Fatter And Fatter

Let’s get fat together. Let’s stop counting calories and worrying about portion sizes.  Let’s stop stressing over how many grams of fat per serving something has and just eat and enjoy. Let’s feed each other and indulge and over eat together. Let’s sit on the couch and rub each others’ bloated, distended bellies and enjoy the softness we grow on each other as the meals and snacks add up.  Let’s explore and worship the stretchmarks and rolls and bulges as we fill out and overfill up on every fatty snack and heavy meal we want, and smile a msicheivious grin as we encourage each other with naughty things and just one more bite.

they more actively put on weight, and as they get bigger and bigger they tease me for being so much smaller than them and play w my little bit of chub and grope my belly and ass and thighs and press all their weight into me and urge me to eat more and more so i can be as big as they are.

we sit on the couch together and they take up almost half of the seating, but i’m still just taking up a little more room than one average person, and they feed me snacks all night because “imagine if we were both big enough that we couldn’t fit on one couch together anymore” and we just keep stuffing each other until our bellies are taut and full and round.

they’ll even pin me against a wall with their weight so i don’t have a choice but to feel them up and play with their huge belly as they poke fun at me for being so tiny, even when i start not to be, and continue to urge me to be as big as them, until we’re both waddling around the house and bumping into each other and having to squeeze through hallways and push each other through doorways.

You just kept eating and eating. You’ve been letting yourself go for months now, overeating at every meal. You look down at your body, and you can see all the pounds you’ve put on recently.

You’ve gone up a couple sizes in pants, and now nothing fits the way it’s supposed to. Your belly gets in the way. The rest of your body is getting pudgy too. You’ve put on about a hundred pounds and it’s all gone to your belly, thighs, hips, and butt.

You’re out of shape, because the only exercise you’ve been getting is waddling to the fridge or pantry. Stairs are getting much harder, they get you out of breath embarrassingly quickly. And even hoisting yourself from a chair is a humiliating ordeal, your fat thighs quivering with effort, your ass swaying as it’s pulled forward by the momentum of rocking your fat gut out in front of you.

Everything is an effort, even eating. You wheeze a little when you stuff your face, you eat so quickly and so fucking much that you’re out of breath constantly. You prefer to have things brought to you now, it saves you the trouble.

You can feel yourself jiggle when you move, your pants got tight and then your replacement pants got tighter still. You wear mostly sweats now with plenty of room for your impossibly big belly. And now, stuffed as you are, you need someone to take care of you, reach the bloated parts of your tummy with a soothing hand, reach under your gut to get you off.

You did so well. You gobbled down everything I put in front of you, sweet and rich. Now all that food, all that excessive eating, is catching up to you. It’s really starting to show.

You sure are a sight right now, shirt riding up on your engorged belly, pants undone and straining to contain your love handles. You jiggle as you try to sit up into a more dignified position. Your stuffed stomach protests and you wrap your arms around the gigantic curve of it.