Lardfill story ideas part 23

Roland pulled into the tiny little farming town at six in the morning, bathing the sleepy Main Street in a glaring yellow light.   The only activity appeared to be at the diner next to the small strip of shops in a cramped group of brick buildings.   This was apparently it, the entire commercial center of town held in a handful of tiny buildings.  He didn't even see a grocery store.     This was not a good sign for someone the size of Roland, who ate massive amounts and had let it balloon to his waistline.   He was approaching 400lbs and wasn't keen on thinking of having to cut back on food for the sack of getting a little piece and quiet while he relaxed in his newly purchased summer home.    

The cafe had a collection of thin men in nearly all the same outfit -  worn denim overalls and varying shirts that displayed hardworking bodies used to working on the fields and with livestock.   Roland, on the other hand, was soft, jiggly, pasty and white.   He never did a minute of hard labor in his life, and it showed.    His fleshy body waddled to the counter and sat heavily on one of the stools.    The men were staring.     Roland slid a menu out from a holder and looked at it, confused.    There was a diner menu and then a food listing with prices, like a permanent grocery flyer.    

"Hello stranger, what can I do 'fer ya?" a pleasant man in his thirties dressed in a white apron said with a smile from behind the counter.

"What's good?" Roland asked.

"Everything - but you look like a guy who could use a farmer's breakfast," the man said, and Roland immediately agreed.   

Roland thumbed through a local flyer next to the stack of menus and found it to be a tiny local newspaper of sorts.    The library was cutting its hours.   The school had extra rooms to rent to anyone who needed work space.   There was a potato bug ruining the crops "down at Gary's and also at Bert's".   It was a VERY small town.   

"How much 'you weigh, huh?" Roland was asked by an elderly man sitting two stools away.   Roland turned to look at him and found a happy face awaiting a reply.   He quickly reeled back his sarcastic response and quickly was lost as to what to say to the harmless old man.   

"Uh, too much?" Roland said with a little chuckle. 

The man looked him up and down and cocked an eyebrow, letting his smile fade.  

"I'd say you're a hair over 400lbs.   You eat a lot, son?" the old man asked knowingly.

"Yeah... yes?  I do,"  Roland replied, feeling a little weirded out by the exchange. 

"You better, because that Farmer's breakfast is enough to stuff a hog," he replied with a laugh and then went back to his eggs and bacon.    

Roland just went back to reading the local flyer, feeling every eye in the diner on his back.    People were staring, no one was talking.    His ass crack was probably hanging out.   He stood up and tugged at his sagging pantline, glimpsing around at the people.    Many of them snapped away from watching him as his head turned towards them a bit and the ones who kept staring looked fascinated.   

"Here's your breakfast," the cook said, glaring at everyone who was staring until Roland turned around to look at his meal.   

"Oh wow, thank you!"  Roland said in surprise.   There was a very large plate with a pound of bacon, 6 eggs (2 fried, 2 sunny side up, and 2 scrambled), 10 sausages, 3 pancakes, beans, a scoop of coleslaw, hashbrowns, and a cheesy omlette with mushrooms and spinach.   It was a heaping pile of food and Roland's stomach growled at the sight.  

He began eating and was lost in the delicious, high quality food.   Thick bacon, dark yolked eggs, homemade sausages and light and fluffy pancakes that nearly melted in your mouth.     He packed in mouthful after mouthful, adjusting his weight several times so he could pull his pant's waistband out from under his belly to relieve the tightness.    When he was finishing up the last two sausages, wiping them around the plate to mop up the fat, butter, syrup, crumbs, and yolk, he looked up to see that the men inside were watching him deour the food.     The old man looked impressed.

"Good, isn't it?" he said to Roland with a big grin.

Roland could only nod his head, feeling incredibly stuffed.    The cook walked over with a big take-out cup with a straw.    He asked what it was and the cook apologized for forgetting it earlier.   It was his milk shake that comes with the meal.     

Roland was breathing heavy and fully aware his lower belly was currently hanging out from under his tshirt.    He paid the $10 for the meal, feeling like he was cheating them out of money, and gave a $10 tip.    He waddled out, got in his car and drove down until the Main Street met another road and then a few driveways down, he found his new summer home.    A little red bungalow sat up on a hill with a great view of the little town and the whole countryside.    He felt like a king up on the hill, even higher than the town's church steeple.   He sighed and unlocked the door to see what he was to face inside.

To his delight, the house was just as he was promised.   Fully furnished, all modern inside with lots of privacy in the backyard where an above ground pool sat, full and ready to be enjoyed.     He could've cried.    He had been divorced for a month and living in a motel.    This summer home was very possibly going to be his new home.   It could see himself moving in permanently if he could eat like that every day.   He would figure out the grocery situation later.    He first had to strip naked and jump in the pool.    

He wasn't ashamed of his weight gain, especially the last 50lbs which he had gained during  and since the divorce.   He actually enjoyed the feeling and the sight of new stretchmarks.   His weight was one of the many issues that led to his divorce, and it felt liberating to gain weight without someone nagging him all the time.     As he inspected the water, he caught a glimpse of himself in the water, and shook his belly in his hands in response.    He felt his dick twitch as he looked at the reflection of a severely obese young man.   Then he jumped in the water and let his fat float him lightly on his back.   

It wasn't more than five seconds before Roland opened his eyes to see the smiling face of the cook standing on the deck over his floating face.    Roland gasped out and felt like he was falling for a split second, scared to see someone standing there so suddenly.   

"Hi there!"  the cook said, with his arm outstretched to the water. 

Roland cautiously shook his hand and looked around to see if there was anyone else ready to pop out of the woodwork.   

"Hi, uh, can I help you?" Roland asked.

"No, no!  I just wanted to welcome you to the town.   I didn't relaize you were the one moving in up here!"   the cook said.

"Oh, yeah.     That's me," Roland said, nervously.   He was trying to remember where he put his clothes as he pressed himself up against the side of the pool.

"I came up here because I'm also the mayor, and the grocer.    You basically have to come through me to get anything around here, so I thought I'd gie you a proper introduction.   I'm Jack Graves,"  he said with a big smile.

"Roland MacDonald."  

"I'll get out of your hair, but I'll leave a food order sheet in the kitchen and my number, okay?"  and with that,  Mayor Jack Graves went into Roland's house and left as though it were his house to walk through.    Roland got out and locked the door after he heard the mayor's car drive off down the hill.