Food For Thought

~*~
Arthur Weasley had turned up to number 4 Privet Drive on a Saturday afternoon, two days before Christmas. He had Apparated into the Dursley\'s living room with a loud crack, startling Vernon, who was seated on his armchair with a cup of tea, watching an afternoon television show on gardening. When Arthur had appeared, clad in his usual rather tattered cloak, his red hair tucked under an aged cap, a scarf around his neck and gloves upon his hands, Vernon had – quite understandably – jolted in his seat, uttering a loud bellowing noise of surprise and sloshing his hot tea over his favourite woolen jumper.

Arthur stood with a grin on his face, looking about the room and the many Christmas decorations that surrounded it. “What a splendid array of decorations, Mr. Dursley!” Arthur exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.

“What the blazes are you doing here?!” Vernon yelled, daubing at his jumper with his handkerchief, his face red with both fury and fright.

Arthur snapped his head in Vernon\'s direction and gave him a rather stern look. “That\'s no way to greet a guest.”

Vernon spluttered and blinked furiously, his pudgy lips pressed into as thin a line as they could be pressed. “A...guest?!” he finally managed in a strained shout. “You are intruding!” Vernon sat forward awkwardly, because of his size, and grunted loudly as he leaned over to place the cup on the side table, then thumped his huge, bulky hands on the arm rests of the armchair and heaved himself up with excessive effort. Once he was standing, he glared at Arthur with his beady eyes narrowed and spat, “Get out of my house!” and threw his chunky arm out to point in the direction of the front door.

Arthur quirked his ginger brows at Vernon. “Goodness gracious me. You need to learn to keep that temper under control!”

Vernon bristled, his eye twitching dangerously and the vein upon his forehead pulsing in a bright, livid purple. “How dare you talk that way to me!” he spat back, swinging his arms forward to swipe at Arthur.

Quick as a flash, Arthur whipped his wand out from under his cloak and pointed it at Vernon, his head held high. Vernon, of course, halted in his tracks and eyed the wand very warily, recoiling slightly. “Mind your manners,” Arthur remarked plainly, then flicked his wand and said in a simple voice, “Locomotor Mortis.” A flash emanated from the end of Arthur\'s wand, and hit Vernon, instantly locking the rotund man\'s legs on the spot.

Vernon\'s eyes widened in shock, and he swayed about, his fat arms flailing and his mouth making silent \'o\' motions. Arthur simply looked on, lowering his wand slowly, a small grin on his face. “There,” said Arthur jovially. “That\'s better, isn\'t it?”

Vernon\'s face was that of extreme bewilderment. He looked down at his feet – or, rather, at his gut, seeing that he could not actually see past it – then back up at Arthur, horrified. “Wh-what h-have you-you done t-to me?” he asked in a terrified voice.

Arthur waved his hand dismissively and pocketed his wand again, chuckling. “Oh, it\'s nothing, Mr. Dursley. Just a little leg locking curse. That\'s all.” He turned away from Vernon to scan the room, adding in a nonchalant voice, “Perfectly harmless.” He unravelled the scarf from his neck and folded it neatly, placing it in his cloak pocket, then kneaded his gloves from his hands and balled them into the same place.

Vernon spluttered more, his brows raising and dropping sporadically, his lips twitching and his double chin flexing like that of a turkey gobbler. “Make it stop!” he exclaimed in a panicked voice, staring in terror at Arthur.

Arthur ignored Vernon, clutched the scruff of his cloak and strolled forward to peer at the Christmas tree, looking at the fairy lights that adorned it. “Eclecktricity is a strange thing,” Arthur remarked in an awed voice. “Very strange thing indeed.”

“What are you doing here?” Vernon wailed in a loud voice.

Arthur snapped his head in Vernon\'s direction, his brow cocked. “Is your wife here? Or that meaty little boy of yours?”

Vernon shook his head wildly. “Christmas shopping,” he managed chokingly.

“Ah.” Arthur smiled. “Splendid!” He turned back to the fairy lights and studied them a moment longer, extending his forefinger and prodding one of the blinking coloured lights quickly. “Anyway,” Arthur continued, turning back to face Vernon with a grin, inhaling briefly. “Mmm, smells like the missus has been cooking. All ready for Christmas, I assume?”

