Wherein two big boys get cozy together in the big city.
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Wherein two big boys get cozy together in the big city.
“Hmmmhff…” The streets of Manehattan are cold today -- but Caramel has plenty to be warm about with his coltfriend staying over for Hearthswarming. He certainly wasn’t hard to find at the train station -- Not only is he an easy pony to notice in a crowd (although, it seems everypony’s waistlines have been widening lately!) but he’s also so large that one simply can’t squeeze all that bulk into a regular passenger car, making his half-ton heartthrob one of the last to disembark.
Since they’d made it official, Brae’s weight had only been increasing faster every day. With every meal, every late-night stuff-and-screw, the yellow-furred orb of earth pony blubber inched closer and closer to immobility. Now, even on an empty stomach his engorged belly pressed against the ground between his pudgy legs, bulging out anywhere there were gaps between them and wobbling against any floor he stood upon. At least it helped keep him warm in these cold winter months; the only thing that fits him is the red scarf around his neck, and even that’s barely making it around the thick roll of fat that has swallowed his head up to the chins.
His pudgy, wobbly cheeks are deep red, partially from the cold and partially from the struggle of trucking around so much stallion that his buckfriend can’t even trot alongside him on the sidewalk without being edged into the streets by his other half’s broadened hips.
Not that Caramel minds the view -- From behind, he gets a wonderful view of a pair of flanks so massive they have trouble clearing some doorways, not to mention that hefty orb of bellyfat that gushes out from between the goldenrod blob’s trunk-like legs. The curve of Braeburn’s ass rises far above his head, swallowing his tail to the tip in the valley of cleavage parting it down the center. With the way his hips have flared out, he looks quite like a mare from behind -- albeit one wider than a park bench.
And Caramel gets to see every wobble, every shake of the hips that sends the rest of Brae’s body into a fit of sloshing and jiggling, so much cushy, squeezable fat that it keeps the blubberbound buck decent no matter how deep into gluttonous arousal he descends... And it just fuels salacious memories of watching his coltfriend grow bigger and fatter before his eyes as they romp all night. Memories that are swallowing up his focus just as entirely as Brae’s feet-deep navel swallows his-...
“Mmmhf!”
All that flankmeat Caramel is so deeply focused on does so much jiggling that he doesn’t even notice when his well-fed lover stops moving, leaving the much-less-plump buck behind him to trot facefirst into a wall of yellow, velvety blubber… And even once he realises, he allows himself a moment to enjoy the warmth of stallion rump engulfing the entire front of his body. Rather than trot around, he mounts the blob, looking over the mountain of flesh in a manner so very nearly familiar that it’s hard to not give into his arousal there and then.
“U-uhh.. B-brae? Y-you alright?”
“M-mmmhmm…”
Caramel realises that with his heart beating like a drum in his own chest, he didn’t even hear his barely-mobile buckfriend huffing and wheezing as he took a moment to catch his breath. There’s too much neckflab in the way for Brae to turn to look back over himself at him -- He can’t even wear his hat anymore; with his backrolls encroaching so close upon his head -- but he makes a token effort anyway.
“J-just… T-takin’ a moment t’catch my breath…” He’s sunk down a little -- using his pony-sized belly as a bed to prop himself up and allowing those poor, flab-swallowed legs of his to rest in the meanwhile. The thick slab of lard burying his chest rises and falls sluggishly as he recoils from the monumental effort that a few yards of waddling now entails him.
“Oh, heh… Right…” The brown-maned-and-rosy-cheeked buck behind him takes a moment to peer around for onlookers before indulging himself ever so slightly; his hooves sinking deep into the sides of Braeburn’s thighs. They completely disappear into the growth-distorted patch of red that used to be his coltfriend’s cutie mark; and would sink deeper if the hips they were plastered on weren’t too wide to reach around -- especially with the prodigiously-plump belly Caramel himself is sporting.
