Chapter 2: A Feast of Flesh
Ruby gasped, her vast body shuddering beneath him like a beached whale caught in a rogue wave. Sweat plastered dark strands of hair to her temples and neck. Her chest heaved, lifting the monumental swell of her breasts against his own torso, each labored breath making her entire soft landscape tremble. The scent of sex, exertion, and her expensive rose perfume thickened the air, mingling with the faint vanilla candle burning on the bedside table.
Rook groaned, his own climax ripped from him by the fierce clenching of her inner walls and the sheer, overwhelming pressure of her softness enveloping him. He collapsed onto her, his wiry frame sinking into the yielding warmth of her belly, hips, and breasts. The bed groaned in protest beneath their combined weight, the sturdy frame protesting the constant assault. His face pressed into the damp, fragrant valley between her neck and shoulder, inhaling the heady musk of her sweat and satisfaction.
For long moments, only their ragged breathing filled the plush sanctuary. Moonlight streamed through the window, catching the sheen on Ruby’s pale, flushed skin, highlighting the incredible curves and folds that now defined her. Rook’s hand, seemingly of its own volition, slid down her slick side, tracing the deep dip of her waist before sinking into the thick, soft roll of love handle spilling over the mattress. He squeezed gently, feeling the warm, doughy flesh ooze between his fingers.
"Gods, Ruby," he murmured, his voice rough against her damp skin. "You feel… immense."
A low, throaty chuckle vibrated through her chest beneath him. She shifted slightly, a movement that sent ripples cascading through her belly pressed against his stomach. Her hand, heavy and soft, came to rest possessively on the swell of her lower belly, pushing it outwards against his hip. "Told you," she breathed, her voice thick with smug exhaustion. "Couldn't stop myself. Cook brought up another tray of those honey cakes… clotted cream thick enough to stand a spoon in… sugared plums bursting with juice." She patted the vast expanse possessively. "Kept thinking… ‘Rook’ll love this… love how soft I’m getting… how much more there is to grab.’"
Rook lifted his head slightly, propping himself on an elbow to gaze down at her. Her dark eyes were heavy-lidded, sated, but still held that familiar, savage spark. Sweat glistened in the deep crease beneath her breasts, trickled down the pronounced curve of her side, pooled in the soft folds where her belly met her thick thighs. She looked utterly debauched, utterly magnificent in her decadent sprawl. He let his hand roam upwards, over the trembling slope of her belly, his fingers tracing the faint silvery lines – new stretch marks – that webbed the soft skin near her navel. He pressed down gently, feeling the incredible depth, the yielding warmth.
"Every time," he whispered, awe mixing with lust. "Every damn time I climb through that window…" His hand slid higher, cupping the heavy, cool weight of one breast, thumb brushing the stiff peak. "You’re softer. Wider." He squeezed the plush flesh of her hip, making it wobble. "Thicker. Like you’re trying to fill this whole damn bed."
Ruby’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk. She arched her back slightly, pushing her breasts more firmly into his hand, her belly swelling against his ribs. "Maybe I am," she purred. "Maybe I like seeing your eyes practically pop out of your head." Her own hand slid down her body, fingers sinking deep into the soft shelf of her lower belly. "Feel how heavy it is now? Solid." She pushed down, making the pale flesh ripple outward. "Used to be flat as a board. Now…" She chuckled, a rich sound that made her breasts jiggle. "Now it takes effort just to sit up. But worth it." Her dark eyes locked onto his, challenging. "Worth it to see you drool."
He leaned down, kissing her hard, tasting salt and sweetness on her lips. His hand abandoned her breast and slid back to her hip, fingers digging into the thick cushion of fat. "You’re a spoiled little glutton," he growled against her mouth, the words rough but laced with adoration. "Stuffing yourself silly day and night."
"Mmm," she hummed, biting his lower lip playfully. "Guilty. Couldn’t help it. Saw Cook icing that sponge cake… layers thick with jam and cream… knew you’d want to see me cramming it in." Her hand moved from her belly to pat the vast curve of her hip. "See how these hips spread? How this nightie barely covers my arse anymore?" She gestured vaguely towards the discarded scrap of silk on the floor, hopelessly inadequate for her current dimensions. "All those pastries… melting on my tongue… filling me out… making me soft and wide… just how you like it."
The image ignited him again. He could see her, seated in the tavern kitchen, perhaps, shoveling forkfuls of rich cake into her beautiful mouth, cream smudging her lips, her belly already straining against her dress, knowing, knowing it was for him. His cock, spent moments ago, twitched against the soft heat of her thigh.
