This was the day I had been waiting for – our first football practice of the new season. It was hot and very humid, perfect weather for wearing as little as possible. I wanted everyone to see how much muscle I had gained this off-season. The coaches said that I needed to fill out in order to see some playing time, that 215 pounds on my 6’4” frame was too little for a tight end in this conference. And, damn, did I “fill out”!
Now I carried 255 pounds on my thick frame, a whopping 40-pound gain just since the end of last season. For our first few practices each year, we always wore just shorts and t-shirts, without our pads, so I carefully selected workout clothes that would highlight my new muscle. The gray shorts were very tight, with my huge quads stretching the material to its limit. I specifically picked a cut-off shirt so that my well-developed abdominal muscles were on display. The tremendous over-eating I had to do and the resulting significant muscle gain had greatly thickened my once slim midsection. My stomach was rounded, so with a tight t-shirt on, I looked like I had acquired a beer belly. But the half-shirt made the abdominal definition noticeable, which indicated that the significant growth in the waist was almost all muscle.
I strutted up to the edge of the practice field where a number of teammates had gathered. Included in the group were the two that I knew the best. Both were back-ups, like myself, that were trying to work their way into the starting line-up. Ryan was a quarterback, tall and slim, and Zach was a linebacker, muscular, but short.
“Hey dudes,” I asked innocently, “How was your off season?” The jaws dropped of every man in the group. “HOLY SHIT,” Ryan spoke first, “You’re fuckin’ swole, man; how much muscle have you put on?”
“Check it out, guys; 40 pounds of pure muscle!” I responded, while quickly moving into a classic double-biceps flex pose.
“Dammmnnn,” Zack stated, “You look like the Incredible Hulk!”
“I didn’t know the Incredible Hulk had a gut,” Ryan noted with a grin as he pointed to my rounded mid-section. “What’s up with that?”
“Shit, it’s all muscle,” I said and rubbed the somewhat protruding stomach. “Just a side effect of getting so thick!”
The focus shifted back to my incredible muscle gain. The players were amazed at my body’s transformation. The coaches didn’t say anything to me directly yet, but I knew they were impressed. We began the afternoon’s practice with some basic stretching and conditioning drills.
Our group concluded the first round of drills. We were already drenched in sweat on this sticky late summer day. I walked over to the sideline and noted the small thin young man standing next to the coolers. The team’s newest water boy looked like the typical college nerd. His clothes were loose on his bony frame and the big black glasses were nearly the size of his entire head.
After only a few cups of water the largest cooler was empty. “Hey Poindexter,” I called to the water boy, using the stereotypical nickname for a geek, “Where’s the rest of the damn water?” I flexed my right bicep. “When you’re as big as me, you need a helluva lot of water!”
“Uhhh, sorry, I didn’t get to fill it up all the way,” he stammered. “But there’s more here.” The skinny boy pointed at another container.
I nearly knocked over the water boy when I stepped towards the second cooler. “Okay, but next time little man, just make sure you always got enough water for me. I need a ton to keep these muscles big and growing.”
The chilled liquid was very refreshing as I drank some and poured the rest over my sweaty body. I purposely bumped into the frail water boy on my way back to the field just to let him know who was in control around here.
After a few more drills with the coaches barking instructions, the practice came to a end. “Ya wanna go out to eat later?” Zack asked. “Sure,” I replied, never one to turn down a dinner invitation. “Meet at your place at 7.”
We had gathered at Zack’s apartment and then rode over to the restaurant in his old Ford Explorer. As I strutted towards the entrance, I checked out my reflection in the adjacent store’s front window. A gray t-shirt was stretched across my huge torso, following ever bulge and curve. It was tucked into my tight jeans, which would have stayed in place even without the thick brown belt. And as usual, my old boots were visible at the bottom of the jeans.
“Stop staring at yourself, you vain fucker,” Ryan said with a grin, “Don’t worry dude, you’re still freaky thick!”
“Oh, I know,” I replied with a sly smile, “Just making sure that some of this huge muscle hasn’t busted out somewhere!”
The three of us entered the restaurant and selected a table in the middle of the large room. The featured special was ‘all-you-can-eat’ pizza; just “help yourself” from the many selections were the instructions. I ordered a couple pitchers of beer, and then walked over to the row of pizzas, neatly aligned in a ten-foot long single line. I stacked a half dozen slices on my large plate and took them back to the table.
Zach, Ryan and I ate and drank like we were starving. Not only did the sight of three big guys draw gazes from the other patrons, but also the sounds of our eating surely got their attention. The other two football players slowed down after the first forty-five minutes, but I kept going full steam. A path was seemingly wearing into the carpet under my frequent trips to the buffet tables.
I finally paused to catch my breath, and then stood up for another trip. ‘Shit, dude, you’re STILL not done?” Ryan asked. “Check out your gut, dude; you’re all blown up!” I looked down and was surprised by the sight. My stomach was significantly more rounded out, now completely blocking the view of my boots. I definitely felt full, but did not feel as much pressure as it looked like I should. I placed a hand on the stuffed half-sphere and grinned. “Nah, this thing ain’t filled up yet. Ya know, ya gotta eat big to get big!”
With that, I left for the tables covered with pizzas. Several more trips and a number of pizza slices later, I leaned back in my chair and groaned. “Now, I think I am starting to get full!” Now my belly protruded even further and my tight t-shirt emphasized the now big ball sitting in my lap. The other two young men were fascinated by my eating display and the size of my stomach.
“Man, you’re swollen up fuckin’ huge,” Zach stated, then reached out to poke the pizza bloated gut. “That thing’s about to pop!”
“I think I can hold a little more,” I replied, “But I’m having trouble getting’ up!”
Ryan grinned and gave the top of my bulging belly a gentle tap. “Yeah, I can see why. Let me get you some more!”
Ryan left the table and soon came back with more pizza. The slices of the tasty pasta dish disappeared into my growing stomach. Both young men continued this routine of gathering slices from the buffet table and bringing them back to the table where I would subsequently cramed into my swelling stomach and then look for more.
After about two and half hours of eating, I leaned back in my chair and burped. “I’m… stuffed,” was all I could say. “No… more… for… me… tonight…”
I rubbed the sides of the very round sphere in front of me. It appeared that I had an over-inflated basketball stretching out my gray t-shirt, the sphere nestled perfectly between my huge pecs and lap.
“Man, I ain’t never seen no-one eat like that,” Zach said as he examined my hugely swollen belly. “You look like you’re about to pop!”
“Yeah, I don’t see how a belly can hold so much,” Ryan stated while also staring at the big gray ball. “It just kept growing and growing; look how far it sticks out!”
I rested one hand on top of my newly extended belly shelf. “Yeah, in order to gain all this muscle, I’ve been eatin’ like a motherfuck the past six months… musta really stretched out my stomach.” I patted the top and then the sides of the pizza filled balloon. “But I think… I overdid it… this time. I need to… go lie down.”
