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Insolence and Decadence


Dogma

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This was on the other site but I've slowly been porting my stories over to here.

It's a hetero story, so avert your eyes if need be.

 

 

“There. Him. Pull over,” Erica pointed at the skater-boi cruising along the sidewalk. He was moving. The quite rumble of his skateboard’s wheels punctured rhythmically by the swish of his foot touching the ground and powering him on. He was young. 18? 19?. And shirtless. His shorts sagging around his waist. Drawing up on him from behind, she could see the tops of his gluteus muscles forming a tight v and showing the curve of his ass as they flexed and unflexed with his movement. As the car pulled up beside him he stopped and turned towards it. His body was young and wiry rather than muscular. But he still had tight lean pectoral muscles and a six-pack that reflected a body with barely an ounce of fat on it. She rolled down her window and beckoned him over. “You look like you’re hot. Would you like a lift?”

 

He was clearly hot. His skin glistened with sweat and he smelled. Not bad, but the earthy smell of fresh sweat on clean skin. He reached up to brush his long shaggy brown hair out of his brown eyes. She could see the damp dark hair of his armpit pressed against his skin, the cording of his back muscles as he moved. And then he smiled at her and leaned against her window, stretching out his body catlike.

 

“Why would I want to get in a car with an old lady like you?” He asked, sneering at her. “What do you have to offer me?”

 

She didn’t miss a beat. Instead she leaned back so that her breasts rose out in front of her, contained, but only barely, in a tight fitting red dress. She wasn’t a model. She was 34 and hints of her age touched the corners of her eyes. But she took care of herself. She was fit. Her blonde hair fell flawlessly to her shoulders. At 5’7” she was only an inch shorter than him and in heels she’d have an easy two inches over him.

 

“What do I have to offer,” She asked stretching her arms out to lean back on the leather upholstery of the limousine.  “Everything. And I’m sure you have something to offer me.”

 

He got in, oh there was a few words more of the back and forth, but the end was never in doubt. The driver rolled his eyes as he pulled away from the curb. The exchange was a conceit. The two had met over a month ago in exactly this way. But since then, every day or two, the scene had repeated itself. A prequel for what was to follow.

 

Decadence. That’s what her friends called it when they found out and they had found out almost immediately. He’s barely legal they had said. Are you paying him? This is what happens when you have more money then you know what to do with.

 

It was true. All of it.

 

Decadence. The ability to be decadent had to be earned first. Erica was no silly bimbo. She was brilliant. She had inherited wealth, but a nose for business and investments had turned it into a fortune. She ran her own investment company and had been dubbed the Oracle of LA by the media a few years ago for her ability to sense what was going to generate money and when. She had cash to burn and as she settled into her mid 30s she decided to do exactly that. Oh, she didn’t turn her back on her work, but she turned her back on denying herself the things she wanted.  She indulged in wine. She indulged in food. Her 120 pound aerobic fit body had slid up to 130. And when she had seen that skaterboi sliding down the street the first time she knew she wanted him.

 

He’d caught her staring at her when she was at a stoplight, with her windows down. It was the moment when youthful insolence collided with decadence. He’d laughed at her when she had asked if he was a gigolo. It was a delightfully archaic term.

 

“I prefer the term man-whore, you’re not a gigolo until you find someone worth going back to a second time.” But there was a hint of a challenge in that sneer. A dare. “Would you be worth a second trip?”

 

“You insolent little…” but she couldn’t hold the anger because he kept that cheeky grin on the entire time. “Alright,” she said. “Get in the car. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

As it turned out, after a wild night that included multiple bottles of wine, the little punk was as good as his word. He walked out the next morning, set his skateboard down on the sidewalk, gave it two pumps and was off.

 

And from there, they had settled into a routine.

 

At first she had picked him up. But eventually, he had started showing up on his own. Never completely unannounced, but sometimes early. Some times late. Sometimes she found him in her bed waiting for her. The staff knew to let him in.

 

She liked him. She liked his insolence. He wasn’t cowed like every other man she encountered. Or worse, he wasn’t pretending adoration while calculating what he could get out of her. He was exactly what he seemed, a cocky youth; still convinced that youth and a hard cock made him the king of the world. He liked to call her Venus, his fertility goddess. She countered that if she was going to be a fertility goddess, he was going to be the male equivalent. A Priapus, He let out a rare giggle when she said that.

 

His name was Jordan, or Jayden. It would be a year before she finally got it out of him. She called him Jay. He was Latino, on his father’s side. He never knew the man. His mother was Scottish (“of all things,” he had said when they’d finally discussed their parents). He was, to begin with, a compact 5’8” with a thin, tight 29 inch waist. . He had a six-pack but it wasn’t the tightly muscled abs of a body builder. No. This was wiry frame of a skaterboi. Being active and constantly on the move kept him taut.

