For The Love Of Fatness

If you’re seeing this, it’s because you love squishy arms~

I know you are love, how about another plate? No need to blush, I heard your belly growling. It doesn’t matter that your shirt won’t stay down. You just worry about what’s on your plate. What’s the embarrassment of waddling out of the restaurant when you know what kind of dessert I have waiting for you at home?  Indulge babe. What’s the worst that can happen? Your shirts will stretch and rise over your achingly full tummy until you’re too fat to squeeze into them. Your jeans will be to small to shimmy up those thick, wobbling thighs let alone get over your ass. But don’t worry, the bed’s still big enough. So what are you worried about baby? Come on, I know you’re hungry.

All she could think of was food. Even though it was clear to her what it was doing to her body, she couldn’t help herself. More food. It’s all she wanted. Even though she had become too fat to stand without help. More food. Even though she couldn’t walk across the room without getting out of breath. More food. Even though she could barely get one fat laden thigh past the other. More food. More. More. More.

(via Instagram)

it doesn’t have to be all slapping & grabbing & spanking & harsh jiggling. sometimes that’s hot as fuck, but sometimes we just wanna be babied & have our curves traced with your fingertips.

💖pure ball of fat💖