Being stuffed with someone else's extra portions, chugging down fattening foods meant for another, and eating another round after round after round in someone else's place.
Watching them glide around the kitchen while you sit there wedged in place, looking like a pudding. Trying to reach over for a cheeky butt grab or boob squeeze, but you're anchored in place with each attempt at even leaning over, causing immense discomfort.
Watching half eaten food scrapped onto your plate, entire wedges of thick cut meats, more potatoes than you thought we cooked and desserts with a single bites taken out of them.
Watching her move effortlessly, knowing this should have been her belly spilling over the table, her laboured breath struggling to breathe and her belt digging into expanding waist. Watching her little pot belly filled with a fraction of what your hulking tank of a gut just lightly jiggle as she bounces around. Meanwhile, yours knocks over cups and cutlery as you attempt to haul your fatass out of the chair that's been creaking beneath you for over an hour.
This isn't meant to be you. This should be her... fatter than she's ever been, heavier than she ever was and rounder than the day before. This was meant to be her waking up, plumped up on festive gaining, and instead, you're waking up with her Christmas weight gain... how did you end up here?
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