A belly full of bad ideas

Like, it’s such a lovely concept. You finally feel comfortable enough to settle and relax, enjoy some good quality time with your partner and the result is a widening waistline, the number on the scale rising and your clothes shrinking.

A few “Let’s go out for a dinner date" and "I have brought you your favorite pastry" later and the waistband suddenly sits a little snug, your face has rounded out with puffy cheeks and a slight double chin.

You spend most of your time with your partner cuddling and lounging on the bed or couch, munching along while watching movies. Not only your life gets soft and lazy but you too. The once little pooch you had, turned into a belly that juts out no matter if you stand or sit, surging forward into your lap and jiggling softly with every move. Your pudgy hands -on which your wedding ring already got stuck- reaches for another cookie, another plate, another little sweet treat.

And the best part: Society accepts it even. "Oh, you’re just happy and enjoying life" "It’s normal to put on weight in a healthy relationship" "Your wife/husband must do their job good in taking care of you"

★ all that fat settling in my tummy, my thighs, and my ass

★ mmmf I'd be SO grabbable

★ small chubby girls deserve love too y'know 🥺

★ plus if I ate more I could totally get my tummy used to the influx of food and she'd prolly yell more at me for you sick fucks' pleasure (and mine) 👉👈

Every meal makes you more full, more content, and a little less focused on anything else. You sink deeper into the comfort of being fed, your world becoming a delicious haze.

Can you feel it, hon? How your mind drifts away, leaving behind worries and responsibilities? You’re turning into a beautifully simple creature, where your biggest concern is satisfying that ever-growing appetite.

I see you, eyes glazing over with each bite, thoughts fading away. The bigger you get, the more you relax into this carefree existence, the less you worry about anything beyond the next mouthful.

You don’t need to think too hard, just enjoy the warmth and fullness of being fed. Every pound you gain makes you feel more relaxed, more carefree, and a little less burdened by complex thoughts.

At first it was just a fun occasional binge. 

Eat until you’re so full you can hardly move, then lug your fat, packed gut over to your bed or simply lean back in your favorite chair and pleasure yourself. Have a few mind shattering orgasms. Cum your brains out. Your huge, soft thighs and that full tank of food hanging off your midsection did make it hard to reach sometimes, but that’s no worry, you just needed the right angle. 

Then it started happening every day. Weeks of the same routine. Push as much food as possible past your lips. Do it until you’re so aroused you can’t take it anymore. Rock your overfed frame with body shaking orgasms.

Such hedonistic gluttony was dangerous to incorporate regularly. 

Soon you’d start ordering more food. Your stomach just wasn’t getting as full as it used to be. Then you needed more toys. Bigger, longer, more powerful. Some days this routine would happen twice. Long, relieving belches turned into breathy groans of body dominating pleasure.

The effects were starting to show. Your soft, sagging, fleshy apron gut was easily spilling between your legs and covering what you needed to get to most. Soon you had to start making more maneuvers, or riding things to really get that release. Lifting that giant, wobbly orb out of the way became a daily occurrence. Hold it up, slip your arm underneath and into your overhang, letting it flop over your forearm while you pleasured yourself. 

No big deal! Plenty of people have had such heavy, thick, hanging guts that it covered their holes! Not a problem. 

I think the problem started when you’d combine the two steps. 

Moaning around a burger while your toys cause your body to shake. Sighing in deep pleasure while you swallow mouthfuls of meat and bread and cheese. Burping, desperately trying to make room for more as you ride to orgasm. You just needed more. 

More food. 

More pleasure. 

More.

I think you operate best with your mouth choking down a burger, and a long vibrating toy impaling you. I like when your voice is muffled because something is stuffed down your throat, but you have to vocalize because your slit is stuffed too.

Not an ask, but thought I’d try and align your before and current so you can really see where each of those lbs has gone!

I had two half sandwiches

Three mimosas

I can’t stop burping lol