Vernon simply stared at Arthur, sweat breaking out on his fat forehead, trickling down his temples and rolling down his bulbous cheeks.

Arthur wasn\'t really expecting an answer. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to saunter through the living room, peering at different muggle implements and artifacts, his eyes bright with glee. Coming to the kitchen door, he looked over his shoulder at Vernon and pointed at it, saying, “This is the kitchen, I assume?”

Swallowing thickly, Vernon nodded rapidly, his fat neck and double chin flapping.

“Splendid,” Arthur remarked again, and pushed the door open, stepping over the threshold.

Once Arthur was out of sight, Vernon instantly began trying to move his legs, looking down at his gut and wincing in a most panicked manner, his arms going back to flailing. He thrashed about, sweat pouring off him more thickly, and in the midst of his futile seizure to move, Vernon felt his obese body start to totter to the side. Unable to stop himself, he let out a scream as he fell towards the floor, his left arm landing with a resounding crash on the coffee table, his right arm collapsing underneath his huge mound of a body.

In the kitchen, Arthur heard the crash, though made no hurry to race to Vernon to check if he was alright. Instead, he had the fridge open, staring awestruck at the white light within it, prodding his fingers at the temperature knobs and muttering exclamations to himself. After admiring the muggle contraption for a few moments, Arthur then turned his attention to the contents of the fridge, his eyes widening. There was a giant bird that had been cooked and covered in foil. Huge bowls of salads, casseroles, baked goods and deserts lay before him on the shelving. Licking his lips, Arthur first reached for the bird, clutching the giant tray upon which it was perched, and lifted it out of the fridge with a grunt, then staggered towards the living room where Vernon was laying on the floor, sobbing in frustration and sweating like a bush hog.

“Dear me!” Arthur exclaimed as he rounded the sofa, clutching the bird and peering down at Vernon. “How ever did you get down there?”

“I fell over, you freak!” Vernon howled back at him.

“Oh, shame!” Arthur stooped down and set the giant bird on the coffee table then made his way back to the kitchen, ignoring Vernon\'s protesting shouts to be freed and helped up.

Back in the kitchen, he had the fridge door open again and had retrieved two large bowls – one containing a large beef and vegetable casserole, the other containing a cold potato salad – and moved back out into the living room and set them down on the coffee table, then went back to the kitchen again to retrieve yet more bowls of food and bottles of sauce, cartons of yoghurt and a tub of butter.

After several trips to and fro, the fridge had finally been cleared, and all the contents were laid out on either the coffee table or on the floor surrounding it. With the last of the dishes, he had brought out a few desert spoons that he had grabbed from the drainer by the kitchen sink, and dropped them with loud clattering sounds on the wooden coffee table. “There,” Arthur finally said, ignoring Vernon\'s constant whines and shouts. Arthur then pulled his hat off and his cloak, reached into the pocket and pulled out his wand, then tossed the cloak and the hat on the sofa behind him. “Now,” he continued, rolling the wand between his forefinger and thumb, his other hand smoothing down his balding patch on the crown of his head. “Such sumptuous food your wife has cooked!”

“Let me go! Stop this! Let me go! Help me up!”

“Oh, hush,” Arthur chided in a slightly impatient voice. Casually, he flicked his wand and uttered, “Diffindo,” pointing his wand at Vernon. With a loud rip, the robust man\'s clothes ripped apart in one, definitive split, from the scruff of his collar down to the hem of his trousers.

Vernon shrieked and tried to roll on to his back, only managing to flap and wiggle about on the floor like a slug.

“Now, hold still,” Arthur said in a friendly voice, stepping over to Vernon, tucking his wand into his trouser pocket. Bending down, he grasped the partings of the fat man\'s clothes and pulled them back with a quick tug, first the jumper and shirt, then the trousers and huge, cotton boxers. Arthur\'s eyes gleamed as he watched the pink, flabby skin of Vernon Dursley be revealed. He licked his lips feverishly as he rolled the man about with effort, yanking the ripped pants and drawers from underneath the man, then working the ripped jumper and shirt from him.

“Stop it!” Vernon quailed loudly. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” With each retort, he attempted to swipe at Arthur, though all in vain.

