stuffing them so nice and full they can’t help but slip into a food coma. promising you’ll take such good care of them while they rest - after all, they worked so hard, didn’t they? they’ll feel so much better after a good nap. but then, of course, they just look so plush, so comfy and beautiful…you can’t help yourself. you need to reach out and touch. grab. squeeze, knead, bounce — your sweet, sleepy doughball. you’re even able to work some air out of them, burps slipping out unhindered by shame or etiquette…or wakefulness.
now that they’ve made some room, they look like they could use a snack.
you gently jostle them awake, holding a treat near their mouth. “hi, baby. here - just one more bite,” you murmur, knowing they’re too sleepy to protest. you press it past their lips, stroking their cheek as they chew, and the moment they swallow you coax them back to sleep.
it’s even easier than you thought.
so you start the cycle over: worshipping their body, mouthing at their chest, grinding against their thighs and tummy, diving between their legs, reaping the rewards of their indulgence for them…careful not to send them over the edge. not yet. if they start to wake up from an overeager bounce of their belly or too sharp a nip at their rolls? well, that just means it’s time for another treat~
a dizzyingly delicious cycle, so easy to get lost in. feeding them up even fuller than they started — and they’re just too deep in dreamland to keep track of how many “one more bite”s they’ve had. by the time they wake up for real, they’re packed to the brim, so full they can’t even roll over…and they barely know why. even more, they’re so riled up from however long you spent gorging yourself on them, it’s all they can do to beg you for help. so stuffed they can’t move, so turned on they can’t focus, and completely at your mercy.
you did promise they’d feel better once they woke up, didn’t you?
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