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"diet starts tomorrow.." they breathe out heavily, with their taut belly poking out from their frame. a whole cake stuffed inside among other things.

rubbing that round belly, pushing their fingers down, feeling how firm it is from all that food inside. as if they haven't conditioned themself to be aroused just by rubbing their belly, or fingering their belly button.

I imagine him sat on the couch, growing belly over the waistband of his shorts and his tank top resting on the top of it, a hand on his stomach.

He calls out, as he usually does. That elongated baaaaabe – so whiny and desperate. So hungry, even if his stomach isn’t really empty.

“What is it, love? What do you need?” his partner asks, sitting next to him and squeezing his arm supportively.

“Can you get be some ice cream, babe? It’s hot. I need something sweet during the commercials.”

“Of course. You should have told me you were getting hot.” They kiss his cheek and rub his belly.

He ends up making through the whole pint, all past inhibitions completely gone.

so, being a good friend, the gymbro offers to be his puppet. whenever he has a craving, just feed it to him. he figures 'how bad can it be?' especially seeing as he's in shape and active, it'll barely dent him.

you’d probably like it more if it was bulging around your pants line instead of not even filling up the pair you have on. if it poked out between that crop top you wear so much and the tight elastic waistband of your favorite pants. if you could feel it brushing up against your oversized t-shirts before you’d even eaten anything. if stuffing it full of food made it look like you were actually chubby.

you’d like it even more if it was actually chubby, without being stuffed. if you could feel it bouncing when you walked. if it sat on your fattened thighs. if it pressed against the seatbelt of your car. if your clothes left it marked red by the end of the day from the sheer strain of wearing them. if it had stretch marks climbing up the underside, because of your excessive, hedonistic gluttony. if it was big enough to sink your fingers into, big enough to grab a solid handful of pure fat. if it kept getting fatter, fat enough that you’d need both hands to hold it up. fat enough that it would take hours of shoveling food down your to feel satiated. fat enough that you’d be panting after every meal.

Eating out constantly. Barely been to the gym.

Lots of pastries and deserts. Many comments from family and friends. More out of breath.

Overall I've just been wanting stuff myself and sit by the fire. Let's see how much more l'll gain by the end of December.