If you’d thought the distance between you and Dave had sucked before, it was even worse now. The budding romance you shared with him made you ache to be home from college again. To be in his big, husky arms nestled against his plush chest. Spring break couldn't come soon enough, you thought impatiently. Alas, it was still February, with a whole month to go. It was Valentine's Day, to be exact, and you two had plans.
“What about your roommate?” Dave asked over your Skype call, drumming his hands delicately on the package in his lap. You had one too, of course; just because you were states away from each other didn't mean you couldn't exchange gifts, or have a little fun. You'd both sent them earlier that month, just to be sure they got there on time, and promised not to open them until tonight. Yours had been sitting in the back corner of your closet, out of sight out of mind until it was time.
“She’s staying with her girlfriend tonight,” you soothed, and he seemed to relax a bit at that. “I promise I have the place to myself.”
“Rad,” he said with a little smile, then held up his package a bit to make his point clear. “You first.”
You could abide by that, you supposed, even if you were dying to watch him open his own gifts.”I thought the rule was ladies first. After all, you’re boobs are probably as big as mine,” you teased, relishing the red that hit his full cheeks as he stuttered out a halfhearted retort. Then you were slicing the tape off the top of your package.
Inside the plain shipping box were two more boxes, one about the size of a small laptop, the other only about four inches wide and four long. Each were pink with a little white ribbon on top. “Open the big one first,” he instructed, and you could just pick up in the note of excitement in his voice.
You did, tugging the lid of the box off and unfolding the bright tissue paper inside. It was a cute lingerie set, complete with a bra, panties, and stockings. It was definitely nicer than anything you owned, and you flushed at the thought of wearing it for him.
“I hope it fits,” he chuckled a little sheepishly. “I had to give my best guess... I just knew that if I straight up asked for your cup size you'd know what I was up to.”
“I'm sure it'll be great,” you hummed in approval. Then you remembered the smaller box. You pulled it out and opened it. There was no tissue paper, just a small, sleek vibrator cozied up in styrofoam. When you looked back up to the screen, your cheeks warm, you noticed he was holding up a small remote.
“It works long distance,” he said, sounding pleased with himself.
You smirked, biting your lip. This night really was going to be fun. “Now you,” you insisted, your stomach fluttering and your heart rate kicking up a notch.
He did as he was asked, tearing the box open and pulling out his gifts one by one. On top was a silky, red dress shirt with shiny black buttons, wrapped up in similar paper as in your gift. Underneath the shirt, though, was the real gift: three jumbo boxes of chocolate. You could see him fighting the eagerness out of his expression as he held one of the candy boxes in hand. “You’re so predictable,” he laughed weakly, but you saw the twinkling in his crimson eyes. “The shirt’s nice.”
“Try it on.”
“Yes. Now,” you repeated a bit more firmly.
You two made a deal: you’d step away from your monitors, change into your respective gifts, then come back. Kind of a “you can’t see the bride before the wedding” deal. Much to your surprise, the set he’d bought you actually fit pretty well. It wasn’t perfect, but for it being a guess you were impressed. The bra was a bit heavily padded and exaggerated your cleavage, but you didn’t hate it. You weren’t sure you could hate anything Dave picked out for you.
To your surprise, you were the first to return to your monitor. “Dave?” you asked, hearing him fumble in the background. “You okay?”
“It’s… it doesn’t fit,” you heard him stutter from the other side of his room, his voice thick with poorly-disguised embarrassment. “It’s too small.”
“Let me see,” you requested, hoping you sounded nonchalant. He reluctantly stepped back into frame, far enough back that you could see the whole thing.
“It fits,” you said contrarily. And it did, at least in loose terms. It was snug, that was for certain. The fabric creased and strained around his arms, and the buttons were pulled a bit more apart than they should’ve been. You could see the lines of his breasts in the red fabric, and the shirt hugged his pear-shaped frame firmly. It fit. At least, he wasn’t bursting out of it.
“This,” he said as he sat in his chair, perhaps a bit carefully, “is not what I would call ‘fitting.’”
“It buttons, doesn’t it?”
“Barely.” Though he seemed a bit begrudging, he didn’t make any moves to take it off. Instead, he admired you in the camera, seeming to momentarily forget about the ill-fitting garment altogether. “Wow,” he said a bit wistfully, a smile tugging at his lips. “That looks… really good on you.”
“Thanks,” you stammered out clumsily, brushing a bit of your hair aside. You were standing, and gave a little turn around to show it all off. Then you sat back down in your office chair, tilting and adjusting the camera so he could still see your chest as well as your face.
