The Thrill Of Teasing Someone Under The Table, In A Restaurant, While They Try Their Best To Muffle The

The thrill of teasing someone under the table, in a restaurant, while they try their best to muffle the moans in fear of getting caught.

Bonus if the embarrassment turns them on :P

hearing 'good boy, good boy, good boy, good boy' chanted breathlessly over and over while they're ruthlessly pounding you into the mattress. thats it thats the post

Does anyone else get turned on thinking how easy it could be to let go and gain weight, hopelessly addicted to fast food?

Say you just order everything you actually want off the fast food menu - burgers, nuggets, fries, desserts, snacks, shakes - and as you get bigger, you just add more and more of it all until the 10,000 calorie challenge is no longer a challenge for you, but becomes an everyday occurrence… Leaving you hundreds of pounds heavier, waddling, bursting out of clothes, and insatiable… And the knowledge that you could lose control that much in a year or two?

Woof.

🥵🥵🥵🤤🤤🤤

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Thanks

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Would you rather the older lover be a smug, dominant feeder who wants to see you grow huge? Or would you rather they be a glutton whose metabolism is rapidly slowing and who needs you, young and plump, to be their caretaker and enabler?

Or perhaps both? 😏

I'll have to go with both. I wouldn't mind a smug glutton who needs my help but is also willing to try and get some meat on my bones that I'm thoroughly lacking. Telling them how big they're getting with each passing day of letting me stuff their face, but also finding new curves on myself after a few days of letting them occasionally feed me instead <3

No. The dozens of bags of Halloween candy in my cart aren't for the trick-or-treaters. The hundreds of thousands of calories in caramel, chocolate, nougat, cream, and just pure sugar aren't for the eager kids who'll come by my house next month.

They're for the lovely hog that lives in my house. The one who lays on my couch with a stomach that weighs nearly twice as much as me. The one who can't get to their feet without audibly groaning in exertion as they try to will their legs to work. The one who wears shirts that barely cover their chest, but can't even begin to cover the absolute yoga ball of a stomach that they've developed. The one who asks me to rub their belly when their arms can no longer reach the swollen front of it after a hearty stuffing session.

The one who I'm going to put in a tight, sexy costume and help hand feed the candy to on Halloween night, only stopping when the costume's seams finally pop and all the weight we just packed into them becomes easily visible as their rolls fall forward.