George Knopf
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Doctor's Visit
🕑 Added 2024-08-01 15:00:09 +0000 UTC“Who do I have next?” Dr. Rossi asked his nurse.
“Atlas, eighteen years old, college athlete, general checkup. He’s waiting in room 2,” Ezekiel replied.
Alexandre Rossi scanned the intake form Atlas had provided. Nothing out of the ordinary; same as nearly everyone else he saw. The doctor thanked Ezekiel and headed toward room 2.
Dr. Rossi opened the door to the room and was taken aback by the boy in front of him. Atlas was unusually good looking. The type of boy you would mistake for a movie star or a model if you saw him on the street. His chiseled face and disheveled hair framed big blue eyes that sparkled with a playful innocence. It would’ve been easy to mistake him for younger if it weren’t for his physique. Massively broad shoulders slumped forward awkwardly, doing little to hide his defined pecs and narrow waist. He looked up at Rossi with a curious half-smile.
“Atlas, hello,” Dr. Rossi said in a tone that betrayed his feeling of surprise and delight at seeing such a visage of youthful beauty before him. “I’m Dr. Rossi, nice to meet you.”
Atlas smiled and nodded sheepishly. Dr. Rossi tried to make small talk as he did with all his patients but the boy was painfully shy. He ran through his standard procedure to eventually declare that Atlas was in great health. The doctor could have stared at young Atlas for hours, but there was unfortunately nothing left to discuss. They bid farewell and Dr. Rossi did not think about Atlas again until almost two years later.
The young man arrived for another check-up. The name sounded familiar when it rolled off Ezekiel’s tongue but the doctor couldn’t quite place it. He was unusually nervous as he headed towards the exam room and once he opened the door a rush of desire overcame him. That distant memory of a young and gawky Atlas flickered in his mind’s eye as he gazed upon the man who sat before him.
The Atlas from two years ago was now a full grown adult. His broad shoulders no longer looked like an anomaly, but rather a necessary frame for the beef stacked atop them. His posture was no longer slouched. He sat with his linebacker shoulders pulled back and his stout legs spread wide. His waist was no longer as slender as his youth once afforded him, though he didn’t quite have a belly either. He was settling into himself in a way typical of men as they age.
“Good to see you again,” Dr. Rossi said a bit too eagerly. “It’s been… two years. How are you doing?”
“Well,” Atlas' voice squeaked.
It was quickly apparent that his more assured posture was simply a necessity to accommodate his well-developed physique. The boy still had an air of aloof nervousness that intrigued the doctor.
Dr. Rossi scanned through Atlas' stats. He was six foot one inch and weighed two hundred ten pounds, up seventeen pounds from two years ago. It was clearly all muscle, but nonetheless this put him at risk of becoming “overweight.” The doctor’s cock stirred in his pants as he toyed with relaying this fact to the boy in front of him. Despite being a healthcare professional, he loved some extra weight on a guy, especially one as hunky as Atlas. In fact, he wouldn’t mind if Atlas did bulk up a bit further. The doctor swallowed his lust and kept this information to himself.
The rest of the visit Dr. Rossi became increasingly nervous. It was rare he was this attracted to someone, let alone a patient, and it was throwing him off. By the time Atlas left he breathed a sigh of relief. He gathered himself in the exam room before finding Ezekiel, who was keeping a wandering eye on Atlas' plump glutes as they disappeared down the hall. The doctor and nurse shared a knowing look before moving on to the next patient.
That night, and for several days after, Dr. Rossi masturbated to a fantasy of Atlas bouncing on his cock. Sometimes he’d imagine the boy ten, fifteen, thirty pounds thicker; his thighs spreading out and becoming more gelatinous, his belly curving outward and his tits sagging. He had to resist looking Atlas up online. He had to maintain a professional distance. Besides, at thirty seven years old, what would he even do with a twenty year old?
One year later Dr. Rossi took a deep breath when he saw Atlas on his schedule. Before entering the exam room he scanned Atlas' stats. Two hundred and twenty five pounds. The boy had put on fifteen pounds since turning twenty one and that fact alone had Dr. Rossi struggling to suppress an erection.
