Sugar free syrup poured slow over my big belly, rubbed in with both hands until it is shining and dripping. I pour it on again, work it into every roll, squeeze and jiggle until I am all sticky and glistening, then taste it off my finger at the end.

White balloon on a little wooden chair, and all of me squishing it. It stays wedged between my thighs while I grab, squeeze and jiggle my big soft belly, then I stand up and squeeze the balloon right against my tummy. It survives the whole thing, I just love on it and squish it.

No talking, just me and a popsicle, filmed close. Slow licks, sucking and little bites, sticky sounds, all the way down to the bare stick. Mouth only, uncut, one take, with the eating sounds turned up close.

No talking, just my belly and a pair of jeans that don't stand a chance. Watch me pull them on standing up, my belly spilling over the waistband, wrestling the button, then giving up and just rubbing. Hands all over my fat belly, over the band and under it, lifting it and letting it plop back down. Fabric sounds, rubbing sounds, belly sounds only.

Shhh. Wife in disguise, sneaking peanut M&M's out of the Halloween stash behind her husband's back. No talking, just close up crunching, candy crushed between my teeth, and every eating sound turned up. My secret snack, your front row seat.

Your BBW feeder wife at her table, building loaded hot dogs right in front of you, every squeeze of the condiments up close. Watch me eat, talk about how full I'm getting, burp, and rub my belly as it fills. I stand up stuffed at the end so you can see what lunch did to me. Uncut, one take, real eating sounds.

My secret snack, caught in one uncut take. Extreme mouth close-up as I work through huge sticky spoonfuls of peanut butter, thick texture, sticky lips, every sound up close. Nothing cut, nothing sped up, just me and the spoon until the jar wins. My customs are open, tell me what I am sneaking next.

Two audio tracks of me talking you through your meal. Track 1, Praise: sweet encouragement, bite by bite, until you're stuffed and rubbing that growing belly. Track 2, Humiliation: the same meal, but I'm teasing you for how greedy you are. Put one on, get your food, and eat with me in your ear. Report your weigh-in after.

Caught me. I was supposed to be good today, but this giant pork burrito had other plans. Watch me sit in my car and devour the whole thing like the greedy piggy I am, bite after bite, until this belly is packed tight. Stay for the stuffed belly rub at the end. Want to pick my next meal? My customs are open.

Two minutes of cardio and EVERYTHING moves. Jumping jacks, running in place, belly bouncing, ass shaking, and me finishing breathless with belly rubs. This body was not built for exercise, boys. Customs are OPEN.

These jeans used to fit. Watch me shimmy, strain, and wrestle the button closed over this belly, then try to actually sit down in them. Spoiler: the button loses. Funeral #1 of many, boys. Customs are OPEN.

Lunch is served. Watch me eat every bite of my chicken and peas, tear into it with my hands, and rub this belly as it rounds out. Stick around for the stuffed finish. Customs are OPEN, next time you pick the menu.