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Ron stuck out his tongue and ran it up from my chin to my forehead, coating me in saliva as he purred, “You’re delicious, dear. His thickening cock rubbed against my ass through our pajamas. “You’re so gross,” I scolded him to try to cloak my desire. The warm, wet air from his belly flooded my lungs and clang to my face, coaxing an unbidden moan between my lips. “I just do that because it makes you horny,” Ron grinned and squeezed my ass in his thick fingers. “Which reminds me,” he said before leaning forward and letting his mouth gape open in front of my face as he let out an enormous, pungent belch. “You ate half the food off my plate too,” I teased. His shirts all stretched tight around a solid gut where every pound of fat on the man’s body seemed to gather. He had a generic sitcom dad sort of face, but he otherwise stood out, towering nearly a foot over me when we stood side-by-side, with broad, muscled shoulders. It was in these moments, when we were closest, that I felt most dwarfed by the man’s sheer mass. I smiled and slid into his lap, hugged against his gut with my hands planted on his firm, muscled chest. Ron raised his hand from my shoulder to stroke my chin as he said, “It’s easy when I’m married to such a good cook. “How can you still be hungry? We just had a huge dinner!” I exclaimed, half stunned and half awed.
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His stomach let out a long, low growl and his smile turned smug. He took a deep breath through his nose, closing eyes and smiling, as my fingers caressed him. I scooted down beside him, his arm falling from the back of the couch to squeeze around me, and rubbed his round belly through his shirt. “You already ate all the ones I baked for you,” I pointed out with a chuckle. We sat on the couch, It’s a Wonderful Life on the TV, a tree circled with finely-wrapped gifts, and a crackling fire on the hearth. “You’re not leaving out milk and cookies for Santa?” Ron asked incredulously.