He opened the door and his heart skipped a beat. Those fifteen pounds had gone straight to Atlas' belly. His snug heather gray shirt accentuated the soft pudge furling over the waistband of his blue jeans and his bulge was well rounded and snug between heavy denim-clad thighs. He was absolutely hulking out in every direction. The boy grinned, possibly catching the doctor’s arousal.
“How are you doing, Atlas?”
“Good good. How are you Dr. Rossi?”
“Call me Alexandre, Alex for short. And I’m doing well. It’s good to see you again. Just a regular check up?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, let’s see. You have put on a bit of weight since you were here last year which puts your BMI in the overweight range. Now, BMI is kind of a silly metric, and I know you’re a healthy guy who hits the gym, but it is something to be cognizant of. Have there been any changes in your lifestyle lately?”
Dr. Rossi couldn’t help but glance at that delectable roll of fluff softening up Atlas' middle.
“No, not really…”
“It’s okay if so. I know you turned twenty one, and sometimes we like to have some drinks, test our limits.”
“I have been going out more, I guess. I don’t know, I mean I do like indulging but I do cardio every week still.”
“Fantastic, good to hear. Nothing to really worry about. Just letting you know.”
Fifteen minutes later and they were all finished up and Dr. Rossi asked if Atlas had any questions.
“I, uh, yeah I do ,actually. Um,” Atlas shrugged and began to blush. “Are you gay?”
Dr. Rossi was taken aback. “Well, yes I am, but what does that have to do with your health?”
“Sorry, it’s just, I think maybe I should go on PrEP, and… I don’t know, I wondered…”
Dr. Rossi laughed, “No worries, Atlas. I’ll write you a prescription. I do hope you’re playing safe though?”
Atlas blushed further and looked up at the doctor in a manner that almost seemed flirtatious. The moment soon passed as the doctor kept things professional. However, when they shook hands at the conclusion of the visit that sparkle in his Atlas’ eyes returned. The doctor was taken aback. He hid in the exam room for several moments, unable to confront the possible reality that Atlas was flirting with Ezekiel on his way out.
It was that day that turned Alexandre Rossi’s crush on his young patient into full blown infatuation. He finally did look Atlas up on social media, but the guy didn’t post much. Through some online snooping he learned that Atlas played college baseball but wasn’t the best player on the team. He was a local kid, possibly still living with his parents as was increasingly common these days. Still, Rossi never saw Atlas around, not at gay bars or any of the local hot spots. He wondered how Atlas spent his time.
Thankfully, the boy continued his visits. Over the next few years Atlas came in annually like clockwork, each time five or so pounds heavier than the last. He carried it well and some of the gains could have been muscle, though he never lost the paunch. Instead it seemed to steadily pack on in a manner that was almost dad-like. Were Atlas not a gay man with no kids and a boyish demeanor, one might suspect from looking at him that he’d settled into a rather conventional heterosexual life with kids and barbecues. At the very least, the doctor supposed, he could be putting on relationship weight with another man.
Eventually, Dr. Rossi learned this wasn’t the case. He was coming in more frequently, for the flu, for immunizations, for B12 shots. He and Dr. Rossi were getting chummy and the doctor learned quite a bit about the young man. For starters, he was single. He worked for an accounting firm and full time after college. He still hit the gym religiously, five days a week, but he also liked to eat and didn’t mind a bit of weight gain. The latter point had Dr. Rossi drooling with unholy thoughts.
Atlas also maintained his rather flirty demeanor ever since that day he first asked for PrEP. In fact, he only became more confident and forward with time. He held flirtatious eye contact at inappropriate times. He would find any excuse to touch the doctor beyond a hand shake. It even seemed like he was wearing unusually tight and revealing outfits, as well as taking any opportunity he could to show off some bare flesh. Benign moles and bruises were some of the many excuses he employed.
Needless to say, it drove Dr. Rossi wild. Here was this guy, an absolute beauty in his own right, but also a hunky jock who casually put on weight and proclaimed he “didn’t care” about “a little extra cushion.” It was almost too good to be true. The doctor yearned to orchestrate a meet-up outside the bounds of the hospital, but it was too big a professional risk. If anything, he would have to let Atlas come to him.
