Part 2 “Fresh pumpkin pie, all for my piggy.” I hold out a ..

Part 2 “Fresh pumpkin pie, all for my piggy.” I hold out a fork and you take it graciously, pulling me down to sit as you sink the fork into the crust and scoop out a considerable amount of sweet pie. You push it into your mouth and moan softly at the taste, shivering from arousal when my hand touches your stomach. You know that this is just the beginning… “Damn, that’s good.” You take another bite, then another, eating quickly and steadily until about a third has disappeared already. I give your stuffed belly a firm pinch. “Almost forgot to grab some milk for you. How about chocolate milk? I bet that’d be perfect.” You nod and I slip out of the dining room and into the kitchen. When I come back, you hastily grab the cup, sucking down almost half in no time. You place the cup on the table with a burp. “Feeling pretty stuffed, Nico…” “Then put your feet up and I’ll do the work.” I assure, guiding your fat body to the couch for a more comfortable position- head on the pillows; thighs spread for me to settle in between. You brace yourself to stand with a grunt and try to lift your fat ass from the seat, but your gut is too heavy for you to get up. I reach out my hand and use all of my strength to get you up as you moan about how full your belly is. You waddle to the living room and plop your heavy body onto the couch and I straddle your lap. I pluck up the pie and balance it on the bulge of your round belly, spooning you a huge bite. You close your eyes and chew, one hand resting on the taut curve of your stomach while the other settles on my forearm, squeezing it gently when I press my body flush against yours, hips grinding down with aching need. “You're doing such a good job, baby.” I hum. “I think you're on your way to polishing off this whole damn thing.” You moan, breathing through your mouth as you chew. I feel your dick twitch beneath me from the praise; from the teasing. My free hand is rubbing at the massive dome of fat that has become your belly. Your hips coil and rut, the rate only slowing when your core goes rigid ( a telltale sign that you’re nearing climax) and you beg me for more. My hand swipes smoothly over your round gut, the other shoveling bite after bite into your awaiting lips. Your breathing is heavy, each bite taking a little longer to chew and swallow than the last, but I offer frequent breaks for you to breathe and sip your milk. It‘s not long before hardly any pie remains and I can hear the arousal in my own voice. “Just two more, piggy, I know you can do it…” You nod, accepting the next forkful to your lips with a whimper. You take your time to chew, gulping it down and opening your mouth for the final bite. I feed it to you, and my eyes are eager as I watch you lick crumbs from the corners of your mouth, entirely unable to breathe smoothly with how tight your belly is. I slip the tin away almost immediately, kissing along your soft neck, over your perky tits that sit on the dome of your fat gut, my hips grinding desperately against yours. “Shit, piggy, I-I’ve never been as turned on as I am now…” I whisper into your ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so stuffed.” You throw your head back, body spreading as if to make more room for your bloated, distended gut. Despite the discomfort, your cock is throbbing against my thigh, and the heat of your arousal only inspires me to move a little faster against your pinned body. “I don’t think so, either,” I breathe, both hands moving over the bloat of your gut.