Barry
By: V'Ger

Every once in a while someone came along who BELONGED to Barry. Someone who was meant to be his. Barry couldn't explain why, or even how he knew exactly, but there were just some guys out there who, he understood perfectly, were put on earth just for him...and he liked to think that, in some way, he had been put here for them.

One thing was for sure: Barry never questioned it. And Barry was where they wound up in the end, always. Take Jim, for example. Or Rory. Or better yet, take Greg:

Barry had known the first time he met Greg that Greg belonged to Barry. He knew it from the moment the little guy first saw him, that night back in May. "Barry, I'd like you to meet my new boyfriend," Jake had said. Barry had been busy talking up the bartender at the time, a young Dominican guy who was enjoying the attention he got from this giant bear of a man--but Barry knew he was wasting his time.

He couldn't say how, but he just KNEW the bartender wasn't enjoying Barry's attention in the RIGHT way. Not the way that meant someone was really his.

Even so, Barry kept talking to the the bartender, ignoring Jake. "Come on, Barry!" Jake insisted. "I've wanted to introduce you for a while...I've told Greg a lot about you."

No way to ignore that without being rude. The bartender and Barry met glares and sighed mutually, like they'd heard the school bell ring. The Dominican guy gave a contrived "maybe later" shrug, and Barry smiled a similarly forced "until then" nod. Then he turned around.

* * *

When Barry knew he had somebody, it wasn't so much the way he saw THEM that counted, as how they saw in HIM. And the way Greg, a little brown-haired nerd with a cheap haircut and furry little caterpillar eyebrows, saw Barry...that's how Barry knew just where Jake belonged.

"Greg! Try not to gape! The look on his face, Barry--I swear it's like he's seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time! He's never seen a guy so big," Jake laughed and laughed while Greg just went on gaping. "Greg, honestly! The look on your FACE!"

The look on his face WAS something all right. The way Greg seemed amazed and scared by Barry all at once...and not just Barry, but Barry's BODY. He looked at everything--Barry's hairy, beefy forearms, Barry's broad shoulders, Barry's tree-trunk legs and especially Barry's dome-like bulging gut. That look was on his face, THAT AMAZING LOOK, of wonder and fear and lust mixed together.

By the time the little guy found the courage to gaze up into Barry's bearded face and meet the giant's warm blue eyes, they were already twinkling with triumph.

"Hey there, little guy," Barry bellowed down at the fellow. A moment passed. Jake put his hand on Greg's shoulder, nudging him. "Hey, Greg, don't be rude, man! Say hi to Barry! You're STARING." Greg looked absently over to his boyfriend, and then slowly, with a touch of trepidation, back at Barry. "H-h-hey there," the nerd managed.

Mine, Barry thought. All mine.

* * *

Barry turned off the oven and took the dinner out, laying it on the kitchen's center counter to cool off. Another night alone at Barry's.

He mentally checked his progress: The food was ready. The fridge was loaded with enough to wash it all down. Yep: He was prepared to kick up his feet and have another long evening of private gorging.

After all, it was his greedy appetite that had made him who he was, and that appetite demanded attention. It was the only thing that ever really stayed with him, he realized; his hunger. "That and this big ol' gut," he said aloud, patting it absently through his green jersey.

It growled loudly, surprising even him. He stared at it for a moment. It growled again, insistently this time. "Settle down there," he said. But he knew what it really wanted, and he wondered how long it would be before it all paid off: The conversations over dinner with Greg and Jake, throwing knowing glances Greg's way (ones poor Jake always seemed to miss). The surreptitious flirting at the club, showing off not only his brashness and his almost paternal charm...but his size, his indomitable gut, and his appetite. They'd head on late night runs to the fast food joints and Barry would watch Greg out of the corner of his eye as the giant ate ten double-cheeseburgers at once, belching triumphantly at the finish--to the applause of their pals, and to Greg's downright amazement.

Barry had once even been so daring as to let the little guy feed him an entire bucket of wings in the back room of a party, swallowing even the bones, taking Greg's hand in to the wrist on the last one and letting it out S-L-O-W-L-Y. Greg's other hand resting under Barry's stretched-loose sweatshirt, on the furry curve of that ever-expanding gut, mesmerized and utterly enthralled. It was almost time, Barry knew. He recognized the way Greg's attention would sometimes wander to Barry's belly and stick there both nervously and longingly for minutes at a time. But when? WHEN?