"Tell me," he demanded, his voice low and urgent. His hand slid lower, over the immense swell of her belly, down to the soft, dimpled flesh of her inner thigh. He squeezed the thick pillow of fat, feeling its astonishing softness and depth. "Tell me how much you ate. Exactly."
Ruby’s eyes darkened. She loved this game. She shifted, trying to roll slightly towards him, but her own bulk hindered her. She settled for lifting one thick leg, letting it rest heavily over his hip, exposing the glistening heat between her thighs. The movement made her belly slosh heavily against his side.
"Started with breakfast," she breathed, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Porridge drowned in cream and honey… thick enough to stand your spoon in." Her hand drifted to her upper belly, rubbing the soft curve just below her ribs. "Then… mid-morning… couldn’t resist those little almond biscuits Cook had cooling. Ate… oh, maybe a dozen?" She grinned wickedly. "They just vanished. Melted away." Her fingers traced downwards, over the pronounced swell of her lower stomach. "Lunch… oh, lunch was grand. A whole roasted chicken, skin crisp… potatoes swimming in butter… gravy so thick you could slice it." She patted the vast expanse lovingly. "Felt it settle here… warm and heavy." Her hand slid lower still, towards the soft mound covered in dark curls. "Then… the cakes. The honey cakes you love so much." Her eyes locked onto his, gleaming. "Ate four. Five? Lost count. Each one bigger than my fist." She pushed her belly out deliberately, making it wobble. "Felt myself swelling… stretching… getting softer… heavier…" She moaned softly, her hips shifting restlessly. "Could barely breathe… but I kept thinking of you… thinking of your hands… grabbing all this softness…"
Rook couldn't hold back. His hand, still gripping her thick thigh, slid upwards, fingers finding her slick heat once more. She was already wet again, swollen and eager. He groaned, sinking two fingers deep inside her, feeling the velvety warmth clench around him. Her back arched off the mattress, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.
"Yes!" she hissed, her hips lifting to meet his touch. Her hand flew to her belly, pushing down on the immense swell as if trying to contain the sensations rolling through her. "Feel it? Feel how stuffed I am? How tight?" Her breath hitched as he curled his fingers, finding a sensitive spot. "Oh, fuck… Rook… it’s all… so much…"
He watched, mesmerized, as her vast body responded. Her breasts trembled against her chest, her belly quivered and rippled with each thrust of his fingers, her thick thighs tensed and relaxed. The sheer abundance of her, the visible proof of her gluttony laid bare and trembling under his touch, was the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever known.
"Shouldn’t have eaten so much, should you?" he growled, adding a third finger, stretching her. She cried out, her body clenching fiercely. "Made yourself slow… lazy… soft." He leaned down, biting gently at the soft flesh of her shoulder. "My spoiled, greedy Ruby. Look at you… barely able to move… just lying there… letting me play with all this fat…"
"Yours," she gasped, her eyes wide and dark, fixed on his face. "All yours… every soft inch…" Her hand slid down from her belly, joining his between her legs, guiding his fingers deeper, harder. "Fuck me… please… Stuff me fuller…"
He withdrew his fingers, slick and glistening. Positioning himself between her thick, parted thighs, he gripped the immense softness of her hips, fingers sinking deep into the yielding flesh. He guided himself to her entrance, swollen and glistening. The head pressed against her slick heat, nudging against the resistance her own fullness created.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice thick. "Watch me fill you up."
Her dark eyes locked onto his, filled with desperate need and savage pride. He pushed forward, slowly, inexorably, sinking into the incredible tight, wet heat. Her gasp was sharp, her body arching, her belly lifting off the mattress as he sheathed himself fully within her. The sensation was overwhelming – the deep, encompassing pressure, the slick friction, the sheer softness of her vast body yielding beneath him, around him. He groaned, a raw sound torn from his chest.
He began to move. Slow, deep thrusts at first, grinding against her, feeling her soft belly slap rhythmically against his lower abdomen. Her hands flew to his shoulders, blunt nails digging in. Her breath came in ragged pants, each exhale punctuated by a soft, involuntary groan as her body struggled to accommodate his movements amidst its own profound fullness.
"Feel… feel how heavy?" she gasped, her voice strained. Her hips lifted weakly to meet his downward stroke. "Feel… how wide I’ve spread?" Her hand slid down her trembling flank, grabbing a thick handful of the soft fat spilling over her hip bone. "All… all that cake… all that cream…" She squeezed the yielding flesh hard. "Made me… soft… made me jiggle…"
Rook’s thrusts deepened, grew harder, faster. The bed protested violently. He grabbed her thick thigh, hauling it higher, opening her wider, sinking impossibly deeper. The wet slap of their joining filled the room, counterpointed by the rhythmic thump of her belly against him and Ruby’s increasingly breathless cries.
