Nine months, nine months! Miss Lorna couldn’t help but giggle as she saw the date on the calendar: January 15, 1957. It wouldn’t be long until her perfect little triplets would be born. The London housewife let out a childish giggle as she patted the engorged swell of her pregnant belly, squishing the ample layer of gelatinous fat that sheathed her womb. It was only natural to gain a little weight, she had told herself; her sagging, parted breasts strained against her bra, her flabby lower belly jiggled as she walked, and her cellulite-ridden thighs ballooned outwards to further exaggerate her plumpness. To Lorna, the new, voluptuous figure was a welcome addition – nothing to worry about for a woman in her mid 40s so bountifully heavy with child. There was more to grab, more to squeeze, and more for passers-by to stare at as she waddled and bounced.
“Oh golly!” She gasped, recalling what she’d planned to spend the day doing. “I was going to do some baking! Silly baby brain!” Lorna cooed, shaking her brown curls before pulling out an array of bowls.
She glanced over at the calendar, which had “Cinnamon rolls” written on it in thick red ink. Being a woman of strict daily routine, Lorna was certainly going to make some. She was craving them intensely the past week, and the infants inside her were constantly demanding all manner of foods – usually sugary and calorie dense – that were piling additional fat onto her already curvy body. As she began to measure out the flour for mixing, the thought of her belly growing heavier and softer caused her stomach to let out a ravenous gurgle, and she licked her lips in anticipation for the weight she was about to put on.
As she mixed the various ingredients together, the thought of stuffing her face full of sweets played to her arousal. In response, her raging pregnancy hormones started to churn into action, her engorged pussy quivering as a thick droplet of whitish fluid started to ooze into her girdle. It became increasingly normal for Lorna to become so easily turned on, but she fought the sensation and continued to cook. The first two batches of cinnamon rolls were ready, only requiring a simple mix with a healthy dose of sultanas and raisins. She shoved them into the oven, working up a bit on a sweat as she bent over. With some difficulty, she righted herself, arching her back to counteract the heft of her fleshy, full-term belly. She braced her hands against her bulging hips as her face flushed red with a sudden hot flash.
“Oooohhh” Lorna whimpered, watching as her belly trembled and heaved with the movements of her womb, “the babies must be excited for these rolls, but I better make some icing first!”
And so she began a customary check of the shelves, only to find them bare of the sweet sugar she craved. Her plush face showed signs of slight irritation as she realised how empty her pantry was.
“Oh darn” the housewife sighed, slapping her squishy thigh, “poor Lorna, what am I supposed to do now?”
The slap was followed by a loud squelch, then a splat: Lorna looked down to see a splatter of creamy goop upon the kitchen floor. She sighed, for this kind of vaginal discharge became increasingly commonplace as her hormones neared their peak. As her pregnancy progressed, cream always seemed to be leaking from her puffy genitals, soaking into her undergarments and oozing like thick custard down the curves of her legs.
“Not again,” she muttered, squatting down to scoop a dollop of her discharge off the insides of her thigh. It was thick, opaque, and chunky to the touch, quite different from the clear stringy substance it used to be. She brought it up to her face, and her nose wrinkled as she caught an unusual scent. Did it smell…. sweet?
With hesitation, Lorna pushed the gooey finger to her lips – “Oh…. oh my!” she squealed, her eyes widening with surprise. It tasted so creamy and rich, with the texture of warm, melted ice cream. The flavor was intoxicating, like honey with a hint of her own bodily scent. Letting her arousal take over, she dove her finger back down, and this time, pushed it into her dripping vaginal opening with a wet squelch. The action made her moan and her belly spasmed before she brought the sloppy finger out and licked it clean, swirling the cream in her mouth before swallowing it. “This would be perfect!” Lorna declared when the oven timer suddenly rang.
The smell of cinnamon wafted through the air, teasing the flustered housewife’s senses as she rushed to the oven. She bent over to take out the finished rolls, the flab of her belly squelching against her glistening, fluid-coated thighs. The movement caused a dainty puff to escape from her behind.
“Oh gosh! E-excuse me…” Lorna stammered, taken aback at her unladylike flatulence. Her moment of embarrassment was cut short when she felt another glob of cream running down her leg. Her cheeks reddened, and she set the tray of cinnamon rolls on the ground so she could give in to her body’s true desires. She slipped a finger inside herself, then two, then her entire hand. She began to thrust, the wet sounds of her loose pussy interrupted by whimpers and moans. Cream oozed out steadily, forming a white ring around her wrist as she worked her hand in and out. It didn’t take long before a powerful orgasm rippled through her body: “I-I’m cumming!” Lorna squealed. She withdrew her hand, and her soaked labia contracted with a wet smack. Then, the flood began.
With a sticky squelch, a large, gunky mass of thick discharge erupted from her engorged pussy, clinging onto her labia for a brief moment before dropping down like a bomb. It landed atop the pile of cinnamon rolls, plastering them in the sloppy goop and coating them in a layer of the glistening slime. A few drops splashed back, dotting her stockings with white cum.
“My, oh my!” gasped Miss Lorna. She squeezed the squishy mass of her full term pregnant gut with her cream-covered hands and trembled with surprise. “The icing!”
She grabbed a steaming hot roll, oozing chunky ropes of thick cream as she savored the dual flavor of cinnamon and her own gooey sweetness. With her free hand, Lorna plunged her fist into her pussy once again, dipping it in and out as she ate. Each time she pulled out, a massive clump of discharge churned out, piling onto the cinnamon rolls below. A sizable mountain of cream had built up under her as Lorna came again, unable to scream with her face stuffed full of sweets and cum. A final mass of cream plopped out, covering the last bit of cinnamon rolls that were still exposed.