The first time the doorbell rang, Barry didn't even react. He was sure he'd imagined it--8pm on a Sunday? He knew he WANTED to hear it, but he couldn't believe it would actually...

The doorbell rang again. This time he was sure. Eager, greedy, he trudged over to the door, reminding himself that it couldn't possibly be who he wanted it to be, he shouldn't get his hopes up, it was probably some drunk or a neighbor locked out or...

"Are you th-th-there?" the voice asked. And just the same way Barry knew from the first moment they met, he knew then. Tonight was the night.

Barry opened the door. "Hey there, little guy."

* * *

When Greg stepped inside he was trembling, terrified. Terrified because so much of him wanted to be back at the apartment with his boyfriend...or at least to be as far away from the man whose hunger and power had hypnotized him for these last three months.

But Greg wanted something else, too. And while Greg couldn't put his finger on what it was, he knew that Barry was somehow the answer. And he knew he wanted whatever it was more than anything.

The door closed behind him. "S-s-so...uh..." Greg sputtered, trying not to look at Barry's body towering over him, trying most of all to avoid seeing the hunger in his friend's eyes. "You look nervous, little guy. Relax. You're just in time for dinner." And Greg's own eagerness, for a moment, overcame his fear. He had to look up at the giant's face. He had to know if it was true: He'd give anything to watch the ogre eat.

Their eyes met, and there was so much need and warmth in Barry's glare. And something else. Something ravenous. Greg knew it was true: It was dinner time. "Take a look," the giant said...and led the little guy into the kitchen.

Greg immediately noticed the huge roast turkey on the counter, freshly cooked. "Oh, wait...have you...were you expecting visitors?" Greg asked. Barry chuckled, that deep-throated "heh-heh-heh" of his, melting Greg's resolve even further. "Nope. That's all for me," Barry admitted, faking a sheepish smile. Greg gave Barry a look of disbelief. "ALL THAT?! That bird's the size of a goat! You were going to eat all that TONIGHT? You gotta be kidding..."

Almost there, the giant thought.

"It's no joke," Barry sighed. "Bones and all." The giant leaned nonchalantly back against the wall opposite the counter, so that his belly stuck out even more unbelievably, stretching his jersey and peeking out from below the shirtline. "Guy like me..." Barry cocked his head to the side a bit and eyed Greg up and down. "...Gets kinda hungry."

The boy was oblivious to the look--he was busy looking back and forth between the bird and the belly. Guess he's right, Greg thought. Plenty of room in there. And what else would a guy the size of Barry eat? What else...? Greg looked back and forth between the bird and the belly again, and then finally focused on the gut. He found he couldn't stop staring at it.

Barry smiled at the little guy's helplessness, pulling his jersey back all the way to help his friend's urges along. Further exposing the furry bulge, the deep belly-button. Greg began breathing through his nose desperately.

Almost there, the giant thought again.

Greg came closer and put his hands on the monumental, furry dome gut that rose before him, resting his palms on the boulder...while the giant's beefy arms pulled the jersey clean off the rest of his broad form, and tossed it in the corner. "Don't need that dinner bird now though," Barry gruffly admitted. And he gently used the weight of his gut to nudge the little guy back into the counter...step by step.

"W-w-why not?" Greg asked, pinned between the counter and that massive midriff. Then it happened: A loud, voracious growl from the giant's belly that was louder...and deeper...than Greg could have ever imagined.

Greg started visibly, and looked up into the eyes of the giant, which were now both warmly welcoming and fiercely hungry.

"Today is a special occasion," Barry drawled, grinning. And just like that, it was time.

* * *

There was a clatter as the giant swept the turkey off the center counter, replacing it with the startled Greg, who didn't know what to do or what was going on; he started tentatively licking at the man's nipples, and actually kissing the gut, confused.

It would normally have made Barry laugh, but somehow the feeling drove him mad, made him work even faster--undressing the little guy expertly, marveling at how well-built the twentysomething really was as his button-down was swiftly torn off, his T-shirt slipped away, his buckle undone. He hadn't quite gotten the little guy's socks off when it just became too much for him to bear. The boy didn't belong on the outside of Barry--he belonged where he had ALWAYS belonged.