"Yes!" she cried out, her head thrashing back against the pillows. "Fuck… yes! Grab it! Grab my fat!" Her hand slapped clumsily at her wobbling belly. "See? See how it moves? See how… soft…?" Her words dissolved into a high-pitched whine as he angled his hips, hitting a spot that made her entire body convulse. Her inner walls clamped down on him like a velvet vise.
He leaned forward, bracing himself on thick forearms beside her head, his chest pressing heavily into the vast, yielding swell of her upper belly. His face was inches from hers, his breath hot on her skin. "You did this," he rasped, driving into her with relentless force. "Shoveling cake… cramming cream…" Each word punctuated by a hard thrust that made her gasp. "Made yourself… this…" He grabbed a huge handful of her love handle, squeezing the impossibly soft flesh. "This soft… fat… slut…"
The crude word, flung at her amidst the pounding rhythm and the overwhelming sensory overload of her own body, seemed to shatter her. Her eyes flew wide, then squeezed shut. A raw, guttural scream tore from her throat as her climax crashed over her with terrifying force. Her body bucked violently beneath him, her belly quaking, her thighs clamping around his hips, her inner muscles pulsing around his cock in frantic, milking waves. The sheer force of her convulsions, the visible tremor running through her vast, soft form, pushed Rook over the edge instantly. He roared, burying himself to the hilt as his own release ripped through him, hot and blinding, lost in the engulfing, trembling softness of her. He collapsed onto her, his face pressed into the sweat-slicked valley between her neck and shoulder, gasping, feeling the frantic hammering of her heart against his chest, the aftershocks still trembling through her immense, beautiful, overstuffed body. The air hung thick with the scent of sex, sweat, vanilla, and the undeniable musk of pure, decadent indulgence.
Rook lay slumped atop Ruby’s monumental softness, his breath ragged against the damp, fragrant skin of her neck. The frantic drumming of her heart beneath his cheek gradually slowed, echoing the subsiding tremors still occasionally rippling through her vast belly pressed against his ribs. Her heavy arm lay draped possessively over his back, fingers idly tracing the knobs of his spine, a stark contrast to the yielding landscape beneath him.
He shifted slightly, the movement causing Ruby’s belly to slosh softly against his hipbone. A low, contented sigh escaped her lips, puffing warm air against his temple. Her eyes remained closed, lashes dark smudges against her flushed cheeks, a picture of sated exhaustion amidst the wreckage of silk sheets. The scent of their exertion mingled stubbornly with vanilla and rose, thick and primal in the warm room.
His gaze drifted past her shoulder, catching the glint of moonlight on porcelain. There, on the sturdy oak nightstand pushed close to the groaning bed, sat the source of her earlier boasting: a tray laden with the remnants of honey cakes. Three remained, each larger than his fist, glistening under their thick, amber glaze, studded with plump raisins and oozing rivulets of clotted cream onto the plate.
Lust, sharp and insistent, pierced his lingering haze. It wasn't just the sex, the incredible feel of her. It was the source. The sheer, visible proof of her indulgence laid out beside them. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, the sudden absence of his weight making Ruby’s belly rise and fall like a soft, pale hillock. Her eyes fluttered open, dark pools reflecting the candlelight and his own hunger.
"Told you," she murmured, her voice thick and lazy, a satisfied smirk playing on her swollen lips. She followed his gaze to the cakes. "Couldn't leave 'em be. Knew you’d want to see… taste…" Her hand slid slowly, possessively, over the immense swell of her lower belly, fingers sinking deep into the yielding flesh above her mound. "Feel how warm it all is inside? Still digesting…"
Rook didn't speak. He reached across her vastness, his lean arm straining, and snagged the edge of the tray, dragging it clattering onto the mattress beside her hip. The scent of honey, warm spices, and rich cream bloomed instantly, cutting through the musk of sex. He grabbed one cake, its sticky glaze clinging to his fingers. It felt heavy, dense, promising.
He shifted his weight, kneeling between her thick, parted thighs. Her dark curls glistened, still slick. He guided himself back to her entrance, still swollen and flushed, nudging against the resistance offered by her own profound fullness. Her breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping as he pushed slowly, inexorably, back inside her tight, wet heat. She groaned, her head tipping back, her belly lifting slightly off the mattress as he seated himself fully.
