"Give In" (Patreon)

“Give in.” She purrs once again, her eyes deviously flaring with a playful insistence.

While she’s in close, with her one arm wrapped around me, the cupcake she’s holding hovers perilously closer to my mouth. And in this moment, there’s very little I can do about it. Something she is taking full advantage of. All I really can do is stare at it.

Chocolate, with a creamy, whipped, marshmallow frosting. And huge. More the size of a muffin.

“C’mon” she goads as she catches my glance lingering on it a little too long. “Do it for me.” This certainly isn’t the first time she’s insisted I go against my better judgment, as the chub I’ve put on since the start of our relationship can certainly attest to. Hell, this isn’t even the first time she’s tried to tempt me further this evening.

“You- can’t be serious,” I finally manage. I wanted it to come off as firm. Much more assertive sounding, like I’m trying to be stern. Trying to put my foot down. For once. Instead, it comes out as more of a passive moan than I like, miserably exasperated & straining. The problem is I’m just far too full to be as truly serious as I’d like. Stuffed to my eyeballs with pasta, sausage, three quarters of a loaf of garlic bread, a hearty salad, two & a half glasses of wine, & the three cupcakes prior.

Still, the last three tell me just how goddamn delectable that cupcake is, as sways back & forth in front of me, gliding along a soft figure-eight. I can even smell the crumbly oreo dust she sprinkled on them. A giggle leaves her.
“I can. And am serious,” her insistence only growing stronger. The confidence she’s exuding makes it seem like she thinks she already has me on the hook. Probably because of my many moments of weakness in the past. “After all,” She continues, “I spent all day making them just for you! Oreo! Your favorite.”

“I’ve already had three,” I whine in protest, tenderly rubbing my engorged tummy. She pushes her lower lip out into a pout, changing tact to guilt me now.

“But I made a whole dozen o’em. With love!” With the fingers of her free hand, she plays with my hair, in the way she knows drives me crazy.

“Sorry,” I try to push back, actively craning my neck to move away from the cupcake & hair teasing. “I’ve hit my limit.” I realize only a second later I really shouldn’t have moved so recklessly in my current condition. But as if to back me up in my defense, a loud rumbling gurgle emanates from my belly. I have little choice but to wince & exhale along with it.

“Oh crybaby!” She sits up, frustrated. “Quit faking!” She sounds mad, but I can tell by the glimmer in her eye that she still thinks this is all part of the foreplay.

“I- can’t-” I try insisting. It’s still not as strong as I’d like, but its getting there. The cupcake catches my eye again, but I fight the urge to stare.

On some level, I know I could give in. Pretty easily, in fact. That’s how great of a baker she is. Too good. I could just let all inhibitions go & just enjoy bite after bite of another wondrous, sweet, creamy… But on another, I know I really shouldn’t!

It’s abundantly clear what her intentions are & what it is she’s trying to do to me, just by how successful she’s already been at it. All that hard effort at the gym, smothered & buried with layers & layers of carb-induced… fluff. Our every meal together. And it’s completely on me for having been oblivious to her ploys at first. But now? Ever since I’ve moved in with her, I can never seem to help myself. My willpower’s completely out the window. And while I may have come to a sort of uneasy acceptance of her constantly overindulging me, the sheer rate at which the effect of that overindulgence has been showing up on me? It’s starting to set off alarm bells.

‘Give in?’ I know she likes doing this. Playing like this. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m putting my foot down. I’m going to tell her ‘No,’ & I mean it. To set boundaries & more importantly? For myself? To prove that as far as food is involved, I still can tell her no, goddammi-

“Boop!” She laughs, sending me careening back to reality as something’s suddenly too close to my face.

“Ech!” I jerk away, feeling a strange, soft coolness on my nose. I see a crumble of oreo fall away. And immediately realize what it is that she’s done. “What the hell?!” I react more than ask, now wearing some of the whipped marshmallow cream. She had daintily pushed it to my nose.

“Booped you.” She laughs. As full as I am, I can only muster a flop my hand at first. It’s a little too much effort in my stuffed, lazy state to even just raise my arm to wipe it away. My attempts to hit it with my tongue fall just short.

“Why would you- do that?” I try to huff, frustrated. Before I can move my hand for real, she kneels closer on the couch next to me.

“There there,” she chortles, as she wipes it away with the two fingers of her free hand with a few simple strokes. It feels like she got it all, but I have no way of knowing. “You can be such a messy eater, you know that?” She chides before then presenting me with those two fingers. “Go ahead.” I furrow my brow, once again in protest. But her eyes only grow wilder. I feebly extend my tongue & once the sweetness hits it, instinct takes over. I lurch forward from my shoulders, trying to prevent my stomach the hassle of moving.

The taste drives me wild & I involuntarily let out a moan I really didn’t want to let out. One that makes her giggle more. I feel ready to explode, & yet it’s just so amazing, I suck her fingers clean & she pulls them away. “See? That’s not so bad.” I whimper, trying to let the sugary cream just sit on my tongue. Swallowing might do me in. But oh fuck that heavenly taste! I’m interrupted by a gasp & look to her.

“But what’s this though?” She feigns shock, pointing to an almost too perfect impression of my nose in the cupcake’s frosted top. “I mean, you touched it! That means its yours now! You just gotta!” I let out something of a whimper as she floats it again closer to my face slowly. As if she’s playing chicken with me, & the nearer it gets, the more it takes every iota of my being to fight what I want to do. I realize I’m wincing. I can’t! I shouldn’t! I… do.

I finally give in.

Just as she had been coaxing me to from the start. One big bite, followed by a few obedient smaller ones as she once again laughs at my willpower. Or lack thereof.

I failed, but do what I can to drown that out & find solace in her baking skills. It’s so moist, & just the perfect level of density. I finally swallow & my body hates me for it, but I don’t care. The frosting was spectacular but really, the combo of the chocolate cake seals the deal so nicely, & the oreo sprinklings over top? I moan like a happy pig. God I’m such a pig. She’s turning me into such a fucking hog & there doesn’t seem like there’s a goddamn thing I can do about it.

“That’s it! That’s right.” She cheers me on softly.

One of these days, I’m really going to have to put my foot down when it comes to this! This is not sustainable, not without me ballooning up to the size of a house. One of these days. For sure. Just not… tonight. I swallow more as I get down to the last bite in her fingers. My body is going to really hate me for this, I just know it. But I’ll just have to deal with that later. Not now. Not while, I have this taste to consume myself with. So good.

Part of me wants more, but no way! This. This was pushing it already.

That’s when I see her other hand reaching for the next one.

“Four down,” She purrs. “Eight to go.”