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Fat Bud Part 1 By BOBtheBEARI work at a desk job in a small auto-parts place where the owner, Fat Bud—as he calls himself—hired me right on the spot 3 months ago when he saw my prodigious typing and bookkeeping skills. Essentially hiring me for two jobs, reception AND bookkeeping—for $2.00 more on the hour (at my insistence, of course)—my life has been real hectic ever since. But, the money flows in, and the business is doing even better now, so I can’t complain too much. Anyway, my boss is in & out all day, usually spending up to three or four hours at the shop at a time, so I essentially run things up front. Fat Bud is a nice guy, a huge balding jovial man, although I swear sometimes that he wants to work me to death. I’ve mentioned that to him in passing a couple of times; he always apologizes, and says that I’m just too good at what I do to let me go early. Besides, he added the last time as a kind of joke, “You’re just too good-looking for the customers; you know that impressing the women helps the business out, don’t you?” He laughed and gave me a good, strong pat on the back. That was when I showed him my rainbow billfold wallet and said, “Yes, but I’m not available for them.” He chuckled and asked, “Well, then, who ARE you available for?” I took that remark to be one of slightly clueless origin, so I spelled it out for him. “My husband,” I said slyly, as if the golden band on my left ring finger hadn’t given THAT fact away. Although I thought that was a cool comeback that would make him laugh, he didn’t; instead, his smile kind of turned into a half-frown, and he turned away and said, “Well, in that case, you can get out of here just an hour after closing. Alright?” “Cool,” I said, as Fat Bud walked out the front door, his hugely fat ass barely being contained by too-tight black slacks. That happened about a week ago, and I haven’t heard much from him since, except for a now lower-key “hi” when he stops into the shop in the morning. Which is weird, because now I’m wondering if he doesn’t like the fact that I’m gay. But then again, if he didn’t, he probably would’ve fired me. Being that it’s the Summer of Lust in 1999 in the city of Tacoma, WA, people like me don’t have the protection of the law on our side; not officially yet, anyway. On that day a week ago, I was just grateful to be getting out of work two hours earlier than usual, thereby avoiding another one of my typical 10-hour days at the shop. But now, at night next to my hubby Eric, I think about it before going to sleep, and I begin to worry a little. I’m a Cancer, so worry is in my nature. Eric, a nurturing Scorpio, noticed this the other night and asked me what was wrong. I told him about my boss, and how I was worried that we don’t get along as well since I told him about my being gay; Eric thought for a second and said, “Well, maybe we should invite him over for dinner tomorrow night.” I looked at him like he was from Mars or some other non-earthly place, and he then explained, “Maybe it would help break the ice that’s formed between you two in the past week.” I pondered the idea, and all of a sudden, it seemed the perfect thing to do. “Sure,” I agreed, “I’ll ask him in the morning. But,” I cautioned Eric, “I don’t expect him to say yes.” Eric rolled his eyes and said, “Well let’s just see if he does.” Boy, he seems pretty confident, doesn’t he? Hmmm, maybe he knows something that I don’t. But then again, he usually does!I’ll admit it; I love big fat men; always have, always will. I’m a real horn-dog when it comes to big, smooth fat asses. I guess that’s why I’ve had to learn to contain myself when Fat Bud walks into, or out of, the shop. Man, I’d love to get a piece of that ass! I’m especially drawn to those who are friendly and have a good personality, like both my boss and my hubby. Eric himself is a big, husky bear of a man, standing six-foot-four and now down to weighing 300; after being over 400 for a few years, he now fits my other favorite type: that of the ex-football linebacker whose body has plumped out a bit, but still has an athletic quality to it. I tell him all the time that I do like him better this way, and indeed, his naturally handsome face looks sleeker, and his body is less bloated. He’s kind of worried, though, since he knows that I like the pear-shaped look on men; also, I loved him when he was REALLY big. I convincingly assured him that I love him now and forever, no matter what he weighs, and am glad that he’s happier now that he is looking and feeling much healthier. Eric knows how much I love him; besides, we’ve been having double the amount of sex that we ever did when he was fridge-sized!Fat Bud is not as tall as Eric, probably standing about six feet, maybe six-one at the most. However, he’s got to weigh at least 420 pounds. Maybe 450. And he is one incredible pear-shape, at that! Beneath his clean-shaven Irish facial features, he has a relatively narrow chest, with big, round man-boobs protruding proudly, barely contained by one of many tight black T-shirts he