#spamtum

[haha--lorge]

ooooooh you wanna read my spamtum fic that i finally got brave enough to post on tumblr soooo bad i am hypnotizing you (part 1, part 2)

[sagittariushomunculus]

sharing a few stupid doodles of ur fav trash man<3

[midnight--umbreon]

He is precious

[meeep-morp]

GET IN LOSER, WE'RE GOING [SHOP NOW TO GET 50% OFF]

[forget-me-not-automaton]

I’m very ready for Fantoccio’s near inevitable ‘popularity’ because I’ve been through extensive training. (The Spamton community)

[haha--exposition]

A day with the big Big Shot part 2

Big Shot Autos, Late afternoon

As you backed into the test-drive parking lot of Big Shot Autos, Spamton spoke the same rehearsed line he'd been saying all day: “SO AS YOU CAN SEE THIS BABY RUNS SMOOTH AS BUTTER! NOT ONLY THAT BUT THE FUEL EFFICIENCY IS DOWNRIGHT CRIMINAL. WE'VE BEEN ON DOZENS AND DOZENS OF TEST DRIVES ALREADY AND ONLY HAD TO REFILL THE GAS ONCE IN THE PAST 3 MONTHS! THIS IS A CITY MODEL THROUGH AND THROUGH, ALLOWING YOU TO NAVIGATE THE STREETS OF CYBER CITY WITH EASE AND GRACE”

You were pretty sceptical this time around. This was the fourth car he was presenting to you today. It's not that those hadn't been good, but it's more-so that you two had been going through cars for a few hours now and he's bound to have run out of “the best rides for you” at some point. Considering that the Cungadero brand mostly focuses on sports cars, you're surprised he's managed to show you such sturdy trucks so far.

The third one you both looked at was the best out of all of them, and would probably be your actual pick for the sort of car you wanted. And yet you were still lurking around the dealership looking at.... well, definitely not the cars anymore.

Your dedication to staying focused on your purchase had gotten weaker and weaker ever since you'd laid eyes on Spamton at the top of those stairs in Big Shot Autos and by now, it had essentially died out. You didn't really care to hold back anymore.

During the second car's test drive you had brushed by his love handles and in the third you pushed down his belly to help him put on his seat belt, allthough you gave him a heads up. But you were still being shameless, and Spamton has grown more and more quiet over time. Not in volume mind you, just with how much he talks about the cars.

Your shamelessness helped you stay calm on the other hand, and you managed to do a bit of small talk during the drives. After all, it hadn't been more than two or three incidents where you ended up touching his beautiful doughy fat. He didn't have to be all that suspicious of you. Just one more ride in another car with him and then you'd get to make your properly informed purchase.

“Right. This one is very nice indeed.” You said, “But I don't know if it quite hits all the spots yet...”

You got out of the car and leaned against the wall next to you, as you heard Spamton groaning. Though it sounded more annoyed than like he was struggling to get out of the car. Once he got out and had waddled over to you, you noticed that he wasn't really smiling anymore.

Uh Oh. Maybe you pushed it too much...

“I THINK I GET WHAT'S GOING ON HERE NOW.” Spamton said.

You cautiously raised an eyebrow as you replied: “....I'm trying to buy a car?”

“OH I THINK IT'S MORE THAN THAT. NO ONE ASKS TO SEE FIVE CARS IN ONE AFTERNOON. NO ONE REFUSES MY DEALS THAT MANY TIMES.” Spamton said, voice lowering ever so slightly.

You were about to stammer out a defence of your behaviour when suddenly Spamton took a step closer to you and his belly got you pinned between him and the wall behind you. You were just about ready to bluescreen then and there, the steam escaping your mouth and head immediately.

Spamton leaned forward even more, pushing you further against the wall with his gut and knocking the air completely out of your lungs. One of his chubby hands rested on his flabby side while the other was resting on the wall next to your head. Those dimples on his knuckles were so cute but you almost felt like he'd squeeze you to death if you looked away from his face now, so you fought a small internal war with yourself to not turn your head.

At this point Spamton was smirking at you. You were too riled up to tell if it was a mischievous, flirtatious or downright evil smirk. But you knew that whatever he was about to do to you would send you to an Ambyu-Lance for overheating.

“YOU'RE INTO THIS AREN'T YOU. YOU'VE BEEN OOGLING AND GROPING AND SLOBBERING OVER MY FAT BODY ALL AFTERNOON. DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE?”, Spamton said slowly yet with clear purpose.

Your voice was a shaky, squeaky mess when you replied: “W-well I- I just uh... Like... I thought... Th-that I just... I mean... Y'know... Car... Need one... But also like... uh...”

“I GET IT, I GET IT, DON'T YOU WORRY~” Spamton lowered his head a little so he was keeping perfect eye-contact without risking poking you with his nose. He put one of his chubby hands on your chin and you almost melted into the soft yet powerful touch. When he spoke again his voice was a low whisper that made your heart flutter: “But really, you should've said somethin' sooner, toots. You made me miss my dinner break with your foolin' around.”

As if on cue, Spamton's stomach let out a deep and loud growling noise. You could feel the rumble of it throughout his belly. Fuck, he was Good at this.

“Tell you what I got a deal for ya.” His salesman voice was completely gone, replaced with an urban drawl that sounded just heavenly to you. “You get your 'one more ride'. But we stop for a bite at a place by the edge of town. And then I'll want to have a ride too if you get what I mean.”

You had only the faintest idea of what he meant by having a ride of his own, but nodded furiously anyways. Honestly in this condition, he could've ordered you to break into the Queen's mansion and you would've said yes.

Spamton finally stepped back and you nearly fell to your knees, panting for air like you had just run a marathon.

While you were still catching your breath, he already grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him. He was extraordinarily strong for someone this fat and you stumbled helplessly behind him, almost tripping and faceplanting into his ass when he stopped.

“THIS ONE'S YOUR LAST RIDE FOR TONIGHT. AFTER THAT YOU'LL HAVE TO MAKE UP YOUR MIND.” Spamton said as he opened the driver's seat door for you and unceremoniously dropped you off inside. How gentlemanly...

Your mind was finally returning to you at least. You buckled your seatbelt as you watched Spamton squeeze his massive ass into the car.

This one was easily the smallest car you had looked at today. The seat was pushed all the way back and yet he was getting squeezed by the door and the glove box, his side rolls touching your thighs.

And then the motherfucker even looks at you expectantly and holds his seatbelt out to you.

Your head starts steaming again right away but you accept the challenge. Belt in one hand and his rolls getting downright massaged by the other, you struggled to put it on him for several minutes. Not to mention that Spamton was making no effort whatsoever to help you out. It seemed he has gone full brat mode.

You absolutely needed to fuck him tonight.

Finally you were off, with Spamton telling you about a Burger Joint located just in front of the Cyber Fields, called In-And-Outline Burgers. That was already nearly an hour of driving, not to mention with him squeezed into you the entire time. You weren't sure if you were going to survive that long but felt too determined (and horny) to give up now.

Once you were out of the centre of town, Spamton undid his seatbelt and started gasping in discomfort. He rubbed the indent of the belt that was left over. Before you could help yourself, you had one hand on his love-handles and rubbed a spot there as well. Spamton hummed at you in what you assumed was approval.

