Okay, sit yourself up so I can slip between you and the headboard. The massive spill of your doughy flanks becomes framed by warm thighs. I squeeze my legs together, making the flesh at the edges of your belly ruck up, removing any tension from the skin around your belly button and making that flesh achingly soft, like a warm, silky marshmallow. Wiggling my hips to get comfy, I lean forwards against your back, giving you a broad, warm leaning post.

Feels amazing, huh? So if you won’t let yourself indulge in that way, maybe you need someone to make it happen. Someone desperate, who has to make a few people disappear. Picture it: Night out, friend of a friend introduces you to this guy. Charming, bit jumpy. Workman’s hands, nice glasses, fits his T-shirt well. Later, when everyone’s more drunk than you are, they go trawling for a late-night shame feast.

Like, maybe you’ve gone out and wound up getting a bit drunk, having a good time meeting people. Problems happened when a couple who were interested in you went past flirting into heavy suggestion. Maybe you were interested, but they didn’t know that your appetites are linked. By the time I pull up the man has long since been crushed into submission, his meat sloughing from his bones into the pit inside you.