BBW "Potential" by LJ Rock [~BBW,~SSBBW,~Feedism,~Sexuality]

Dimensions Magazine

Help Support Dimensions Magazine:

LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 4, 2005
Messages
3,316
Location
,


A very short story about a young couple exploring their desires surrounding feedism/feederism and weight gain (BBW, romance and erotic comedy.)



Potential
by LJ Rock



“Hey, you know that thing you were talking about the other day? That thing where you stuff me full of food, and I eat and eat and get really fat?” Her voice was loud and atypically cheerful sounding for such an early hour on a weekend.

“Umm, yeah.” I croaked groggily.

“Well,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about it a lot — and I think I’m down; I think I want to try it.”

I was completely taken aback. I had only just woken up a few minutes before my girlfriend Sylvia came into the the room, and out of nowhere just started talking about a conversation we had more than a week prior. We had been talking with one another on the subject of kinks and fantasies, and I revealed to her that I was into feedism. I told her all about my fantasies of wanting to feed someone into submission, watching them eat as they grow bigger and fatter by the day. It’s just something I’d always dreamed about, but I never thought it was a dream that could actually come true.

“Really?” I said, “You think you’d be interested in trying it.”

“Yes,” she said, taking a seat next to me on the bed where I still lay. “I mean the idea scared me at first — I’m not going to lie. All my life I’d been told that I have to watch what I eat, that letting myself get too fat was a bad thing and that I need to watch my figure.”

She sat upon the bed looking down at her hefty paunch where it lay in her lap. Sylvia was not a thin woman, but she was no where close to being the heaviest woman I’d ever dated. She was curvy and pretty with a nice round belly and an impressive appetite. Her potential to gain and become a world-class fatty was undeniable.

“But if I’m being totally honest about it,” she continued to say, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to just completely let go and give in to temptation. To eat anything I want whenever I want.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was I still asleep? Was this all a dream?

“Sometimes,” she went on, “when I’ve really overeaten and I know that I am totally full, I wonder to myself what it would be like to keep going, to keep pushing myself to eat more and more.”

She was licking her lips and rubbing her tummy while she spoke. Over the course of the last six months or so that we had been dating, I definitely noticed that she’d been eating a bit more and putting on some extra added pounds. I seemed to have had that effect on many of the women that I’ve dated over the years.

“I wonder,” she continued, “how much I could actually pack away inside of me — if I could push myself to the limits and force myself to keep eating.”

I reached out and patted her on her tummy, which she was now letting hang out from under her plain white tee shirt and over the waistline of her ill-fitting sweatpants. All of her clothes were getting so tight they looked as though they’d bust at the seams at any moment.

“Maybe you could help me find out,” she said. “Tonight at dinner, after I’ve already eaten three of four platefuls of food and I’m totally stuffed, maybe you could force me to eat more. Even if I resist or say that I can’t, you can shovel more food into me — I know I can handle it.”

I didn’t respond. I just smiled and went on rubbing her pudge. I could feel myself getting revved up though. My breathing started getting heavy and my blood started coursing through my veins. My neck started getting hot and I could feel a thin line of perspiration forming at my hairline.

“Would you like that?” she said, her hazel eyes training in on me, increasing the heat on my neck. “Is that getting you hot?”

“It really is,” I finally spoke up, taking a hard gulp as the words fell out over my lips.

“I won’t lie,” she said, “it’s really turning me on too. I can’t explain why, but just the thought of being a big, fat, greedy pig and eating way more food than I need — its so exciting.”

Just when it seemed like things were really heating up and something was about to happen, Sylvia got up from the bed suddenly and moved toward the full length mirror in the corner of the room, touching her belly and examining her curves.

“I wonder how big I’ll get,” she said, grabbing a handful of bare belly fat and shaking it like it were a glob of dough. “I mean I know I’m already pretty chubby, but that’s not good enough. I want to get huge.”

She stood sideways and tried to push her abdominal muscles outward as far as possible, making her almost look as if she were pregnant. She puffed out her cheeks and pulled her chin back, making her face look fatter.

“I mean I want to get really huge!” she went on. “I want to be so big and fat that I can barely move; I’ll be huffing and puffing as I waddle from the bed to the fridge and back again.”

She started waddling around the room, her bare midriff still sticking out and wiggling about as she moved. Her slipper-clad foot smacked down on the carpeted floor, making a loud thud and shaking the walls.

