#fat!joel

Its as though before Joel wasn't really giving himself the right kind of nutrients. Just eating enough to get by, not really paying attention to vitamins or fats or anything.

When he looks in the mirror now, he feels... good. In a very odd sense. With his near beer gut middle pertruding out, he would not even come close to "fit" physically, though his line of work still gets his heart pulsing and muscles flexing better than most his age. But the sheer effort it takes to get up, the way he lumbers and feels the weight of himself shift...its like his ego is blooming physically. He's a bigger man for it.

Joel tucks his hands underneath the swell, giving himself a good lift. Shit, he really has gotten thick. Bouncing lightly on his heels , he turns to his side in the mirror just to see the vast amount of space his profile now takes up.

It makes his loins ache. Especially how you were begging him to fuck you missionary, feeling his new body up and caging you beneath him with no room to escape but to take it all...

Hes gonna get a boner before dinner even starts.

He's gotta say, beastmilk was like super serum, and not just for babies but for grown men too. Now that he was bigger, that also meant a bigger man with a bigger appetite. and you were very happy to indulge.

Joel plops down heavily at the dinner table. You had been chopping some taco ingredients and marinating chicken all day, so he was exceedingly excited for dinner. rubbing his hands together, you set down his plate of 10 warmed tortillas and enough fixings to feed a large family.

He smiles back up to you as you stroke his rosy cheeks. "There's more on the stove if you run out, I'll heat it up for you."

He kisses your palm. "You're so good to me."

you giggle and take your seat. "Eat up, big boy."

And he did. Joel woofed down 8 tacos easily in the first few minutes, grease and bits of melted cheese dribbling down his fingers and wrists before slurping it back up and sucking his digits clean. You ended up making half dozen more before he started to slow down, adjusting himself in the chair.

Joel coughed, raising himself uncomfortably then sitting back down with a wiggle. "Shit, m'gettin--kinda full."

"Don't force yourself, baby, when you're done, you're done--"

Instead, your husband leans back in his seat, his tightened flannel shirt riding up his ridiculously pronounced belly. he skillfully slits hiis fingers below his pudge, and the click of his belt comes undone, followed by a relieving pop of his jean button. "ughghhyeah--" he groans, his belly, no longer restrained, doing the rest of the work by forcing the zipper down fully so that all his extra stuffed gut can breathe.

Your jaw is still open, eyes refusing the depart as you watch it bounce and settle. He's a little proud of himself by your dumbfounded look, smirking and wiping his mouth with a napkin. He gives you a show by sitting up and letting you marvel at the little extra jiggle.

"What? I like ya cookin," he chides, getting you to blink and resettle your focus a little higher again. It doesn't help how blown wide your pupils are, the way you shift and clench your thighs. His eyes glaze down your body, licking his lower lip slowly as if he's about to have his main course. Palming his growing bulge, he grunts, "How bout desert?"

"I--made--made you--uh--" your face was warm, legs squeezing together, unable to stop your gaze from drifting downward every so often at the enormous swell in the middle and his brazen display of pants drawn open at the dinner table.

Joel's large chunky hand glides up along your thigh, the heat of it making your insides churn deliciously. he keeps riding it up, up, up, under your little shorts and towards your center.

"Can ya spread for me? Always make me such nice things to eat. Can't stop eatin what ya put in front of me. Wanna give this one a taste," he whispers darkly.

You part your legs as two fingers slither through your soaked folds. Despite your gasp, you spread wider, letting Joel play and pat your wet juices. He curls his fingers inward, scooping some of your arousal before withdrawing and shoving the sticky solution into his mouth with a moan.

"mmmm oh babygirl, that's so sweet," he hums, eyeing you from the side with a devious smirk as he boldly licks and sucks his fat digits clean. He smacks his lips with each one, savoring the salty tangly flavor--the best taste in the whole world.

"Ya said you made me somethin too?" he asks softly, rocking back and patting his belly casually as if he wasnt just fingering you under the table and sucking your juices clean.

