You make me sit on the kitchen counter while you stand between my knees, holding a small plate in one hand.

“Don’t rush,” you tell me. “I want you to taste everything.”

I nod.

The first bite is warm and soft, almost melting against my tongue. Then you give me something crunchy and salty, followed by a spoonful of something cold, creamy, and sweet.

You smile every time my expression changes.

“Which one do you like best?”

I barely have time to answer before you bring another bite to my lips.

Soon, my belly starts feeling warm and pleasantly heavy. I lean back slightly, letting my hands rest beside me while you keep choosing what comes next.

“You’re getting full, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

Your hand settles gently over my stomach.

I can feel the fullness beneath your palm, soft on the outside and heavy inside.

“You’re doing so well.”

That alone is enough to make me open my mouth again.

You laugh quietly.

“So obedient.”

My cheeks turn warm, but I don’t argue.

I just sit there, letting you spoil me one bite at a time until I’m full, sleepy, and leaning into you.