#femalefatadmirer

[fatdaddy2pointo]

I just need to be fed and fucked right now.

#ssbhm #feedist #feeder #hornyaf #thirsty

#cupcakes #cookies #bellyworship #femalefatadmirer #hotgirlsfatguys

[bigfatbob4you]

Part nine, fatty love. #FatHearts #FatValentines #SSBBW #SSBHM #Fat #FFA #FemaleFatAdmirer

[alternative-ffa]

Over twenty years ago, I read a story on a fat fetish site. The author is unknown to me, and it's been so long, I'm not sure how to search for it.

I've decided to re-write it in my style. It's certainly not the same, and my memory is going to write it differently. But, mainly, it is an homage to one of the stories that inspired me to write my own, decades ago.

Feel free to post a link to the original in the comments if it rings a bell to you!

------

I hate grocery shopping, and I had put it off for a while - until I couldn't anymore. I didn't want to drive all the way to the big grocery store considering I really just needed basics, so I drove down the street to the corner store. It was late, and I was glad to get there before closing time. It was completely empty, except for one employee manning the register. He sat on a stool behind the counter, wearing sweats that looked awkwardly tight on him. I found the tightness extremely intriguing, being able to see all the rolls of fat on his body. I almost couldn't concentrate on shopping. I grabbed a few essentials then got to the counter. He put down the book he was reading and without a word began to ring my items up. As he did this, an apple fell behind the counter. He grunted with annoyance as he lifted his fat body off the stool. Leaning to the floor to pick up the apple a loud rip could be heard. His face turned red. I heard him swear under his breath. He stood, and noticed that his sweatpants had ripped. I could see the fat of his rear and thighs bulging through the hole in his pants. His eyes closed and he swore again.

I asked, "is everything okay?"

He contunued to look annoyed and said, almost to himself, "well, I can't fucking get on the bus like this... the store is closing, and... fuck... I don't have a change of clothes."

I don't know what was going through my mind at the time, but I had a sewing kit at home, and I lived down the block. I spoke, "I can fix it for you. My car's outside, if you don't mind going to a strangers house. I'll sew it up for you."

He had a combination of suspicion and relief on his face and he said, "well, it seems that's my only choice. Do you mind waiting for me to close the shop? I also have a few grocery bags myself that I was going to bring home, could you fit them?"

I nodded and said, "no problem, take your time. I'm parked on the street."

He asked, "would you mind pulling in the back? I don't really want to go out the front door like this." And he motioned to the huge rip in his sweatpants exposing his fat ass and thighs.

I understood and said, "oh yeah, I'll just drive to the back then."

He looked grateful and said, "I'll be out shortly, thank you."

I drove my small SUV down the alley to the back of the store. I parked and lit a cigarette as I waited for him. After a few minutes, the lights inside the shop turned off, then I saw him waddling out of the back door. He had a few grocery bags hanging on his left arm, as he locked the back of the shop.

I exited my car and walked over to help. He waved me away and said, "I've got it. Where should I put these?" He motioned to his shopping bags.

I opened the trunk and said, "you can put them here."

He grunted in acknowledgement, then placed the bags in the back and closed the trunk. He waddled to the passenger door and opened it. Pausing for a minute, he looked at the seat then said, "I... I'm not sure I'm going to fit."

I replied, "well it's a short drive, it might not be comfortable, but it'll only be a minute."

He seemed to agree, then faced his left side to the open door. He grabbed the top handle as he shifted himself towards the seat. He seemed to jiggle more than I expected, and I couldn't help but stare at his exposed flesh, as his fat rear wiggled into the seat. He let out a frustrated breath once he had sat, then he grabbed the fat of the side of his belly and pulled it towards him to get the door shut. I don't think I took my eyes off his body for even a second.

Once the door was shut, I reached to the gear shift. My hand immediately landed on a soft roll of fat. I jerked back and he tried to look down to his left. Realizing his fat was covering the gearshift, he lifted up the roll and said, "I'm sorry. Try it now."

I was able to wiggle my hand under the fat and put the car into drive. Luckily it was a quick trip, as I worried that his fat might press the button and accidentally shift it into neutral or reverse as we traveled. He seemed to be aware of this, and had his body leaned towards the right, pushing his weight into the door to avoid the center console.

My place was just a few minutes away. We arrived swiftly, I put the car into park, and then exited the driver's seat. The man from the store had opened his door, but was struggling to exit. He wiggled his body towards the opening, but then fell back. He tried again, and again... slowly jiggling himself closer and closer to the edge of the seat. Finally he was able to put his feet on the ground, and he used the handle to heave his weight out of the car. I thought to myself, "thank God it's late and my neighbors aren't seeing this."

After all, here's a morbidly obese man with his ass hanging out of the rip in his pants struggling to get out of my car.

He had gotten out though. He closed the passenger door, then said, "I have some perishables in my bags, do you mind keeping them in your freezer in the meantime?"

I said, "oh, of course."

Then we both grabbed his bags and went into the house.

He had a very distinct waddle, his belly and rear end wiggling side to side as he tried to walk. I wanted to watch it, to stare at his fat body trying to move, but I didn't want to be rude, so I went ahead of him.

I guided him and his grocery bags to the kitchen. We placed them on the counter, then I went to look through them to figure out what needed to be in the refrigerator and what needed to be in the freezer. To my surprise the bags contained only ice cream. It looked like there was gallons of it. I glanced at him and he looked embarrassed. He said, "I, well... I have a sweet tooth."

I didn't want to stress him out, so I didn't say anything. I opened the freezer to find that there was no way I could fit all of his ice cream. I didn't say anything about it, just grabbed each pint and placed the ones I could fit into the freezer.

Two remained on the table and I had to say, "that's really all that is going to fit."

He replied, "that's okay. At least we got most of them in."

I don't know what came over me, but I said, "I mean, we shouldn't let these go to waste. We can have them while I sew up your pants."

He seemed excited about the ice cream, but nervous about the pants. He asked, "about that... what am I going to wear while you're fixing them?"

I thought for a second. Then said, "you could sit on the couch and I'll give you a blanket to put over your lap?"

He agreed and we walked to the living room. I grabbed a quilt from one of the couches as he untied his sweatpants and let them drop to the floor. My intention was to hand him the quilt while I looked away to give him some semblance of privacy. But, obviously, I couldn't avoid looking at him. The fat of his belly hung out from under his sweatshirt, his thighs were so huge that they forced his legs apart, and I saw the rolls of thigh fat that practically covered the indents of where he knees were.

Thank God he didn't notice me staring. He lowered himself gently onto the couch and took the quilt to cover himself. His sweatpants were still at his ankles, and he tried to lean over enough to pull them off his legs entirely, but couldn't reach.

I took the initiative. I said, "I've got it."

Then gently took each leg off, guiding them over his sneakers.

I placed them on the chair so I could go get my sewing kit from upstairs. Before I reached the staircase, he gently reminded me of the melting ice cream. I turned quickly towards the kitchen and said, "I'll be right back!"

I grabbed both pints and two spoons. I had no intention of having any of it, but figured that it might make him more comfortable if he thought I was going to have some as well. I handed him a pint and a spoon, then placed the other pint on the table next to him.

I said, "I'll be right back!"

Then ran my way up the stairs to find the sewing kit. I loved being near such a fat man, so I rushed to grab what I needed so I could get back downstairs to him.

It was only a minute or so, but he was already digging into the ice cream. He noticed me staring. His mouth was full as he said, "... well, it's melting quicker than I thought..." As if he needed to explain his gluttony.

I wanted to encourage him and say, "oh go ahead, eat as much as you can. It's so sexy."

But I nodded instead. Almost disappointed in myself for not speaking up about how gorgeous I found him to be.

He continued to dive into the ice cream. I saw some dripping from the corner of his mouth. His fat hand reached up and he wiped his mouth with the back of it. Then looked at me as if he didn't know what to do. I immediately said, "oh, let me get some napkins!"

I grabbed some from the kitchen, then gave them to him. He burped and thanked me. The burp seemed to embarass him, but it excited me.

I almost didn't want to fix his pants. I literally had my dream man in my living room, stuffing himself with ice cream, belching every few minutes like a glutton. It was heaven.

I did promise him that I would fix them though, so I sat next to him on the couch and began to thread the needle I'd be using to sew them up. They almost seemed like a blanket themselves. I'm a small woman, so they draped across my lap almost enveloping me with the fabric.

