Lust Thy Neighbor, Part 1

Andrew walked to the foyer of his home, opened the front door, and saw that it was his Matt, an acquaintance who lived down the street. "Morning. How are you?"

Matt had a confused look on his face. He was expecting to see 27-year-old Andrew Watkins, the famous bodybuilder, open the door. The man standing before him was about the same height as Andrew, and had the same brown hair and brown eyes, but he was much too husky and bloated to be a bodybuilder. And instead of wearing a tight tank top and workout shorts, he was wearing an oversized black sweatshirt and a pair of baggy black sweatpants that made him look even bigger than he really was. "Hi, um, I was wondering if Andrew was home?"

"It’s me, Matt. I’m Andrew."

Matt's eyes widened at the error. "Oh, sorry, Andrew. It's just that usually you're a bit...um...you know..."

Andrew laughed and held his gut. "No worries, Matt. I'm usually a bit smaller, right? Well, this is just bulk-up weight. Extra body weight helps me lift heavier and gain muscle during the offseason, and I'll start dieting down soon for my next contest."

"Well, I'm still sorry, Andrew – I don’t really know anything about the sport, which is exactly why I came over. My kid wants to be a bodybuilder and needs a mentor. Two years ago, after turning 20, Jack really got into lifting weights, you see. It was sort of a surprise since Jack hadn't really shown an affinity for sports or exercise before. All our kids or sort of on the small side, so we didn't think we'd have any real bruisers in the family, you know?"

"I'm guessing that Jack proved you wrong,” said Andrew. “He got quite a bit bigger?"

"Huge! I'm only 5'7" and weigh 140 pounds, and my wife barely tops 5 foot and weighs about 100 pounds. Jack not only grew a head taller than me, but he outweighs me by at least 50 pounds. Anyway, I'm looking for someone to give some advice and talk about possible careers in the fitness industry. Would you be willing to do that – maybe come over for dinner tonight and offer some tips to Jack?"

Andrew nodded. "I'd be glad to. What time?"

Matt answered, "We'll have dinner at 6:00 when Jack gets home from the gym. The other kids are visiting their grandparents right now, so it'll just be you, me, my wife, and Jack. Thanks again!"

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Later that evening, Andrew rummaged through the fat clothes in his closet to find something he could wear to dinner. He had gotten so large – up from his competition weight of 195 to 260 – that he could barely squeeze into his size 46 waist pants, but he sucked in his gut and was able to find a pair that fit. He also found a 3XL blue plaid shirt that wasn't too tight, which he liked since he didn't want his moobs to be on display.

Just before 6:00pm, he grabbed a bottle of white wine from the rack in his kitchen and walked over to Matt's house, where he was greeted by his neighbor and his wife, Deanna. They chatted for a while in the living room when the front door opened, and Jack walked in. He was shirtless and sweaty from his workout at the gym.

Andrew turned to see he was facing a rock-hard 22-year-old who was about 6'1 and 200 pounds but with only about 5% body fat. His face and bone structure resembled his parents, but as Matt had said, Jack’s physique was far beyond the raw materials he had inherited. With his pumped-up muscles, tan skin blond hair, and blue eyes, Andrew thought Jack looked like the personification of the Greek god Apollo, and he definitely liked what he saw.

Introductions were made and then the four of them sat down to dinner (Jack reluctantly threw on a tank top) where Andrew gobbled down four servings of everything, including dessert. The size 46 pants he wore were getting very tight, and the XXXL shirt kept sliding up to expose his now soft gut.

The conversation throughout the meal was kept polite and general – the neighborhood, the weather, Netflix shows, etc. Jack declined to join in and ate silently, but Matt, Deanna, and Andrew all enjoyed themselves.

When the food was all gone, Matt and Deanna started to clean up and Andrew and Jack went out to the patio. “Your dad says you want to be a bodybuilder,” said Andrew.

Jack replied with a curt, “Yeah.”

"Well, you have the beginnings of a winning physique, and I may be able to help you," offered Andrew.

"You? You help me? You have got to be kidding. You’re a complete lardass," sneered Jack as he flexed his meaty, well-sculpted biceps. “And I’m in perfect condition.”

"I’m in my off-season shape right now, but I’ve been victorious in a lot of contests in the past 5 years. I’ve won Mr. American Hunk three times, Mr. Muscle Body twice, and just won Mr. Dynamo earlier this summer. Plus, my muscles just aren’t for show…I’m pretty strong, too,” replied Andrew.

"Really, would you like to place a small wager on that?” asked Jack confidently. "I don’t need your advice to become a bodybuilder, but I do need some supplements. So let’s wrestle, and the first man to pin the other wins. If I win, you pay for all my protein and vitamins for six months. And if you win, I'll suck your cock every day for the next six months so furiously it'll make your toes curl. Deal?"

