Even before meeting her, you were never "skinny". That's probably what drew her to you in the first place, now that you think about it. She could tell you were a girl who knew how to eat, and she made sure that "talent" of yours was properly nurtured...
She was so sly about it at first. She'd make too much pasta for herself, then offer you the leftovers because she "doesn't like to waste food". She'd always insist on ordering the Family Deal whenever you two got take-out, even though it was just the two of you eating, because "it's more economical!". And there was that one time when she came home with a huge carton of ice-cream that wouldn't fit into the freezer, so you had to eat the entire thing in one sitting. She'd made up some excuse about how she was already full from grabbing something to eat on her way home. That didn't explain why she needed to watch as you lifted each spoonful to your lips and swallowed it, or why she called you a good girl when she took the empty cardboard bucket away from you as you nursed your bloated belly, or why she was so horny while spooning you that night...
If you're honest with yourself, maybe the warning signs were a little more obvious than you thought.
At the time though, you had no idea that something strange was going on. Weight gain happened to everyone, you didn't start panicking just because you'd accidentally put on a few pounds. Even when it turned into a couple dozen pounds, you were still so nonchalant about it - You still managed to fit into your stretchiest clothes, so you didn't have to do anything drastic like a diet just yet. You'd always been big... Your girlfriend didn't seem to mind that you were just a little bigger now, so you weren't going to worry about it either.
If only it had stopped there...
You remember when you finally grew too big for your stretchiest pair of sweatpants. You tugged and tugged against the fabric, trying to drag it up and over your thick rolls of belly flesh, just enough to hide your deep belly button away from sight, when you heard the unmistakable rip of overburdened seams giving way, followed by an unexpected breeze across your thighs and ass as exposed cellulite rushed to spill out of the destroyed pants. She had been there to watch as you ungracefully freed yourself from the torn fabric, growing breathless and sweaty with the effort of extricating your soft flesh from the tight remnants of the sweatpants. As you struggled, she had reassured you: "It's okay babe, I'll get you some new ones! I guess you've just been a little piggy lately..."
You disregarded it as a little playful teasing, but her teasing seemed to get a little meaner from that point onwards. She asked you to "try not to be such a fatass this time" when she gave you your new pair of sweatpants (in a size XXL this time). Every time she caught you looking in the fridge, she'd grab you by one of your belly rolls and warn that "you'll get fat if you keep that up, big girl... Well, even fatter, I mean..." And there was that one time when the two of you were showering together and she asked "does my whale need any help with all that blubber?"
She was making it easier and easier to overeat, and weight just kept piling on with every week that went by. You were noticing new rolls of lard and creases of flesh where there hadn't been any before, and your girlfriend always grabbed a handful of your thickening love handles on her way out after dropping a plate of snacks next to your keyboard. You grew so much lazier and greedier as the extra bulk made every movement such a chore. Stairs left you sweaty and breathless now; standing up from your gaming chair took two or three attempts because of the mound of jiggling blubber filling your lap; every meal left you stuffed to the brim as your girlfriend kept increasing your portions to push your limits...
One day, after eating a huge dinner she had prepared for you, along with two servings of dessert (she had insisted...), you struggled your way upstairs with your stuffed belly bouncing from thigh to thigh with every step, waddled to the desk where your PC was waiting, dropped your fat ass into your gamer chair... and then continued dropping, all the way to the floor. You'd finally done it. The chair had taken all it could handle. Its bolts had been asked to take more strain than they could bear, and had instead dumped you onto the floor like a pale mound of jelly. When you eventually struggled to your feet and dusted yourself off, you turned to see your girlfriend smiling at you from the doorway and biting her lip. Her face was flushed with arousal as she stared at the look of embarrassment on yours.
You looked down at your thick rolls of belly fat, at your cellulite-laden thighs, at your heavy tits that sat atop your shelf of a gut, and then looked back at her.
"Have you been doing this... on purpose?" you asked her, taking two handfuls of your own soft flab.
"Have... Have I been doing this? Piggy, you've done all of this yourself!" She moved closer, slipping her thumb into your navel and aggressively jiggling your bloated gut. A small whine escaped from your lips, but was silenced by her finger against your lips. "Sure, I might have put all that food in front of you, but it was you who couldn't help but shovel it all into their greedy snout..."
She gently pushes you by your belly towards the bed, and without protest, you let it happen. You let her sit you down on top of the mattress, keeping your mouth shut as she takes a seat in your lap.
"You make for such a comfortable throne, you know that, you big tub of lard? These thighs are like pillows... And sure, I have to share this seat with your thick apron of belly fat, but I wouldn't have my spoiled, plump princess any other way!" Her hands bury themselves under your dough muffin top, squeezing your soft flesh as your ear is filled with the sound of her aroused panting. Her hot breath on your neck sends shivers up your spine, which only makes you jiggle more for her. You're putty in her hands as she kneads the pounds of squishiness that she's been cultivating around your midriff.
"Are you really going to ruin all my fun, fatty? Or are you going to let your queen keep fattening you up until you can't even lift a finger any more?"
Your aroused panting is interrupted by a growl from your stomach. She looks down at your gropeable belly rolls, then back at your flushed, breathless face. She sees complete submission in your eyes as she smiles back at you.
"I knew you'd make a good pig - but I still want you so much fatter, babe..."
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