The two football players helped me out of my seat but struggled somewhat with my increased bulk. “Damn, dude,” Zach exclaimed, “You must weight 300 pounds!” They helped me stagger out of the restaurant. As we were passing through the door, two older men were entering. “Check out the gut on that guy,” one said to the other, referring to my over-sized stomach. “Damn, son, that thing’s about to explode. Is there any pizza left?” the other asked. My two friends grinned and Ryan replied, “No pizza left man, it’s all in here,” he answered, and then gently patted my very full gut. “We’re just trying to get him outta here before he bursts.”
The three of made it back to Zach’s apartment and I could not wait to lie down on the sofa. I stretched out on the large (fortunately for me) piece of furniture and undid my belt and top two jeans buttons. “OOOOHHHH… AAAHHHH.,” were the sounds I uttered as the pressure was relieved somewhat and I could begin the long process of digesting the ridiculously huge meal.
“That amazing,” Ryan commented while staring at my bloated prone body. “I’d swear there was a big ball under that shirt. It don’t even look real.”
“Well, let’s see if it is,” responded Zach as he reached from behind the sofa and pulled my t-shirt up to my pecs.
Both young men had shocked and amused expressions at the revealing of my big belly. “You look about eight months pregnant,” Zach noted. “Or like someone blew up your belly with helium or something.” I slowly raised my head and glanced that the tan sphere sticking up into the air and completely blocking the view of my boots. “Yeah, that’s it,” Ryan agreed, “You look like you’ve been inflated like a balloon.”
“Hey, remember that scene at the end of ‘Junior’ where Arnold is lying on the bed and that woman pulls back the covers and you see his bare, huge pregnant belly?” Zach asked, referring to the movie. “You look just like that, except your belly is bigger!”
The two thought this was a funny image and both laughed hard. I just lowered my head, moaned and rubbed my giant gut, hoping the painful pressure would begin to diminish.
Practice over the last couple of days had gone well. During a one-on-one drill, I had been able to use my new strength to run over a would-be tackler after I made a great catch. The coaches noted this improved ability and I knew that I’d be a starter soon. It was another hot day and I again was wearing a half shirt to keep cooler and to show off my cut abs. My belly was still somewhat distended from the eating performance I had put on at the pizza place two nights ago, but the definition in my abs had returned.
As practice ended, I walked over to the jugs of water resting on a narrow table. The container I reached for was turned backwards so the spigot was on the other side. I had begun to harass the water boy for his obvious incompetence when I noticed a chemistry textbook at the end of the table.
“Hey, Brainiac, can’t you figure out how to set up the water?” I exclaimed, making fun of the fact that he appeared to be in an advanced chemistry class, but had the water jugs facing the wrong way. “I told you, you little piss-ant, I need lots of water.” Pointing to my huge chest I continued, “Gotta feed this lots of protein and water so it’ll keep getting bigger.”
I walked by the small boy to get some water. While passing I reached out and grabbed his thin arm. “Hey, nice pipe cleaners,” I commented on his small biceps. “Is that it? You couldn’t lift up the water jug? Too bad you’re not big like me!” With a hearty laugh I took a cup of water and left the young skinny boy standing there.
The other football players and I walked into the locker room. Some stopped to change, but most continued on to the dining hall. “Hell, I’m starvin’,” I nodded towards some of the guys that were getting undressed. “I’m gonna eat first; I don’t care if I’m a little sweaty.”
Of course we were all extremely sweaty and dirty and tired, but I just wanted to get some food into my growling stomach. It did take a lot of calories just for me to maintain my new weight and I was now accustomed to eating large meals.
Our athletic department spared no expense in the food for the football team. A fully loaded buffet was always waiting after practice. A very large selection of meats, breads, vegetables, fruits and deserts were laid out on several long tables. Everything was freshly prepared and the hot foods were steaming and the cold foods were chilled.
Zach, Ryan and I each took a tray loaded with food to a table in the corner. We were joined by Johnny, one of the team’s huge offensive linemen. The chair groaned when the big man plopped down his massive 6’6’’, 350-pound body. Johnny’s tray was pilled the highest, including a steak at the bottom, then three fried chicken strips and another steak on top.
“Hey, I’ve never seen a fried chicken sandwich made with steaks instead of bread,” Ryan noted, looking at the stack of food in front of Johnny. The big man picked up the stack and replied, “That’s because most people ain’t clever like me!” He then took a giant bite out of the tall “sandwich”.
The four of us each made several trips through the buffet line, but both Ryan and Zach stopped after their third visit. But Johnny and I went back again. I placed another plate piled high with food down in front of me and Johnny did the same.
“Hey, looks like Jason’s keepin’ up with you Johnny,” Zach noted how much I had already put away, “You’re not gonna let him out eatcha, are you?”
Johnny grinned in between bites of macaroni and cheese. “Hell, I weigh 100 pounds more than Jason; no way he can eat as much as me!” the big man replied.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ryan stated. “We’ve seen Jason eat and it’s pretty fuckin’ amazin’.”
So now I found myself in an eating contest with a 350-pound mountain of a man. Johnny and I continued to make trips to the buffet tables. After two more trips, I was walking slowly back to the table.
“Hey, check out Jason’s gut,” Zach stated and pointed towards me. “He’s blowin’ up again!” I stood next to my chair and looked down. Zach was right; my bare stomach was very noticeable in the cut-off t-shirt, rounded and protruding well out over my shorts. I placed my hand on top of the bulging belly and responded, “Yeah, I’m gonna get full pretty soon.”
Soon it became difficult to move for both Johnny and myself, so Zach and Ryan began bringing plates of food to us. We continued to eat like we were both starving. The amount of food ingested by the two of us was staggering and varied. The two football players brought out every delicious high calorie food they could get.
I was leaning back in my chair to catch my breath when Zach set a plate full of mashed potatoes, roast beef and rolls down on the table. He gently patted the top of my now huge belly ball. “Shit, it looks like you’ve swallowed a small beach ball,” he noted and continued to touch the belly shelf, “I swear you’re even bigger than you were the other night.” Zach turned to the rest of the room. “Hey guys come check this out. Jason’s 9 months pregnant!”
Most of the other athletes had already finished their meal and had left but a few remained. A couple of them came over to our table to view the sight. “Ohmigod, Jason’s blown up like a giant balloon,” one noted, “He’s gonna pop at any second!” Another stepped over to me and poked the side of the blimped up belly. “I ain’t never seen a belly like that on a guy. You sure you ain’t about to give birth to somethin’?”