“Quieten down, Mr. Dursley,” Arthur spoke plainly, balling the ripped fabric and tossing it away from him, then rolling the fat man on to his back with a loud, exerted grunt. Standing back up, he looked down at the man, appraising the appearance. Vernon looked like a huge, pink worm with hair. His flaccid cock looked minuscule and was very obscured by the corpulent belly that flopped over Vernon\'s middle like a dissolved lump of jelly, and his two enormous, dimpled thighs.

Vernon\'s puffy, red face was screwed up as he sobbed, staring up at Arthur in horror, his hands bunched into fat fists and held tightly against his obtuse chest.

Arthur drew one hand to his cuff and popped the button open, then rolled the sleeve up, repeating the action with the other sleeve. “Well,” he began with a big smile. “Merry Christmas!”

At that, he turned around and looked at the turkey, grasped the foil and yanked it back, revealing the entirety of the huge bird. Digging his fingers into the cooked bird\'s skin and flesh, he gripped a chuck and jerked it hard, peeling away a huge sheet of skin. Underneath, it was oily and greasy, thick and gluggy, and Arthur smiled as he faced back to Vernon.

“Wh-what are you...going to do...to...m-me?” Vernon asked in a wheezy, scared voice.

“Oh, nothing harmful, nothing harmful.” Arthur got to his knees and leaned over Vernon, licked his lips, prised the large man\'s arms from his chest, then slapped the oily side of the turkey skin against it. Uttering a soft moan, Arthur furrowed his brow as he swathed the oily, slick skin over the vast expanse of Vernon\'s massive chest, smothering the man\'s chest in oil and grease. “Ohh, lovely,” Arthur muttered silkily.

Vernon\'s face screwed up as if he were about to cry, his face redder than ever. “Stop that!” he wailed.

“Shh!” Arthur furrowed his brows deeper, as if in deep concentration and watched the way that the turkey skin glided over the rotund man\'s padded, pink chest, increasing the pressure of his strokes. Within Arthur\'s pants, his cock was growing very hard. It was stiffening with each stroke of the turkey skin, making his heart beat faster.

Sitting back on his haunches, Arthur surveyed the oily mess on Vernon\'s chest, then drew the skin to his lips and licked lewdly over the part that he had been rubbing into the man. Closing his eyes, he let his tongue swathe over it liberally, grunting and making lust filled noises as he did so.

Vernon simply stared at Arthur, horrified. Sweat was pouring off him faster, and he fought to try and move again, to no avail.

Flinging the skin behind him, it landing with a wet slap on the curio, Arthur then reached for a spoon and the casserole dish and drew them to him. Removing the cling film that was secured over the Pyrex dish and dropping it to the side, Arthur then dug the spoon in and gouged out a large serving of the food, then set the dish down on the floor next to him. He then leaned over Vernon and angled the spoon towards the man\'s mouth. “Open wide, Mr. Dursley.”

Shaking his head violently, Vernon pressed his lips together hard.

Making a sound of annoyance, Arthur snatched Vernon\'s nose and pinched it tightly, a scream coming from Vernon\'s mouth, and he shoved the spoon in while keeping his grip on Vernon\'s proboscis. Vernon wheezed and spluttered through the hefty mouthful, food specking out as he tried to breathe, attempting to wriggle and worm his way from Arthur\'s grip.

“Eat it, Mr. Dursley,” Arthur said in a friendly tone, pinching Vernon\'s nose tighter.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vernon obediently chewed, opening his mouth every few moments to breathe. At last, he swallowed with a loud glugging sound.

“Good!” Arthur exclaimed, sitting back on his haunches. “Good, good, good!” He spooned a few more mouthfuls into Vernon\'s mouth, each spoonful bigger than the last. There was food dribbling down the fat man\'s face, coating his lips and chin, spittle rolling down with it. Setting the spoon and dish aside, Arthur propped himself forward, placing his hands on either side of Vernon\'s fat head and leaned down. Extruding his tongue, he swathed it over Vernon\'s lips, chin and cheeks lewdly, lapping up every single morsel of food.

Vernon quailed and thrashed about, sobbing and shrieking as Arthur did this. Finally, Arthur sat back on his haunches again, licking his lips and reached for another dish, this time the potato salad. Peeling back the cling film, Arthur took up another spoon and dug into it, lifting out a huge blob of the thick salad. Angling it at Vernon\'s chest, he flung the food on to it, the potato salad landing with a splat, and Arthur repeated this a few times before setting the dish back down.

