Hi! I'm Ginger (20s She/Her). This is my kink side blog. I like to think of myself as a feedress. I love fat dudes, gals, and nonbinary pals too. I like questions, so bring em on!
Ugh I think I ate my way out of this top 😳 maybe I shouldn't have drank all 3 litres of milkshakes on top of getting all that junk food from McDonald's.. but I just couldn't resist 🥴
BHM/FFA fiction. I like a slow burn, in case you couldn’t tell.
Leslie
“Oh fuck,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t believe I forgot again. I need a seatbelt extender.” He noticed after I’d fastened mine.
“I got it,” I unbuckled the latch and stood before he could protest.
“Excuse me,” I shuffled past the middle aged woman and asked a flight attendant for one. She looked confused and I explained it was for my friend. I noticed her start to follow me so I mentioned “oh, he knows how to attach it. You don’t have to show us.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s our policy. I have to make sure it’s secure.”
I tense up knowing that he’ll likely be embarrassed, but at least I’m here this time.
His eyes darted from me to the flight attendant and I squeezed myself close to him, handing him the extender.
The flight attendant plastered on a smile while explaining how to attach it. Before she finished her sentence, Ian already had it attached.
“Ma’am? Ma’am! Before you go,” the older woman caught her. “Is it safe to fly with…passengers this overweight?” My blood began to boil and I put my hand on Ian’s leg.
The attendant smiled. “He’s perfectly fine, thanks for your concern.” At least she was good about it. “Well, can you move my seat to an available one?” The haggard woman tried shooting him a dirty look and I willed my eyes to burn a hole into her skull.
“You’re not even next to him,” I spewed. Ian’s face was pale and he didn’t say a word. I placed my hand in his and he squeezed as if to say he was okay.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but our flight is entirely booked. Have a nice flight.”
There we sat, hand in hand, his heart probably racing from embarrassment, and mine from rage. But neither one of us let go. My hands were clammy from my heart rate skyrocketing but I didn’t want to let go.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Do things like that happen a lot?”
“More often than I’d like. This is my first time flying in two years,” he confessed.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is.” He replied matter of factly.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m used to it.” He noticed my exasperation and he tried to cheer me up, but that last sentence wasn’t very reassuring.
“I always thought the movies exaggerated that sort of thing. Like, people can’t be that rude, can they?”
“You’d be surprised.” He scoffed.
We continued getting to know each other. He has two dogs, Macy and Dill (named after the pickle), works in software, and has an older brother and younger sister. He’s been bigger his whole life but recently “let it get out of control,” in his words.
“Will you take me to one?” I asked after he’d explained he had season tickets for hockey.
“Take you to a game?”
“Yeah! I want to see you again.” Even I surprised myself with my boldness.
“You do?” He tried making eye contact but I looked down to play with the strings on his hoodie.
“Yeah, I mean…I don’t know? Do you?”
“Of…of course.” I breathed a sigh of relief and looked up to see him smiling. I wrapped my arm around his middle, feeling his belly gently shake and sway with the turbulence. It was pure ecstasy.
“I want to see you before my trip ends.”
“I can make that happen. Where are you staying?”
“With my friend. If I tell her about you she’ll think I’m crazy,” I laughed to myself.
“I know. I can’t believe this is actually happening.” He sounded giddy which made me smile.
“We have to see each other again.” He stated.
“Yes. Let’s plan it! Right now.”
“Okay,” he let out a chuckle at my excitement.
There he was, sitting at the bar with what I guessed to be an old fashioned in hand. He was impossible to miss. Biggest in the room by far. He looked around for me and back at his phone.
“Hey big guy,” I tried to maintain my composure but my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. He swung around so fast.
“Hey!” He stood up to hug me properly. I’m pretty sure I saw stars.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” He yelled over the live music and I nodded eagerly.
“Me either!”
“Here,” he offered me his seat and called the bartender over. “Put it on my tab.” I smiled up at him, still in disbelief he was right here. I placed my hand on his side and he smiled.
“Oh my god, I missed you.” His words were like velvet.
“I missed you too,” I breathed. It was just as amazing as seeing him for the first time. He was just so big. He took up so much space, and damn if he didn’t look good tonight. Navy blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, khakis, and matching blue vans. His hair was slicked back but pieces fell in front of his face. He belonged on a cover of a big and tall magazine…are those a thing?
