FC Punk
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Hearing
🕑 Added 2021-04-18 09:51:26 +0000 UTCHearing
By FC Punk
There, can you hear her?
My wife?
Her snoring keeps me up. She sleeps with her mouth wide open and the noises that come out of her mouth...are like heaven to me.
I worked very hard on her, over the course of four years she's doubled in size. Her massive weight gain provides me with many pleasant sounds.
Her nose twitches and for a moment her snoring increases in volume. It's loud enough you would think the TV was on. It's nearly impossible to get a lick of sleep and eventually I do just sleep on the couch. She understands why and finds it a kick I can't handle my SSBBW wife's snoring.
I do try and hold out, I even try and make a game out of it. See how long I last.
Suddenly the snoring stops and she momentarily stops breathing.
She jerks back awake and looks over at me in gasping shock.
We both find this part of her morbid obesity to be utterly fascinating her sleep apnea. Being the piggy she is she declares it's time for a two AM snack. She then makes those other sounds I told you about.
Grunting, she makes these deep guttural grunts like she's lifting something heavy, which she is, it's her. I hear the bed creak, she's broken one before. Heaving and hoeing her grunts sound masculine.
When she's seated up she then groans again and gets to her feet. I can hear the littlest bit of air leave her when her full weight settles on her legs. The foot steps are loud and just like the bed the floor creaks. I know this is an old house and there are times I worry about the floor collapsing under her weight like in What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Each step shakes the house's foundation and the pictures on the dresser shake.
Even her fat, her wonderful undulating, gelatinous, quivering, delicious blubber, makes noises. I can hear the ruffling and shoveling of her thighs. The sides of her excess flesh brush against the door.
I get out of bed, ready to assist her. Just like everything else each step moans under the intense burdensome weight stomping on it. Down on the ground she demands something chewy and savory like bacon and fried potatoes.
The twin frying pans are sizzling, the fat is frying. Fry the potatoes in bacon grease. Snap and crackle goes the bacon.
Clank, the plate lands in front of my land whale and I hear her gorge. Her lips smack, she chews with her mouth open. In the dead silence of the early morning I can hear the chewing of the bacon. She wheezes while she eats, gasping for breath while she stuffs herself with more fatty food.
I hear her fart, it's moderately deep in tone. There is a sigh of sheer pleasure when she's finished.
A deep masculine belch.
I hear the words that she is done and we prepare to go back up the stairs. I follow behind her, hearing how hard she grips the railing. I hear the flatulence come from her and her guilty apology.
I hear the bed moan once more from the added weight.
We go in bed and cuddle.
I listen to her heart and how fast it's beating.
It's beating out of time.