“Stop this! Please!” Vernon cried out desperately.

“Hush, Mr. Dursley,” Arthur ordered again. He leaned over Vernon and, with splayed fingers, pressed his hands down on the potato salad and squished it into his meaty chest, groaning as he did so. “Ohh, yes,” Arthur breathed, spreading his fingers slowly, moving his hands in slow, deliberate circles to smear the squished food about. Over Vernon\'s flappy pectorals, over his meaty sternum, down his stomach, the fat molding around the shape of Arthur\'s fingers, dimpling into the flesh. “Ohh, yes.”

Arthur spread the potato salad lewdly over the expanse of Vernon\'s chest, over his shoulders and down his upper arms, rocking his hips slowly as he did so, his cock even harder. Sweat had broken out on Arthur\'s forehead from the sheer excitement of it all, smearing and covering such a fat body in food. It was so erotic, so arousing. And the feel of the fat under his hands, the way it swelled and moved fluidly, the way it looked, all pink and fleshy.

Tears were now streaming down Vernon\'s face. He was sobbing loudly, his entire body jiggling and wobbling with the force of his sobs.

Arthur then retrieved a bottle of tomato sauce, and opened the lid, throwing the lid behind him. He held the bottle upside down over Vernon\'s stomach and watched the red sauce ooze out in huge, fat dollops, landing in giant crimson spits over the fat man\'s abdomen. Slamming the bottle on to the coffee table, Arthur then leaned forward and spread his fingers through the thick sauce, groaning yet again. He then swept his hands down so that he passed them over Vernon\'s groin – to which Vernon shouted and sobbed even louder. Grasping the man\'s flaccid little cock in his hand, Arthur scooped up huge dollops of sauce in his other then rubbed it over the entirety of Vernon\'s prick, smothering it in tomato sauce.

Due to the stimulation, Vernon\'s cock stirred and grew erect as Arthur manipulated it, kneading his tomato sauce smothered hands over the stiffness, squelching the sauce around it.

“Stop!” Vernon squeaked.

“Shh.”

“Stop! Stop it! Stop it, now!”

“Oh, do be quiet. I am busy here, can\'t you see?”

Ignoring any further protests and shouts from the man, Arthur sat back on his haunches again and took the tub of yoghurt in his hands. Opening the lid, he scooped his hand in deeply and collected as much yoghurt as he could, then scooted back on the floor. Setting the tub down, yoghurt splatting over the regal carpet, Arthur grasped one of the man\'s huge ankles and hoisted his foot up, resting it on his knee. He then slapped the handful of yoghurt on to it and rubbed it all over Vernon\'s foot. He made sure to dig the thick, white substance in between Vernon\'s toes and over his ankle, until the entire foot was covered.

Vernon sobbed and howled all the while, balling his fists and dashing them to his mouth, biting into his fleshy knuckles. He was now beyond protesting, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Arthur knead the yoghurt into his foot.

Once the large, swollen foot was covered, Arthur looked down at it wantonly and licked his lips. He then leaned down as he grasped Vernon\'s ankle and drew the foot up to his lips. Extruding his tongue, he licked over the thick, white yoghurt, grunting. Over the bridge of Vernon\'s foot, then down the side over his ankle, Arthur moved his tongue, then flexed Vernon\'s massive foot back and swathed his tongue underneath the foot, over the ball of it. “Mm, you taste good, Mr. Dursley,” Arthur exclaimed in a husky voice, then parted his lips and wrapped them around Vernon\'s big toe, sucking at it, licking in between the crevice of the toes.

Vernon squealed and bit his fists harder, wanting so badly to move his legs, to kick Arthur, but was still unable to do so, his legs still being locked. “Stop it,” he whimpered in the smallest of voices.

Arthur ignored him still, now licking in between each toe and suckling the yoghurt out from between them and groaning loudly, almost orgasmically. He was now so hard; so incredibly hard. He wanted to bury his face into Vernon\'s corpulent arse, into his wide, wobbly belly, smother himself in the man\'s fat, whilst licking and eating food from it.