“You look amazing,” his breath was hot on my neck, leaning close to make sure he was heard over the music.
“Thank you. I was just thinking the same about you.” The lights were dim over the bar but I bet he blushed.
He placed his hand over the small of my back. “Wanna go outside? It’s a little quieter.
“Sure,” I nodded in agreement.
We found benches which were perfect.
“Cheers,” I initiated and we clinked glasses. “I’m still so nervous,” I confessed.
“You?! No, no, no.” He shook his head. “The gorgeous and fit one doesn’t get to be nervous,” he joked and it was my turn to blush. He put his arm around the back of my side of the bench and I used it as an excuse to scoot closer to him, our thighs barely touching.
“God, I feel like I look even bigger next to you.”
I marveled at it. He was massive. He took up so much real estate on the bench. Four people fit on the one across from us, but there was just enough room for the both of us on our side. It was a dizzyingly hot realization. His thigh was bigger than both of mine put together, and his belly hung low enough to force his legs apart. He leaned back and his belly splayed out in front of him, spilling over the waistband of his pants and sat prominently in his lap. From the front, there was no telling whether he had a belt on or not, but from the side, you could see a small sliver of brown which matched his brown leather watch on his thick wrist. His fat love handles squished out above his belt and went around his back. I’d wished he’d worn a lighter color so I could see and appreciate the curves, rolls, and slopes of his fat more.
“What?” He asked as my eyes lingered on his body for too long.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
I leaned in to whisper “you look so good.” He scoffed. “You mean fat?” I felt my face flush immediately and he let out a true laugh.
“Really? That’s all it takes?”
I felt shy now and didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay. I looked it up.” He what?
“You what?”
“Oh, I um, since you said you like bigger guys…I - I looked it up.” He started, waiting for some type of response. I nodded, silently urging him to continue.
“Well, I looked it up and-“ he hesitated. “Well, there’s a lot of stuff out there.” I nodded again, encouraging him. “There’s a Wikipedia page on fat fetishism. Is that, that’s a thing. Is it one of your…things?” Again, I nodded furtively. “You get off on fat guys?” He whispered. I almost laughed at how he worded it, but it was true.
“More or less, yes.” He paused to consider.
“Do you have a limit?”
“No, not really. As long as you’re mobile and active enough.”
“Am I…your type?”
“Are you kidding?! To a TEE!” He smiled broadly, cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
“Do you want to know how much I weigh?” I nodded, words escaping me.
“Too bad,” he deadpanned and I swatted his arm.
“That was mean, you tease!”
“I’m kidding!” He put his hands up defensively. “Last time I checked…” he glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Four hundred fifteen.” I gulped. Fuck. Something about not knowing the exact number makes it even hotter. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He said almost to himself.
I discreetly grabbed his side where his fat rolls over his waistband “oh my god,” was all I could muster.
“And I checked a while ago. I’m probably bigger now.” He said it so nonchalantly I genuinely don’t think he was trying to turn me on. He’s so preciously naïve and new to this.
“Oh my god. That’s so hot.”
“I can’t believe you think so.”
We were definitely a sight. My petite, athletic frame next to his obese body. I loved it. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
“Baby…” he whispered and I felt a wave of emotion wash over me.
“Baby” I leaned into him and we just sat there together. It felt right. His arm around me, my small frame settling into him. It felt like the thing I’d been missing had clicked into place. We held each other like this for a little while. His whiskey soaked breath soaking into my hair as I leaned against him. His large, pudgy fingers drawing figure eights on my arm. I draped my arm over his middle, still shocked at the size. My friend texted me:
I snuck in to snoop and make sure u were ok. You both look so happy. Text me when ur done. ily.
I smiled and showed Ian. “That’s a good friend. And I’m glad she thinks we look cute.”
“She said happy.” I teased.
“Same thing.”
“So I was thinking…” he started, ready to gauge my expression.
“Hmm?”
He shifted in his seat. “Quite frankly, I’m not ready for tonight to end. Maybe we get a hotel?”
I glanced up to make sure he wasn’t kidding, but his tone was serious. Butterflies started swarming my stomach.