“I want to get so enormously obese that one day I’ll wake up and I won’t even be able to move; I’ll open my eyes and see nothing but my gigantic belly stretched out in front of me, and I’ll need you feed me and pamper me and take care of me twenty four hours a day. Would you like that?”

I was in a daze; I didn’t even know what to say. We had only talked about my feeding fantasies in passing, but in that moment it felt as though Sylvia had been privy to every perverted and deviant thought that I’d ever had.

“You do like that, don’t you?” she said in a low and sultry voice as she moved toward the bed. “Look at you! You are getting so turned on by this, aren’t you?”

I looked down and saw my full manhood, peaking out through the flap in my pajama bottoms and standing at attention. Sylvia sauntered seductively toward the bed, then crawled up on all fours and hovered just above me, her plush belly and tits hanging down and brushing against my body.

“Go ahead,” she whispered, so close to me now I could feel the moistness of her breath as she spoke. “Show me how much you want me. Show me how much you want me to be your humongous, fat goddess.”

“Oh, Sylvia!” I gasped. “What are you doing to me?”

“When I am completely immobile and bed-bound by my own weight, you’ll be able to have your way with me anytime you want.” She started pressing down on me with her full weight as she peeled off her tee and threw it aside. “You can do anything to me, and I’d be helpless to stop you. All I could do is lie there and take it, let you treat me like your dirty, fat sex-slave.”

“Oh, Sylvia!”


We made love all morning, and when we were through we started making plans for a grand feast that evening. I don’t know if she will be able to put away any more food tonight than she would normally, and I don’t know how much fatter she really intends to get. All I know is that I am a lucky man to have a woman who knows just what I like and just what I need to hear.



Anticipation.jpg
 

LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 4, 2005
Messages
3,316
Location
,
I've had several readers express interest in seeing a continuation to this story, so I've started working on two additional chapters. I'm hoping to have the second part ready to post soon.

Thanks again to all of you for your support and encouragement! :)
 

LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 4, 2005
Messages
3,316
Location
,
Here is the second installment of this story: Sylvia and Marco take their feederism desires to the next level with some unexpected results.

Potential (Part Two)

Sylvia and I immediately started in on a strict regimen of overeating and inertia. Our apartment was teeming with snacks, our refrigerator and pantry packed with mass quantities of food at all times. Between getting take out, grocery delivery and hopping in my car and running out to the store, there was a constant stream of consumables coming into the house, and Sylvia was polishing it all off just as fast as I could bring it to her.

Most of her days were divided between the bed and the sofa; I saw to it that she moved as little as possible as I waited on her hand and foot. I’d always been decent in the kitchen, but my chef skills were rapidly improving as I learned to make all of the most tempting and fattening dishes that I knew my baby would love.

The extra pounds came piling on Sylvia’s body slowly at first, but before too long she was blowing up like a balloon. Seeming to expand by the minute right before my very eyes, she grew fatter and fatter, getting bigger than either one of us could ever have imagined. Her belly was gargantuan, taking over her entire body, and her butt had grown so plump and round, bouncing up and down when she walked, bumping into things and knocking them over. Her hips were getting so wide that she struggled to push herself through doorways, and her massive undulating breasts had filled out to the size of overripe watermelons.

Finding clothes large enough to cover her ever-expanding body was a challenge to say the least. Not long after our journey began, nearly every article of clothing Sylvia owned was quickly rendered to rags by her rapidly bulging curves and rolls. I tried to keep up with her, buying super-sized clothing online wherever I could find it, but almost any shirt, bra, pair of pants, panties or muumuu would get at most one or two wears before it was too small.

“Honestly,” she said to me one morning from our bed, her mouth full of pancake and sausage I’d just cooked for her, “I feel more comfortable just being naked.”

“Do you really?” I asked.

“Really,” she said as she quickly gulped down her food, a small burp escaping from her gullet. “I’m perfectly happy just laying here naked, stuffing my face, feeling myself getting bigger and bigger for you.”

Hearing those words coming out of her mouth in between bites of food was getting me excited. I quickly retreated to the kitchen to retrieve the pound of bacon and dozen-egg omelette I’d just fried up for her; I couldn’t wait to bring it back to her and watch her inhale all of it.

“As long as I have at least one outfit to wear when we go out to the farmer’s market on Sundays, I’ll be totally fine.” I heard her calling to me from the bedroom down the hall.

“Of course,” I shouted back while piling a service tray up with the rest of her greasy and fattening breakfast. “We have to continue our weekly tradition.”