I was so stuffed that I could hardly speak but I also could tell that Johnny was completely full too. He was eating very slowly, and we both took a long time to finish our plates. I was in a daze at this point but could make out two large, homemade pies now on the table in front of me. Even though the pressure was tremendous, I enjoyed the taste of the sweet pastries and managed to somehow get down bite after bite. I could hear the comments of the guys around me; “Get back, he’s gonna explode!” and “Look like he’s swallowed a barrel!” but I continued to eat. I was going to keep up with Johnny even if I did almost pop while doing so.
When I hit the bare aluminum at the bottom of the second pie pan, I stopped eating. I slowly looked up and was stunned by the sight of my competitor, passed out onto the table with a full pie remaining. I had eaten more than Johnny!
As I leaned back in my chair, I got a better view of my gigantic stomach. It looked like a tan beach ball was resting in my lap. It had to stick out well more than a foot in front of my pecs.
“Awesome, dude, you ate more than Johnny!” Ryan exclaimed with a grin. “Congratulations,” he said while patting the top of the incredibly swollen stomach.
“Look at the size of that thing,” Zach commanded. The young football player poked my belly, first at the top then around the bowed out sides. “Dude, are you about to give birth to a baby elephant?” he asked.
My breathing was shallow and I could do nothing but moan. I rubbed the sides of the gruesomely overstuffed sphere in a vain attempt to reduce the pressure. “Help… get…. me… outa… here…” I stammered, still in severe discomfort. Ryan took my muscular left arm and Zach grabbed my right and they both began to lift. Fortunately my thick legs were very strong and we were able to hoist my obscenely bloated body out of the chair and into a standing a position. I had to lean back to support the extra weight now protruding from the front of my build.
The two athletes slowly led me out of the cafeteria. I could only see out of the corner of my eye that a couple of other football players well helping poor Johnny as well.
I had my right arm wrapped around Zach’s shoulders and Ryan was supporting my left side, as I slowly staggered down the hall, “I can’t believe you out-ate Big Johnny,” Ryan exclaimed. “But dude, your belly is freaky huge!” I was looking down at the oversized gut when I heard a shout.
“Dammit, son, what the hell happened to you?”
I looked up and saw one of the coaches approaching. His eyes were wide open and he had a look of amazement and disbelief on his face. The sight of my hugely bloated muscular body supported by the other two football players must have been a shock. The coach reached out and gave my giant exposed belly a slap.
“What’s in that fucker? A damn swiss ball? You ‘bout to give birth to a five year old?”
Zach smiled. “Nah, he ain’t pregnant coach. He just ate too much at the training table. You should have seen him put it away.”
“Oh, I can see it right now,” the coach commented, giving my bloated gut another hard poke. “It’s right here sticking out like a keg!”
“Bbbbrrruuupp… I’m just… eatin… a lot… to get big… you know… keep addin’ muscle,” I was finally able to stammer.
“Well, you have done a great job in puttin’ on muscle this year,” he acknowledged, “But hell, be careful. You look like you’re about to burst! You better be deflated back down to normal by game time.”
The coach continued down the hall and left both Zach and Ryan with big grins on their faces. The two football studs led me outside to a covered area adjacent to the gym. Ryan turned to us, placed his hand on top of my gut and said, “Hey, I gotta run. Zach, you think you can get our blimp here home ok?” Zach continued to smile. “Yeah, sure, I might have to roll him most of the way though!” Both men got a good laugh and Ryan left, but not before one last pat of my huge belly. Zach then suggested he go get his truck and come pick me up. I did not want to carry this heavy gut any further than necessary so I agreed.
The young man left and I leaned back against the concrete block wall. I looked down at the amazing belly protruding from my muscular body. It stuck out so far and was so round, it was hard to believe it was real.
I was mesmerized by the shape and sheer size of my gut and couldn’t stop from looking at it and gently touching it. Suddenly, I had an odd sensation that someone was watching me. I turned my head to the left and saw the thin figure standing there. It was the waterboy! He was staring wide-eyed at my huge belly.
“Hey, take a picture, it’ll last longer!” I cleverly suggested. The water boy took several steps closer, still with an astonished look on his face.
“Is that really your belly?” he asked in a soft tone. “It’s so huge! Like there’s something big inside of you!”
I patted the top of the sphere. “Yeah…, it’s real. Just… eat big… to get big. It’ll… turn to muscle… in the weight room!”
“But you’re belly is so fat,” he wondered, “how will that turn to muscle?”
“It ain’t fat,” I explained. “I’m just so fuckin’ full. Feel it. It’s very firm!”
The skinny young man tentatively reached out his bony finger and stuck it into the side of my ballooned up belly. “See?” I asked.
“Ohmigod, yeah. It’s hard and tight. Like you’ve been inflated or something. Did someone pump you up with air?”
“Shit, it ain’t air. I told you… I just ate a ton. I’m packed tight with food, but once I workout, I’ll turn all the extra calories into more muscle.” I gestured towards his skinny arms. “Maybe you should try eating some more and getting into the weight room. Then you wouldn’t be a fuckin’ stick!”
He continued to poke my belly. I grabbed his very small wrist and pushed his arm back. “Hey, that’s enough. It’s not a toy!”
For the first time, he grinned slightly. “It looks like a big toy balloon!”
“Yeah, well, this belly is only temporary, and I’d rather be a huge muscle stud than a little stick!” I took a step towards the skinny boy with a threatening look on my face. “Ya got that stick boy, ya puny little puke!”
The water boy ran away, but not before his face lit-up with a big grin. Zach finally pulled up in his quad cab pick-up and I staggered towards the big vehicle. “That was weird as shit,” I said to myself, “That damn little Poindexter was all into my big belly. What was he thinking?”
I ran down the covered walkway that led to the team’s locker room. “Shit,” I thought as the clock over the double metal doors came into focus, “Look how late it is! The game’s already started!” I threw open the door and made my way into the changing area as quickly as possible. My mind was racing as I frantically undressed. “How could I get fucked over on today of all days?” I continued to think in my head. “My alarm doesn’t go off and then my truck breaks down… and my truck has NEVER broken down… I still don’t see how it just stopped runnin’…” I was out of my street clothes and started putting on my uniform. “My first chance to impress the coaches and they’re gonna be pissed! Now there’s no way I’ll play today!”
I reached into the locker and pulled out the white jersey with the big number “58” on the back, centered below my last name “BERG”. After putting on my cleats and tying up my pants, I was finally ready to go. Before leaving the locker room though I had to check my look. The white jersey and silver pants looked great together and the tight fit made my huge biceps and quads look even bigger. As I bent over to do a last check of my shoes, I felt a presence; I turned to see the water boy standing right next to me. “What the hell…” I started to say, but was interrupted when a white towel was shoved into my face. Then everything went black…
When I woke up, I was still in the locker room, but lying on a large table flat on my back. The brightness of the overhead florescent lights took a few moments to adjust to. I tried to reach up to my face to rub my eyes, but my arm was somehow secured to the table. Actually, both arms and legs were strapped down and could only be moved a couple of inches.
