I stuff you to the point you're bloated round and panting heavily, not being able to catch a deep breath at all. Your cheeks flustered from pleasure and exhaustion.
I help you get up from the couch because you're obviously not able to do that on your own. All the extra weight I've helped you put on is now pressing you into the couch. And pressing your thick thighs apart, too.
Once you're on your feet, I pat you on your back and guide you to the door. You freeze in the hallway, looking at me with a surprised expression. "you want me to go out like this?" you ask, still breathing loudly, with one hand gently rubbing your overstuffed belly.
I want to show you off to the world, sweetheart. Show everyone I made a submissive, greedy, fat princess out of you.
I watch you struggle down the stairs, your hips swaying from side to side and your back arched, trying to even out the weight of your belly.
You waddle to the car but I shake my head. We're walking today, sweetheart. I won't allow myself to miss such a show by taking the car to the store. We're going just a few streets from home anyway, to fetch you a few snacks, since we ran out of the ones I thought will last for another few days. Your appetite is growing.
You walk slower than usual. You get out of breath faster with that stuffed belly poking from underneath your tank top. It used to be loose, but now it's clinging to your round middle and revealing some softness right above the waistband. Your jeans are hanging on for dear life too, for that matter. You had to suck in to button them when we were leaving the house, but now you're too tired to keep doing that, so they dig deep into your flesh.
We arrive at the store after a long walk that'd be much shorter if I went alone. But I couldn't resist letting you pick out the ingredients for tomorrow's stuffing.
"Hey, Isa!" we hear from behind. You turn around and notice it's your old friend from high school. Her eyes immediately land on your belly and I notice your face turning bright red from embarrassment.
"Oh my god, you're pregnant? Congratulations!" she exclaims happily.
"Thanks..." You nod and smile awkwardly. I put my hand on your belly, caressing it like a baby bump.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" your friend asks.
"It's too early to find out the gender just yet" I smile politely, kissing you on your temple.
"It doesn't look like that, you seem ready to pop!" your friend laughs and I notice you shifting uncomfortably. I tell her we have to go, still rubbing your belly which started to gurgle.
As we're walking away, I notice you pulling your top lower and trying to suck in, without much success, because your belly was still visible from all angles. "She really thought I"m pregnant" you whisper. "You're glowing, sweetheart" I assure you "No need to hide that beautiful tummy. Maybe ice-cream will help you feel better? I felt your belly rumble from hunger already". You nod eagerly and we continue shopping.
We come back home and you start to dig through the shopping bags. You open a tub of ice-cream and plop on the couch, it's gone in just 10 minutes. You open another one, but halfway through it I need to spoon-feed it to you. I don't mind though. Your belly sticks out even more than it did at the store when I finish and you're begging me for belly rubs. I don't think you actually mind those comments. I love them.
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