“I can’t let him…” Andrew moaned, his mouth sticky with blueberry juice. He wriggled and wrenched, but the Milkman had his arms bound tightly. He was too strong.
“Keep struggling,” he grinned. His cock fell neatly in between Andrew’s blue cheeks. Andrew’s belly was squished up against the table. He was still swelling, filling up with blueberry juice, but the Milkman pushed his face into the pie. “…and keep eating.”
Suddenly it hit him. Andrew pushed his face deeper into the pie, smearing it in his face, but inhaling pastry like precious oxygen. His belly grew even larger. He ate the pie next to it, and the next and the next…
“That’s it…” the Milkman purred. He fucked Andrew’s cheeks like a pair of titties. Each was basketball-sized, sloshing with juice. “Oh, dude…you ass is leaking…”
A warm trickle of juice dripped from Andrew’s buns, slicking up the Milkman’s cock, “Ugh, this is heaven!”
“Keep eating…” Andrew was on his twentieth pie.
“I’m going in,” the Milkman moaned. “Ready or not—“
Bump.
“What the fuck did I bump into?”
“It’s the wall.”
“The fuck…oof!” Andrew’s body had swelled so much that he had pinned the Milkman to the wall. His belly was the size of a mattress and still growing. “Let me out!”
Andrew kept eating. The table bent under the strain. His arms were so pudgy and thick that he could barely grab the pies. He was still expanding from the last twelve pies he’d eaten, but the rest were out of reach. He nudged them with his tennis-ball fingers. “Come on! Come on…”
The Milkman was enveloped in Andrew’s ass. “You think this’ll stop me?” Suddenly Andrew felt something knocking at his back door.
“Oh…ohh…” he squeaked. “Oh!” The Milkman was going deep; Andrew’s juice-filled anus was slippery enough to accept it. Andrew’s giant body shuddered. His growth was slowing. He only filled half the room.
Suddenly the table snapped under Andrew’s twenty gallon man-boobs. The pies slid right down into his face. He inhaled them like a cloud.
Andrew could feel all four walls pressing against his body, turning him into a cube. The Milkman was in his ass crack, getting smaller and smaller, squeezed tightly between his ass cheeks so he couldn’t move, his prick stuck inside Andrew. Andrew was panting and sweating juice, turning purple from the pressure, blueberry tears dripping down his beanbag-chair cheeks.
The Milkman, gurgling in blueberry juice, cried out “Still…totally…worth it—“
Boom! The Milkman exploded into a cloud of bits and bytes. Andrew poofed back to normal.
“Secret mini-boss defeated: nice job, Nancy.”
“Shut up.”
“What crawled up your ass and died?” the Simulator said smugly. “I know, bad joke…couldn’t resist, though.”
“Ugh…”
“You got an extra life, though: ate 100 pies. Not bad…” she added. “Where do you want to go next?”