chapter 1

Have you grown fatter? I tease myself with the thought as I curl into your warmth. There is no doubt that you are still swollen. Full from such a huge indulgence; late into the evening, until we fell asleep. Entetwined in one another's arms, bodies warm and tired from our love. My hands gently caressing the belly that I so adored. That we adored.

This is always so intense with you. You excite me with your gluttony. Your indulgence. I've always found the form of a swollen, overfed belly alluring. The way it pushes forwards and out. A tight little globe needing rubbed. Cared for. More than a little indulged. Grossly, hugely distended and tight. Skin too taut to stretch another inch; forcing little, shallow breaths and stifled little burps.

But you do it so well. Every time your hands go to your swollen middle I feel myself tingle in anticipation. In want. In need. You have my full attention...

You really have captivated me with your gluttony. Your greed. That ever swelling belly. But, I can't help but want more. To want to push your limits.... just a little. One more bite. One more inch. One more pound. One more stuffing.

I can see a little bounce as I slap your belly. A little ripple of softness spling out over your sides... one stuffing too many. But I just want you bigger. 

I am almost desperate for you to eat for me. I am in need of your gluttony. I want to see those hands tenderly rub another few thousand calories too many in your distended belly.

Now its big. Its round. It's full. Its bulging. It is undeniably huge. Immense.

I could beg for you; with your belly so full that it juts out curving from your chest. Pushing outwards to the sides. All of that heaviness demanding room. Making you groan. Making you grow.

I take such pleasure in you're aching, over fed belly. You know from experience... your round belly can fill my thighs. It can hold down my pelvis; pouring down heavily even as you kneel over me. Fat and full.

You have full command of my pleasure. Even when you're too full to do anything but lay back; and clutch your bloated belly. You can make me squirm, gasp just by telling me how full you are. By begging for a little more... when we both know you're near bursting. By begging for no more as you let out a low moan and tell me that you're full. 

I love when your full. But I think its leaving its mark on your waistline... and that just makes me want to feed you more.

A cycle of gluttony and fattening. Ever growing.
With each stuffing your capacity grows a little more. It takes more and more to fill you. And those calories have to go somewhere...

Say you will eat for me, my glutton.

I know you're growing. But it only makes me want more. I am greedy for you.


Beyond full. Beyond stuffed. Again. And again.

I am almost begging... show me your greed.