Andrew’s eyes widened. “Um, why…”

“Dude, I saw you ogling me when I walked in, and there was no mistaking that erection in your pants even if it was obscured by your fat belly,” replied Jack. “So do we have a deal, Fatty?”

Andrew had a lot of thoughts all at once – anger at being made fun of, frustration for not having his bodybuilding experience respected, concern for ruining his relationship with Matt and Deanna – but mostly he felt lust. Andrew had been around hundreds of in-shape guys during his career, but he had never been as instantly attracted to someone like Jack. Part of it was his body, part of it was his good looks, and part of it was his cocky attitude. So without really considering the consequences, he instantly replied, “Deal!”

Jack and Andrew moved to the lawn in the backyard and started circling one another, slightly bent forward, like wrestlers before a match. They continued for about 15 seconds when the suddenly both lunged forward, and instantly Andrew knew he was in trouble. Not only was Jack a more experienced grappler, but he was obviously a lot stronger than he looked.

Andrew tried desperately not to get pinned, but he felt so very weak and clumsy (and woozy from stuffing himself at dinner), and his body wasn't responding like it had in the past. Even though he outweighed Jack by at least 50 or 60 pounds, the muscle stud had the advantage of speed, coordination, and a more powerful set of arms and chest. Within 30 seconds, Andrew was pinned on the grass and completely out of breath – and even worse, his shirt had ripped, and his soft quivering belly was now exposed.

"Geez, Fatty, you didn't even try. And now with all the protein you're gonna buy me, I'm just going to get stronger and stronger," said Jack, reaching down to jiggle Andrew's gut. "And you're just going to get fatter and fatter."

Jack then laughed and released the ex-bodybuilder. "Meet me at the VitaLife store on Swanson Street tomorrow morning at 10:00 sharp, and bring your Visa, grandpa. And if you’re not there…well, there’ll be consequences for welching."

Andrew slowly got up, used the remnants of his shirt to cover his belly, and quickly waved goodbye to his hosts as he left. "Thanks for the great dinner. My talk went well with Jack," he said as he hurried out the door.

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Andrew met Jack at the vitamin store as he commanded promptly at 10:00 the next morning. They were both dressed in the same outfits – white tank tops and red athletic shorts – but Andrew looked like a beached whale and Jack looked young, vigorous, and strong.

Jack laughed as Andrew walked up to the front door. "Same clothes, but very different results....you must be a glutton for punishment. I'm gonna like having you around because you are always gonna make me look good, Fatty."

Andrew grimaced, but he followed Jack inside anyway. The salesclerk came up to help, but Jack knew exactly what he wanted – he picked out tub after tub of protein powder, lots of creatine, and a variety of workout stacks. When they were all rang up, Andrew silently handed the clerk his credit card and charged $1,500 for the purchases, which he then helped Jack load into his car.

"I'll stop by when this load runs out, Fatty. Or feel free to come over anytime if you want to challenge me again." Jack laughed again, and then got in his car and drove away.

Andrew sighed, glad that the embarrassment was over...at least for now.

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A few months later, the supplements had made a big difference with Jack as he gained new muscle at a fantastic rate. His body shot up from 200 to 230 pounds of muscle with still very little fat on it, and his strength levels soared as well. His chest, which he had thought was his weakest part before, surged outward almost three inches during this time as his pecs grew bigger and beefier, and they looked incredible atop his shredded 31-inch waist. His shoulders and arms also responded well, pumping up even bigger than when Andrew's were when he won the Mr. Dynamo contest, and Jack's legs had become concrete trunks of muscle that no longer fit into a regular pair of jeans.

As he grew bigger, Jack also grew cockier and more demanding, so he decided to alter the winnings of the bet. Jack stormed into Andrew’s house one morning wearing only a tight pair of white boxer-briefs and flip flops. He went straight to the kitchen where Andrew was stuffing his face with food.

"Listen up, Fatty, I need more from you."

Andrew swallowed his food and tried not to stare and the musclebound punk, but it was hard not to. Jack had been growing at a superhuman rate since he had gotten his hands on the best supplements courtesy of Andrew's credit card, and he was better built and stronger than Andrew was in his prime. And to make matters worse, Andrew had ended up injuring his back during their wrestling match and had been unable to lift – or lose any weight – since that evening. In face, he had put on another 25 pounds and was up to 285.

"Hi Jack. Did you need more supplements?" he asked meekly.

Jack took a few steps forward so that he was right in front of Andrew. "Nah, I got plenty of that shit left. But as you can plainly see, it's working really well. I'm getting fuckin’ huge."

Andrew couldn't help but notice now, with Jack's juicy pecs just about a foot away.

Jack then flexed his right arm and put it up in Andrew's face. "I mean, look at this bicep, man. Look at that peak – it's insane! It's grown three inches in the last few months, from 18 inches to 21 inches!"

