From 4chan I learned of the fetish "inflation",
Embarked on a fortnight of mad masturbation,
And drew up some sketches of my own creation.
I felt that I had a new hunger to feed.
The sight of an oxygen pump makes me swoon
As I think of the flesh I could cause to balloon.
The ideal woman's turgid and round as the moon,
And tethered, ready to float off if freed.
But further desires would soon manifest
In my heart (or my loins); although I'd seen the best
The net had to offer, to myself I confessed:
These pictures were failing to fulfill my need.
I needed to bloat up a girl I could touch.
Would using an air pump be asking too much?
Probably. But over a date (going Dutch)
I had an idea. What if we were to breed?
Over dessert of some cream pies Bavarian
I noticed our viewpoints were often contrarian.
My interest in her was strictly ovarian
So I took her to bed and I planted my seed.
The pregnancy took and she started to swell,
And while I was in heaven, she saw it as hell.
And after the birth, when she shrank, I could tell
That inflation in images was more at my speed.