At last, he cleaned Vernon\'s foot with his tongue, then sat back, sweating and breathing fast and shallow. He grasped Vernon\'s knee and propped it up, groaning and grunting loudly, then did the same to the other leg until the fat man\'s legs were bent and spread wide. Looking down, he could see the man\'s buttocks pooling out on the floor like huge, massive blobs of solidified milk. Arthur then scooted in, spreading his knees and holding Vernon\'s legs open with his knees pressed against those huge limbs. Licking his lips, he lunged for the apple pie and snatched it in his hand, drawing the foiled dish to him and scooping his hands into it.

A huge pile of pie collected in his hand, Arthur dashed his other hand to Vernon\'s buttocks and prised the sweaty crack of the cheeks open, spreading his fingers to hold the meaty, flabby cheeks open, then brought the clump of pie in his other hand down and dug it into the crevice between Vernon\'s buttocks, wiggling his fingers and swathing the pie over the man\'s hole. “Ohh, yes,” Arthur breathed, biting his lip and panting excitedly. “Ohh, yes. Ohh, yes, indeed!”

“No!” Vernon croaked. “No, please!” Vernon tried with all his might to writhe away, to clench his huge buttocks, to no avail.

Arthur continued to finger his hole with the pie squishing and meshing into it. He stared down at what he was doing, a rabid look in his eyes, and after a few moments of spreading the pie over the man\'s sphincter, Arthur then scooted back and dived his face down, parting Vernon\'s cheeks wider, and buried his face into them.

The man smelt of sweat and apple pie, and the vastness of the massive, flappy cheeks simply engulfed Arthur\'s small by comparison face as he swam into the mounds of flesh. “Mmmmreegh! Mmmmneerrrgh nnnerrrgh!” he groaned into Vernon\'s buttocks, nudging and wedging his face in further until his nose pushed up against Vernon\'s hole. Arching his face up, Arthur then poked his tongue out and jabbed hungrily at Vernon\'s anus, flicking his tongue about frantically like a thirsty dog lapping desperately at water. Scooping the chunky, mashed pie on to his tongue, he continued to lick and sweep his tongue about in circular motions, almost literally eating Vernon\'s anus.

“Aaaah! Aaaah! Stop it! AAAAH!” Vernon screamed, his entire body tensing up and his teeth sinking harder into his fleshy knuckles.

“Mmmmmeeeerrrgh! Mmmnnnnneeerf! Mmmmerrrg!” was Arthur\'s response as he licked harder and deeper, scooping out the pie greedily until he could taste the salty, sweaty tang of Vernon\'s rim.

Within his trousers, Arthur\'s cock strained and pulsed frantically, desperate to be released and to be stroked or submerged into Vernon\'s ample body. Arthur was getting frantic, and the way that Vernon was squirming, screaming and crying, accompanied with the taste of his anus and the way that his buttocks simply smothered Arthur\'s sweaty face was so arousing.

At last, Arthur pulled away from Vernon and sat back, panting and wheezing, looking at Vernon\'s red face. “Ooh, god, you are lovely,” Arthur breathed, snatching at his own cock and kneading it within his trousers. “So fat, so delicious.”

At that, he popped his trouser buttons open and the zip, then got to his knees and forced the pants, white briefs included, down his hips and thighs, revealing his pink, turgid prick to Vernon. The tip was glistening with arousal, and it throbbed hard. Arthur ran his fingers up and down his cock briefly, hissing in pleasure, then lunged to the coffee table and snatched the tub of butter. Scooping his fingers in, he retrieved a giant blob of yellow butter, then slapped it on to his cock, liberally smearing it all over the organ until it was caked in melted butter.

Vernon watched in horror, tears streaming down his face, as Arthur lubed his cock with the spread, then scooped his hand back in and scraped out another huge blob. He dashed his hand down to Vernon\'s hole and slapped the butter on to it, Vernon quailing and thrashing on the floor, and Arthur rubbed the butter in until it was melted.

“So lovely,” Arthur breathed as he landed his hands on either side of Vernon\'s huge, worm-like body and lowered himself down.

“Get off me!” Vernon squealed in terror, knowing what was going to happen next.

