wafflecone
Snuggle Hoarder
A Fatter Girlfriend
by wafflecone
by wafflecone
“I can’t,” I whine as I try and finish chewing. “I can’t eat anymore.” My hand flutters across the top of my belly, where things are tightest. I swallow and whimper.
“And yet you just swallowed another bite.” He grins wickedly. He loves watching me like this, loves watching me eat until I’ve practically beached myself on the couch or in bed or at the buffet. “Come on. There’s only five more pieces. You won’t even have to lean forward to fill your plate—I’ll do it for you.”
I suppress a belch. “I’ve finished 19 slices. Can’t the other five just be for breakfast or something?” I try and shift my weight to get more comfortable, but my gut follows me everywhere I go, reminding me how greedy I’ve been.
“Baby, you can’t get a monster-sized pizza and not finish it.” I take another bite of the slice in my hand and feel a twinge in my stomach. Am I going to burst? Or just puke? As I swallow, I hiccup. A pained moan follows.
“I will finish it. Just not”—hic—“not now.”
“And here I thought my girl was trying to break records.”
I finish the last bite of stuffed crust in my hand and lick my fingers. “I really can’t. It’s too big.” I gesture to myself vaguely.
“Or is it not big enough…?” He traces his thumb lightly around my bellybutton. The tickling sensation sends a lightning bolt of lust through me. A vision of him riding me with my impossibly stuffed stomach between us flits through my mind.
“One more piece,” I sigh. “Just one.”
Ten minutes later, one massive, Costco-sized slice of greasy pizza has made it into my bloated gut. Fifteen minutes later, a second follows. I protest the third.
“You’re making me fat,” I whine, pouting a little. My belly sinks lower between my plump thighs, which I try to spread wider to accommodate my growth. It’s no use. There’s no escaping the discomfort my gorging has wrought. Just think how much softer you’ll be tomorrow, I muse as I bite my lip. “You’re going to have a fat girlfriend soon.”
“Oh, that’s cute.” He kisses my palm. “I’ve had a fat girlfriend since we got together.” He runs a gentle hand across the crest of my belly and I feel myself buck involuntarily. “I’m trying to get a fatter girlfriend.”
I close my eyes and make a gesture to him to start rubbing my belly. A light, breathy moan escapes my lips. Fuck, he’s good. No wonder I’ve gained forty pounds in the last few months. “Well, even a fatter girlfriend than me won’t be able to finish a whole monster-sized pizza alone.”
“Mm. We’ll see.”
After a few more minutes of gentle belly rubs, he stops. I crack open one eye and cradle my food baby. “Why’d you stop? I didn’t ask you to stop.”
“I’ll keep going if you eat the last two pieces.”
Both eyes open. “Oh, that’s evil. You’re a cruel man, denying desperately needed digestive assistance.”
“You’ll thank me tomorrow when your ass is bigger.”
I take this in. “Do the Thing and I’ll eat them.”
A grin spreads across his face. It might as well be Christmas. And Christmas is when I show off my outgrown lingerie to him every year. “Yeah?”
“Hurry before I change my mind.”
He sits beside me then and runs his hands over my stomach. He’s looking for just the right spot. And when he finds it—“There.”—he presses just a bit. I let out a huge belch. “Better?” I nod. “Enough room for two more slices?” I nod again, hyperaware of how prominent my double chin must look right now. He hands me a plate with the last two slices, each bigger than my face.
It takes ages of chewing and groaning and me pleading to all the gods that I won’t pop, but I finish. The last bite slides between my lips and I raise one fist in quiet, lazy triumph.
“My girl just ate a whole monster pizza alone.”
“Don’t remind me,” I whisper. My belly is the heaviest it’s ever been. I’m the size of Jupiter. I can’t see my thighs, or even my toes, which were visible earlier propped up against the ottoman in front of me.
“I’m about to spend a whole lot of time reminding you.” He lifts me up bridal style, grunting because I’m heavier than he expected. I can feel his erection against my fat. My stomach gurgles as it continues to digest my feast. Lust for him and for more fills me.
“Don’t forget the ice cream.”
The End