"i--cookies..." you choke, wondering why you feel so empty now. "I wanna feed you cookies."

He shurgs and gestures for you to get on with it, and you don't wait a second. Stumbling into the table slightly before gathering the fresh warm plate you had just baked from the oven.

Joel claps his hands together like a giddy child. With his legs spread wide, you straddle his thighs, your stomached pressed against his lower belly. He wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you flush, whining as the hardened, wet print of his clothed cock kisses your warm pussy.

"Take this off." He helps you shuck off your top, leaving your swollen breasts exposed. "oohhh yeah..." he rolls his tongue, clicking at the beautiful sight of you naked on his lap. You can feel his hands instinctually take their place on your tits, cupping and massaging them in his beefy grips.

You giggle, moaning a little before taking a larger chocolate chip cookie and presenting it to his greedy lips. Joel opens his mouth as wide as possible with a dramatic "aaahhh" as you slot it in for a generous bite.

"Milk n' Cookies!" he grumles through his chewing.

You tilt your head in confusion , were it not for the way he opens his mouth again, a few crumbs spilling down your chest, ducks his head lower and latches on to your breast.

"mm--mm--mm" he hums loudly between each gulp of your sweet milk.

"Fuck," you whisper, closing your eyes. Your hips work on their own, grinding down on his bulge to relieve the pressure that was building in your stomach.

He pulls away with a pop, kissing the little pebble of milk left from your nipple. "How bout Milk n Cookies with a good ol cockwarm for me?" he suggests, gripping your hips and humping you harder against him.

"Ah huh," you babble, using your free hand to pull his cock from his boxer slit and shove it underneath your shorts, aligning to your slit.

"There we go-that's it baby--that's it--sink right down--thereyago!"

You both sigh contently. With his stomach and your cunt filled to the brim, you kiss his nose lovingly before getting back to his cookie munching and titty sucking routine. all while slowing bouncing on his throbbing member.

"Joel--I can't--can't do it--"

he finishes his last swallow of your milk before helping set the plate down on the table behind you. "Ya did it, baby. Let Daddy take care of the rest."

He plants his feet flat on the floor, leaning back slightly, gripping your ass and thrusting upwards.

you fall forward, a moaning, useless mess as Joel uses you like a little fleshlight.

Sweaty and pressed fully against his large frame, comforted by the extra fat now built there, you hug him tightly as he pounds up into your squelching pussy.

"Like that, huh? Like gettin me all fat, every fuckin' day, just so you can sit on my cock and ride me?"

Yeah! Yeah fuck--fuck yes Joel--love it, love you so much!"

"Yeah? Everyone keeps askin me what I been up to, gettin this big. told em my wife feeds me, s'all. Think they're jealous, baby. They want a good little housewife who lets em suck her fat tits all day fill them up. Ain't sharin ya with no one."

You nod into his shoulder, cross eyed and too blissed to answer anymore.

"Joel forces his thumb into your mouth. Saliva and drool coat it sloppily before he draws away and spanks your ass cheek, smiling as it jiggles. The room is filled with skin slapping and your babbling pants.

His thumb brushes over your butt, inching closer to your other unoccupied hole. He presses down with the tip, the pressure againdt the rim of your hole sends jolts of pressure. Theres a moment of panic that settles over you: Joel was always blessed with strong, delft large fingers. But since his bodily change, they've only gotten proportionally thicker, ans that means extra stretch for you. He works around in circular motions before being able to slit inside, guiding you up and down with his thumb in your ass as anchor.

"Tommy even makin' comments. Kid thinks he knows shit. Told em, I said I was eating pussy, drinkin' milk, and gettin my cock sucked every hour, every day, and ya cooked me whatever the fuck I wanted. Does that sound like a bad bet? Hell no, fuckin' heaven is what is it."

