Gabby

No. Strive for perfection. Be a perfect cow.

Make sure you're growing nice n’ plump for me. I want that tummy thoroughly rounded and soft. I want my hands to sink into your thick thighs; for that ass to be big and wobbly, jiggling back and forth every time you take a step. I wanna feel how chubby your neck is when I put my hands on your throat to keep you in place while I fuck your mouth. I want big, fat tits to finish on, too.

Stay full all day for me. Have a big breakfast, a big lunch, and a big dinner. Enjoy dessert and have snacks whenever you want. Have lots of drinks of anything you crave, juices, sodas, frappachinos, whatever. Indulge. Get fat for me.

Make me not be able to resist you, to need to put my hands on your body as often as possible. Become a plumped up breeding cow. Prove that you'd be a proper incubator and consume plenty of calories during your pregnancy. Show me that you’d be a good baby maker.

Once you do that, once you've grown all sexy and soft for me, becoming a perfect fuck-cow, l'm gonna breed you. I'll dump load after load into your needy, wet pussy. Filling you full of my cum, over and over again. Not a chance that I'll miss your ovulation — a proper cow like you will be the sole focus of my attention. I'll get you pregnant so fast.

I'll be slamming into those wide, breeding hips several times a day, every day. You'll be my fat, pregnant cow in no time, and I'll get you pregnant again and again and you’ll grow bigger and bigger each time I knock you up.

For starters, I’d like to get you nice and comfortable, like on a comfy couch kinda vibe. Blankets, pillows, something nice on the TV. Then, I’d like to go get some of your favorite yummy treats and put them in front of you. Except instead of ‘some’ I mean ‘a lot’. And while you’re munching away, I wanna make — or go buy — your favorite meal(s), which I will happily serve to you while you keep relaxing. And when you’ve nearly finished that, and you’re leaned back into the cushions, starting to feel full, I wanna ask if I could get you some dessert; maybe ice cream? I’ll bring you a huge bowl, sprinkled with toppings, and some cookies; I know you didn’t ask for cookies but we do have a bunch of your favorite kind so.. It’s okay if you start slowing down as you fill up, just make sure you’re satisfied and are enjoying yourself. But keep going — I wanna start vocalizing some mock dismay over the size of your appetite; surely a girl can’t be this hungry, right? There’s no way you can really be such a glutton — presses on full tummy, eliciting a soft groan — you haven’t actually been this much of a greedy lil piggy, right? You must be hiding food somewhere, like under the couch.. right? It’s just not actually hard to believe you’ve really eaten all this food so far, and are still going. Oh, speaking of… getting so full it’s hard to keep lifting more yummyness up to your lips? That’s okay, I can help you. Just open your mouth and let me keep filling it with more bites — be the greedy, good girl we both know you are. I just wanna see you keep eating n’ stretching out your stomach til you’re about to burst is all.

I mean.. You do crave the feeling of being overfilled — knowing that deep, encompassing fullness is gonna lead to you gaining, getting fatter — you can’t help but get wet thinking about it. And I love that. I love enabling you, teasing you, praising you; it’s not my fault that your tummy looks so fucking good when it’s filled to the brim with calories.

It might be a little bit my fault that you’re so fat, though. Oops.

For my closing thoughts — after you’ve done all that hard work eating way more than a day’s worth of calories, I wanna play with you. It wouldn’t be any fun if I didn’t, right? I wanna feel that belly that you’ve done such a good job filling up for me. I’ll lay my hands on it, press on it, rub it; really just enjoy how heavy and firm your belly is, trying my best to help the fullness feeling that has you practically comatose. Of course, I’ll touch everywhere, not just the tummy. I wanna feel those fat thighs and hips, your titties, maybe your arms or that chubby neck. And your pussy. I’m going to make you feel really, really good. I’ll make you cum, as many times as I can. I’ll use my hands, I’ll use toys, I’ll fuck you. Breed you. I will make you feel so good, so much more than good, that you can’t wait to stuff yourself again for me. Knowing that every single time you do, I’m gonna make you feel a level of ecstasy that you can’t get ANYWHERE else — it’ll just be too tempting.

finally the pot on the stove is empty. the conversation has come to a natural lull and the fullness has set in. fuck, when did you eat so much?

lovingly looking at them, across the table with a lopsided smile. oh you’re stuffed. and maybe a little drunk. heavy breaths as you will yourself to get up from the table and carry yourself to bed. maybe they slip an arm around your waist to support your heft- they know ~ and they love you even more for letting yourself relax.

you get cuddled up into bed, their hand slipping around your softened but packed belly as if it’s the most natural thing in the world; gently massaging and providing the softest sweetest comfort. soft burps and small hiccups slip between you’re smiling lips as they feather little kisses on your neck.

literally- just eating whatever you please when you please because you feel like it. if something tastes good, you keep eating it, even if you’re feeling a little full because you want to savor the taste.

the best meals are heavy and homey and cozy and best when piping hot, filling a soft tummy with the warmest heft.

and oh my gosh- getting into bed after one of those hot, filling, dinners? taking off your bra and your pants, slipping into the biggest, loosest t shirt you can find, and fully relaxing into the fluffy warm blankets and pillows -

soft groans of complete satisfaction and maybe a bit of over indulgence, just the point where it feels like pure pleasure. completely unable to keep your hands off your softened gut. soft burps slipping from your lips and you relax fully, maybe you blush to yourself, maybe you sigh in relief.

haze starts to overtake but that’s okay because you’ve got no where to be.

no obligations

no responsibilities

no expectations