He continued shoveling spoonfuls of ice cream in his mouth, as I sewed up the ripped pants. Only a few minutes passed until he had finished the first pint. He placed the empty container on the table and motioned to the second one. I mean, I had brought out a second spoon, so perhaps he thought I wanted some of it. He asked, "do you mind?"

I nodded no, and he tried to reach for the second pint. He grunted as he tried to reach over his belly for it. So I grabbed it for him. He belched after having bent down, and said, "thank you."

We both remained on the couch: him shoveling more ice cream down his throat, and me desperately trying to pay attention to sewing up his pants instead of watching his impressive and sexy gluttony.

I heard his huge belly gurgling as he ate. I continued to sew, but kept glancing his way. As he stuffed himself I noticed his sweatshirt rising, exposing more of his stretchmark-ridden belly. I tried to be subtle, but was given away when I accidentally pushed the needle into my thumb. I shouted, then put my thumb to my mouth, cleaning the little drop of blood.

At this point, he definitely realized I had been watching him instead of the needle. He put the spoon in the container as if done eating and said, "I'm sorry."

I finished up the stitch I was on, then said, "no, that was my bad, you don't need to stop."

He smiled, grabbed the spoon, then asked, "so, you're sure you don't want any?"

I nodded, "oh, I'm good, you can go ahead and finish it."

He seemed relieved, and continued to shovel it into his mouth.

Only a few more minutes passed and I was done sewing his pants. I almost didn't want to let him know I was done. I was tempted to feign sewing as if I was still working on them, just so I could continue to watch him eat.

But, I was finished with them, so I folded them in my lap and placed them on the chair next to me.

With his mouth full of ice cream, he mumbled, "are they done?"

With disappointment that he didn't pick up on, I said, "Yup, all fixed."

He burped. Then placed the second empty pint on the table. A moment passed and he looked at the two empty pints of ice cream with a sense of disappointment in himself. He groaned quietly and said, "I can't believe I just ate all that." As if he didn't eat like that all the time.

He motioned to his pants and said, "I'll get these on and get to the bus."

I wanted him to stay. I wanted to tell him he was beautiful and that I wanted to see if he could eat all the ice cream he brought - not just the two pints that didn't fit in the freezer. But that would be weird, right? So I grabbed his pants and handed them to him.

He put his feet into each pant leg, then he tried to stand. He belched again with the movement. He said, "excuse me."

I smiled. I just couldn't help it.

He tried to stand. He wiggled himself to the end of the couch and placed his right hand on the arm of it, trying to get up. He grunted with each thrust upwards until he was on his feet. He pulled the pants up as much as he could, then realized his belly was too bloated to fit them.

They had rested on his belly originally, so tucking them under his stomach was not an option. I heard him say, "oh shit." Under his breath.

I asked, "is everything okay?"

He paused for a moment before replying. Then he stuttered, "I, uh, I don't want to trespass further, but I think I've outdone myself. They wont fit over my belly." After a pause, he said, "I can't believe this. I'm so sorry. I'm probably gross to you."

I finally said what I had been thinking this whole time, "oh no. Actually it's quite the opposite, I think you're incredibly handsome..."

For a second he looked offended, as if he thought I was lying to him. But he looked me in the eyes. His facial expression changed to one of slight surprise and he asked, "really?"

I stood up with him. I took his hands in mine. Just holding the huge fat hands in my small ones was such a pleasure. I gestured for him to sit back down. He didn't question it, and lowered his body back on the couch. It groaned under his weight.

I remained standing and said, "there's still quite a few more pints of ice cream in the freezer..."

He smiled at the suggestion

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory #feedingstory #female feeder #femalefeeder #female ffa #femalefatadmirer #female fat admirer #fatfantasy #fat fantasty #obese #obese belly #obeseman #obese man

[alternative-ffa]

A quick story intro. Who knows what will happen? ;)

The dark burgandy loveseat was the only piece of furniture in the expansive parlor that was large enough to fit him.  He had his cane in his hand and waddled his way over to it, very aware of the spreading silence of the guests as they watched such an obese man try to walk. He felt the heat of embarrassment flush his fat cheeks, but refused to look up and make eye contact with anyone. He hoped, once he was seated, that the negative attention would end and the guests would go back to their individual conversations.

He reached the loveseat and began to lower himself into it. There was no graceful way to do it, and once gravity took over, he landed hard on the cushions. People glanced back and forth at each other, and their expressions said everything about their disgust at seeing such an obese man. He tried to ignore it... his hands gently rested on the round bloated belly that took up all the space in front of him.  Then he recalled being told that it disturbed people when he held his fat like that. He tried to move his hands to rest beside his rotund girth, but his belly was so big - where else could he put them?

He finally looked up at the guests and their eyes quickly diverted from him. It didn't help his confidence, and he began to regret even leaving his bedroom. His weight was a constant source of embarrassment and stress, but he was told that no one would mind, so he made the effort to join the party. His own eyes diverted from his body and he saw a young woman from across the room who smiled at him with genuine kindness. His anxiety shot through the roof. He looked away from her with haste, then out of the corner of his eye saw her approach him.  The fear rose within him and his breath quickened. She seemed to glide gracefully towards him, and his mind was filled with what he considered a worst case scenario. Once she reached him, she sat beside him and smiled again. He couldn't even muster up the courage to make eye contact, and she picked up on his anxiety. She introduced herself and reached towards his fat hand which dangled by the side of his belly for fear that if it cradled his fat, people would be bothered. He met her in the handshake, still unable to look her in the face...

#ssbhm belly #ssbhm #bhm #fat belly #ffa #ffa bhm #fat #fat fantasy #ffassbhm #ssbhmstory #female feeder #female ffa #femalefatadmirer

[alternative-ffa]

Winston - Introduction

Magnus, Freddy and Mary saw the transport ambulance coming towards them from deep within the trees surrounding the driveway. They all sat up from where they were sitting on the lower patio and made their way around to the main entrance where the ambulance would be stopping. The driver reversed the vehicle up to the ramp to the right of the staircase that led up to the front doors. Mary and the brothers held their breath as the two back swinging doors were opened and the boys saw their cousin for the first time. The gurney was pulled at from the back and what looked like a huge mass of flesh only covered by a transparent white sheet was rolled out of the ambulance. The boys knew where to look, but Mary’s eyes kept searching for the face of the morbidly obese man in front of her – all she could see was a jiggling pile of fat that barely looked human. The crew rotated the gurney and before anyone had any chance to even greet one another, Winston was rolled up the ramp and into the mansion.

Winston had never seen such a splendid place before. His eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped at the wonders inside the ancient building. There was a moment of silence as he looked around until one of the ambulance crew spoke, “Where should we drop him off?”

Magnus stepped forward and replied, “Ah, yes, please follow me. Winston – I’ll be taking you to your new bedroom.”

Mary could see a gentle smile from underneath the oxygen mask that Winston was wearing. Freddy then said, “Mary and I will go into the parlor while you get settled. Welcome home.”

They moved their separate ways: Magnus, Winston, and the ambulance crew continued on to the gold elevator where they would escort Winston into his bedroom; and Mary and Freddy took a left and walked into the parlor.

              Freddy let out a loud groan as he sat himself down on the couch. He had his left hand on his big round belly as if to steady it as he sat. Mary went over to the bar to make a drink. She saw that Freddy had already sat so she asked, “Would you like me to bring you over anything?”

He replied, “Oh yes, a double whiskey – one ice cube.”

Mary smirked, “The same drink Jim usually has, huh?”

He smiled back, “Yeah – I need something to just calm my nerves.” A long pause followed. Then he continued, “I mean: Winston. You saw him. He was not in good shape.”

Mary grabbed the drinks and went over to where Freddy was sitting. She replied, “Well, he’s about the same size as Jim and Emmitt – is it even surprising?”

“Well, yes. It wasn’t his size that was surprising. I expected that. It was his skin – all the sores, and just, how the fat settled about him. It’s pretty obvious he hasn’t received proper care in a long time. I-I don’t even think he’s left his bed until coming up here.”

Mary hesitated, then said, “I suppose I would have to look closer at him to determine really any of that.”

Freddy leaned back with his drink resting on the shelf that was his hard round belly as he said, “At least he will be getting proper care here.”

Mary then sat down with her drink and she asked, “How did you guys get in touch? I heard that you didn’t even know you had a cousin until a few months ago.”

He nodded, “Yeah, we didn’t even know he existed. It’s a long story, that. But for Winston’s sake, I am glad we found him.”

