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Cascading mounds of juicy blubber piled up upon one another, creating satisfying rolls of lard thicker than your arm, your torso and more. Lethargic waves of wobbling across her rolls make her a bed of constant lewd movement. Her mass is like that of some whale, any movement she takes is like that of a colossal monument pushing itself forward. Each action an opposite reaction of wobbling, a living jello bowl of lard and mass. One that is unbelievably, STILL, hungry for more.