My Best Friend, Part 1

I met Randy on the job, and the next day we were best buds. I might have fallen in love with him the next shift we worked. He’s young, well, younger than me. I’m 14 years older than he is. At 28, he’s a family man, married with three kids, a dog, a cat, you name it.

The first night we worked together he pulled up his shirt to flash me his chest. He didn’t realize I was gay at the time. My cock twitched as I saw his meaty chest thrust against his car window, his big goofy smile thinking I was having a laugh as well, but I wanted him, badly.

We grew very close, though, and I never wanted to risk the friendship by making a move. He knew I was gay, he even came to my wedding. Many of my bearish and chubby-chasing friends couldn’t get enough of this thick-set young man who, in truth, kind of looked like a giant kid. He has one of those faces that can twist itself every which way. Big, mismatch ears and fat, chubby cheeks. Lips you want to suck on. A neck as thick as a tree stump. Randy isn’t a gym guy, he’s just big. He hits the 6′ mark and is currently 310 pounds, but he carries his soft chub like baby fat, buttered over massive cords of muscle. His barrel-torso sits atop pillars for legs, and his ass… dear gods, that ass… His bowling-ball calves taper nicely into short, wide size 11 feet.

Randy is a bit of a redneck, growing up in a semi-rural area. A little more urbane than a full-on country boy, though. He likes plain clothing, isn’t what you would call fashionable. Jeans and a T-shirt… usually camouflage. Sometimes a ball cap. His feet drive me nuts. Next to my bathroom fun time, feet and socks are my biggest fetish, and his feet are amazing. His socks of choice, plain white ankle-cut Hanes. I have a pair that I borrowed from him one night when I stepped in a puddle and got my foot wet. Even though they were clean, they still had his scent on them. It’s intoxicating.

As a bit of a bumpkin, he isn’t afraid of being a little dirty and stinky sometimes. Our humor sometimes runs to the scatological, and since he knows I’m an ABDL, we often share a lot of inside jokes about our bodily functions. One time, after work, we were both at Wal-Mart and decided to have dueling dumps. Sitting side by side in separate stalls, we unleashed pure hell on the bowls below. I couldn’t keep up that night, he clearly won. He was busy pooping, I was silently jacking off wishing he was pooping on my cock and balls… fantasizing about him taking a handful of his shit, lubing my hole, and fucking me… Oh yes, Randy and I have had lots of chubby fat shit sex many times in my mind… but never for real, and I never seriously considered trying for it, until…

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