Fat Bhm - Tumblr Posts - Page 8

Medium might be a bit too small 😄

Filling up, but the shirt remains strong 💪🏼

A cake a day keeps the skinny away

Pt.2

pt.1 I tried eating 12 dounts in one setting got down to five left not bad got for a frist proper attempt

Sucking my belly in 💪🏼🐻

Have a nice wide wensday everyone 🐻😋

Happy tummy Tuesday 😋

Just messing around with some angles 😁🐻

Thinking about how much wider I want to be and my bed struggle under my weight 💪🏼🐻 my thought of the day

It's tummy Tuesday 😋

Progression into a Fatboy: April 2023 - November 2023 (160lbs-260lbs)

100lbs gained over the course of 8 pictures

Do you want to get back to your old weight ?

I think I want to be even fatter than my old weight? I think 450lbs is a good size for my height, but who knows?

no belt needed anymore 😜

should i start oinking?🐷🐽

fit check🥴

Another bite.

Your gut is fighting against your waistband, and with that last swallow, your waistband is starting to lose. I can see your hand flutter weakly towards the center of your swollen belly, fingers reaching toward the creaking denim interrupted by a shiny copper button.

I take your hand and push it down to your soft thigh. No, you WILL eat your way out of these jeans. You struggle slightly; visibly and uncomfortably stuffed.

You said you wanted me to make you fat, no, massive. Even as you struggle to take in a full breath, I can see the flush in your face. You can’t get enough of this feeling.

Another bite.

Your eyes roll back. A groan escapes your lips just long enough for me to stuff another bite in. Your jeans creak a little. Not enough. You squirm, your gut starting to cover the button.

Another bite.

You can’t help but moan as you chew. Constant muffled grunts and moans, noises somewhere between pain and ecstasy as you stuff yourself.

More. MORE.

You’ve slowed down. You can’t slow down, you’re so close. I stuff a full handful of food into your mouth and hold my hand against your lips. Swallow. I replace my empty hand with a full one. You are starting to sweat, chewing and swallowing and groaning all the while. Your shirt is skintight now, riding up past your deep belly button. You start to squirm harder, barely able to find purchase pinned under the weight of your nearly comically swollen belly.

Another handful passes your lips. Ill let you up once you can get out of those jeans without unbuttoning them. I’ll rub your poor gut, but you can’t stop eating for me. You wanted to be massive, you have to EAT.

You struggle to swallow. Even your skin feels too tight now. You feel like you’re sinking into the couch under your own weight. It’s been a long time since you could see anything other than your gut looking down, but you’ve never seen so much of it.

Get fat for me. Get so fucking massive you’ll never be able to touch yourself again. So fucking horny from every ripple of your body. EAT.

You feel a sharp twinge; simultaneously hearing a loud snap. The button from your jeans flies clean off, pinging around the floor. True to my word, I reach down and rub your stuffed, swollen belly.

Just a break for now, the delivery will be here in 10 minutes. I know you’ll make more room for me then.

Make me fatter.

A wave of fat ripples across my body as I reach for my throbbing dick. It’s so much harder to reach now, smashed between two fat lips and even fatter thighs, not to mention my fupa the size of a melon.

Make me so fucking fat I can’t cum without you.

I squirm desperately to get a grip on my fat little cock. Once again, slipping between rounded fingers. The bed groans with every thrust of my hips. It was never meant to hold this much man, not built to withstand the sheer force of hundreds of pounds of fat jostling to and fro. Bathed in sweat, I tug at my gut and shudder at the sensation. I thrust upwards, harder, and gasp as the wave of cellulite impacts the folds covering my member. 

You’ll have to feed me until I can’t even move an inch under my weight.

Gasping for air, I try to thrust even harder. Gods I’ve gotten fat. Fighting against immense exhaustion, I roll to the side and tuck an arm under my massive gut. Finally, my fat fingers get a nice grip. My stomach growls.

Hear that? Every bit of pleasure makes me desperate for more. Feed me more. Stuff me. I’ll be good and down it all. 

Feel like you might explode? Another bite. You won’t explode. Not yet. Your gut is nearly entirely covered in angry red stretch marks now; I won’t stop stuffing you until every inch of it is. You look like you might blow from one poke. Eat more, I know you’re not full. If you were, you’d be pinned under that gut, and you’re still wiggling enough to resist another gulp. Give in, pig. Stop fighting, let me stuff you senseless. You won’t ever feel hungry again, always stuffed so tight you’re nearly in tears. You’re going to get so fat for me. Eat.

Another bite.

Your gut is fighting against your waistband, and with that last swallow, your waistband is starting to lose. I can see your hand flutter weakly towards the center of your swollen belly, fingers reaching toward the creaking denim interrupted by a shiny copper button.

I take your hand and push it down to your soft thigh. No, you WILL eat your way out of these jeans. You struggle slightly; visibly and uncomfortably stuffed.

You said you wanted me to make you fat, no, massive. Even as you struggle to take in a full breath, I can see the flush in your face. You can’t get enough of this feeling.

Another bite.

Your eyes roll back. A groan escapes your lips just long enough for me to stuff another bite in. Your jeans creak a little. Not enough. You squirm, your gut starting to cover the button.

Another bite.

You can’t help but moan as you chew. Constant muffled grunts and moans, noises somewhere between pain and ecstasy as you stuff yourself.

More. MORE.

You’ve slowed down. You can’t slow down, you’re so close. I stuff a full handful of food into your mouth and hold my hand against your lips. Swallow. I replace my empty hand with a full one. You are starting to sweat, chewing and swallowing and groaning all the while. Your shirt is skintight now, riding up past your deep belly button. You start to squirm harder, barely able to find purchase pinned under the weight of your nearly comically swollen belly.

Another handful passes your lips. Ill let you up once you can get out of those jeans without unbuttoning them. I’ll rub your poor gut, but you can’t stop eating for me. You wanted to be massive, you have to EAT.

You struggle to swallow. Even your skin feels too tight now. You feel like you’re sinking into the couch under your own weight. It’s been a long time since you could see anything other than your gut looking down, but you’ve never seen so much of it.

Get fat for me. Get so fucking massive you’ll never be able to touch yourself again. So fucking horny from every ripple of your body. EAT.

You feel a sharp twinge; simultaneously hearing a loud snap. The button from your jeans flies clean off, pinging around the floor. True to my word, I reach down and rub your stuffed, swollen belly.

Just a break for now, the delivery will be here in 10 minutes. I know you’ll make more room for me then.