Now that my head was getting clear, I noticed something else unusual. A large hose was sticking out of my mouth, then fell away somewhere off to my left. It seemed though that I could feel the hose down my throat and all the way into my stomach. And the stomach… it was sore, like it was after one of my more famous food binges. I raised my head to check it out.
My eyes widened at the sight before me. Where my only slightly bulging belly had been, was now a huge round mound of white. The jersey was stretched to its limit, sticking out a good ten inches up in the air. It appeared that a giant bowl had been placed upside down under my jersey.
“So, you’re waking up, huh?” a familiar voice came from behind. “You had enough water yet?” It hit me an instant before the speaker came into view: it was the water boy! The young man gently poked my hugely bloated belly with one of his bony fingers. “You’re lookin’ pretty full there big guy, but I think you can hold some more.”
With that, he disappeared from view. I heard a squeak and then a hissing sound before I felt pressure again in my throat. It only took a moment to realize that the boy was inflating my belly with water!
I raised my head to witness the white bulge slowly swell upwards. The thin man had stepped back next to my huge and now growing body. “Yeah, you need a lot of water to get big,” he stated, mimicking what I had said on the field. “And you are getting BIG!” He began to pat my rounded stomach after his last comment.
I tried to speak but the large hose in my mouth muffled all the words. The pressure continued to increase as my stomach grew and grew. “I’m gonna burst!” I tried to shout, but only unintelligible grunts came out.
“What’s that you say?” the smirking young boy asked, “You’re still thirsty? Well, ok, but I don’t know if you should drink much more.”
I could only watch in horror as my oversized belly swelled out in all directions. But just when I thought for sure I would burst, the water stopped flowing. The water boy pulled the hose out of my mouth and smiled, “Did I give you enough water this time?”
“You… fuckin… bastard…,” I stammered out, the extra pressure taking away my breath, “ I… almost.. exploded…you’re fuckin… crazy!”
He grinned, and gave the side of my belly a sharp poke, which made me belch. “Heh, heh, heh, you’re a very big boy now, Jason, and you were right… it does take a lot of water. Did you get enough?” He laughed.
The water boy still had a huge grin on his face as he walked towards the door that led to the football field. “Have a good game!” he said, and left the room.
“Oooooo..” I said out loud. “That fucker just left me tied up here like a fat whale. Wait’ll I see him next.”
I tried to lift my muscular arm, and to my surprise, I could move it. “He must have undone the straps,” I thought to myself. First my other arm, then both my legs were moved, so I knew I was completely free. “Now to find that asshole!”
But it was not easy to get up with a big belly pumped beyond full of who knows how many gallons of water. Fortunately, my upper body strength was enough to hoist myself up into a seated position on the side of the large table. A gurgling sound was noticeable as I moved, but was not as loud as expected. I poked the side of my ball belly, and it gave only a little. Since my stomach looked like and actually was a big water balloon, I expected it to bow in when I pressed with my finger, but it was more firm than that. “Must be all that muscle,” I thought to myself.
I stepped off the table and began to walk towards the door. “OOOOFFFF,” I said, the full weight of my newly huge belly now more noticeable. “I wonder how much I weigh?” The overeating sessions during the past week had already sent my weight up to near 265; how much heavier am I now with this giant gut?
I grabbed my helmet on the way to the door, and happened to catch a glance of my reflection in the mirror.
“HOLY SHIT!” I yelled. My gut was so protruding that I could place my hand palm down, flat on my belly shelf with room to spare. I gently patted the big ball around the sides and could barely reach the front. “When I find that little prick, I’m gonna fuckin’ break him in two!” I said out loud as I walked through the door.
My cleats were loud on the cement floor of the long, wide hall that led to the playing field. I could hear the crowd noise, but could not see the action itself. The weight of my belly was noticeable and I had to lean back somewhat to maintain my balance. As I approached the opening to the football field, a familiar face came into view.
Nick was one of the male cheerleaders but was as muscular as most of the actual players. I joked with him about his lack of football skills that left him on the sidelines and not in the game. His huge biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt and the tight pants were stretched over his well-developed quads. His eyes widened when he recognized me.
“Damn, dude, what happened to you?” he pointed towards my swollen belly. “You gotta cut back on the beer man; your gut’s all blown up like a balloon!” He stepped up to my side and began to sharply poke my protruding stomach. “Jason, what’s under your jersey, a pony keg?” he asked, and then pushed in on the front of the belly ball. “How much beer you got in that thing’?”
My first instinct was to tell the story of how the water boy inflated my belly. But I certainly did not want to admit that I was somehow overpowered by that skinny wuss and he got the best of me. I’d wait until I figured out exactly how he did it.
“It ain’t beer,” I explained, with a hand on top of my gut, “I just ate a little too much at the training table.”
“HAAA HAAA,” Nick laughed and then began to walk away. “C’mon over to the frat house later; I’ll stick a spigot in your belly and we can tap that keg of yours. Don’t drink no more in the meantime or you’ll explode!”
As the smiling cheerleader went down the hall, I looked down at my huge belly again. “A cheerleader? Making fun of me?” I thought to myself, “I gotta find that little shit and kick his bony ass!”
With my helmet still in hand, I walked down the open hallway and out on to the edge of the grass. The game was underway and I looked up towards the big scoreboard over the end zone stands. “Second quarter!” I said to myself, “How long did that little prick keep me in the locker room inflating me up? I’m missing a huge chunk of the game.
As I continued towards the first bench for the players to sit on, I craned my neck for a view of the water boy. Several large containers of water and stacks of paper cups were visible in their normal location, on a long table located in between several rows of metal benches. A couple of high school boys were standing next to the coolers and handing out cups full of water when needed. Normally, these two guys assisted the water boy during games, but the skinny boy that had blown up my belly was nowhere in sight. I closely studied each of the men standing between the sideline and the benches, but could only see players and coaches.
“DAMN, dude, what happened to your gut?” I was so absorbed in locating the water boy that I had not noticed Zach walk up to me. “Is that a basketball under your jersey?” the young man asked. Before I could respond Zach turned and motioned towards Ryan, standing only a few feet away. “Come check this out. Jason’s blown up again!”
I watched Zach reach out and began to poke the big belly ball. “You been eatin’ all mornin’,” the young athlete said with a grin. “I can’t believe you’d overeat so much right before the game!”
“I…uh… just got… into a beer drinkin’ contest with a guy from the Fiji’s,” I made up a lie so I would not have to admit that I could not stop the weak water boy from pumping me up. The Fiji’s were a fraternity that we hated so I knew that Zach and Ryan would understand that I could not back down from a challenge by one of them. And since I would piss away most of this water bloat soon, it would seem logical that it was just beer.
