Buttery Bread

I felt dizzy when I woke up and suppressed an airy hiccup with a hand to my breast. A small moan followed, creaking and quiet, before I rolled onto my other side. My belly puddled onto the mattress between us.

“Hi,” I said.  A full-body stretch turned the word into a long yawn before I returned to my small, doughy shape like elastic. I felt hungry. Just below my ribs. “What?” He just laid there, smiling at me like a stupid person.

“Nothing.” He leaned in and we kissed. Eyes roved southward, and his hands followed to continue the massage I’d demanded of him. My skin had absorbed the oils and become smooth and supple for it. “You snored all night.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do,” he said, grinning. “Only after prey. You never snore on human food.”

I smirked. “People are human food.”

“Really?” Fingers worked into the plump flesh aggressively. They wouldn’t reach deep enough to massage the muscles otherwise. “Sorry to say your cargo doesn’t feel very human anymore.”

“Mush,” I breathed.

“Sludge for my chubby teddy bear.” He brought up a small belch with his attention and chased it to my lips. “You burp in your sleep too.”

“I’d have tummy aches otherwise.” I curled inwards for a full-body hug that squelched my fragile gut between us. “She was big. You outdid yourself.”

A hand snaked around my hip, cupping my bum and pulling me close with a squidge. My knickers felt very tight now. I hadn’t had the heart to tell him I’d already outgrown the ones he bought me for my birthday. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to relieve yourself soon.”

I shook my head, a small movement on the pillow. “I’m enjoying this fullness. I’m also a little sore still… you went kinda feral.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Craning up, I kissed him on the chin. “I liked it. We should roleplay more often.”

“Is that what that was? I’m sure you threatened to eat my grandmother at one point.”

I frowned, “Yeah, like the wolf?” A heavy sigh. “I was very drunk, it’s a blur. I remember lying there with my eyes closed wondering if you’d even complain if it started swallowing you.”

He laughed while stroking a few strands of hair behind my ear, straining to look me in the eyes. “What?”

“You’re so polite and awkward. It’s cute. Like I can imagine you getting dragged slowly into my nasty, shit-stuffed arsehole and just being like ‘oh, heavens, excuse me’.” I snorted when I laughed. I don’t think he found my impression quite as hilarious as I did, but he smiled wide enough to let me know I hadn’t been totally insulting.

Silence for a moment, and then he scooped me up on top of him, where I straddled his groin and my fat belly wobbled generously between us. “You know, I can always tell when you’re horny.”

“Can not.”

“Because all of a sudden you treat yourself like the grossest woman in the room. Jokes on you, because I happen to enjoy my piggy’s shitty back passage.”

“Real talk, I am the grossest woman in the room.” I gasped. A clench of my thighs hit me in just the right place, and I repeated over and over. “Unless you have someone stored under the bed. Breakfast? Do you have breakfast under the bed for me?” I felt him stiffening, poking against my lower guts as he tried futilely to angle against the thin wet strip of fabric skinning over my vulva.

And then he heaved me back onto my side of the bed, planting a kiss on my navel before covering me back over with the duvet. “Have to make breakfast I’m afraid.”

“Bacon sandwich. Maybe sausages too.”

“Don’t you think your guts have enough meat to be processing? I was going to get you a bowl of cereal.” He managed to dodge my teddy, ducking down to grab a shirt as she sailed exactly where his head had been. The following pillow was apparently too wide a projectile.

“Cereal makes me sad. Warmth and meat and buttery bread.”

He huffed. “Warmth and meat and buttery bread.”

“And the postwoman.”

He threw the pillow back at me and, being as sleepy and well-fed as I was, there was no hope of me evading such an assault.

“Ivy’s lovely, if you want to eat her you can go hunt her yourself.”

I scowled and shuffled up on my bum, but that’s about as far as I got. The bed was just too snuggly. “She wins this round.”

I lay there, mouth watering as I listened to him work on my feast in the kitchen. He would stuff me full and wipe my lips, kiss me when I burped and hand me my tea to wash it all down with. My large belly and I had become so used to the pampering that I couldn’t imagine ever going without. I massaged it diligently, feeling as digested bones disintegrated further on in my intestinal tract, and as air pushed its way along towards the bum it would squeak out of.

“When did we get so soft?” I mused. My belly purred like a cat. Maybe I was a cat. In another time, in another life. I didn’t hate it; not one bit.