It was an awkward conversation. Not necessarily a new one but as Blake’s waistline grew, so his fathers concern. An audible gulp and a deep breath came from Mr. Lange as he approached his son, who was working on his sixth slice of pizza.
“Hey Blake, take it easy there,” he bellowed. Blake looked up from his mostly empty pizza box and blushed a little. He took a few sips of the 2 liter soda beside him.
“Don’t get upset. I just worry about you, son. I want you to be healthy and to be the best you can be.”
Blake tolled his eyes and sighed. “What makes you think I’m not the best I can be?”
“Son. You’re bigger than most of your classmates. I see you struggling to make it up the stairs and I keep having to buy you new clothes because you’re outgrowing them so fast.”
Marty felt horrible for being so blunt but with Blake’s excessively rapid weight gain in the past year, it needed to be said.
“I’m not that big, and I’m happy with myself. It’s my body not yours. I don’t get why you feel the need to make me feel like shit because I’ve gained a little weight.” Blake ate a handful of fries during a brief silence, drawing the ire of his father.
“I don’t want you to feel like shit,” Marty began.
“Then don’t tell me how to live my life. Im not a little boy anymore.” Certainly not, his father thought, looking at his nearly 250 pound son.
“I’m 17 now. I’ll be in college next fall. I won’t be your problem anymore,” Blake said aggressively. He got up from the table, grabbed the pizza box, bag of French fries, and soda bottle.
Mr. Lange knew where this was going, Blake was headed to his room where he did most of his eating anyways. Marty took a deep breath and knew it wasn’t worth chasing after his son.
Blake closed the door, and Marty knew that was the last he’d see of his son for the night. Blake put on a Netflix show, laid in bed and finished off the food that remained. He’d fall asleep before his hunger woke him up a few hours later.
Midnight (but usually later) snacks were a very common routine for Blake. His father was usually asleep. If his step-siblings were around, they would be too. He snuck out of his room and down the stairs, the groaning of the steps was louder than he had expected. So what if his dad woke up though? He was right, he’s a grown man now and can make his own decisions. His dad has no right to tell him that anything’s wrong with his body.
Because he was confident he’d not run into anyone, Blake was shirtless, only wearing his boxer briefs which prominently displayed his voluminous butt. It was surprisingly sculpted for someone who had worked out almost never. What wasn’t sculpted was his belly. It proudly hung over the waist band of his briefs.
Not only was his belly and accompanying man boobs constantly growing, but his chest and stomach hair was beginning to grow in thicker and thicker. Dark brown, almost black hair began at Blake’s neck and thickened in the middle of his flabby chest. It sparsely covered his belly, more than could be expected due to the growing surface area. He looked down and almost proudly stroked his jiggly, hairy flesh.
It was surprising how hairy Blake was becoming considering his father was not a hirsute man. It must be from his mothers family, he suspected.
Blake made it to the kitchen undetected, and peered into the fridge. He rubbed his stomach while he considered what he could dig into. He saw some leftover cake from his step sisters birthday and decided to go with that. He began chowing down when he heard a noise.
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