She Wants A Big Belly Boyfriend

Gaining Snapshot!

A face full of belly just how Rex likes it!

Rex had planned it months in advance; a surprise trip to Paris. Lola didn’t even know where they were going until they were soaring over the Atlantic in first class, her plump body sinking luxuriously into the wide seat, already nibbling on a third warm croissant with clotted cream, her belly brushing the tray table.

They arrived at Hôtel du Marais Gourmand, a boutique hotel nestled between a centuries old patisserie and an award-winning fromagerie. Their first stop? A walking food tour of the Left Bank, which quickly devolved into a sit-and-devour tour. Lola waddled from stall to stall, barely able to finish swallowing a wheel of brie smeared on hot baguette before being handed a cone of duck-fat fries dusted with truffle salt.

Every bite made her swell. Her high-waisted black pants (new and allegedly “stretch-fit”) were pushed to their limits by early afternoon. The waistband carved a harsh line into her overfed middle, cutting her gut into two heavy tiers.

By the end of the day, she was too stuffed to stand on the metro without swaying. She clung to the pole, moaning softly with every turn, every jostle sending ripples through her bloated midsection. Rex could hardly breathe from how turned on he was.

The next day, Rex booked a reservation at La Ravissante, a tasting-menu-only restaurant that Michelin reviewers had claimed could “ruin all other food.” He made a special note to let them know Lola would be dining extensively.

Lola put on what was supposed to be a flowy floral sundress, though the fabric barely held over her belly. Rex watched her tug the hem down repeatedly on the way to the table, knowing it would be even tighter after the meal. Lola tried to cross her legs and failed, so she let her thighs spread, unapologetic, settling into her chair like a queen awaiting sacrifice.

Course after course came out. Foie gras with pear compote. Lobster bisque poured tableside into a thick buttery crust. Duck confit with preserved cherries and bone marrow. Then came the risottos, two different kinds. And after that, a thick cut of steak béarnaise that she moaned over, chewing luxuriously, eyes fluttering.

Rex wasn’t hungry. Watching Lola eat was sustenance enough.

“More,” she whispered to him after the final dessert (a hazelnut mousse filled with liquid chocolate) had disappeared into her swollen gut. “I want more.”

Her belly was ballooning out then, skin stretched taut, folds fighting for space. Rex didn’t hesitate. He ordered the entire cheese trolley to their room…..