“Steady, my darling,” I say, my warm hand settling on your pudgy hip to steady you as we stand in front of the mirror, you in front of me, my body pressed up against your back. Your low groan brings a smirk to my lips and I rest my chin on your shoulder, my free hand roaming the opposite hip, pressing into the soft layer of fat and giving it a squeeze.
“Sorry,” you say with a labored breath. “I’m so fucking full, baby. Hard to stand up at all.”
“I know.” My smile grows as I meet your eyes in the mirror. “That’s the point.” You roll your eyes before returning my gaze. I notice a flush on your cheeks and I laugh.
“Embarrassed?” I ask, voice playful. “How weird, when you were only just begging me to do this after eating everything in sight.” I see your cock twitch in your boxers, straining further against the fabric, and I try to keep my composure - something that gets harder every time we do this.
“And?” You’re almost pouting now, your hands resting gingerly on your swollen gut. You don’t have a rebuttal, as we both know it’s true.
I let it slide, instead much more interested in the image in the mirror. My gaze shifts darker as I take in your gluttonous form, my practiced hands sliding down your sides to grab handfuls of your overhang.
“Fuck, baby,” you groan as I jostle your stomach.
I hum in agreement. I’m sure you can feel my heart thudding behind you and my own face heats up despite my efforts to stay cool. “So full,” I murmur, pressing down ever so gently into the top of your taught stomach. “I love inspecting my handiwork. Do you think you’ve gotten bigger?”
You nod, a soft belch coming up at all the movement.
“Where?” I ask. I pinch a soft lovehandle. “Here? Or maybe…here?” My other hand moves to squeeze your plump chest. You moan again and lean back into me.
“What do you think, baby?” I ask again. I bring a hand back around behind you and grab a handful of your ass, squeezing there too before letting go with a light smack.
“I don’t…um,” you gasp as my hands continue to roam your body, jiggling and squeezing your most delicious parts, stopping only to soothe your stuffed gut, still so firm from everything I fed you. I meet your gaze in the mirror again and I can see the need plain as day on your face. I’m sure you can see it on mine, too.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe. I’m frozen my mouth is dry; I’ve realized with a jolt of arousal that I can’t reach your dick standing behind you anymore. I turn you around and back you up against the wall, taking care not to put too much pressure on your stomach. One hand reaches down to brush your bulge while the other pulls you in for a deep kiss. You moan, pressing your hips into my hand and gripping my waist for support.
I pull away and lean close to your ear. “Get on the bed, my love.”
I don’t need to tell you twice.
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