Chapter 1 - One-Shot

I was watching the clock, waiting for her to come out of the kitchen. The smell of brownies were floating stronger through the house, signaling that they were almost done. For the past week she’s been saying, ‘today’s the day!’ Not to ruin the surprise, but it hadn’t been the day, and I was doubting today would be the day either.

My name filtered through the headphones I was wearing, so I tuned back into the staff meeting I was attending remotely. I’ve always been a bit reclusive, so I jumped at the chance to do this remote data entry job. It was boring, sure, but this way I had very little face to face interaction with my coworkers. I could justify setting up my computer space to be comfortable for gaming and streaming, too, which was my side hustle. If I could say I hustled anything anymore.

“Are you ready?” My wife called from the other room.
“I’m on a call!” I answered, to which she booed dramatically. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t mind her theatrics. My viewers liked her too, when she would occasionally join me on my livestreams. I felt her shadow over me as I left the zoom call. She slid a heaping plate of brownies onto the desk beside my keyboard, with a tall glass of milk respectfully set on the end table, away from my electronics.

“Let me feel, let me feel,” she giggled while I logged off work for the day. She wiggled her hands between my chubby love handles and the arms of my computer chair. My stomach squished between her arms while she fondled the rolls on my sides and tickled the sensitive skin where my gooey blob of a belly folded over my lap.

“Hey,” I protested, stifling a belch while I kicked half heartedly at her. She had the day off, so she’d made me plenty of snacks throughout the day, insisting I kept myself ready. I was pretty full from my 5 cheese omelet, 3 chocolate muffin breakfast, coupled with my leftover pizza lunch, with plenty of crackers and peanut butter in between. But, I sighed as I saw her brownie mountain, I did have some room left for more.

“Today’s the day,” she kissed me, her lips soft against my greasy ones. Her hands wandered over my chest, pinching my nipples as she passed. It wasn’t hard, my chest puffed out over my stomach, bouncing when I walked, wobbling when I ate; positioned perfectly for her easy access.

“That’s what you keep saying,” I rolled my eyes. Lily loved feeding me; she was obsessed with how fat she could make me. She perched herself on top of me, my thighs spread over the chair’s cushion. She sank into my lap and, despite already being bloated, she formed a small indent into my stomach. She picked up a brownie, leaning in to kiss my neck (or whatever was left of it after the last 30 pounds I’d gained,) while feeding me the brownie. It was certainly rich, and it took a few swallows to get the first bite all the way down. She wrapped her arm around me while we started making our way through the plate; she would periodically try to stick her hand between my bulging lovehandles and the arms of the chair. To her credit, at this point there was no room for her hands. The rolls on my sides oozed over and under the plastic, cutting into me in a way that only got more uncomfortable the more I ate and the more my stomach tightened.

My jeans had been unbuttoned since lunch, but that didn’t stop her from trying to pull the zipper down even more as I started breathing heavier. My throat felt thick and my stomach started to strain. Sweat formed under my chest and where my back rolls touched the back of the seat. She offered me the milk and I accepted, downing about half the glass in one go.

“You need a rest?” She asked innocently.
“That only gives me time to realize how full I am,” I told her, slipping one of my hands under my swollen gut, breathing shallowly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. She asked me with her eyes if I needed a break, and I opened my mouth for more. Her legs twitched, signaling that she was getting excited, and stuffed another half brownie in my mouth. I chewed and laboriously swallowed while she adjusted the chair so it was more reclined. She pulled my clingy shirt up, massaging my chest and gently caressing my bloat. I belched through the next bite, stretching my arms by my head and feeling the weight of my stomach press down on me. As I stretched I felt resistance on my sides and started to wonder if she was finally right.

“You’re so sexy,” she purred, giving me the milk to finish. I couldn’t see how many brownies were still on the table with my heaving gut in the way. She took one bite of another brownie, then slowly broke off small pieces to sensually leave chocolate flavor on my lips. This most likely meant this was the last one, and thank god. My stomach bubbled and churned with everything I packed into it today. My jeans were cutting into the flab around my hips, this chair felt hot but I really knew it was me. I was sweating, breathing hard, and starting to feel like I wouldn’t be able to move enough to give her the satisfaction she was looking for. How would she be proved right if I couldn’t move enough to try and get out of the chair?

“Are you ready?” She asked, her own face flushed with the excitement.
“Just give me a minute,” I panted, psyching myself up for the change from reclining to sitting. I propped myself slowly, belching immediately when the pressure increased from my stomach pressing into my lap.

“Do you want hands?” She asked, and I accepted, knowing there was no way I was getting out of this chair under my own strength. We linked hands, and as I went to stand up I felt the wheels spin under the chair. No way. I dropped back down to sitting.

“Try again?” She asked, her voice low and excited. I grasped her elbows this time, took a deep breath in to keep from hiccuping everything I just ate onto the floor, and heaved myself up. The wheels lifted all the way off the floor and I was left with the office chair stuck to my huge rear end. My enormous stomach was wedged tight; my love handles red and stretched against the plastic. My shirt pooled over my chest but stopped at my engorged stomach.

Lily helped guide me back, and excitedly ran to the kitchen, returning with a screwdriver. Just like she’d promised, she unscrewed one arm of the chair and my stomach immediately surged out. I burped so hard that I scared the cat across the room. Lily helped me up again, sitting with me on the couch and grabbing the lotion. She immediately started soothing my skin where it had been pressed against the chair.

“I knew it,” she grinned, finishing up and squirting some extra lotion into her hands.
“You knew I was going to get too fat for that chair all week,” I protested, almost gasping under the weight of my overinflated, stuffed to bursting gut. She used one hand to tease down my jeans and tight fit boxers, finding my limp cock with her other. She started massaging my member under the layer of fat that surrounds my dick, telling me how sexy I am, how hot this is, how she can’t wait to come for me. I can’t see her over my heaving stomach. What she’s doing feels nice, but I’m too stuffed to respond. I feel her other hand start wrapping around the globe I am, but no matter how dexterous or skillfully she tries to please me, I’m too lethargic from the food and can’t get hard. Her soft mouth wraps around my cock and I moan; from food or pleasure I can’t tell anymore.

Eventually she comes around and perches beside me on the couch; there’s no longer room for two people to lay down comfortably beside each other. I hear her vibrator go off and take a minute to appreciate how nice her tits look, bouncing while she orgasms with one hand on her clit and one hand on my soft, limp cock.

She puts her vibrator on the table beside the empty milk glass. We kiss; the feeling of completeness I get from her drifts with me while I begin my attempt to sleep this day off. Her head is on my shoulder, and I know that even though she’ll give me a rest for the next few days, she’ll be back at it as soon as I order a bigger office chair.