Don't Criticize me!

⇠Packing on The Pounds⇢

Nigel kept one arm around Oscar as they walked, thin fingers gently gripping the thick, fat rolls. Face nuzzling into the critic's shoulder, inhaling his scent as he hummed softly. The baker led the dazed older male into another small cafe, plopping him down into a booth in the back of the restaurant before walking toward the counter. Oscar's hazed eyes flicked down to his bloated stomach, groaning softly as he gently pawed at the curve of his stomach. He was well past full, and it was only a matter of time before either his button-up shirt or pants would give way. But at some point, he was thinking with his stomach and dick rather than his brain during this reunion. The metal buttons of his black slacks were cutting into his lower belly, causing the older male to whine softly. While the buttons were gaping slightly, revealing small slivers of pale flesh that was littered with bright red stitch marks, crawling along his body.

Oscar shifted slightly, spreading this plump throat open so his belly could slide in between and sit against the cool booth. Half of the critic couldn't help but feel a chuckle bubbling in his chest as he traced a finger along the large orb on his lap. His clouded brain wanted him to do nothing more than demand Nigel take him home, just to see how much damage he had caused. The other half was so clouded with pleasure that Oscar's member was lodged against his lower stomach, sending small waves of a mixture of emotions through the critic. Nigel came back shortly afterward, and the older male sat up slightly, watching as the younger male's eyes widened slightly. As his belly surged forward, taking over half of his lap while getting caught on his tight button-up shirt.

Placing a hand on the side of his stomach, Oscar burped into his fist, groaning slightly as Nigel gently shoved the tray of sweets in front of him. "Halloween is coming up; are you doing anything?" The younger male asked, picking apart a blueberry muffin.

The critic cautiously picked up a muffin; the thought of more food caused his stomach to lurch slightly. Pain radiated through his sides, causing the pleasure that caused him to worsen. Pushing the pain to the back of his head, the older male shrugged, taking a large bite. "Probably working... or shopping for new clothing since you've made me outgrow everything. I don't normally take days off during the holidays." Oscar replied.

Nigel smirked, snaking a hand underneath the table, and gently brushed his fingers along Oscar's stomach. Causing the chubbier male to squeak softly, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. The younger male scooted closer to the table, grabbing a handful of fat, and started messaging it softly. The baker pulled down the tight waistband, letting the older male's stomach spill forward more, burying Nigel's hands. "God, your so fucking sexy, Osc; you must be three hundred at least. Maybe you should take the day off this year and come back home with me." He whispered with a playful smirk.

The older male bit down on his lower lip, biting back a moan. Heat coiled in the critic's abdomen, causing his member to leak against his flabby lower belly slightly. Part of Oscar knew this was probably a bad idea, but a small part of him wanted to see how far he could push himself or the younger male before they snapped from the sexual tension between the two of them. "Y-Yeah? What would you do to me?" He taunted.

The baker barked out a soft laugh, pinching one of the stitch marks that decorated Oscar's side. The older male jumped slightly, yelping quietly as the smirk on the younger male's face grew. "I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise for you, love." He replied.

Oscar glanced down at the half-eaten tray, cheeks flushed while panting. The younger male dug his fingers into the front of the older male's stomach, finding there wasn't very much give. Mentally wincing when the seams along Oscar's thighs popped open. Time seemed to slow down as Oscar's slacks popped a few more times, letting the fat spill through the large holes. Nigel's breathing caught in his throat, shaky fingers hovering above the large holes along his fat thighs. The critic burped loudly, leaning his head back against the booth, and moaned lowly, "T-T-Too Tight..." He whimpered, pawing the large belly sitting on his lap.