While still the image of fitness compared to the glutton before him, he certainly hasn’t been losing any weight himself. He’s about as heavy as Brae was back before Appleloosa’s bountiful harvests really started to ruin the buck’s figure; albeit with a little more in the belly where Brae carried more in the hips. The shape’s certainly helped keep him waddling for a little longer… If he were more gut-heavy those tree-trunk hindlegs he’s grown probably wouldn’t be able to reach his hooves to anything but his own bellyfat.
Really, as difficult as being quite a porker himself makes some things, he can’t deny how much it’s growing on him in more than just a literal way. Feeling his chubby cheeks wobble against his lover’s when they kiss, or letting their chins rest together when they’re cuddled up close… Not to mention the allure of how despite how fat he is, Braeburn is still so much bigger. Of course… He’s got to make sure not to go overboard -- one of them has to keep mobile, and it’s certainly not going to be his farmpony-turned-couch-destroyer date.
Just the thought of Brae finally reaching total immobility; becoming so wonderfully, gorgeously obese that he can’t even do so much as bring a flab-collared hoof to his pudgy snout to feed himself sends a tingle through his spine that culminates in a poke against the lower belly flab he’s about a jiggle away from humping right in the middle of the sidewalk, one that the mountain itself certainly notices.
“M-mnh.. C-can’t even wait ‘til we get home, huh, Cara?” Brae teases, gently bumping his immense bulk backwards enough to nearly knock the feeder farmhand off his hooves. Caramel regains his balance, fluffing his tightly-filled coat as though that could help shake off the fluster bouncing around in him.
“U-uh, y-yeah, s-sorry… We’re almost there; it’s that door just ahead!” Thankfully for both of them, Caramel’s flat wasn’t too far off from the station. Still, though, it felt like the few blocks they had to walk would be enough to burn a couple pounds -- something the smaller stallion will certainly have to rectify once they’re both nice and cozy.
Being the courteous buck he is, Caramel’s quick to open the door for his dinner date. He lets the larger Brae through first, just to catch one more glimpse of all that flank in motion. Everything’s going smoothly, until…
“..E-erh… Uhm… Cara…?” Brae’s stopped halfway through the doorway, and this time it’s not to catch his breath.
The blubberbound earth blob has gotten stuck. The tighter confines of city life don’t seem to quite agree with the country stallion’s hips; with the lower two thirds of the entrance to Caramel’s apartment completely filled out right down to the corners of the doorway. Hipflesh is bunched up at the sides, with the edges of the frame sank a good inch into the fat of his flanks and keeping Brae well anchored to the spot… “Ahm gonna need a little help…”
Help that Caramel is certainly willing and eager to provide. As if he even needed the excuse, Caramel’s forelegs are soon bingo-wings deep in Brae’s oversized behind, both bucks groaning from the effort. The willpower of the tubby pony pushing is once more tested as he feels the masses of golden plotflesh jiggle around, bouncing upon his body like tidal waves of gelatin in his seemingly fruitless attempts to force a very, very round peg into a square hole. Beanbag-chair-sized masses of fat mush against his dark-haired mane, sagging over Caramel just as readily as they usually sag over Brae’s own hocks with a crease at the bottom so deep you could lose a bedsheet in them.
Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately, for how much the two are enjoying themselves), their struggles ultimately aren’t in vain -- with an audible creaking of wood, finally the rest of Brae’s engorged mass is forced through the door with enough momentum in his wobbling fat that it actually propels him forth a good single step or two. Cara’s almost worried that the door won’t close behind them with the reckless abuse it just endured… Not to mention how much more it’ll have to go through once his feedee’s vacation is over.
Then again… Won’t have to worry about that if Brae’s too fat to waddle out by that time anyway…
The living room is well prepared for the thousand-plus pounds of earth pony it’ll be hosting for the next week. Caramel hasn’t even bothered setting up the couch -- Not because he’d mind seeing his nearly-bedbound buckfriend break another sofa, but because he hasn’t gotten around to getting a new one since the last time his feedee-with-many-benefits was over. Furniture’s expensive -- and who needs a couch, when you’ve got a lover the size of one anyway?