Coming down from her orgasm, Lorna moaned softly as she massaged her fat, bulging mound, running her discharge-coated fingers through her bush and working the cream into the jiggly flesh like lotion. She nearly got carried away again, but she looked down and caught a full view of her messy, creamy creation.
“Dearie me!” Miss Lorna stuttered, her mouth gaped open in shock, “there’s so much… it’s so thick… my pussy… how did I–”
The mixture of equal parts awe and disgust sent her brood squirming with excitement, kicking inside her womb before a sudden hot surge coursed through her breast. Surprised, Miss Lorna glanced down, only to see that thick, porridge-like milk was starting to run from her engorged nipples, smearing her dark, bumpy areolas and pooling atop her sagging belly in a steady flow of off-white.
Been slowly trying to get back into sum belly art so heres a real bad lookin warm upgugh sorry uffyfhfh
Boy got tube fed vanilla cake batter now he’s 78% cake. I wanna jus lay on his tum like a goddam beanbag he can’t do nothin about it he’s too chonky to even stand >:)
I’m mostly in a writing mood more than a drawing mood so thats why this sketch isnt my best. But i haven’t drawn tums for a bit so gimmie sum slack. My only regret is that i feel he isn’t thicc enough. So that just means i gotta draw him even thicker next time
reminder kids, keep your pretty boys good and full!
do they look hungry? give them a nice big, filling meal and make sure they eat every single bite. you want them happy and satisfied, don’t you? if they get too full, help them finish up their meal by feeding it to them.
they might be a little embarrassed be to so full in front of you, making an absolute hedonist out of themselves, but that’s okay. show them you love them like that by pulling them into your lap as you feed them, squeezing their pretty little ass that’s downright sinful in their tight jeans. run your hands down their sides and to their hips, over their thighs, squeezing all that new, plush skin that has their clothes clinging to them.
when their shirt becomes so tight it starts to roll up, go ahead and take it off for them. you know they’ll just whimper and shove their face into your neck, so embarrassed to be enjoying themselves so much, but you’ll make sure they know you enjoy it. go ahead and give them a kiss before feeding them another bite. or even better, give them a splattering of hickies across their perfect neck while they chug down their favorite drink, make sure you can feel each swallow.
when their belly is nice and perfectly round in their lap, ask them to suck in. watch them blush and whimper and stutter as you run your hands across their round belly, finally landing at the button of their jeans. go ahead and unbutton them, you don’t want your baby being uncomfortable, do you? watch as they involuntarily let their belly out, sighing in relief at the extra space they have.
now that you’ve got their constricting clothing off, see step one again. they deserve to be rewarded for their good behavior, don’t they? you don’t want there to be any room left in that belly, or else they might go hungry, right?
I wanna grab someone’s chubby love handles and be able to feel how fat they’re getting. I wanna pinch their soft gut while they eat and rub their stuffed belly after a day filled with indulgence, telling them how good they look so big like this, all cute and fattened up, and pinching their pudgy sides for emphasis. I wanna make sure they eat lots, watch them get bigger and bigger and strain against their clothing, and poke the little sliver of skin that’s beginning to peak out from a shirt that’s starting to ride up their overfed gut. I wanna squeeze their fat ass while they’re wearing a particularly tight pair of pants, whispering to them about how hot they look when they’re so fat like this, constantly letting them know how much I adore all the weight they’re putting on. I wanna constantly make sure they’re well fed and that all the weight they’ve piled on isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and having them just keep getting fatter and fatter as a result.
you seem hungry, baby. did you not eat lunch today? you know you can’t skip meals like that, love. no no, it’s okay, i’ll take care of you. ill get you something to put in that sweet little tummy of yours. oh baby just listen to it growl, you really should have something. look at you, you’re practically starved. don’t worry, ill get you nice and full in no time, love. ill get you full and then rub your belly afterwards, how’s that sound? next time i’m not gonna be so nice if you come home hungry like this again. you know i don’t like it when you don’t come home with this little belly full for me. i wanna keep you nice and round for me all the time, keep this belly stuffed for me, can you do that? imagine how good you’ll look, your belly all round and heavy on your lap, doesn’t that sound appealing? ill go get you some ice cream while i cook you something, okay? gonna make you nice and chubby for me.
Just,, super gentle palms laying over either full/hungry tummies, just soft enough to move the skin overtop but not really to disrupt anything else inside
Like butterfly kisses, a comforting hand would simply brush on top of an empty/full stomach, and there’s just enough contact for warmth to be shared
Oh and just to make it better, the caretaker decides to make these broad, slow rubs over the other’s entire abdomen, reaching from side to side as their hand gently curves over their concave/convex shape
Ohhhh, and maybe there’s size differences, so the caretakers hand nearly covers their partner’s/friend’s navel and almost holds it without hardly any effort
oh what I’d give to have someone bring me massive amounts of hot greasy food and watches me stuff myself silly while rubbing my exposed belly in a shirt two sizes too small. oh to be teased for what a greedy fatass I am and how much softer and wider all this junk food will make me while coercing me into eating even more. to be called a lazy fatass with all of my rolls on display and my mouth full of fries. to have another pair of hands grabbing and jiggling all of my chub while told I need to lay off the snacking if I don’t wanna get even heavier. to be weighed and measured to see the damage I’m doing to myself while told how much fatter I’ll be a month from now…