Mary lifted her drink and gently shook it in a circular motion as if to say, I have all the time in the world; so Freddy continued, “I guess it all started before we were even born. It was just our father and his older brother, who was Winston’s father, living in the mansion. Our father began putting on weight when he was only 13, and his brother, who happened to be named Jiminy as well, decided he wanted nothing to do with the situation. He turned 18 later that year – abdicated the throne and moved to Scotland. Our father never heard from him again. Apparently Winston was born in Scotland and was raised by his father – until he turned 17 and then was kicked out of the house on account of his size. I’m sure Winston could say more than I could about that situation. But, from 17 on – he lived in a small apartment alone. What he told me was that it was only the last 5 years of his life where he was completely immobile. The time before that he could at least move about the apartment.

‘To answer your question about how we got in touch: Winston began to research his ancestry. His father wanted nothing to do with the Leonharts when Winston grew up, so he knew nothing about his father’s side (OUR side). His father even changed his last name when he moved – he dropped the Leon and went with Hart. It was a common enough name to make him blend in. But that meant Winston didn’t even have the right name to search while looking up his ancestry. Eventually he found the plane that his father emigrated on, checked the manifest, and saw the name Leonhart. Once he had the right name, he found so much information – even our address here. He wrote us, explaining who he was and his situation. Magnus immediately wanted him to move in with us, but Jiminy was a bit more cautious. Winston had to prove he was our cousin before Jiminy let him move in here. It was simple enough – he took a DNA test. And that was conclusive: he was a Leonhart.”

              Mary had finished her drink by the time the story had ended. Freddy saw this and gulped down his whiskey, handing the empty glass to Mary and nodding his head in a single motion to subtly ask if he could get another. She smiled and took the empty glasses over to the bar to refill them. While she was mixing her drink, Magnus came through the parlor doors. He looked exhausted and was waddling over with his cane to the couches, with much difficulty. Freddy looked over and said, “Do you want help Magnus?”

He huffed and said, “No, I’m almost there.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the couch, using his cane and the arm of the couch for support. Once seated, he lifted his hands under the fat of his belly to even out the fat across his lap; lifting one side and gently placing it down, then reaching under the other side and following suit. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief from his breast pocket and then, between labored breaths said, “Mary, would you mind?” As he made a drinking gesture with his hand.

Mary was still at the bar, so she said, “Sure. Whiskey?”

Magnus nodded. Then Freddy asked, “How was Winston? I mean, what was the shape of him?”

He sighed and said, “Well, it’s not very good. He hasn’t had a proper bath or shower in years. Sure, in-home nurses came over to do basic tasks for him, but the closest he got to a shower was being wiped down with soapy rags maybe once a week. He has a lot of skin infections from not moving, or from the moisture between his rolls not being taken care of, or bed sores in general – it’s just not a good situation. The doctor is in there now, and once he is done, Winston will finally have his first real shower in over 5 years.”

Mary handed the boys their drinks and said, “Poor Winston, being neglected for so long.”

Magnus nodded, “Oh it’s quite the tragedy. Especially knowing that, if his father had stayed with the family, he would have been fine; he never would have been able to get to the point he’s gotten to.”

The three of them changed the subject and spent the rest of the afternoon in the parlor while they waited to hear from the servants that Winston had been taken care of.

                It wasn’t until the sun had gone down around 8:00pm when the parlor door opened. They were expecting an update from either the doctor, or even one of the servants, so they were surprised when the door opened and Winston himself was there. He was dressed in a dark red button down shirt and black pants (which were obviously Jiminy’s clothes), and he sat in a new motorized bariatric wheelchair made specifically for him. A servant had escorted him to the parlor and held the doors open as he maneuvered his wheelchair into the room. At first, the three of them stared silently, until Mary spoke up, “Winston, it’s good to see you! Please, come in.”

The boys snapped out of it and both greeted Winston and encouraged him to come and set his wheelchair by the couches with them. He had his round, fat fingers on the control mechanism of his wheelchair and the chair sporadically moved towards the couches, while Winston muttered swears under his breath at himself while he tried unsuccessfully to steadily roll over to where Mary and the boys were sitting. Freddy saw the difficulty he was having and stood himself up to help. He walked over behind the wheelchair and pushed it into position. Winston was grateful. Once he was next to the couches, Freddy helped him find the button to lock the wheels, and for the first time in decades – he was sitting with family. Winston spoke up, “Thank you – I haven’t really figured this thing out yet. I think I’m a bit too heavy handed on the throttle.”

Magnus replied, “Oh, Emmitt had a hard time with his when he first began using it. It just takes practice.”

Winston nodded. He looked over at his cousins and Mary and his eyes welled up with tears. He put his hand on the bridge of his nose and said, “I’m so sorry, it’s just…”, the tears began to silently fall down his fat cheeks, “…I haven’t had company in a very long time. Being here is just too good to be true.”

Freddy patted Winston’s hand with his and said, “We are glad you’re here.”

Mary handed Winston a small whiskey, and with tears still streaming down his face, he thanked her and gulped it down in one go. He closed his eyes and let out a big sigh as he said, “I just feel so much better. I mean, today – for the first time in years – I got a real shower. I was seen by an expert bariatric doctor. And, I finally have company. Not to mention these beautiful surroundings!”

They smiled at him. Magnus asked, “Have you had a chance to meet Emmitt or Jiminy yet?”

He replied, “No, not yet. I was actually surprised to find out one of you was named Jiminy – same as my father. I don’t really have any good memories with him though; the man tortured me over my size, so even the name Jiminy doesn’t really sit well with me.”

Freddy said, “Well, I’m sure our Jiminy is very different from your father. After all, he’s about your size, so you wouldn’t see him using your weight against you.”

Magnus seemed surprised and asked, “Your father never got big?”

Winston replied, “No. At least, not while I was around. I started putting on weight when I was about 11 or 12. I was terrified. As you all know, of course, the weight gain was not my fault. But for some reason, he couldn’t look at me, he didn’t talk to me… and when he did, I was something to be shamed and made fun of.”

Mary said sympathetically, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Winston smiled and continued, “I know that I didn’t really help our relationship. He was so cruel about my weight that when I was about 15, I just had this rebellious urge to stick it to him, I guess. It manifested itself as purposeful gluttony. I would waddle out of my room, shirtless, just to bother him, and grab all the food I could from the kitchen. I spent hours every day just stuffing myself in my bedroom. I don’t know why, but I felt that, by overeating the way I did, was a way to get back at him for his cruelty. It turns out it didn’t help. I made my situation worse. He kicked me out when I turned 17, and by that point I must have been around 400 pounds. I had no money, no job. I was too fat to really work - so I had to move into government housing. I had a single room. Once or twice a week, groceries were dropped off by volunteers, and occasionally I was cleaned with wipes by nurses who didn’t bother to hide the fact that they thought I was disgusting. I’m actually surprised that I have lived as long as I have given the horrible care I received.”

“Well, you will never receive horrible care again.” Magnus continued, “This is your home now, too.”

“And I am indescribably grateful.” Winston replied; the tears beginning to well up in his eyes again. He seemed to compose himself quicker this time and he asked, “Emmitt and Jiminy… they don’t come downstairs to the parlor?”

Mary stayed silent as she didn’t know them very well. She had met Emmitt once, but Jiminy was a complete stranger. She had been a guest at Leonhart Manor for over two weeks now, at the behest of Phineas (who had a panic attack and left the mansion for fear of the size of his brothers); and Mary ended up staying. She enjoyed the company of Freddy and Magnus. She even enjoyed the few times she had spent with Emmitt. But, in a sense, she was still on a hypothetical waiting list to meet Jiminy. Being who he was, not many people were allowed into Jiminy’s room; and Jiminy himself, never left his room. He was royalty. His brothers were as well, but they weren’t The King. Jiminy was. Every introduction had to include, “His Royal Highness, King, Jiminy Leonhart II.” And Jiminy himself did not like the formality. He was very reclusive on account of his long history of being a public figure. And his brothers didn’t even like to introduce him to new people given all of the complications and variables involved. After a few seconds, Magnus answered Winston’s question, “Emmitt comes down occasionally. Although, as you can imagine it takes quite a while to get him ready to come downstairs. Jiminy doesn’t leave his bed chamber. I mean, there are a few instances where he will – but only if he has to. Usually, if he has to meet with someone, he will insist on them coming up to his room.”

Winston replied, “Does that apply to me? Do you think I will have to meet him in his room?”