Andrew could smell a manly odor as he stared at the muscles and thought it was intoxicating.

Jack then lowered his arm and put his hands on Andrew's flabby belly. "Problem is, Fatty, that everything is growing on me, and now none of my clothes fit. And unlike you, it's not my gut and butt blowing out the seams, but rather my arms, chest, shoulders, and legs. So you are going to take me to get some new stuff to wear, got it?"

"But that wasn't part of the deal, Jack," gulped Andrew.

Jack moved in his face so that it was less than an inch from Andrew's face. "It is now. And unless you want another embarrassing beatdown – this time in public – you better do what I tell you, got it?"

Andrew nodded, secretly enjoying Jack's hot breath on his lips.

"Good boy. Now let's get going," said Jack.

"OK, so you want to go to like Marshall’s or Ross?"

"Fuck, no! Does this look like the body of a nerd? I want good stuff – the best. Some threads that will really show off all these muscles I got!"

Andrew had heard of a tailor that some other bodybuilders in town had used for custom fit clothes for the muscled physiques, so he decided to take Jack there. "I think I know a place," said Andrew. "Why don't you borrow some of my clothes from when I was your size, and then we can go."

Jack agreed, went upstairs, and borrowed a muscle T and a pair of workout shorts that no longer fit Andrew. They both got into Jack's car and Andrew used the GPS on his phone to navigate.

The shop was just opening up as the duo arrived, so they were the first customers of the day.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said the young, good-looking tailor with short, brown hair and big brown eyes. "My name is Ben, and I'm the owner here. How can I help you today?"

Andrew was about to speak when Jack took off his shirt to reveal his super muscular torso. "Yo, Ben, I got a problem. I've grown out of my clothes and I need some new ones – nice things that I can wear on dates, to the clubs, you know. Stuff that will really show off my muscles."

Ben smiled. "I do a lot of bodybuilders here, that should be no problem. Why don't you just stand up here and I will get your measurements, um...."

"It's Jack. And that's Andrew, but he don't need no clothes. He's just here to pay."

Ben looked over at the fat guy, waved and smiled, and then turned back at Jack. "OK, Jack, just stand right here."

The tailor got out his measuring tape and began to record Jack's stats: 50" chest, 20" bicep, 17" forearm, 32" waist, 29" thigh, and 18" calf. He moved slowly and methodically, and Andrew wasn't sure if he just wanted to be accurate or if he was really enjoying being that close to the young super jock. Andrew, however, didn’t even seem to pay any attention to Ben, which was surprising since he was quite handsome and seemed to have a nice physique under his suit.

Eventually Ben finished and did some quick calculations. “So look, here are you options: given your extreme measurements, custom clothes are the way to go. Nothing will do a better job to show off those muscles than some really tailored outfits. Assuming you would like to get 10 shirts and 10 pairs of pants, I can get them designed and sewn for about $5,000. How does that sound?"

Jack immediately said yes and waved Andrew over to pay. Andrew slowly got up from his chair and handed his credit card to Ben, who told them to come back in two weeks for all the clothes.

A few minutes later Jack and Andrew’s had left the shop and were back in Andrew’s car.

“I’m gonna look so fly in those new threads, Fatty,” said Jack. “All the guys and gals are gonna have a hard time resisting me.”

Andrew tried to ignore Jack.

“You remember what that was like?” asked Jack, as he tugged on Andrew’s love handle. “Before you lost all your willpower and turned into a blimp. I look at some old photos of you online – man, you were in decent shape. But look at your now…just a huge fuckin’ fatty.”

Andrew tried even harder to ignore Jack.

Jack then pulled up the bottom hem of Andrew’s tank top to expose his large, heavy gut. “I can’t believe you used to have ripped abs like mine, but now you’ve just got big ol’ sack of lard hanging here. I bet it’s going to be a long while before you are back in any contests, huh? Maybe 2-3 years, given your slowed-down metabolism…and that’s if you have the stamina for the workouts to burn off this flab. By then I’ll have won so many bodybuilding competitions that nobody will even remember who you are.”

Finally, Andrew reached his driveway and exited the car as fast as possible. Jack laughed and did the same, and both men headed for their homes.

For a few moments as he lumbered up the driveway, Andrew wondered why Jack was torturing him so much and demanding money. Jack’s parent clearly were well-off, based on their home and the cars they drove, and they also clearly supported Jack’s decision to become a bodybuilder. If he needed money for supplements or clothes or anything else, Matt and Deanna were sure to give it to him. They even mentioned on the night of the dinner that they would do anything to help their children chase their dreams.

“So if that’s the case,” thought Andrew, “Why has Jack been coming over to get it from me? Why not just get it from his parents?”

A few steps later, he lost his train of thought after his stomach start rumbling, so he made a beeline for the cookie jar in his kitchen.