Ryan also had a big grin on his face. “Yeah?” he asked, seemingly unsure whether to believe me or not. “Well, looks like you won easily!” he noted, then gave my stomach a hard punch.
“Whoa…, take it easy man,” I requested, “This puppy’s pretty full.” I placed my hand on top of the white ball and moaned slightly. That punch had really upset my stomach. “I need to sit down.”
I slowly walked over to the end of the first bench, keeping an eye out for the water boy as well as the coaches. I did not want any of the coaches to see me with my belly blown up, especially the head coach that saw me the other day.
Leaning back against the metal bench, I placed my hand on top of my spherical gut and rubbed gently. Zach and Ryan sat down on either side and carefully poked my belly from the opposite sides.
“You almost got the biggest belly here,” Zach said, “Only a couple of the o-lineman have a bigger belly than you!”
“But none of ‘em have a gut that’s so round and stick’s out like yours,” Ryan noted. “You’ve got that pregnant look again! When are you due – next week?”
Then it hit me. I had the strongest sensation of needing to empty my bladder that I ever had. “Boys, make way, I gotta go drain this thing!”
I tried to stand, but had some trouble. Both football players laughed while watching me struggle to get up. I did finally stand and start to walk briskly towards the same walkway I came in to the stadium through.
It was not easy to move very fast carrying the extra belly weight but I made it into the locker room quickly. I was unfastening my pants even as I was entering the bathroom section of the locker room. I had barely reached the urinal when the river of piss exploded outward. Whether all of the urine was going into the proper place I could not see, as the huge belly blocked my view. I could only tell by the sound that I was hitting the target.
Minutes passed and the piss continued to flow like a spring flood on the Mississippi River. I licked my lips realizing how dry they were. Could it be that I was actually thirsty after being pumped so full? “Maybe this extreme pissing is dehydrating me a little,” I thought to myself. My belly was noticeably smaller, though still bulging as the stream slowed down. Now I really needed a drink but still wasn’t finished.
“SHIT, man, you’ve been there for like 10 minutes! How much water you got in ya?” I did not recognize the voice that came from behind.
“Dude, I just drank way too much and now I’m getting rid of it. Kinda thirsty now though.”
“You want some water?” the male voice asked.
“Uh, ok, sure. That would be great.”
The sound of water running was followed by footsteps on the hard tile floor. A small hand placed a large paper cup on top of the urinal. I grabbed it and gulped down the entire contents in seconds.
“Thanks, man, that hit the spot!” I stated. I think I’m finally finishing up here.
The last few drops came out and I shook my dick and started to fasten my pants. My belly was still rounded out but was not that big anymore. I turned to finish securing the laces.
The male figure standing in front the sink was instantly recognizable. It was the water boy! He had a big grin on his face and was looking at my stomach.
“YOU LITTLE SHIT; NOW I’M GONNA KICK SOME ASS!” I yelled at the small man.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said as his grin turned more sinister. “Did you enjoy your drink?”
“WHAT? Did you…” I started to say but the room began to spin. “YOU FUCKER, I’M GONNA…” before I could finish the room went black again...
The young male standing in front of the sink was instantly recognizable. THE WATER BOY He had a big grin on his face and was staring at my diminishing, but still unusually swollen stomach.
“YOU LITTLE SHIT; NOW I’M GONNA KICK YOUR FUCKIN’ ASS ” I yelled at the thin man.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said as his grin turned more sinister. “Did you enjoy your drink?”
“WHAT? Did you…” I started to say but the room began to spin. “YOU BASTARD, I’M GONNA…” before I could finish the room again went black...
BLINK. BLINK. I was staring directly at a plain fluorescent light. A vague sense of deja-vu was coming over me as I tried to focus on my surroundings. The cheap ceiling tiles and bare concrete block walls indicated that I was in some part of the locker room. Then the memories came flooding back: the blacking out, the hugely bloated belly and the water boy.
I was lying on my back on a large table and again my arms and legs were secured in place. A large hose was in my mouth and seemed to fill my throat all the way down into my stomach. And the stomach;. Again a sensation of incredible fullness, actually painful bloating, was becoming very noticeable. I raised my head, dreading the sight before me.
My eyes bulged out when I saw the enormous sphere that my belly had become. I realized that I was still in my football uniform, pads and all. The only change was that my top was not the standard full-length jersey, but the half-shirt I wore to practice to show of my well-developed abs. The shorter garment completely covered my pads, but stopped just below the bottom of my huge chest. From that point, my belly soared skyward, as if a large beach ball had been inflated inside. The overly stretched skin was somewhat shiny and a shade lighter than the rest of my deeply tan body. I could not believe the sheer size of the humongous gut. How big around was it? How much did I weigh? How can this even be possible? These thoughts rolled around inside my head.
I heard the familiar but now somewhat unsettling voice of the water boy.
“So, big guy, did you get enough water this time?” He had a sneer on his face as he stepped up to my belly ball and began tapping it. “You know, with all the muscle that you have, you need a lot of water. You think you’re big enough now?” He laughed as he gave the gigantic sphere a hard poke.
I tired to speak with the hose in my mouth but only indecipherable gibberish came out. “Here, I have something that will make you feel better,” the water boy stated as he approached my head. The skinny boy removed the hose from my mouth and produced a hand full of what looked like large marbles or jawbreakers.
“YOU… FUCKER…,” I could barely speak the bloating was so intense. “WHAT’S… WRONG… WITH… YOU…?” I asked.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you enough water before,” he responded, referring to our times on the practice field. “You bragged about how you really blew up over the summer. I’m just trying to help you blow up some more What do you think?”
“YOU… LITTLE… PRICK…I’M… GONNA… BURST…”
“If you swallow these,” he instructed, “You’ll definitely feel better.”
“But… these… are horse pills…” I commented on the size.
“Yeah, and you look like a pregnant horse ” the thin boy said with a grin. I opened my mouth and he placed each of the large pills on my tongue, one at a time, and I did swallow each.
Once all six pills were down, I asked what they would do. “Well, there’s a muscle relaxer so your stomach won’t feel so bloated,” he noted and stepped over towards the inflated sphere. The water boy gave it a tap. “I’ll bet you feel a little full ” he said with a big grin. I just moaned in response.
“Also, the pills are a hyper concentrate of sodium and fiber; you know what that’ll do?” he asked.
I thought for a minute. When bodybuilders are getting ready for a competition they avoid both these substances, because they don’t want to be bloated. “BLOATED? HOLY SHIT ” I thought.
Before I could respond, the water boy noticed the look of concern on my face and his grin turned into a sneer.
“There is so much sodium and fiber in those ‘little’ pills, all that water in your great big stomach will become more solid and firm. You won’t be pissing away the water this time. You’re gonna stay nice and full for a while ”
I stared at the huge belly mound and couldn’t believe what I was hearing. An odd feeling began to spread through the hugely inflated water balloon that my gut had become. I reached around with both hands and began to feel the sides of my giant stomach.