Once you got onto the highway and didn't need to pay attention to the traffic ahead as much, Spamton spoke up: “SO. YOU DO THIS OFTEN?”

“W-what the uh. The driving out on dates?”, you asked in reply.

Spamton nodded, squishing his double chin in the absolute cutest way. “YEAH, WITH BIG PEOPLE LIKE ME.”, he said.

Your face started getting hot again as you replied: “Well uh... Yes... B-but I swear I keep it a separate thing from like business and stuff usually! It's just that... You're so...”

“GO ON~” He said, looking at you with a strange glimmer in his eyes.

Without thinking you voiced those horny thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. “So plump... And massive... Just a total picture book example of the perfect cute fatty. A-and to think you blew up this much in just under a year... It's been driving me crazy to think about. You're so gorgeous and jiggly and heavenly fat. I just-” Finally, you caught yourself and put a hand over your mouth. Even if he had asked to hear more that was hardly appropriate, was it?

Spamton let out a small chuckle as he rubbed his belly. “FIRST TIME I'M HEARING ANYTHING LIKE THAT ABOUT MY GAINS. USUALLY IT'S ALL 'Spamton you need to lose weight so you can show yourself to clients again!' 'Spamton your size is scaring away the customers!' 'Spamton, a real successful Addison keeps up with his appearances!' 'Spamton if you keep breaking the chairs you're going to get us in the red!' 'Spamton you're getting way too Big!' AS IF THAT WASN'T MY GOAL! COME ON WHAT KIND OF BUSINESSMAN WOULDN'T WANT TO SHOW THE WORLD HOW FAR HE'S MADE IT?”

You could tell Spamton was letting out quite a bit of pent up frustration. And while you felt bad for him and all the nagging he's had to endure, a part of you was still turned on by hearing about him breaking chairs and being labelled “too big”.

“Well, I definitely mean it when I say I think you're gorgeous at the size you are. And really, it should be your decision how much you do or don't want to gain, customers be damned.” you said.

Spamton's eyes were practically glowing at he grinned at you. “RIGHT? NOT TO MENTION ONCE I GET INTO QUEEN'S MANSION, I WON'T BE PRESENT FOR ANYTHING EXCEPT MONTHLY BOARD MEETINGS, SO WHO CARES HOW BIG I GET? HECK, MAYBE I'LL TRY TO GAIN AN EXTRA 100 POUNDS OR SO IN THE MANSION TO REALLY KNOCK THE SOCKS OFF OF THE BOARD MEMBERS WHEN THEY SEE ME NEXT HAHAHAHEAHAHEAHAHAHAHEA!!” As Spamton cackled to himself over his 'revenge plan' you were starting to steam again, especially cause you could feel his love-handles jiggle against you as he laughed. After a short while he calmed down again.

“OH HEY, THIS IS THE EXIT. DON'T MISS IT.” Spamton said, pointing at a neon sign you whizzed by.

“R-right...”

...

Finally, you had made it to In-And-Outline Burgers. You didn't think that the universe's ultimate challenge of your mental fortitude would be quite so sexy, but you were sweating just from driving here.

At Spamton's request you came into the drive-through and could only helplessly stare ahead as Spamton ordered damn near everything the menu had to offer. After that, he leaned over and told you to pull his wallet out of his suit's pocket. You definitely knew he could reach it himself, especially cause he was sitting down but you complied anyways and dug through the pocket of his pants. Your other hand ended up on his thigh and sunk into him pretty much on its own.

You handed Spamton his wallet, he handed you one of at least 4 credit cards, you handed that to the cashier, and they handed you several grocery-store sized bags of fast food that you had to maneuver to the back-seat. It was a bit of a chore all around but you couldn't stop yourself from grinning as you did it all.

Once you were in the parking lot, Spamton quickly (well, as quickly as he could) got out of the front and switched to the back seat of the car. You followed suit of course. Interestingly enough, the car seemed to have more space towards the back than the front, since you were no longer squeezed against Spamton so tightly.

“THE DIFFERENCE IN SPACE IS BECAUSE THIS IS A CAR FOR LARGE FAMILIES. YA KNOW, MAMA N' POPS SIT IN THE FRONT AND THEN AT LEAST 4 KIDS CAN FIT INTO THE BACK. IT'S ONE OF THE FINEST PIECES OF SPACIAL ENGINEERIN' AROUND IF YOU ASK ME!” Spamton had started rambling unprompted. It was very sweet to see that his enthusiasm for cars wasn't part of the salesman act. His excited rants were just too endearing. “BUT ENOUGH OF THAT.”

His face went from giddy and excited back to that flirtatiously evil smirk he'd given you at Big Shot Autos. “HERE'S YOUR SPECIL DEAL: I GET TO EAT, YOU GET TO WATCH. BUT YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH ME OR GET YOURSELF OFF UNTIL I'VE FINISHED EVERYTHING HERE. GOT IT?”

Now, this was familiar territory to you, getting to watch a cute fatty stuff himself. So technically it should be easy for you to watch and enjoy. But with the way this man's demeanour changed at the drop of a hat, he might as well have asked you to never feel aroused again. He could probably throw you for a loop by whining about a full belly and then immediately scolding you for wanting to give him a belly rub. A true challenge of your will, then.

“I accept.” You spoke slowly, gathering all your strength.

Spamton just gave you a smirk before fishing the first item out of the first bag. A large burger with beef and bacon. He dug in, moaning at the taste and quickly taking two more bites in succession. Guess Spamton hadn't been lying when he said he missed dinner because of you, he was tearing through that first bag like he'd been starving for days. Two more burgers, three servings of large fries, a box of cyber chicken wings and two boxes of nuggets were downed by him in record time.

After that he grabbed one of the many soda cups and took off the lid before gulping down the entire drink in one swing. He let out a huge belch that made his whole body and even some of the car shake with its force and he almost looked sheepish for just a second before giving you an award-winning smile.

“HOW WAS THAT FOR THE FIRST ROUND? NOT BAD EH? TELL ME, DO YOUR OTHER DATES DO IT FASTER THAN THAT?” He boasted.

Truth be told, Spamton was one of the fastest eaters you'd ever seen, but if he was toying with you here, why not return the favour?

“Way faster. Try getting the next bag down in half that time and you'll be closer to them.” You replied smugly.

The smile fell right off of Spamton's face and he stared at you, then at the bag with shock and uncertainty. But quickly, a renewed determination made itself present on him and he grabbed the entire bag, fishing out its contents and balancing them on his belly. Three more burgers, two long sandwiches, two more boxes of wings, and another two orders of fries.

He gave you one last glance before taking a big breath and tearing through the food he had laid out for himself. You felt yourself becoming pale yet also aroused. The absolute ferocity with which Spamton was shoving fries into his mouth, followed by a huge bite of a sandwich and swallowed together with a cyber chicken wing was mesmerising to watch.

He really managed to get this bag down in half the time of the first. His suit now had a few stains and he was panting heavily but he actually passed your challenge.

“Wow...” was all you managed to murmur as you looked at the small gap slowly forming between the buttons of his suit and his heaving gut.

