The Fattening

Chapter 1 - Oh she knows

"You're staring again," she said, flicking a popcorn kernel at him from across the couch. He didn’t deny it. Her tank top had ridden up just enough to expose the soft curve of her stomach where it pressed against the waistband of her sweatpants—the same sweatpants she’d joked last week were getting snug.

He reached over, fingers tracing the warm dip of her navel before sliding up to where her skin folded slightly when she slouched. She exhaled sharply, but didn’t push him away. Instead, she arched into his touch, a smirk playing at her lips. "That tickles," she lied, her voice dropping low.

Her hand covered his, pressing his palm deeper into the softness. The fabric of her shirt stretched tighter as she shifted, and he could feel the faint resistance of her belly against his fingers—fuller than it’d been last month, rounder than he remembered. His pulse kicked up when she guided his hand lower, past the waistband, where hot skin met his touch without barriers.

"You like how it feels, don’t you?" she murmured, her breath hitching as his thumb swiped over the sensitive curve just above her hips. The unspoken admission hung between them, thick as the heat pooling under his ribs. She bit her lip, watching his reaction through heavy-lidded eyes—testing, teasing, daring him to admit it out loud.

His grip tightened instinctively, fingers sinking into the plush flesh spilling over the elastic band. The sound she made wasn’t a protest; it was something darker, needier. She wriggled closer, letting him feel the full weight of her against his thigh—the way her stomach pressed into him now, how the softness jiggled faintly with each shifting movement.

"You’re obsessed," she whispered, dragging his hand up under her shirt, letting him cup the swell of her belly properly for the first time. The warmth of her skin seared his palm, and he could feel the faint stretch marks under his fingertips—evidence of how much she’d changed. His throat went dry. "Say it," she urged, grinding against him slowly.

He didn’t trust his voice, so he showed her instead—kissing her hard, fingers digging into the softness as she moaned into his mouth. She yanked her shirt off in one impatient motion, revealing rolls that hadn’t been there six months ago, spilling over her waistband in a way that made his cock throb. "Fuck," he muttered, palming her like she was something precious.

Her laugh was breathless as she pushed his hand lower, past the waistband again, where her panties were already damp. "Say you love it," she demanded, rocking against his fingers. Her stomach jiggled with the movement, and he watched, hypnotized, as the soft flesh quivered under his grip. "Say you love how fat I’m getting."

He groaned, fingers slick between her thighs as she ground down harder. "Christ, yes," he admitted, voice rough. His other hand kneaded the soft swell of her belly, fingertips digging into the warm, yielding flesh. She arched into his touch, panting, her skin flushed and sticky under his palms.

The couch creaked as she straddled him fully, her weight pressing him deeper into the cushions. He could feel every inch of her now—the way her stomach folded against his chest, how her thighs spread wider than they used to, the jiggle of her hips as she rocked against him. She grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands to roam over her body, over every new curve. "Tell me what you love most," she breathed, lips brushing his ear.

His fingers found the stretch marks along her sides first, tracing them like they were secrets only he knew. "This," he growled, gripping the soft roll just above her hips as she moved. "The way you feel—like you're mine." Her answering moan was filthy, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rode his thigh with deliberate slowness, letting him watch the ripple of flesh with every motion.

She dragged his hand up to her chest, where her breasts had grown heavier, spilling between his fingers. "And this?" she teased, squeezing his hand around the soft weight. He swore under his breath, thumb circling her nipple—harder now, just from feeling her, from seeing how much she'd filled out. "Fuck, yes," he admitted, voice ragged. "The way you jiggle when I touch you."

Her hips jerked forward, pressing her stomach against his chest as she rode him harder, the wet heat between her thighs soaking through his jeans. "Tell me you want more," she panted, fingers tangled in his hair, forcing him to look at her—at the way her belly curved, at the sweat glistening in the creases of her skin. "Say it."

His hands slid down to grip her ass—fuller now, spilling over his fingers—and he groaned at the sheer weight of her. "I want you fatter," he rasped, biting the soft swell of her hip. "Wanna feel you everywhere." She shuddered, thighs clamping around him as she came with a broken cry, her stomach quivering against him.

The scent of her—sweet sweat and arousal—filled his nose as she slumped forward, breath hot against his neck. Her belly pressed into him, soft and warm, and he couldn’t stop kneading it, fingers sinking into the plushness. "Look at you," he muttered, thumb tracing the deep crease where her stomach met her thighs. "Fucking perfect."

