#potbelly

Whatever I'm sure there's an audience for whatever this is

“Someone’s getting a little belly,” they say, in mock surprise.

You blush.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. You know I like a little extra. Maybe you’d gain a few more pounds for me?”

You think this is probably inevitable given the rich meals they’ve been giving you, full of butter and cream. You were indeed surprised to confront your rounding silhouette in the mirror. But the meals are so delicious, and you know they enjoy the results.

“Yes,” you whisper.

They start playing with your belly, rubbing you, patting you, giving you playful slaps to see your new fat jiggle. They run their hands down to the round, soft bottom and cup it. “You were so skinny. Now look at this,” they say, giving your belly a squeeze. And then they grin.

“Oh my, are you getting wet? May I?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

They slide a hand between your plump thighs, first over your panties, and then move them aside.

“You’re so wet.”

They put a finger inside you, searching, probing, discovering, as their other hand stays firmly on your belly, lovingly kneading and slapping your soft flesh. They know what you want and need. And they continue until you let out a final moan, exhausted.

Six months and many meals later, they again wrap their arms around you.

“Look at that,” they tease. “So fat I can’t get my arms all the way around your waist.” They slide their arms down the slope of your body. “Look at this potbelly,” they marvel, cupping the bottom underneath with both hands, shaking all of your new fat. They give you a slap your cellulite jiggles.

“Oh,” you moan.

“Yes, that always gets you wet,” they say. They push a hand between your heavy thighs and find the spot right away, slapping and jiggling your belly at the same time.

After, they pull you to them, your big gut against their trim stomach, and grab your widening ass.