A Feedee's Story Ch. 06: Hunger

The alarm on my phone goes off: 9:45 AM. I reach over and turn off the alarm, groaning slightly. Silence is restored to the bedroom, and I take a moment to lie there and wake up. I turn over and, as expected, find the other side of the bed unoccupied: almost without fail, Ali gets up before I do. I consider going back to sleep, but the pang of hunger in my gut won't be ignored. There's no way I can sleep without eating first.

I swing my legs over the side of the reinforced bed. We were assured when we bought the bed that it can accommodate up to 800 pounds, but even though I'm nowhere near that limit, the bed creaks under all my weight concentrated in one spot.

I look down and take a moment to admire the view. When I first discovered feedism, I was 180 pounds; when I met Ali, I'd gained some weight, tipping the scales at a "whopping" 210 pounds. At the time, it was the fattest I'd ever been. As I look down at my body, I feel immensely lucky that Ali chose to mold me into something more. The lap that used to be there has vanished, obscured by my massive belly weighed down from gravity and countless stuffings. It's so impossibly soft and jiggly and pliable; if my legs were open a bit more, it would reach the bed, but my legs are as close together as I can manage these days, so it just rests on my thighs.

My legs were always strong, though not especially big, but gaining weight must have triggered some genetic quirk. For a while it seemed like I was only gaining weight in my upper half, and I figured I was becoming an average fat guy: big belly, big torso, chunky (but still relatively small) legs. Much to my surprise, though, my lower half caught up with a vengeance. Every new pound suddenly seemed to make a beeline for my lower body. My hips filled out: most men have little indents on their haunches, the result of men having naturally narrower hips than women. But not mine. The extra weight filled in those little indents, widened my hips and lent an additional bit of curve to my ass. And my ass: my god.

I'd always had a pretty full butt for a guy, but the extra pounds (and a new job that had me sitting in an office chair for 10-12 hours a day) kicked things into overdrive. Seemingly overnight, my ass went from "slightly larger than average" to "enormous," and not just by regular guy standards, either. On an average-sized woman, my ass would look cartoonishly large; hell, even on a big woman it would draw second, third, fourth glances, if not outright stares. Every pound I gained seemed to increase its size, yet despite the glute workout that one gets from lugging around an entire extra person's worth of fat, my ass didn't get firmer or more muscular. It just kept filling up with layer upon layer of dense fat, swaying and jiggling obscenely whenever I so much as took a step.

The changes became clear when I had to start squeezing my hips and ass between the arms of my desk chair in order to sit down. This strategy worked for a bit, until one fateful day when the arms broke. After that, I wisely invested in a desk chair without arms, but it wasn't long before my hips and ass were spilling over the sides. At first, I was taken aback by my body's decision to convert all those extra calories into an ass that could stop traffic, but I quickly grew to love everything about it. My thick blubber practically swallowing Ali's hand whenever she grabs my ass; seeing my butt and hips spreading out past my thighs whenever I sit down; the exquisite feeling of my booty and my gut jiggling in perfect rhythm whenever I walk down the hall.

My thighs have become encased in a dense, soft layer of fat, the muscle tone replaced by heavy, jiggly flesh and cellulite. I look down and admire them, so soft and fat, each one wider than my waist used to be. Between my titanic legs I can feel my cock stirring, as it always does whenever I survey my body and take stock of how fat Ali has made me. I shake off the temptation to lay back and pleasure myself--I'm still hungry, after all. I slide off the bed, my feet hitting the floor with a dull thud that sounds vaguely like someone tipping over a piece of furniture. I stretch and yawn, then head for the bathroom.

"Baby? You home?" I call. No answer. Maybe she's in the kitchen. I could use some coffee, so I head that way. Ahh, there it is: the dueling jiggles of my belly and my ass.

I reach the kitchen, but it looks like Ali's not home. Probably had to go into work. I pour myself a cup of coffee, then open the fridge. My hand goes straight past the whole milk and right to the heavy cream that Ali keeps fully stocked just for me. You never know when you'll get an urge for cereal or just a big glass of chocolate milk (or cream, in this case). I pour the cream into my coffee, stir in a few spoonfuls of sugar and sip it, leaning forward on the counter. As I do, I feel--and hear--a *rip*: my underwear.