She laughed, breathless and smug, dragging his hands up to cup her breasts again. "You’re hard as hell just from this," she teased, rolling her hips against his erection still trapped in his jeans. "Admit it—you’d lose your mind if I got even bigger." He didn’t answer, just gripped her hips tighter, imagining the stretch marks she’d have next year, the way her ass would spill over his lap.

Her nails scraped down his chest as she leaned back, arching so her belly curved outward, the soft flesh trembling with the movement. "Touch me," she demanded, guiding his hands down to where her thighs spread wider, to the wet heat he could smell now, thick and inviting. His fingers slid into her easily, and she moaned, grinding down hard enough to make the couch groan under them.

She didn’t wait—just popped the button of his jeans with one sharp twist and yanked them down far enough to free his cock. It twitched against his stomach, already slick at the tip, and she smirked before sinking onto him in one slow, deliberate slide. The breath punched out of him as she took him deep, her belly pressing against his abs, warm and heavy. "Fuck, you feel good," he gritted out, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

Her stomach relaxed fully as she rolled her hips, the softness of it spilling forward, jiggling with every thrust. She moaned, loud and shameless, nails digging into his chest. "Sixteen stone," she panted, grinding down until their pubic bones met. "You like that? Knowing how much of me you’ve got to fuck?" His groan was answer enough, hips jerking up to meet her, but she pinned him down with her weight, letting him feel every pound as she rode him.

The slap of skin filled the room, her thighs trembling with exertion, her belly swaying in time with her movements. He grabbed a handful of it roughly, fingers sinking into the plush flesh as she arched back, her tits bouncing, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Harder," she demanded, and he obliged, thrusting up into her with a snap of his hips that made her cry out—a sound swallowed by the wet noise of their bodies colliding.

She leaned forward suddenly, pressing her sweat-slick stomach flush against his chest, her lips brushing his ear. "You think I didn’t notice?" she breathed, voice thick with triumph. "The way you kept feeding me? The way you'd watch me eat?" Her chuckle was dark as she ground down, forcing him deeper. "I knew. I fucking knew." His hands slid down to grip her ass—fuller, heavier—and she moaned, rolling her hips slow and dirty. "So I let you have it."

Her belly jiggled against him with every thrust, the soft flesh quivering under his palms as she rode him harder. "Every dessert," she gasped, nails raking his shoulders. "Every midnight snack—you wanted this." His fingers dug into the crease where her thighs met her hips, slick with sweat and her own wetness, and she shuddered. "Say it," she demanded, rocking forward until her stomach folded against his chest, warm and yielding. "Say you fucking planned this."

The couch groaned beneath them as she arched back, letting him watch the way her belly trembled with each movement, the stretch marks glistening under the dim light. "Last week," she panted, dragging his hands up to knead her breasts, heavy and full in his grip, "I bent over to pick up your shirt—felt the seam split right up my ass." Her laugh was breathless, wicked. "All I could think about was you behind me, fucking me raw while the denim tore wider."

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her faster, harder, until the wet slap of skin drowned out everything else. She leaned down again, her stomach pressing hot against his chest, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "I ordered takeout three times yesterday." The admission sent a jolt straight to his cock, and she grinned, rolling her hips slow just to feel him twitch inside her. "Ate every bite thinking about your hands on me after."

She straightened suddenly, arching her back to let him see the full swell of her belly—rounder now than ever, stretch marks catching the light as she moved. Her hands slid up to cup her own breasts, squeezing them together, watching his eyes darken. "Could barely button my jeans this morning," she taunted, thumbing her nipples with deliberate slowness. "Had to wear your old sweats instead." His groan was ragged, hands gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks.

She rolled her hips in a slow circle, relishing the way his breath hitched when her stomach jiggled against him. "Bet you didn’t think I’d notice the extra cream in my coffee," she murmured, dragging a fingertip down the crease between her breasts. "Or how you’d always ‘accidentally’ order too much takeout." His hips jerked up, but she pressed a palm to his chest, keeping him pinned beneath her weight. "Admit it," she breathed, grinding down just enough to make him curse. "You’ve been fattening me up for months."

Her fingers twisted in his hair, forcing his head back so she could watch his pupils dilate as she rocked forward—letting him feel the full, soft press of her belly against his ribs. "Remember last month?" she teased, lips brushing his jaw. "When you brought home that triple-layer chocolate cake?" A shudder ran through him as she licked a slow stripe up his neck. "I saw how hard you got watching me lick the frosting off my fingers." Her laugh was low, knowing, as she reached between them to squeeze his cock in her slick fist. "You came in your pants like a fucking teenager."

