The thick belch lumbered up from Ron's huge belly, rolling deeply like thunder. He chuckled softly to himself, satisfied at the feel of it and the taste it brought back. Pushing his baseball cap back from his balding pate, he adjusted his glasses, then his crotch, then surveyed the results of his favorite sport. His stomach rose up before him like a massive, hairy hill; he'd been pretty amused to find it had outgrown his shirt, which lay buttonless at his bare feet. Nope, he thought contentedly, his gut was several sizes larger than an hour or so ago, when he had stripped it off his sweat-soaked body. He rubbed a strong and hairy hand over his paunch, ruffling the thick field of dark blonde fur, then scratcheddeeply in the dark pit of his navel. Feeling a tidbit that had escaped his attention, he fished it from its hiding place, eyed it, then shoved the unidentifiable morsel into his mouth and sucked it clean. Ron didn't care what it was, just so long as it found it's way inside his bulging stomach. Reaching next to him, he cracked another brew. It disappeared loudly, trailing fom down his wide chest. Licking froth from his heavy curve of moustache, another belch wallowed up from the depths, loud and wet.
Ron smiled as he felt the meal inside him rearranging. He'd really done it all this time - everything in the refridgerater had gone down, some several items at a time. At one time, he might've felt guilty about being such a pig, but each time he had the urge to satisfy his appetite, Ron couldn't help but keep eating until he had it all inside him. Though his ex-wife had found it disgusting, Ron had taken primitive pride in his growing beerbelly, the way it's round and firm buldge refused to be tamed by any shirt. He scratched the thick stubble on his throat, where it mingled with the swirls of hair on his chest. A rumble erupted below. It was ironic that the only one who ever showed any interest in his hobby had been his nephew, who had always looked up to his big uncle. Ron smiled.
This time had been by far his greediest feeding. Ron had gobbled the leftover barbeque - hamburgers, hotdogs, and the couple quarts of potato salad. Two dozen more ribs were in him than nature had ever intended. He'd swallowed three pies in record time; the ice cream went down seperately. A roast was thawing in the huge darkness below. A gallon of milk, apples, bananas, and oranges with their peels intact had found their way down. The twelve-packs of beer. Yeah, he sighed, it had been one hell of a feast. And dessert had been the best part. He could feel it in his stomach right now. His nephew. Yeah, a live boy, inside his gut.
Now, Ron had never eaten a boy before. He had the idea as the kid was helping feed his uncle. Ron sold the proposition to the boy as he gulleted a four-pound slab of beef, then gulped down the marinade so it ran through his 'stache, down his chest, and over his belly which groaned invitingly as the meat settled in. Ron looked down at the boy, who was staring up at him from beneath the overhang of his stomach. He stifled a monstrous belch, sizing up his nephew and his considerable appetite and suggested the boy be next to go in. Ron told him honestly that it would be a pleasure to have him inside and that he easily had room for one more, no reservation needed. His nephew studied him carefully then, so Ron put on a show of flexing his large biceps, pinning the boy to the wall with nothing but his fat gut. It was easy to see that the boy could comfortably fit inside, so Ron coaxed him further by swallowing an arm-length salmon to prove his promise of a smooth ingestion. Then Ron pounded on his hairy belly and belched up "come in!"...his nephew had laughed at that, and Ron knew he had him then.
So he stripped his nephew down to nothing and greased him up with marinade. Gripping the boy by his ankles, he heaved him into position over his grinning moustached maw. Ron licked his chops, and his biceps tensed. Headfirst the boy went, and Ron slurped him in greedily. His uncle's tounge had rasped wetly along the kid's bare chest and stomach as he was slowly ingested. He giggled, tickled by 'stache and tounge as Ron slurped and gulped him in further. He lay slick and slippery, wrapped in the soft blanket of his tounge and throat. His uncle's wide gullet glistened and undulated before him, stretching below him to accomadate his tasty nephew. Hanging headfirst, bare feet slid like spaghetti through the thick greasy moustache. Ron balanced him at the back for a moment, grinning for what was to come. He swallowed deeply, and the boy eased over the edge and there was no way but down... Gulp. Just swallowed him whole. Ron's gullet was like velvet, pushing and squeezing his small body in waves and the kid moved through his uncle's body slow and easy. He was suspended for a moment at the end, then the pylorus opened and he was pushed inside, coming to rest inside the huge belly at last...
Ron had felt the boy moving deeper into his body, down, down...until there was a groan as his stomach found room for another. He imagined the boy then, lying warm and wet inside a stomach full of beer and food....he'd always told his nephew he could swallow him up in a gulp, and not even belch. Now he was inside his uncle's huge belly, waiting to be digested. There was a rumbling, his ears popped, and the great stomach shook as a rush of air shot upwards...above, Ron took great pleasure in the belch and undid his jeans. Very satisfying.
So he leaned back, belly fat and heavy, Ron sleepy and satisfied. His nephew was stewing in the largest pot around, being kneaded and massaged peristaltically. The best in digestin', Ron thought. He belched again and felt the need to tap the keg. So he rose, belly sloshing noisily before him and made his way to the bathroom. Standing at the bowl, he unbagged his thick cock and scratched his gut while a beer-stream thundered out of him. He gazed at his swaying beargut, feeling it's weight and the slow progression his meal was taking. Wouldn't be much sign of the boy, he thought, not considering his size. No. Ron had promised to take care of him, and that's what he was doing. Making the boy part of a man; he was all Ron's. Biceps and lats, belly and fur. And who would ever know? He'd digested the evidence. Who would think to look inside a pot-bellied uncle, he mused, patting his firm bulge. At least if they did, he'd have room for 'em...
Ron belched pleasantly.
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