DESCRIPTION
My hands wander down my body. Over swollen landscape. Across lardaceous pastures. Hills and hills and hills which used to be valleys. A quiver through my trembling dough, by a hand that knocks my dangling stomach. Bounces against my legs. The weight of it pulls, and pulls a gasp. My spine arches, leaning forward, encouraging the drop lower. Further down my fat thighs. I think of nothing but soft swelling, gentle straining, secret blushing. And eat. And eat. And eat for you, baby.