“THAT... WAS SO... GOOD...” Spamton breathed. You feared he would try to get through the other two bags just as fast and were just about to tell him he was doing just fine compared to other feedee dates you've had, but just as you opened your mouth to speak up, Spamton was already shoving food from the next bag into his mouth. His moans and loud chewing would've drowned out your voice even if you weren't too turned on to properly speak right now.

The remaining two bags were emptied by Spamton, who practically inhaled the food within. Once the last bite of a sandwich finally entered his mouth he grabbed another soda cup, popped the lid off and once again chugged it down. Though this time he stopped drinking halfway down the cup and leaned forward, holding his gurgling gut in one hand. He gave you a glare as if he was about to reprimand you for taking him here.

“Buttons... open... NOW.” was all he breathed out, before he resumed his drinking binge, though now at a slower pace than before.

You didn't need to be told that twice, you were more than happy to finally get to touch Spamton's glorious belly, especially now that it's gone damn near globular.

The suit jacket's buttons put up quite a fight to be opened though, the high quality material refusing to be stretched any further, lest it may snap. But at the third attempt, they finally opened up.

However just as you were about to get to the undershirt's buttons, Spamton leaned forward to grab the final cup containing a milkshake. While you were caught out of nowhere with a face full of belly you heard the faint ping of at least one button popping off of him. Damn it, this must've been the sexiest moment of your life.

Unfortunately, Spamton did not seem as amused, as he leaned back and glared at you, then at the large diamond that had formed on his gut where his white flesh was sticking out now. “NOW LOOK WHAT HAPPENED. I'M GONNA NEED TO GET MY FAVOURITE SHIRT REPLACED. FOR THAT SLUGGISHNESS YOU DON'T GET TO TOUCH ME ANYMORE.” He said.

He shoved you back towards your end of the car as you feebly stammered out protests: “Wha- But- This is- That's your fault for learning forward!”

“OH TALKING BACK NOW, EH? YOU THINK YOU'RE STILL WORTHY OF GETTING A HANDFUL OF ALL THIS?” Spamton shot back as he grabbed his own belly and jiggled it at you. He suppressed a pained moan at having all the food inside of him be jostled around and said: “YOU BETTER BE GIVING ME A REALLY GOOD APOLOGY BY THE TIME I FINISH THIS MILKSHAKE OR ELSE YOU'RE NEVER GONNA GET TO TOUCH MY LOVELY ROLLS”

And with that Spamton threw his head back and began gulping down the thick shake. You were at a bit of a loss for what to say until finally, you realised you'd need to stroke his ego a bit. Fine then.

You leaned forward just a bit and looked up at Spamton with the biggest, saddest puppy-eyes you could manage. And slowly you whined: “I'm really sorry Sir... I tried to be fast but I couldn't get to the buttons in time... I can't help it, you're just So Big and So Beautiful, that nothing can contain you for long... I promise I did my best to please you, Sir, so please forgive me...”

The longer you went on the redder Spamton got and the more slowly he was chugging the Milkshake. By the time he was done with the drink, he threw the cup to the side and just stared at you with wide eyes.

“FFFUCK...” he moaned out. “I DIDN'T.... I DIDn't think you'd go in that hard...”

So it had been a role-play thing. Well, good to know you didn't really upset Spamton. You decided it was time to push your luck again.

“So can I touch now?” You asked.

He almost moaned in response, “Yes... please...”

That was all you needed to hear. You just about shot forward and started massaging Spamton's belly carefully. Within a few minutes you managed to push some powerful burps out of him, shaking the car and rustling the empty burger wrappers strewn across the car's floor. The doughy Addison sighed contently and let out a few moans.

“DAMN YOU'RE -URP- GOOD AT THIS...”, Spamton moaned.

You chuckled. “I've got some practice.”

“RIGHT...” Spamton grinned lazily at you, joining your hands with his own at his sides. You got flushed again, staring up at him. “WHAT? MIGHT AS WELL JOIN IN AND GET YOU TO HIT ALL THE RIGHT SPOTS~”

As your hands intertwined with those of the salesman, your breathing slowly got heavier, until it just about matched his laboured breaths. It's a wonder it took you so long to get this aroused, with everything that had happened today. But you supposed there had been enough build-up.

And it seemed to have been enough for Spamton as well, since he took one of his hands off his globular gut to rest it on your cheek. His smile was still confident, but there was a light bashfulness to it as he spoke: “PLEASE... PLEASE LET ME FUCK YOU. I HAVEN'T HAD ANYONE IN BED SINCE I PASSED 250...”

Wow. Just asking would've been enough but the admittance that he's been pent up for over 100lbs? Fuck, that was some of the hottest stuff you've ever heard.

“Gladly,” you said, but then decided to throw in a little teasing as you patted his belly gently “But just keep in mind, you're not going to be as agile as before.”

Spamton seemed to consider this a challenge, as his hand on your face went to the back of your head and he pushed you closer for a kiss. His face was angled so he wouldn't poke a hole through your eyes with his nose and his other hand began wandering across your torso. He was clearly experienced in making out, doughy fingers exploring every inch of your body while listening for any signs of spots that might make you uncomfortable.

He must have had a lot of sex before he got this fat. He must have been so pent up...

You pulled away from the kiss, as your hands travelled across his body underneath his suit. “Tell me, my Big Shot,” you gently said, while undoing his belt. “Have you ever broken a bed while having sex before?”

Spamton shivered gently as he did his best to lift his huge ass off the car's bench.

“O-ONCE... OR TWICE...” he breathed out. Being so full and heavy, he only managed to raise himself a few inches up, and not for long, but this wasn't your first rodeo on a stuffed fatty wedged into a tiny car.

“Hm, I see. Well, I'm glad you've got experience with that at least~” you said gently as you pulled his pants down towards his hidden ankles. Spamton's hands meanwhile had managed to pull up your shirt and pull down your pants as well.

You leaned back for a moment to behold the doughy giant in front of you. He was so glorious, fat and flushed. Just the way you liked them.

His gut was blocking the view to his dick, so you gently lifted it up, well aware of the food still being digested in his distended stomach. There you found his fupa, swallowing a semi-erect penis. From the looks of it, Spamton hadn't just gotten himself a mod to install the sexual organ, he's also installed some mods to make it bigger. His half-chub was probably around 7 inches long and quite thick.

“My my, has someone been installing enlargement mods to compensate for being so unabashedly fat~?” You asked gently.

You couldn't see Spamton's face from where you were but his light shiver and twitching of his dick told you he enjoyed the teasing. “GOTTA... GOTTA BE BIG... THE BIGGEST...” the fat Addison moaned.

As Spamton's own hands moved to hold onto his belly, you wrapped both hands around his penis and began to rub up and down the member. Simultaneously you gently kissed first the area around it, and then eventually the head of his cock. Spamton moaned softly in approval.

You let your lips tease his dick for a little while, but Spamton was clearly more pent up than you had assumed. He tried to thrust his hips towards you, but only managed to twitch in place ever so slightly, jiggling for a few seconds afterwards.

“C-COME ON.... PLEASE.... I NEED.... INSIDE...” He moaned.

Fine, fine. You couldn't keep teasing him forever. So, at last, you put your lips around his cock.