"Joel, baby, I'm bout to--"

he lifts the two of you up and sets your back flat against the table, spreading your legs wide. Joel growls like a beast before letting his mouth latch on to your mound, eating you out.

its all tongue and slurping and sucking on your twitching clit. You whimper over and over again until you're gripping his hair and cumming, pistoning your pussy into his jaw as he drinks your orgasm for all its worth.

"That's my good Momma," he gasps, twisting and scissoring his thick digits deep inside you and slamming your spot repeatedly. All while his tongue swirls in fast circles around your swollen clit.

Your head rolls to the side, still heaving from your high as Joel jerks his red, beating member to completion over your body. "FUCK!" He grunts, spewing ropes of his creamy seed all over your tits.

You yelp and laugh when he crashes on top of you to lick it all clean, sucking his salty cum and your sweet cream all in one go like a messy dog lapping at peanut butter. The newly padded layers of his body cushion you securly under him, not that you minded at all. In fact, you welcomed the warm, heavy feel of him surrounding you, strong and secure, hugging him close as the two of you suck air, breathing in the table of cookies, tacos and sex.

he plants his lips between the junction of your breastbone. "You're always gonna be my favorite snack, ya know that?"

- - - -

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He didn’t go out to eat—the man preferred a home cook meal and saving a few bucks where he could. There also weren’t any suspicious amounts of extra processed snacks coming into the house. And it’s not like Joel was slacking off on the construction site by any means. And yet, you noticed it when he started huffing just to get his once baggy jeans over his thickened belly. Or the way his shirts stretched a little tighter over his chest. Or the extra grunts after any regular amount of food. 

The only real change was that 6-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop your chest, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach under the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below.

 Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming misshaped and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breakfast off of you in the early morning again. 

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

-

Joel doesn’t like sneaking around his wife. 

Realistically, he should have been losing weight, what with the extra snack of your milk each night he could enjoy now entirely off the menu. He should have not been too indulgent either, as you may have noticed his... physical difference. In fact, he was surprised it didn’t really dawn on you, where all those extra pounds on your hubby are coming from.

Joel tiptoes down to the kitchen in the late night, far after you’re lightly snoring. He makes sure not to hit the pressure sensitive creaky floorboards too. Honestly, even with the extra weight, he’s pretty good at slinky-ing around. 

But his eagerness is getting the best of him. Rumbling through his body despite the slowness in his pace. He waits all day for this moment and can’t rush it now.

He cracks open the fridge, the light illuminating the dark kitchen as he briefly scans behind him again for any signs of movement. When the area is secure, he turn back. He’s so excited, goosebumps riveting his skin. Bubbles gurgling in his stomach. He’s become gluttonous, no doubt. But when you get that high, it’s hard to just quit cold turkey. 

Reaching behind the beer bottles, carefully laid under a foil wrap of steak, is his most prized possession of the late night endeavors: that extra sum of frozen baggies of your breastmilk in the freezer that you gracious kept saved and that his even more gracious baby now refuses to drink. To his luck, you must have mentally completely forgotten about them. He always pulls three each night and lets them thaw in their hidden place in the refrigerator, waiting all day for this exact moment.

His obtuse stomach rumbles. Joel typically wears a buttoned sleep shirt as of late since it was the only thing that fit him to bed. But now the bottom few buttons had torn off, leaving his fat gut rounded and hanging out. 

The hungry man licks his lips as he tears open the first buoyant bag of cream, his lips quivering when that first scent hits his nose. “Ah—oh fuck yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he groans, but quickly softens his voice again, remembering he can’t get caught on his indulgence.

He hastily dips a fat finger into the milk and swirls it before pushing past his lips. Joel closes his eyes, humming loudly as the taste of your fine breastmilk invade his buds, travel through his electrical signals to his brain that then releases pleasure throughout his entire body. He moans around his digit, sucking every little drop until he’s close to gnawing his finger off. Then he releases with a pop and grins, dipping two more fingers and scooping it out messily. Tilting back to drink the second helping. It drips down his palm, and he’s quick to suckle it up. None can be wasted.

