chapter 1

I can still smell your scent, I realise with glee.

The warmth of your body against mine as we had made love, your beard brushing coarsely against my skin as you kissed down my jaw, biting at my neck, burying your face into the depth of my clevage. Your tongue playfully teasing one of my pert nipples as your fingers trace the other. I had felt myself give in to you. My resolve, the dominance I had maintained the night before as you lay back,  overfed belly distended out in front of you, giving way to this tenderness. I wanted your loving. Your tenderness. This pleasure. And so I had felt my body melt into yours.

I can still feel the way your belly felt against me. Soft now. A little layer of fat formed from your indulgence. I can feel it jiggle against me, slapping down onto my own little body. It's still heavy. But... I can take a handful of it now that its not too full for me to jiggle and to shake. You had enjoyed how I moaned as you told me that last night,  teasing me as I slapped it, reminding me to be gentle with your glutted gut.  Yet, in wrapping myself up in your embrace this morning, I had felt it squeeze between my thighs. The after effects that such indulgence brings... is this indulgence growing on you? Are you finally getting a little fat?

The thought only teases me more.  I close my eyes drawing the image of our tenderness close.

It was as if you had known my thoughts. As if to remind me that you still have strength, that you can still take a little control. You lift me, sweeping me onto you, holding me up so that you can take hold of my hips, cup my ass, pull me closer to feel the arch of my back,  as I sit down onto you. I can feel the strength of your legs beneath me. The tight embrace of your arms, and the muscles that work there to hold me close...

But between my thighs, pooling out from your middle, there is a little belly that sits between us. It doesn't take long for my hands to find their way to it.

Our love has lingered on my skin; my hair, in the way that my cheeks are still blushed from the sweet heat of your body pressed to mine; and so I find myself again craving you. My own indulgence.

In the quiet moments of my day, I find my mind wondering to that. To our greed for your belly, and the pleasure that stuffing. It's almost intoxicating. To have your belly stuffed, and round as it was and find myself knowing that I want more...

I think of you at your fullest. Or, what you had claimed to be your fullest....

A hand tenderly on your belly - almost holding it, cradling it gently,  massaging it at the sides.. you moan when I pat it a little too roughly.  I know that moan. It's a moan of fullness... the little involuntary gasp that you give feeling the sensation of my touch on your tight skin. But in that fullness, there is pleasure... it's a moan of want. This - this huge, overfed belly, excites you...

I can feel that too, in the excitment that throbs beneath me - not that you can see it. You are too round to see your own lap. Too stuffed to sit forward easily. Your belly spills heavily downwards. Pressing onto my thighs. Spilling into our lap... you could probably feel its weight against your hardness.  Certainly, after I grip you firmly. Playing gentle with you, trying not to jiggle your fullness, as I do.  

You had been begging for more until then. Loving the way that I rocked a little in my own involuntarily need.  In the way I arched my back and took in a little gasp of air; my body trembling in pent up pleasure... when you let out a small belch and demanded more.

You had long since been full... stuffing more and more to feel that expanding pressure of a full belly. Loving the ache that grew in your growing gut, and the effect that this new heaviness had on me.  You've been pushing your limit... eating for my pleasure. To impress me. Coaxed, and goaded on by my growing need of you.

Now you rest your head back, trying to shift under the beach ball like girth of your belly. You can't do it... not really.  I can see your skin stretched and red. Your breaths are shallow... somehow deep at the same time. There isn't enough room for you to take a full breath. 

From under your chest your belly juts out in a steep curve. Its pressing out at the sides. Its bulging. Its tight. Its heavy.

It was probably way over fed several thousand calories ago. But again and again,  I lift another bite to your lips, pressing it into your mouth as you try to protest. I can't tell now. Are your moans from pleasure? Or from this stuffed belly? 

You seem to like my reaction as you take your final bite, finally gasping and groaning as you realise I'm relenting. That I'm satisfied that you can't eat another bite. As you tell me in pants how full you are.

You look immense when you are gorged like this. And you are still growing; the food inside you resting more and more heavily as it settles.  

This was supposed to be a little indulgence... a one off stuffing. But instead it has awakened within me want. And I find myself lost in those thoughts... knowing more and more than when I return home. When I fall back into your arms tonight, I'm going to feed you up again.

We are not done with this hedonism yet. Are you ready to eat for me again? This time... bigger.  Let me make you huge.