wore. esenyurt escort His girth widening like a smooth bell going down to the waist, he has the most gorgeous big belly; not huge, but big enough to be absolutely snuggable. However, his most incredible feature was both below and behind the waist. Fat Bud is the kind of guy whom you could tell has a fat ass just by looking at him from the front. I sure could tell the first time I met him! His hips curve out at least half a foot on each side from the beltline, so it’s a pretty easy guess. However, when he turned around from me the first time, his ass was even bigger than I had imagined from the front! For I discovered that, not only does he possess a two-axehandle-wide ass, but it protrudes out from the back of his waist by at least a foot and a half. His waist slopes upwards along his sides until it just about reaches the middle of his back, so from the back Fat Bud looks like he’s all ass. It alone must weigh at least two hundred of his 420 or so pounds! Ever since I began working for him, I’ve imagined his measurements to be somewhere around 46 for the chest, 54 for the waist, and 68 for the ass. I bet I’m pretty close to the actual figures. Of course, I’ve imagined lots of other things far more graphic about Fat Bud. Well, it’s now the next morning, and I am up to go to work…in more ways than one. I roll over to Eric to give him his morning fuck, customarily followed by his morning blowjob, but he said, “Not now, honey—save it for tonight instead.” This struck me as kind of weird, because this has been our daily routine now for over a year. Before I could ask why, he smiled and said, “Trust me—tonight will be better.” I said, “Okay,” and left it at that, as I proceeded to the bathroom to perform the three “s”’s. In the car, I’m still thinking of the different positions in which Fat Bud and I could do it—if he doesn’t fire me first, of course. I get fired, no fuck; sorry, but that’s just the way it is, Mr. Fat Butt—er, I mean, Bud. I laugh as I go over the imaginary scenario in my mind when I nearly run the next light, and slam on the brakes, bringing my little Metro to a screeching halt before it could become part of the turning semi’s grill. Jeez, that was close. As I wait for the light to change, I look at the passenger seat next to me and begin to wonder what my fat boss’s fat ass would look like in it. Hell, even Eric’s never been in this car! Before the car behind me could honk me out of my daydream, I suddenly realize that the light and turned green. I step on it, looking forward to yet another day of look-but-don’t touch with my boss. After working on the remainder of yesterday’s crap for the first couple hours of the day, I begin to prepare myself for the first customer to walk in the door. All of a sudden, Fat Bud walks in. Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was just past nine o’clock. Wow, it’s early for him, isn’t it? He didn’t usually get in until nine-thirty or ten. “Hey-o!” went the familiar greeting. “Hey, Fat Bud!” I answered in kind. In case you think this sounds like a rude way to talk to my boss, please keep in mind that he actually INSISTS on being called “Fat Bud.” On my very first day there, I had just greeted him simply as “Bud” and in response, he looked at me like I was a complete retard, then said quietly as he patted his ample stomach, “Son, you see this belly?” He turned around and grabbed a handful of his enormous ass as I popped a major secret boner. “You see this ASS??? If this isn’t FAT, I don’t know what would be!” Turning back around to face me, he said even more quietly and seriously, “Son, my name is Fat Bud. It says that up on the sign that says “FAT BUD’S AUTO PARTS,” doesn’t it? Well, doesn’t it??” I nodded. “Then fucking CALL me by my name. None of this politically correct bullshit. Ya got it?” I nodded again, and that settled that question forever. So now I said with a smile, “You’re in kinda early, aren’t ya?” He smiled back. “I know. Now was there something that you wanted to tell me?” Oh yeah. There was. “Oh yeah. Would you like to come over our house for dinner tonight?” He smiled at me toyingly. “Well, that all depends on what you got for dessert,” he said while patting the side of his belly. “You got something good for this fat boy?” I suddenly had the strange feeling he wasn’t necessarily talking about food, and the thought made my rock-hard cock strain against my pants. Thank God I was behind the counter so he couldn’t see. “W-well,” I sort of stammered, “I’m not sure what Eric’s got in mind, but I’m sure it’d be good. He’s a really great cook and his desserts are wonderful,” I tried to say without a shred of irony. Fat Bud took a step forward, putting his belly up to the counter and his wide, jovial face within a foot of mine as my pants continued to feel awfully tight. His eyes looked down for a second and then back up into my eyes as he said with a smile, “Sure, Bob. I’m looking forward to it!” I smiled küçükçekmece escort back as the first customer parked in front of the store. “Great, now let me get to work.” We both laughed. “Okay, I’ll