Magnus said, “Yes, most likely. I don’t think he will feel comfortable coming down to the parlor. It’s been quite a few years since he has.”

Winston said, “Well, I would really like to thank him in person. I know it was ultimately his decision whether I could move in with you all or not.”

Freddy said, “I’m sure we can arrange that. Considering you and he are basically the same size, I will be surprised if Jim has any opposition towards meeting you.”

Mary rolled her eyes and Freddy added, “Whereas Mary here – Jim still hasn’t agreed to meet her.”

Winston asked, “Why not?”

“It’s out of basic fear,” Freddy continued, “in his mind, why would anyone want to see him; especially a beautiful woman.”

Winston said, “Well, Mary, you don’t look bothered by my size. And I am sure I am much more terrifying looking than Jiminy.”

Magnus replied, “That is actually right. Not to be insulting, but you haven’t been taken care of properly – which of course is not your fault.”

Mary looked down to the floor. She didn’t want to imagine what the flesh looked like under the dark red shirt Winston was wearing. She had an idea of what it looked like, but she was sure her imagination was not in alignment with the reality of his body. Winston noticed the awkwardness and said to Mary, “You-you know, don’t you?”

Gently biting her bottom lip she nodded. Then she said, “I mean, I don’t know exactly. I haven’t seen it. But we were given an update.”

Magnus volunteered, “I did tell them both about your condition after I left your room. Not to be rude, but to just inform them of the circumstances.”

Winston moved his hand as if he was shooing away a fly and he said, “Oh I’m not offended; with the amount of strangers that have had to see my body over the years, I certainly don’t mind my own family seeing it and discussing it. At least with you all I’m confident you weren’t making fun of me... believe me, the comments I used to receive from the social service employees…”

He trailed off and his eyebrows furrowed with the negative memories.

Magnus spoke up, “I’m very glad you are here with us now. I can’t imagine what you went through all alone over the years.”

Winston nodded. Then Freddy said, “Well, that is the past, and now Winston is with us.”

They all nodded and expressed agreement, then Freddy continued, “Hey, why don’t we have a toast? To the reunion of family.”

He wiggled to the edge of the couch and pulled himself up by pushing off of the arm of the sofa. Then, with his hard round belly resting on his hand, he waddled over to the bar and pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne. Then Mary stood up and walked over to him – knowing that he couldn’t carry the bottle, the four glasses, and his belly, at the same time. She grabbed the four champagne flutes and they both walked back to the couches. Freddy popped the cork and then gently poured the glasses full. Mary handed a glass to Winston and Magnus, then Mary and Freddy picked theirs up. All four of them lifted their glasses in the air as Freddy said, “To Winston. Welcome to Leonhart Manor!”

Then they sipped their champagne and continued to chat into the night.

#ssbhm #ffa #fatfantasy #ffa bhm #fantasystory #fatmen #femalefatadmirer #supersize #ffassbhm #fat fantasy #ssbhm belly #ssbhmstory #death feederism #obese #morbidlyobese

[alternative-ffa]

A little bit about me...

I stalked the fat fetish communities: forums, pictures, posts, etc... when I turned 13 (20 years ago). I have always found morbidly obese men attractive, since before I can remember. Even as a child, it held some mysterious attraction to me.

I thought I was alone. I didn't know that a fat fetish was even a thing. But thanks to the internet, I learned that there was a whole community out there.

Since, at the time, I was too young to join the community, I emailed one of my stories to be "published" on one of the sites. It was, and many people enjoyed it.

At the age of 18, I could finally join the community. I recall posting my story again (after 5 years of edits and upgrades) under my screen name on one of the fantasy forums.

They immediately accused me of plagiarism since they couldn't believe a 13 year old wrote that story years ago. Luckily, I happened to have a tattoo dedicated to the main character (not to mention, many other stories in the same style). I proved that I wrote it and received a few pointless accolades towards my writing style.

After joining the community, I met my BHM. He is now my husband, all these years later.

It seemed like a miracle - meeting someone in close proximity to me with the matching fetish. (He was a BHM/feedee and was looking for an FFA/feeder). We didn't like each other for the first few years - we were complete opposites in every aspect, except for the fetish.

I don't recall when we realized that we began to feel love for each other outside of the fetish, but it happened maybe 3 or 4 years after we began to be exclusive.

We even had an article written about us in a UK tabloid back in 2008 or 2009. Our size difference (I was 100lbs and he was nearing 400lbs) was what interested them along with our unusual fetish attraction. It was a pointless tabloid (the kind that publishes bigfoot photos).

But life happens. After a bunch of stressful life events, he lost a lot of weight (the health problems were unrelated to his size). We remained together because of the love we had for each other. I would prefer a happy and healthy partner over a miserable and sick partner any day. Love triumphs over sexual attraction.

Years passed and the fetish relationship kicked off again. He regained his health, and began to enjoy indulging in the feeding and belly rubs and measurements again as he grew.

I am practical. Even though my fetish for fat men can get extreme (there is nothing sexier than a man over 600lbs), reality tells me that I'd rather have my partner be happy and healthy. We can still engage in the fantasy of the fetish, without sabotaging his health.

15 years later, we are still together. We indulge in feeding and fantasy when it's convenient and we're in the mood.

I wouldn't define myself as a feeder. I'm more into the huge size of my partner than the journey getting there.

And that is where my fantasy stories come in. They kept me sane during all those years where I was the only one I knew in real life who enjoyed it. As well as the years where my partner had to put his own fetish aside for his health.

A true, long term, feedee/feeder relationship will have hiccups. Five steps back, one step forward. But love conquers all, even in such a unique fetish situation.

#ssbhm #ffa bhm #fat fantasy #ffa #ffassbhm #ssbhm belly #ssbhmstory #fatmen #bhm #dimensions #fantasyfeeder #femalefeeder #femalefatadmirer

[alternative-ffa]

When Fantasy Becomes Reality

My most recently posted story. Mature Content. NSFW.

              It was 6:30am when Patrick usually left his apartment for his morning run around the public park near where he resided. He was always very strict about his schedule, so the fact that he was just getting out of his bed at 6:30 this morning made him frustrated with himself for pressing snooze on his alarm so many times. He muttered to himself, “I guess I’ll have to skip it this morning.”

Then he got out of bed and went into the shower to ready himself for the office.

Patrick was a very fit man. He always worked out, ate healthy, and always kept himself busy whether it was with work or his own hobbies. He had medium length light brown hair with a hint of red, and it was speckled throughout with greys. His eyes were bright green, and when he smiled, the skin at the edges of them crinkled in a charming expression. He was clean shaven. His cheekbones and jawline were so sharp that he preferred having no facial hair to cover them. He always dressed up, even just to hang out with his friends at a sports bar. The selection of suits that Patrick owned was expansive – almost a suit for every week. This morning he stood in front of his full-length mirror, tying his dark red tie underneath his starched white collar. He put his cuff-links in and then left the apartment for his office.

              It was a quick walk to the high-rise where Patrick worked. He always passed a bakery on his way and often stopped for a coffee and bagel. This morning was no different. He entered the bakery and was greeted by the owner who began to get his usual order ready. Patrick was not the only one in the bakery this morning – out of the corner of his eye he saw a very large man sitting in the corner with a newspaper. The man had multiple donuts in front of him and was gulping them down greedily as if he didn’t even care that he was in public. Patrick found himself scowling and then he turned away from the man. He grabbed his coffee and bagel and continued his walk to the office. As he walked the crowded morning streets he found himself thinking about the fat man in the bakery. A bit of him was jealous. Patrick always had a secret desire to gain weight; but he always kept his desire as a fantasy. He never indulged in it in real life, but enjoyed talking to others about it in a few anonymous internet forums and chats. Seeing that man confidently stuffing himself in public was more of a turn on then Patrick wanted to admit, so his brain pushed it from his mind.

              He worked a full day, getting salads for lunch with his colleagues and walking around the building for his breaks. Today he was more vigorous with this exercise than he normally would have been, since, not only had he missed his morning run, but his mind was still occupied with the fat man in the bakery. As he packed his briefcase to leave the office for the day one of his coworkers came in and said, “We’re going to McGuire’s for some beers, you coming?”

Normally Patrick would have, but with the image of that large man stuffing himself still haunting his mind, he wanted to go home and indulge in some fantasy role playing. He replied, “Oh, I can’t tonight, I’ve already got plans.”

