chapter 1

Your belly has such an effect on me. Every inch that you swell, every calorie that you consume. It pleases me. I find a little more pleasure; my body fills with such an intensity… Just seeing you’re gut as you indulge for me. Every photo. Every video. Every calorie that you consume for me.

I thought about you; over these past months, as you have ate and indulged. Always wanting more. Growing fat… heavy… I want your belly. I want your gut. Will you stuff for me? Eat for my desires.

As I lay here, my heart racing, my back arched as my thighs tremble holding back my excitement for you… I can’t tell you where my mind goes. I can't put into words the burning desire I have for you. I need you to taste. To feel. To please.

Seeing you reclining against the dining chair so that your plump belly pushing forwards... sitting over your opened waist band of too tight shorts. If you sat forward, which you can't without moaning, hands protective on your gut as if holding it will stop some of its weight pressing you back, it would press onto your lap... it would sit heavy and overfed between your thighs...

I want to press my fingers into it. Feeling the softness of fat on your lower belly. Taking a handful and making you moan now as I jiggle it... we have maybe fed you too much over the last few days. Certainly, the straining buttons on your shirt tell me so... Is this going to be a permanent fixture on your strong body? Should we grow you a little belly?

I can see the way the fabric is taut; not meant for accommodating such a gut... how it fits everywhere else on your slim body. But from just below your chest where the globe of your stomach juts out; across this heavy, overfed ball - right down to the softness at the bottom. Well, its struggling to be contained. I can really see it struggling… already there are gaps in the lowest three buttons where can see glimpses of the skin beneath. And it makes me want you more.

I want to be rubbing your belly gently with my hands. With you looking down and watching, in enjoyment... of my touch, my kisses... how round you are pressing into my little body. If I sit up, I may rub it with other things. I may ride it a little. Would you mind?

I would lean towards to kiss you; my breasts resting heavily on your belly as I do, my fingers pressing into your upper gut as my lips near yours... so that the pressure on your swollen gut makes you moan... I want you plead a little for me to be more gentle. That you are too full.
But we both know you aren’t done yet.

"Time for more", I command as you try to tell me you're too full, that you've had enough... "I know you're hungry... I want you to stuff for me... I need you full..."

I beg in your ear with that; rubbing your belly, letting myself grind a little against it, my kisses deepening, my tongue exploring a little as my hands continue to slap at your gut... "eat..." my tone is soft...its still part of my begging, my need for you... but theres a finality to it. A firmness; that tells you that this is a command. And we both know that you're going to please me... that you're going to gorge more with an already stuffed belly.

Because this excites me. And you crave my desire. Because already, I can feel your own excitme beneath me. You might be telling me how full you are, but I know. I know you love it. I know you want more. That this hedonistic need to gorge is going to fuel, the closest love. That for hours I will adore... please. Need... just a little more.

I reach over and pull a plate closer... its piled high with muffins. A dessert, I smile, and lift one to your lips, one hand rubbing your belly as the other feeds you. Gently at first... lovingly. But you grow Keener as you feel the fabric of your shirt strain more and more. By the time you're done, I can see two little bulges on your belly pressing their way through the buttons; the fat spilling out.

I let you drink some cola; rocking a little as it makes me belch and moan... swelling your belly further.

When I don't lift another muffin for you... you have to sit forward... feeling the weight of your belly shift... you manage to, moaning with the dense feeling of being overfed... I want to watch you struggle under the wait of your overfed gut. Indulged beyond your limits. Eating more for me. I want to see that rounded lower belly fill onto your thighs. To feel it in my lap… Even if it takes a few attempts for you to sit up.

Your hands go to your belly... joining mine to massage it... as the first of your buttons give way... just above your middle; it now sits open... you are moaning again; but now I know it's from pleasure and fullness... as I feel the throb from between my own thighs; as the moan gasps in my throat; and my need and want for pleasure from you heightens...


This belly is so big that it can't be contained... you might have ate too much... but you reach for the next few hundred calories anyway; rock hard beneath me. Knowing you love being this full... well, you will feel my passion for it in the depth of my kisses...

Would you eat for your feeder even then? I want more. I want you here, in this bed with me. To test just how hungry you are.. to see just how far, how fat, you would be willing to get to please me... us.