leave ya alone. I’ll be in the back for a while if ya need me for anything.” Boy, did I! It was all I could do to prevent myself from going back there and jumping him. I’ve had that feeling every single day I’ve worked here. But, there were workplace laws against that sort of thing, so I just remain a good boy, at least exteriorly. So many times I’ve wished that our bathroom, right next to Fat Bud’s office, was the public type where two people could be in it at the same time, with a stall and urinal. That way I’d be able to look underneath the stall or catch the reflection in the tile wall to see exactly how much Fat Bud’s ass dwarfed the bowl on which he often sat. As I heard the bathroom door shut closed, I sadly reminded myself that I’d just have to continue to settle for feeling how hot every inch of the toilet seat was after Fat Bud got done using it. I have a very perverted mind, I just keep it as much of a secret as possible! The morning dragged on as customers were served and my hard-on eventually died. Most of my customers, as usual, were guys who worked on their own cars. They tended to be messy-looking guys in their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s who apparently burned a lot of calories throughout the day, as few of them ever topped the 200-pound mark. An occasional chub patronized our shop, but the vast majority did absolutely nothing for me sexually. Not to mention the occasional female customer. Which was good, as it allowed me to keep my concentration on work throughout most of the day. Fat Bud distracts me enough when he’s here. At around noon, Fat Bud came out from his office, waited until the craggy old guy I was helping left with the air filter he wanted and told me he’d come back at around six to help me finish up with everything so that we could head back to my place as early as possible for dinner. I was very happy to hear that. Six o’clock was store closing time, and the only time Fat Bud had ever helped me with receipts and end-of-the-day paperwork he was so fast that it was all done in under an hour. As I began to once again admire his rear view as he was about to walk out the door, he suddenly stopped at the door, paused for a moment as if he was trying to remember something, then turned around. “Bob, I want to tell you something.” “What, Fat Bud?” I wondered what it was. He looked down at his fat feet for a moment and said, “Well, I suppose it’d be better if I tell you later.” Mystified by his sudden secrecy, I said with a chuckle, “O-kay. I’ll see you later!” He gave a little chuckle himself as his belly shook momentarily in rhythm. “Okay, Bob, see ya later,” he said, turning back to the door as his right asscheek gloriously lifted several inches upwards in response to his left foot being put forward in turn-step. After he left, I shook my head in bemusement as I wondered what I could expect to hear later. I just knew that I had nothing to worry about in terms of Fat Bud accepting me for the person I was. My earlier anxiety over that had been unfounded. It’s just that he never really addressed the issue with me, and in 3 months you don’t really know someone very well, especially one who talks about himself as infrequently as Fat Bud does. And, let’s face it, in this day & age you don’t really want to take chances with your job. Fat Bud kept his promise as he actually got back in fifteen minutes before store closing. We had everything done by 6:30 and, with a smile, put his jacket on and said he was ready to follow me to Bob’s Restaurant. Dinner was lemon chicken with rice, one of Eric’s best dishes and one that Fat Bud thoroughly enjoyed. During dinner he had Eric did most of the between-bite banter, and I listened intently as I learned a lot more about my boss. I had assumed that he had been a native-born Washingtonian. Actually, he grew up in West Palm Beach, Florida, but “a fat boy like me just can’t exist in that kind of weather for too long, so I moved all the way out here when I was 30!” I admired his ability to just pick up and move his life to a completely different part of the country and set up shop for himself. I also found out to my surprise that he was already 50 years old. And had never been married. “Wow,” I said as Eric and I began to clear the table. “Really?”“Yup. Just never met a woman I ever wanted to tie myself to.” My heart started beating quickly as my head began to get all sorts of ideas. I had to stop myself in mid-thought as Eric and I set up coffee and cake. “Mmmm, Devil’s Food…my favorite.” I just loved to see this big, jovial guy on whom I had such a crush enjoying himself at our home. He helped us clear off the table, and then asked Eric if he could ask him something. Eric looked at me, and I instantly got the message that they were going into the laundry beşiktaş escort room to speak in private. I nodded in understanding, went to the computer and began to write this story as they convened. As I wrote the first paragraph, I wondered what they were discussing for so long. I became so distracted that I couldn’t write beyond the third paragraph. Finally, after what must have been at least ten minutes, Eric came out alone to talk to me. I looked up questioningly. In a low voice, he said, “You know what’s about to happen, right?” I’ve always loved surprises but sometimes Eric can be maddeningly vague. “Um, no,” I said honestly, although I was beginning to suspect what it might be. At least, I was hoping for it.