His coworker said, “No problem, see ya tomorrow?”

Patrick smiled as he locked his briefcase and said, “Sure thing!”

Then he closed his office door and headed for the elevator. He was looking forward to getting home and rushed there once he left the building.

              Entering his apartment, he locked and bolted the door. Then he went into his home office and closed all the curtains. He was brimming with excitement to go online and do some role playing with the idea of that fat man in the bakery in the forefront of his mind. He joined the chatroom and began to pretend he was as fat as the man he had seen. A few people indulged with him and he was enjoying the discussion immensely. Then a new screen-name popped up in the chat. He saw the avatar of a picture of a beautiful thin woman. He was very curious what on earth a small-framed woman was doing on a site for men with a fat fetish. He clicked on the screen-name and viewed her profile. She was one of those elusive female feeders. He had heard that they existed but had never come across one. All of his fantasy discussions were usually with men – role playing about becoming obese. He felt a flutter in his chest as he typed out a hello to her directly. He hit enter – then waited for her response. As he saw the three dots flashing across his chat-screen he became even more nervous. Then she replied with a hello and after a few moments of small talk, Patrick went straight to the point. He typed out, “So, I’m assuming you like big men, given your profile.”

She replied, “Yes, I’ve always had a thing for very fat men.”

Patrick then said, “And what if I told you I wanted to be a very fat man?”

She typed, “Then you’d have to work for it. 😉 I only chat with men while they eat.”

He replied, “How do you know if they are eating or not?”

She said, “Video chat, of course.”

Patrick thought for a few seconds. He really wanted to indulge this fantasy with a woman, but he didn’t like the idea of consuming extra calories. He never wanted to get fat in real life – in fact, it was actually a fear that dominated his mind, so he was hesitant about agreeing. Then he thought: would a little bit of extra calories really be that much of a problem? I could take a longer run tomorrow and work them off. So he agreed. He ran into his kitchen and grabbed a box of cookies. It had been there, unopened, for a few months since they were bought for guests and he himself would never touch them on account of their fat content. But he was convinced he could work the calories off, so he felt eating a box of cookies would be worth it just to roleplay being fat. Specifically, he wanted to roleplay the man in the bakery and he thought that actually eating something would make it feel more real. He joined the video chat and showed her the box of cookies as he said, “I’m willing to eat if you run through this fantasy of mine…”

Her screen was blank, but a sweet feminine voice said, “I’ll run through any fantasy you want, as long as you eat all of those cookies.”

The determination in her voice aroused him already. He thought, am I really going to do this? Then he said, “Oh I’ll eat them. But I want you to pretend that I’m five hundred pounds and you see me binging donuts in a bakery. Maybe you begin to feed me?”

That voice floated in through his speakers for the next few minutes, graphically teasing him as if he really was morbidly obese. He found himself almost entranced in consuming the cookies. Each bite he took aroused him more. Finally, the box was empty. The voice on the other side of the computer teasingly said, “You gluttonous pig – you ate all of them?”

Patrick groaned and with his eyes closed he said, “I did.”

Then a burp erupted from his mouth and he felt his cock pulse in pleasure. The voice teased him some more, “Oh, someone’s very full, huh?”

He sat there and nodded as he struggled to say, “I’ve never been this full in my life.”

The woman’s voice replied, “Why don’t you rub your belly a bit? It will help you digest all those calories.”

He was hesitant. He looked down at himself to see that his stomach was sticking out a little bit, instead of sporting a flat six-pack. He knew it was just because he was full, he wasn’t putting on any fat yet, but it still disturbed him a bit. His left hand came up and he placed it on the bloated stomach that was sticking out. With nervousness, he began to rub it slowly and awkwardly. The voice replied, “Use both your hands big boy, rub it firmly.”

He obeyed and put both hands on his stomach. He re-positioned himself in the chair and then used his abdominal muscles to push his belly out even more. When he purposefully pushed it out, he felt huge. He closed his eyes and imagined that the belly he was touching was five times bigger and filled with bakery donuts. He burped again and then said, “I-I think I should go to bed. I’m slowly falling asleep here.”

The voice replied, “You’re in a food coma, go ahead and get some sleep…”

They both ended the chat and Patrick got up to go to bed. He walked into the bedroom and after he undressed, he looked at his body in the mirror. He didn’t see much of a difference with his full stomach. It was a little distended, but he chocked that up to being so full. He stood sideways and still didn’t see a difference. Then he pushed his belly out. It looked distinctly rounder when he forced it out himself. He stood there, staring, then began to rub his stomach. His brain pretended he was much bigger than he was and his cock throbbed again at the thought. He shook his head to get the thought out of his mind and then curled up in bed, determined to wake up early to double the time he had to run in the morning.

                His alarm went off at 5:30am. He groaned and rolled over to turn it off. Instead of falling back asleep as he did the day before, he sat up on the side of his bed, groggily remembering the previous night. He put his hand on his stomach and was relieved to see he still had his six pack. He was still fit, even though the previous night’s dreams were filled with images of obesity. He got up and felt his stomach rumble with hunger. He thought it was odd – he was never hungry in the morning before his run. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he ignored it and got his workout clothes on. He began his run in the park and felt a bit more lethargic than he normally would have. He persevered through and got back to his apartment in time to shower and dress before work.

              He arrived at the bakery to get his coffee and bagel. He was secretly hoping the fat man from the day before was there. But to his disappointment, he was not. Patrick got his breakfast and then continued to the office. The workday passed like it always did, then 5:00 came and Patrick rushed to get home. He immediately ran into his home office and signed on to the fetish forum where he met the lady from the previous night. She wasn’t online yet, so he spoke with the regulars about gaining and tried to stall his excitement for when she would sign on. Remembering that if he wanted to role play with her, he would have to be eating, he went into the kitchen to look for something. The available food basically consisted of vegetables, cereal, and nuts. He was always a conscientious eater and stayed with healthy foods, but tonight he knew he had to get something else. He reached into one of the drawers and found a Chinese takeout menu. Looking it over, he made a list of quite a few fattening dishes to order. He was a bit nervous and thought: I’m doing it again. But last night was fine, I didn’t put anything on. I can do it at least one more time and not have to worry about gaining weight. So he called the restaurant and placed a large delivery order. He knew it was going to be impossible for him to eat all of the food, but he figured he would have leftovers and could use it again the next night.

              Returning to his home office, he sat down and checked the chat again. She had signed on. He felt his heart go into his chest and immediately messaged her. He typed, “I ordered food tonight.”

The three dots appeared on his screen as she typed. Then her response popped up, “Good piggy. Are you going to eat it all?”

He smiled a bit then replied, “I’m going to try.”

The doorbell rang and he jumped up to get the food delivery. Bringing the whole bag into his office, he was surprised that he found himself excited to begin eating.

The video chat icon lit up on his screen and he joined her again. Like the previous night, her screen was blank, so all he had was her voice to guide him in his fantasy as he ate and pretended he was a morbidly obese glutton. He loved the feeling – each bite he took as she called him names and told him how fat he was getting. He had never been aroused by eating before and was almost disappointed in himself for waiting so late in his life to start indulging like this. Her beautiful voice that taunted him and made him eat echoed in his office as he forced bite after bite in his mouth. About an hour passed and Patrick reached into the takeout bag for another container of food only to find it was empty. He broke out of his reverie and searched a bit more. Realizing that there was no more food left, he panicked. His brain said, you weren’t supposed to finish it tonight. It was supposed to last you at least two nights! What have you done? He looked down at his stomach and saw it sticking out even further than the previous night. His state of arousal made it appealing. Then he stuck it out further, again using his abdominal muscles to push it out and make himself look as fat as possible. The voice said, “Look at you… you big fat man. You like getting fat, don’t you?”

He nodded and then burped. He replied, “Oh, please, make me fat. I want to be huge.”

She replied, “You fat fuck, I’m going to make you immobile.”

His cock pulsed again. And to his surprise he felt even more aroused than the previous night. He was stuffed to the brim, in a delirious state listening to her beautiful voice tell him how fat he was going to get. During these role playing sessions there was nothing he wanted more than to be as fat as possible. But when he awoke the next morning he always pushed it from his mind and lived his alter-ego: a thin, fit man who feigned enjoying salads and sport.

