Tim's Time at the Buffet

Tim pushed the table slightly forward to free himself from the booth, his massive belly straining against the limits of his shirt. The 450-pound man had been at the buffet for hours, and the sight of so much food had sent him into a frenzy. He was a regular here but tonight the food just seemed to hit right.

As he waddled up to the three rows of endless amounts of food, his eyes scanned the myriad of dishes as if he had just walked in. Each time he managed to make it to the bar was like coming home over and over again.

A small family who sat only a few feet away looked at him in disgust. He had gotten six plates of food just in the hour they had been there. The man of the family shook his head as he placed a tip on the table and guided his family towards the front door.

Tim stood at the buffet table, his hefty frame looming over the endless trays of food, his plate already stacked high yet far from full in his mind. At 5'9", his pale skin seemed to glisten slightly under the overhead lights, his thick arms working with mechanical precision as he shoveled portion after portion onto his plate before grabbing another. His black curly hair was a tangled mop, and a dusting of dark stubble framed his round, flushed face. He was in his element.

Sitting a full plate at the edge of the buffet he grabbed a second dish. As he scooped an obscene mound of mashed potatoes onto one side of his plate, letting the thick, buttery dollop ooze over the edges. Next, he heaped on slices of roast beef, barely bothering to stack them neatly, their juices seeping into the potato mountain. A nearby serving spoon digs deep into a tray of macaroni and cheese, and he doesn't hesitate to pile on a portion so large it nearly topples. Cornbread follows, then fried chicken--two, no, three pieces, golden brown and glistening with oil.

As he made his way back through the tables he moaned against the pressure against his body and joints. He could hear the murmurs around him grow louder, whispers weaving through the hum of the buffet. A woman in a floral blouse nudged her friend, her nose wrinkling as she watched gravy spill over the edge of Tim's plates.

"That's just... obscene," she muttered, shaking her head.

A man in a business suit, holding a modest plate with a single chicken breast and a small scoop of greens, sneered in Tim's direction. "No wonder they have to refill the trays so often."

Tim was used to the attention. As he squeezed himself into the small booth where he had been sat his fat adjusted and mounded over the edge of the table almost colliding with his two new plates of food. Only a few inches away sat the two plates he had finished only moments prior.

As Tim settled into his booth, his overloaded plate barely fitting on the table, he took a deep breath before digging in. The first bite of buttery mashed potatoes melts on his tongue, the rich gravy soaking into the soft, fluffy texture. He sighed in satisfaction, ignoring the lingering glances from the other patrons.

A moment later, Philip, the owner of the buffet, strolled over with an easy smile. A thin man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-worn apron, he balances a fresh soda in one hand while expertly clearing Tim's empty plates with the other.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself, Tim," Philip chuckled, placing the new drink down with a friendly nod. "Good to see someone appreciating the food. But of course, you always do."

Tim wiped his mouth with a napkin and grinned, reaching for his soda. "Best damn buffet in town," he said with a cheeky grin.

Philip patted the table with a satisfied nod. "That's what I like to hear."

Philip lingered for a moment, eyes subtly roaming over Tim's massive frame. The soft swell of Tim's belly pressed over the table, his thick arms moving with practiced ease as he ate. His black curls were slightly damp from the heat of the buffet. Philip watched the way Tim's broad shoulders shifted, the way his heavy chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Something about the sheer size, and his unapologetic presence, was captivating. Philip swallowed, forcing a casual smile. "Need anything else?"