At the age of 26, several years into their “professional” relationship, Atlas injured his shoulder at the gym. It was pretty bad. Dr. Rossi referred him to a specialist who ordered that Atlas avoid the gym for at least six months, after which would be followed by another six of physical therapy. He got the sense that Atlas wasn’t taking it well. The young guy fulfilled his prescriptions through digital visits and kept postponing his annual physical, which left Dr. Rossi both frustrated and concerned.
Around that time, Dr. Rossi was feeling a bit distraught. Atlas occupied more of his mind than he would’ve liked. He was in his forties, single, and naturally put on a bit of weight himself. Ten years ago he would’ve been thrilled by the extra twenty pounds weighing him down, but now he was painfully aware of his decreasing value on the dating market. A part of him knew he should move on from Atlas, maybe even refer him to a different PCP.
That idea was immediately vanquished once Atlas finally made his grand return to the doctor’s office. It had been a year and some change since Atlas had last been in, and even longer since he injured his shoulder. Dr. Rossi eagerly checked the weight on Atlas' digital profile. He could hardly believe it. Two hundred and eighty pounds. That was a forty pound gain in a little over a year. Hell, in only six years it was an eighty pound gain.
“He’s gotten big,” Ezekiel said and motioned his hands to imply a bulging belly.
“Are you sure two eighty is correct? That’s a big jump.”
“Oh, there’s no denying that number. I shouldn’t say this, but… he was eating McDonald’s in the waiting room.”
Dr. Rossi nodded and headed to the bathroom. He had a full erection and needed it to acquiesce. It didn’t help that his scrubs were already snug from his own excess weight, which only turned him on further. The doctor splashed cold water on his face and took a few deep breaths to regain composure.
Stepping into the exam room, there was in fact no way to deny Atlas' incredibly visible weight gain. He was fat. Sure, there was a solid muscular frame beneath, but it was hidden, buried under blubber. Atlas was breathing heavily, sweat stains around his armpits and lower back. His face was shiny; puffier like the rest of him but still rather slender for a fat guy. His good looks were not erased by the weight gain; those piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones seemed to defy the bubble of fat at his waist. He had let some scruff grow in to cover up the slight double chin which, somehow in relation with his overall girth, lent him a manlier air than he’d ever had.
“Good to see you, Atlas. It’s been awhile.”
“I know, I know. It’s been a tough year. Let’s just get to the elephant in the room.”
“Your weight?” Dr. Rossi blurted out. “Not to be presumptuous.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty fat, huh? The shoulder injury really fucked me over.”
“Well, you are clinically obese,” Dr. Rossi watched Atlas' cheeks flush pink when he said this. “As your doctor, I must let you know this does increase your risk for diabetes, heart disease, joint pain, et cetera. That said, your blood pressure and vitals are not bad. So, let me ask, how do you feel?”
“Well,” Atlas sighed, “I feel… bigger, that’s for sure. None of my clothes fit,” he chuckled, “and bending over can be a bitch.”
“How is your sleep?”
“It’s good. Especially after a big meal!”
Dr. Rossi grinned.
“Sorry, bad joke. I mean I’m fine, besides getting winded sometimes. I don’t know, sometimes I even…” Atlas went silent.
“You even?”
“Sometimes I don’t really mind it. I don’t know, maybe I even kinda like it? Is that weird?”
“I-” Dr. Rossi’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t like the word ‘weird.’ Health is not just about physicality. How you feel about yourself is the most important thing.”
“Well, sometimes I worry.” Pregnant pause.
“What do you worry about?”
“My looks mostly,” Atlas looked up from the ground to make sharp eye contact with the doctor. He held the gaze for several moments before looking away. “I don’t know... What do you think?”
“About… your looks?” The doctor’s heart was racing.
“Yeah, I mean…” Atlas gripped his belly in both hands. “Does it suit me?”
Dr. Rossi took a deep breath and then put a hand on the man’s beefy shoulder and squeezed it. “I’m sure lots of people admire your looks, Atlas. Myself included.”
The boy grinned from ear to ear and blushed yet again.
“Now,” Dr. Rossi was feeling bolder, “never mind this belly you’ve put on.” He patted the gloriously plush ball of dough sitting in Atlas' lap. “Everything else okay?”