“Really?”
“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” I pondered it. I could share my location with my friend and I wouldn’t be at his house; I’d be somewhere more public. “You don’t have to answer right now,” he assured.
We continued talking and laughing, and as it got later, the more I dreaded leaving. We looked up available hotels and I called my friend to let her know.
“Is this really happening?” I ask. I feel like I’m still dreaming as we close out our tab.
“I can’t believe it either.” The bar is busier the later it gets and I’m standing in front of him, his belly slightly pressing into my back. It feels heavenly. I turn to face him while we wait for the check and he steps back slightly. I must’ve frowned because he asked what was wrong.
“Come here.” I reached for him and he chuckled, stepping forward just enough so his belly barely touched me.
“Sorry, I’m still not used to that.”
I felt like the only two people in that bar, despite conversations tumbling around us and bar orders being barked. I put my hands gently on his sides and he drew me into his arms.
“Hey” he whispered.
“Hey,” I looked up, mesmerized. A few seconds (that felt much, much longer) later, he tilted my chin up and his thumb caressed my cheek. I leaned into it like a dog being scratched and placed my hand over his.
“You’re so beautiful.” Now bashful, I looked away. When I looked up, he held my gaze.
Two people left and offered us their seats, which Ian was happy to take to get off his feet. I placed my hand on his thigh and he stopped bouncing it.
“Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry.” He smiled.
The stools were so close to each other considering two average sized people were previously on them. His huge leg touched mine and I leaned in slightly closer. He moved so he was facing me and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. This is it, I willed it to be. The next moment, his hand gingerly crept up the back of my neck and cradling my head, he drew me to his lips. Our lips found each other’s and I saw stars. It was a soft, furtive, meaningful kiss. Alcohol lingered on our breath as we stopped, foreheads pressed together, hearts racing. Tender, yet electrifying. It was a kiss that shut the world off as if we were the only two in the room.
We both sat there smiling like two kids sharing a first kiss.
He thanked the bartender and left a considerable tip, and with that, we left hand in hand. He opened the car door for me like a perfect gentleman and heavily plopped himself into the drivers seat, his belly just grazing the wheel. Once we’re buckled in he leans over to kiss my cheek.
“God, I’m so happy,” he sighs. My mouth immediately curls into a smile in return.
“Me too.” I still can’t believe this is real.
He puts directions in for the hotel and pauses.
“Should we - should we stop at McDonald’s first or something? I don’t really know how this works.”
“How what works?”
“Oh, um,” he licked his lips, struggling to elaborate. “You know, since you like…do you like…?” And it clicked. He was doing this for me.
“Oh, oh! Um, well I’ve never actually been with a bigger guy before.”
“You what?” He asked incredulously.
“Yeah, well, it’s hard finding guys who are my type.” And he laughed.
“Wait really? This is your first time ever?” He emphasized “ever,” clearly still having a hard time believing me.
“I mean, with a big guy, yeah.”
“Are - are you sure…do you think you’ll like it?”
“Of course!” I practically yelled. “But I don’t know what I’m doing, either.” I confessed and we both couldn’t help but laugh.
“I want to make your fantasies come true.” He looked at me seriously. I didn’t know what to say. He was serious; I could tell.
“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?” I could feel my face flush. He was willing to try, despite not sharing this kink. I took a second to gather my composure. My gaze found his belly.
“Can I…?” I watched him for a reaction as I slowly reached over, placing my hand on his belly. He didn’t respond so I kept going. I gently tugged at the fabric of his shirt to expose his belly, but it was stuck under his overhang. He helped pull it so his pale belly was slightly exposed.
“This?” I nodded, my hand rewarded with soft flesh.
“Wow,” I murmured to myself. He looked around to make sure no one was leaving the bar as his belly was on full display now. I gently began pressing my fingers into the soft adipose, still gauging his reaction. He still gripped the sides of his shirt in hand in case he quickly needed to cover back up.
“This is so hot.” He stifled a laugh.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“McDonald’s?” I asked, and he smirked.
Ian
I sped out of the parking lot, Leslie’s hand grabbing a handful of my stomach, or belly, as she affectionally calls it. I pull up to the McDonalds window and ask Leslie what I should get.
