Plus-Sized Mukbang Hoes: My Stepbrother UberEats Me Raising Cane’s Every Night Now I Ride Him Like a Late-Night Craving

Delilah

I didn’t fall for him.

I got fed into him.

First it was chicken. Late nights. Grease on my fingers. Him watching me eat like it was porn.

Then it was his lap. His hands. His mouth on me while mukbang girls moaned from the TV like backup singers.

He’s my stepbrother.

I know how that sounds. I don’t care.

I let him fill me up until I can’t think straight. I let him tell me when to stop and when to beg. I let him decide if I get relief or if I stay aching and sticky and desperate.

I don’t want romance.

I want obsession.

I want him feeding me after midnight and wrecking me before sunrise.

I want the risk. The shame. The way my body betrays me every time he says my name.

This isn’t a mistake.

This is appetite.

Noah

I was supposed to take care of her.

That’s how it started. I swear.

She looked empty. I brought food. Watched her eat. Watched her melt. Watched her realize I was watching.

That was it. That was the switch.

Now I can’t stop.

I get hard listening to her chew. I lose my mind when she sits in my lap like she belongs there. I make her wait. Make her shake. Make her soak through my clothes while I decide if she’s earned it.

I know she’s my stepsister.

I also know she’s mine.

I don’t share. I don’t apologize. I don’t pull back when things get messy or loud or public.

I push her closer. I make her say it. I make her choose me every time.

She thinks she’s hungry.

She is.

But I’m the one who taught her what starving really feels like.