Atlas replied in the affirmative and they finished up their visit. When Atlas stood to leave he had to pull his shirt down over his belly. It jiggled a little with every motion. Dr. Rossi couldn’t help but admire the thick mass hanging there before him. The bulbous curves revolted against the clean lines of Atlas' V-shaped back. In fact, standing up it was incredible just how much fatter Atlas was in the middle than anywhere else. He had mass. He took up space. He had a certified gut.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Dr. Rossi said as Atlas exited the room, wobbling with each step.
That visit fueled the doctor’s fantasies for months. Then, after nearly eight years, it finally happened. Dr. Rossi ran into Atlas in the wild. The doctor was attending a San Gennaro festival with some old friends when he spotted Atlas in the distance. He had to do a double take. There he was, in a snug tank top that he was absolutely spilling out of, with a beer in one hand and a cannoli in the other. He seemed to be with a couple friends, gay guys with average bodies a good deal smaller than Atlas’, and having a jolly time.
“Hello? Alex?”
One of his friends snapped him back to reality. Unfortunately, he had to let the moment pass, even though every fiber of his being wanted to rush towards Atlas and say hello. Instead, he ate some pasta with his friends. Even though he tried to refocus on the conversation at hand, it was useless. His mind was plagued with fantasies of Atlas, drunk, overeating, drenching himself in caloric joy, while his eyes scanned the crowds for another glimpse.
Finally, about half an hour later, Dr. Rossi once again spotted Atlas in the distance. From afar, the boy was all love handles. His back was to Dr. Rossi as he traced behind his friends holding what appeared to be a plate of food to his mouth. The doctor led his group in that general direction, trying not to appear as though he were chasing after someone. As he got closer he could make out the way Atlas' khaki shorts strained from the pressure of his heavy buns. He even had a slight sweat stain near the top of his crack.
“Oh, I think I see someone I know,” Alexandre tried to say casually. “I’ll be right back.”
He leapt forward and felt the pasta in his own belly slosh a bit. Catching up to Atlas, he placed a hand on the man’s thick and sweaty shoulder. Atlas startled and turned around.
“Atlas! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
Atlas' face transformed from irritation to intrigue when he saw who was before him. He took a step closer to the doctor so they were nearly touching. He smelled a bit of alcohol and food while his face was shiny and flushed red from overconsumption in the heat.
“Doctor Rossi, what a fun surprise,” he purred. “You look good,” he glanced down at the doctor’s bloated paunch beneath his faded tee. “Enjoying the feast?”
“I am, I am. It’s so good to see you, um,” an awkward pause befell them as they looked into each other’s eyes. “Are you uh, enjoying the feast?”
“Maybe a little too much,” Atlas rubbed his distended belly a bit. “I’m not so good at dieting, as you know…”
“Hey, nothing wrong with indulging from time to time.”
“I do like to indulge,” Atlas took a step closer to the doctor so that their bellies brushed against one another. “Don’t you, doctor?”
“Do I, uh- indulge?”
“Alex!” shouted Dr. Rossi’s friend. “I’m so sorry but I think I left my phone in your car. Can we check?”
“I- have to go,” the doctor said with a tone of regret. “It was great running into you.”
Atlas just smiled suggestively as the doctor turned away and headed towards the parking lot. In the distance he could hear one of Atlas' friends say: “Was that him? The doctor?”
Two weeks later Atlas was back at the doctor’s office. It had barely been two months since Atlas' last visit and the doctor saw he was already weighing in at two eight seven, a seven pound gain. Undeniably, Atlas liked to indulge. He was the doctor’s final patient that day which was unusual, as Atlas always booked early morning visits. Dr. Rossi prompted Ezekiel to clock out a bit early and perused the office for life. It was pretty empty this time of day, as he had hoped. He freshened up in the mirror and took his time before heading to the exam room. When he finally greeted Atlas he had butterflies in his stomach.
“Good to see you so soon,” the doctor smiled.
“Likewise,” Atlas’ tone seemed bolder than ever. “I really liked running into you at the festival. I’ve only ever seen you in scrubs.”