“It’s startin’ to work already, isn’t it?” the young man asked, “I’ll bet you feel fuller ”
My fingers tried to very gently poke the incredible sphere. “My… gut…, it’s… so… huge…, but it… feels… so tight…” I stammered.
CLICK CLICK I heard this sound several more times as the water boy walked around the table. “You’re free now, let’s see if you can get up,” he stated, still with the big grin on his face.
Given the size and weight of my stomach, I knew this would be a challenge. I placed my hands on the sides of the table and pushed down hard. The upper portion of my inflated body began to rise off the table but I could not get completely up into a sitting position. Then an idea came into my head. I managed to swing my body around so that my legs were now hanging off the edge of the large table. Combining the weight of my very muscular legs with a little momentum of swinging them, forced my torso into an upright position. I was now sitting on the edge of the table, legs almost touching the floor, with the giant water filled ball resting in my lap. The shelf created by the size of my belly resting on my overdeveloped quads was amazing and seemed to extend out to the horizon. Then my focus quickly turned to the amused water boy.
“I… am going… to fuckin’ kick… that… bony ass of yours… into next week ” I yelled, and then pushed myself off the table. I attempted to reach a normal standing position. However, the new weight distribution caused by my ridiculously protruding belly had caused me to lean towards the front, almost triggering a fall forward onto the enormous sphere. I gained my balance; and by leaning back, was able to take a more or less normal step forward.
“HAHAHA ” the skinny boy laughed. “The only think kicking around here is the litter of babies in your giant pregnant stomach. You can hardly walk much less do any ass kicking ”
Another two steps confirmed his opinion. It took most of my concentration just to maintain my balance; I was not going to beat up any nerds today.
“Check yourself out,” the water boy suggested, and then gestured towards the wall on my right. “You sure are big now ”
My eyes bulged when I saw the reflection in the large mirror mounted on the concrete block wall. “What…the… fuck?” I could not believe what I was seeing.
My stomach was a perfect large sphere, sticking straight out into the air as if suspended by hidden wires. It actually appeared as though I had swallowed an exercise ball, though it felt more like one filled with cement rather than air.
“How is this possible?” I thought to myself. “Can a man’s belly actually get this big and round without bursting?” I continued to wonder, and placed my hands on the bowed out sides of the over-sized belly.
“So, I’ll bet you can’t believe you got so huge, right?”
I nodded in the affirmative.
“Well, some of us don’t spend all of our time on sports or weight lifting. Some of us actually use our brains.”
I didn’t know where he was going with this explanation so I continued to listen closely.
“I saw you after you overate so much at the training table. I knew that your stomach was big and could really expand. But your mid section is still firm even when swollen so I knew you had very strong ab muscles that held everything together. I did some research and knew my idea would work on you because of your muscle structure. See, your body is like a big hot water bottle. Your stomach can greatly expand but your muscle is strong enough to keep it from bursting. Neat, huh?”
After completing his explanation, the young man reached out and began to poke the giant water ball. “So did you get enough water? Or do you want some more?” he teased. “You’re getting awfully big, but are you still thirsty?”
“Get away from me… you fuckin’ freak ” I yelled, “You’ve… turned me into a blimp. How can I play football… when I look… like a pregnant hippo?”
I couldn’t reach around my belly in order to knock away his finger from continuing to poke the blown up stomach. He smiled when he noticed my attempt.
“So can’t quite reach around your gut, can ya? Maybe you did get enough water. I think it’s time for you to go out on to the field ”
“You’re crazy… you little prick. I can’t play like this All I’d do is roll around the field… like a giant boulder ”
“Well, I think you should join your teammates and help them out anyway you can. Its ‘All For Team’ remember?” The water boy quoted the sign over the locker room door. “Now GO GET “EM ”
With that, he quickly moved behind me and started to push on my back. Normally the weak force he could exert would do nothing, but being so front heavy, I began to lean forward. I had to take a step to keep my balance. The water boy kept pushing. I took another step. Then another. And another. Once my face was within two feet of the metal exterior door, my hugely protruding belly hit the bar, and the door began to open. Even though I was 300 pounds (or more in my current state) I was helpless to stop this 140-pound weakling from literally pushing me outside into a wide, open–air hallway. He followed.
“Don’t let the team down ” the water boy exclaimed as he patted my giant gut with both his hands. He laughed loudly and then disappeared back into the locker room.
I leaned up against the concrete wall. I could see the grass football field itself and the on-going game through the open end of the hallway. At the opposite end were a couple of grey metal doors that led to various other sections of the stadium.
My gut was sore and so grotesquely protruding, I could not let my buddies or the coaches see me like this. I had to get back into the stadium without anyone noticing.
Before I could begin waddling back into the stadium, one of the heavy doors swung open and out walked a security guard. He was a large man in his 40s, with a dark hair and a full beard. His light blue uniform was tight, hugging every curve of his muscular arms and legs and straining to hold in his protruding ball gut. Normally I would have made fun of a man with a stomach so big, but mine stuck out even further. He approached me with a big smile on his face.
“Son, how much have they been feedin’ ya?” he asked while placing one huge arm on my shoulder and the other on top of my swollen belly. “I know the coaches want some big lineman, but damn, you look like you’re about to explode How much do you weigh now?”
“Well, I’m… about… three…,” I started to say, still trying to catch my breath after the obscene over-inflating I had experienced. But the big man interrupted. “You gotta be over three-fifty right?” he wondered. “You close to three-seventy-five?”
Before I could respond, he began to pat and poke my enlarged stomach on the top and then the sides. “You must be overeating non-stop. I ain’t never seen a belly so big; it’s like you’ve swallowed a beach ball full of cement ”
His description was exactly how I felt. I just moaned in response to his comment.
“Well, I don’t want to hold you up from the game,” he noted and stopped poking my gut. “Let me give you a hand. Looks like it’s hard just to carry that thing around.”
The big strong man began to steer my bloated body towards the playing field. I tried to protest but he wasn’t listening. I knew that I was helpless to keep my momentum from whatever direction he was guiding me in.
As we reached the edge of the grass, all the activities surrounding the on-going game were visible. The players were mostly at one end of the field, as we were getting close to a score. I thought that maybe I could reach the end of our bench without attracting too much attention, then leave when no one was watching.
The security guard gave me one last push forward. “Good luck; I know you’ll open up some big holes for our backs. Just take it easy at the training table from now on, son. You let that gut get any bigger and you won’t be able to move ”
I was a little mad that he was mistaking me for an offensive lineman. Then I looked down at my gigantic belly. No wonder he thought I was one of the big guys up front. Of course, not even our lineman had a stomach this size.
