biggulp3515-blog

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If you’re a woman with belly is it easy to tell when someone into it? Asking a fat admirer with wandering eyes, who thinks he is discreet.

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Do you think “lap kitten” is a better term for large belly extending past their knees or would it be a better fit for a large fupa? Either way I think it sounds really hot and would pet both 🤤

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I love this video but as usual it would be soooo much sexier if it was more degrading! I would have made that fucking cow ask me for forgiveness for becoming so fucking fat 😈

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Big Problem

My favorite part of my morning with my wife is watching her sink into her chair at our dining room table after her first sip of coffee. I love how cute and innocent her sigh of relief is knowing that a new day has started and she can leave yesterday’s stresses behind. I tap our wooden dining table sounding a thud of my palm and my wedding band. I follow with a question, “What do you want to eat?” She looks up to me find that my eyes are tracing her already full figure. She inquisitively raises her brow and says sheepishly, “I don’t know.”. Followed by quick reply “knock it off I see what you’re doing” before matter of factly snapping a brisk bite of a freshly dunked Biscoff cookie. I turn back to the kitchen knowing I’m going to make us a heavy and hearty breakfast. I come back and place two bowls in front of her. A savory stir fry in one and a ‘healthy’ serving of yogurt fresh berries and granola clusters with a drizzle of honey. I sit down adjacent to her and take a much needed sip of coffee. She quickly rises from her chair and says that she can’t eat without silverware. She thuds her heavy-footed self back to the kitchen. I watch on as I can faintly see her fat body shift side to side beneath her nightgown. Once back at the table she can tell that I’m making a very diligent effort to not watch her take bite after bite. Suppressing the urge to gaze at her emptying plate by doom scrolling the top news headlines. As we sit resting and digesting taking our final sips of now cooled coffee I can’t help myself but to get lost in the recent snap shots my gaze took earlier as her wide body moved back and forth. I thought to myself if only I could see… If only I could feel what was underneath that thin nighty. She lets out a small belch and excuses herself to the bedroom. Is this my queue? Is this a subtle invitation that I should follow. My wife promptly returns before I can I act on my suspicions. She walks out of our bedroom in an outfit she knew would turn my head and attention away from my phone. A tried and true black crop top just short enough to expose the lowest part of her swaying breasts and a pair of unbuttoned denim shorts that are from 2 years and 75 pounds ago exposing her now well fed plump belly. She casually walks over to the dinning room and begins clearing the table from our morning breakfast. A nonchalant show-stopper. Her doughy belly glistening in the morning rays. Slowly she works over the table dragging and plopping her overflow onto the table as her chunky round arms stretch to grab our coffee mugs. She continues to tidy up the kitchen taking purposefully hard steps to initiate hypnotic tidal waves of rippling fat. She knows this will make light work of any thought in my head that doesn’t involve burying my hands and face into her pillowy flab. She starts over to me shaking the earth with her thunderous thighs. Upon her approach using her soft extended hands lifts my jaw and stare from her protruding gut back up to her beautiful brown eyes. I tell her, “She is bad for me and she knows it. “She playfully replies, “Mhm and what else?” I tell her she is a problem. She runs her fingers up my cheeks and intoxicatingly runs her fingers through my long hair pulling into a ponytail in one hand while the other finds it’s way around my neck before forcefully slamming my ear to her lips and whispers, “Your big problem” finally shoving my face into her luscious mounds lard.

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This but you’re such a fat doughy girl you won’t budge. Once I tire from pushing into your immense flab and fall to the floor you plop on down. You laugh as I admire how powerful you must be to put the blubber into motion 🤤🥵

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Converting kg to lbs

As a Registered Nurse, most medication dosing is done in mcg/kg/min or mg/kg/hr or at least in the population that I work. I am constantly converting kilograms to pounds and pounds to kilograms. Recently, on Instagram the feeders and voluptuous bellies that frequent my explore page have changed to once-fat women shedding the calories, losing inches off their frame, and before and after photos illustrating their disappearing guts and flabby thighs. I am probably not the only one who is obsessed with calculating how much they weighed in before they dropped the heft. I have noticed that converting weight from kg to lbs. is ecstasy for me. Soon as I see a weight listed greater than 120 kg I get excited. I quickly whip out my phone calculator. 1 kg is equal to 2.2 lbs. She’s starting to get big I’m thinking to myself. 120x2.2= 264 lbs. I wonder how much bigger they will get. Hopefully 227.27 kg or 500 lbs.

Side note: College Football and the NFL are now back in full swing and the announcers love saying that someone is 300 pounder but it’s like a 6’6 muscular lineman. I’m always thinking to myself that I have seen plenty of 5’2 300 pounders. It puts it all into perspective how large some of you babes really are.

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Final Resting Place

I have been spending an immense amount of time thinking about making you larger and what that would look like. I’ve had thoughts about making you so fat that restaurant booths, rollercoasters, and planes can no longer accommodate you. I am making you into an absolute behemoth of a woman with loads upon loads of soft blubber draping your once-small frame. I think about the shadow you cast and how lucky I am to be beneath you. You hover above slowly swaying hundreds of pounds of fat knowing you're putting me into a trance.  Of course, I think about your massive ass plopping down on my chest as I become your sturdy seat slowly flattening into the floorboards. I attempt to lift one of your feet so I can feel the immense weight and power you behold. You chuckle and continue to sway knowing that you’ve got me right where you want. I am completely lost in lust kissing and biting your thunderous strong calves. I can’t begin to fathom how tired they must feel to support such a gluttonous goddess. I sit up and bite your inner thigh again and again. I grab your flabby gut in an attempt to drag you down so I can finally become your final resting place. I bite again maybe too hard for your liking and before I know it, I can feel the earth pressing back against my bones. I am enveloped from head to toe in your mountainous lard. You begin pondering if you should ever get up or if you can even get up. You can hear my muffled attempts to scream to get off, but you can feel that my cock is still rock hard and throbbing beneath the weight of your gut, and why would you want to ruin this. Slowly you slide your hand beneath the warm soft folds of your apron to find what is rightfully yours. My cock is now in your hand. You squeeze it firmly twice as a subtle nod and confirmation that you are going to drain me one last time. My body stops resisting knowing its fate and I prepare to release before I inevitably succumb to the grasp of my queen.  

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Too Big for a Boat

As a feeder, I often think about how large of a woman I could make you.  I think about the structural integrity items and when you will surpass their weight limit. The thought of you easily exceeding the capacity of any chair, ladder, or bicycle is intoxicating. Seeing your powerful mounds of blubber buckle and bend any frame put into your path will have me begging to be next. I recently started looking at purchasing a boat for the two of us so we can enjoy the coastal estuaries and I can watch your gut glisten in the sun. I began noticing that boat manufacturers drill placards on the helm that say, “2 PERSONS OR 450 LBS” and “4 PERSONS OR 700 LBS”. Now all I can dream about is buying you any number of these 17-foot skiffs and watching you sink them one by one beneath your heavy foot. Before you step aboard all the placards will need to be changed to “1 PERSON OR 700 LBS” or “1 GLUTTON OR 700 LBS”.

This fantasy has me drooling. Maybe one of you can help me come up with a clever boat name that is worthy of a fat queen.