This time it was Dr. Rossi who blushed. His heart was beating quickly as he gazed upon the plump beauty in front of him. It was truly incredible just how swollen Atlas had become in his mid-twenties. The absolute gut hanging off of him was to be expected of men Dr. Rossi’s age, but on Atlas it looked adorably swollen and enigmatic. As though Atlas were just full of life and desire, a shameless glutton who loved food as much as the gym. One could only imagine what he’d look like in his thirties.
“It was nice to see you out enjoying yourself as well. You seemed like you were having a good time.”
“Oh, I was. I absolutely love Italian food more than anything, except maybe… Italian men.” Atlas looked down coquettishly.
Dr. Rossi didn’t know how to follow up that overture, so, after a pregnant pause, stuttered: “So what brings you in today?”
“Well, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“This is a safe space, Atlas.”
“So I have, like, a rash or something on my thighs. Kinda around my… junk. I’m nervous it’s like an STI or something, I don’t know.”
“Do you have photos?”
Atlas shook his head ‘no.’
“Let’s take a look then,” Dr. Monstanti nodded towards Atlas' pants.
The young man stood up and reached under his belly to unbutton the denim. His belly sagged forward as he unzipped the pants and began to shimmy them down. The legs of the pants clung to his thighs. Surely it was never easy getting anything on or off that ass of his. The whole process involved a lot of movement which resulted in a lot of jiggling. Dr. Rossi could feel his cock stirring to attention.
Finally, with his pants off, Atlas caught his breath. His legs were beefy and pale, with thighs that pressed together from his crotch to his knees. Dark brown hair led up to his nether regions which were clad in crimson Calvin Klein’s. His bulge was average, if not a bit swollen given the circumstances. His belly partially eclipsed the elastic waistband with an impressively soft looking overhang for someone so young and muscular. The gelatinous fat quivered with the slightest movement.
“Where is the rash?”
Atlas spread his thighs and the doctor leaned forward. There was a bit of red but it was further back than he could see.
“Why don’t you sit down and spread your legs wide?”
Atlas followed direction, his fat ass and thighs oozing out over the paper of the hospital chair. Even in that position, his fattened thighs propped up his balls, which looked quite bulbous from that angle. The doctor kneeled down and pushed some fat aside to get a good look at the rash. With his face about a foot from the dimpled and hairy flesh, Dr. Rossi could whiff the man’s musk. As he tried to suppress his own arousal, he noticed a tremor in Atlas' underwear.
“There’s no need to worry, Atlas. You’re just experiencing a bit of chafing, or ‘chub rub’ as some people say, in connection with what looks like some fresh stretch marks. Both of these are very common side effects of sudden weight gain and are no cause for alarm.”
Atlas' cock was swelling by the second. Dr. Rossi glanced back and forth between the growing erection and Atlas' eager eyes.
“I guess I should slow down on the indulging, huh?”
“I’ll prescribe you some cream for the irritation, and recommend boxer briefs or an anti-chafe stick. As for the ‘indulging,’ uh… do whatever, um feels good.”
“Maybe I’m a bit greedy, but I don’t like restricting myself.”
Atlas' boner was now straining against the fabric, nearly fully engorged. Atlas swallowed. His eyes locked with Dr. Monsant’s and then traced down the doctor’s body until they zeroed in on the doctor’s own erection.
“Doctor Rossi?”
“Yes, Atlas?”
“Do you think you could help with this?” Atlas nodded towards his erection, now soaking through his briefs with precum.
The doctor took a step closer. Atlas reached out and took Dr. Rossi’s hand and placed it on his throbbing pipe. Dr. Rossi dropped to his knees while holding eye contact with his patient and stroking the warm hard-on. The doctor was practically drooling and after several moments pure animal lust broke through. He dove face first into the crevice of Atlas' fatty thigh and heavy balls, breathing in the rich aroma of the chubby ex-jock. He felt frantic; feral. He pulled down the Calvin Klein briefs so that Atlas' cock snapped against his gooey overhang.
Dr. Rossi put the gushing hard-on in his mouth, and laid rapture with his tongue. Atlas softly moaned “oh yes” and played with his nipples through his shirt. The doctor slurped up the cock like it was his last meal until he felt Atlas' balls tighten up with excitement. He pulled back, mouth sloppy and breathing heavily. He was eye level with Atlas' fuzzy overhang. Without thinking, the doctor pressed his face in and slowly moved it side to side, relishing the plush appendage.
