I'm such a sucker for that pensive little smile of hers. It's always a treat.
She does it almost every time I give her something to eat, just when the meal starts to get a little too big. Her tummy just a little too full. As often as that has grown to be these days.
The blush. The slight bit of reticence. It's immediately clear what her thoughts are in that very moment.It's the cliche notion of "Fuck! I really shouldn't," recognizing just how much we're overdoing it. Trying to keep in mind what every single one of these calories have done to her. Continue doing to her. The clothing its ripped. The furniture its splintered.
And yet despite how I always show her just how much I truly love her body, her progress, & her hedonistic nature, I get the feeling that deep down, there's maybe a small part of that might still feel a little embarrassed by how unconventional all this is. About the "eating machine" we've turned her into over time.
Her words. I insist she's much more like a "goddess." Often. Because it’s just the truth.
And yet still, in real time, there's something so hot about watching her have all these concerns, running through her head, & still, slowly, get overwhelmed by her unending appetite, & her almost lizard-brained, gluttonous desire to never stop indulging.
Some times, the more stuffed she is, she'll even bite her plump lip. Or look away. Have her eyes dart from side to side with unnecessary, self-imposed anxiety. All as she's weighing the pros & cons of continuing.
Which, inevitably, is what she almost always resigns herself to doing anyway.
After all, at this point? Are a few extra calories really going to make that much of a difference?
And right there I am, always just thrilled to oblige her with more.
A little pushy on my part? Maybe. But I've never been forceful with her. Frankly don't think I even have it in me to be honest.
She can, & has, in the past, told me when enough is truly enough. And we'll happily call it a night. Or I'll gently caress her belly to help things digest, as drifts to sleep it off for a little nap. Ultimately she's always called the shots like that.
But her tapping out like that? That was all about a couple hundred pounds ago. She used to do it all the time.
Now? It’s more like she can never get enough. We're usually more likely to run out of food entirely before she ever wants to stop.
Maybe that's another reason she blushes. Maybe she's just a little afraid to own up to just how greedy she can be. How gluttonous, & insatiable she is. I happen to think that's something she ought take a bit of pride in. But maybe the lack of willpower embarrasses her a little.
Or maybe it's because she knows, deep down, that every bite she takes is just one more step away from what's considered "normal." Another small, little acceptance that she's only growing further away from the traditional. The conventional.
That instead, that adorable little blush of hers? Is just another tiny admission to the way her life has become an almost constant cycle of consumption. Of decadence. Of indulgence.
All as I throw my arms around her, think about the used to meet, & slowly start to feel my body sink into hers. She’s just become so soft, so plush, so absolutely squeezable. All in the best ways.
And while part of her is just a little too shy to come right out & say just how much she absolutely loves it too, she recognizes that the simple affirmation itself ends up doing all the speaking for her, & takes another bite.
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Just a quick little one-sitting vignette. Based on an expression I saw my partner make after I made a convincing argument to let loose & indulge a little. All with a heaping helping of wishful thinking.
I’m lining up some things to post in the coming weeks, but also down the line in the coming months too. I’m sorry things have been a little light around here. I have been working, but once again have little to actually show for it. I think you’re all going to like what’s coming.