It’s Actually Half and Half

Let me address this post to you, the gorgeous, gorgeous, super-sexy woman who’s had an absolutely FABULOUS time over the past weeks, taking full advantage of these irresistibly fattening holidays of non-stop feasting.  Celebrate!?  You sure did!!

See what a girl can do when she puts her mind to it?

See what a girl can do when she puts her mind to it?

What a vixen you are!! You started munching on Thanksgiving Day and you’re only just now slowing down.  You’ve rocketed that daily calorie count into the stratosphere and now you’ve got the figure to show for it.  It must be so much fun, checking yourself out in the mirror every morning after your shower…

[Man!  I better cool off…]

You’d think that would be enough for a feeder/encourager like me.  It should be, and it would be but for the fact that my fascination/love/adoration of female fatness is only half the story.  Your fatness turns me on.  Does it ever!!  But I’m not just a feeder, I’m a nerd as well.  Your curvy softness is driving me wild, but I want more.  I want statistics!  I want numbers!  I want documentation.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m totally delighted that you showed up for work today wearing a sleeveless tube top.  Your arm fat is making me woozy!  And yet.  And yet.  I want you to come by and give me the “count”.  How much have you gained?  How many pounds?  How many inches?  How many dress sizes?

It’s the blubber, yes of course; but it’s also the accounting that turns me on.  I don’t want you to talk to me about your new flat screen.  Talk dirty to me!  Spill your secret!  Reveal those delicious, delicious numbers!  Tell me a story about every wonderful ounce you’ve welcomed into your glorious gainer body…

Man, I’ve got it bad —-

—- and that ain’t good!

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