As is the case now -- the two have gotten nice and cozy in the middle of the room; Braeburn parked on his triple-wide behind with Caramel laying snug atop his mountainous belly. There’s already a few empty pie tins littering the floor beside them, with the last slice of the next one to join the pile disappearing between Brae’s chubby cheeks with just as much love as the first dozen had behind them. Caramel’s bulky hips lazily bump back and forth against the mound of lard billowing out beneath him; his free hoof marbles around in the deep lovehandles broadening Braeburn’s sides.
They’ve squeezed Brae’s adipose-engorged legs into a set of socks, striped with dark and lighter blue patches -- matching his feeder’s eyes perfectly. Each one is big enough that one could be forgiven for mistaking them for pillowcases, and yet still was a struggle for the two to even force all that limbflab into. It was certainly worth the effort, though, to see just how heavily his upper legs and thighs muffintop over the hem. Caramel had a much easier time sliding into his own, the green stripes both matching Brae’s eyes and quite nicely accentuating the comparatively lesser girth they were being forced to accomodate.
“U-Uuuuuoooorp!” A cheek-wobbling belch forces its way out of the blob’s mouth, throwing pie crumbs into Caramel’s mane as he cuddles into Brae’s chest. Despite the deep padding of adipose smothering it, he can still hear the earth buck’s heart pounding in the low arousal they’ve been stewing in ever since the glutton’s massive flanks crashed to the living room floor with a meaty thud a little while ago.
“‘S-scuse me…” He mutters, as his adoring feeder raises the tin to his muzzle for him to lick clean. It then joins the rest of its freshly-unpied brethren, still rocking around on its base as Caramel wobbles himself up far enough to bring his pudgy snout to Brae’s. No matter how much fatter his lovely feedee gets, the smaller pudgeball can’t help but be awestruck by his size...
“You’re so big…” Cara understates, tasting the remnants of apple pie still adorning his new sofa’s lips. He slides his hooves under Brae’s cheeks, cupping them against the voluminous collar of neckfat that his favorite blob’s head is beginning to disappear into, and uses them for leverage to pull himself close for another pastry-flavored smooch. The farmpony-blob reciprocates happily, murring into the kiss as his own pudgy-padded food-shovel forehooves grope and fondle at the mass of bellyfat Caramel himself has cultivated.
“And Ahm only gettin’ bigger… Thanks to you…” The goldenrod blob shudders as he feels a familiar stiffness prodding at his upper belly. His bottomless pit of a stomach seems to gurgle in response in an almost intimate vibration of bellyflesh upon stallionhood, with his feeder’s length cozily trapped between his own tummy and Brae’s much, much larger counterpart.
Caramels ears flick as nestles his plump muzzle into Brae’s chestfat. He mumbles something into the endless blubber there, before looking back up at him. He’s just barely visible to the mountain of gluttony past his own well-rounded cheeks; as the orbs of facial flab are getting so large they’re giving him a bit of a squint. “Y-you know… I was gonna wait till the end of the week, but… I got something for you for Hearthswarming… Something I think you’ll like.”
Brae’s not able to reply before his lover slides down off his waterbed of a stomach, and even then any inquiry he could make is belayed as Cara’s flabby presses into the monumental stallion’s sensitive navel. A surprised, desire-filled moan creaks out of the buck’s plump lips when he feels his stallionfriend’s cherubic cheeks mush on the sides of belly’s largest fold. His thick folds quake in arousal from the shiver of invigorated lust that shoots through him, from head to fat-ensconced hoof.
“Mwah!” With a kiss, Caramel pulls away from Brae’s glorping stomach and waddles about Brae’s considerable girth to where the thickness of the farmpony’s own neck prevents him from turning far enough to see behind him. “I’ll be right back… Stay right there.” He says coyly, as if Brae could get anywhere fast with his mobility so heavily limited.
He can soon hear Caramel doing something behind him. He hears boxes open, the sounds of metal on metal, and the stretching of rubber… And then the hiss of a food seal being broken. Caramel’s sock-clad hooves suddenly sink into his backrolls, soon accompanied by the warmth of the buck’s doughy stomach. The familiar smell of apples starts to fill the room, though it’s noticeably different from all the other orchard-grown fare…
“You ready, big buck…?” He feels his feeder gently kiss his collar of neckflab, then sensually press his muzzle deeper in. “Close your eyes, and open wide.”
