Number one, no, I don't like chubby girls.
Number two, I definitely don't like "chubby" girls, who are universally fat sacks of shit encouraged by dead-inside fathers and the desperate yapping of orbiting examples of overexposure to internet porn like yourself.
And finally, Spiderfat here is actually even more grotesque than the typical case.
Open your eyes, look at that fucking flap. It's like she was starved as a child so now she carries her winter store with her. It's like she's permanently auditioning for the climax of Click. It's like she's prematurely constructing a moldering mobile safe space for when happens.
I don't care how many arthropods she's crammed into the one place food escapes from her instead of being inexorably drawn in and converted to lipids. She's got a major case of the fats, and your soppy sad ass, dick in hand, can't change that.
I did. That was my first response. Look at the first pic. Take in the rolling, expansive mass of her bloated belly and cellulite-encrusted thighs the way she takes in hot dogs and Ben & Jerry's.
Feast your eyes on the sprawling, massive results of her feasting her face.
Run your gaze across the trembling, engorged, gelatinesque body that can barely run across its room in search of small animals to use as enemas.
Come on yourself. (You will, undoubtedly, after reading this post, because you seem to be an obesity fetishist.)
I'm not OP, and I'm not some sort of arcane master of eldritchian horrors, either, which you imply by claiming my goal is to summon the festering mountain of flesh that gapes vapidly at us from the pictures OP cursed our eyes with.
It's becoming more likely each passing second that she's lurking, but can't reply, having sat on her keyboard and forged it into metamorphic stone.