Strong & soft Admirer

(POV WG)

You didn't think twice about downloading that delivery app. Something about points? You were always down for a deal.

Except these deals seemed almost… too good? After you ordered breakfast to your place once, suddenly you were getting a happy little ping on your phone with a half-off offer that turned your usual meal into a combo.

More food for less money? Anyone would've taken that deal. Of course, not everyone would have eaten it all, but I guess you've always had a bit of an appetite, haven't you?

You shrugged it off when it would push notifications about deals when you passed by a bakery or a coffee shop; surrendering your data to the conglomerates seemed a small price to pay for all these extra treats. You didn't pay much attention to how much you were eating and drinking, but your bank account was looking healthier than ever.

Pretty soon, your waistbands started feeling a little snug. You told yourself it was just some bloating -- maybe from that milkshake that got added into your burger combo last night? Or maybe that éclair from this morning…

You thought you'd be able to fill your days with plenty of fresh fruit, vegetables, and lean proteins. And you did, at first. Your muscles showing through more as your body fat dropped. You continued to go out and party over the weekends but kept to that strict gym routine you'd built up.

But then the work deadlines started to hit, and you stopped having time to fit your gym sessions in. You reasoned it would be fine, only a few weeks where you'd cut down on the exercise. But as the deadlines kept piling up, you quickly lost the habit or working out.

Your sleep started to suffer and you found yourself craving sweet caffeinated drinks in the morning , with a pastry on the side to help get you through.

You'd skip the canteen in favour of working lunches, finding the most convenient things to mindlessly eat whilst desperately trying to get your work done. Eventually the snacking sessions grew longer and longer before it was more of a constant snacking than a working lunch. Soon, the only exercise you were getting was walking to the work vending machine for more snacks to munch on.

And when you got home you were too exhausted and unmotivated to make food, so you opted instead of takeaways and food delivery apps for your meals and groceries. Ordering an obscene amount of convenience snacks next to your fast food order that got gradually larger each passing week.

And you stopped going out as much over the weekends, but you still wanted to treat yourself. So you'd spend your Saturday evenings beached out on the couch surrounded by beer and food wrappers instead. You catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror and barely recognise yourself any more. You'd been so determined to stay fit and lean, but now?

Now you could feel your body slowing down and growing larger. You could feel the jiggle in your hips and lower belly as you walked to your desk, large sweet coffee and a bag of cinnamon rolls in hand. You can hear your own breathing, heavy and laborious as you carry around the extra flesh. You could feel your waistband cutting into soft flesh when you sat down in your chair, hear the weak groan from it as it struggles to hold your weight. You can feel your belly sitting gently on thickened thighs. You can feel the tightness of your shirt straining against your belly, chest ,and softened arms as you lean forward to log in to your computer. You sigh, you already gave up and sized up clothing recently, how can it be that you are outgrowing clothes already? You thought had it all worked out.

They placed a final raspberry on the immaculate tart they were making for dessert and looked up to find their girlfriend standing in the doorway. She only wore pants and a bra, but they were both digging into her. Her boobs were overflowing like overfilled muffin cups. Her body had become pudgy lately, that much was true. Very different from the toned and lean woman that they had started dating.

"Like... right now? Or in general?" They said.

"In general," she snapped, "Look at me."

"I am," they said, "You look hot."

She snorted and unzipped her pants, her belly rounded out and wobbled. They tried desperately not to make an indecent noise, feigning nonchalance and going back to decorating the tart.

"Look at me," she repeated. She picked up her gut and dropped it, the fat bouncing, "Your food is too good and I keep eating it, so stop cooking."

They smirked, "Baby, I make the food to be eaten, so it makes sense that you, you know, eat it?"

"My pants are getting a holes worn in between the thighs," she said, "That's never happened before. I'm outgrowing my bra-" she gripped her breasts and then snapped the band of her bra, showing the grooves where it was digging into her.

