chapter 1

I’ve worked hard at the gym and built quite a hunger. Walking through the front door, I see my baby sitting there like a princess with her head in the clouds all day, snacking. Walking up kissing your forehead, “good morning sunshine, did you sleep well?”

With sleepy eyes, you lean back yawning, half of your belly poking out of your shirt “yes baby” as you start to rub your middle. “But I’m a little hungry” Knowing exactly what you’re doing. My eyes light up, and my stomach growls.

“Good, get dressed and lets get out of here, I worked up an appetite at the gym and I’m starving for date night; better yet, date weekend.”

You knowing full and well what a date night consists of and can only dream what a date weekend will be, you leap to your feet; or so you try, but that belly has grown the past few months. You put on that cute little dress, you know the one, the one that shows every curve of your body, and probably outgrew two months ago, with leggings stretched to the max.

Watching me put on skin tight jeans, that may be a size to small, my love handles hanging over the sides. You can make out my pot belly in my large teeshirt. I should switch to xl, but I do love how this makes me look. God I feel like a king.

First stop, the local pub, I know how much you love bar food. I order us a dozen wings, mozzarella sticks, and two beers. Your first beer goes down easy, helping you make room for what’s to come. We immediately get you another beer. I love the silence of our date, staring in your eyes, as you inhale everything in front of.

Our beers are about gone, and the food is almost done too, when the waitress ask “is there anything else I can get you?”

“Yes, We’ll take two more tall beers, and we’ll take an order of cheeseburger sliders, onion rings, nachos and loaded potatoes.” Her eyes question us, but she doesn’t speak up, she knows we’re here to eat and knows how much you can put away. (Plus we tip nicely for privacy).

A few minutes later, we’re finishing up the last of of the wings. You’re dress is starting to look tight, my shirt is filling out, but we need more, we desire more. The rest of our appetizers arrive, we order you a 4th and 5th beer, and your eyes light up, like you haven’t eaten in years. You show no signs of slowing down, but I do; feeling my gut starting to hang out of my shirt. God it feels so good.

Twenty minutes later, you lean back, hands on your sides, eyes glazed over and ask what’s next. Licking your fingers clean. All I want to do is take you home and see what’s happening under those straining seams. But I know you're not done. Helping you to your feet, you grab my little belly and kiss me, saying “you did well, I’m proud of my big strong man.”

Kissing your forehead and hand on your belly, “I’m proud of you, eating like a queen” “Lets get some hot chicken sandwiches next”. Knowing full well you have no willpower when it comes to Nashville Hot Chicken Sandwiches. We slowly walk across the street, I can tell you’re struggling, but I know we want more.

Once inside, you take a seat and I order, getting you a large soda and two meals for us to split. Sadly, I only eat one of the four sandwiches and a handful of fries. But you are a sight to see, its like you’re not even chewing, just inhaling what’s in front of you. Your dress is moving up your belly, but you don’t stop to pull it down, you just keep eating, until nothing is left.

Panting for breath, and not wanting to walk, I asked “do you want to go home?”

“Yes please”

Helping you to your feet, and out the door, a few inches of my gut hanging out of my shirt, but you, you look like you’ve carrying six. We make our way to the tables outside and you have to sit, to catch your breath, hands holding your belly. I lean in, kiss your forehead; “I can’t wait to get you out of these tight close, let me order an Uber, but first…” I look next door at the ice cream shop…”What do you want?”

“Birthday cake, please.”

“How can I say no to that? Wait right here I’ll be right back.” You watch me walk to the shop, my love handles pocking out a little more than before. Thinking to yourself “you must be doing something right.”

A few minutes later I come back with a bag with a qt of birthday cake, chocolate devotion, and apple pie. Plus a soft serve cone for you. “It’s going to be a few minutes for the Uber, here’s something to help that chicken settle.”

Sitting in silence, smiling.

Ubers here, ice-creams gone, I help you stand up and slowly walk to the car, opening the door for you to plop down in. And boy, do you plop, with a thud we hear those leggings having their last day. Skin ripping free, with pleasure. You look over at me in embarrassment, only to see me smiling and like a rock, through my jeans.

Once inside, I rip the rest off of you, sitting you down with a bong and the first quart of ice cream. You look like you’re going to pop, but you want, no need, more. With a deep hit, your eyes glaze over, one hand rubbing your belly the other in the ice-cream. You can’t even wait for me.

My shirt comes off, and you can see the damage I’ve done to myself. A hard strong chest, strong arms, but my gut is like a little keg in front of me. The ideal definition of a dadbod. With heavy breathing I rub my belly watching you eat that ice-cream. Before taking the spoon away from you. Two for you, one for me. Both of your hands on your belly, one of mine.

I start slowing down. Now its time for my fun, rubbing your stuffed belly. So full you’re moaning. Any pressure on your belly hurts, but feels good. With coconut oil, I start at the top of your belly, massaging my way down, helping the food you ate settle. You’re breathing eases up, eyes starting to fall asleep. But don’t sleep yet, as I start kissing your lower belly. Looking up, I can’t see your face. Heaven.

Cuddling up, you can feel my full gut against your back, on your shelf of a butt. My hand running across your growing belly, I can’t believe when we met, I could hold you fully. Now I can’t even reach around us.

“Good night my love, let's continue this tomorrow.”