It had indeed become a weekly tradition for us that every Sunday Sylvia and I go to the fairgrounds and attend our local farmer’s market. The market in our town was like any food-lovers wet-dream. In addition to all the wonderful fresh fruits and vegetables, there was also a vast abundance of freshly baked goods like cakes, pies and pastries. There were vendors of every sort of cuisine from around the world: French, Italian, Indian, Mexican — and of course we had to sample them all.

Sylvia was particularly enamored with the butcher at the market. He was an old man named Nestor whose face would light up every time he saw us coming. He doted on Sylvia as if she were one of his own daughters or granddaughters, and of course he loved the fact that we’d drop major coin on meats whenever we’d come to see him. Steaks, hams, pork loins, racks of ribs and sausage links by the yard; we’d load up the van and haul it all back home and Sylvia would chow down like there was no tomorrow.

One time we’d asked Nestor to get us two fifty-foot lengths of sausage links, one spicy and one sweet, and I’ll damned if he didn’t pull through for us. We showed up at his shop and he had it all there for us, about 100 pounds of meat fully cooked and ready to eat. When we got back home Sylvia double-fisted those sausages, alternating between the sweet and the spicy with each bite. It took her a few hours, but she managed to stuff it all down inside of her. She looked like a giant swollen tick that was ready to pop!

We loved going to that market; we both looked forward to it all week long. That was Sylvia’s one day to leave the house — until one day the inevitable happened.


“Ugh, it’s no use!” Sylvia scowled as she lay in the bed. “I’m too heavy, I just can’t move.”

We’d been trying all morning to get her up out of bed, but to no avail. She had indeed grown so large that she was immovable. No amount of pushing or pulling was going to get her up; she was just a solid fat blob bound to her bed.

“You’ll have to go without me,” she said, still panting heavily from the effort we’d exerted in trying to mobilize her.

“Go alone?” I said. “Are you sure? It’s our tradition.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Just hurry back; you know you can’t leave me for too long before I start getting hungry and I need you to feed me.”

“Of course,” I replied.


I made way to the market on my own that day. It was strange being there without Sylvia, but I did my best to get all of the things I knew she would love. Making the rounds to all the vendor stations I picked up 4 large pizzas, 7 foot-long hoagies, a tub of pork fried rice, 2 big bags full of burgers and fries, and a gigantic tray full of hot tamales. Stopping by the bakery then, I grabbed two apple pies, a blueberry pie, a strawberry cheesecake and 2 pounds of cannoli.

Next I stopped by and saw Nestor the butcher. He was surprised to see me all alone, but still cheerfully fulfilled my order and even threw in a few extra pork chops for free for the lovely Miss Sylvia. All told I brought home about 20 pounds of meat that day.

Lastly I went through the fresh produce section to grab some ingredients for some dishes I was going to try making that week. As I made my way through the narrow aisles, I accidentally backed into a cart full of melons and knocked them over, sending them crashing to the ground.

“Nice going, fatso!” I heard someone shout from across the crowded room. There was a low rumble of nervous laughter for a moment before everyone just went back to their business as usual. As I helped the floor clerk pick up the melons, I took a look at myself and realized that I had indeed become quite a fatso myself. I had been so focused on Sylvia’s weight gain that I hadn’t even really noticed my own gains. I guess that’s what happens when you live with a woman whose sole purpose in life is to eat twenty four hours a day and get as fat as possible, and you are completely surrounded by food all the time.


I rushed home as quickly as I could to my ravenous girlfriend and got right to work preparing and serving her an ongoing repast for the rest of the day. Sylvia chowed down like a world-class pig until she was so big and bloated she could barely breathe, and then we made love all night like two gigantic seacows in heat.

As hard as it might be for some to believe, Sylvia and I still maintained an amazing love life. We couldn’t keep our hands off of one another. When we weren’t cooking or eating, we were all over each other. That’s not to say that sex between two massively obese people isn’t without it’s challenges. There was a lot of trial and error, finding the positions and the means of properly supporting ourselves in order to carry on — but we were both highly motivated and we always found a way to make it happen.

Sylvia always was an animal in bed, especially when she was good and stuffed. It was like the more she ate the hornier she got. So many evenings, after packing away enough food to feed a gang of hungry teamsters, she’d be laying back in bed with her tongue hanging out, drooling all over herself as she gasped for air, rubbing her belly while loud belches erupted from her gullet; she’d get that look in her eye, and I knew just what she wanted.