It’s not often he gets a command from his soft-spoken feeder, but he’s happy to obey it. His world is dark, making it that much easier to focus on his other senses…
Feeling Caramel’s heavyset body once more climbing up his frontside bellyshelf…
Hearing the buck huff and groan in effort and arousal…
Smelling the strange, apple-y aroma get stronger and stronger…
And finally, tasting the source of that scent as he feels his enabling feeder stuff something in his muzzle that for once isn’t edible.
He opens his eyes, to see Caramel mounted atop his gut where he so often is; striped socks disappearing into Brae’s bellyflab while a warm, sly smile graces his face. He crosses his eyes to see Cara’s put a tube into his muzzle, and is currently sinking straps into the cushy flab softening the gold-furred whale’s snout to keep it in place.
Seeming satisfied with his efforts, he leans forward and gives the half-ton cowbuck a kiss on the forehead… Then presses a button on the end of the hose.
Immediately, Brae’s cheeks fill with a wonderfully sweet, deliciously apple-y flavor. His stomach starts to fill in a way it’s never been fed before as the feeding tube delivers mouthful after mouthful of what must be a horribly unhealthy, wonderfully fattening paste that sloshes around in his bottomless tummy. The blob-buck lets out a delighted moan, guzzling down the fatty feed at a rate so constant he can almost feel himself growing fatter with every mouthful.
He’s so enraptured by the sensation that he only barely registers his buckfriend once more dismounting his swelling belly as Cara’s fabric-clad hindhooves come to the floor once more so he can feel Brae bloat. The starry-eyed feeder stallion’s shaft slides cozily into Brae’s deepest bellyfold like a hoof into an extra-extra-extra-extra large sock.
“Ulllp… Ulp, ullp…” Gulp after gulp of apple-flavored lard pours into the glutton’s maw, sitting heavily in his gut while he feels the sloshing and burbling organ leave the floor -- Caramel hefts up the mound of half-digested food and blubber with great effort, disappearing under its curve between the hosefed blob’s thighs.
The unfettered desire Brae’s feeling as his stomach swells nearly sends him into orgasm the moment he feels the touch of Cara’s pudgy muzzle. The plumped-up buck’s snout mushes against the foot-deep fatpad swallowing Brae’s shaft, his tongue teasing what little of the blob’s cock wasn’t engulfed in his own pubic blubber.
His stallionhood throbs in tune with the pounding of his heart and the mouthfuls of apple-feed gushing down his maw, leaking sweet lust into Caramel’s maw. The golden-furred mountain is completely helpless; having lost the ability to even reach under his own gut long long ago, able only to wiggle his meaty forelegs around in their blubber sleeves atop his tummy. The seams of his socks start to split as the legs they were tightly encasing grew thicker, letting his deepening flab bulge out in diamond-shaped patches along the edges.
And while he was the one giving, the butterball smothered beneath his gut was getting just as much pleasure out of it as Brae himself was -- Feeling the stallion of his dreams grow fatter by the second, trapped between his massively engorged thighs had his own cock kept pressed against his soft underbelly, smearing its fur with his own pre as he lapped, kissed, and nuzzled at the treasure hidden deep in his coltfriend’s blubber. He could barely reach any of Brae’s length past the whale’s own obesity, leaving him to focus on the most sensitive patch his tubby muzzle still met.
His desires to pleasure the blob was fueled by a fervor for more; visions of Braeburn’s soft-furred fat filling the room had him moaning into the buck’s fatpad. An utter mountain of blobby stallion for him to love, pamper, and adore; thousands of pounds of cushy decadence where a fit and toned stallion once was months ago.
A fourth chin began to form on Brae’s fat-buried face as the thousands of calories pouring into him manifested as adipose all across his vast body, pushing his jaw up against the hose. His socks continue to split at the seams until the fabric’s kept on only by being stuck between the folds of his joints, leaving only his increasingly nubby hooves even partially clothed. The blobby buck had barely a moment to breathe between gulps of lard, driblets leaking from his plump lips down his chins with every shaky, hose-muffled moan.