“Oh, I get to choose?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Just a moment,” he relays through the speaker.
Leslie scans the menu meticulously and whispers “do you like nuggets or burgers?”
“Both.” She smiled coyly at my response.
“Okay…Big Mac meal. A quarter pounder. Hmm. Nuggets.”
“How many?” I cut her off.
“Twenty? Is that a lot?” I smiled. She had no idea how much I could eat.
“Sure.”
“An extra order of fries. Large. Oh, and a milkshake or something…large.”
“Is that all, baby?” I watched her cheeks turn a light shade of crimson.
“I can eat more,” I pressed. She nodded, unable to speak.
“Uh, do you like chicken?” I nodded.
“A McChicken and another cheeseburger. Double cheeseburger. Double cheeseburger meal.”
I obliged and ordered everything she’d asked me to. I was nervous but excited to see her reaction. They handed me two bags filled to the brim and handed me two large cokes and a large chocolate shake. I just about drove away when they handed me another bag just for the fries.
“Jesus,” I mumbled under my breath.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Leslie purred.
“Oh, I bet you do,” I retorted.
On our way to the hotel, Leslie pulled out the bag with the fries. “You don’t want them to get cold,” she held a few towards my mouth and I opened willingly.
“Oh God, that’s good.” I didn’t mean to turn her on, but she looked at me almost as hungrily as I looked at the fries. She continued feeding me until we parked at the hotel.
My heart started banging in my chest, realizing this was actually about to happen. We didn’t have any bags besides the McDonalds ones. Were we just supposed to bring them in?
“Um, I guess I’ll check in if you want to wait in the car and we’ll bring the food in after?” I tried devising a plan, and she nodded in agreement.
“Cool. Be right back.”
Nervously, I fumbled for my ID and credit card and handed it to the front desk clerk. He handed me the cards and I met Leslie at the car which smelled of greasy fast food.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You ready?” I opened the car door for her and she handed me the bags stained with grease marks.
“Ready.” My free hand held hers and my other arm bear hugged the food. We ushered past the front desk and the energy was electric. Once inside the elevator, Leslie pressed her arm around my middle and I kissed the top of her head. I almost dropped the keycard in my excitement trying to open the door. Leslie flicked on the lights with her free hand and I let go of her other hand to set the food down on the desk.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey,” I returned, heart racing. I gently grabbed her waist and she tried wrapping her arms around me, getting nowhere close.
“Your food’s going to get cold.”
“Right.” I sat down at the desk chair, the metal creaking under my weight.
“So, how do we do this?” I asked innocently.
“I don’t know,” Leslie admitted, chuckling.
“Come here,” I outstretched my arms for her to sit on my lap. There was hardly any room with my belly overflowing onto my lap, but she sat daintily to the side on one of my thighs and placed her hand on my belly.
“Do you want to…feed me?” I asked timidly. She nodded, reaching for a bag. Unsure, she unwrapped the double cheeseburger and held it to my lips. Our eyes carefully watched each others’ reactions.
“Oh, that’s so good,” my words muffled by the mouthful. I opened my mouth after I’d finished the first bite and she delicately brought the burger back to my lips. Methodically, I chewed and swallowed, still trying to gauge her reaction. She gently placed her free hand on the side of my belly and I placed my hand on top of hers, letting her know it was okay.
“Would you be more comfortable on the couch?” She suggested.
“Sure,” I heaved myself out of the chair and followed her lead. The couch was much more comfortable, and she straddled me this time.
“Oh, hey.”
“Hi,” she barely squeaked, burger in hand. I opened my mouth again and took a bigger bite.
“Is this okay for you?” She asked. I nodded, mouth too full to speak.
She began rubbing my belly, then gently squeezing my love handle which spilled over my waistband. I’d never been touched like this before. My body sought after, craved, a sensual morsel ready to be devoured.
“Can you…unbutton your shirt?”
“Oh” I was caught off guard. “Sure.” She put the burger down and moved to the chair across from me, eagerly watching. I started at the top, pudgy fingers struggling to unbutton it.
“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath. I looked up and she was still intently watching.