                The weeks passed. He found himself isolating from his friends. All he wanted to do was talk with this woman and eat. He always managed to enjoy his fantasy and not have to worry about actually becoming fat – but that was slowly changing. Her insistence that he had to be eating while she spoke with him caused him to consume many more calories than he was capable of working off. He knew his clothes were getting tighter, but they still fit, and no one mentioned anything. At least, they didn’t mention anything until a few months had passed. Patrick was joining his colleagues at a meeting in the boardroom when he sat down in one of the chairs and a button from his shirt popped off. He turned bright red and looked around to see if anyone noticed. They had heard a noise, but no one acted as if they saw anything. He pulled on the front of his suit jacket to try and button it over his dress shirt, only to find that his belly stuck out too far. His breathing quickened. Half of him was embarrassed, but the other half felt an indescribable pleasure at his clothes breaking off of him. The meeting ended and he busied himself with putting paperwork back in his briefcase, so that by the time he stood up to walk out, he was the last one to leave. He sucked in his belly – a far cry from the first few days of his increased appetite where he would purposefully push his belly out to look fatter. It was about 4:00pm and he felt it made sense to go home. He didn’t want to add any more risk of anyone seeing his woefully tight clothing, so he got his things together and snuck out of the office early.

              On his walk home he passed the bakery, like usual. What was not usual was his desire to go inside and order a dozen donuts. The fat man he had seen there weeks ago had always popped into his head every time he passed the place. He wanted to feel what it was like to binge in public; he wanted the same bravery that fat man had. He took a deep breath and walked in. The cashier was the same one from the morning and said, “Pat, we never see you in here in the afternoon. What would you like?”

He hesitated and then came up with an excuse, “I’m having a few people over and figured I should grab a dozen donuts or so to go with the coffee.”

The cashier said, “Coming right up. You said a dozen? Or 2 dozen?”

Patrick replied, “Actually, make it two dozen.”

The cashier nodded and grabbed two large pastry boxes and filled them with donuts of all different varieties. Patrick was tempted to just put them on the table in the bakery and start eating them then and there, but he couldn’t muster up the bravery. He grabbed the boxes and made his way back to his apartment. He knew he had gotten home early and his feeder – which is what he called the woman with the beautiful voice – wouldn’t be online yet. He put the donuts down in the kitchen, then went to walk into his bedroom to get his tight clothing off, only to stop halfway. He turned around in the hallway and looked at the donut boxes, sitting there tempting him. He thought, these clothes are ruined anyway, maybe I should start eating. My feeder would love to see me with my clothes ripped apart by my growing body. He moaned with pleasure at the idea and then ran up to the boxes and ripped one open. He grabbed a donut and forced it into his mouth in one bite, getting frosting around his lips. He chewed as quickly as he could, just wanting to put more and more into himself. He stood there and ate donut after donut. He was delirious with the arousal of eating and didn’t slow down until he felt another button burst off his shirt. He groaned and looked down at himself – his belly stuck out and pushed against the counter. He grabbed it with both of his hands, which were still covered in crumbs and frosting, and he rubbed it. He then grabbed his belly from the bottom and began to jiggle the newfound fat. He loved the feeling of all the sensitive new fat jiggling around on his frame. His belly had begun to fall a bit over his crotch, so when he jiggled it, it teased his erect manhood. He wished there was a way to masturbate with just his belly. Then he heard her voice in his head say, “If you get big enough, you’ll find a way.”

He groaned again with pleasure then looked over at the clock. It was later than he expected and he moved as fast as his full belly would let him into the home office to sign on to talk with her. He was excited for her to see him already stuffed before they even began. His fear of weight gain was still there, but the pleasure he derived from how proud she was of him for his obesity was blinding him to any fear he had. He joined the video chat and the familiar voice said, “Oh dear, did you start eating without me?”

Patrick replied, “I couldn’t help myself. I bought donuts.”

She said, “You piggy. You really want to live that gluttonous donut fantasy, don’t you?”

He moaned again and rubbed his stomach as he said, “Yes, oh yes!”

She asked, “Do you have any more?”

He took a deep breath and admitted, “Yes.”

Then her assertive feeder voice said, “Then why aren’t you eating them, fatty?”

He said, “I-I just ate almost a dozen, I don’t know if I can eat anymore.”

She replied, “Well you had better try. There’s no credit for eating before you sign on. Remember, I have to watch you eat if you want to play out this fantasy with me.”

He moaned again and started to wiggle himself into a standing position as he said, “Oh yes, I’ll go get the rest.”

He noticed he had to waddle a little bit into the kitchen to grab the other box of donuts. It aroused him to no end, feeling himself sway side to side, his huge round belly sticking out in front of him. He was nowhere near as fat as the man in the bakery, but he still felt very fat. He grabbed the box and made his way back to the computer. He plopped himself down in the chair and suddenly a seam ripped on his pants. He looked down and saw the new thigh fat oozing out of the broken seam by his crotch. A few months ago, this would have nauseated him. But now, he was more aroused than he had ever been. The voice asked, “I heard something… what happened?”

His belly rested over the broken seam, so she couldn’t see that he has burst out of his pants. He stuttered, “M-my pants… they just ripped.”

The sexy voice replied, “Oh my big fat man – you’re getting to be quite the pig, aren’t you?”

He smiled and rubbed his belly as he said passionately, “I am. I’m such a fat pig.”

The voice ordered, “Time to finish those donuts, big boy.”

He grabbed one from the box and with the same gusto as earlier forced it into his gullet. He was blinded by the pleasure: her beautiful voice goading him into eating more and more and his full distended belly sticking out in front of him just growing fatter and fatter. He continued to moan as he ate. Donut after donut entered his mouth, frosting and powder surrounding his fat lips. And yet again, he went to reach for another, only to notice there were none left. He collapsed into a reclining position in the chair and with his hands rubbing his hard full belly he muttered incredulously, “Oh God. I ate them all. I-I ate them all…”

The voice replied, “You certainly did, you big fat mess. You’re getting so obese. I can’t believe you’re the same thin man who contacted me months ago.”

He burped and said, “I am a fat mess. I love it. You’ve been such a good feeder. I wish I could meet you in real life.”

A moment of silence on her end passed and then she said, “Why don’t we?”

He wanted nothing more than to have her with him. He thought of her stuffing him in real life, massaging his full belly as he continued to eat and eat; her voice whispering in his ear how large he was becoming. He couldn’t resist. He asked, “You would be up for that?”

She replied, “Of course. But we have to meet at a restaurant. And I want you to stuff yourself into oblivion.”

He grinned and said, “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

They ended their nightly chat and Patrick, bloated to the point that he could barely move, began to look for a restaurant far enough away that he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. So far he was able to hide his weight from his coworkers and friends, but he knew it was rapidly reaching a point where that would be impossible. He located a restaurant about a twenty-mile drive from the city. Confident he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew there, he made a reservation for two about a week out. He emailed his feeder to give her the reservation details and then made his way into his bedroom to sleep off the calories he consumed from the donuts.

              He continued going to work daily but had decided not to do his morning runs anymore. The weight piled on quicker without the vigorous daily exercise. Friday morning he had woken up at 6:30 and sleepily made his way into the bathroom. He had ordered a scale a few days before but hadn’t worked up the courage to use it yet. He knew when he started this journey – the same day he saw that fat man in the bakery – that he weighed 145lbs. He kept that in mind as he stepped on the new scale four months later. He had to push his belly to his side in order to watch the digital display flash. All of a sudden a number appeared on the screen: 227lbs. He gasped. He said aloud, “That’s over 80 pounds. Oh God, what have I done?”

He stepped off the scale and put his head in his hands. Seeing that number disturbed him. He almost wanted to cancel his date and commit himself to basically living at the gym. He walked back into his bedroom and went into his closet. Looking at the suits he realized, “I didn’t get any bigger ones…”

He was disappointed in himself: now he had nothing to wear to work. He called his office and asked for the day off. It was granted.

              His date with his so-far-not-named feeder was that Friday night. Since he had taken the day off, he decided that he had better utilize his time to pick up some bigger clothes. He threw an oversized sweatshirt over his tight pants – which he could no longer button. Then he went to the same shop that he always ordered his suits from. Walking in, he hoped that he would have a different employee assist him – one that was not familiar with his previous measurements. As his luck would have it, the only staff member available was his usual tailor – Richard. Rich walked over to Patrick with his tape measure around his neck. Before he even began to take measurements, he said, “Ah, I see you’re going to need some bigger sizes.”

Patrick blushed and replied, “Yeah, I-I’ve been a bit busy and haven’t exercised in a while. I’ve put on a few pounds.”