"Just more to grab," they said, wiping their hands on a dish rag and then walking to her. They grabbed the unbuttoned flap of her pants and pulled her as close as her belly would allow. They brushed their fingers up her side, feeling the divots of fresh stretch marks on the new curves on her side. Her breath hitched, her eyes wide as they roamed over their face.

They traced along the edge of her bra, poking the fat that bulged out. She tried to bite back a whimper, but it escaped and they felt a small smile twitch the corner of their mouth. Finally they placed a soft hand to the side of her face and she melted into their touch, her fat on her face made her look like a doll. Her small double chin covered what used to be an impressive jawline.

“And what if I like you this way?” They asked.

“putting on a few”

“pigging out”

“eating well”

“letting yourself go”

“over indulging”

“making a pig of yourself”

“losing control”

But god it tasted so good, you think to yourself absentmindedly as you unbutton your pants for the short drive back home. You stayed at work late today, knowing your beloved partner was home waiting for you, longing to join you on the couch for some much-needed vegging out.

You pull up to your humble abode, belly full, but not painfully so. You heave a sigh before you suck yourself in just enough to redo your pants button before wadddling inside. “Waddling” is the only way you can describe it at the moment.

Much to your dismay, as you open the door, the intoxicating aroma of a freshly cooked dinner hits you like a brick wall.

“Hi baby! I knew you were working late today so I -”

Their words stop in their throat when they see you. You like to think it’s just the joy of having you home with them at last that stops them, but you know the truth. Your tummy is stretching rather tautly against your shirt, much more noticeably than it had been when you left for work that morning. Your partner isn’t oblivious.

“Oh, babe. You look exhausted. You kick your feet up and relax, dinner is almost ready.”

Dinner? You just had dinner! But Jesus, the look in their doe eyes would make you rather disappear into the ground than refuse them. By the smell of it they’ve been working for hours on whatever they’re cooking up, and far be it from you to let that go to waste. You do as you’re told and take your seat on the sofa afront the TV, anxiously awaiting whatever they are bound to present to you.

And present they do. A short few moments later, once you’re fully relaxed and engrossed into an episode of your favorite show, a heaping bowl of creamy, decadent pasta is planted in front of your softening face. It smells…buttery. Impossibly decadent. Fattening.

A single second passes where you think, I could say no, but you don’t. You couldn’t bear to let their efforts go to waste. And so instead you say, “thank you, baby. This looks delicious,” before you shovel a forkful into your greedy mouth.

And delicious it is. You were right about the decadence, of course. Your arteries can feel the fat, even before you swallow. You’re attuned to it now. You’ve grown to crave this indulgence, this excess. No matter how much you eat, you feel you can’t refuse another bite. Of anything. Ever.

Forkful after forkful, you feel the top of your stomach expanding, growing tighter with each bite. But still you can’t stop. It’s addictive.

“What did you put in this, babe?” you question, feigning ignorance, pretending to be enamored by your beloved’s skills in the kitchen. You’re lying, though. Inside you know it’s just that you’re insatiable, unable to resist the temptations of a warm meal.

“Nothing new, hon, I just figured you’d be hungry since you worked so late.”

You know they’re lying, too. Both of you complicit in what’s happening. You’re getting fatter with every bite you take, and you both know it, and neither of you are upset by it. The itch of your growing stretchmarks betray your façade.

You finish the first bowl, full now beyond able to ignore, but you ask for seconds anyway.

“God, you’re such a great cook. How’d I get so lucky?” You say innocently, giving your rounded belly a pat. “I’m so full! My mouth wants more but my stomach is protesting.”

It’s true. Your gut aches, but you’ve grown to crave this. This overfull, overindulged sensation.

Your partner moves to you gracefully, adorably, nothing but love in their eyes.

“Doesn’t look like you’re that upset, babe,” they say, eyes perceptively locked on your crotch. Their hand moves between your thighs and begins to rub.

And it's...so much better than you thought

so good you can't actually...stop

Until, months later your both practically glued to the couch 24/7 watching endless porn, takeout containers on the floor, bodies spilling out of your clothes, barely aware of each other as you hammer your pleasure buttons, drowning in dopamine.

Too dumb to remember why you should stop