“Oh, baby!” she’d moan sensuously. “You stuffed me so good -- *BURP* — look how big and fat you’re making me get.” She’d begin drumming playfully on the top of her belly, causing it to ripple in waves like a giant mass of gelatin, the gallons of partially digested food sloshing around inside of her like a stormy sea. “Why don’t you come over here and give me a nice belly rub — I know you want to.”

Nothing got me more excited than touching her overstuffed belly. Her skin would get so taut and smooth, stretched to the max over her packed stomach and thick layers of fat. The moment I’d lay my hands on her I could feel myself get as hard as a rock, even though now I could barely even see the tip of my erection over the edge of my own fatness.

We’d start kissing and caressing each other until she begged me to turn her over and let her have it. Again, I couldn’t see very well where I was going over all of the rolls of billowing fatness between the two of us, but I could always feel it when I was right in there. She was so warm and soft, it felt like I was diving into pool of melted marshmallow fluff. It was so amazing, and it was all I could do to keep myself from climaxing after just a few strokes.

After we’d both get off, I would collapse on top of her bulk, both of us covered in sweat and gasping for air. We’d hold each other as we lay, whispering sweet nothings to one another, and making plans for our next feast. It was a good life, and we were both very happy. It felt as if it would go on this way forever.

That is — until one day when everything changed.


Potential II.jpg
 

LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 4, 2005
Messages
3,316
Location
,
The conclusion to this story: Marco and Sylvia are in for some big changes, but will they be able to keep up their ultra-fattening lifestyle?

Potential
(The Conclusion)

“Pregnant?” I exclaimed. “How is that even possible?” My eyes were as wide as saucers and my my lower jaw hung down to my chest. I was so flabbergasted that I had dropped the cup of coffee I was holding for the doctor down on the floor below.

“Um, you do know how babies are made, don’t you, Mister LaRoque?” the doctor said dryly, a hint of a smirk cracking over his thin lips.

“Yes, of course,” I said as I carefully stooped down to pick up the now empty coffee mug. My belly was starting to get so big and round that even something as simple as stooping down to pick up a cup off the ground was becoming an arduous task.

“I think what he means,” Sylvia chimed in, “is look at us. We’re both totally obese. How are two people as fat as us even able to make a baby? I thought it was really hard for a woman my size to get pregnant.”

“Well you two are sexually active, aren’t you?” said the Doctor. Sylvia and I looked at one another, both of our faces were red. Sexually active was an understatement; we’d basically been joined at the pelvis nonstop for months. “As long as you’re able to still have sex you can make a baby,” Dr. Zane continued. “Life always finds a way.”

“So what do we do now?” I said as I pushed myself back up from the floor. “Isn’t this a very high risk situation?” As I said this I could see a look of worry come over Sylvia’s face.

“There are risks,” said the doctor, “but there are risks in any situation, and there’s a lot we can do to help.”

I was stunned, and I didn’t know what to do or say. I guess I was foolish to think that we were somehow protected from something like this happening just because we both happened to be super-fat. My mind was racing, inside I was panicking, but I had to try and be strong for Sylvia.

“Marco,” the good doctor said, sensing the state of unease I was drowning in, “could I have a word with you in private?”

“Sure, doc.” I said.

“You just relax, Miss Sylvia,” he said, patting her lightly on her tummy before making his way toward the doorway where I was still standing. “Everything is going to be just fine.”


The doctor pulled me aside in the hallway, and we had a very frank discussion about what was going to happen. He told me that there were many precautions they could take, and that a woman Sylvia’s size would be capable of carrying a baby to term without issue under proper medical supervision.

“Now obviously,” he said to me, “because of her size we can’t just plop her in an ambulance and bring her to the hospital; so the best thing to do would be to bring some staff and some equipment here to you.” Then his eyes started darting about, as if he were evaluating his surroundings.

“Do you rent?” he asked point blank.

“Oh, no,” I said, “I own this place. I’ve lived here since I was in college. Its not fancy but it’s all mine.”

“Good,” he said, “we should consider taking down this wall.”

Dr. Zane patted his hand against the wall, indicating that he wanted to open up the bedroom so that it would connect to the main living area. He then went into some detail about all of the monitoring equipment he wanted to bring in, telling me that there would need to be a nurse on duty at all hours of the day and night.

“Now I realize most insurance plans might not cover such special treatment,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “So if you think this is going to be a problem let me know and I can see if we can make some other arrangements.”