Spamton moaned out in what genuinely sounded like relief, as you took in more and more of him. It was quite a task with a boner nearly as thick as a CyBear can, but you could manage.

Just the curiosity of whether you could do it made you determined to try and reach the base of Spamton's dick. You went further and further, letting your face sink into the fat around it and receiving a shuddering moan in return. However you stopped being able to go any further about an inch or two before reaching the base.

It was heavenly. A formerly fit Addison who was getting so fat that his dick was getting completely swallowed, even with enlargement mods. Oh, you could cum on the spot already.

Fondling his love-handles with your hands, you bobbed up and down Spamton's dick. The Salesman moaned more and more. And he must have been getting lost in the feeling, because he let his belly drop onto your head.

Your head was weighed down so much you were stuck. His hands fell to his sides as you felt him sink further into the car's seat. Again he tried to thrust his hips towards you but didn't really make it, falling back further than he had tried to shoot forward.

After a few minutes, you heard his breathing get heavier and he moaned out: “FUCK FUCK FUCK I'M GONNA CUM!” Accompanied by his loudest moan so far, he shot his load into your mouth. He really Did have a Lot pent up because your mouth was quickly filling faster than you could swallow.

Wriggling your shoulders a little and lifting his belly off of yourself, you sat back up again and wiped your mouth. Meanwhile, Spamton was still shooting cum. Shame he was a white Addison though. The liquid was hardly visible on his skin.

He opened his eyes and gave you another pleading look. Despite only knowing the salesman for a day, you were well aware of what this look meant. He wanted more, much more.

And you would be more than happy to oblige, since you certainly weren't satisfied with just a blowjob either. You hadn't even gotten to get yourself off yet, after all!

Your wordless understanding with one another made Spamton reach out his hands and wriggle his hips in a desperate attempt to properly sit up. You got the hint, and grabbed his hands to pull him forward a little.

And despite the impossible odds of his heavy, doughy body the two of you managed to pull him up just enough for him to manage to hoist himself up further to the point where he was on his knees, looking down at you from where his head grazed the car's ceiling.

There was a bit of creaking accompanying his movements, but neither of you paid it any mind.

Despite panting so heavily the car's windows were already fogging up and sweating out a small puddle (metaphorically (maybe)), he clearly wanted to keep up some semblance of his past hookups. The salesman leaned one arm against the backrest of the seat and gave you a smile that was slipping closer to award-losing rather than award-winning

“SO YOU'VE (hah) HAD A TASTE OF THE (whew) OF THE BIG SHOT... BUT ARE YOU READY.... FOR A FREE RIDE?” he barely managed to wheeze out.

That was such a stupidly corny pick-up line. Why the hell did it get you so aroused?

You nodded at Spamton. “Give me all you got, you Big Shot~” you said.

And he didn't need to be told twice. As soon as you turned around and opened your legs for him, he was already desperate for full-body contact.

He just about shot forward, grabbing your hips and seemingly forgetting how big and full he was as he instinctively tried to thrust his dick into you. All you felt was his belly being pressed up against your entrance, and a bit too quickly at that. Quickly his hands left your body.

“AH SHIT... FUCK” Spamton hissed, clutching his stuffed gut. He let out a couple of burps and pained moans.

You turned around and asked, “You okay? We could stop and wait for you to digest-”

“NO, NO, IT'S FINE. WE ARE NOT STOPPING NOW.” Spamton interrupted you, “JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY... BUT DON'T WORRY... THAT'S NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE.”

The pain in his face was slowly being replaced by determination as he spoke. With a more gentle grip, he lifted his belly and laid it down on your back, angling his dick up to your hole slowly.

“You can take it more slowly, really. That's more time to enjoy the ride~” You reminded Spamton.

Spamton mumbled out a little “YEAH...” in response and gently inserted his cock. Despite the mishap earlier, the fat Addison was still obviously well experienced. He was slow and gentle on the first insertion and periodically gave you time to get used to the size of his over-modded penis.

Slowly but surely he built up a rhythm to thrust to. And now that he was less pent up, you actually both got the time to enjoy yourselves. That feeling when his fupa was pressed against your entrance and he couldn't go any deeper was glorious to you, and you found yourself clenching around his dick during those moments to enjoy it for as long as possible. Eventually he got the hint and went out slower than he'd go back in. The sensation of his belly's weight on your back was just the cherry on top.

You shuddered as an orgasm finally finally FINALLY ran through you, drenching the seat beneath you. Spamton followed suit not long after, thrusting as quickly as he could in his overfed state before he filled up your insides.

The car creaked ominously beneath you both.

You sighed wistfully but you weren't quite satisfied yet. You've been through too much today for that to be enough. You wanted to ride him too.

Gently you wiggled yourself off of Spamton's dick and turned to look at him. He had definitely sweat a stain into his spot on the seat by now, and he sat a bit uneasily. You softly pushed against his chest and he let himself fall back into the cushion. The action was accompanied by a very loud creak from the car that you both continued to ignore.

“Tired? Want me to take over now? I can have 'A ride on the Big Shot' and you can relax. How's that sound?” You asked sweetly.

You were honestly expecting Spamton to say he was done now, but he nodded furiously at you instead.

“OH (hah) PLEASE (hah) OH PLEASE.... MORE...” he wheezed. Still eager to recapture those hookups from his trim days, it seemed. Well that was just fine with you.

You climbed onto what little of Spamton's lap you could claim for yourself and began stroking his belly lovingly. By now he might have digested enough to be more comfortably stuffed than painfully stuffed. He mewled sweetly under your touch in between panting.

After a few rubs and shakes of his lovely gut, you lifted it up and got your legs in between his folds as best as you could. You had managed to position yourself so that his tip was teasing your entrance again, and you should have had just enough wiggle room to thrust on him.

“I like this (hah) way more honestly. I like getting to look at your cute flustered chubby face~” you said, and slowly trailed off into moaning as you lowered yourself onto his dick.

Spamton's red hot face was an absolute joy to watch as you went up and down on him. By now, you were used to his ridiculous width so you could freely move your hips and grope plenty of his belly as you did.

And he absolutely loved it. Now that he wasn't occupied with thrusting, he was melting like putty and moaning underneath you. He gasped and groaned oh so sweetly. It seemed like the groping made him even more aroused, as he came inside you faster this time, throwing his head back into the cushion and almost yelling.

You weren't quite done yet yourself though. You sped up your bouncing on his cock, chasing your own second orgasm for the night. The car's creaking was starting to get annoying. And maybe louder. But you were so close! You didn't want to quit here. You were too lost in the sensation. It was too wonderful. He was so full... And you were so full... So deliciously filled up to the brim...

Finally, your second orgasm of the day ran through you. But just as you were howling in release, there was one last loud creak beneath you, followed by a much louder THUD! You suddenly fell down, faceplanting into Spamton's gut.

When you had lifted your head and looked at him again, post nut clarity hit both of you like a Cungadero Wild 95. His eyes were as wide as saucers and while you sat up with ease to look around, he was struggling against his gut. But soon enough he managed to pull himself up by the backrest of the seat and was scrambling to get up and out of the car.