 

His face was pretty. That was the best word for it. Flawlessly perfect skin that had managed to clear the potentially rough road of puberty untouched and hadn’t been touched by any of the imperfections of age. He looked perpetually tanned, a gift from his father. Too young to be handsome, the edges of his face still had the softness of youth. His smile pulled in a sneer that would have left lines on an older face, but on his portrayed nothing but the delightful cocky arrogance of youth. Insolence.

 

Life would eventually beat that insolence out of him, soften it, or turn it into something nastier. The future was still open to all possibilities.

 

His cock was seven inches long, as lean as he was, and he could go from soft to rock hard in an instant.

 

“C’mere you,” she reached over and grabbed him by his waist band, feeling the soft silk of the hair that grew from his groin to his navel as her fingers curled down into his shorts and then pulled him close.

 

She liked it when he skateboarded over. It was a mile from the bus stop and his youthful body was slick with sweat when he arrived.

 

***

 

“You’re getting fatter, Venus. More fertile.”

 

He had told her that two months into the … relationship.

 

It was true. She had put on 15 pounds since she had met him. It was if taking him on as a lover had opened the final floodgates to self-indulgence. At 145 she was not fat. But she was curvy. She was struggling to fit into what had once been her favourite dresses. Intellectually, she knew it was the cakes and sweats and drinks that filled the sexual hunger when he wasn’t around. But when he was laying next to her or thrusting into her with his tight body it was almost as if she could feel her body expanding to reflect the indulgence, the decadence of the relationship.

 

He liked it. She knew he liked it. Like her, he credited himself with her slowly growing body. He had tracked her growth pound by pound and knew that it was her lust for him that was filling her stomach as surely as he filled her when he came. He wanted to see how large that lust would grow. She was dominant in the relationship. She could shut off their time together like a tap. He knew too, that she wouldn’t be his patsy. He couldn’t steal from her. She wouldn’t let herself be used by him. He knew that.

 

 But she couldn’t stop the feeling of indulgence that he had created, the hunger. That was his power. And like her, it felt like she was swelling beneath him as he ran his hands across her once B, now C cup and still growing breasts. The social forbiddennes of their relationship reshaped her. She was growing, rapidly.

 

But she had smiled at him when he had noted her weight and replied: “You’re growing too.”

 

It was true. With a steady … income … he had bought a gym membership and started working out regularly. Not slavishly, but regularly. He’d started eating better. The results were not dramatic, but they showed. His abs owed a little more to muscularity than simply lack of body fat. His shoulders were rounder. His pecs a little fuller. You would barely notice it to look at him, but she could feel the changes when they made love. A spare 125 pounds when they had met he had added another ten and he was even a little taller.

 

***

 

He smiled coyly at her and then sat down on her lap facing her, his muscular legs wrapped on either side of her thickening waist and his hard cock was squeezed against her soft stomach. He thrust slightly as they made contact, involuntarily, and then holding up the grapes he let her bite them off the vine one by one. At some point, food had infiltrated their meetings. He had brought some cut pieces of watermelon one day, smiled, seductively ate a piece in front of her, and then offered one to her. She had licked her lips and opened her mouth. It was a tacit recognition that she was growing and that he knew he was a part of it and that he was enjoying this power that came from their encounters. From then on every sexual encounter included at least a little food, perhaps as foreplay, chocolates fed to her one by one, perhaps during—he spread chocolate sauce across his chest and let her lick it off—perhaps afterwards and never an excessive amount. Never gorging. But the results were insidious all the same. Food became part of sex for her and sex became part of food. Every bite she took brought memories of his touch and their moments together. Eating lunch at the office would leave a smile on her face. Snacking on dainties all afternoon left her feeling warm. He’d whispered in the ear of Jansiea, her housekeeper, to have a seamstress update her wardrobe and she had passed 160 pounds without even realizing it.

 

But quid pro quo.

 

If she was no longer going to be thin, he was no longer going to be a wiry skaterboi. She started feeding him too. That too became part of their love-making; but where she was fed sweets, and fruits and felt her body growing in response, he was fed meat and protein, creatine and glutamine; she turned her pantry into a pharmacy of supplements. If he tipped her head back and fed her chocolates during their love-making, she tipped a protein shake to his mouth and laughed when some escaped and trickled down his chin.

