Quite the Appetite - Chapters 5 & 6

Chapter Five

Caleb had been coming in every week for almost two months now. And each time, he looked heavier, softer. He carried it well—mostly—but there were signs. The slight wheeze when he walked up to the counter. The way he adjusted his jeans every time he sat down. His growing belly didn’t just press into his shirts anymore—it was starting to stretch them.

And he seemed to enjoy it. The teasing. The food. The weight.

“Same order?” I asked as he leaned heavily against the counter.

He shook his head. “Actually… double it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Feeling ambitious tonight?”

He patted the curve of his belly. “Let’s call it making up for lost time.”

I keyed in the order—a double bacon cheeseburger, two large fries, onion rings, mozzarella sticks, and a large milkshake. Then I added an order of chili cheese fries without even asking. I knew he'd want them.

Caleb made his way to his usual booth, his belly swaying with each step. He sighed heavily as he sank into the seat, the table pressing against his midsection. His shirt slid up slightly as he adjusted himself, exposing a strip of soft skin. He didn’t even seem to care anymore.

When the food arrived, he dug in immediately. I watched from the counter, mesmerized as he powered through the cheeseburgers and fries. He moved with practiced ease, alternating between bites of his burger and sips of his milkshake. His belly pressed tighter against the table with each bite.

Midway through the meal, Caleb leaned back and let out a low groan, his hand resting heavily on his belly. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes slightly glazed over. “God,” he breathed. “That was… intense.”

“Need a break?” I teased.

He grinned lazily. “Nope. Just getting started.”

And he was. He finished the mozzarella sticks and chili fries without hesitation, licking the grease from his fingers when he was done. His belly was round and tight, straining against his shirt.

When he tried to stand, it took him two tries. He shifted forward, bracing himself on the edge of the table with both hands. His belly pressed into the table’s edge, visibly in the way. He managed to heave himself up with a low grunt, his shirt riding up as he straightened. His belly jiggled slightly as he adjusted himself, tugging the fabric down.

“You good?” I asked, trying to hide my amusement.

Caleb smiled, resting his hands on his belly. “Yeah. Just… full.”

I followed him to the door, watching the sway of his hips and the way his belly pushed out in front of him. He paused before leaving and turned back to me.

“See you next week?”

“Definitely.”

He grinned, patting his belly one more time before heading out.

Chapter Six

Caleb showed up the following Friday—bigger than ever. His t-shirt was visibly tighter, clinging to his chest and belly, which now pushed out more prominently than before. His jeans looked like they were fighting a losing battle, the waistband cutting into the softness of his sides.

I didn’t even need to ask for his order this time. He shuffled up to the counter, already a little breathless. His belly pressed heavily against the edge as he leaned forward.

“Hey,” I said. “The usual?”

He smiled. “Yeah. And maybe… double the fries. Again.”

“Living dangerously,” I teased.

“Don’t worry,” he said, resting a hand on his belly. “I’ve got room.”

I rang up his order and watched as he made his way toward the booth. He had to shimmy his hips to slide in, his belly pressed tightly against the table. He adjusted himself with a low grunt, his shirt riding up over his soft skin.

About halfway through his meal, a group of high schoolers came in—a mix of athletes in football jerseys and cheerleaders in uniform. I noticed Caleb glance toward them briefly before focusing back on his food.

But they noticed him.

“Holy shit,” one of the football players muttered, loud enough for Caleb to hear. “Is that Caleb?”

“Damn,” another guy added, laughing. “What happened to him?”

“Guess he’s been spending more time here than the gym,” someone else joked.

Caleb froze, his hand halfway to his mouth with a mozzarella stick. His cheeks flushed red. He swallowed hard and set the stick down, his other hand resting instinctively on his belly.

I saw the hesitation in his eyes—the flicker of self-consciousness. But then… something shifted.

He smiled lazily, leaned back in his seat, and stretched his arms behind his head. His belly pushed further into the table, stretching his shirt to its limit. The hem rode up, exposing a soft strip of skin above his waistband.

“Yeah,” he said, patting his belly audibly. “Guess I’ve been indulging a bit.”

The football players exchanged awkward looks, unsure how to respond.

Caleb reached for his milkshake, took a long sip, and then grinned. “What can I say? Life’s too short to skip dessert.”

The football player nearest to him looked visibly uncomfortable. The cheerleader next to him shot Caleb a quick glance—an intrigued one.

Caleb’s gaze shifted back to me, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

“Dessert?” I asked, matching his grin.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Surprise me.”

I brought him a slice of pie with whipped cream. He dug in immediately, not even hesitating despite the attention still lingering on him. The cheerleader was still looking at him, her expression torn between curiosity and disbelief.

When Caleb finished the pie, he leaned back and let out a low groan, his hand drifting to his belly. His shirt was stretched tight across his middle. He didn’t bother adjusting it. He let it sit there, riding up.

When he stood up, he had to brace himself against the table. His belly pressed forward, wobbling slightly as he straightened up. One of the football players’ eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Caleb said with a chuckle. “Might need to let out the jeans a little.”

And with that, he sauntered toward the door, leaving them all staring.

Before he left, he turned toward me. “See you next week?”

“I’ll have a booth ready.”

Caleb smiled. “Better make it a bigger one.”