First one, then the second, finally the third. My eyes carefully watching hers, glued to each button. My chest was out on full display and my heart rate quickened with each button I undid, hoping this is was what she had hoped for. I finally reached the last button and my belly pooled into my lap, well over my waistband.
“So, yeah…” I didn’t know what to say. Her eyes scoured over me, taking in everything. Suddenly, my face went hot and I felt self conscious. My body had never been scrutinized like this before.
“Oh my god,” she said to herself. “You’re perfect.” I’m sure my heart skipped a beat in that moment. She stood up and knelt on the floor between my legs, softly scratching my belly with her nails. I was frozen. Normally I’d try to suck in or pull my shirt together, but I was stunned. Her nails traversed over my body and she opened my shirt a little wider. I sat up off of the back of the couch so she could more easily manipulate the fabric.
“Is this okay?” I felt nauseous for a second.
“You’re fucking perfect.” She pried her eyes off of my body to look me in the eye. “This is amazing,” she sounded awestruck and I couldn’t move, could barely breathe. “Your body is perfect.” Her nails dug into my fat sides and I winced.
“Sorry,” she pulled her hands away and I put them back.
“It’s okay.”
Leslie
I felt like I was going to pass out. How long was I holding my breath for? Oh my god. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. I don’t want to wake up. But he’s here, in front of me, shirt wide open, flabby belly on display. Utter perfection. Evidently my brain had stopped working, but my hands hadn’t. The sensation of his fat under my my hands was enough to push me over the fucking edge. No amount of daydreaming could have prepared me for the sensation of soft fat squished between my fingers.
“Are you okay?” He looked flushed.
“Yes,” he managed.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I - I want you to touch me.”
I obliged, happily. It was slow, intense, uncertain, and briefly nerve-racking. Each of us trying desperately to read the other.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“That I can’t believe this is happening,” he replied. Yeah, me either.
A smile crept onto my lips and I maintained eye contact as my lips descended to his belly. Pure ecstasy. My lips were met with the softest, doughiest, most sinfully pleasant feeling. I pressed in hard, kissing his belly with fervor. His breath hitched and I shot up.
“Is that okay? I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize,” he sounded like he just caught his breath. “I like it.” He guided my lips back to his belly. I couldn’t stop adorning it with kisses, pressing my lips into the fattest parts, feeling his fat bounce back. My hands instinctively found his love handles and squeezed, willing his body closer to my lips. I wanted all of him. He pressed my face in further, soft moans escaping now and then, making me even more ravenous for him.
“Take off your shirt.” I commanded when I came up for air. Without hesitation, he shrugged it off and grabbed me, pulling me on top of him, hesitation out the window. He kissed me hard and we were both breathless, moaning quietly into each other’s mouths. His hands crept up and unhooked my bra as my hands lifted his overhang and squeezed mercilessly.
“God, you’re so fucking fat.”
“You fucking love it.” I moaned in response. In my stupor, I started grinding onto his belly and he pulled me in as if trying to get me closer. He picked me up and threw me onto the bed with ease. I scooted up to give him ample room and reached for him, his belly hanging over me. The bed creaked and groaned in protest of his weight which only turned me on more. “God, yes,” I was a breathless mess. He struggled to hold his own weight up over me and he began sweating, his breathing almost a wheeze. I doubt he’s exerted himself like this in a long time.
“I can’t…hold myself up like this…for long,” he struggled.
“Crush me.”
“What?” He paused.
“Crush me. I want to feel your weight on me.”
“Baby…that, that might hurt.”
“Please,” I arched my back, trying to force my body into his more and clawed into his back. He scoffed.
“You’re not that strong, baby.” He teased. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please, I’m begging you.” He got up from all fours and sat up, looming over me. His pants were still on and stretched dangerously in this position.
“Okay…but tap me or something if it’s too much.” I nodded, silently promising.
He slowly eased himself on top of me and I saw stars from a combination of his weight and from being so hopelessly turned on. He quickly came back up.
“Was that okay?” I gasped, filling my lungs with the air he’d squeezed out.
“Amazing,” I was surprised I could even speak, my hands again reaching for his fat back, squeezing his fat love handles and attempting to push him on top of me again. He rolled onto his side, more like collapsed, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.
