Yeah, being a feeder is nice and all, but being the meal itself is even better.
The gurgles, grumbles, and groans of your partner’s packed guts. The stuffed little moans and half-belches of satisfaction from your predatory feedee. The inevitable transformation of their firm, taut, bloated belly into a plump, plushy, sagging dome of sloshy, squishy goodness after a few tummy rubs and a long nap. The thick, warm layers of jiggling lard packed upon their frame once your sludgy body has been thoroughly churned and processed.
Everything there is to love about stuffing and feeding is practically doubled when vore gets involved, and I will die on this hill.
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