The entire lower section of the stadium was visible once I was out on the grass. Most of the players were focused on the action at the end of the field, so I thought I could make my way over without attracting much attention. I slowly waddled towards the bench where some of the players were sitting. I had only taken a few steps when the player sitting the closest to me turns around. He’s not wearing his helmet, so I can instantly tell that it’s my buddy Zack. He jumps up and runs over to where I’m standing.
Zack’s eyes were wide open as he reached me. “SHIT, DUDE; WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR BELLY?” he stated loudly then reached out and gave the bloated gut a poke. “You look like you’ve swallowed a barrel ”
“No…it’s just that…see…,” I wasn’t sure how to start my explanation, “the water boy… he had this shit load of water and…”
“The water boy what?” Zack asked, “Did you swallow him?” The young football player kept patting my hugely swollen stomach. “Hey water boy, you in there?” Zack pretended to continue to speak into my belly. “Dude, what’s it like inside of Jason? Plenty of beer in there too eh?”
“HEY, NUMBER FIFTY EIGHT, WHEN ARE THE TRIPLETS DUE? TOMORROW?” I heard a shout from the crowd, directed towards me. I looked to my right to see a group of male students standing up in the bottom row of the stadium. Each one was laughing and pointing at my ballooned up belly. I had not realized that while talking with Zach, I was turned sideways to the crowd. This allowed a perfect view of my oversized stomach in incredible profile.
“NUMBER TWENTY SEVEN,” one shouted at Zack, “DID YOU KNOCK HIM UP? NICE JOB DUDE, HE LOOKS LIKE HE’S FULL OF BABIES” “DON’T FUCK HIM ANYMORE, HE’LL POP” another fan yelled out.
Zack grinned at these remarks and leaned over and placed his ear to my belly. The handsome football player was playing to the crowd by pretending I was pregnant and he was listening to the babies movement.
“NUMBER FIFTY EIGHT, LOOKS LIKE YOURE ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH TO A TEN YEAR OLD. HOPE IT’S A BOY ” the young men in the stands laughed louder.
Just standing still for a minute was making me tired, so I started waddling towards the bench. Zack walked beside me still with a stunned look on his face.
“HEY, HINDEN-BERG, WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE? YOU SHOULD BE FLOATING OVER THE STADIUM ” I realized that since I had moved a little further down the row, the young men could now read my name “Berg” on the back of my jersey. And of course, my name was part of the name of a famous blimp
“DON’T RUN INTO ANYTHING SHARP HINDEN-BERG OR YOU’LL BURST” one of the fans yelled out. “HEY MILLER,” another shouted, reading the last name off of Zack’s jersey, “GUIDE HINDEN-BERG IN FOR A GENTLE LANDING. DON’T LET HIM FALL FORWARD OR HE’LL EXPLODE ” “OH THE HUMANITY ”
The last statement was made in the video of the actual Hindenburg’s crash. I must admit some of their comments were clever; not too many 18 year olds had seen the old newsreel footage of the Hindenburg I thought.
Zach helped guide my hugely bloated body towards the benches, and plopped me down on the end of the closest one. I leaned back and moaned, rubbing my hands on the sides of my enormous stomach.
“What the fuck happened to your belly?” Zach stated as he sat down next to my ballooned up form. “How could you eat so much?” he asked and gave the side of my gut a poke. “I’d swear you’ve swallowed a dozen watermelons ”
With my hand placed on my belly’s wide shelf, I began to explain my predicament. “It ain’t… food. See…, that fuckin’ water boy… pumped me…” was a far as I got before I was interrupted.
“SHIT ” I recognized the familiar voice as Ryan. I turned to see the young man in his football uniform walking towards me. Fortunately, he was the only one; all of the other players were congregating at the other end of our side of the field.
“What’s inside your stomach, dude?” Ryan asked. “You ‘bout to give birth to a baby elephant?” The young man sat on the other side of me and sharply poked the bowed out side of the belly sphere. “Did you do this to him?” he asked of Zach.
“Nah,” Zach answered Ryan’s question. “The blimp here said something about the water boy pumping him.” Zach then turned to me and put his hand on the side of the giant gut. “What about pumping you? Did the water boy fuck you in the ass and get you pregnant? Looks like you got three or four babies in there ”
Both young men began to laugh, but quickly Zach’s expression became more serious. “Shit ” he exclaimed and jumped up from his seat.
“What’s up?” Ryan wondered.
“Check it out. Somebody’s hurt bad ”
I looked towards the end of the grass field. The active players were gathered in a large group around the twenty-yard line and the rest of the team was close by, just off the sideline. Both Zach and Ryan were running down to join the others. I debated whether to get up but lifting and then carrying the weight of my mega swollen stomach was too daunting. So although I was concerned, I chose to sit still and try and catch my breath.
The stadium was quiet, awaiting the outcome on the extent of the injury. I looked down at the giant ball resting in my lap. I could feel the weight of it pressing downwards onto my quadriceps. My breathing was still heavy as the incredible pressure had not abated. I tired to massage the top and sides of the swollen stomach to relieve some of the discomfort.
The applause from the crowd took my attention away from my giant belly and directed it towards the field. Most of the players were walking off to the other end of the bench. Behind them I could see one player hobbling towards the sideline. One of his thick, muscular arms was supported by an assistant coach and the other by the senior trainer. The crowd was cheering as the injury did not appear too serious although the player would clearly miss the rest of the game. I stood up and slowly took a step towards the action. I sinking feeling developed in the pit of my grotesquely swollen stomach when I realized who the injured player was - Billy, the starting tight end I'm the back-up at that position, so I new the coaches would be looking for me to insert into the game. I looked back down at the huge ball I had continued to absentmindedly rub. They're gonna give me such shit for blowing up like this, I thought to myself, They'll never play me in this condition.
Coach Greene, one of the assistants, was quickly walking my way, looking for me I was sure. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was me standing 'behind' the giant tan sphere.
His eyes were as big as saucers when he began to yell. WHAT THE FUCK, BERG? YOU DONE SWALLOWED A FUCKIN BEACH BALL? The muscular man gave my giant belly a hard poke. YOU GOTTA FUCKIN KEG IN THERE? HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET SO FAT?
Uhh, coach, I'm not fat..., I just, uhh... I stammered searching for a plausible explanation. I just overate... a little... at the training table.
OVERATE A LITTLE? the coach continued to yell and sharply poke the water balloon. I winced a little with each hard poke. LOOKS LIKE YOU ATE A THANKSGIVING DINNER FOR TWENTY GUYS I just need... to rest a little, I stated, And let my belly... deflate back down.
REST? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THIS IS, A FUCKIN' TEA PARTY? YOU'LL FUCKIN' REST WHEN I FUCKIN' TELL YOU TO. The man's neck was turning purple as he kept yelling and poking. NOW GET IN THERE BLIMP AND RUN X-BLUE-46-PISTOL.