"Not just yet..." He replied.

~~~

As the evening drew on, the buffet began to empty, patrons trickled out one by one as the night settled in. Tim, still contentedly eating, didn't seem to notice the dwindling crowd. He focused on his plate, working through the remnants of mashed potatoes and fried chicken, when Philip returned a few moments later, clearing the last of the dishes.

Philip glanced at the nearly empty plate and smiled, an excited gleam in his eyes. "I've restocked some of your favorites," he said, his voice light, almost teasing. "The roast beef, the mac and cheese--had to make sure they were fresh for you."

Tim's eyes brighten, his fork pausing mid-air. "Still hungry," he admits eagerly, leaning forward in his seat as best he could but the fat made him almost immobile. "You really do know how to keep a guy fed!"

Philip chuckled softly, glancing toward the buffet. "I know it's a hassle for you to keep getting up and walking back there. How about I pull a chair right up to the side of the buffet? You can sit back, and relax. No more walking."

Tim's eyes widened, "What about the other guests." The larger man looked over the buffet. A few stragglers were finishing off their evening meals.

"It's almost closing time." Philip shook his hand through the air, "But don't worry, you don't need to be in any hurry."

The owner gently guided Tim toward the buffet, his steps slow and deliberate, the sounds of his heavy footsteps reverberated in the quiet hall. Tim waddled slightly behind, his massive frame shifting with each movement. Philip watched him, a knowing smile crept onto his lips as Tim reached the buffet, slightly out of breath. Even in his exhaustion, Tim's eyes already scanned the fresh trays of food.

Philip stepped aside and pulled a sturdy chair right up to the edge of the buffet, its legs scraping loudly against the floor as Tim sunk into it with a relieved grunt. The weight of his body caused the chair to creak ominously, but it held steady. Tim leaned back, making himself comfortable as he glanced around, still hungry. He had never been given such service before.

"All set?" Philip asked, grinning as he watched Tim adjust himself.

Tim looked around briefly, then suddenly froze. "Oh--uh, I forgot my silverware back at the table."

Philip chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned in closer. "Well, don't worry about that. You can eat directly from the buffet bowls using the serving spoons." His voice was playful, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You're a man who knows what he likes. No need to make things complicated."

Tim's eyes widen in mock disbelief, but he grins. "You're serious?"

"Of course I am," Philip replied, "Why bother with utensils when you've got all this food to enjoy?"

Tim laughed. Cautiously he reached out, his pudgy fingers gripping one of the large silver spoons. He was waiting for the owner to call his bluff, but he waited silently. Taking a heaping portion of potatoes Tim guided it back to his face and waited a moment more. Finally, he opened his mouth.

Philip watched as the larger man's jaw practically unhinged, and he heaved the portion of potatoes in. As the silky mush disappeared, the owner felt his dick jump in his pants at the sight of it.

The few remaining patrons glanced over, their expressions contorted in discomfort. They eyed the scene with a mixture of disbelief and disgust--Tim, comfortably settled by the buffet, using serving spoons to feed himself was more than they could handle. A few of the patrons shouted in audible disgust and made their way quickly to the door. One by one they disappeared into the night.

Philip didn't seem to notice or care. His focus was entirely on Tim, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched Tim devour the food with such eagerness. Not saying a word the owner made his way to the front of the room and locked the door for the night

When he returned he saw Tim struggling to reach the spoon on the other side of the bar from his seated position.

"Would you like some help with that?" Philip asked, noticing Tim's struggle.

Tim looked up, his cheeks flushing. "If you don't mind, that would be great."

Philip nodded and grabbed the serving spoon, loading it with macaroni and cheese and handing it to Tim. Tim took it gratefully, his eyes never leaving the food.

Tim continued to shovel food into his mouth, his appetite seemingly insatiable as he dug into the various trays. The sound of serving spoons clinking against the metal bowls echoed in the empty space. Philip remained focused on Tim, passing spoon after spoon every time he couldn't reach.

The owner's breath deepened as the display turned him on. He had never seen such an insatiable appetite.

Minutes passed and another hour came and went. As one bowl emptied, Philip shifted more forward. As Tim indulged in an endless parade of food, his shirt seemed to curl up over his expanding stomach. This only furthered Philip's desire for the man. The owner had restocked the last of the food supply as close to Tim as he could get it.

"You know, Tim," Philip started, his voice low and husky, "you've been working hard all day. Why don't you let me help you relax a bit?"

Tim looked up, chewing on the last piece of steak, his eyes meeting Philip's. He saw the hunger there, the desire and something within him responded. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He grabbed another spoonful of collared greens and shoved them in his mouth.

Philip stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch Tim's cheek as he chewed. "I mean, let me take care of you, Tim. Let me make you feel good."

Tim hesitated, then nodded

Philip smiled, his hand moving from Tim's cheek to his thick shoulder, then down to his back. He began to massage Tim gently, his thumb circling the base of Tim's spine.

"Lift up," he murmured. "Let me help you reach that last dish."

Tim did as he was told, his body stretching over the buffet bar as best he could. His legs seemed like they wanted to give out under his own weight. Philip's hand moved lower, his fingers tracing the crack of Tim's ass, lowly revealing itself over his stretched joggers. Tim gasped, his body tensing.

