chapter 2

It is minutes there like that, but then I hear the fry continuing and turn back surprised and worried for my food with a pout. I feel him smiling behind me, feel his erection through his pants against my bottom. Feel him kneel behind me as he sets a box of fresh jelly-filled pastries by the stove. His thumbs sink into my bottom, inner thighs, and then against my labia. I squirm and moan, with my last sense pulling the finished food to the middle of the stove, the burner instantly cool to the touch. He rolls my thighs and tilts my hips forward, raising me to him, and his long thick tongue strokes against my wet wet vulva its entire length, teasing and tasting and flicking and making me writhe. I know what he wants, and I begin eating, even as he eats me.

He brings me to the edge and keeps me there, until the fry up is gone except for its grease, covering my mouth and hands. He knows when I've finished, and he mercilessly stops just as I am about to climax, kissing up my soft skin and to the back of my neck as I whine, frustrated. But he is not a cruel lover, and, naked now himself, he sits on a chair and sits me on his lap, his thick rod hard and erect between my thighs, so rigid and long that I can't help but grind myself against it, as he knows, and he holds an arm under my breasts to pull me against his chest as he begins feeding me the sweet desserts he brought for me. Pulsing and vibrating between my legs, I can't help but pity the women that came before genetic engineering and male bodies that could do things beyond previous imagination. It is like this that I reach my first peak, and sensing it, he forces the rest of a donut into my mouth, and my throat opens and swallows and I feel my stomach stretch wonderfully as I orgasm around his shaft, my thighs squeezing together as his pulsing reaches a pinnacle and he holds and squeezes me even tighter against him, and climaxes himself in wonderful waves, seedlessly, with me, extending my own climax into minutes of unbridled ecstasy.

It isn't until the last tremors have stopped that my eyes flutter open, and I smile at my man, as he has continued feeding me the whole time.

I am full now, so full, and he carries my naked body to our bed. There he covers me up and I fall asleep almost instantly as my modified chemistry takes away my control, and begins its rapid processing of everything I'd consumed into fresh new fat.

The more than three thousand calories transforms into a full pound of adipose over the next hour as I sleep. But when I awaken to the smell of deliciousness, my tummy rumbling so hungrily and emptily it is almost painful, I realize I have gained much more than a pound. As I turn to sit on the edge of the bed, Michael is already there, helping me and supporting me, and as I rise with his arms around me, I feel myself shift and sag ecstatically as each wave of flesh transforms into a wave of pleasure. He has slipped my second suit on while I slept, and so another 42 pounds has burdened my feminine shape, exaggerating and softening it even more. At 182 pounds, I take my first step forward, unsteadily except for Michaels grip around my back and on my arm--though as his fingers sink in I fill my knees quake from more than the exquisitely-unwillingly added poundage. My fat molds against him as I fall against his chest, into his arms, but his muscled body still easily catches and lifts me--for now.

Hard hands sink into thick and rounded bottom, deeply, until within the fat they finally find purchase and pull me up to his lips, and I kiss him, hear his breath deepen with excitement, and I moan erotically and teasingly in his ear, urging him wordlessly to follow his instincts and his passion, further than he has even already done, to be ruled by them and let them rule us both.

He carries his fat wife, my flesh now thick enough to bulge around his limbs, to our couch. There my eyes go wide--and scared. I have second thoughts suddenly about following his passion fully. Enough food for a family of ten ladens our table, and as soon as he has sat me down between his legs, my new back fat against his chest and arm and my thighs squishing over his leg, he squeezes my chubby upper arms and kisses me on my chubby cheek and begins feeding me once more.


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)*: To Be Continued... ;-}



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By this deviant tale, I hope you're pleased.

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Comments and critiques
I greatly appreciate.
Thank you for reading.


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Notes, Comments, and Interesting but Incomplete Ideas, Additions, and Continuations

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Been going different ways with this one. Thinking about an idea in two parts, the first being the conclusion of this at maybe 300 lbs, and the second being a later one where her lover has secretly requested time off for her, and her largest suit is now immobile, and when she puts it on, he refuses to take it off, and instead feeds her and makes love to her immobile for a full month before she has to go back to work and he takes it off--doesn't tell her when she has to go back in advance, of course, so she doesn't know how long it will last. However, I am not sure about this idea, as it feels a little like the ideas for DFfL