It was a hot summer day and a small sweat stain had formed on his lower back between two meaty lovehandles. His seafoam green tank top clung to every inch of his fattened upper body, displaying a rounded paunch on the verge of an overhang. They were so stuffed with leg and ass fat that his package was surely straining at the seams as well. From the angle I was sitting I couldn’t see his bulge, but regardless of whether it was big or not I knew it had to be visible in those shorts. He sat with legs spread wide to accommodate healthy thighs and a swollen midsection. The seam of his shorts looked ready to burst when he seated himself. His ass cheeks were plump and juicy, resembling two bouncing water balloons suctioned inside fabric. The cuff of his shorts were snug against cellulite dimpled thighs and when he sat down the cuffs caused his leg fat to slightly balloon like a muffin rising in the oven.
Dressed in boat shoes, tight chino short shorts, and an even tighter tank top, he would’ve been a clone of the rest of his friends if it weren’t for the fact he was clearly the only one who hadn’t seen the inside of a gym for quite some time. I spied him from across the restaurant the second he entered with a gaggle of other basic white gays. He was far too preppy to be someone I’d ever consider dating, but that didn’t mean my lust for him was not white hot.
