FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

http://www.furaffinity.net/user/deltacoon/ https://deltacoon.sofurry.com/

---

I should start off by saying I'm greedy....

"I'm a glutton; you could call me sin incarnate. But, damnit, I cannot help myself. It's too enticing, rewarding, and deliciously lustful." I said into the receiver, almost moaning out in pleasure.

There was a pause ...a short sigh, and then an answer: "...so you comin' over or what?" The voice spoke, prodding at my hunger and lust.

A paw caressed the four inches of doughy underbelly hanging out of my stained t-shirt.

"...yeah. See you soon." I said, then clicked end on my cell and placed it on the counter, my digits still tracing the hefty roll. Each centimeter of pelt my paws smoothed over produced a charge that made me shiver slightly.

I closed my eyes and leaned back, my heavily-padded rump squishing into the wall behind me as my tail swished excitedly. I reached down a little further, struggling past the strain of my plump chest and blubbery middle, my digits wiggling and tingling as they tickled my sensitive underbelly, its warmth and musk filling my senses. I huffed quietly, to myself, and... *Bzzzz... bzzzzz...* ...paused.

My phone was vibrating towards the well-used microwave; I whimpered as I retracted my fattened paw, the digits stretched in dusty golden fur. I opened my eyes and took a couple laborious steps forward; after scooping up the device, I tilted my phone toward my line of vision and read: "hope you're not playing w/ yourself ;)"

I felt my cheeks flush as I leaned towards the counter, whimpering as I felt a surge in my loins. Another buzz erupted in my paw... "not that you'd have to, I'm sure that buried cock gets more than enough teasing from just waddling to get yourself off..." I whined, looked down and shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts out of my head. The act didn't help as I felt my chins, along with the rest of me, wobble in retort.

My thunderous footpaws carried me through the doorway to a small corridor that leads to my bedroom; my cheeks flushed as I noted that I wasn't grazing doorframes... just yet... and continued on. I passed my bathroom and paused to glance at the golden labrador staring back. The reflection tilted his head, causing its chins to shift and bunch together. A wagging tail could be seen peaking out around one side of the mountainous canine, which made him grin gleefully. I once again shook myself from my thoughts and continued into my room.

After easing the door open, I looked at the messy room: puddles of used clothes and various fast food bags lay crumpled into mounds, the unmade bed seemed to be bowing quite extensively. I sniffed in and wagged, my nose picking up all the rich, heady scents lingering throughout the smaller space. There was something about my own musk that always comforted and, naturally, aroused me. As I had grown heavier, it seemed that ever-present musk just intensified.

For some, becoming the stereotype of a slobbish ex-jock wouldn't be exciting... but it was a craving I felt I couldn't deny. I snatched up a t-shirt - a 5XL - from the top of one of the larger heaps and then tugged off my current shirt. As the fabric pulled over my snout, I drew in several huffs of the sweat-adorned fabric and let out a soft whimper, my member once again making itself known. The partially hidden cock throbbing upwards into a thick roll of underbelly flab, each pulse causing the pillowy sphere to bounce slightly.

I felt my legs wobbling, either out of the effort of standing or what my mind was doing to me and sat down heavily on my bed. The springs groaned beneath me and a glance down only found my expansive middle; the ever-expanding middle blocking any vision of the floor. I grinned and gave my mountainous middle a pat, creating a rippling wave of blubber, and then pulled on my shirt and stood up.

I checked for my wallet and keys, and then headed back to the kitchen. After snatching my phone, I slipped it into my pocket then headed to the door. This was the worst (and best part) of being a fatass in a third floor apartment: I slowly began making my way down, taking each step carefully as the recent addition of bulk didn't allow for muscles to catch up; the stairs reminded me of relentless growth as both a point of embarrassment and pride. I paused at the top of the last flight of stairs, panting and almost keeled over the aged banister. The wood protested my weight as I pushed off and then quickly made it down the last flight. When I reached the ground floor, I already knew my shirt would have a few wide rings of sweat. My paw slipped under the overhang on the side of my body and cupped around a warm roll of blubber bouncing it as much as possible.

I looked both ways as I exited the lobby, as if I were crossing the street, but more to avoid any unpleasant conversations with athletic, judgmental neighbors. I peddled to my car: an oversized SUV just large enough to handle my bulk as I slid in and turned over the engine. I felt a buzzing on my side and felt my ears pin back. Even my cell phone's low powered vibrations caused my fat to bounce and pool onto an armrest. I leaned as far as I could to my side without reopening my door and retrieved it, placing the small device against my head, not that it could be seen in my pudgy paw.

"Hey... What's up?" I asked into the phone between heavy gulps of air as I began the trip down the block, my enlarged legs unable to handle the distance.

"Really...?" The voice beckoned. "You're driving over here?" He scoffed and shifted his tongue. "You should just stay over fats, you're gonna be back over anyway..." He added, a TV now audible in the background.

I felt my cheeks flush once again and my belly gurgled in retort, "Shut up... I just needed to check some stuff at home." I lied, as I had left to try to snap myself out of the gluttonous spell I was put under: I was getting to a serious point with this. My work had suffered because I was often late getting back from a feast of a lunch. I spent afternoons in a haze, lazily pushing whatever I could find into my muzzle as paperwork piled up. Why work on building up my role or a company when I could selfishly be working on -me-? I pulled over in front of a small house, a dim light shining onto a plain but relatively ill-kept lawn.

He laughed again then hung up, knowing I was just outside. I slipped out of my car, noting I'd probably need to push the seat back a notch or two the next time I was in there... whenever that would be...