“So...tasty! So...fleshy!” Arthur continued over Vernon\'s vociferations, supporting himself on one hand, his other hand grasping his buttered cock. Scooting his knees in, he aimed the head of his prick against Vernon\'s licked out, butter-smeared hole.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

Vernon\'s protests went ignored, and Arthur rammed his hips forward and slid his cock between the huge cheeks of Vernon\'s buttocks, mashing it into the gooey, slimy mass of melted butter. The head of his prick hit the entrance to Vernon\'s spasming hole, and he forced his prick in hard, Vernon screaming. The lubrication of the butter aided Arthur\'s hard shaft into the tight sphincter, and he forced through the clenching of Vernon\'s hole, past the ripples of muscles that protested against the invading organ.

Arthur pushed in until he was fully sheathed within Vernon\'s huge, massive body, and he let out a groan as he began to thrust to and fro. Once a rhythm was established, Arthur squished in and out of Vernon\'s anus, and threw his face down on to the huge man\'s potato salad and tomato sauce covered chest, licking it lewdly, lapping up the mashed food.

Vernon was positively screaming and crying. Tears were running down his cheeks, and his knuckles were a livid red from where his teeth were gouging into them. He whimpered and screeched noises of disgust, pain and horror as Arthur impaled himself into Vernon\'s cavity.

Swallowing loudly as he licked the food from Vernon\'s chest, Arthur thrust harder, his cock making loud squelching and squeaking noises as it rubbed within Vernon\'s anus. His skin slapped hard against the corpulent man\'s thighs and his balls nutted against Vernon\'s butter and apple pie coated perineum as he slammed into him, groaning and grunting, licking up the food. “Ohh, god, you taste so goooood,” Arthur cooed between licks, then buried his face into the flesh of Vernon\'s chest and stomach, as if trying to drown in the man\'s fat.

Vernon continued to scream as he was invaded, his fat body jolting harshly each time his prostate was touched, his hard but otherwise entierly disinterested cock jumping with the sensation.

Arthur was now very near to climax, and he grunted louder as his cock squished in and out, huffing and panting, his face red with effort and excitement. After a few more thrusts, and a few more avid licks and nibbles to the food covering Vernon\'s chest, Arthur uttered a choked cry and rutted up hard into Vernon as he came, spilling his seed deep into Vernon\'s butter and pie besmirched hole. Arthur thrust and pummeled until he could move no more, until he was spent. He then flopped his head down with a loud smack on to Vernon\'s chest, panting heavily while Vernon sobbed.

For a moment, Arthur lay there, listening to Vernon sob and feeling the way the fat man\'s chest rose and fell with labored breaths, Arthur running his hands in amongst the remaining food over Vernon\'s belly.

“Now, now, Duddikins! You can have this now, and that on Christmas Day,” Aunt Petunia was heard saying in her loud, boisterous voice outside.

Arthur instantly pushed himself up and scrambled to his knees.

“But I want it now!”

“Well...we\'ll ask your father.”

Arthur staggered to his feet and grabbed his trousers from around his ankles, then yanked them up, hurriedly fastening the button and the fly.

“I. Want. It. Now!” Dudley was heard screeching, a faint repetitive thud of the large boy\'s foot stamping in tantrum.

Arthur snatched his cloak and slapped his hat on his head.

“I said, we will ask your father!” A key was heard being inserted into the lock.

Arthur snatched up his wand and gave a quick glance around the room, oblivious of the food all over his face and shirt. Pointing the wand at Vernon, he hissed quietly, “Finite Incantatum!” Instantly, Vernon was released from the hex, and Arthur added in a hurried, hushed voice, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Dursley.” Then, with a loud crack, he suddenly Apparated from the room, leaving Vernon laying on the floor.

The door opened and Aunt Petunia and Dudley walked into the hall, the door closing behind them, Dudley still whining at his mother. Vernon slowly rolled over, still crying and sobbing, food everywhere, and heard the door to the living room open.

“I said, Duddikins, that we will ask your fath-- VERNON!”

“Petunia!” Vernon wailed at his stunned wife, his son staring from behind the skinny woman at the huge, naked, food smothered man. “Help me!”

Petunia rushed to Vernon after surveying the mess a moment, a look of horror and disgust on her pinched face. “Whatever happened?” she screamed.

~The End~