You realised that you should've spoken up when you saw his giant dumptruck ass squeezing through the door. Naked. Pants at his ankles. Oh dear...

“OH NO NO NO NO, OH FUCK OH SHIT OH SWEET MOTHERBOARD...” Spamton began mumbling. He seemed to be genuinely panicking. Better get out there and have a look at the damage. But first, you pulled your clothes back on. No need to flash anyone like Spamton is doing right now.

Quickly, you exited through the door that had been opened by Spamton and walked up beside him to look at the car. You couldn't help but let out an impressed whistle. It was downright comical. It almost looked straight out of a cartoon. Like the author didn't know what a car breaking down would look like and didn't feel like looking it up.

The wheels had sprung off their hinges and fallen to the floor. One of them had even rolled halfway across the parking lot as if it was trying to escape. The frontal hood had popped open, revealing the car's innards. Those seemed to be well intact but the mechanisms on the bottom were most likely damaged from hitting the floor all of a sudden.

Next to you, Spamton was still mumbling curses to himself, along with a few complaints about calling for a tow truck.

“THIS IS GOING TO BE SO EMBARSSING TO EXPLAIN DAMN IT WHAT DO I DO...?” Spamton muttered. Oh right, speaking of embarrassing...

You decided to just say it bluntly: “Uhm.... is now a bad time to mention your pants are still down?”

Another frozen shock, a hand shooting down to his exposed thigh. And now Spamton was outright screaming: “WHAT?! SHIT FUCK FUCK DAMN IT!”

You couldn't help but giggle as he fruitlessly flailed in place, trying to reach his pair of trousers. Of course, that gut and those thunder thighs weren't going to make that possible. “Well at least you're covering up the modded beast either way.” You said.

His face turned as red as his stained suit jacket. “NOT FUNNY! HELP ME PULL THEM UP NOW!” He yelled.

You obliged, of course. You weren't cruel. After picking up the extra elastic waistband and pulling it up over his thighs and underbelly, you handed Spamton the waistband and he hastily pulled it over his belly button. That's already gotten him back to being halfway decent for the public!

He tried to button his undershirt again as well but paused when he reached his chest. He turned to glare at you again, though it didn't feel like he was actually mad at you. Just at the situation as a whole. He sighed heavily.

“COULD YOU... PLEASE BUtton this for me...? I can't reach past my chest...” He asked as silently as he could.

The shame on his face was pretty unwarranted in your opinion. You HAD expressed plenty of times today how much you enjoyed his size. Still, you nodded and started buttoning his undershirt.

Poor guy. All his confidence came crashing down just like the Cungadero you had been fucking in. The concept of being seen enjoying his fat this much in public must have spooked him quite thoroughly. You just silently hoped this wouldn't make him drop any of his appreciation for that beautiful body.

You stopped buttoning Spamton's undershirt when you noticed the gap still left in the middle of his gut. Oh, right... The missing button. One glance at Spamton told you he was also well aware of it, and his face didn't get any less red.

“GREAT...” he mumbled, “JUST PERFECT... I'LL UH... I'LL JUST SAY IT'S A WARDROBE MALFUNCTION OR SOMETHING... OR MAYBE WE GOT IN A CAR CRASH...” He glanced at you and seemed like he was contemplating ripping your clothes to shreds. You took a step back just in case.

“Look, there's a good chance they won't even ask, and even then we don't owe anyone any explanations.” You offered.

Spamton mulled over your initial statement in his mind for a few seconds. Eventually he nodded in agreement. “GOOD ENOUGH I GUESS...” he said, beginning to slowly lumber towards the fast food restaurant.

You followed him silently, but were stopped when he turned around and gave you a bashful smile.

“BUT UH... EVEN... Even if this ended up well... crashing down... I... I really liked doing this...” Spamton said, looking away and chuckling at himself, “I haven't felt... appreciated like this in quite a while... Maybe we could uh... do this again?” Working up the courage to look at you, Spamton gave you a real smile, no showboaty bravado attached.

You couldn't help but get flustered, but this time in a giddy and joyful way instead of the raw horniness that had dominated your mind for the majority of the day.

Grinning at Spamton, you nodded enthusiastically. “I would love that!” you said, “Do you have uh... a private cell or something? I wouldn't want to intrude on your business calls.”

Spamton guffawed “I WOULDN'T MIND AT ALL IF YOU DID. BUT STILL, YOU CAN HAVE A DIRECT LINE.” He dug around in an inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a business card and a pen. Scratching out the given Big Shot Autos phone number and writing a different one in its place, he handed the altered card to you with a playful wink. “YOU CAN CALL ME WHENEVER YOU WANT, SWEETHEART. I PROMISE I'LL MAKE TIME FOR YOU NO MATTER WHAT”

And with that he gave you one last smile before turning and entering the store to call for a pick-up back into the city. You followed him into the building, already looking forward to being stuck with Spamton in a car for the last time today, but definitely not the last time of your life.

[shardthefuckingwhajje]

HOLY [Cungadero]!!

W3 AT [shard the FUCKING whajje??] HAVE REC1V3D 100 [Kromer]!!!!1!1!1

TH4NKZ 4 YOUR [Donation To Adults In Local Ikea]!!!1!!1!!1!!1!1!1!

[poisonwithkaffeflavour]

SPAMTOBER 31- Happy spamt-oween and Deltarune Annyversary!

[nomochido]

That's the kind of stuff i'd like to get 🌈🤭✨

#adispam #deltarune #deltarunefanart #spamtonfanart #blueaddison #blueaddisonfanart #spamton #tobyfox #delaruneaddisons #nomo #adibujar #dibujodigital #gay

[bigs-bigshot]

Finally finished the halloween pics. Hallow is forever in my heart. Made them fatter since it has been a year since these guys were first introduced.

Yes, they're all based on THOSE monsters.

[haha--lorge]

Just a minor glitch in the system don't worry about it

[d0llpett]

burpy pillow (fart alt below)

[midnight--umbreon]

Best spamton song

[squishybellies]

Some spamtum from me, excited for chapters 3 & 4 next year!

[whomstwashere]

MY FIRST PIXEL ART TIME TO MAKE SPAMTON

[haha--exposition]

A day with the big Big Shot part 1

Cyber City, 1996

Yup, this was it. Your old pile of rusted garbage that you called a car had officially died for good. You sighed in frustration as you leaned away from the hood of your car.

A few close friends had warned you before that with your preference for dating chubbier people, and how frequently you went on dates with the mutual goal of stuffing them silly, it would only be a matter of time until your car would give out completely under the constant weight. You had hoped you'd have at least a little bit more time before the meltdown would have happened, having learned some basic mechanic skills to keep the motor running and all.

But here you were, in your garage with your toolkit and a motor that has all but blown up from years of heavy lifting. Whatever, think positive; at least not having to go to a repair shop as often had allowed you to save tons of money that you could use to fund a newer car now. Something nice and big and sturdy for your next date...

Just as you thought about this potential new car, the radio next to you announced a quick ad break and a trumpet-heavy jingle began playing before the announcer began speaking.

“Come on down to Big Shot Autos for our Deal Of A Lifetime Sales event! New cars, used cars, big and small and everything in between. Save up to 40% throughout the season of summer!” After the announcement came the end of the Big Shot Autos ad jingle and the address of the location they'd be having the sale at.