He suppresses a slight burp. His large stomach screaming for more, for what he came he for. Joel tilts the baggie back over his head, leaning back and drinks the entire contents. Audible gulp after gulp, the sweet taste of milk fills his tongue and travels to his happy belly. All while his other wondering hand roams over the thick, stretched flesh, right over his belly button, jiggling the heavy underside of lard. God he feels so good like this. Getting gorged out on your milk, feeling so full and fulfilled from it. 

He wags the bag once the last few drops are struggling to pour, sticking his tongue out like a dog. Heat spreads from his core down to his loins. Joel grips his hardened length over his soft pj shorts. He can’t help it. He once had prime seat to your lap, drinking straight from your tits whenever he felt like it while you jerked him off. Now reduced to palming his hard-on while lapping at your bagged milk by himself in the dark late of night.

 The first bag never lasts. He makes sure to lick any remnant on his lips, squeezing his belly and groan with a pathetic whimper. He needs more. He always needs more. Thankfully there are two more bags for tonight, but fuck he could drink 300 right now and still never be full. 

His shirt stretches tightly over his chest, and he decides to unbutton the top few stained buttons. His puffy chest bursts through the fabric like a damn. Now fully free, the silk material hanging forgotten and obscured by his massive figure, Joel can now take more enjoyment out of tearing into the next bag and downing it even faster than the first.

He huffs out, breathing for the first time after slurping the entire bag in one go. Rubbing faster up and down his stiff cock. Shit, he’s gonna cum. Feels so euphoric having his tip bump against the lower hang of his pooch. The fat tip meeting his even fatter tummy. 

And your taste. That’s what sends him over every night. Has him cumming in his sleep shorts by the time he’s finished the third bag. Joel grunts, lifting his stomach from the underside so his other hand can palm his swollen dick. “Momma’s got the best milk,” he hums to himself, eyes closed in bliss. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, fuck yeah, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

“So!”

Joel swings around, crashing his body into the open refrigerator door, spilling his precious milk all over his tits and belly. Only to be met with you, your arms folded over your  chest, spaghetti silk nightgown adorning your figure and a knowing smirk on your face.

“So this is where you’ve been getting your little extra snacks.”

He’s speechless, caught and cornered with no where to go. His mouth opens, but no words leave, like a gaping fish out of water.

“Nothing to say, Joel?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I—its—“ he casts down at his belly sadly. God, he looks pathetic now. Cock rock hard and stabbing through his pants, and belly flush out like a pig at a buffet. You must think he’s disgusting like this. “I…I missed your milk, baby,” he says solemnly. “Got carried away, I guess.” 

Instead of the scolding he expects, you walk up to him quietly and bring his eyes to yours. Taking the bag of half drank breastmilk, he acquiesces and lets you. 

To his surprise, you hold it up slightly to mouth level for him. “Looks like you’re not finished yet, honey.” 

Joel stares at you, confused. But when you start palming his erection, gliding your hand up and around his belly with a swirling ticklish finger before brushing back down to his dick, he doesn’t have any braincells left. You push the bag forward and his jaw drops open once again, feeding him. With you at the control, he gulps quickly, afraid to lose any as you pour the entire contents at once. He sputters a moment when the bag is empty, too caught up on the pleasurable heat spreading in his crotch and core again. You kiss his lips, the sweet taste making you realize how difficult it must have been for him to give something so delightful up.

“Mmmm, that’s better?”

“Ah—oh—oh-yeah-so good baby-shit-“ he groans as you continue your ministrations on his member. With two hands, you hoist the underside of his enlarged middle, bouncing it up and down. 

“Oh, Joel,” you tsk. “So light. So empty! We’re not done yet big boy. Not even close.”

-

 They say there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.

But as for Joel, stripped naked and sitting his fat ass on the couch, gorging on the funneled tube that’s been cascading a mix of whole and breastmilk into his stomach, he can confidently say that saying doesn’t apply here.

