"My New Neighbor is So Hot"

Just a quick little piece I wrote inspired by a true story. There's going to be a patreon exclusive coming soon.

Enjoy!

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My new neighbor is so hot.

I mean- like- total smoke show, walks around in athleisure all the damn time kind of hot. She’s the kind of hot person that knows that she’s a hot person and carries herself accordingly, tons of confidence just the right amount of aloof. And again, she clearly works out or just wears sports bras and gym leggings for style.

You’ve seen those legs right? They’re the kind with the thick waistband that covers the lower part of her abdomen, that chunky waistband would be the perfect place to tuck the lower roll of a chunky belly. I want to see her soft gut push the front of her workout pants outward as the upper roll spills over that waistband, a dominating dome of fat. She would look amazing with a muffin top that makes her blush. I want to see the look of embarrassment on her chubby cheeks.

Right now she has an extremely pleasant face, her features are perfect and yet not too perfect. They’re natural. A lot of hot people have hard faces, sharp angles, gorgeous but intimidating. Not her though. There’s just enough softness to them to make her face effortlessly welcoming- inviting, even. Of course, I’d like there to be a bit more softness to those cheeks, and I’d like to invite a doughy double chin to the party. It would be so hot to see her plump apple cheeks blush with self-consciousness. 

Just imagine those first few pounds piling onto her after years of being absolutely perfect- tons of dedication to controlling her appearance and social status through diet and exercise. Thinking about the  hours at the gym that she must have put in to have the body that she has. It makes me wince.

She deserves a bit of a break don’t you think?

It would be irresponsible of me- as a good neighbor- to not encourage a bit of relaxation. Don’t you think?

Self care is just so important nowadays. 

And we’ve all gotta do what we can to help take care of each other. 

And if lifting her up means she’s soon lifting up a big blubbery belly to clean under her spongy fat folds? So be it. If helping her take care of herself means helping her into a larger pants size and turning her toned thighs into thunder thighs big enough to force her to waddle? This is the price of living. 

God, her thighs. You really have to see them. She could probably crack a walnut between her thighs, but I’d settle for it being my head. They are so toned. It’s painfully obvious that she squats, probably more than I do- definitely more than you. She’s got these thighs that somehow say that she’s strong and that she can run fast- powerful thighs ready for explosive speed. I’m sure she could maul me like a tiger, and I wouldn’t do a thing to stop her. 

I’m not sure that I could. 

Her arms look pretty strong too, and I’m not weak. But she- It’s amazing to look at arms that are so strong and yet effortlessly sexy. She’s wiry, not bulky. But when she moves just the right way? I- just- you have to see her get her mail- the way she handles a package. Yeah, those arms look real great holding a package. And now- now I can’t stop thinking about her hands, her beautiful hands, and what they must feel like. 

She probably gives some amazing massages with those strong hands and powerful arms. It would be so hot to get a massage from her, to feel her pining me down and kneading my shoulder muscles. 

But you know what would be even hotter?

If all that muscle went away. If her muscular arms just became soft, weak, pathetic. I’d love to see those sculpted limbs of her turn into a nice plump set of flabby bingo wings. From muscle to mush. I even want to see those strong, confident hands of hers turn into chubby clumsy ones. Wouldn’t that be something?

It would be so hot to turn someone from their peak of physical perfection into a plump powder puff, a helplessly pathetic piggy. I want to reduce a woman so clearly active into a fatty just sitting on her ass. 

Oh! Her ass! How the hell could I have gone this long without mentioning her ass? Her ass is- you may have guessed by now- perfection. It is bounce a quarter off it tight and toned, but it is so pleasantly large. It’s the truth. Squats were God’s gift to us all. She’s got such a big, luscious, powerful looking ass that thing does work. Try not to stare at it when she struts by. I dare you. It’s impossible. That thing is a head turner for sure. 

It’s her best feature- and she has many- many- amazing features- Including her breasts. Did I talk about her breasts yet? Her breasts are the perfect size, perky but plump, and, honestly I try not to look too much lest she catch me staring. 

But she’s always turned around when I get to admire her ass. 

That’s why I know it so well. Those curves are so perfect. They are a marvel, the way they move just enough when she moves to have their own hypnotic rhythm. They are so damn squeezable. I’m sure they’d be rather firm to the touch, but they’re large enough to each be held in one hand with flesh to spare. She could have a picture of her ass hung up in a museum, and I wouldn’t even notice any of the other art. That’s how perfect it is- how hot it is. I just cannot stop thinking about it. It drives me wild with its size, its shape, its- its everything. My hot neighbor’s ass is just the perfectly plump peach. 

And yet. 

I want to watch that peach grow overripe and rotten. 

I want to watch her ass cheeks balloon and sag in defeat. I want to watch that plump but get plumper until those buns of steel at buns of blubber. I want her butt to explode with fat, to become two chunky cheeks that make perfectly plush pillows for me to rest my head on. 

I want to lay down on that bed of flesh and cellulite. 

Just- I just need to see her turned into a weak fat ass with a big fat dumper, I’m talking an ass so large it anchors her to the couch. She needs to be the kind of wide load lard ass that leaves a permanent indentation for her ass to sink in. I want to see a chair- hell a couch- break under her immense weight. 

And then I just want to stuff her full of food until she’s not getting up after she’s spiraled from a fit young hottie into morbid obesity. 

I want to turn her into a big fat pig, a total fatty, my total fatty. 

So that’s exactly what I’m doing. 

It’s started with little things. I left some treats, a housewarming gift. Then, when I decided that was too small I gave her a full basket of goodies which I pretended was from multiple people. And when that was figured out, and I realized she talked to our other neighbors, I apologized and covered my ass by saying I didn’t want to impose on them and figured I’d make them look good. 

Then I smoothed things over with a tray of brownies. 

See, people don’t actually think you’re trying to fatten them up. They might say that. 

“Are you trying to fatten me up?” She asked. 

They never really think that, though, and neither did she. At worst she thought I was being a bit forward and wanted to ask her out on a date. 

But I don’t need a date. 

I just need her to eat. 

And that means I’m perfectly happy to give her food, let her eat it behind closed doors, and then just admire the results when she comes out. 

So I organized a building potluck, something to hold with everybody there as a cover for me, and to ensure that she went home with plenty of leftovers. 

Then I made things for other people on other occasions and made sure it was known to her. From that moment on, I wasn’t just a creep trying to score a date. I was the magnanimous neighbor who loved to make food for people. And if my other neighbor’s wife happened to get a little fatter because of that, bonus for me. 

There was truth to that statement of course, me being the neighbor who loves to give food. If I must say so myself, I’ve gotten to be a pretty good cook. For someone with my proclivities, it comes with the territory. With talents like mine, it would be wrong not to share. 

And, for my purposes, being a home chef is a much more effective way of fattening people. Most neighbors won’t go in for leftover pizza. But people will take it when I’ve made too much chicken Alfredo or spaghetti and meatballs. It’s easy to get people to taste test “new recipes”. And nobody says no to a plate of cookies. 

Or brownies. 

Or a whole chocolate cake. 

Maybe I’ve been pushing things just a little bit, getting a little cavalier. 

But I can’t argue with the results. 

She’s getting softer. Bit by bit. I’ve seen it. Her abs are disappearing. Her thighs have a bit of jiggle when she walks, and that ass- that perfect ass- it’s starting to wobble just a bit more than she would want it to. 

So I’m going to keep going with my little treats, my little tricks to fatten her up. Because it’s very clear to me…

My hot neighbor is going to get so fat. 

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You can read the sequel to this story, "My New Neighbor is So Fat" right HERE.