I just found out that my boyfriend has been adding half-n-half to everything he cooks for me. No wonder gaining has become so easy for me lately! That was such exciting news! Merry Christmas to me! And all of you as well.

I need to start off by apologizing for the gap in my updates. Life has been rather insane of late, with multiple family crises, preparing to move and take a new job, and the usual stresses. Fortunately, I have not been fading away, as I have gained an additional 10lb since starting this blog. I'm hopeful that 350lb will be staring back up at me from the scale by spring.

One new development which can be a bit dicey is a change in my balance. Over the last year, I have noticed that my extra weight has made it much more difficult for me to stand on one foot. While you might ask what would I need to stand on one foot for, you'd be surprised about what is required. In addition to putting on socks (which are awkward regardless due to the size of my abdomen), cleaning your feet in the shower and putting on pants require some balancing. I haven't yet figured out a workaround on this yet. My center of gravity is clearly different, and the weight over my one foot on the ground requires much more control to stay vertical.

I have also noticed that running down stairs has become a treacherous experience. It used to be easy to fly down stairs taking each step very quickly. Now, I find my momentum carries me faster than my feet are going, and I always feel like I'm about to tumble down the stairs. Fortunately, this hasn't happened yet, but it does make me go more slowly. I think once again this is due to my shift in center of gravity forward due to the huge gut protruding out in front of me. If my butt were bigger, I don't think this would be as much of a problem. However, I'm not complaining.

One of the challenges of being a gainer is dealing with well-meaning family and friends who are of the non-gainer/encourager persuasion. While you are busy stuffing your face at every chance, your family is worrying about your sudden "weight problem." Friends give double takes every time they see you, and ask "Are you working out?" While some people find all this very arousing, for me it is always a mixed blessing. Clearly, every new comment or sidelong glance at my expanding form is a compliment to my efforts. However, the intent of these comments is not to bolster my confidence or encourage me to eat more, but rather to point out what they see as a growing problem. It is designed to make me take stock and change my ways. It is easy to say, "Don't listen to them!" but it is hard to do.

It is not easy to have a close relationship with friends and family and not be out about this. When I get lectures from my parents about my eating my way to an early grave, I sit and listen, and when they ask why I am doing it, I shrug and say it is my own business. You might ask, "why not just tell them? You came out to them as gay, and they are fine now." Well, the likely reaction would be hysteria, followed by claims of my having a mental illness and being passively suicidal (presumably by eating myself to death). It would take years to get them past this, and I don't feel like I have to justify my existence like that. So coming out publicly about gaining is not an option. Unfortunately, the gains have put a barrier of fat between me and some of the people I love, and that is unavoidable. However, at the end of the day, I am much more happy being the bloated exjock than I ever was being the fit twink.

On the other hand, I am very lucky to have a great man who is so supportive of my gains. While gaining is not at the heart of our relationship, it is a very exciting "icing on the cake." He is a fantastic cook, and makes enough food for 4 every night. I, of course, eat for three. He loves my expanding girth, and it makes intimacy so much more exciting. In addition, he is very supportive when I have to deal with adversity in the non-gaining world. Together, we are working towards my goal of 400lb of blubber and muscle. He realizes I am not as fit as I used to be, and he takes on a lot of the physical chores in the house that interfere with my (over)eating. It generally works out well, though I do try to pitch in when I can. Since we've been together, I've managed to eat enough to gain an additional 70 pounds, and hope to balloon even more.

Becoming morbidly obese clearly has some downsides. However, those downsides are often as arousing as the upsides. Confused? Let me explain.

Carrying around enough weight for another person on your body puts a lot of pressure on your bones and joints. In particular, my feet have suffered. When i first stand up after not walking around for some time, it takes about 5-10 steps before I can walk without severe foot pain. Before gaining, I used to walk around barefoot on the balls of my feet. Now, all that weight pressing down on my feet make it way too painful to walk like that. While it certainly is uncomfortable, I find it totally arousing to have made myself so fat that my feet can't hold my weight. Good shoes help, but they don't eliminate the problem.

About 5 years ago, I began to notice I was very tired during the day. In fact, I noticed I would start to nod off while driving. Fortunately, I recognized the signs of sleep apnea, and underwent a sleep study. Once I got my CPAP machine and mask, my energy level improved and I was no longer drowsy. Since that time, I've put on about 60 pounds. While I don't advertise that I suffer from sleep apnea, I truly get aroused that I am too fat to breath on my own at night. While I am not into inflating and bloating per se, being hooked up to a machine that inflates Me all night is kind of arousing.

Lately, couches have become my nemesis. Most are built relatively low, and the springs are not made for someone weighing 330lbs. As my belly has grown larger and larger, I cannot shift my weight forward to move my center of gravity over my feet. I either have to rock back and forth until i have enough momentum to get my weight over my feet, or I have to push myself up with my arms while my belly sticks out. While it can occasionally be embarrassing, I love feeling this huge gut weighing me down.

While some of my readers might find all this disturbing, I do think many will identify with these thoughts and feelings. I accept these things as the price of being the man I desire. I can only imagine some of them will get worse as I push past 370.