“Listen, doc,” I said to him earnestly, “you might not guess it by looking at this place I live in, but my family actually has a lot of money. I haven’t been too close with my parents lately as they don’t exactly approve of Sylvia’s and my lifestyle, but when they hear that they have a grandchild on the way — they will do whatever it takes.”

“Okay, fair enough,” replied the doctor. “Let me get back to my office, I’ll make some phone calls and do some paperwork, and we’ll get this show on the road!”


When Dr. Zane was gone, I went in to see how Sylvia was doing. She had a smile on her face, but I could tell that she had been crying after we left the room.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I never thought I’d actually be a mom.”

“Do you want to be a mom?” I asked her as I walked over to her and took her by the hand. “I support whatever you feel, Sylvia. I really do.”

“Well,” she said, “I don’t know — I mean I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t excited. I’ve always thought it would be so wonderful to have a family someday.”

I put my other hand on top of her massive abdomen and rubbed gently. She felt so soft and warm as she lay naked in a bed that was barely big enough to hold her. Feeling the smooth round surface of her belly, realizing that there was more than just layers of fat inside of there now — that’s when it really dawned on me that I was about to be a father!

“But look at us,” she said, gazing down at the mammoth pile of flab before her. “Look at me! I’m huge. How in the hell am I supposed to take care of a baby?”

“You’re not the only one,” I said to her, grabbing a handful of my own lard. “Look how fat I’ve gotten over the past year. Can you imagine me running around after a little one?”

We both chuckled a bit before looking at one another wistfully. The truth is, we both could imagine it. Even though there would be risks, even though it would be a challenge, and likely mean a big change in our lifestyle with both of us having to make major compromises and sacrifices — deep down we knew that this was something we both wanted.


The next several weeks brought about rapid change. Sylvia slowly started to regain her appetite, and upon Dr. Zane’s insistence I continued to feed her just as much as I did before we found out about her pregnancy. “She’s a very large woman with an overextended stomach — she needs to be eating almost constantly in order to keep up her strength and insure that she and the baby are getting the nutrients they need.”

My trips to the market doubled in frequency, and Nestor the butcher and all the other vendors were so excited when I told them about our good news. All of them kicked in some extra grub on top of our usual orders to help ensure that Sylvia would stay extra well-fed.

Her body was growing at an alarming rate. It was hard to imagine that one little baby inside of her was causing her get so much bigger, but between all of the extra calories she was consuming, the hormones raging around inside of her and an overabundance of amniotic fluids, her belly was inflating bigger and bigger by the day.

But her belly wasn’t the only thing that was getting bigger. Her breasts were becoming engorged with enough milk to fill an ocean, and her nipples began seeping persistently. After a little while the nurse had to rig up a special pump that we attached to her that would suck up all the milk and store it in these large bags. Before long she was producing about thirty gallons per day.

The nurse was a sweet little old lady named Gloria. We put her up in one of the guest rooms in the apartment, and she mostly stayed out of our way. She just came in from time to time to take Sylvia’s temperature and heart rate, make sure she was comfortable and sometimes help me with the task of feeding her.

One evening before bed, I was helping Gloria change out the bag on the breast pump when she looked at me and gave me a nudge and a wink. “You know,” she said, “I’m willing to bet that you could help her take care of all this milk as good as this bag can.” She giggled lightly and dimmed the lights before she left the room.

“You thirsty, big boy?” I heard Sylvia coo, looking at me through the darkness with her come-hither eyes. Pulling the nozzle off of her nipple, a small geyser of thick white fluid formed on top of her chest. “Come and get it!” she told me.

Rushing over, I placed my mouth around the circumference of her areolae, and a steady stream of breastmilk gushed down the back of my throat. It was so thick and sweet, it was like drinking a milkshake straight from the fountain at the ice cream parlor. I sucked and sucked and sucked for hours, alternating between the left and right breasts — until I was so full I felt like I might bust.

“Ugh! No more!” I groaned as I fell backward into a chair in the corner of the room, grabbing my massively swollen belly and letting out a loud belch. “One more drop and I think I’m gonna pop!”

“Hehe, look at you,” Sylvia teased, “your belly is so huge now! You’d better watch out or they’re going to think you’re the pregnant one here.”

Her milk was so plentiful, so rich and fattening; I must have put on close to forty pounds as a result of just that one evening. I sat back in that chair like a lump for hours, feeling the liquids sloshing around inside of me as my stomach worked overtime to digest it all. I was in a lot of discomfort, but it was worth every second of it. Suckling on Sylvia’s lactating breasts was a good way for us to stay close and maintain physical intimacy. By this point both of us were getting way too big and fat and Sylvia’s condition was much too delicate to try and hit it like we used to do.

