’ve been bred to do.
However, each cow is given a break, called a “dry period”. Approximately 2 months before she is due to have her calf, a cow is no long milked. She will be given a special diet that is adjusted by dairy nutritionists, to give the cow and unborn calf all of the nutrition they need to be healthy, without the cow getting too fat. She is no longer using energy to produce milk, so she can gain weight very quickly. “Dry cows” are often let outside to graze, and spend all day being lazy.
12) This woman claims that keeping a dairy cow lactating causes mastitis (inflammation/infection of the udder)… It does not “cause” mastitis. Infection from bacteria, viruses, injuries, etc. cause mastitis. However, usually only lactating cows (or cows that have lactated) get it, so…
I guess it’s kind of like saying you got into a car wreck becuase you were in a vehicle. Well, that may be true - you can’t be in a car wreck if you never get into one - but that also doesn’t mean that you WILL get into a wreck if you get into a vehicle, or that the act of BEING in a vehicle is the reason you got into a wreck.
13) “Sometimes filtered”… NO. It is a requirement to filter the milk at the farm. It is filtered before it even reaches the bulk tank. Did you know that farms that sell milk have to be inspected?
The quick picture that is shown of a disgusting filter is another unfair representation. “Somatic cells” are cells that the body (of every living animal) sheds - more so, when there is an infection present. All milk has somatic cells. It is natural. If cows didn’t have somatic cells, they’d have no way to fight off infection. Elevated levels of somatic cells usually indicate an infection, such as mastitis. It is not the same thing as pus in a pimple. She is simply trying to gross people out. If a cow has a high somatic cell count, or visable evidence of infection, or if she is treated with antibiotics to help get rid of an infection, her milk is not put into the bulk tank. It is either dumped or fed to calves. There are penalties for each bulk tank that has a somatic cell count over a certain amount, and premiums for each tank that is below a certain amount. Many people (including myself) drink raw (unpasteurized, unhomoginized) milk, straight from the bulk tank.
Do you think we would choose to drink pus??!
14)“Downer cows” - cows can go down for MANY reasons… Sickness, injury, slipping and falling, knocked down by another cow, etc. AGAIN, the video clips shown are not a fair representation of what goes on at most dairy farms.
The clip showing the cow’s back end being lifted by a skidsteer - Yes, sometimes we have to do that. A down cow is a dead cow. She needs to get to her feet. Sometimes, the only way to get her there is by using “hip lifts” - a tool that is tightened around the animal’s hip bones, so she can be lifted to her feet.
The clip does not show proper usage - she should be gently lifted until she can get her legs squarely underneath her body - NOT hung in the air.
All of the other hidden video clips that are shown just before and after that one are disgusting and shameful. Shame on those people for treating animals that way.
Whew… Ok, rant over. It felt good to get that out. If you made it this far, reading my rant, thank you.
Remember - things are not always as they seem, certain things are done for a reason, and if you want to know more, ask a farmer!
A good farmer will be happy to explain things to you, and show you around. Good farmers are proud of what they do.
A bad farmer will make excuses, because they have something to hide.
Harry smirked to himself as you sucked on his collarbones. “Kitten,” he
whined. “The boys’ll see them…”
“Good,” you said.
It really wasn’t good and did get you thinking that maybe you should ease
up on his skin. But another part of you couldn’t get enough of his milky skin
and his protruding collarbones. You continued to leave kisses and little marks
across the bones. Harry moaned softly. “Kitten…” he said softly. “Is it my turn
yet?” He asked.
You blushed, giggling to yourself at his implication and started to push
his shirt over his head. His eyes glazed over with lust for you and your
perfect body. He wanted to be in charge—wanted to be in charge of your
Part of you knew this, which is why you continued to leave marks all
along his toned body. Your mouth found each of his nipples and he moaned loudly
as you softly kitten-licked each little peak. Your hands slid their way into
the basketball shorts he was lounging in and you found his hardening member
(Harry never wore boxers when it was just the two of you). He hissed at the
contact of your soft hands on the most sensitive part of his skin. “Feel good,
baby?” You whispered into his ear as you gently ran your fingers along the
ridges of his cock.
He could barely breathe—it was always like this. You always left Harry
breathless at your touch. “Y-yeah,” he moaned softly. “Feels…s’good, k-kitten.”
You really weren’t all that confident about this sort of thing—since
Harry was usually in charge…that’s how you preferred things, just because he
knew what to do to make you feel good and he seemed to get off pleasuring you. “You’re
so big, Har-bear,” you whispered. It was stroking his ego—literally.
“Uhn,” he could form one coherent word. You lowered your head down gently
taking his tip in between your lips. Harry groaned, his head falling back
against the couch as your suckled on his head and rolled your tongue over him.
“Kitten,” he whimpered. You smiled as his fingers slid into the back of your
hair and you slowly lowered your mouth more. He never ever wanted to hurt
you—even in the throes of pleasure Harry knew you couldn’t take all of him, you
had tried before and it wasn’t pleasurable for you…making it un-pleasurable for
Harry. So you wrapped your hand around the base of him and taking as much as you
could into your mouth. Your other hand lightly cupped the heavy round members
at the base of his penis. Your thumb gently stroked the middle, soft, velvety
part of his balls and had him keening. Sweat beaded down his chest as you
continued to suck hollowing your cheeks around him. “Fuck,” he groaned his eyes
squeezing shut so tightly. His mouth fell open, small gasps panting through his
“Come on, baby,” you whispered pulling off him and running your tongue up
and down his throbbing member. “Wanna taste you,” you smirked peppering him
with small little kisses.