Pulling back for air, he muttered: “Can I fuck you?”
Dr. Rossi stood up, locked the exam room door, and grabbed some lube from a cabinet. Meanwhile, Atlas removed his shirt and struggled to his feet. Standing naked, Dr. Rossi was impressed by the young man’s chest and shoulders. They were big, but remained firm and muscular. This was no ex-jock, this was a fat jock. An obese jock.
“Your turn,” Atlas said as Dr. Rossi’s stared at the heaping mass of Atlas' physique. “Take off your clothes.”
The doctor was so rapt that he barely noticed he was still dressed. He looked down and a wet spot had formed on his crotch. He stripped off his scrubs, and felt a mild pang of self-consciousness. He seemed so skinny-fat next Atlas. His gooey little paunch and sagging tits embarrassed him next to this absolute gorilla of a man.
“Fuck, you’re sexy,” Atlas muttered.
The two made out. They were so aroused that they barely knew what to do as their hands enthusiastically explored one another’s curves. They mashed their pricks together beneath thick bellies and locked tongues, bodies jiggling and gyrating against one another. Finally, Dr. Rossi pulled back and ripped open a condom. Atlas pushed it from his hand.
“I’m on PrEP, remember?”
The doctor smiled and kissed him, then turned the young guy around leaning him against the exam chair, his belly pressed against the torn up paper. The doctor parted the man’s cheeks, cushiony like two fluffy pillows practically begging for cock, and lubed up his pink hole. The doctor’s cock was so hard it practically ached. He wanted nothing more than to feel the plush inner cavity of the brick of muscle and lard before him.
He could’ve busted as soon as he entered. Simply looking at Atlas from behind, thick love handles furling off his waist, back muscles drenched in thick rolls, ass dimpled with cellulite, was pushing Dr. Rossi over the edge. One soft thrust and the man wobbled like a gelatin mold. He rubbed his bottom’s back, appreciating the deep creases caused by an overactive appetite, as he worked the man’s hole. In time he found the prostate, evidenced by Atlas' suppressed moans and quivering back fat.
The doctor pounded away at the spot, focusing on random objects in the room and the spider he saw in the corner, anything to keep him from coming too fast. Atlas' skin was turning hot pink as sweat poured from his body. Dr. Rossi was also sweating as he pushed the limits of his stamina, clapping Atlas' bulbous cheeks. Suddenly Atlas was shaking tremendously and tossing his full weight against the doctor. The impact almost knocked Dr. Rossi over, but he held strong and gripped the edge of the exam chair. It was hard to tell beneath the bobbling rolls of flesh, but it seemed like Atlas was coming. It didn’t matter because Dr. Rossi couldn’t hold back any longer and unleashed an explosion of jizz inside the hefty young stud. As the energy lowered in the room all that could be heard were two overweight men gasping for air.
Atlas turned around and amorously locked tongues with his doctor. He jiggled Rossi’s poochy gut and grinned.
“That was so nice. I’ve fantasized about that for so long,” Atlas said.
“So have I. You have no idea.”
They kissed again.
“What do you say we do this again, but maybe not while I’m on the clock?”
“I would love that, Doctor. I just have one bit of unfortunate news…”
“Oh?”
“I’m… moving to New York in a couple weeks.” Atlas made a nervous face. “I still, I would love to see you again though. I really would love that.”
Dr. Rossi laughed, “Wouldn’t that be the case! Well, we should clean up here, but I must state the obvious.”
“What’s that?”
“That I would appreciate your discretion about us, you know… And also…”
“Also?”
“You should… I hope I’m not being presumptuous, but, well, you should go for three hundred.”
Atlas chuckled and grinned, “Oh babe, I’m already thinking about three fifty!”
Comments
George Knopf
I definitely have ideas for a sequel in mind once Atlas has put on some weight in NYC. Also considering a retelling from Atlas' perspective.
X X
This was so good!! I just hated the ending because I wanted more. I know I can’t be the only one, but I would love a second part in the future