She released him abruptly, shifting higher to grind the hot cradle of her hips against his stomach instead—letting him feel the sticky wetness smearing his skin as she rolled her weight forward. "You’re so predictable," she taunted, dragging a fingertip through the sweat beading on her sternum before pressing it to his lips. "Two helpings of pasta and your hands were all over me before I could even unbutton my jeans." He sucked her finger into his mouth with a groan, tasting salt and the faint tang of her deposited lipstick from earlier. Her stomach quivered when he bit down lightly on the knuckle. "God, you’re pathetic," she breathed, though the way her thighs clamped around him betrayed her own arousal.

With deliberate slowness, she slid back down onto his cock, the wet heat of her swallowing him whole again—this time without preamble. Her belly slapped against his with the force of it, a soft jiggle reverberating through her flesh as she settled flush against him. "Look at you," she cooed, palming her own stomach with one hand while the other braced against his chest. "Trapped under all this fat." His hips jerked involuntarily, but she pinned him harder, leveraging her weight effortlessly. "Too bad," she sighed mockingly, rolling her hips in a slow, torturous circle. "Guess I’ll just have to ride you until you’re empty."

Her fingers wandered up to toy with her nipples, tweaking them hard while she watched his face contort beneath her. "Remember when these fit in your mouth?" she mused, squeezing the swollen flesh now spilling between her fingers. She arched her back, letting them sway heavy above him—fuller, darker, the stretch marks like delicate silver webs in the lamplight. "Bet you can’t even take half of one now." His choked groan was answer enough as she ground down harder, the slick drag of her insides making his knuckles whiten where they gripped her thighs.

"Seventeen stone?" she teased, rocking forward to press her belly into his chest until his breath came in shallow gasps. The softness jiggled against him with every movement, the creases deepening where her flesh folded. "Eighteen?" She punctuated each number with a slow, filthy roll of her hips, her inner walls fluttering around him. "Or should I just keep stuffing myself until I can’t fit through the fucking door?" His hips bucked wildly beneath her, but she just laughed—low and throaty—digging her nails into the plush love handles now spilling over his lap.

She dragged his hands up to cup the underside of her belly, letting him feel the sheer weight of it—the way it swayed slightly even when she stilled. "Nineteen stone," she murmured, thumbing the deep indentation her waistband had left in her skin. "You’d have to lift my fat just to fuck me properly." His groan was ragged, fingers kneading the doughy flesh as she ground down harder, her stomach slapping against him with wet, obscene sounds. "Or twenty," she breathed, lips brushing his ear, "until I’m soft all over—until you have to hold me open just to find my cunt."

His hips bucked wildly beneath her, but she pressed down harder, pinning him with the full weight of her belly as it spilled forward—warm and quivering against his chest. She slapped both sides of it roughly, the jiggle reverberating through her flesh, the sound sharp in the humid air. His cock twitched inside her at the sight, at the way the softness rippled like water disturbed. "Fuck," he choked out, hands gripping her love handles hard enough to leave marks. "Look at you—" She cut him off with a roll of her hips that sent her stomach swaying, the flesh wobbling obscenely as she rode him.

She arched back with a moan, letting him see everything—the way her belly curved outward now, swollen and heavy, stretch marks glistening with sweat. Her fingers dug into the softness, kneading it roughly as she rode him faster, her thighs trembling with exertion. "Feel that?" she panted, slapping her stomach again—harder this time—and watching his face twist with pleasure as the flesh jiggled against him. "All yours." His hips jerked up into her, his rhythm faltering as her inner walls clenched around him, her belly jiggling with each frantic thrust.

She leaned forward suddenly, pressing her stomach flush against his chest, the warm weight of it pinning him down as she ground against him in slow, dirty circles. "Come on," she breathed, slapping her sides again—once, twice—the sound sharp and wet, her belly quivering violently with the impact. "Fuck me like you mean it." His hands flew to her hips, fingers sinking into the plush flesh as he pistoned into her, their skin slapping together in a rhythm that matched her rough treatment of her own body. She cried out, her belly jiggling wildly as she came—her orgasm wracking her frame, her stomach pressing harder against him with each shuddering contraction.

He followed with a broken groan, hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside her, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on her softening waist. She collapsed forward with a satisfied sigh, her belly squashing against his chest, her breath hot against his neck. For a long moment, they stayed like that—sticky and spent, her weight pressing him deeper into the couch, his hands still tracing the new curves of her body absently.

She rolled off him with a lazy stretch, letting him see the full extent of what he’d helped create—the way her stomach folded when she sat up, the way her thighs spread wider against the cushions. Catching his stare, she smirked and leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “Just wait.” Her teeth nipped at his jaw. “I’m going to show you how fat I can really get.”