The timing of this ad was almost scarily on point. For a second you imagined a distant future where ads would be laser focused on whatever you were thinking about at any moment in time. But regardless of the dystopia in your mind, you were in desperate need of a new car and this was the perfect opportunity to get one at an affordable price.

As you closed the hood of your old heap of trash and moved to leave the garage and go wash up you pondered the reason for this sudden sale. There had been rumours going around in your suburbs about the owner of Big Shot Autos. His name was Spamton if you remembered correctly, as far as you knew he was an Addison who has skyrocketed in success over the past year. Rumour had it that he was on the cusp of making a huge brand deal with the Queen herself. If this was true, he'd definitely be opening more stores under the Big Shot Autos name. Perhaps this sale was a sort of last hurrah in his original location before he would move on to franchising the stores? Or maybe it was an effort to prove he could rake in big sales to the Queen? She was odd enough that you could imagine her testing any potential sales partner like that.

While you dried off after your shower, got dressed and left your house to head for the nearest bus station, your thoughts drifted off to this Spamton again and again. Well, it wasn't like it was weird to think of him when thinking of Big Shot Autos, his face was plastered onto every poster and TV-ad for the store. Though, you thought back to something that stood out to you about the TV-ads in particular.

In his earliest ads he was fairly attractive, though not by your standards. He had that trademark Addison body, slim but with plenty of lean muscles. His suit had outlined the broad chest and shoulders that all Addisons naturally had, and he would be gesturing towards whatever he was advertising with strong, well-defined hands.

But after a few months you had noticed a few changes with newer ads. The way his jaw had softened by the tiniest bit, the way his suit looked to be just a little bit more snug. To the average person it was hardly noticeable but your trained eyes had spotted the changes rather quickly. After a few more weeks Big Shot Autos had shifted to using exclusively older footage for ads.

A few people in the fat admiration forums you frequented had pointed out and speculated about these changes too, but you found it rather tasteless to speculate about a public figure in such a way. The topic had still gotten to you though: you had begun looking for more and more photos by Addisons on the forums. There was just something so beautiful about the way their naturally slim bodies began to fill out more and more... To think the same thing could have happened with someone reaching celebrity status like Spamton...

No no definitely not. You were just being inappropriately horny. He'd gained some weight and they started using older footage, just to buy enough time for him to lose it in private. You were probably gonna see him at the car dealership, and then you'd see your average slim-strong Addison, and get disappointed over absolutely nothing.

Content with your reasoning that you were going to get a new car today to replace the old heap of trash and nothing more, you stepped through the large double door leading into Big Shot Autos.

You looked around the place in awe as you walked up to the main counter. Everything was huge, though maybe you should have expected that from the name. From the ridiculously high glass ceiling to the huge yet elegant staircase behind the counter leading into what you assumed to be the dealers' offices, it all screamed at you that this was far from a small shop. All the model cars around you were huge too. It all felt so.... opulent.

Big Shot indeed...

Maybe Spamton had already sealed the deal with Queen and this was the way he was celebrating? This place was closed for renovation a while ago, you recall. Why the hell were you thinking so much about this random Addison you didn't even know?

You got your thoughts straight just in time as a Plugboy at the counter turned in his chair towards you and greeted you with a chirpy “Hello and welcome to Big Shot Autos! Here for a new ride around town?” The catchphrase sounded even cuter coming from of a stubby little creature like that.

“Yes I'm looking for a new car while this 'Deal Of A Lifetime' sale is going on.”

You heard a slow, rhythmic thumping from the floor above you but chose to ignore it to maintain eye contact with the Plugboy.

“Ah yes, a smart choice! I'm sure we have just what you need!” The words were clearly practised. “Let me call one of our Salesmen real quick and they can show you our quality rides!”

“AH DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, OUTLEN. I CAN TAKE OVER THIS ONE.”

You looked up at the sudden booming voice from the staircase and felt your mouth dry up. Standing there, leaning up against the staircase's sturdy railing was Spamton G. Spamton himself. And he was MASSIVE.

He wore red suit pants which hugged a pair of thighs each easily the width of your own two legs. You had to do your absolute hardest not to imagine what his butt must look like in those. His pants were holding onto the lower half of his belly, an absolutely enormous ball of fat, hiding even his crotch. One of his fat hands rested on the rim of a belt, which dug into his belly hard enough to divide it in two. The top half of said belly was stuffed inside a light yellow button up underneath a red suit jacket, with a matching bright yellow tie. Despite the jacket's best efforts, a sizeable sliver of the yellow undershirt could still be seen where the belt buckle sat. The jacket had padded shoulders, though they did very little to make him look less soft. If anything they highlighted his rotundess with the contrast they created. His black hair (wait... since when did Addisons have hair?) was slicked back, looking like he wasn't even trying to hide the ring of fat around his face, which produced an impressive double chin (though with the way he was looking down towards you it looked more like a triple chin) and adorable chubby cheeks. Due to his salesman smile, his cheeks were pushed up a little, forcing his already squinted eyes even more closed.

He slowly began lumbering down the staircase with an observably well practised waddle, his entire body shook and jiggled with every step.

“I JUST FINISHED MY LUNCH BREAK. I'LL GLADLY TAKE THIS CUSTOMER!” Spamton said. Wow that voice was loud.

The Plugboy in front of you seemed almost like he was just as flustered as you were as he stammered: “R-really? Are you sure boss? W-we can have someone else take over, y-you don't have to trouble yourself...”

Spamton laughed in response. It was a powerful, boasting laugh, that made his body shake even more than when he had walked. The way he threw his head back and jutted his belly out felt almost as if he was trying to show that jiggle off.

“EAHAHAHA!! COME ON NOW, OUTLEN. DO YOU THINK I BECAME SUCH A SUCCESSFULL SALESMAN BY RUNNING FROM MY CUSTOMERS?”

Poor little Outlen stuttered: “N-no sir of course not! But... well, it won't really be your job any more soon so I thought maybe...”

“AW COME ON, CAN'T I ENJOY MY LAST ONE ON ONE SALES?” Spamton's grin was playful, and yet you felt sorry for the poor Plugboy who was sweating bullets at this point. It seemed like Spamton enjoyed teasing his co-workers and he was either unaware or didn't care that this was hardly appropriate behaviour for the CEO of a company. If you had to guess, probably the latter, considering how young he was. Taking a good look at him, you guessed he couldn't be much older than 22 at best.

Someone this young getting this successful? This fast? That was fishy to say the least. But you guessed it wasn't your place to judge.

You caught yourself before getting too mentally off track and tuned back into the conversation between Spamton and poor sweaty Outlen. They seemed to be just about done too, as Outlen was handing Spamton a clipboard.

“O-OK, here are the documents and forms for this customer... Uh.. Good luck...?”

Spamton chuckled to himself. “OH PLEASE, YOU KNOW I DON'T NEED ANY LUCK AROUND HERE.” He started waddling towards you around the desk as the Plugboy mumbled an apology.

