fattythirst

And it looks like she brought him food! Good thing he’s not completely full,, yet

Imagine snuggling up to this body and grabbing all this softness, maybe even giving it some good jiggles!!

A buddy of mine asked me to come over and help him set up his house, as he just moved. I said yes (as any friend should) and we worked for a few hours straight. 

His wife is quite the cook. She’s made us countless lovely meals that are by all accounts quite lavish: plenty of fresh vegetables and herbs, finely cut and marinated meats, perfectly prepared noodles or rice or soup, and even at times delectably indulgent desserts. They are a modest family but often there is enough to eat seconds or thirds if one desired, and she has often welcomed or encouraged it, as that is how she was raised. 

Last night she made a huge pot of noodles and sausage and cut vegetables, even with fresh spices and homemade sausage. Truly some of her best yet. I helped myself to 4 portions or so…there was tons and only 3 of us, and no one was in the kitchen when I got mine. 

I sat down at the table and got to work. It took deliberate effort by the end of my absolutely piled plate to finish it all. My poor gut was so filled up I had gotten to a point where I was having to hide my heavy breathing. Luckily both my friend and his wife were preoccupied with a phone call and the tv, so I could gorge with little fear of being noticed. I finally finished it all. I took a deep breathe and just kinda zoned out in a blissful, food induced daze. I was quickly snapped back to reality by her. She sort of just appeared out of nowhere to get my plate. 

She asked if I liked it. I said it was great. She asked if I wanted more. I was looking down to grab my plate and hand it to her. I struggled to find a nice way to say I was so full I couldn’t have anymore, and then I looked up. She was almost…frowning? Maybe pouting? I couldn’t bear the thought of turning her down then, she looked so distraught…so I said sure. 

She practically jumped forward to take my plate, and she was beaming. A big smile flashed on her face and she expressed how thrilled she was to get me some more and that I liked it so much. 

I could hardly imagine eating any more. My stomach was already packed full. I absolutely dreaded her return. In just a minute or two she came back with my plate, and dear goodness it was stacked. She had chosen the choicest slices of meat and more than I got the first time as I was being modest with something such high quality. She had given me the nicest looking vegetables, and plenty of the fresh herbs. She even made sure my noodles had plenty of sauce. I was shocked. It was easily rivaling the portion I got earlier, but she chose so many delightful pieces of everything. With an excited, grateful word she set my plate in front of me. She was smiling ear to ear.  I had no choice now.

I said thank you and accepted my fate. Every forkful was laborious. Every mouthful tougher to swallow than the last. My mouth was overwhelmed with wonderful textures, flavors, and shapes. Truly this was the best plate you could’ve gotten. Yet I could barely stomach it. I ate so much of my own accord earlier that I ruined this finely prepared second portion. What should have been a happily welcomed indulgence was now practically a punishment. Slowly but determinedly I stuffed it all down. The chewing was just getting to hard. Not because it was tough or poorly done, but because I had eaten so much that my jaw became fatigued. 

Finally it was all inside me. I finally ate it all. Nothing remained on my plate, and I could barely imagine getting up. I sat there at the table, focusing on my positively swollen gut. I felt it strain my shirt differently, and my body was starting to focus all its reserve energy on processing all this food. 

I grew more tired then I had been. Food was supposed to be rejuvenating after a break from work, but I had now eaten so much I was starting to fight off sleep. 

Eventually I got up, and lugged my heavy belly back to work. I was so full I had to focus on breathing normally and annunciating  my words. My belly was this hefty, sagging sack of lard on the bottom(like usual) but the top was jammed full of simply too much food, and it had stretched and distended so far that my 5XLT shirt was starting to look a little tight in the middle. 

My choices finally caught up to me. My unchecked gluttony was finally taking its toll. I was being inadvertently punished for pigging out so intensely. 

Being this fat and getting fatter = happiness!

XL Family: Father's Day

Becoming so soft. Squeezable. Fat.

Overburdened by your own mass.

You’re so huge. So fat, you’re a mess. My mess, I might mumble, pressing kisses on your fat rolls as I squeeze them one after another.

You lay down, and the rolls move, undulating erotically, burdening you. Pushing you down into the mattress. Fuck me, that’s gorgeous. The way your breathing gets wheezy and shallow. There’s just so much of you now.

There’s so much of you to touch now that you’re soft all over. A perfect target for my tender affections.

And for my mouth to press little kisses on.

Such a good boy for me, I remind you each day.