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i want a belly so big it hides my pussy completely, and my feet, i want it to be so large and in the way that my hands naturally gravitate to it, i want my belly to have such a pronounced shelf that i can use it as a table when im gorging myself

i want a fucking huge ass like two big cushions, i want to second guess every single doorway i walk through, i want to permanently waddle because my thighs are so thick and my hips are so wide, i want to draw stares with the hypnotic way my ass cheeks sway with each step

me when 🤩

And so you gained a little weight.

Then we got married. Everyone gains some weight after marriage. You're happy, you're comfortable, you're secure. It was no different for you. The difference was me. You thought, since you had me, you could let go, but it was actual me who had you. You weren't so much letting go as letting me take you. Coming home with cake on on a regular basis. Running out to get you ice cream in the middle of the night when you ran out. That one time I bought you a whole other burrito after the home cooked meal wasn't quite enough. And of course, ever-flowing praise and encouragement. My hands on you at all times. Orgasms after the second desert. You had finally given in, sunk into the hedonism I was providing you.

And the weight started pouring on.

You were curvy before. I always joked that the first thing I ever noticed about you was your fat ass (which was technically true, since the first glimpse I got of you was from behind while you were browsing the shelves at that bookstore). Well, once you settled into your life with me, that ass got fatter and those thighs swelled. The first 20 lbs accentuated your curves, but the last 30 has filled in your waist and turned that soft tummy into a swollen jiggly belly that's now beginning to hang over your soft fat pussy.

It hasn't gone unnoticed, and yet, it hasn't slowed either of us down. For your part, you can't ignore the fact that about half the clothes you owned before the wedding don't fit, and the other half dig in to the thick layer of soft fat that covers you. Even your flowing sun dresses that I love so much now hug your belly like maternity wear. There's a reckoning coming in the fall when the weather cools down and you're going to realize you don't have a single pair of pants that will button around your thick waist. And yet, you're less shy now than you've ever been when it comes to asking me to go out and buy you another slice of tres leches after dinner.

For my part, I get to take the credit -- or blame, as you like to call it. I just can't help it. You've got such a sweet tooth, and I, by my very nature, have to exploit it. In my defense, I haven't been shy about telling you exactly what I'm doing. How I love to spoil you. How I love the size to which your ass has expanded into and every little dimple therein. How I love the shape and jiggle of your soft belly, even if you are slow to warm up to the idea that a full belly could be an attractive trait. How I think your round face is the cutest thing I've ever seen and the way those chubby cheeks frame your smile is the definition of beauty. I told you from the very beginning that I was going to spoil you, and I wasn't going to complain when you got fat. Well, now you're spoiled and now you're fat and I am far from complaining. I'm obsessed. I can't keep my hands off you. I can't stop the praise and compliments from spilling out of my mouth whenever I'm around you. The sex is amazing and abundant and increasingly more so as your own abundance swells. I'm in awe whenever you're walking around the apartment naked. I'm in heaven when I get to feel the softness of your body pressing against mine. I worship you everyday in every way I know how. Bringing ample offerings to my goddess, while an important aspect of my practice, is just one facet.

“Get whatever you want honey”

“I’m bringing home a little treat”

“If you want something from the grocery store, just write it on a list for me and I’ll bring it home the next day”

“Do you want thirds? No no, don’t get up, I’ll get it for you”

do they look hungry? give them a nice big, filling meal and make sure they eat every single bite. you want them happy and satisfied, don’t you? if they get too full, help them finish up their meal by feeding it to them. 

they might be a little embarrassed be to so full in front of you, making an absolute hedonist out of themselves, but that’s okay. show them you love them like that by pulling them into your lap as you feed them, squeezing their pretty little ass that’s downright sinful in their tight jeans. run your hands down their sides and to their hips, over their thighs, squeezing all that new, plush skin that has their clothes clinging to them. 

when their shirt becomes so tight it starts to roll up, go ahead and take it off for them. you know they’ll just whimper and shove their face into your neck, so embarrassed to be enjoying themselves so much, but you’ll make sure they know you enjoy it. go ahead and give them a kiss before feeding them another bite. or even better, give them a splattering of hickies across their perfect neck while they chug down their favorite drink, make sure you can feel each swallow.

when their belly is nice and perfectly round in their lap, ask them to suck in. watch them blush and whimper and stutter as you run your hands across their round belly, finally landing at the button of their jeans. go ahead and unbutton them, you don’t want your baby being uncomfortable, do you? watch as they involuntarily let their belly out, sighing in relief at the extra space they have. 

Thank you for feeding me late into the night, making sure that my belly was truly at capacity before allowing me to stop.

Thank you for making it so easy to keep eating, ensuring there is always something to snack on in arms reach.

Thank you for keeping up with my ever increasing appetite, and for making certain that my portions are big enough to be filling, even as I become utterly insatiable.

Thank you for helping me find new shirts after I outgrew my old ones.

Thank you for stuffing me so much that I popped a button off of said new shirt.

Thank you for helping me get unstuck from that armchair, and then helping me to my feet when I was far too full to do it myself.

Thank you for making the act of overeating so pleasurable, and for helping me reach myself now I've grown too fat to do so.

Thank you for helping waddle from place to place, and providing support and rests when needed.

Thank you for making every pound gained feel more amazing and affirming than the last, and making sure that I never, ever have to regret becoming so enormous.