Rich almost muttered aloud, “Just a few?” But then held back from saying it.

He brought Patrick into one of the back rooms and then took the tape measure from around his neck and began to measure Patrick’s new round body. The first measurement was his bust. Patrick didn’t really think he was gaining around his chest – he noticed his belly growing more than anything else. When the bust measurement was said aloud by Rich, Patrick gulped. He was six inches wider around his chest. He felt a wave of anxiety, but tried to hide it. Rich finished the measurements and said, “I’ll go grab a few suits for you to try on.”

He left the back room and Patrick stood there alone in front of the full-size mirror. He stood there in his underwear (which was also getting too tight for him), and he analyzed his reflection. His hands went down to his protruding belly. He lifted it up and moved so that he could see himself from the side. At this point, his belly was too big to hide. He then glanced down at his rear. As he stood sideways, he saw his rear was rather big as well. It was as if a shelf of fat had started growing there. He gulped, then Rich re-entered the room with a few suits on his arms. He handed Patrick the first suit and said, “Here is a size that should fit.”

Patrick looked at the number and blushed. It was three sizes bigger than he would normally order. The embarrassment just flooded his thoughts. Rich left the room and Patrick began to dress himself in the new sizes. He felt more confident in the new suits that fit his frame than the old suits he was stuffing himself into each day. He called Rich back into the room and said, “I’ll order two of these. But could you also add a few more – ones in bigger sizes?”

Rich replied, “Of course. Do you want one suit in a bigger size, or would you like a few?”

Patrick said, “Order three more. One in this size, and the other two in bigger sizes.”

Rich looked a bit surprised and inadvertently said, “So you’re not planning on losing weight?”

Patrick himself was shocked that his tailor would be that matter-of-fact with the question. He stuttered, “Well… I-I-I’m planning on losing. I-I just… I don’t know if I will. I want to be prepared.”

Richard nodded and wrote the order in his notebook. He then said, “Feel free to bring this suit home today – the other two will be available in about a week.”

Patrick thanked him and said, “Can I wear this suit out? The clothes I came in with aren’t exactly flattering.”

Rich nodded, then Patrick paid for his order and left the store.

He began the walk back to his apartment – slowing down to look at his new reflection in the various store windows. As he viewed his reflection, he was tempted to put his hand on his belly, but decided against it since he was in public. It was 3:00pm by the time he got home, so he had two hours to prepare for his meal with his unnamed feeder. He was hungry, but wanted to impress her during dinner, so he decided not to have a snack beforehand. He was still wearing his new suit when he thought, “I haven’t shaved in a while…” So he went into the bathroom and made the effort. His beard had been fuller than usual – he purposefully grew it out so that it would hide his newly formed double chin. But, considering that his double chin was a positive thing to the woman he was about to meet, he shaved his face clean. When he was done, he spent a longer time than usual looking in the mirror. His once defined jawline and cheekbones were covered in a layer of fat. His face was much rounder than he realized and he almost felt as if his reflection was that of a complete stranger. At first, he felt a tinge of terror at how fat his face had become, then he remembered the innumerable nights of pleasure as he stuffed himself with the encouragement of his feeder. He felt it was worth it.

 At 5:00pm he hired an uber and went to the elite seafood restaurant they were to meet at. It was near the shore, many miles away from the city where he resided. He had his new suit on – a dark blue pinstripe with a light blue dress shirt and navy tie. He could feel his double chin rubbing on the collar of his new shirt. It caused him to be nervous, but he hoped that his feeder would find it attractive. He was unsure what to expect… he had only seen one photo of her. All the nights he had video chatted with her, listening to her voice guiding him to gluttony, he never saw her face. He was seated at the table and kept checking his phone for any correspondence. A waiter came by with bread and a Parmesan oil dip. Patrick wanted to wait until she got there before he began stuffing himself, but he was so hungry he dived into the bread. His eyes kept looking at the main entrance. Multiple times he saw a woman enter and his heart would skip a beat thinking it was her, only to see a man come through with her and them going to their own table. After a few instances of that, he noticed a woman come in alone. She was relatively tall, which could have been her five-inch heels. She had long black hair. It was curled and cascaded dramatically down her back. Her eyes were a sharp hazel and the dress she wore accented the small curves she had. It was a dark maroon sweater dress, and it fit tightly around her thin frame. He gulped. The woman asked something of the hostess and he saw as she pointed in his direction. The beautiful woman approached him and she smiled mischievously as she said, “Patrick, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Elizabeth.”

He felt his jaw drop in awe. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and the last thing he expected. He assumed she had some kind of obvious flaw, something that made it so she had to date fat men. But as he looked at her, he could find no faults. She was gorgeous. He began to try to stand to shake her hand in greeting and she said, “Oh, don’t get up.” Then she whispered to him “It’s a waste of calories.”

He took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, of course, I’ll stay seated.”

She took her seat across from him. The waiter noticed her arrival and came by to take their drink order. She ordered a martini and Patrick decided on an old fashioned.

As the waiter began to turn around to put in their drink orders, Elizabeth spoke up and said, “Could we order some appetizers as well?”

He took out his notepad and said, “Of course.”

Patrick looked on in aroused awe as she ordered three different and fattening appetizers. The waiter wrote them down and said, “I will put those in and be right back with your drinks.”

Once they were left alone at the table, Elizabeth said, “You look wonderful. Is that a new suit?”

Patrick blushed and said, “Yes, I-I just bought it today.”

Then he added, “I made sure to order two other suits in larger sizes. You’ve been quite the encourager.”

Her lips curled in the same mischievous smile she had when she first saw him and she said, “Well, you’ve been quite the feedee. Most of the thin men I’ve spoken to on that site just want to enjoy the fantasy – very few actually try to make it a reality.”

Patrick then realized just how much he had indulged in his lifelong fat fantasy over the past few months. He put his right hand on his belly and he replied, “I never thought I would be this dedicated to it… until I began speaking with you.”

He then added, “I’m curious, why did you never have your video on all these months? You’re beautiful, and all I got to see was a blank screen.”

Elizabeth replied, “I’d rather know if a feedee is into it for his own benefit, rather than just trying to impress a pretty woman. That’s why I never turned my camera on.”

Patrick nodded, and then said, “Well, I’ll certainly agree that you’re a pretty woman.”

She looked humble and said, “Thank you.”

The waiter returned with their drinks and had another waiter following behind with their appetizers. The three plates were placed on the table, then Elizabeth took a sip of her martini and said quietly, “You better get started, big boy.”

Patrick felt his cock pulse underneath his belly. He didn’t even respond vocally, but just grabbed a plate and began to eat. He was torn between eating slowly so he could fit more in his belly or eating quickly to impress her. He found a happy medium and within about fifteen minutes, the appetizers were gone. The waiter returned to take the empty plates and the two put in their dinner order. Elizabeth ordered a grilled salmon dish and Patrick – with encouragement from Elizabeth – ordered two dinners. He was a bit embarrassed when he told the waiter both dinner orders that he would be eating himself, but he had never been to this restaurant before and would probably never return, so all he cared about was pleasuring Elizabeth with how much food he could consume in front of her. After the waiter walked away with their dinner orders, Elizabeth said, “I’m glad you ordered two meals. Just to let you know – I won’t be finishing my dinner, so you might have bitten off more than you can chew… no pun intended.”

Patrick was very aroused and he replied, “I’ll eat everything you want me to.”

After an hour, Patrick had not only eaten the two dinners he ordered for himself, but also most of Elizabeth’s meal. He was so full that his stomach was hard as a rock. His belly even pushed open a few buttons of the dress shirt he was wearing – a new shirt that had fit him well earlier in the day. He felt such an urge to burp. But he knew it was going to be a loud, long belch. He didn’t want to do that in public. He tried to burp silently, putting his hand up to his mouth. A few hiccups came out, then the burp he was afraid of echoed from his stomach. A few patrons of the restaurant looked over at him with disgust and he put his hand back up to his mouth and then said embarrassed, “I’m so sorry, excuse me.”

Elizabeth’s leg reached across from under the table, and he felt her smooth soft skin rubbing against his leg. She grinned again and whispered, “Good boy. You’re making room for dessert.”

Patrick hadn’t even thought of dessert; he was already so full. But he looked her in the eyes and said, “Oh yes, order me whatever you want. I promise I’ll eat it.”

Her leg continued to rub against his under the table. She whispered to him, “I’m going to make you so fat.”

