“Caleb, honey, don’t give me that look, now- remember you promised?” The coyote’s voice carried that mock-hurt tone, inflected a bit too heavily as the warm, spicy aroma of gingerbread still settled around him. “The childrens’ summer camp has their big play tomorrow, and I promised everyone you’d be starring in one of the biggest roles. Just five more takes, so I know you have your lines down.”
Her paw rubbed over the strap to Caleb’s overalls, along the top of where one pillowy-plump moob began to round out, forming a crease even through the taut, drum-tight denim that clung so snug to outline every fattened, overindulged curve of the fox’s portly figure. A stuffed groan of protest huffed from Caleb’s muzzle, the aftertaste of three entire sheet pans’ worth of gingerbread men lingering on his tongue.
“Sweetheart, we’ve gone through this twenty times, now; last I checked, the Gingerbread Man wasn’t exactly, y’know… Shakespeare.” Caleb fidgeted in the lazy boy, a blush heating up the front of his cheeks when he felt his lovehandles pressing against the armrests, splaying his elbows just a few inches out of their reach. His arm lifted to grasp the front of the armrest, struggling against the formidable bulk of a belly that rounded out to claim the real estate of his entire lap. His upper arm strained against the confining sleeve of his tee shirt like a bratwurst in a too-small skin, and his progress was instinctively halted when he heard the too-familiar sound of seams and stitching stretched beyond tolerance.
The coyote’s paw pressed against his collarbone, or rather where he supposed it would be, as all he could feel pressing back against her palm was padded softness, holding him back down into the plush comfort of the recliner. “It’s your big scene! The climax of the story! You’re a writer, and you know how important the climax is for a story to come together, right?” Her paw lifted another gingerbread man to toddle it down his muzzle, holding it right in front of his nose. Its image blurred and doubled, as the red icing smile and two green dotted eyes danced, unfocused in front of his gaze. “Now come on, snap goes the hungry fox’s jaws around the gingerbread man…”

Thanks again to  rakko for this- I've always to draw Sandra taking full advantage of her fat fox to gleefully re-enact her favorite scene of her favorite childhood bedtime story over, and over again... who knew nostalgia could be so fattening?