With a sharp crack on the rump, Coach Fowler sent Dustin off to pick out football equipment for himself. Dustin grabbed the largest jersey he could find, along with
pads, a jock, and a pair of white game pants. He couldn't wait to get into his uniform. The pouch on the extra-large jock filled impressively as Dustin cupped his ripe
genitals into it. He strapped on the pads, and squirmed his heavy thighs and big rump into the snug pants lacing them under the small proud bulge of his gut. He was
glad the team wore cropped jerseys for practice. It would give him the chance to show off the extra belly poundage he had packed on thanks to Ty. Dustin threw back
his shoulders, and swelled his chest, drawing himself up to his full height as the rest of the team returned from the practice field, and filed into the room.
"Wow, Big Kid!" grunted one of the senior CO-captains, as he grabbed a handful of Dustin's thick meaty upper arm.
"He's well over three hundred!" chirped the coach proudly, shooting Dustin a rakish wink. Dustin shook hands and smiled broadly as many of the senior players tipped
their heads back to meet his eye level. The few who outsized him were more than happy to add another big guy to their fold. Several playful fingers poked the bulge of
healthy pot roast he carried around his middle. As the team continued to the showers, Dustin was assigned a locker where he stashed his uniform and changed back
into street clothes.
"Yer gonna be wearin' big number "75" Dustin," announced the coach. It was the same number huge Skip Matson had worn two years earlier. Dustin grinned broadly.
Skip had been a standout lineman, and was now a starting nose tackle at UCLA. He could only dream of the same future for himself.
The weather was warm and sunny, and Dustin felt as if his walk home was on clouds. He could hardly wait to tell Ty about his new position on the team. He barged
through the front door and yelled up the stairs to see if his little brother was home. Just inside, an enormous pair of green work pants and a huge green work shirt were
strewn across the floor.
"Howdy Sport!" rumbled a deep voice, as gigantic Matt barreled through the living room like a passing freight train. Fresh from the shower, and wearing nothing but a
brand new pair of big white briefs, the powerful plumber looked more massive than ever. Dustin scooped the big man's uniform up off the floor and followed him into
the kitchen.
"Hope you got an appetite Big Guy!" grinned Matt, as he stirred a large pot of chili warming on the stove. Dustin smiled back patting himself on the gut to affirm that
he was indeed hungry. The chili smelled good, and there was fresh baked corn bread cooling on the counter along with nacho chips, avocado dip, and salsa.
"I cook in LARGE quantities," Matt explained, as he nodded toward the chili, and ran a huge hand through the mat of fur that spread across his chest and ran down his
belly. The big man's biceps rippled and gleamed like whopping cantaloupes swelling in the sun, and they flexed slightly as he scratched himself. Dustin was awestruck
by the mammoth tower of beefy muscle shifting and swaying in front of him as Matt rambled on about a stint in the army, and time spent in San Antonio.
"Fill up a bowl, and put some hair on your chest Son," barked Matt, waking Dustin from his daydreams. A large serving bowl was shoved into Dustin's hand as Matt
ladled it full of chili, and filled another huge bowl for himself. The two were soon at the table, laughing, and sharing the days events. Matt's eyes gleamed as he listened
to Dustin recount his afternoon in the football locker room. He admitted to buying extra weight equipment so that he and Dustin could work out together in the
basement. Dustin could think of nothing he would enjoy more.
After a second huge bowl of chili, and two six-packs of Corona, Matt leaned back in his chair and eased off a long low crescendoing belch. His belly rose up over the
table top, round and fat, and swollen with food and beer. He grinned, happily bloated, and pleasantly intoxicated. Dustin sunk back in his chair, and loosened his belt,
trying hard to match the gusto of Matt's extended burp.
"Bring it up from the gut," coached Matt, spanking his big stomach, "like this..." The belch that followed was even bigger than the first, rolling up from the depths and
echoing off the ceiling. Once again Dustin was spellbound. He watched as the massive bear rose from the table, adjusted the front of his briefs, and scratched the
underside of his pot.
"How much do you weigh?" asked Dustin tentatively, remembering his conversation with coach that afternoon. Matt straightened his shoulders and made a futile
attempt to suck in his belly.
"Let's just say it's been a good while since I've seen the south side of four hundred." Matt answered dryly, then winked at Dustin and pulled him up out of his chair so
that the two of them stood toe to toe.
"And just for the record," he added, "I'm six eight and a quarter. Barefoot." Dustin looked across the room at the tremendous work boots Matt had left parked near the
back door, then he stared up at the great beefy muscle daddy in front of him and wondered if he'd ever be that big himself.
"I've gone up a brief size too," Matt smirked, tugging at the back of his big skivvies to cover his butt crack.