Over the course of a year things had spiralled out of control, even by my standards.
If I could have been described as "a little out of shape" before the ring, I was now best described as "very, very unhealthy". Every day was just a series of fried meats, cheeses, pastas, pizzas... anything my now cholesterol-ridden heart desired, often in industrial measurements. It was somewhat humorous to think of a sub-200lbs me eating 5 burgers in a sitting then having my mother funnel cream directly into my mouth as "dessert". It was clear even at that size there was a morbidly obese man inside me.
Now I looked like someone who would have their servant funnel cream into them. At 400 lbs I must have been quite a sight to behold as I slowly and hypnotically puffed my way down the stairs. All this gorging had caused my gut to become cartoonishly immense, that it dwarfed what were an ennormous pair of breasts and my wide, supple ass. For the sake of comfort I seldom wore than a pair of underpants, so as I descended the stairs at a near-glacial pace my excessive lard wobbled violently. I appeared almost nude the way my undersized underwear as it sank into my fat and almost dissappeared around my diametre. Even behind it ressembled a thong that my ass devoured hungrily. I was like a nightmare-vision of my former self, but getting to this point was heaven.
By the second time I'd yelled from the breakfast table, Mom had scrabbled out of the kitchen with the platter of caremelized bacon. Thanks to gruelling year of cooking huge amounts of food around the clock in her underwear, Mom had actually lost a heap of weight. Her curvy ass and big, motherly boobs had shrunk and she was looking somewhat sickly and under nourished.
As I devoured my bacon I wondered; she was still a pretty woman but was she sexy this skinny? I had a woman at my disposal full time and logically I should have her looking as hot as possible. But what size was that?
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