"Shh, Tim," Philip whispered, his voice soothing. "Just relax. I've got you."

Philip's fingers slid between Tim's cheeks, and he felt the warmth of Tim's body. He could feel Tim's heart racing, could hear his breath hitching.

He watched over Tim's massive frame as he grabbed onto two of the buttered yeast buns. He knew his time was running out, Tim's legs wouldn't let him stand much longer. Quickly he slipped the joggers down revealing the massive ass it encased. Philip let out a deep moan as he slipped between the large man and his chair. Fingering his own pants, he pulled out his large 8-inch cock.

The massive tool was already rock hard from the exuberate display Tim had performed with the buffet nearly cleaning the bowls out.

Tim's labored breath returned as he began lowering himself back to his set. Philip positioned his cock up hoping to hit that puckered little hole hidden between the man's massive cheeks. As Tim's massive frame came back down, the owner felt the full weight of the 450-pound man begin to crush him. Letting out a long moan that seemed to match the sound of the screaming chair beneath them both he gave himself a moment.

On top of him, he could hear Tim still eating as if unaffected by the moment. Philip wasn't even sure if his dick had made it inside the larger man or not. With all his strength he pulled his arm free from the underside of Tim's extraordinary ass.

"How are you doing up there?" Philip asked. He could hear Tim chewing before swallowing whatever it was he was eating.

"It's all so good!" Tim laughed.

Philip had been talking about his dick, but he decided not to ask again. Slowly he began to thrust upward as best he could with the massive weight of the man on top of him.

Tim let out a small moan, the sound deep and primal. "Oh, Philip," he gasped. "That feels good. This food is also so good!"

Philip laughed and began to move, his pace slow and steady which was about all he could manage. "You like that, Tim?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "You like how my cock feels inside your ass?"

He wasn't exactly sure his cock had made it inside, but it was lost somewhere in the bulges and crevices of the larger man. Where ever it was it felt amazing!

Tim nodded, his fat swaying with each thrust. "Yes."

Tim reached over taking a massive portion of the gravy and poured it over the last bit of the potatoes in the tray to the left of him. His eyes lit up as he brought the delicious food to his mouth.

Philip tried to reach around to find the man's cock, but he was nowhere close. Instead, he gripped around either side of the massive man to help support his labored thrusts.

Tim let out a surprised gasp, his body tensing briefly before relaxing against the man's deepened thrusts. "Oh, fuck," he moaned as he shoved a spoonful of spinach into his mouth.

Philip gripped Tim's hips, his cock sliding deeper into him. "You like that, don't you, fatty?" he growled, his voice low and dirty.

Tim moaned, his body shaking with each thrust. "Yes, yes I do," he panted, his voice filled with need.

Philip began to fuck him harder, his fingers digging into the man's massive fat hips, "You're such a fucking pig, aren't you?" he said, his voice filled with disgust and lust. "Eating all that food, stuffing your fat face!"

"Yes, yes I am," Tim tried his best to lift so he could reach the yeast rolls again.

Philip's body seemed to scream out in relief as the massive weight was removed from him, but he needed it back! And much to his delight, Tim came back down with the bread in his hand.

"Oh fuck!" Philip cried out as Tim's massive frame overtook him again. The fat man tried his best to bounce slightly on the thinner man's frame. Watching the rolls of fat sway and move like the ocean was sending Philp over the edge.

Philp's moans grew louder, his body tensing as his orgasm approached. "Fuck fatty, I'm... I'm close," he panted. "I'm so close."

Philip sped up, his thrusts becoming harder, more urgent meeting against the fatter man's small bounce. With a final, shuddering cry, Philip's body tensed up. Convulsing, his cock throbbed as he came in the depths of his whale of a man, his release spilled over Tim's massive cheeks running down his own thighs. The owner of the buffet groaned, his orgasm slowly subsiding.

As the adrenaline wore off, Philip sat there breathing heavily under the plus size. He was pretty sure he could hear him biting into the last bit of fried chicken overhead.

"Would you like me to move?" Tim asked through gasps and chewing. Philip shook his head no but knew the man couldn't see him.

"No..." He huffed, "You finish up."

The owner rested underneath Tim for a few more moments taking in the beautiful sounds of the fat man eating the last scraps of the massive buffet. The only thing he hadn't finished off was a few bread rolls just out of his reach.

Finally, Tim grabbed at the edges of the buffet, lifting himself up just enough so Philip could pull himself free. The thinner, older man wobbled to standing. He found himself grabbing at the edge of the buffet for support.

Looking over the leveled bar he gave a chuckle.

"Well, I think you've single-handedly given this buffet a run for its money," Philp said with a smirk. The owner tucked his dick back into his pants and zipped himself up. The smear of cum and sweat soaked the front of his pants. "If we were handing out medals for eating, you'd have a gold one hanging around your neck by now."

Tim chuckled between bites, his face full but satisfied. His laughing caused the chair to creak. "I do try to live up to expectations," he replied, a grin spreading across his face as he reached for the last spoonful of mac and cheese. With one final spoonful, the buffet was empty.

Philip laughed, shaking his head. He began gathering up the used serving spoons. "Just let me know when you're ready to conquer dessert!"

Tim's eyes widened in excitement.