LJR-POT3-021521.03.0.jpg
 

LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 4, 2005
Messages
3,316
Location
,
As time went on and we grew closer to the due date, things got a bit more serious. Sylvia’s system was being pumped full of medicines to regulate her blood pressure and glucose as well as for pain management. Most days the best thing she could do would be to sleep and try to rest comfortably. She had tubes coming out of her nose pumping oxygen into her system, and all manner of wires were connected to her to monitor hers and the baby’s heart rates and other vital signs.

I’m not going to lie, it was a little scary to see my love hooked up to all those machines and all zonked out, but Dr Zane reassured me that everything was going to be just fine.

Dr Zane had a special feeding machine brought in, as Sylvia was sleeping nearly all day everyday now. “She’d got to keep up her strength,” said the doctor. “See that she still gets all the foods she likes best. Whatever it is, just drop right into this compartment and the machine will grind it up for her.” There was a long tube that was inserted into the back of her throat, pumping a liquified mix of calorie-ladened food directly into her stomach.

Feeding Sylvia this way became an unending task for me. Every hour on the hour I’d stuff that machine full of meats and cheeses, entire chickens and hams, sacks of potatoes and bushels of apples, cakes and pies and tubs of ice cream - all of it quickly whipped into a soft and frothy cream and guzzled down into Sylvia’s gut. She was being filled out like a balloon attached directly to a faucet. Her body expanding more and more by the minute. In time she would come to be a massive spherical blob of fat.

When the time came for her to deliver, Dr. Zane brought in a team of doctors, surgeons and nurses to assist with the arduous task of bringing this new life into the world. Since a conventional birth was out of the question, the doctors were going to have to give her a Caesarean section, remove several layers of fat via liposuction, and then deliver the baby all at once. It was a big job, and it took hours.

I couldn’t watch, I was a nervous wreck. I sat outside on the couch, nervously twiddling my thumbs. It felt like I could barely breathe, and my life was flashing before my eyes. I thought about the first time Sylvia and I met, our first date and that first day that she told me she wanted to get fat for me. We’d had a beautiful life together, and whatever happened now, whatever changes were to come, I was just grateful that we had the life that we did.

Hours later, Dr Zane came out and said, “Congratulations, dad! Mom and baby are both doing just fine.”

What a relief!


EPILOGUE


Well the sad news is that Sylvia is nowhere near as big and fat as she once was. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still really big - well over four hundred pounds. But she’s able to get around now and she’s a great mother to our baby.

As for me, thanks to Sylvia’s unending supply of super-fattening breast milk I am now officially the biggest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m almost to the point of getting so fat that I might soon become immobile myself. I never thought I would enjoy being this fat and heavy, but it really does feel good.

My parents have really come around and accepted and embraced the life that Sylvia and I have chosen for ourselves - and they just adore their little grandchild. In fact, they even had a house built for us on their compound so that we could be closer to them. It’s an absolutely stunning mansion, with lots and lots of space, extra wide doorways and even an elevator so that Sylvia and I don’t have to drag our fat asses up and down any stairways.

We still have our apartment though, and every so often Sylvia and I will head back into the city, just the two of us, while my parents happily babysit for us. We’ll go to the market just like we used to, and then head back to the old apartment and have a massive pig-out session. We’ll stuff ourselves and one another till we’re both fat and happy, and then we’ll love each other until we’re out of breath and covered in sweat.

“Do you ever wonder,” Sylvia whispered in my ear one early morning as we lay in bed together, basking in the afterglow from a night of intense lovemaking, “what it would be like - if I got pregnant again?”

“Whatever happens,” I told her, “I know that we’ll be okay just as long as we have each other.”

She kissed me softly on the lips before nuzzling her head into my chest, the plumpness of her fat belly rubbing up against mine. As we both drifted off to sleep, holding one another as closely as we could, I remember feeling so much love and so much gratitude for this wonderful life that we were both lucky enough to have together.
 

LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 4, 2005
Messages
3,316
Location
,
Flabulous!!! A must read for any fa to read. Especially this one though, it kept going and going and going.....you picking up a trend, lmao. Great writing my man.
Thank you very much, @Mr. Jigglesworth. I appreciate the endorsement and the encouragement. I'm finally getting around to finishing up the backlog of story ideas I started over the summer. I've posted a few things on my other sites, I hope to post some new stuff here soon too!
 

Latest posts

Top