Dressed in boat shoes, tight chino short shorts, and an even tighter tank top, he would’ve been a clone of the rest of his friends if it weren’t for the fact he was clearly the only one who hadn’t seen the inside of a gym for quite some time. The cuff of his shorts were snug against cellulite dimpled thighs and when he sat down the cuffs caused his leg fat to slightly balloon like a muffin rising in the oven. His ass cheeks were plump and juicy, resembling two bouncing water balloons suctioned inside fabric. The seam of his shorts looked ready to burst when he seated himself. He sat with legs spread wide to accommodate healthy thighs and a swollen midsection. From the angle I was sitting I couldn’t see his bulge, but regardless of whether it was big or not I knew it had to be visible in those shorts. They were so stuffed with leg and ass fat that his package was surely straining at the seams as well. His seafoam green tank top clung to every inch of his fattened upper body, displaying a rounded paunch on the verge of an overhang. It was a hot summer day and a small sweat stain had formed on his lower back between two meaty lovehandles.
I imagined myself peeling off the shirt and licking the salty sweat from his back while squeezing the fat that clung to his hips. My two girlfriends noticed my hungry gaze and quickly clued in to the object of my desire. They knew my penchant for thick boys, and were giggling and prodding me to go talk to him. I had to make eye contact with him first. So I remained seated and observed the overfed man for the next hour. The group of men each ordered a fancy cocktail first. Everyone had something different, whether tall and colorful or short and icy, but the man I had my eyes on ordered something special. The waitress brought his out last, and the group began to laugh and cheer. He had ordered some sort of massive blended drink with a corona stuck in the top. One of his friends exclaimed: “Cliff is gonna get shhwasted!” His name was Cliff.
I couldn’t wait to watch this curvy cutie guzzle down every last drop of those sugary empty calories. Indeed, he wasted no time in getting started. My focus returned to my friends for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and when I looked back over half the drink was already gone. I paid special attention to when the waiter took their order. When it was Cliff’s turn he pointed to something at the menu and asked a question. The waitress motioned with her hands to convey what I assume was a portion size. Cliff continued speaking for what seemed like a long amount of time. I couldn’t tell if he was asking questions or just fine tuning his order, but it struck me that this boy was serious about his food.