Then the waiter returned with the dessert menu. Elizabeth glanced through it and ordered three different ones: a tiramisu, a cheesecake slice, and an apple pie slice. The waiter wrote down the order, then looked at Patrick. He looked slightly disgusted at the obviously full fat man at the table, but did his job and submitted the dessert order to the kitchen.

Patrick looked into Elizabeth’s hazel eyes as he quietly said, “I-I’m so full. I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish dessert. And If I did… I don’t think I could walk out of here. I-I don’t think I’ll be able to stand up.”

She continued to rub her leg on his as she said, “But won’t that be nice? You: too fat and bloated to stand. Perhaps we might need a little help from the waiters to waddle you out of here?”

Patrick moaned quietly. He loved her answers. He was so deep in the fantasy that the actual reality of his situation was arousing. He thought of himself in the far future – patronizing restaurants, eating the entirety of the menu, being rolled out of the buildings in an oversized wheelchair, himself wheezing from how full his belly would be. He was so aroused by the time the dessert was delivered that he didn’t even wait for Elizabeth to instruct him to eat… he grabbed the nearest plate and gulped it down as quick as he could. She put her head in her hands, with her elbows on the table, and just watched his display of gluttony. He took bite after bite, then grabbed the plates and licked them clean. After he finished the last dessert he leaned back in his chair and let out an audible groan. The same patrons as before glanced his way, glared, and then whispered to each other. Elizabeth noticed and said to Patrick, “Enjoy the attention. You’re getting so round they are shocked at you. Your appetite is very impressive.”

Patrick opened his mouth to respond and another burp came out. The patrons glared again, almost looking nauseous. He was still leaned back and he put both his hands on his round bloated belly. He took her advice and enjoyed it, by rubbing his belly with a passion that he had never had before. He could have stayed there for another half hour rubbing his fat, but the waiter returned with the check. It was almost a hint that the restaurant wanted him out of there. Elizabeth went to grab the check, but Patrick intercepted it. He burped again and then said, “It’s my treat. After all, I ate most of it.”

He whispered back to himself in his own mind, “I ate most of it. My God, what is happening to me?”

She smiled and said, “Thank you.”

As he wrote the tip and added up the total he said, “I don’t know what your plans are tonight, but if you’re free, you’re welcome to come back to my place.”

She reached out and put her hand on his as she said, “Not tonight big boy. I’ll tell you what; you become that big fat man at the bakery stuffing himself with donuts… and I’ll come by your apartment to visit.”

His cock throbbed again. It was as if every time that fat man he saw in the bakery months before was brought up he was sexually inspired. He signed the check and Elizabeth stood up to leave. Patrick tried to stand. It took him about four attempts before he was on his feet. The new suit he had bought was already tight against his skin. He motioned for Elizabeth to exit in front of him, but she refused, and said, “You go in front of me.”

So he waddled in front of her and had his hand on his fat hard stomach as he swayed back and forth out of the restaurant. The two of them stood next to her car as he waited for his uber. She leaned her back against her car and pulled his fat body towards her as she said seductively, “You did so well tonight you big fat pig.”

Her hands were on his hips – the new roll of fat which made up his side belly gently resting above her hands. He faced her – tempted to push all his weight against her so she would be pinned between her car and his fat body. Then he remembered that she wasn’t interested in going to his apartment for the night. He tried again and said, “Are you sure you’re not interested in a visit to my apartment?”

That mischievous smile came to her lips again and she said, “I have an idea… when you feel you’re fat enough to fulfill your fantasy of the ‘fat man in the donut shop’, I’ll come visit you. Instead of sitting there reading a newspaper, you’ll be fed by me.”

Patrick felt a rush of excitement. His uber had pulled up, so he then gently pushed his hard, stuffed, round belly up against her as he said, “If you keep meeting me online every night, I’ll be that donut-shop-fat-man in no time.”

She put her hands on his stomach and stepped on her tiptoes. She kissed his lips and then said, “Prove it.”

He gently moaned and said, “I will, Elizabeth, I will.”

He waddled over to his uber, his stomach fuller than he had ever been. She opened her driver’s door and got into her small car. Then they both went their separate ways.

                It was another two days before Patrick could see Elizabeth again online. He began to be 100% dedicated to morbid obesity. Instead of his usual 5:30am workout, he made a full breakfast: six eggs, a full pack of bacon, beans, fried tomato, fried ham, and even corned beef hash. Patrick made sure he was stuffed full at all hours of the day. He met up online with Elizabeth again on a Monday night. This time she turned on her side of the camera, instead of leaving it blank. He saw the same beautiful woman he met in person. He purposefully wore some old clothes that were too small for him and he sat in his home office chair, facing his webcam. She saw his fat, bloated body – ripped apart by stretch marks, proving his skin couldn’t keep up with his newfound obesity, and she loved every inch of it. She said to him, “Oh Patrick, you’re getting quite big. I remember the small fit man I met months ago… look at yourself! You’ve become a pile of blubber!”

Patrick replied, some words in whispers, “Oh yes, I’m so fat. I’ve stopped going to work. I put in an application for work-from-home. I hear they are going to approve it. Elizabeth my dear, I’m going to get so fat for you.”

She smiled at him and said, “Would you like to know how beautiful your fat belly is to me?”

Patrick said, “Oh yes. Please.”

She had her own video on. She disappeared from the screen, then a few minutes later returned with a hunter-green baby doll on. The lace of the baby doll dress barely covered her soft porcelain bare-skin. She wore a matching thong with a bow on the front and the back of the single string. Patrick started to touch himself. He had to lift his newfound belly to even be able to touch his throbbing dick. Elizabeth whispered sexually, “Oh you big fat man, please touch yourself. I want to see you enjoying your size.”

He continued to masturbate. Then saw her in the video – a huge vibrator pressed against her clitoris. In between breaths she said, “Patrick, tell me how fat you’re going to get.”

He continued to touch himself as he said, “Oh Elizabeth, I’m going to get so fat. I’ve already been taking days off just to eat. I can’t stop eating. I want to become immobile. I want you to feed me to immobility…”

Moans came from Elizabeth’s side of the video. He wasn’t able to see as much as he wanted to, but he saw her legs shaking and knew she was orgasiming at the idea of his morbid obesity. He kept touching himself and felt himself go. He kept cumming and cumming; more than he ever had before. After 30 seconds of ecstasy he said, “Oh Elizabeth, I need to see you again in person.”

She had put her vibrator away and then said, “You know my terms. Become as fat as that man in the donut shop, then I’ll be exclusively yours.”

Patrick shuddered with pleasure and said, “I will! I’ll get myself to immobility for you. I promise.”

                Another year passed. Daily feeding sessions continued. Then one morning Patrick waddled over to his scale. The electronic display said 480lbs. He looked in the mirror – his full beard covered his distinct triple chin, but his face still looked very round and bloated. It was the day he was waiting for. He felt he was fat enough. He grabbed a new cane that he had been using recently and began to waddle his way to the bakery. Halfway there, he felt the exhaustion of moving almost 500lbs of fat. He leaned against a storefront window to catch his breath. After a minute or so he glanced at his reflection. He saw himself, almost completely round. His rear was extremely obvious, both cheeks sticking out of his body by over 8 inches. His belly was even bigger. He wore elastic sweatpants since none of his other clothes fit him. He finally arrived at the bakery. Opening the door, the automatic bell rang and he waddled his way inside. His side rolls scraped against the doorway. Elizabeth was already there. She sat at the same table that Patrick’s mystery fat man sat at over a year and half ago. Patrick motioned to the baker and said, his mouth mumbling from all the fat, “Three dozen donuts please.”

Then he waddled over to the table. Elizabeth set up two chairs and he lowered his gigantic fat rear into the chairs to begin eating his donuts. Once they were delivered to the table he blacked out and ate until there was nothing left.

              During his binge, a thin businessman came in, looked over at Patrick, and gave him a glance of disgust.  He then gulped as he made his way out of the shop with his coffee and bagel, with no doubt that he felt the same bit of arousal at the public gluttonous display in the donut shop.

#ssbhm bhm fat feeder feedee ssbhmfantasy bhmfantasy fatfetish ffa femalefeeder malefeedee ffabhm ffassbhm femalefatadmirer

[fatdaddy2pointo]

I want you to grind that wet pussy on my belly like its a pillow until you cum all over and then ill watch you lick it off me while she fucks herself with her vibe.

#femalefatadmirer #ffa #bhm #bossman #hotlittlesluts #ffm #biwoman #kink