Tbh, this is truly my hottest stuffing yet—between the snug squeeze of the pregnancy belt, the multiple angels, my prominent FUPA, and the sheer mass of food, it’s just fucking hot. I wore my pregnancy belt today after feeling that familiar dull ache in my hips; the belt does wonders, gently lifting and taking some of the pressure off my joints, almost like it's holding me together just enough to keep going. I’m stuffing myself with a mix of Ikea meatballs and Taco Bell—yeah, it's a weird combo, but my cravings didn’t care today. I keep pushing myself further, reaching a point where I’m so full that even breathing feels tight. But that’s what I love—the intensity, the fullness that borders on pain yet feels so indulgent. I give my swollen belly light rubs, feeling the stretch and tautness under my hands, a sweet kind of discomfort that I savor. A few burps escape my lips, offering me a little relief, making just the tiniest bit of space to fit in more. Each time I dip my Crunchwrap in warm nacho cheese, my favorite guilty pleasure, I can’t help but moan at the sheer bliss of it. The grease and oil from all this food work their way down my throat, coating it as they settle deeper into my belly, making me feel even fuller, heavier, like I’m sinking into my own indulgence. I feel every ounce of that weight, every bit of pressure pushing out from my core, the perfect way a pig should be—full, satisfied, and delighting in the gluttony of it all. I shift myself onto all fours, feeling the food settle and spread, each movement making me hyper-aware of just how packed I am. The heaviness has me teetering, eventually making me to plop down on the floor, the weight of my body pulling me down in the most delicious way. The food has me grounded, pinned to the floor by my own overindulgence. My belly is swollen and heavy, gloriously stuffed beyond capacity, the perfect way to end a feast made for a true hedonist. **** Clip features: stuffing, pregnancy belt, light burps, FUPA, bush peaking out, fat chat