“M-mmhhrhm…!” The yellow mountain’s cock throbbed harshly in the tight confines of his own flab, head flaring out in Caramel’s mouth. It’s the only warning the flab-smothered city buck gets, being buried so deep in his feedee’s flab that he can’t hear his pleasured groans through the sea of it all. He presses his doughy snout as deep into Brae’s cushy fatpad as he can force it, just in time for a torrent of hot seed to flood his mouth just as his coltfriend’s is flooded with liquid lard.
Caramel’s gut fills with warmth rapidly, and it goes on for so long he can feel himself nearly start to black out before it’s over and he can finally take a breath… But eventually he feels it’s time to pull back out, back from between the glorious yellow cushions squeezing around his head.
“A-aahhh….” He flops on his backrolls, panting loudly while one of his hooves massages deep into his surprisingly well-stuffed gut. Feels like he’s packed on a few pounds just from that alone! He’s so engulfed in adoration for his wagon-sized buckfriend that it takes a moment for the low beeping of the feeding machine to register -- Brae has completely drained the feed tanks; several dozen gallons of pure fattening slop guzzled to the very last drop.
And the effect all that slop has had is quite apparent… His hooves have completely left the floor of the apartment, resting on shelves of bellyfat several feet deep at their thickest. And those hooves -- they’re starting to look more like little nubs, poking out from the thick collars of blubber all of his limbs are engulfed in. His socks have split open almost entirely, seams popped open down to the hooves and held on by what little tension and elasticity they have left.
Backrolls bunch up against the back of his head as they rise above, and even more massive are the flanks that up until recently Caramel was so happily buried between. Either one is rivalling the smaller buck’s quite substantial belly in size.
There’s no doubt about it -- Braeburn has become well and truly immobile. A massive monument to gluttony, hedonism, and adoration trapped in the center of Caramel’s living room by his own gargantuan stomach.
The smaller stallion leans up on the larger’s front mass, unhooking the now useless muzzle harness. It’s not an easy feat, considering how deeply into his snoutflab the straps have sunk and how inflexibly plump Caramel’s legs are becoming.
“H-here, lemme just… Undo this, then I’ll go get clean-” He’s interrupted by his loving feedee once the hose’s straps are loose enough for him to speak.
“Nawh… I-it’s fine… What’s a lil more mess? C’mere…” He bats his lashes, a loving smile on his plumped-up lips. And Caramel is happy to oblige, licking his lips clean as a token effort before his sweat-drenched cheeks nestle in between the even more massive orbs bloating out Brae’s face.
He sinks his hooves into the orange-maned glutton’s immense frontside, tucking the blue fabric of his socks under the buck’s barrel-sized bingo wings. He was there for a thousand of these pounds he’s gained, and yet he still can’t help but be in awe at the size of Brae’s body… He’s so big… So handsome… And now, with the former-farmpony well and truly immobile he’ll only ever get bigger.
Even with the intense act of love they just shared, fantasies fill his mind, of Braeburn growing bigger, till he fills the room, fills the flat… An endless sea of gorgeously cushy blob for him to feed, pamper and utterly adore… A shudder travels down his spine and a happy moan passes his lips to Brae’s.
“Mmmnh…” His blob lets out a happy groan underneath him, cheeks red all across their bloated, wobbly surface. “Ah think somepony’s still got a lil’ somethin’ in ‘im…”
“I-I… I love you, Brae…”
“Love you, too, Caramel…”
“I-I uh… I-I guess you’re gonna be here a little longer than we planned…” He gently humps at the several-hundred pound mass of bellyfat anchoring Brae in place.
“Ah don’t mind…” He bumps his pudgy muzzle forth again, making Caramel’s own chubbed-up face slosh slightly.
“An’ Ah don’t think you mind either, cutie.”
“W-well, there is one thing…” Caramel leaned back, looking about the room.
“Mmmh?” Brae himself was quite incapable of doing the same, his cheeks pushed up so far into his peripheral by their own girth and the blubber below them.
“I-I think we’re gonna need a bigger room.”
