I love fat so much. There’s just so much to grab onto and sink your lips into. Soft bellies that jiggle at the slightest touch, squishy love handles lined with stretch marks, thick thighs covered in cellulite, soft handfuls of fat that overflow between your fingers. Words can’t describe how much I fucking love fat.
Blame me for your weight gain. I did this to you. I made you eat everything, every day, nonstop. Whisper in my ear how it’s my fault for turning you into an obese, blubbery, doughy fat ass. Tell me that my encouragement is the reason for your extra 30, 40, 50 pounds. Blame me for your obesity. Blame me for your massive thighs and pillowy arms. Blame me for 3XL shirts that will be snug in about a month. Blame me for soft fat that bounces at the slightest touch and sits between your huge thighs. Blame me for your breathlessness and insatiable appetite
Chris Crocker is still packing it on. He ballooned in 2016, and then slimmed down a tad by January 2017 (first two photos). It looks like he couldn’t keep that appetite suppressed for long because the belly is back and bigger than ever. Now (April 2017) he seems to be embracing the pig lifestyle and shamelessly flaunting his overstuffed form in public. Let’s see where it grows from here.
Come here. Let me pour something calorie-laden down your throat. Let me take advantage of your ravenous, insatiable appetite. Let me fuck you while stuffing your fat face. Let me feel your fat jiggle and ripple beneath me. Let me push you down into the bed while your fat pins you down. Let me take advantage of your obese, growing body.