 

Once erratic trips to the gym turned into a twice daily routine. He usually went out, but an underutilized gym in her own palatial home was filled with equipment for his use. When he worked out there she would come in and wrap her arms around his sweaty body and feel his swollen muscles growing with her help. And the body of the skaterboi slowly grew into a thicker swimmer’s build.

 

No steroids. By mutual consent. She wouldn’t offer them. He wouldn’t take them. She wasn’t trying to create a monster and he didn’t want to be one.

 

But even without them, he grew more muscular, just as she grew heavier. If she had slid past 160 without noticing, he had hit 150 just the same and when he kissed her now he tilted his head down slightly to do it.

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This... feels new. And I like it. Light on the sex but heavy on the sexuality. Light on the muscle but heavy on its importantance to the plot. And characters that seem believable but Devine. Overall, an appreciated contribution. Thank you.

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I don't know about thet "fat women" (i guess that's where the story goes), but i like that it's growth with effort, food and growth in combination with sex.

Finally a story with some slow growth again, instead of instant growth.

Thank you

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It had been two years since they had first met.

 

“If I stopped paying you, would you stop coming?”

 

It was an awkward time to ask. Jayden was kissing her neck, his legs were wrapped around her thighs, and his cock was teasing her, thrusting slowly against her vagina but pulling back before entering.

 

He looked up without breaking rhythm, “I dunno,” he shrugged and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, his eyes were bright and when he spoke it was if he didn’t have a care in the world. He countered, “If I stopped having sex with you, would you stop paying me?”

 

And then he sat up, his thick muscular thighs, hugging hers tightly, and looked down. He had grown over these last two years. He was taller. An even 6 feet. Where once she had towered over him in her high heels, now he matched her in his bare feet and looked down smugly upon her when she took offer her heels. His waist was still a trim 29 inches, but it centered a muscular 185-pound frame.  Over 60 pounds of muscle added since they had met. His ass and thighs had thickened and striated, his shoulders had grown round and firm and his chest was bigger than hers had been when they first met, and filled with hard dense muscle. It was still free of hair but a prominent jet-black treasure trail ran down from his navel to his cock. And his nipples had grown full and plump over the last two years. They had been tiny nubs when they had first met. It had never occurred to him that they could be a source of pleasure and his eyes had widened the first time she circled her finger around one and caused it to rise.

 

Even his cock had grown. As if it were being stroked by all the illicit sex, it had stretched out another two inches to a full nine inches. And it had thickened, with prominent veins stretching up the shaft and the head swelling out to a broad mushroom head.

 

He truly filled her now, in every possible way.  It was as if his cock had expanded to match her growing body. And what hung below was obscene in its size; his balls had grown full and fat with sperm. His sack, small and tight, barely a handful when they met, was covered with jet black hair now and stretched out, growing wider than its base, in an effort to contain those massive ceaselessly churning balls. It swung heavily, ponderously, back and forth between his legs as he straddled her.

 

Even as he looked down at her bemused his muscular buttocks tensed and untensed rhythmically, and a bead of precum crested on the end of that mushroom head, as if he were just about to cum. But he had a man’s patience now to go with his man’s body, and she knew he could ride on that sexual edge for hours. Youthful exuberance had turned into an artist’s skill in bed.

 

“I like you,” he said, continuing their conversation. “I think I would still come but we would play video games, or perhaps, like an old married couple, we would watch TV together.  There would be popcorn.” He leaned down now, placing his hands on either side of her so that he perched, animal like, on all fours over her. That swollen cock swaying between his legs as he leaned in to tease her nipple with his tongue.

 

There was one other thing. He smelled. A combination of male and sex. His body seemed to radiate an earthy musk.  She had been attracted to that scent from the first moment she had met him. Now she was addicted to it. As he had grown, it had grown. It wasn’t that he didn’t keep clean. Quite the opposite, his body was always washed and scrubbed, which ensured the scent of musk was clean and fresh. But still it poured out of him. She could smell it on their sheets after they made love. On her body. On his clothes and hers. Even if she didn’t see him enter a room, her heart would start pounding from the scent of him.

