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Like, the more you eat, the bigger your stomach expands, the more you can eat in the future.

The more you overeat, the bigger your portions will become, and the more often you'll feel hungry between meals.

The more you snack, the more often your body will 'expect' to be fed.

The more fast/junk food you eat, the more often you'll feel cravings for those foods.

The fatter you grow, the less you'll be able to exercise. You'll be too big, too heavy, too tired to move yourself around. Your arms and belly will get in the way of themselves. Your body will lose its strength and tire out easier, faster. Meaning exercises become shorter, less effective. More daunting.

The fatter you grow, the less you'll WANT to exercise. All those lazy habits will add up, and you'll prefer to do something sedentary instead. The less you exercise, the easier your body will grow fatter, and the harder it will be to lose weight.

It's like... Once you start gaining weight, your body sets off a snowball effect to become even larger, even faster, and... and...

You know the kind. The ones that casually start a tumblr just to like and reblog stuff about gaining. Yeah, I like the belly I've noticed on myself too - but I'm not like these obvious feedees. I have self control. I know how to say no to an extra snack. To stop eating after 8pm. My clothes are tight right now - if I let myself go I'm going to need to buy the next size up in both shirt and pants. So yeah. I got this under control. I have to.

I'm becoming that person. Yeah, I just ate dinner, but I need my dessert right away. A cookie now. Some gummies later. Then a cup of cereal. And 3-4 scoops of peanut butter just before bed. Look, the gaining thing is hot. I've been having fun just feeling good about my fat. Feeling turned on by my fat. Besides, winter is coming. I joke to people that it's 'fat boy fall'. We all gotta store up, right?

I'm becoming that person.

I can't get off unless I'm envisioning myself getting fatter. Sometimes it's a montage over the next year, imagining my soft body through various stages. Various pants sizes. Popped buttons. God, I want to burst out of my clothes with fat. Other times, I imagine a magic force making me gain all at once. I think of overflowing my clothing. When I bend over these days, my love handle stick out. Sometimes I stand up and my shirt goes with me, exposing a sliver of my widening belly. But I can't let it get that far. I buy a funnel from the store down the street. Just for the thrill. I'm not going to use it.

I'm becoming a fat person.

I stare at myself in the mirror and tell myself I don't look that big. I still fit in the same shirts I did a year ago. Well... "fit". They are tighter. The waistband of my jeans rolls over on itself, straining to keep in my widening girth. Girth. People would use that word when thinking about me. I stare at the XL undershirts and size 42 jeans in my online shopping cart. I close out the window. That can't be me. I can't let that be me. Besides... I like how tight my current jeans feel. When I burst the button, then I'll have earned those new jeans.

I am a fat person.

I want to see her slowly lose inhibitions as the drugs take over her brain and she becomes too horny to care that I’m there.

I want to see her go from eating one bite at a time to shoving food down her face and moaning while she does it.

I want to see her sneak and play with her gut while she thinks I’m not looking.

I want her to burp and laugh it off like each one doesn’t make both of us wetter.

I want her to pull her shirt over her gut every 5 minutes.

I want her to raid the fridge after her huge meal… and snack… and a sweet treat… and a little bit of my food.

I want her to ask me if we should order some more food, knowing she really shouldn’t.

I want to playfully tease her about how much she ate already and I want it to embarrass her. And I want that embarrassment to fuel her hunger and arousal.

I want her to order more anyway, knowing she’s gonna feel like shit for letting her body get to the point of not even being full after filling her gut with pounds of food.

I want to tell her to order me something too so she won’t feel as bad, knowing I won’t be eating it. Why would I want to ruin my body by eating two meals when she’ll end up eating it anyway?

I want her to go to the bathroom while she waits to admire her new growth and masturbate.

I want to interrupt her right before she’s done so she can get the food. She won’t like the interruption but at least she can stuff her fucking face, so that’ll shut her up.

I want her to look at the massive amount of food in the bags and get horny.

I want her to keep eating even when she’s full. She knows it’s too much but… she’s soaking. And she has me for an audience, so obviously she has to finish.

I want her pussy to pulse every time she chews.

I want her to pull her shirt up, just a little bit. Again, thinking I didn’t notice.

I want her to go back to the bathroom when she’s done and finish off what she started.