It's like snapping back into existence. My mind awakens from the haze of lathargy, my eyes adjusting to the reality of my situation. I'm on my couch, slouched back, breathing heavy. In front of me, on my coffee table, piles of fast food wrappers are strewn about haphazardly. I count five separate food joints. My eyes focus more to my immediate front, and I'm stunned to see my stomach bulging out, a ball of stretched skin and fat. If my belly button wasn't so deep and obvious, I would've thought I was gazing out atop a fleshy hill. My stretchmarks are more vibrant, shiny, straining. Although my purple comfy shorts are extra large and super stretchy, I can feel them digging in all around me. Uuuugh... I'm so stuffed. Did I eat all that food? I reach my hands to the sides of my stomach and give it a little shake. Oof, rock hard, only a hint of a jiggle where my love handles hide my hips. Further below, I can feel my fupa bounce back. Fuck, I'm so wet down there. So I guess I really did eat myself into a stupor. I lick my lips, feeling some residual food still residing in the crevices. But wait, it tastes odd. Not food. More like... cum? Oh shit... now I remember. I'll admit, I'm a slut for two things: good dick and good food. The bigger, the better, in both scenarios. So how can I resist a man when he guarantees to fill me up? That's like, solid double entendre right there. He tells me to get comfy on the couch, he'll go out and pick us up some food. Sweet, so I put on my aforementioned super comfy purple shorts, forego the bra and let my girls fly free, and park my fat ass on the couch for my knight in greast brown bags to return. Well fuck me, he returned with two armfuls of the finest fast food a girl with type 2 diabetes could ask for. Golden arches, a saucy bell, a southern gentleman, the works. He went through all the different options I could choose from first. I asked what he'd be eating, joking that I'd leave nothing for him. I shit you not, he says he's not hungry. A little lightbulb goes off in my fat head. Oh... fuck... It's not long before he's feeding me fry by fry, chicken nugget after chicken nugget. Anything he puts near my mouth suddenly disappears right down into my hungry gut. I only take a break to drink from the many sodas and shakes he has available for me. Oh yeah, and breathe, but it helps that I just inhale everything he gives to me. The first fast food chain's dinner is demolished in no time, and my belly unleashes a belch in satisfaction and to say that it's made some room, give me more food, you know how bellies work. Next are tacos. Nachos. Greasy little cinnamon balls that ooze out sugary icing. The greedy bitch I am, I go through family packs of all of them. My gut slowly peaks out from underneath my not-so loose top, growing ever so steadily, trying to cope with the fact that I'm still hungry and I'm not going to stop quite yet. I feel the pangs, the feeling you get when you eat too much too fast, like you're going to explode. I feed off of that shit just as much as I feed off of delicious fake Mexican food and real chocolate ice cream. My guy loves when I talk about how full I am. How I'm such a greedy whore who needs her fix, needs more food going down her gullet, become full, fat, immobile. How I don't care I have seven different things dripping down my face, stains all over my shirt, noxious gases coming from both ends. How I get angry, dominant, obsessive when I'm not getting fed, when the food has run out and I'm demanding more. How I get calm, submissive, sweet when the food never stops, the fat doesn't stop piling on top of me. How I wish my clothes would never fit again, fat spilling over my waistband, popping buttons, breaking chairs, ripping seams, not being able to tell the difference between a fat roll and an elbow. My guy, he loves it, has to take a break from feeding my endless beast to jerk off a little. I tell him, don't mind me, I'll just keep eating. I swear I'm evil, he might cream himself before he can undo his zipper. While he works his dick, I work on a few personal pizzas. I egg him on, telling him this pizza's moment on my lips will forever be on my hips. I can feel my shirt riding up even more as my belly swells, so I ditch it completely. So here I am, topless, fatter and fatter I get, enjoying a slice of delicious five cheese, and I turn to my guy. Mouth open, chew, chew, swallow, chew, chew, swallow, belch, kiss. We lock eyes. You promised me, I said between bites, You promised to fill me up. Don't break this little girl's heart. With all this cholesterol, I don't think I could take it. And well shit, that did it. He gets in front of me, legs on either side of me, dick in one hand and my jaw in the other. It's so big, throbbing like crazy with every pulsing beat of his heated heart. He feeds me the tip first, and I obediently suck it, tongue it, get a good taste of it before he inches his dick further down my throat. It's not long before he's all in. I wouldn't say I was deepthroating him as much as he was face-fucking me. I really got him riled up, I could barely breathe with him ramming his hard cock down my throat, pulling it out, sliding it right back into place, lather, rinse, repeat. I was helpless, out of control, loving every second leading up to the final blow. I cradled my full stomach, awaiting the moment when I'd be swelling even more. Finally, I hear him gasping harder, increasing his speed until finally I feel his cum hit the back of my throat. It pours into me, feeding right down my esophagus into my belly. I feel every drip as he shakes violently, emptying everything he has into me. Every pump brings another warm load into my stomach. He slows down, his dick inches out of my mouth. I trace it along the shaft with my tongue, finally able to taste his cum. Once he's out, I can breathe a labored breath. My belly gurgles with approval, sloshing with a mixture of greasy food and delicious cum. I let the sensations of getting stuffed, getting fucked in the mouth, drinking his cum wash over me. I let my eyes drift closed, the soft groans and twitches of my full stomach lulling me into a stupor. And that's where I reside now. My guy is next to me, covered in his own cum, a smile plastered on his face. He'll be out for a while. As for me, I think I could squeeze in one more burger.