His finishes a big gulp before pulling the nozzle away, letting out a massive burp. As he grips the side of his belly, the rolls on his side multiplying before his vary eyes and skin stretching like a taught balloon, he’s never felt so full in his life. 

And it feels fucking amazing. 

He’s never felt so guilt-free, so perfectly enlightened and fully allowing himself to feel pleasure like to this level. 

“You full yet?” You coo. You’re standing next to him by the cough, a gallon of mixed milk partially full in one hand as you check on your gluttonous husband.

He shakes his head, devious and energized. “Hit me again, baby!” He puts the nozzle back in his mouth and rests the back of his head on the couch headrest again.

You chuckle but does as he says, pouring the jug into the large funnel. He can’t wait fast enough for the milk to force its way through the tube and finally squirts onto his tongue again.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy loves filling you up with her milk. No need to hide it from me any more baby. You keep drinking and drinking until you’re full.”

With one hand splayed over his belly button, physically feeling his gut fill past its maximum, he gets a quick glance at you. The way you giddily grin, eyeing him up and down in his fattened state like a delicious piece of steak. He’s never felt so sexy in his life.

His cock feels it too. Reddened and swollen beyond belief. curved against the swell of his belly leaving a sticky trail where his precum keeps nudging along. Though, with how much he’s packing into his stomach, he’s struggling more and more to be able to fully grasp his cock and jerk it with the mean pumps he usually does. Joel was the type of masturbator to grip his base with one hand while the other beats his meat like a car engine. His arms still retained their muscled strength, but everywhere else was starting to fill in. Now, he can only get one hand down there to gently tug on it. 

“Poor baby, got you so fat you can basely touch that little dick?” You tease. Though at the sheer size of him, Joel Miller’s cock is anything but ‘little.’ In fact, it’s even more imposing now, like somehow he added a few extra pounds onto his mini me as well to keep the proportions the same. 

“S’not little. I can—oh fuck—still reach jus’ fine.”

Another burp billows up his throat, and he just gets the tube out of his mouth to let it out. Hell, he can barely move. The amount of effort just to sit upright again makes him bounce his whole body, the fat moving at a slower pace. Fuck, even when he can’t fully jerk his cock like he used to, the pressure of his belly on top of his tip, smushing his balls into the couch feels heavenly. Especially when he bounces and rocks back and forth slightly. Friction doing its thing and grinding his sack between his big thighs. 

“Baby,” he gasps. “M so full of you.” He peers up to you with heart, drunken full pupils as he jiggles his belly. “M’ so packed tight. So much Mommy’s milk.” One finger trails up the fold under his pec, now swollen like a breast himself, before pinching and rolling his nips between his calloused fingers.

“Yeah? Let Mommy feel.” You press your palm over his chest, down to his belly that protrudes so far out. Despite being squishy earlier this night, his stomach is indeed bursting to its limit. Hardened just as yours was right before giving birth. 

“Aww, oh Joel…” you squeeze your thumb into his belly button and grip the lower half before jiggling it roughly. He gasps and pushes him belly out further for you, rocking his hips best he can into the air. “You really are full baby, huh? Greedy greedy piggy.”

“Mhm,” he hums with a pout, licking his lips. “Momma’s fat fuckin’ gluttonous hog. ‘At’s me.”

You prop the funnel up on a coat hook before sliding down to your knees in front of your husband. He leans as far forward as possible to be able to see all over you between his chunky legs, parted to let you breathe against his tummy that’s right up against your face.

You gently caress his sides along the rounded shape, holding his middle in your hands. You’re so soft against him, so loving and careful. He feels no different right now than when he used to be able to lie on your lap and feed from your tit. It’s been so long since then, and he realizes now this is the feeling he’d been chasing bag after bag all this time.

Your soft cheek presses into his skin there, making him sigh relaxed. 

