Meringue in Bed (Patreon)

Someone asked ages ago if I would ever revisit the characters from the Denial piece from back in 2021, and it definitely took me a minute to get to it, but I was so happy to revisit their dynamic!

***

The measuring tape was cool against the bare skin of his stomach.

“My goodness, you’ve been very good lately, haven’t you?” she said as she measured him, resting on her knees in front of him as he did his best to stand straight. “You’ve put on a whole inch since last month.” She leaned forward and kissed his belly, leaving the mark of her red lipstick behind.

She measured other parts of him, extra handsy as she did. Her hands were comforting and warm, grazing along his inner thighs and making him melt. She left kisses behind there, too, knowing how much he liked to see the print of her lipstick on him.

She stood and kissed one of his cheeks. “You’re looking more like a cherub every day,” she purred as she took a slow squeeze of his belly. She made him feel so fat and soft. She measured his upper arms, which had just started to get plump enough that you could pinch the little layer of fat on them.

She measured his chest last. It was the part of himself he was shyest about. Before he’d met her, he’d been so skinny you could almost see his ribs. He’d always wanted a belly, but hadn’t really considered that his chest would start storing fat, too. She liked to tease him, telling him one day he’d have tits bigger than hers. That always made him blush. These days, there was only a hint of softness there, but he got so wet imagining what it would feel like to have her grab handfuls of him someday. When she was done measuring, she kissed him just above his right nipple, her lips hot as a brand, his skin lighting up at her touch.

She wrote down the measurements in the journal where she tracked his progress. “You definitely deserve your reward,” she said. “Go get comfy in bed and I’ll bring it to you.”

He did as she asked, luxuriating in the comfort of their bed, placing himself right in the middle with plenty of pillows behind him for support. Even empty, his belly stuck out in front of him, beginning to hang down. His stomach grumbled a little. She hadn’t fed him breakfast yet, wanting to make sure her measurements were accurate, and he felt a twinge of hunger in his stomach. He rubbed his belly to soothe it, fingers sinking in deeper than he’d expected. She was making him so soft.

Minutes later, she came back into the bedroom with a gorgeous homemade lemon meringue pie and a fork. He sat up a little straighter, mouth watering. It was his favorite, and she only ever made it for special occasions. She laughed at him as she straddled his waist on the bed. “I love seeing that greedy gleam in your eye.” The meringue was inches thick, and she dug into it with the fork, popping it into his mouth. It melted into nothing on his tongue, only whetting his appetite. He opened his mouth wide for another bite, this time including custardy lemon filling and sweet, buttery, lemony crust. He moaned and she ground her hips against him. “Did I do good?” she asked.

“I think this is the best one you’ve ever made,” he sighed. No wonder he was fattening up. He knew he would eat the whole pie and still be begging for more.

“You say that every time!” She fed him another bite, this one almost too big for him to fit in his mouth. The tartness of the filling and the sweetness of the meringue mingled on his tongue. His cheeks were puffed out a little. He wondered where this bite would go–to his thighs? His chubby cheeks? Right to the plush little belly that never seemed to stop growing?

He made another noise of pleasure as she fed him another bite, and another. Her eyes started to cloud over with lust. He could feel how badly she wanted him, even though both their underwear. Halfway through the pie, she couldn’t contain herself. She set the pie aside for a moment–just long enough to slide his cock out of the opening in his boxers and shove her own panties to the side, her eyes clouded with lust as she guided him inside her. He loved watching her face when she got this worked up, heat creeping into her cheeks, pupils blown wide. He loved that all he had to do to make her lose control was stuff his face. For all the power she held in their relationship, he could still undo her.

She rocked there for a moment, eyes fluttering closed, pulsing around him. When she could focus again, she picked up the pie and started feeding him faster, riding him to a rhythm that kept him chewing and swallowing almost mindlessly. More and more of the pie disappeared, until finally she was scraping the last bite out of the bottom of the tin with her finger and popping it into his mouth, both of them reveling in the feeling of him licking every last calorie from her skin.

He should’ve felt too full for him to ride him like she did once she had both hands free to grab the headboard. But she kept leaning down to kiss him, whispering about what a greedy, plump little thing he’d become, about how much bigger she was going to make him, and the ache of his full tummy fell to the wayside. By the time she came, with him following close behind, he was so addled by the fantasies she’d been weaving that he felt like he was starving. Like he needed to gain a hundred pounds in the next month so there would be more of him for her to grab and kiss and fuck.

She lay next to him after they finished, lazily rubbing his belly. He was breathless, belly a hard curve after gorging on an entire pie by himself. Still, he found himself asking, “Is breakfast ready?”

Her enormous grin promised it was.