I knew that the last part of what he said was the play he wanted me to tell the quarterback in the huddle. Usually whichever player was last to come into the huddle brought the designated play in from the coaching staff.
But... I can't play like this... I placed my hands on the sides of my inflated stomach. I'm too full
LOOK, YOU FUCKIN' BLIMP.I WANT YOU AND YOUR GIANT FUCKIN' PREGNANT BELLY IN THAT GAME NOW OR YOU'RE OFF THE TEAM
With that he gave my belly one last hard poke and then pushed me from behind towards the field. I pulled my helmet on and ran as fast as I could towards the middle of the field. It was not easy to move with so much weight sticking out front and I couldn't see where I was going.
The other ten men were already in the huddle waiting for me when I breathlessly arrived. As I got a close look at their faces, each was wearing a smile a mile wide.
Dude, when are the triplets due? our quarterback, Brian, asked. Next week? You ate a dozen watermelons before the game, man? another player wondered. You sure that was a good idea? Another said. Hey guys, don't touch his belly. It could pop at any second
I... just... ate a little too much... before the game, I was still winded from running onto the field. Coach said to run X-Blue-46-Pistol. We all knew this play was designed for the quarterback to fake to his right than roll-out the other way and hit the wide receiver down near the goal line - an easy touchdown
Brian's grin grew. Nah, I don't like that. That's just what these guys are expecting. The quarterback turned to me.
And speaking of expecting, Jason, you should get the ball. No one will think that the dude with the hugely pregnant belly will have the ball ” With that remark, the tall young man gave the side of my bloated gut a pat. The rest of the guys were laughing, “Hell yeah, give it to the pregnant guy,” another agreed.
“OK, we’re going with End-Right-76-lion,” our quarterback stated the new plan. The rest of the athletes grinned even wider, as we all knew this was play designed to give the ball to the tight end - ME
“BREAK ” The whole team yelled in unison and clapped. Each young football player turned and took their position. I could not help but look down at my freakishly protruding gut as I waddled away from the dissipating huddle and approached the line of scrimmage.
I took my position behind the linemen an adjacent to the quarterback. When the ball was snapped, I attempted to run down field. But my belly was too heavy, so I could only jog towards the particular spot I was designated to go according to the play called in the huddle. All I could think about was the incredible weight in my gut and that I had to try hard not to fall forward. I turned back just in time to see the football spiraling towards me. I made the easy catch and twisted my body back around to “run” in the direction of the goal line. One of the defensive ends from the opposing team tried to tackle me, but he made the mistake of grabbing around my giant belly. My circumference was so great, the skin blown up so tight, he was unable to get a solid grip and he fell to the ground. The significant extra weight I was carrying made it easier to keep my momentum going.
I could hear the roar of the crowd as by this point I had advanced the ball more than ten yards, so we were going to get a first down at least. But more players from the opposing team were close to me, so I knew I would be tackled soon. There was an forceful collision between four huge objects: two very muscular linebackers from the other team, me, and my gigantic belly. I could feel the impact in several areas, including in the side of my overly stretched stomach. As I began to slowly fall to the ground, I though to myself, “SHIT , if I land on this fuckin’ blown up belly, I?m gonna burst like a water balloon. I gotta turn around ”
I twisted my hyper swollen body hoping to land at a different angle. I did manage to hit the ground on my side and quickly turned onto my back. I realized the bad part of this idea when a 240 pound linebacker landed on top of my over inflated gut. Thankfully, the other linebacker landed across my legs, There was a couple of seconds of a variety of noises related to the collision, then the sound of the whistle blowing which officially ended the play.
The players started to get up.
The linebacker realized the size and shape of the object that he was lying upon. He intentionally placed both fists in my belly to push himself up. “WHAT THE FUCK, DDUE?” he asked, as he stood. “YOU GOT A FUCKIN’ KEG IN THAT THING? HEY, CHECK OUT THE GUT ON THIS GUY. I THINK I FOUND MY MISSING BEACH BALL ” I tried to get up but was pinned by the weight of the gallons of water in my belly. “HEY, get this pregnant horse off the field ” another one of the opposing players stated as he walked by. “He looks like he about to go into labor with triplets ”
I held up my hand so that one of my teammates would help me up. One of the wide receivers reached down and tried to assist me, but he couldn’t budge the tremendous weight. The slim young man called over a couple of other guys. It took two 300 pound plus offensive linemen to help me into a sitting position, then to pull me up to standing upright. I could see the guys on the other team laughing and pointing to my giant gut as I waddled back to our huddle.
“AWESOME ” Brian said with a huge grin. He gestured towards my swollen belly. “Once that giant gut gets moving, it ain’t gonna be stopped ”The other guys gathered in the circle laughed. “It’s like a huge fuckin’ boulder rollin’ downhill,” another stated. He reached over and poked the belly balloon. “How much does that fucker weigh?”
“Hey, we gotta get set,” Brian noted, then called the next play. I realized instantly that again I was the primary receiver. “Dude... I... uh... can... barely...,” I started to say, still trying desperately to catch my breath. “Move. I... need...” I slowly continued my thought when Brian interrupted. “BREAK ” he yelled and the players left the huddle and headed towards their starting positions. He gave me a nudge towards my spot. “They’ll never expect you and your belly to have the ball again. “GET SET ” the quarterback yelled.
I barely had time to waddle over to my designated area when the ball was snapped. This time the ball was pitched to me as I ran diagonally by the quarterback. The two big offensive linemen in front of me now weighed less than I did, but were doing an effective job of blocking. I could see the goal line only a few yards in front of me. One of their safeties, a fast tall dude with curly hair sticking out of his helmet, tried to grab me around the thighs. He only weighed around 180 pounds and I tossed him aside like he was a school girl. But now the big guys were trying to pull me down before I could cross their goal line. I could see their hands trying to grab hold of my belly, but slipping from the perfect sphere. A strong defensive lineman had a firm grip on one leg, but I was still fighting to gain yardage. With one final push, the incredible weight in my belly propelled by entire body forward and I landed on the ground with a loud thud mixed with a slosh.
But I was a foot past the goal line The first score of my college football career “HEY> LOOK ” one of my nearby teammates yelled, “THE FIRST TOUCHDOWN BY A PREGNANT DUDE ”My excitement over scoring faded somewhat when I realized I couldn’t get up. I was trapped rolling back and forth on the huge solid ball my belly had become. My gut was so large that my hands only barely reached the ground. Suddenly, I felt a heavy weight on my back, and pressure on my belly increased. “FAT BOY, FUCKIN’ AWESOME ” he yelled in celebration, “I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU CARRIED THAT BABY CALF IN YOUR STOMACH ACROSS THE GOAL LINE, BUT YOU SURE FUC