More than a few years ago, I made a decision that I could only date guys into gaining and encouraging. I dated my first gainer/encourager boyfriend back when i was skinny. The physical and emotional connection that developed from totally baring my soul and intimate desires was amazingly intense. While that relationship didn't last,  I could never see myself ever dating a "civillian" with whom I would have to hide my true nature. I have been very lucky to have met very cool guys into this over the years, and dated several gainers and encouragers who were supportive of my expansion. Even better, six years ago, I met my gainer/encourager soulmate. He has been supportive of my goals, and his superb cooking has certainly manifested itself in my expanding waistline. Fortunately, gaining isn't the sole basis of our relationship, but it makes intimacy so much more intense. Some of my favorite recollections involve him pouring gainer shakes into me until I can barely move, and measuring my girth before and after. So far, my biggest is 66" sitting down, and 60" standing. Since we met, I have gained about 70 lb, and look forward to another 40-50lb.
 

Life as a 330lb guy is forever interesting. Apparently, i burst out of my pants getting out of my car today. So much for 46 waist pants! Now only 48" waist for me!

Its hard to believe how much I've grown over the last 12 years since I started gaining. I started out at 32" to 34" waist pants at age 27, and 16" neck shirts. I wore large shirts and shorts, without any difficulty. Shopping at regular stores was no issue, and I liked how my muscles looked in the outfits i bought.

My gains were really quick at first- I packed on 90lb (about 50% of my body weight) in less than a year. During that time, I could feel my body swelling up almost daily. I'd sit down and feel my belly rest more and more on my thighs, and started feeling my thighs pressing against the arms of chars. In fact, it was so compelling that I was aroused nearly all the time. My waistline expanded about 1" per month, and i must have gone through a set of clothes every 2-3 months. By the time that year ended, my waist was 42-44, and I was dressing in XXL shirts, with an 18.5" neck. (Currently I wear 48" pants, XXXLT shirts, and 20-20.5" neck).

To gain that fast, I started eating 5-6 meals per day (breakfast, mid-morning meal, lunch, mid-afternoon meal, first dinner, 2nd dinner). While not all meals were huge, I would get at least 500-1000 calories in at a sitting at a minimum. In addition, I started guzzling gainer shakes every night, and when they started to taste bad, I switched to drinking homemade ice cream shakes (50% ice cream and 50% whole milk- or half-n-half). These worked all to cause me to balloon up. I remember lots of double-takes that year from friends and coworkers. Several people didn't recognize me who hadn't seen me in 6 or 8 months. While I wasn't into being made fun of, I did enjoy the reactions i would notice in people.

One downside to gaining so fast was the development of stretchmarks. My upper arms, belly, and love handles broke out in progressively larger stretchmarks. I loved seeing then grow, and I wore them as a badge of honor. The more I gain, the more they appear, though the oldest strips have faded to white and are barely visible. For me, they are a sign of a body gaining faster than "intended," and it is quite a turn-on to see them on me or others!

My gains slowed down as I started my career. I re-gained and lost the same 30 lb, but i was definitely a fatboy by then.

Welcome to my new blog. After many years of thinking about gaining, overeating, and packing on pounds, I thought it was about time to put my thoughts down on "paper" about what it means to me to be a gainer. While these thoughts aren't necessarily original, I think having gained over 150lb gives me some credibility.

When thinking about where to start this blog, it is worth going back all the way to my childhood. I have very clear memories of being in art class in first grade with my best friend, who I guess was kind of chubby, though I didn't realize it at the time. He started talking about how he was being put on a diet, and joked that his mother said that he wasn't overweight, he was "undertall." This somehow stuck in my head, and while at 6 years old there was no sexual connection to the idea of being fat, I believe this was the first time I was conscious of my attraction to fat.

During junior high school, I began to see formerly skinny kids start to put on weight as they went through puberty. There was a cute guy who I had a crush on who became rather rotund over a year or two. In high school, there were a few guys who packed on pounds, but no one got really heavy. I spent high school trying to gain weight, and managed to put on a few pounds, but my metabolism was so fast that I only ended up gaining about 10-15 pounds. Unfortunately, my parents were very health focused, and we never had any junk food around. As a result, I would eat loaves of bread, multiple bowls of cereal, and lots of PBJ. Needless to say, it didn't do a lot, so I stopped focusing on it for awhile. I do remember spending time in the library during high school, looking at the Guinness Book of World Records and fantasizing about being big enough to qualify for it.

Once I got to college, I still fantasized about gaining, and watched my roommate gain the freshman 20. While there was no physical chemistry between us, it was rather awesome to watch. And fortunately for me, there were plenty of fratboys who spent their time drinking beer and sporting burgeoning bellies. There was a particular frat that totally focused on beer binges, and the rushees would walk around campus with their gut sticking out ever farther. It seemed as though they only took the ones who gained the most, and as they became upperclassmen, the trend continued. While I never really wanted to be in that fraternity, it did provide a lot of eye candy.

Unfortunately for my waistline, during freshman year, I managed to fall in love with my best friend, who was obsessed with thinness and fitness. As a result, I lost down to 165 pounds, and played tennis and ran. Once I realized that he wasn't into me, however, I started to overeat. I would bring a pint of ice cream with me to the library every night while studying during junior year. I managed to get up to 180lb that way, but i had no muscle mass. For the spring semester, I decided to take a weightlifting elective as a gym class, and this was my first exposure to bodybuilding and strength training. While bad shoulders limited me, I realized that getting big with muscle could be a way to indulge my fantasies in a socially acceptable way. I worked on my 6-pack abs, pecs, and lats, and ended up with a powerful physique. But always, I longed for a huge belly.