Lazy blobs

Bigger. That's all I want, is to be bigger. To be able to consume more and more calories with each passing day, to shove even more food into my chubby little face until I can't take it anymore...and then some. I want my belly hanging down past my thighs; it already hits the floor when I'm on my hands and knees, so it shouldn't be too long now, should it?

I bet you've never met such a greedy girl before, have you? I bet it shocks you as to how much I eat every day, how quickly I've fattened up in such a short amount of time, how much more I still want - no, need. I'll forever need more, I'll always want to grow bigger, not just for you, but for my own fantasies living in my head.

Just imagine it! My arms the perfect jumbo pillows to rest your head, my tits propped on top of a heaving ball of lard I used to call a flat stomach, my thighs so fat-filled that I can't touch myself anymore and the cutest little face on top of it all, almost unrecognisable from how massive you've made me. My chubby little feet won't have touched the floor in months! I mean, you wouldn't expect me to waddle over to the fridge and get my own snacks, would you? You wouldn't be so cruel...right? I hope you'll be waiting on this giant blob girl hand and foot, massaging every single roll in sight and playing with my pussy every time I eat just to make stuffing my gut even more pleasureable.

Though, I suppose it could be fun, watching me heave myself off of the sofa. I can see it now, bright red in the face before I've stood up - I'll take the tiniest little steps, rolls upon rolls slapping against each other and jiggling with every breath, let alone movement. Look at me, such a helpless, brainwashed, wheezing pig that all I can mutter between breaths is one word.

More.

More.

More.

I'm begging you, please.

Happy tummy Tuesday!! Who doesn’t love getting their tummy played with heheh!!

gluttony

noun

glut·​tony / glə-tə-nē  

1.

: excess in eating or drinking

2.

: greedy or excessive indulgence

3.

Opposites attract and with each shovel full of food down that greedy throat of yours the attraction becomes stronger.

Me:
5’5” of tight, delicate, untouchable curves.
Small hands, sharp collarbones, legs that could run forever.

You:
Bloated.
Lard-laden.
A heaving, quivering mountain of softness that can barely move without a groan.

I can still slip through doorways without thinking.
You have to turn sideways… and even then, the frame protests.

I fit in your lap like I belong there.
You’d crush me under all that glorious weight if you tried to sit on me.

I’m the temptation you’ll never touch.
You’re the surrender you can’t escape.

And the best part?
The more you grow, the hotter that contrast gets.
The more impossible it becomes.
The more you ache for it.

So keep eating, piggy.
Make that bloated frame even bigger.
Make the difference between us even more unfair.

I love how small I stay while you become everything soft, heavy, and helplessly mine.