“NOW. YOU NEED A RIDE AROUND TOWN? WE GOT A RIDE AROUND TOWN FOR YA! FOR FORMALITY'S SAKE, THE NAME'S SPAMTON G. SPAMTON. WHAT'S YOURS?” he extended out his hand and you shook it as you told him your full name. It took all your strength to maintain eye contact and not stare at Spamton's arm as you could feel it wobble from the strong handshake.

After he let go, he started writing down your name on the first sheet of the clipboard, slowly spelling the name out and asking you if that was the right way to spell it. You simply nodded and hummed in affirmation, as you struggled to ignore the way he had leaned back and used his gut to rest the clipboard on it to write.

In that moment you knew, you were either going to cum or die in this shop within the next hour. And you weren't sure which one would be less humiliating.

“WELL THEN, FOLLOW ME BUDDY! I CAN HOOK YOU UP WITH A TRUCK YOU'LL JUST LOVE!” Spamton said.

That was the worst line you've ever heard. The half-hearted rhyme really threw you for a loop, but before you could question it too hard, Spamton had already turned around and you were immediately staring at a dumptruck ass that could put the biggest porn stars to shame. How on earth was all THAT junk in the trunk getting contained by his pan-STOP! STOP! YOU'RE HERE TO BUY A DAMN CAR, STOP OOGLING HIM RIGHT NOW!

Your eyes shot up as your face got hot and you quickly stepped forth in such a way that you would be next to Spamton instead of behind him while you walked around the hall. You had already filled him in on the kind of car you were looking for, something large, sturdy and with lots of endurance.

Of course you DIDN'T tell him that it was for the sake of lugging around cute fatties like him. The mere thought of potentially letting that slip in front of him had made you feel like melting into the floor. You were probably sweating even more than the Plugboy at the desk had.

Briefly, you wondered if Spamton had noticed yet. If he had, at least he wasn't saying anything. Damn it, he was way better at staying professional than you, even if he said some of the dumbest 'slogans' you'd ever heard.

The rotound Addison stopped in front of a large light green car, gesturing for you to stay put where you were. You watched as he slapped the roof of the car, the motion sending a ripple through his body that you had to do everything in your power to ignore.

“THIS BABY RIGHT HERE IS THE CUNGADERO WILD '95! A BEAUTIFUL ALL-TERRAIN POWERHOUSE WITH ALL THE FEATURES YOU'VE COME TO KNOW AND LOVE FROM BIG SHOT AUTOS!”

Spamton rambled on about the car's horse power and motor specs and other things you really should've been listening to if you planned on making an informed purchase. However, he was articulating with his hands just as much as his words and it was getting to you fast. Those pudgy fingers were too cute to ignore. Not to mention the little dents of fat around his knuckles. And as he swung his hands around, his arms were always lagging just a second behind, swinging back and forth with their own mass as if they weren't part of the Addison's body anymore. The fact that you could even see his arms jiggle through the sleeves of his suit was enough to drive you mad.

Oh sweet motherboard, you should've come here at a different time. How in the holy circuits were you ever supposed to focus on any details about the cars if the guy selling them to you was so-

”BUT WAIT! THAT'S NOT ALL!” Oh. That might do it. His yelling. “ALONG WITH EVERYTHING ELSE, THIS PUPPY HAS OUR LATEST SAFETY TECH! I'M TALKIN' IMPROVED AIR BAGS! I'M TALKIN' PARKING ASSISTANT! I'M TALKIN' MECHANISMS NO ONE IN CYBER CITY EVEN KNEW THEY NEEDED TO MAKE SURE YOU AND YOUR CUNGADERO STAY AS SAFE AS A GEM IN A MUSEUM! NOW DOESN'T THAT JUST SOUND LIKE THE SWEETEST DEAL IN TOWN OR WHAT?” Weak comparison aside, you hummed in thought. You couldn't help but wonder about the motor and its power. That must've been your last sliver of a clear mind desperately clinging to your brain.

You walk around the car, slowly examining it so you could think a bit more clearly, and stare at anything other than Spamton, who was giving you an expectant grin that was once again pushing his cheeks up into his eyes. Finally, you stop in front of the hood, on the opposite side of where Spamton was standing.

“So...” You said slowly, silently thanking the grid that your voice wasn't as shaky as you had expected: “What's this motor like in terms of customizability? I try to fix any problems on my own as best I can, you know?”

That sane sliver of your mind anxiously questioned if that was the right thing to say to a car salesman, but against your fears Spamton's eyes lit up in exhilaration as he began to speak.

“AH OF COURSE! YOU'RE ON THAT GRIND, I CAN ALWAYS APPRECIATE SOMEONE WHO'S GOT THE HUSTLE! WELL LEMME TELL YA, GETTING YOUR OWN TWO HANDS ON THIS BABY IS AS EASY AS ONE-TWO-THREE, YOU CAN JUST-”

He leaned forward against the hood, getting excited about the topic and barely even gesturing with his hands this time. It seemed that he got wound up enough to forget about his salesman persona for a second, as he simply rambled on and on about cars that he personally worked on and customised in his earliest days with Big Shot Autos.

You tried to listen to him, you really did. It honestly sounded fascinating, not to mention his endearing giddiness as he spoke. But the second he had leaned forward, his belly had begun resting on the car's hood, and your eyes became glued to it despite your best efforts. The buttons of his suit jacket were beginning to strain with holding it all in. Against your own wishes you imagined them flying off, followed by his undershirt's buttons. Addisons were always so angular, and seeing how much this one had rounded out, not to mention how close you were to him now... If you were to reach your hand out you could... Fucking circuits, this was impossible. It was gonna be straight up impossible to focus for more than a few seconds at a time as long as Spamton would be presenting the cars to you.

Finally tearing your eyes off of Spamton's gut, you look up to see that thankfully he's not even looking at you anymore, pointing at one of the models further in the back.

“THIS ONE TIME I PUT A 150 MOTOR INTO A 90 CAR JUST LIKE THAT ONE! LEMME TELL YA, THAT PUPPY COULD RUN LIKE NO ONE'S BUSINESS, EAHAHAHAHEAH!” He concluded his story that you should've been listening to instead of succumbing to your horniness

Your timing must've truly been on point, as just in that moment, Spamton seemed to finally become aware that he was way off-topic. His eyes opened wide (well, as wide as they could) and he leaned back, rubbing the back of his head as his grin turned sheepish.

“OH DEAR, THAT WAS A BIT MUCH, WASN'T IT? APOLOGIES.” He said.

“Oh no, it's fine! It sounded really interesting! I'll see if I can try a few of those tricks on my own once I've got my new car!”, you stammer. Oh Motherboard, you hoped that was convincing.

An unbearably long second of silence passed in which you could've sworn that Spamton eyed you suspiciously, but his regular grin was back before you even processed it and he said, “THAT'S A RELIEF! ANYWAYS, AS I WAS SAYING, THIS ONE HAS IT ALL!! DO YOU WANNA TAKE A LITTLE TEST-RIDE AROUND TOWN TO SEE FOR YOURSELF?”

“Yes please!”

...

Alright, no more oogling. No more staring. Not even a second of checking on him. You were driving now, and if you got sidetracked by Spamton's fat now, you could seriously endanger yourself and others.

