Chewing the Fat- Part 4

Wolf has big plans for Fox, now that he's grounded, too. The couple that gains together stays together, I suppose. Enjoy!

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"....And so they grounded me! Apparently, I, uh… I was throwing off the station's gravity sensors…" Fox muttered, shifting his weight, sending ripples across his gelatinous body. He was now put on leave— it took the combined force of team Star Fox, and a Cornerian mech division, to get him wedged out of the bay doors. Now, he had taken refuge where all this had begun— Wolf's new apartment, the former hideout of Angus Cromag. It was certainly roomy enough for two enormous, bloated beasts like them— and with a gravity manipulation system installed, they could even stay relatively mobile— for now.

"Well, ain't it any wonder, pup? You got your own orbit at this point!" Wolf sniggered, lifting up one huge, thickly swaddled arm and swatting the upper rim of Fox's oceanic gut, spread out on the floor. "And damn, don't you wear it fine."

"I, uh, heh—" Fox gulped, making his thick jowls wobble as he ran one hand under the heavy overhang of his pillowy chest as it rested languidly atop the crest of his belly. He then glanced up at Wolf; the enormously gluttonous canine was still bigger than him— but before, they had been like a planet and its moon. Now, the gap between them had narrowed significantly. Fox could feel his round, bloated cheeks grow warm as Wolf leaned into him, thick rolls of flab lapping against his own. The vulpine's rust-red pelt was starting to feel stretched in to encompass every roll of flab, from his enormous gut and flabby chest, to thighs wider than some asteroids, and his enormous, bloated rear with so much bulbous fat on them, Wolf had been affectionately been referring to them as Fox's pair of barrel rolls. 

The enormous arwing pilot felt a small thrill run down to his core as he fondled one huge roll of his own flabby lard in his hand, quavering it and sending ripples across his own body, then he spotted what Wolf had in his meaty hands out of the corner of his eyes. "Uh. Wolf. Is… is that a hose?"

"Heh, never could get one past you, could I, McCloud?" Wolf growled, brandishing a feeding tube and funnel. "I got a half dozen kegs worth of… let's call it fuel. Calorie-dense nutritional paste, mixed in with sugar, lard, and everything else I could find that'll put some more junk in yer trunk. It's meant for cryostasis ships, but…" he rumbled richly, openly eyeing Fox's vuluptuous form. "I'm a little tired of being the big one in this relationship. I wanna see how far you can stretch that gut of yours, pup. You still hungry?"

Fox let out a tremulous, nervous laugh that made his whole body quake, the idea of eclipsing Wolf being an oddly exciting thought. "I, uh. I could still eat."