DROP! (Patreon)

Had on one of my little sticky notes that someone requested specifically this, so I wanted to try my hand on it between other pieces! Additionally, since it got me good and thinking, I'm adding in a lil mini fic for those who may enjoy it!

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“Yeah I’m a ‘lil behind on my routine, been kind of a homebody this Spring, but hey I’ll get back in shape soon enough! You know me, I always bounce back in time for beach season.” Ceran had chuckled with lackadaisical reassurance while his friend Anais side-eyed him, looking unconvinced as she peered out over her phone. She’d known that Ceran had been spending a lot of personaltime with certain pampering partners, and while the tall slab of Isklen beef was known to let his padding linger in the cooling months? It seldom loitered this far into June…

...and in such an abundance.

Some friends and their commentary were a little less subtle and a little more impolite.

“EEEEEYY CERAN CONGRATS ON THE BABY! Who’s the father, a Dunkin double dozen??? AHAHAHHAHA!!!” Paulie guffawed boorishly from his creaky lawnchair on the side of the road, his obnoxious ribbing routinely followed by the wheezy laughter of his scruffy cat-man companion, Domino.
“Easy there, Paulie! Don’t you know the elf is a psychic now?”
“Oh yeah, why’s that?”
“A real four-chin teller!”
The two proceeded to boost each other up with their raucous chortling, pounding fist against the aluminum chair handles, all while the elf’s brow knit in mounting agitation. The long sloped lengths of his ears angled backwards like a mightily displeased cat.
“Hey Paulie, you know I took a peek at his belt size the other day? It just said SATURN- paahAHAHA- oh shit he’s coming over— oh fuck he got the bat, SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE!!!”

As maddening as the heckling was from his cheeky peers, it was hard for him to sidestep the facts:

He was getting hefty. Heftier, even.

Ceran left the steamy heat of the late June sun to meet the loving embrace of his central air’ed home.  The circulating coolness of the air conditioner kissed his sweat-beaded skin as he beelined for the bathroom, eager to peel the tapered black tee from his body in exchange for something fresh. As his clawed thumb hooked into the hem of the fabric and began to urge it upwards, his reflection caught his eye. The lower lip of his fairly porked up belly bulged provocatively out from the slightly lifted material. Tentatively he paused, eyes scrutinizing the superfluous swell of his middle as he sucked thoughtfully on the hook of his lip ring. It was a look, for sure. Made him look more his age in way, an older man who has long since put away abs and laid back into the lazier lifestyle of the midaged. His hand moved to smooth out over the ripples of his shirt, watching the way the extremely stretched fabric grew sheer around the dimensional dome. Such a guilty pleasure, purely the guiltiest! To just...let himself become soft! In the shameful privacy of his personal bathroom his large mitt gripped onto the lower portion of his gut, feeling its weight spread across his cupping palm, bouncing it amply where the lurid motion made his doughy shirt-trapped pecs loll vulgarly about atop the gelatinous belly mound. Obscene!!! Big fatty fat elf, skipping the gym and filling himself to the brim with whatever takeout option left a hanger advert on his front door! Heat sprawled across his features as he let the thoughts hang there. Once again his finger hooked into the hem, tugging the compression material higher in one swift motion till-

BWOMP, jigglejiggle!

The way the full mass of his middle spilled outward to freedom, DROPPING down over his waistband, was a spicy arousal like no other! There was so MUCH of it, so much more than he was truly cognizant of, as he so often stuffed himself into no shortage of binding workout apparel that dared to try and diminish the reality of his hedonism. His cock twitched needily below him, but he paid it little mind as he let his hands play over his bloated-up belly like it were a new cock of its own. It was soft, smooth, had so much GIVE that felt ENDLESS as his gripping fingers pressed and pinched, massaging handfuls of plush malleable flab. Feeling it wobble and jiggle was so deliciously rousing to him as it turned every teasing weight-orientated remark throughout the day into foreplay, into unintended dirty-talk as he let it drop from his hands and collide with the bathroom counter below with a fleshly PLAP! Oh what would people say if he let it remain on him? No, not just keep this tender succulent weight that shifted and rolled on his body with every motion as a nonstop reminder of his gluttony— what if he actively made it bigger?

Only one way to find out.