He’s getting lost in the feeling of you on him, but you need to keep him on track.

“Keep drinking. You’ve got 2 more gallons.” You point towards the table where more mixed milk sits, and Joel settles up and begins gulping his cream again.

He moans, cock twitching against your chest as your tongue swirls around his belly button, dipping inside slightly. The hairs around his happy trail feel soft as you stroke along his naval. You can hear the little sloshing of liquid inside him each time you plant a wet kiss against his skin, making out with his gorged stomach. 

The weeping end of his length bobs painfully each time you brush it. You notice he’s glancing down at you playing with him, while he continues to swallow big batches down his throat. “You want me to take care of your little problem?”

He nods pitifully. 

“Not until you’re done.” You smile, standing up and gripping his belly harshly. He grunts but doesn’t release the bottled end, sucking more milk as you slap his belly repeatedly. Watching it wobble from the sheer effort and taking a moment to settle before you slap it again. Each time he whimpers but pushes it out more, asking for another.

“Greedy“—slap—“fat“—slap—“Milk hungry“—slap—“whore.”

You squeeze his plush tit, no bigger than an A cup but still, the man had nothing there before. He grunts and eyes you, dark and pleading. “Holy fuck, You’ve even got such cute cow titties Joel.” You giggle, rolling his perked nipples under you thumb while cupping the rest of the fat pooling there. “Wouldn’t that be something? Squeezing milk from your own tits?” You place your mouth on his pecs and begin suckling like the tip of his cock. Joel tosses his head back, milk spilling from his cheeks as he howls in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Momma that’s it—keep sucking my fat tits—christ. Fuck—fuckFUCK!” One hand caresses your hair as he whines, “I Love you.”

“I love you too. How are we doing?” You gesture to the funnel.

He tilts it upside down. “All out,” he says with a grimace.

“Good. On your knees.”

You grab his chubby hands and hoist him up, the two of you laughing when he fails after the first attempt.

When he does get to his feet, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. “You look so fucking sexy, Joel Miller.” 

You brush his fingers under your thigh, between your slit. “Oh—shit—so fuckin’ wet,” he whispers, rubbing your slicked walls with his meaty fingers.

 Pressing your cunt against his crotch, your belly collides with his, creating the perfect friction on your clit. “I want you bigger than me when you knock me up with twins next.”

He grits his teeth and hisses against your lips. The mental image doing a whirlwind on him. You chuck two pillows to the ground for him comfort. With a big thud, he gets to one knee on the plush, then the other, arms flailing forward and hands plastered on the ground to hold his weight. His belly sags so heavily, causing him to groan. the compressed tip is damn near toughing the floorboards even as he holds cow position. 

He stares up back up at you, soft big moo moo eyes getting eager when you grab the funnel and uncap another jug.

 He used to marvel at how much pregnancy changed you. At how he changed you. Your body growing round with child, a child he put inside you, and then your tits swelling up with milk, all because of him.

And now he’s changing physically because of you too. His body filling with fat, engorged from your abundant lactation that you’re feeding him.

He sticks his tongue out without a single word, sucking in the nozzle and guzzling the milk funneling through again. 

He downs this one fast and hard, pushing away with a big sigh. “Christ, I can’t do it. MN’gonna fuckin’ explode.”

You crouch down to see his convex stomach. It’s perfectly rounded and bulging like a moon. 

He shivers when you cup the underside and glide up along, feeling how smoothed over from so much filling him. “Touch it, please touch it baby. Gonna go crazy if ya don’t.”

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his swaying back and forth like he’s trying to get his belly to hump his dick, or maybe the other way around. He’s helpless in this position by his own doing. 

“Aww, has my big boy had enough? No more Mommy’s milk?”

He shakes his head painfully. “More,” he croaks. God, his body is screaming no. he’s never felt so ready to turn into an atom bomb, and yet his intoxicated brain knows if he can’t down the last of this gallon, you’ll never give him the full on tap again.