You had already been in anti-horny mode as Spamton had waddled off to get the keys to the car you were in now, staring at the other test-models in the lot and the road ahead and the green grid in the sky and catching yourself just in time before your eyes could land on his ass again. That thing was really quite the eye-catcher. Not that it mattered now! He was gonna have said ass planted firmly on the seat of this car, away from your eyes. AND! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STOP THINKING ABOUT HIS AMPLE FAT! STOP! STOP! STOP!

Yeesh, it was like you had to put your own mind on a leash.

Luckily you could successfully distract yourself from Spamton as you observed the car's interface and their functions. Your previous old hunk of garbage might as well had been from the Stone Age, especially when compared to this one. Spamton had mentioned this being one of the newest models on the market but you were unsure of how new it really was. Considering you could still afford it you had to assume it would be at least a little dated. Then again he had talked about “the newest developments in safety measures” or something like that.

You tried to remember the specific wording as you adjusted the mirrors appropriately to see the road from each one. Regardless of your own lack of proper knowledge, since you weren't listening to a word the salesman had said earlier, everything seemed to be in order with this car. Just as you had run out of things to distract yourself with, Spamton finally opened the door to the passenger seat.

“WHEW, SORRY THAT TOOK A WHILE. HAD TO GET ALL THE PAPERS READY FOR THIS MODEL.” He wasn't even getting into the car yet. Instead he leaned forward to push the seat back as far as it would go. It went back impressively far actually, had to be about two and a half feet if you had to guess from where you were sitting.

“IMPRESSED? YOU SAID YOU NEEDED SOMETHING SPACIOUS AND TRUST ME, WE MIGHT AS WELL CALL THIS ONE THE CUNGADERO WILD & SPACIOUS '95! YOU COULD PROBABLY FIT TWO PEOPLE IN THIS PASSENGER SEAT!” Spamton boasted, “...UH, NOT THAT YOU SHOULD THOUGH, BIG SHOT AUTOS TAKES NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANY INCIDENTS THAT WOULD OCCUR FROM SUCH ACTIONS.”

“Of course. Wasn't going to anyways...” you murmured as you watched Spamton sit down in the passenger seat.

Oh motherboard. Oh, motherboard... His belly was pressing against the glove box. ...What if his gut alone set off the air bags? The sides of his body leaked over the seat and almost touched yours. Before you could stop yourself you thought of 'accidentally' caressing one of his rolls of fat while going for the gear shift.

You watched him struggle with the seat belt for at least a minute before you finally shook off your flushed thoughts and offered to help him. He stuttered out a 'thank you' as you manoeuvred the belt into just the right angle on his body to be squeezed into its buckle. It hadn't occurred to you until then that due to being used to this situation you had mindlessly grabbed one of his moobs to get it out of the way.

Quickly, you let go and began apologizing profusely for what was undoubtedly an unforgivable breach of privacy and dignity: “OH MY CIRCUITS I'M SO SORRY FOR TOUCHING YOU THERE, FUCK I'M SORRY, THAT'S WAY TOO CLOSE I'M SO SORRY, IT WAS JUST IN THE WAY AND I JUST- I'M SORRY I'M SO SO SORRY FUCK SORRY SHIT FUCK-”

”HEY HEY SLOW YOUR ROLL, IT'S FINE.”

In that moment you considered yourself lucky that Spamton was always practically yelling, otherwise you might've kept rambling apologies for hours. His eyes were fairly wide open and his face was getting a bit red but other than that, he seemed mostly calm

“YA COULD'VE GIVEN ME A HEADS UP THOUGH.” he said with a light chuckle.

“R-right, of course. Again, I'm so sorry!” you replied. His humorous tone did real wonders to calm you down. If he could laugh it off then so could you.

“DON'T SWEAT IT TOO MUCH, KID. JUST GET THIS BABY GOING AND I CAN SHOW YOU SOME OF THE BEST DETAILS ABOUT THE CUNGADERO WILD '95 THAT ONLY REAL EXPERTS LIKE YOU COULD APPRECIATE” Spamton seemed to have caught himself very quickly. You wished you could do the same as the steam was still coming out of your head.

You wondered whether that last bit of what he said was a catchphrase or slogan of some sort or a genuine compliment as you set the car into 'reverse' (taking care NOT to touch Spamton) and drove onto the road.

In a much less panic-inducing turn of events, Spamton was right about the car's safety measures. You had no idea what half of them even were, but every beep and peep helped you focus on the road ahead and see oncoming traffic or obstacles in time. Now there's a catchphrase for Big Shot Autos. 'Every beep and peep an assistance'. Actually that sounded kinda lame. No wonder Spamton only spouted out bad catchphrases, this was harder than you thought...

As you took a left turn, Spamton started talking again, seemingly having fully recovered from the incident earlier. “SO AS YOU CAN SEE THIS BABY RUNS SMOOTH AS BUTTER! NOT ONLY THAT BUT THE FUEL EFFICIENCY IS DOWNRIGHT CRIMINAL. WE'VE BEEN ON DOZENS AND DOZENS OF TEST DRIVES ALREADY AND ONLY HAD TO REFILL THE GAS ONCE IN THE PAST 5 MONTHS! THIS IS A CITY MODEL THROUGH AND THROUGH, ALLOWING YOU TO NAVIGATE THE STREETS OF CYBER CITY WITH EASE AND GRACE!”

“This really is a good one.” You admit as you drive back into the test-models parking lot.

Parking the Cungadero Wild '95 in its original spot and getting out, you keep an eye on Spamton just in case. Usually, when you would be driving someone cute and plump like him around, they'd need help with getting out of the car. But they'd also usually be too stuffed to properly move around so you didn't really know how Spamton would do here, and you'd rather die than breach his privacy again without at least asking first.

Luckily, he made it out on his own, only huffing slightly from the effort. In the corner of your eye you could see him readjust his suit, especially the pants. Before he stomped over to you, looking rather confident in himself.

That grin almost boardered on smugness as he spoke: “WELL THAT'S THE CUNGADERO WILD '95! A REAL BEAUTY, ISN'T SHE? AND WE COULD SEAL THE DEAL RIGHT NOW AND THEN SHE'D BE ALL YOURS!”

You found yourself chuckling a bit at that. In your experience, the first thing any salesman tries to sell you is the first thing they want to get rid of. You earnestly thought that taking another look at a different car would be a wise decision... Under normal circumstances.

But doing so with Spamton in the passenger seat? That was.... unwise, to say the least. And yet... you wanted to keep going. You figured that you'd already embarrassed yourself enough with the moob grab earlier, how much worse would it be if you risked another accidental touch here or there? Worst case scenario, you get kicked out of the shop. And there's other car dealerships out there.

“Actually, I'd like to take a look at another car. Do you have something else that fits what I requested?” you asked.

Spamton was taken aback. You wouldn't have guessed this would be the first time someone didn't take his deal immediately, but from the way he stared at you with wide eyes it might as well have been. He caught himself quickly though and his smile returned, although it seemed ever so slightly more strained.

“OF COURSE! WE HAVE TONS OF LARGE RIDES, NOT JUST THE CUNGADERO WILD '95! COME ALONG, I THINK I ALREADY KNOW WHICH ONE COULD INTEREST YOU.”