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we're good with it馃サ
I think I let myself go, guys
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She started off slowly at first.
Ice cream every night. A big breakfast every morning. Never finishing her meals. Always sliding her leftovers to you. Every meal was more buttery, more cheesy, more salty, more, more, more.
It was a subtle change at first. First your once tight pecs started to soften. Then your thighs began to spread a little more each time you sat down. The sitting was becoming more frequent. Then sitting down became squeezing in. You thought this was the end of your carefully crafted physique, in truth it was just the beginning. You hardly noticed the lines between your abs vanishing into your forming belly.
As your belly began to swell her fixation with it grew. She'd rest her hand on it. She'd rub it after dinner. The servings grew. She'd caress it while you slept. She started rubbing it during dinner. At first the growth was slow. Week by week your belly lurched outward. Then, perhaps finally, your straining metabolism gave way and your growth exploded.
You used to jog up the stairs until you realized your new moobs were bouncing on every step. Within weeks you were taking stairs one step at a time, taking deep breaths as you held your arm under your protruding belly to give your back a break. Chairs began to groan and strain under the intense pressure of your growing girth. Your belly entered every room before the rest of you. Now you're the largest person in every room you enter. Your subordinates peak at your immense belly nervously when you chat in the elevator. The bigger it grows the more they stare at it. You love it.
Today's Saturday, your favorite day of the week. She's baking a cake as you sit in your chair, smoking your cigar, and rubbing your humungous belly as it growls beneath your straining shirt. Tonight You'll eat until you can't eat any more. She may even break out the funnel if she wants you to be particularly huge for what comes next. A small protest may escape, but you will succumb to her will. When your belly has reached its throbbing, pregnant maximum she will get on her knees and oil your swollen mound. She may even choke your cock down her throat. Finally, when you're stuffed to the brim and oiled to her liking, you'll take her on the table. Your girth will nearly crush her. You're only a week, maybe two, from shattering the table with your growing body. Her hoarse voice will scream your name in delight as your thrusting belly lords a mighty shadow over her.
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