Joel snatches the tunnel again, balancing on one hand briefly as he wraps his tongue around and drinks yet again. Gulp after gulp, the sweet liquid bulges in his esophagus before traveling down to his mighty belly. You kiss his cheek and hold the nozzle to his face, forcing it to stay. “Almost there, Joel, drink it to the last drop, and then you’ll get your reward…” you not so subtly squeeze your breasts together, and that does it for him.

He spits out the nozzle and falls head first to the ground, back arched as much as possible as his tummy smushes into the hardwood. With a howl, his hips jerk forward into his fat middle, suffocating the tip and he starts cumming untouched. “Oh-ah-ahaugghhh-yeah—yeah!” He hums, cheek pressed into the ground and drool and milk spilling from those sinful lips along with a litany of sexy, satisfied noises. 

All the while you praise him with kisses and gentle curls of his hair, telling him how good he’s been for you. The funnel rolls around the floor, having been drained into Joel’s gut just a moment before he gave in. 

And you’d think he was done, out for the count, needing a fat coma nap. Instead, just as you help him up to his bum, Joel snatches your waist. “Get on my lap Momma,” he slurs, licking his lips once again. You half climb, half are hoisted up to his lap, his cream coated cock still raging hard and sitting between the two of you. “Show me what those bouncing titties can do. “He slaps your breasts with little slapslapslaps. The tight grip he has on your hips forces you to begin rolling, your neglected cunt beautifully nudged against his sack with his belly and cock brushing your clit.

“Hop on Pop,” he chuckles. 

You gasp and grip his hair as he begins suckling out your warm breastmilk. It’s like all this time, he wasn’t truly even full. Like he had a separate storage in this lard living planet between you just for your hot fresh pure milk. 

Gripping one of his shoulders, you align his cock along your soaked folds and sink down on him, the two of you sighing heavily. His sticky cum coated length needed no prep to enter you, filling your womb to the brim with his Daddy sized dick.

“Gonna pump you full now, little Momma. Gonna get ya bred in no time.” Joel dips his head down and latches your tit between his jaws.

“J-Joel,” you moan, eyes rolling. He’s always been good at sex. Always had a great body, but this…this is different. You can feel all of him pressing against you. Burrying your nub and hitting it so deliciously from the outside as he pummels you from the inside. You fee like a little doll, being used like a flashlight up and down along his thick cock

He smiles. “Bigger.” His beefy hands wrap around your back and pull you as close to him as you can physically manage. “Let Daddy do all the work on that one. Just gotta take my cream, at’s all. I drink yours—n’ you take mine.”

“That’s it, Mommy, ride me. Ride my fat cock. Ride it till ya swollen here—“ he pokes at your stomach “—as big as mine, like ya said.”

You grin, biting your teeth. “B-bigger.”

“Mmfff--fuck—fuckyes Daddy fill me up—fill me with your cream! Ah! oh shit I’m cumming! Make me a Mommy again!”

You spasm, convulsing around Joel’s base just as he stills and ruts his second load inside you, grunting into your tits like a pained beast. You feel each pulse overwhelming your walls, yet having nowhere else to go but inside. The man has never cum so much in a second orgasm in his life, and you start to wonder if any of this is your own milk having traveled to his balls and deposited safely inside you again.

As the two of you come down, breathing in and holding one another tightly, Joel pecks at your jaw with feather kisses.

“You know…I won’t be lactating forever.” You twirl some of his curly brown hair out of his sweaty temple. “It’s going to end eventually.”

He only shrugs. 

Gasping as his dick twitches to life inside you once again, he presses his lips to yours and begins shallowly thrusting again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep knocking you up.”

- - - -

Notes: I have plans for more Fat!Joel content in a variety of flavors...not just subby and breastfeeding. Will be different characters and have other independent requests so stay tuned!

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Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach over the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below

 Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming mishapened and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breastfast off of you in th early morning again. 

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.