“At least one of us is a good judge of size.”
“Shut up. It looks perfect,” you insisted again. Now that he was sitting, you could only see the way the collar fit snugly around his pudgy neck. “Could you move your camera?” you asked, biting your lip a bit. By now he knew all about what turned you on, all about your kink. More importantly you knew he was into it too, even if he pretended like he only did it for you. Still, the initial request always felt awkward, even if you knew he’d say yes.
“Move it how?”
“Like… up. Up and angled down.” The screen went fuzzy and dark for a moment, muffled shuffling noises coming through your headset while he fiddled with his camera. When it cleared, you could see a slight aerial view of him sitting back in his chair, like he'd perched it atop a stack of books or something. This was an entirely new angle of him for you, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how the arms of his chair hugged his broad thighs, the way his stomach hid some of his lap. Now that he was sitting, the gaps between his buttons had spread a bit wider.
“Yeah, that’s-” You swallowed, only to see him smirk a bit smugly. “That’s perfect.”
“Is it really this easy?” he chuckled, beginning to idly rub the sides of his stomach and pinch the excess skin through the shirt. “This is seriously all it takes to get you all melty and starry-eyed? Just some fat dude chilling in his room?”
Your smile turned a bit disapproving, your brows pinching together in silent scolding. “Not ‘just some fat guy.’ You. You get me starry-eyed, you dick.”
His snarky grin softened, affection drifting into his eyes. “You’ve got some weird tastes,” he laughed, your heart skipping a beat as he reached for the first box of chocolates. “But fuck me if I’m not game.”
“Wish I could fuck you,” you purred, licking your lips subconsciously while he opened up the box and carefully chose his first piece.
He held the little, milky orb up to his lips and bit into it experimentally, his eyes going a bit wide when oozing caramel dripped out and stuck to his bottom lip. How you ached to be the one to lick it off, to pet and rub his belly with one hand while you daintily fed him morsel after morsel with the other. Instead he did the licking for you, looking up deliberately into the camera while he did. The calmness of his expression was betrayed by his trembling lips, his hot flush, and his pinched brows. You felt your mouth go a little dry as he stuck out his tongue, placed the other uneaten half of the treat on it, and chewed slowly and sensually, moaning perhaps a bit too dramatically as he savored the taste.
“You’re getting good at this,” you sighed, covering your mouth with your fingers. You were smiling so stupidly, you were sure of it, and your face felt so hot.
“I’ve been practicing just for you, babe.”
You weren’t sure if he was being sincere about that or not, but it didn’t matter either way. The next one he ate looked like some kind of strawberry filling, equally drippy and sticky as the caramel as it ran down his chin. He repeated his tactics from the last chocolate, employing his fingers to wipe the pink glob away and lick it off, but from there he seemed to take to just popping the whole thing in at once. Opening his mouth wide he balanced a whole candy in the center of his tongue, pushing it in erotically with his fingers. It almost looked like he was drooling with pleasure. With this new, equally hot method, the process quickened substantially, and within twenty minutes the box was empty.
The second box was a different brand and assortment, but it was just as big and with just as many chocolates. (If not more.) There were at least 30 different kinds in each one, and you’d sent him three boxes total. He was already showing signs of being a bit full, his cheeks flushing hotter and a bit of skin peaking out between the buttons of his shirt.
“I wish you were here,” he groaned, rubbing his belly in circles and giving it a devious little shake purely for your pleasure. Its jiggling was stiffened by the tight garment, a bit of his muffin top drooping out at the hem. “It feels so much better when you do this…”
Whether he was being sincere and sweet or brushing up on his dirty talk, the words made your heart go all warm and fuzzy and your core tingle with want. “I wish I was there too,” you replied breathily. “I’d feed and pamper and spoil you until you were blissed out of your mind. Till you felt so full you didn't want to move...”
You watched as he squirmed in his chair, a visible shiver going through him. Before he opened the second box, he seemed to remember his other gift to you as he grabbed for the remote he’d shown you earlier. You didn’t need to be told what to do next. The design had a simple curvature, and was easy to move inside of you. You prepared yourself, and once ready held a thumbs up to let him know.
Then it started, slow at first but undeniably pleasurable. Your shoulders tensed a bit and it was hard to keep your eyes open at first while he kept downing treat after treat. “Mnn,” you whined a bit, gripping the edge of your chair as if to anchor yourself. “Your mouth is so hot… I love the way you eat and lick your big, plump lips…”
You heard his breath hitch a bit, and from the vantage point of his monitor you could see a little tent starting to form in his sweatpants. It was slightly overshadowed by the heavy overhang of his gut, but it was there nonetheless. You went from looking there back to his face, just as he was pushing another, speckled-white chocolate between his wet, eager lips. Cookies and cream, perhaps?
