Cliff's Reunion, Part 1

Cliff Atkinson had come to his 10-year reunion reluctantly for only one reason: he had heard the organizing committee was planning to give out some donated prizes at the end of the evening, and any free stuff he could get his hands on would be a blessing. His life had been on a downward trend since high school, where he had peaked as a three-sport athlete who had bullied all the nerds to do his homework. College life started great with a steady stream of parties and beer, but they quickly took a toll on his once-amazing physique. When the spring quarter rolled around, he had added thirty pounds of flab to his frame and even once showed up drunk at one of his baseball games, so he was kicked off the team and lost his scholarship. Cliff had to leave college and ended up working a string of dead-end jobs.

By the time he received his invitation to the reunion, he was living in a room above his parents' garage and scraping by on unemployment. His mom felt sorry for him so she constantly baked his treats to raise his spirits, but all it really did was raise his weight and his waist size. 

He was now pushing 300 pounds of fat, and his muscles were soft and small. To add insult to injury, years of smoking had yellowed his teeth, his hair was already falling out, and the snacking on cookies and candy had resulted in an acne breakout on his face right before the event. Cliff had grown a beard to hid the acne, but it just ended up making his face look even puffier.

He shuffled into the reunion wearing one of his dad’s old button-down shirts and a pair of black slacks (both of which fit Cliff about 40 pounds ago, but now were certainly not flattering), grabbed his nametag, and planned to hide in a corner until it was time for the prize portion of the evening. But as he made his way to a darkened spot with an empty table, a large mountain of a man walked into his path. The guy was crazy big, with a powerfully built physique, dark hair, dark eyes, and tan skin. Cliff's eyes opened wide because although he didn't recognize the guy, he was amazed at his huge, bull-like body that fit perfectly into his white polo shirt and tan slacks.

"Wow!" was all he could muster, as he took a long gaze right at the man’s Herculean chest.

The man smiled and bounced his massive pecs a few times. "Hey there, big guy, how's it going?"

Cliff carefully watched the giant man's muscles go up and down, mesmerized by the large pert nipples and forest of chest hair he could make out underneath the thin fabric of the shirt. "I'm doing OK, but obviously not as well as you. You must have spent some serious time in the gym to grow this amount of beef. You look really great."

The muscleman took a step forward and flexed his enormous right bicep. "Yeah, I poured my heart and soul into making this body. I'm training to be a firefighter, and I have to be in perfect shape. Go ahead, give it a squeeze…feel for yourself how hard it is."

The ex-jock put his hand up and cupped Devin's bicep and then rubbed it a few times. 

"Seems like you found the perfect formula for success...your body is amazing. I'm Cliff, by the way, and I'm assuming you must be someone's date here at the reunion? I'm sure I would recall a stud like you back in high school."

“I’m Devin,” the man said with a smile that showed off his pearly whites, which of course were just as perfect as the rest of him. "I'm working as a security officer right now while I train to be a firefighter. Your reunion committee hired me to make sure no fights broke out during the event, and to escort the drunks to their Ubers."

"Well, I'm sure nobody is gonna mess with a stud like you. Your bigger than anywhere else here, by a mile."

"I don't know, big guy, you look you got some meat on your bones. I bet you're pretty strong," replied Devin as he finally stopped flexing.

"Me?" asked Cliff, looking down at his bloated belly. "Yeah, maybe 100 years ago. Unfortunately, I let myself go after high school."

"I don't know, you look nice and beefy. I bet you're a lot stronger and fitter than you think. You play sports?"

"Yeah, football, wrestling, and baseball."

Devin then put his hand on Cliff's bicep and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I bet you trained a lot, and I bet there's some muscle memory left in these biceps. You probably have a lot of power inside this hulk of a body."

"You think I look good?" asked Cliff hopefully. It had been a long time since anyone had paid him a compliment.

"I do, and I'm gonna prove it," said Devin. "I think we should go up to the weight room for a few minutes. Do some bench press and see how much power your body has. I’ve got the keys since I’m the security officer.”

Cliff, intoxicated by Devin’s good looks, rock-hard physique, aromatic cologne, and flattering words, agreed to go with him.

The two big men, one muscular, the other fat, entered the school’s weight room. Devin's big he-man chest lead the way, while Cliff's saggy butt dragged the man down from behind.

As soon as both were inside, Devin shut the door and locked it. Cliff seemed confused why he would do so, until Devin said, “This way, we won’t be disturbed.”

Cliff nodded and smiled, and the pair walked over to the nearest bench.

"Let's start with 225 pounds," stated Devin as he loaded up the plates onto the bar. "You should be able to do that easily."

Cliff slid himself onto the bench and underneath the bar. He certainly had been able to handle that amount of weight back in school, lifting it more than 15 times without any trouble, but that was long ago now. He was already sweating from the short walk from the reunion area up to the weight room, and he wasn’t a bit uneasy about trying it. 

“I don’t know…that seems like a lot," he said.

Devin came back around from the bar, leaned in close to Cliff, and put his hand on the man’s jiggly belly. “I believe in you, Cliff. I believe in your body. I believe in your muscles. I’m sure you’ve got so much testosterone coursing through you right now you could lift a building. You’re a fuckin’ powerhouse…a three-sport athlete with a big studly body. Are you feeling it, Cliff? Do you feel hot and hard and ready to demonstrate your strength?”

“Yeah!” roared Cliff – he was flattered, turned on, and hyped up all at once. “Yeah, I fuckin’ do!”

“Then let’s see you in action, Cliff. Let’s see you pump some real iron.”

Devin returned to his place behind the bench, and Cliff reached up to the bar.