 

She had grown too. As if that was ever in doubt. Her weight tipped the scales at 200 pounds. It had nearly doubled over the last two years, though he chided her that he might soon catch her. It wasn’t, as one might suppose, a sloppy weight gain. A year ago, when she’d turned an ankle struggling under her growing weight, Jaydon had clucked his tongue and insisted she join him once in a while in the gym. The gym time did nothing to thin her down, in fact the increased muscle had only made her heavier, But it had lent a tightness and fullness to her body. If her thighs were thick, at least they weren’t covered with cellulite, if her ass had grown wide and full, at least it didn’t sag, Her stomach was full and growing, but it didn’t droop. And her breasts … one of her friends had asked if she had gotten implants … because while they had swelled into a hefty—somewhere in the middle of the alphabet is all she would admit to—cup size and certainly needed support, they still seemed full and firm. Finally her nipples, and here he continued to tease them with his lips, pulling at them gently, had grown longer and thicker under his tutelage. Obscenely large. If she had reshaped his, he had taken up the lesson and transformed hers. She had struggled into a tight dress one day and headed out for the evening only to find men staring at her midway through dinner. Her nipples had grown erect during the meal and were pressing prominently against her dress. It was the food she realized, the food had awakened her sexual hunger and her body had responded. Worse they had grown more sensitive over the last two years and every time she shifted the arousal and fullness of them only increased. They were uncontainable. It was a trend she would notice at every meal …

 

She had thought of his growing cock, and wondered if some how their bodies were being reshaped to match their sexual decadence. But he had laughed at the idea when she got home and stripped her tight confining clothes away from her. Her body seemed to swell as she was freed and she knew she would never be wearing that dress again. “Perhaps it’s true,” he confided, “perhaps I am turning you into a fertility goddess, Venus.” And he had rubbed her stomach. “If that’s true you’re only going to keep growing, nice and round and full and fertile. Perhaps you are turning me into Priapus,” and at this he gently slid her hand onto his cock and let her feel it grow firm under her touch, stretching out to its then full hard, thick, 8.5 inches, “because around you I am always aroused. That’s what we set in motion when we met. And we’re not nearly finished yet.”

 

And that night, they made love until dawn.

 

This night he looked up from her swollen nipples, larger now than they had been then, “If not popcorn,” he said, continuing their discussion, “Perhaps we would go out to dinner more. I would pay!” he leaned closer again as he spoke, kissing her, his erect cock brushing against and dampening her navel with its precum. “ We would have to go to MacDonald’s and places like that. It would be very unhealthy, you understand,” his cock head traced a circle around her deep belly button as he spoke, leaving a trail of precum. “Very unhealthy.”

 

And then he sat up suddenly and cocked his head to one side. “I would have to get a job … to pay for these high end meals. But if I paid, would that make you my kept woman? To do with as I pleased?” And he traced a finger around those full ripe nipples of hers.

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As it turned out, she had already stopped paying him. Months ago. Or at least, stopped paying him merely to come. She discovered that one morning when she had looked out the window at her four-acre backyard, her expansive gardens, and mused to her housekeeper Janseia, about what a great job the landscaping crew was doing. Janseia had laughed.

“Jayden hasn’t told you, has he?” Janseia was 50 years old and had been with Erica for the past 10. She’d given Jayden the hairy eye when he’d first come into the house, but she quickly learned to love him. Not in a lustful way, though he was more than willing to playfully flirt with her, but in a pinch his cheeks for being cute even though he was now, quite clearly, a man sort of way.

 

“Told me?” Erica was completely non-plused.

 

“The landscaping company folded four months ago. He’s been doing the work since then.”

 

The yard and the gardens had never looked better.

 

“He’s been doing the house repairs for the past year too. And he’s been getting driving lessons from Leonard in exchange for helping in the garage,” Janseia added. “After he moved in last year I had to fight with him to do his laundry. He’s a good boy. The staff love him.”

 

It was true. A professional staff would keep their mouths shut when a paid companion showed up in the house, but Erica realized that hers positively doted on Jayden. He’d charmed the lot of them.

 

“What are you doing?” She’d come home from work in the middle of the day deliberately to catch him at work in the yard. He was trimming a dead branch off a tree. He was shirtless, of course, and sweaty from work. There were even a few leafs in his curly hair, which managed to look shaggy rather than long. When he looked at her he gave her one of his rare shy smiles and then jumped, not climbed, nimbly down from the ladder to land next to her.

 

“I’m not a boy any more,” he said. She noticed as he spoke, that his treasure trail was slowly expanding outwards to cover his lower abs with a short dark hair, and there was a shadow of hair on his chest as it glistened with perspiration. There were hints of stretch marks on his chest now that hadn’t been there a few months ago; they had started to appear as he pushed his body towards 200 pounds. And a few lines stretched across his deep and darkly haired armpit as well, she noticed, as he reached back to scratch his back. But the for the most part it was if the natural potential of his body to hold muscle seemed to grow as he did.

 

“I needed work to feel like a man. And your landscaping company was doing a crap job. So when they went under I stepped in.” and then he smiled coyly, not at all shyly. “I could have found work somewhere else, but this seemed perfect. I have a way with making things grow.”