“Sorry,” he breathed. “I’m so out of shape.” Again, I was voracious for him. I practically lunged for his fat. Laying on his side, his belly spilled out onto the mattress and covered my leg.
“That’s so hot,” I bit my lip, unable to contain myself. I grabbed his fat roll just below his moobs and squeezed it, his eyes searching mine to make sure it was still okay. I couldn’t keep my hands off of him. Every inch of fat begged to be touched, prodded, squeezed, appreciated, reveled…and there were so many inches. I squished my slim body against his as we laid facing each other, the sensation of his soft, warm fat against my toned body driving me absolutely insane. We were feral. When he’d finally have enough strengths to buck his hips, his fat belly rippled and jiggled into me. He tried desperately to hump me but his giant belly was in the way. He kept trying and it added to my desperation for him. Lying on my side, I cupped his belly and forced it onto my clit. We were both so ravenous we hadn’t even finished taking off our clothes. I sat up and quickly tore off my jeans and shirt. He, on the other hand, took a bit longer. Sitting up, his belly covered his pants and he lifted his belly with one hand, searching blindly for his belt with the other. Immediately, I came to the rescue. He lifted his belly while I yanked his belt and finally managed to undo it.
“Fuck, come on,” he was getting impatient, but I was relishing in it.
“So fat you can’t even take off your pants without help.” His brows furrowed with concentration as he felt for the button. His pants must’ve been tight because once the button was undone, the zipper instantly unzipped.
He spat on his finger and instinctively pulled my thong to the side.
“I just want your body,” I moved his hand away and he nodded.
“You’re that obsessed with my body, huh?” He teased. “Gonna cum from my fat?” I nodded madly. “Do it, then,” he challenged, lying down on the bed. I climbed on top and straddled him, shocked at how far my legs had to spread to allow for his massive body to fit in between.
“So fucking fat,” I moaned, gripping his fat moobs as I bucked my hips on his belly overflowing with fat. Somehow he was still sweating despite me being on top. His hands gripped my hips and pushed me further into his belly, urging me to cum.
“That’s…right…baby,” he was utterly breathless, fat swaying and jiggling mercilessly as I rocked my hips on him. “Use my fat body to make yourself cum.” It came out almost as if it was one word, too much exertion being used up for more important things, like shaking his fat body.
I bit down on his fat roll to silence my orgasm, squeezing his fat love handles mercilessly.
“Oh my GOD.” We were both panting and my legs shook as I rolled off and beside him. “Such a good fatty,” I breathed into the mattress.
“Oh my god,” his chest rose and fell dramatically and he rolled over onto his side, fat belly pooling over me. I couldn’t help but laugh. Holy shit. That just happened.
He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“I can’t believe you just came on my belly.”
My cheeks reddened. “Me either.”
He held me for a moment and I whispered “your turn,” to which he propped himself up.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, but you have to finish eating.”
He looked at me deviously and placed my hand over his belly. “Only if you feed it to me.”
Something I always love is weight gain beyond your control. No matter how little you eat, how hard you exercise, the weight just keeps slowly creeping. Usually I see it in the form of a curse or some undiagnosed condition- but the thought of slow, irreversible, unstoppable weight gain slowly swallowing your body…
Look in the mirror. No, really, stop and take a long look. Really see that enormous belly hanging down in front of your crotch. The plump tits flowing out on top of that. The soft, pillowy upper arms crushing those wobbling rolls running down your sides. Turn, and see the bulging ass and cottage cheese thighs that make you waddle around everywhere. Let it sink in: you’re much, much fatter than most people will ever get, and you’re still the thinnest you’ll ever be.
You know something’s wrong. You know most people don’t put on weight like this. You know you don’t deserve the stares, the judgment, the whispered comments and stifled chuckling from the stick figures at the gym or the coffee shop. You eat like they do. You exercise like they do. And yet.
Every week, it’s a couple more pounds. A foregone conclusion that every scrap of clothing will be hopelessly tight a couple months from now. A certainty that the next year will see you in a totally different weight class — fatter, weaker, slower. Less and less able to exercise, less and less reason to resist blowing up the diet you hate. And that cold, chilly feeling in the back of your mind when you think about what a few more years of this will do to you…
areudirty
amandla
discoholicmusic
pixelskylines
titsay
dailybridgerton