I padded around my car, feeling my midsection slosh, wobble, and gurgling loudly. As I approached the door, it opened and framed a thin gray kangaroo in the doorway. He crossed his legs, his large socked footpaws sliding over each other as he looked me over. His dark hair hung in front of one of his eyes and he used a steady paw to push the tuft back into place behind one of his large ears.

"We'll have to go see them again... you're getting too big for that shirt." Jack said as he grinned. After pulling a joint out from behind his ear, he popped it into his muzzle and lit the thick end, taking a drag as I continued on.

The walkway seemed to stretch on, as if it were the last grains of sand running out of time on making any choices to change the seemingly unavoidable. I looked down at my black shirt, a logo of our favorite band adorning my chest, and noticed a band of creamy yellow fur just beyond the fabric. My expansive and exceptionally pliable belly had slipped out for all to see.

I wasn't surprised. In fact, I was quite excited. Jack's place was where everyone went to hang out; a place we'd all go and be ourselves. When I first met him, he was just a weird guy in high school that smoked pot and seemed to know people's business. Now though... he welcomes people into his home, as ratty as it may be, and encourages them. He encourages them to be themselves: whether a cross-dressing bear, a drug-addicted bull, or a food-addicted, bloated dog.

I sniffed in as I pushed through the door, the roo not moving so he could enjoy being stuck beside me in the doorframe. He had some good, strong weed and I knew I couldn't deny him. I melted when I was around him. He was thin, but still muscular enough to handle bigger guys and his large tail that always conveyed a coy, playfulness... one that was always ready with another joint, round of beer, or fattening treat for his guests.

The pot hit me and I felt a familiar haze return deeply, I was still a 'lightweight' and it always went straight to my head. He pushed the joint into my wide muzzle and placed both paws firmly on my sagging paunch. He gave it a firm jiggling, which turned into a slow, full belly rub. His eyes connected with mine and my cheeks flushed further in the connection. Give a dog belly rubs and he'll always come back for more... I breathed in deeply, my tail wagging and already feeling the effect of the grass.

"Mmm... you are gettin' a little chubby, Alex." He said with a giggle as he left my belly alone to its own wobbling.

I moaned and took another long hit, my lungs filling with the delightful smoke as my midsection groaned, crying for more attention. A 'little chubby' to Jack was apparently upwards of a quarter ton. My back stayed planted against the wall as he continued to give me his attention, what some might call 'love'. But for Jack it was an addiction in itself, just like the wares he pushed on all of us.

My eyes shut as the rubs intensified. My tail continued thumping into the wall and the sensitive fur the roo's talented paws glided over gave a rumbling approval. One of my paws eased the joint out of my muzzle and I lapped at my lips slowly. Before my tongue slipped back into my muzzle I felt a puff of warm air against my snout as Jack pushed his muzzle to mine. My eyes rolled backward as his tongue pushed in against mine, despite the smoke and booze the roo's tongue having a sweetness I hadn't found in any sort of snack yet .

My mind continued to swirl as the weed continued washing over my senses; before I knew it I was left leaned against the wall, my tongue lazily lapping at nothingness.

I opened an eye as Jack walked into his living room and fall into his couch. I popped the joint back in my muzzle and padded through the room to the kitchen. My soon-to-be-boat sized body sailing toward the fridge. I reached in and grabbed a gallon of chocolate milk, as well as a pint of half and half. I slipped them under an arm and took another drag. My tail swished behind me wildy, jostling my body as I made it to the range. I flung open the oven door and retrieved two wide pans of brownies.

I'm not sure where the recipe came from, or the amount of weed Jack baked into every batch, but every time I came over it felt like muscle memory (or maybe more aptly described as blubber memory) that I retrieved the fattening and appetite-expanding treats, then pushed my heavy body towards the couch. I proceeded into the living room, the floor creaking beneath me, and flopped onto the loveseat. It groaned but held as I flapped my arm and let the dairy containers fall in the small spaces between either side of my wide hips and shrinking armrests. I wiggled into the couch to find a comfortable position, the movement kicking up the same foul musk from my room. Another pulse to my crotch. Another pang of hunger.

I set the trays down on either side of me as I took another long drag.

"You're almost too big for that thing, tubs." The roo said, now standing above me. "Almost..." He grinned and reached down for the joint, quickly pulling it from my muzzle and popping it into his. One of his paws reached down and retrieved one of the pans.

I blushed and leaned back, looking on with amusement as the roo's paw sank into the gooey brownie, a massive mound of cannabis-enriched chocolate rapidly moving toward my jowls. Before Jack's paw found my muzzle, I pulled off my shirt and enjoyed the poignant musk that seeped into the space like a fog. My golden-furred belly simply spilled into my lap, the gelatinous rolls obscuring the view of my thick thighs and strained pants; the act looking like the gentle consumption honey or syrup would give to a plate. My eyes turned up to Jack as I settled into my current high, expecting to lose any sense of control shortly.

Jack's green eyes returned my gaze as a cheshire grin curled up the edges of his muzzle. Usually this didn't happen until I was already high, so what I saw happen make my heart pound with a morbid curiosity. All of the roo's genteel demeanor faded as the true Jack came out to play.

His brow tightened down as his words rang out around the joint once more, "It'll be okay though, fatass. Eventually you're going to be too big to warrant buying shirts all together."

I moaned as his forceful hand drove that warm mass of calories right into my starved muzzle.

...God I couldn't wait until he was right.