You’ve done everything you could to prepare the perfect anniversary present, befitting the perfect girlfriend. A shy, bookish girl with freckles on her cheeks and brown hair to her shoulders. You made sure that nobody would trace where she disappeared to; you displayed her finely on a dining tray, covered in savory sauces atop a bed of lettuce; and now, all that was left of her was a pair of wriggly feet in your girlfriend’s drooling mouth, until, with another swallow, those, too, vanished into that black abyss of a throat.
It was such a rare treat that dhecwas able to indulge like this! Assured you’d covered every aspect of her meal’s disappearance, your beloved felt comfortable taking those last few gulps, the last bit of the girl bulging out her stretchy neck for one final moment before her imprint disappeared into her soft body completely. Wriggle as she might, all of her was pressed, slowly but surely, though her tightened esophageal sphincter, down into that waiting stomach. Her stomach was designed to process food, not to be comfortable; and so, her meal found herself treated like any other bit of food, compacted into that tightened, sweltering sauna of a gut, curled up into a tight ball halfway submerged in a bubbling, hot cauldron of digestive enzymes. It was like a private jacuzzi in there, at over a hundred degrees fahrenheit or so, packed away deep beneath the layers of pudge adorning your girlfriend’s tummy, joined only by the half-digested bits of food that contributed to the gastric miasma proliferating what little air her prey could get.
Naturally, she struggled quite obstinately against such disgusting, inhospitable confines - but her rebelliousness only left your girlfriend moaning in bliss, and gave you quite the show, watching that massive belly slosh and bulge and shift with the clear contours of the girl imprisoned within. It sent chills up your spine just to feel over the smooth, taut skin of that gut, and feel movement just beneath your fingers. Her gut was roaring to life, each organ like a musician in some grand orchestra, with wet gurgles, churns and sloshes for instruments, playing some grand symphony to signal yet another entire person being added to your girlfriend’s growing figure. No wonder she’s tripled in size since she met you. It was no wonder you soon lost yourself in that tummy, hugging it close, pressing yourself against that smooth, tumultuously bulging dome of a gut, groping and massaging it as if in pure adoration for every inch, sending kisses up and down its circumference and licks over her navel, massaging your thumbs into key pressure points and eliciting further moans from your lover’s lips. For the rest of the night, you would be in eachother’s embrace, her little belly prisoner an unwitting participant in your courtship. At times, you would be on top, lavishing your lover’s body with kiss and massages and all the affection you could muster, helping it process its latest meal to further augment her perfect figure - and at other times, she would be upon you, crushing and smothering you beneath her taut belly, her chubby rump or her pillowy breasts, enveloping you in her soft body almost as much as she had done her prey; for you felt no particular need for ‘air’ as long as it was supplanted by your lover’s touch. Her prey would take days to stop squirming, and weeks still for her meat to be processed completely, meaning the two of you had many days to enjoy her company and watch how many pounds she ends up adding to your girlfriend’s figure.
It was the perfect anniversary present, indeed.
gastronomicgeekgirl