You couldn’t fit in the changing room showers anymore, your thighs and love handles were wedged into the tight space hard. Your belly stuck out past your feet, your ass had to occupy two chairs and it refused to let you stand up most of the time.
And it wasn’t long before you’d gotten dropped from the football team, and the swim team plus you were stripped of your free access to the gym. Scoffing beignets and chocolate into your protruding belly was a hobby to you. You’d understood you couldn’t suppress your addiction to food, it became your comfort. This unhealthy relationship with food, never stopped. But any mention, from anyone about your weight gain, you’d quickly pile food down your mouth, filling your stomach to the brink each time. You’d continued to hang out with your mates, fuck girls in the locker room and watch the game on a Friday night. Still feeling down, you’d chugged three shakes and ate two Burger King Whoopers before you’d passed out, bloated on the coach.įrom there, no change. You’d stuffed two family-sized lasagnes down you before ordering three Hawaiian extra greasy pizzas (without the pineapple of course ?). The professionals all say how bad it is to do this and ohh are they so right.
That day, you’d gone back to campus and are your emotions. Everyone was expecting you to take heed of their advice, but the next coming months were a shock to everyone. Your friends had urged you to go back to the gym, to try and eat a little less and to get outside more. You’d been so embarrassed all day, you couldn’t wait to cover up and head back to campus. But one of your mates, Lucas, you’d been certain he tried to grab your love handle as you’d brushed past him…. All your friends were shocked to say the least, especially Malia the girl you’d been sleeping with….she didn’t come near you the whole day. In the sunlight you could see just how much cellulite was corrupting your thick thighs. Your belly looked so huge and blubbery, your tattoos were stretched and out of shape, quite a contrast from the six-pack everyone was expecting to see. You’d just taken off your t-shirt and instantly became self-conscious. You’d got back to the campus just in time to catch a lift with your friends to the beach. You’d bought yourself a size “xl” which was still a bit too tight…especially for all that junk. You’d woken up early and rushed to a store to buy some new swimming trunks you’d only found out last night your old ones barely came above your knees. It wasn’t until they decided to take a beach trip to Santa Monica that you’d felt embarrassed. You’d just wanted to gorge on chocolate and pizza and go see your mates. You’d really let yourself go, but honestly at first you didn’t care.
Your pecs now looked pumped full of fat rather than muscle and you could feel a new sensation of underarm fat rolls. Over time, your burly six-pack had completely gone it was replaced by some subtle flab on your belly, which jiggled and shook as you walked. You’d thought nothing of it and continued hanging out with your mates, chatting up birds and stuffing your face with lard-filled foods. You’d began to notice your six pack fade and your huge pecks started looking more saggy. You’d been too naive to realise what all these fatty foods might be doing to your body, your handsome muscular body. You didn’t want to cook, couldn’t be bothered, so instead you’d just stuff your face with greasy food and drink gallons of coke and lemonade. Each night you’d finish class, maybe go play some softball with the lads, and then you’d come back and order pizza, burgers or shove a family size lasagne pack in the microwave.
You’d headed to the club on the Friday, went to a pizza place with your mates on the Saturday and got a date for the Sunday. But you’d never thought for a moment that you might actually have to cook your own food? At college your parents don’t control what you eat anymore, and for most people this is their chance to create culinary masterpieces….but you weren’t in to all that, having to cook in the kitchen and wash all the dishes, nah you’d much rather hang out with your mates instead. You’d been excited to start your freshman year at college, dreaming about how much freedom you’d have and all the girls you’d have to fuck.