Barry opened his bearded mouth wide and said "Aaaaahh!" while his paws tightened around the little guy's arms...and led Greg's head straight inside. Greg misunderstood the gesture and continued kissing, this time trying to kiss the giant on the lips...until his head was past those lips and Greg found himself kissing the moist inside of his friend's mouth.

Before Greg knew it, he was staring into uncertain darkness at the back of his pal's throat and feeling those furry lips close around behind his neck. But not tightly--lovingly. Barry tasted Greg for the first time since his feeding at the party, and he savored the satisfying saltiness of his friend.

Greg was too confused to struggle very much at this point. He just started to shift tentatively as his body struggled to adjust to the unusual situation. He tried to look around but found his surroundings dark and dank. Where was he?

Barry knew that he had to take advantage. He stole the chance to take his first proper gulp, swallowing Greg in up to his elbows while firmly thrusting Greg's body in by the waist. The little guy was almost halfway inside Barry now, and the only way to go was down.

The only problem was Greg's arms were pinned, and his head was already being gripped by the peristalsis in the giant's esophagus, firmly massaging him and gathering him home. Greg started struggling frantically. It was real now for him, and so was the reality of what Barry had been doing to him all along: Seducing him into becoming a permanent resident of his massive, greedy body.

The giant grabbed the little guy firmly by the thighs and gave another gulp/thrust that sent his pal inside even further, up to his midriff. Greg squirmed as Barry's beard tickled his abdomen, and the giant slipped his wide tongue out over Greg's fully erect penis to play with it.

But why was he hard?! Why did it feel so good to have the greedy warmth of Barry's tongue on him, KNOWING he was being tasted. It was the first time Greg had really noticed how much he was enjoying this. How much he wanted it. How could that be possible? All he felt was fear and panic, but...it did...if he let it happen...it did feel so good too...it felt so right...it was where he belo...

Rough hands around his ankles then, giving another harsh thrust as Greg began, uncontrollably, to come. He spewed jissom into the giant's mouth as his ass disappeared inside the bearded mouth, and the peristalsis took over in full force. Greg's body eased down the giant's throat like a sinking ship, thighs disappearing, knees, ankles. (Inside the stomach, more and more of Greg was arriving, sputtering and moaning as his body spasmed in this strange embrace--his hands and head already coming to rest in the tingling warmth and wetness of his new home.)

But it was all too slow for the giant. He wanted Greg now, to have him completely. So Barry wrapped his mitts around his pal's feet, whipped off the socks, and then shoved him all the way down with a final thrust/swallow.

And the little guy disappeared, with a very audible last gulp, while the giant came and came and came. Down deep inside, Greg arrived completely, in a place that was as warm and eager as Barry himself.

* * *

In the kitchen was a single man standing where two had stood only two minutes before, his furry, well-rounded gut bulging considerably with its new prize. The belly, stiff with girth, came to rest on the counter--and Barry rested his hands on it, opening his eyes for the first time since he had begun bringing Greg home. He was exhausted, covered in sweat, dripping.

He needed to rest while he digested.

With significant effort, he pried himself off of the counter and lumbered into the living room with his paws resting on the gut. His cock trailed ropy after-cum, still pumping onto the linoleum. But it wasn't over, he knew. And he was anxious to enjoy the final stretch. He could already feel the furtive, confused fumblings of his new resident below his hands, in his stomach. He would feel them even more clearly in a few moments.

Barry entered the living room and reached down, easing himself back onto the couch, then leaning back and watching that great gut rising up before him. And when he had replaced his hands on the bulge, he let it out: The deepest, most triumphant belch he'd ever emitted.

Greg's new cel closed more tightly around him, and he begin to squirm anew; though even while he shifted nervously in the darkness, he also felt remarkably snug, remarkably welcome. Despite his fear, the warm fluids stonging his skin, and the thundering heartbeat of this man that he would soon become a part of...he knew he was finally home.

Barry let himself enjoy the futile squirms. It was the best part, after all. The best part: Knowing that the little guy was inside there. Becoming part of him, like all those other guys before. Finally Greg was where he had belonged all this time, all his life. Where he was born to be.

Instinctually, Barry's right hand eased down under his gut and gripped his still-bulging cock for another round of stroking, while the giant gulped a little air so that his friend would last a little longer.

As long as he could MAKE him last. As long as it took. Until there was only Barry again...and the hunger.

The End