“Well, I’ve been speaking to your boss for the past couple of days. Remember when you were worried that he had reacted negatively to your being gay?”I nodded my head. “Well, I called and asked him about that. You know what he told me?”I shook my head. “He said that he had already suspected you were gay, but had no idea you were partnered until you pointed the ring out to him. He really didn’t notice it before. And it kind of bummed him out because he has had a major crush on you from the time he first met you.” I shook my head in utter amazement, my heartbeat going past the 100 b.p.m. mark. “Wait a sec…Fat Bud is GAY himself???? And HE has a crush on ME????” “Shhhh, not too loud…so, anyway, I told him we were partnered but that you had been a ‘good boy’ for a while and he could have you if he wanted.” “Really??” I felt my lips broadening greatly into a big smile. My big cock began to swell. “Yep I invited him to dinner at that time.” So that’s how Fat Bud seemed to know what I was going to ask him that morning! “I just didn’t want to tip you off about what was going on, so I had you do it when you got to work the next morning. And you will have him all to yourself tonight, baby. That is your present for being so good to me for the past couple of years.” I was overcome with emotion, anticipation and horniness. “Awww, THANK YOU, baby!” I gave Eric a big hug and kiss as I felt a little bit of precum leaking out of the tip of my dick. I normally don’t precum at all but I was so incredibly turned-on at that moment, I couldn’t help but leak a little. “So where are you going to be, baby?” “Oh, I’m going out to the bars for a while and be social. So, right now I’ll tell your boss that I told you everything, and then he is going to take a shower and get ready for you. And you two just have at it!” “Wow, thank you baby! I really can’t believe this is actually going to happen!” “You’re welcome, baby,” Eric said as he walked in the direction of the laundry room. Then he stopped, turned around and said, “Oh, just one other thing, you owe me the best blowjob of my life after I come home. Which won’t be for another three hours, at least.” Oh my God, three hours alone with Fat Bud! My mind raced as I attempted to think about all we could do in that time. Eric came back out into the living room with my boss walking right behind him. Eric put his jacket on as he said, “Okay, baby, see you later. Have fun!” Fat Bud gave me a knowing smile as Eric left, and we both began to laugh heartily. After catching my breath, I said in a somewhat exaggerated professional tone, “Okay, where are the towels,” as if I was at the shop looking for Prestone De-Icer or something. I clumsily made my way to the linen closet and produced a big thick bath towel for him. He then grabbed me close to his belly and said, “Bob, what I wanted to tell you earlier was that you’ve been the best employee I’ve ever had in all my twenty years operating here in Washington. Besides that, you are fucking cute as hell, and I love you!” He gave me a big kiss right on the lips. His big thick lips felt so warm on mine.“I just had, had no idea you were gay.” “Well, I don’t ever advertise it, especially not at work. Ya gotta be very careful around people you work with, even if you suspect they might be gay, too. And even if you DO suspect someone’s gay, you could still be wrong. And a lawsuit over being wrong that way could end my business, y’understand.” I nodded in complete understanding. “But now that we both know about each other, things will be a lot more open now between us. You can count on that. Alright,” he said as he began to squeeze his big belly past me, “Let me get this ultra-fat ass of mine into that shower and ready for you. Just wait on your bed for me, alright?” I nodded quickly as my heart was going like a Daytona 500 car engine. I had never been with a superchub the size of Fat Bud before. Ever. Not only that, but a pear-shaped superchub, my ultimate fantasy! I had met several guys like that before, but they always wanted the typical young, smooth, skinny chasers with the swimmers’ bodies, not my slightly chunky, hairy bear body. Life was so fucking unfair. Until now. I couldn’t believe that, not only was I about to finally see Fat Bud’s massive ass naked, but I was going to fuck it, too! As I lay naked on my side of the king-sized bed, I thought I was going to shoot a load out of my rock-hard cock in anticipation. After about ten agonizing minutes, I heard the glorious sound of the shower faucet being shut off, followed two minutes later by the even more glorious sound of the bathroom door opening. Fat Bud walked in(To be continued)
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