"Gods…" she breathed, her hips shifting weakly. "Still… still so stuffed…"
"Open," Rook commanded, his voice rough. He held the cake near her lips. Her dark eyes, wide and fixed on his, flickered with understanding and a spark of savage delight. She parted her lips obediently, revealing the pink inside.
He pushed the cake against her mouth. She took a large bite, her teeth sinking through the yielding sponge, cream smearing instantly across her lower lip and chin. He watched, mesmerized, as her jaw worked, cheeks bulging slightly. A soft, involuntary moan vibrated against him as she swallowed the first rich mouthful. He pushed the cake forward again, forcing another bite past her lips, cream oozing onto her chin and dripping onto the swell of her upper chest.
He began to move. Slow, deliberate thrusts, grinding deep. Each inward push coincided with him forcing another portion of cake into her mouth. Her chewing became frantic, messy. Crumbs scattered across her cheek and onto the pillow. Cream smeared her chin, her neck, glistening in the candlelight. Her eyes watered slightly, overwhelmed by the dual sensations – the relentless fullness below, the forced gluttony above.
"Mmmph… Rook…" she managed around a mouthful, her voice thick and muffled. Her hand fluttered weakly towards her belly, then dropped. "Too… much…"
He ignored her half-hearted protest. His free hand slid up her slick side, tracing the deep curve of her waist before sinking into the thick roll cascading over her hipbone. He squeezed hard, feeling the warm, doughy flesh yield and wobble violently with his thrusts. "Swallow," he growled, pushing the cake remnants against her lips. "Take it all. You wanted it. You craved it."
She choked slightly, gulping down the sticky mass. He shoved the last sticky corner into her mouth, his fingers slick with glaze and cream. He wiped them deliberately across her collarbone, then lower, smearing the sweetness onto the heavy, cool swell of her breast. Her nipple tightened instantly against the sticky mess.
His thrusts deepened, grew harder, faster. The wet slap of their joining filled the room, punctuated by Ruby’s ragged breaths and muffled whimpers as she struggled to breathe around the lingering sensation of cake in her throat. His hand roamed her body – kneading the immense softness of her hip, tracing the silvery stretch marks webbing her lower belly, thumbing her sticky nipple, then sliding back down to grip the thick cushion of her thigh.
"Look at you," he rasped, driving into her. "Cream on your tits… cake in your belly… my cock buried in your greedy cunt." He grabbed another cake from the tray. "You’re nothing but a spoiled, overstuffed feast." He broke off a chunk, sticky glaze stringing between his fingers. "Open wide, Ruby."
Her eyes, dark and desperate, locked onto his. She opened her mouth, panting. He shoved the piece in. She chewed frantically, cream oozing from the corners of her lips. He thrust harder, the force making her entire body jiggle – breasts trembling, belly sloshing audibly, love handles wobbling violently. He pinched a thick fold of her side fat, rolling it between his fingers, feeling the incredible depth and softness.
"Feel it?" he demanded, feeding her another chunk, watching her throat work as she swallowed. "Feel how much cake is packed in here?" He slapped her belly hard with his sticky palm. The impact echoed, a deep, fleshy thump that sent ripples cascading across its vast surface. She cried out, her body clenching fiercely around him. "Made yourself soft…" He shoved more cake. "...heavy..." Another thrust, deeper. "...immense." He squeezed her thigh, fingers sinking into the soft dimpled flesh. "All that greed… wobbling… jiggling…"
He broke the last cake in half. One piece he crammed into her mouth, silencing her gasps. The other he crushed against the immense swell of her lower belly, grinding the sticky crumbs and cream into her skin, marking her. Ruby’s eyes rolled back, her body arching off the bed as much as its bulk allowed. A guttural, choked scream tore from her cream-smeared lips as her climax detonated, triggered by the crude violation, the overwhelming fullness, the relentless pounding. Her inner walls clamped down on him like a velvet fist, milking him instantly. He roared, burying himself to the hilt as his own release ripped through him, lost in the engulfing, trembling, sticky-sweet softness of her. His vision blurred, the only sensations the violent clenching deep within her, the frantic hammering of her heart against his chest, and the slick, sugary mess coating his hand where it gripped her vast, quaking hip. Her breath came in desperate, whistling gasps, her body shuddering beneath him like a beached leviathan caught in a final, catastrophic wave. The air thickened further, saturated now with sex, sweat, vanilla, rose, honey, cream, and the raw, undeniable scent of utter, devoured excess. Her hand, trembling, found his sticky one on her hip, her blunt nails digging in weakly as the aftershocks continued to ripple through her monumental, conquered form.