He moaned as you slid your mouth around him again swirling your tongue
around and then sucking hard and alternating that until Harry released onto
your tongue with a low growl in his chest. You giggled as you waited for him to
finish pulling away. Harry kept his eyes closed as he tried to overcome the
pleasure that was still wracking his body.
You sat up on the couch leaning against the back supporting your neck and
gazing at him lovingly. His eyes opened half way in a daze of love and lust for
you. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“It’s your turn now,” you said softly. Harry’s eyes narrowed just a bit
and he already felt himself hardening again.
Harry pulled your shirt over your head, then slid your pants clean off
your legs. He wrapped each of his large hands around your calves and pulled you
toward him so you were flat on your back. He admired your glowing skin and he
slid his hands tantalizingly up your thighs. “Mm,” he hummed. “So pretty,” he
whispered pushing your legs apart. You blushed at the exposure Harry got you
into, but he loved you—every part of you. And although you were still a bit shy
and nervous Harry was in love with you. “Ready to feel really good, kitten?” He
You sucked your lip into your mouth and nodded. He grinned wickedly, lifting
one of your legs to the side as he inched closer and closer to where you wanted
him to be. “So pretty, kitten,” he breathed. You moaned, your chest heaving up
and down as he slowly moved into you—inch. By perfect. Inch.
The moan you released was unreal, it made you feel silly and your face
turned bright red, but Harry groaned at the sound because you looked so pleased
and sounded so pleased. You throbbed around him and Harry leaned down, pulling
your leg so it hooked around his hip. He pressed his lips against yours. “Oh
fuck,” he moaned against your mouth his eyebrows knitting together. “Feel
s’good,” he slurred in a lusty haze.
“H-Harry,” you whispered breathlessly. From the way your body yielded to
his and how your legs seemed to tighten around his waist he assumed you were
close to falling apart.
“Right there, baby?” He whispered. “Feel good?”
“Y-yes,” you gasped. Harry rutted down his pubic bone pressing against
your hidden button that feels so good to be touched. “Harry!” You shouted
before you can stop yourself.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispered. His gentle words were enough to push
you over the edge…you moaned and your head fell back on the couch as Harry rode
you through your high, his second orgasm following yours. He moaned and buried
his face into your neck. “You feel like heaven, beautiful,” he mumbled.
You smiled softly, exhausted from Harry.
“You were only supposed to kiss my collarbones,” you whispered.
He chuckled darkly placing a
chaste kiss on your throat considering how “chaste” the two of you were moments
before. “Oh, darling, I’m not done with you yet…you’re not going anywhere for
quite some time.”
You know I really love that thick girls are all the rage nowadays and frankly, it makes me feel a little more positive about my own body…
But can we not just support thick girls with smooth even skin but also the girls with cellulite and stretch marks and rashes from chafing and hyper pigmentation?
Thick girls of all colors from the lightest of light to the darkest of dark. Not just tan, smooth, “mami” looking types, but the thick girls who have tummies too. Thick girls with boobs that hang low. Thick girls with large calves. Thick girls who have thick arms too.
SELLING MY NEO POLITAN UMBRELLA AND BOOTS!!!!!!!!!
The umbrella has been used once, and will get to you free of any paint chips or flaws. It’s hand painted with acrylic paint and sealed, and took roughly 6+ hours to completely paint. The handle is taken from another umbrella and hot glued to the handle. NOTE - Because the umbrella is painted with acrylic paint, it added enough of an extra layer that the umbrella cannot close enough to lock into place, however i fixed this by just using a piece of black tape to keep it closed when not using it. This does not cause any visible issue or affect it when open, you just have to be careful not to swing it around a lot while closed because it slides back open.
The boots are completely unworn except for a few times i tried them on at home. They’re a size nine, but if you have large calves be careful - the reason I’m not using them is because my calves were too big for them to zip up by about two inches. If you’re concerned in they’ll fit I’d be glad to measure them for you before you buy them!
PRICING (without shipping):
Umbrella - $50 (this barely covers cost of materials and is no where near how much i would charge for a commission for this. I can paint the tip pink for you for a little bit extra.) See more pictures of the umbrella in my cosplay tag here.
Boots - $40 (cheaper than you can currently get them for online)
Buy both and get them for $80 instead of $90!
Estimated shipping price for inside the US is $20, estimated price for international shipping is $60.
I am willing to ship anywhere as long as you’re willing to pay the shipping cost, and I’m also willing to deliver them in person if you can meet me in LA or Corona, CA, or at Anime Expo! Accepting payment via paypal or cash (cash only if we meet in person).
Awhile back, I was taking requests for post ideas. This topic was astronomically requested, and I’ve been working on this for the past two weeks trying to make a suitable guide for you guys! I tried my best toi thoroughly cover the above topics. Before you delve into this post, I do go over types of clothing that flatter different body shapes. If one of the clothing types I mention and are your absolute favorite, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that! You should continue wearing what you love and what makes you happy! The ideas presented here are meant to me taken as loose suggestions in a guide format. I did my best to make an absolute masterpost of everywhere I could think of that sold plus size items.