By the time the second box was gone, he was undeniably bloated. He leaned further back in his chair, his head tilting a bit blearily to the side as he rubbed his no-doubt aching stomach. “You’re doing so good, baby,” you encouraged through wanting gasps, the vibrations slightly picking up in speed. You felt ready to come, but you didn’t want to. Not yet. “S-slow it down though. I-I wanna savor this…”
He nodded, and while you didn’t quite see his hand flip the switch, you could tell the vibrations had gone back to a gentle, teasing hum. “You want me to break outta these buttons too?” he guessed in a husky tone of voice, his hands cupping his swollen muffin top tauntingly. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, and you loved that half-shy, half-arrogant smirk, if that was even possible. Like he couldn’t believe this was real but he was so glad it was.
You saw him squirm a bit, and even through your headphones you could hear the strain of fabric around his middle section. The two of you moaned softly, practically in unison. He was almost there, and he was getting harder by the second. “I wanna touch you,” you blurted out, watching him down another few chocolates in just a minute or so. You saw a twitch in the tent of his pants, encouraging you to keep going. “I want to melt into your big, fat belly and touch. Every. Single. Inch.”
The way he panted almost seemed in time with those last, emphasized syllables. He only had a few more chocolates to go, and now there were visible indentations where the tight fabric was pressing into his skin. Then, the last one was gone, and you watched as it entered his mouth and slid down his throat, almost in slow motion. He cradled his stomach as it groaned and bubbled from its full capacity, his breathing so heavy you almost thought he’d already came.
A bit to your surprise, he seemed disappointed. “Maybe it wasn’t enough?” he asked, looking into the camera as if you were the guru of this shit. He seemed almost as eager to bust out if the shirt as you were to see it. “I can go downstairs and grab some-”
But the second he made a move to get up, his straighter posture making his stomach bulge out, it was over. The fabric screamed, his chair groaned under his weight, and stitches began to pop apart. One. Two. Three. The bottom three buttons all broke off, barely half a second in between each one. His expression as he looked down at himself, inspecting the destroyed stitches, was somewhere between that natural, uncertain embarrassment and absolute awe.
“Fuck,” he breathed, flinching a bit as his relaxed posture finally sent a fourth button flying. Now only his squishy breasts were still contained in the shirt. “I've seriously gotten fat.” His tone didn’t seem upset or bitter like it had on your first night back home, two months ago. No, this was an exasperated, but all-around pleased little purr. “I’ve gained since Christmas too.”
You’d noticed, of course, but you were too blissed out to comment at the moment. Seeing that tight shirt burst open, hearing him gloat about all the weight he was gaining, sent you over the edge despite the low setting of the vibrator. You rode out your orgasm, and you heard him moan at some point too. Through hazy eyes you could see him gripping and playing with the fat, swollen wad of his stomach with one hand, the other busying itself with his needy cock.
He finished shortly after you, blushing all the way down his neck as he cried out in ecstacy. His hips jerked as he came, sending waves through the fat layers of his stomach, his thighs wobbling weakly. “O-oh fuck,” he whined as he started to come down, swallowing with no small amount of effort. Even after the last waves of pleasure had ended, he continued to play with and fondle his gut, even lifting it up and letting it drop back down to his lap with a dull slapping sound. He knew how much you loved that.
“You’re so gorgeous,” you murmured without thinking about, not that you wouldn’t have said it either way. “You always have been… I-I… fuck, I love you, Dave…”
You didn’t care that you’d only been dating for a couple of months. You’d known each for so long, and you knew you’d loved him long before your brief visit back home, before any of this had started. You loved him, thin or fat, near or far. At first you were afraid of how he may react to those heavy words, but he just smiled the sweetest, happiest smile you’d ever seen. It made your heart melt and your own lips spread into a blissful grin.
“I love you too, (y/n). Always have.”
The two of you stayed up for hours after that, just talking, flirting, admiring one another and saying all of the things you wished you two could do in person. When you finally did decide it was time to sleep, you took your laptop and webcam into bed with you, setting it up so you could still see him as you laid on your side, and he did the same. It was nowhere near as good as snuggling up into his fleshy body, having his arms wrap around you and hearing his heartbeat drumming in your ear. But you fell asleep looking into his eyes, listening to his soft, idle chatter, and you supposed that was good enough for now.
No matter the distance between you, no matter how far he may be… you loved him. And that was enough.