You waddle, heaving. You're vision is far too blurry to really see where you're going, partly because of the food-drunk state you're in after your last buffet, mostly because of just how out of breath you are, after all it's been a while since you've walked this much, that is to say walked more than from your bed to the car. Still, even in the dizzy state you find yourself in you still manage to go go in the right direction Luckly for you, the restaurant's doors were already open, not that it would've mattered much if they weren't of course, your body is heavy enough to break couches just by sitting on them, so a little obstacle like that wouldn't have mattered anyway. Heavy step after heavy step you finally reach your booth, where you can finally sit your fat ass down. the relief makes you moan, and as you huff and puff trying to catch your breath, a burp or two leave your mouth. Blood finally starts flowing to your brain again, giving you back your senses.
You instantly notice that there are very few people inside at the moment, which is nice. Some of them stare at you, or rather at the diamonds of skin your shirt is far too tight to hide, but you're used to it; having to buy a new wardrobe every three months is a bit too expesive for someone who spends their entire paycheque on food, so you've learned not to care. Something you do find hard to dismiss however, is the table that's currently digging in your distended gut, something that you find just as uncomfortable as it is arousing. How long until you'll stop fitting inside even the XXL booths they have here? Your fatpad covers your instant, throbbing boner.
As if you weren't horny enough already, your favorite chubby server (chubby by your standards, most people'd just say fat), the one that always blushes when taking your order and stumbles a bit when bringing your food. Looking at how tight his shirt fits around his chest, you'd say he's filling out quite nicely.
"Good evening, can I get your order?"
You catch his eyes wandering all over your body.
"I'll uhh-huUWOARPph-h get the Fat Pig's Sloppy Bacon Cheeseburger a-aAWWHOAAa-and a Big Cock Chickenburger. Oh, and also I'd like a 30pc box of nuggets, pl-WHA-ease."
Though the names of the burgers they serve here may be a bit corny, just hearing your gluttonous order accompanied by the wonderful melody of your belching was enough to fully melt him, it seems, as you notice him clearly hiding the wood in his pants with his notebook.
"A-and what sodas will you have?"
"Two large colas please."
"I'll be right here with your order."
He dashes back towards the kitchen. Meanwhile, you rub your belly, trying to make some room for all the food he'll soon bring you.