 

And that was that. Now he was paid staff, with an expense account, and a taxable income. He even hired a part time worker from his budget to do the lawn mowing. They never talked about money again. They did spend more time in the yard, including making love in an arbor that he built and hidden in the back.

 

And still they continued to grow. A pound or two of muscle for him, a few pounds of weight for her.

 

The process was exacerbated when she took a month long business trip to tighten up and tour her investments in Europe. Jayden could have come, of course, but he volunteered to stay behind. There was work to do on the property and he noted wryly that he actually had responsibilities now. There was more to it than that. They had been so immersed in each other that he, and she agreed, wanted to see what it would be like to be apart for a time. It was a pause that could be the prelude to a break up or to growing even closer.

 

What Erica didn’t expect was how ravenous she would be without him. Their relationship had introduced a hunger to her life that he was both cause and solution too. He fed her when they made love and when she ate she thought of lovemaking, which had only encouraged her to eat more. But if her calorie intake had increased, it had been a steady increase of slowly feeding a constant hunger.

 

But in Europe, without him there to satisfy her, she ate steady all day and gorged all evening. She didn’t lose focus and the business trip was still a success, but her staff watched with wide eyes as she seemed to swell larger every day. Until this point, a shadow of Erica’s figure had remained. But in Europe, all of the weight seemed to settle in her stomach and torso. She was growing rounder. She was literally bursting out of her old clothes during the trip and had to continuously keep buying more. By the time she stepped off the plane in America, thankful that she could charter a flight because she doubted she could fit in coach, she had added 15 pounds to her body bringing her to a full, increasingly round, 240 pounds.

 

She wondered how Jayden would receive her when he greeted her, offering to drive her home himself.

 

His eyes did widen when he first saw her, but there was nothing of disgust within them. There time together had improved his wardrobe, but he was dressed casually now in a white shirt and designer sweatpants. And like her, he had grown during the past month. She could see it in the muscles of his back as they fanned out behind him, and in the bulge of biceps and triceps. Muscle didn’t come as easily as weight gain, but he had added five, no, ten more pounds while she had been away. He even looked taller. With the weight gain, she had switched from wearing heels to wearing flats. In heels she had been a tall 5’10”—it had made for a laughable pairing when they had first met and he has been a rangy 5’8” but now without them she was a bare 5’7” and, with her weight gain, it exacerbated her roundness. Now he was … was he up to 6’1” now? He stood nearly a head taller than her.

 

There was something of this in his eyes as looked down at her, but he was enjoying it. She could see that he was enjoying it. His body couldn’t help but display his enjoyment. His nipples swelled outwards, pressing against his shirt. And she couldn’t help but reach up and tweak one. That didn’t help. She felt his heavy cock beginning to fill and press against his sweatpants. When she pulled back there was a distinctive damp mark where his wide and distinctive cock head pressed against the material.

 

“What were you thinking wearing those?” She said moving in front of him so that others in the small private wing of the airport wouldn’t see.  Her words admonished, but her hand slid down to encourage him. Had his cock grown even larger? Thicker. Fuller. His balls hung heavy and full beneath it. Impossibly full. And the smell, she breathed in the very scent of him. He was wearing deodorant and a touch of cologne but both did little more than colour his natural musk.

 

“What are YOU thinking?” he whispered back. Her breasts seemed to swell as they pressed against him, her areola grew full and her nipples stretched half an inch and then slightly more. In her own way she looked as obscenely aroused as he did.

His arms drift around to cup her ass, she had grown so wide that they could no longer link up behind her when he hugged her.

 

“You feel so ripe,” and he leaned down to kiss her, fondling her tongue with his, “You must be starving after your trip.  Let’s get you home and feed you.”

 

She went to bed well fed that night, in all senses of the word, and for weeks afterwards as if they needed to make up for her time away. Her breasts hung heavy and full over her round stomach. Her nipples were always erect and full now as if advertising her arousal, her very fertility. She’d given up trying to hide them. Her ass swayed out full and round supported by full hefty thighs.

 

“My Venus of Willendorf,” he said, smiling at her.

 

Epilogue:

When the doctor told her she was pregnant some time later she only smiled at the inevitableness of it. How many times had he filled her? The only shock was that it hadn’t happened sooner. But it was if her body had needed to grow, had needed to become fully ripe and ready. As for Jayden’s reaction? The skaterboi she met some years ago would surely have bolted in panic at the news. But the massive muscular 240-pound man that carried her gently back to her bed after the doctor’s appointment (she could walk just fine, but he insisted) was thrilled. Insolence had turned into mature confidence.

 

There was no surprise that they ended up having twins. The doctor that examined them both noted that he had rarely encounter two people quite so … fertile.

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