"Ah, shit."

I wasn't the only one who was thrilled by the unexpected growth of my ass; Ali was too. As my butt kept getting bigger and bigger, she suggested that I wear women's underwear instead of boring old boxer briefs. I could pretend that it took some convincing, but I loved the idea: what's the point of having a mammoth derrière if you're just going to hide it? Since Ali was equally blessed in the posterior department, I tried a few pairs of her underwear to make sure they fit, and although they were a little on the small side, they felt like they were made for my body. Pretty soon my underwear drawer was filled with women's panties: thongs, bikinis, boyshorts; lace, satin, you name it.

The only problem is, I keep forgetting that panties aren't as durable as boxer briefs, especially when it comes to the combination of delicate lace and an ass that refuses to quit. I sigh and reach back with my hand to find the tear, and when I do it's clear there's no salvaging these. A huge tear right down the crack of my ass. I make a mental note to size up the next time Ali goes underwear shopping.

I meander to the bathroom, coffee in hand. I set the cup down on the counter, turn on the shower and switch on the wall-mounted speaker. As I wait for the shower to warm up, I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. My facial hair obscures what is now a significant double chin; once in a while I shave it just to see how much fatter my face has gotten, but Ali and I both prefer how I look with a beard. My shoulders are broad and still surprisingly muscular (likely due to genetics and years playing football and rugby), and if the mirror cut off there you might think I was a mostly in-shape guy. But it doesn't, so that particular illusion is shattered once your eyes travel a few more inches down.

My moobs--well, I don't think it's even accurate to call them "moobs" anymore. They're just breasts now: a heavy, round, hanging pair of soft tits, so big they push my arms outward. My nipples have definitely grown in size, but the extra layers of fat haven't pulled them off to the sides of my chest, so they remain surprisingly centered and perky. I cup my tits and the flesh practically overflows my hands; I let them drop and admire the jiggling wave that runs all the way down the copious flesh of my massive belly.

I lift my belly up onto the counter, partly because I want to see it in all its glory and partly because it's the easiest way for me to reach the sink. My gut droops languidly into the sink, heavy and soft, almost threatening to swallow up everything in front of it. I grab my toothbrush and turn it on, and as I brush my teeth I'm mesmerized by all the ways my fat jiggles and bounces. After two minutes, the toothbrush turns off; I keep idly brushing anyway, enraptured by how my arm fat swings with each stroke, how my tits swing in perfect rhythm, how my belly heaves and wobbles from its perch on the counter. Eventually I snap out of it, and I put the toothbrush away, take a swig of mouthwash, and pull down my torn panties.

I pick a playlist, press "Play," and step into the shower, sighing as the warm water flows over every inch of my gargantuan body. I can feel the water rushing over the little fleshy overhang created by my rolls of fat, and I lean forward to smooth out the surface of my skin and stretch my back a bit, bracing my arms against the far wall. Just then, a pair of hands grips my ass, and I jump, startled. I crane my neck around and see Ali positioned behind me, a look of unmistakable lust on her face.

"Jesus," I sigh. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry baby," she coos, her voice barely audible over the music coming from the speaker next to my ear. "I heard the shower and I just had to join you." I start to turn around, but Ali gently places a hand on my back to stop me. "Let me get your back, big boy," she purrs. I feel the heat of her body as she steps closer to me and wraps her arms as far around my gut as she can, planting a soft kiss between my shoulder blades. "I know it's tough for you to reach all the way around these days."

"Well thank you, darling," I reply. I love when we shower together--it means less work for me, which is nice, but also I can never get enough of Ali's naked body. I hand her the loofah and the soap from the shelf in front of me, and she steps back briefly to lather up the sponge. A moment later, she returns; the soft mound of her belly presses against my ass, and with one arm she gently scrubs my back while the other arm once again wraps around my waist. I sigh contentedly as she slides the loofah between my prodigious ass cheeks; my sigh turns to a moan as she glides her soapy hand across my perineum before gently fondling my balls and my hardening cock, her other hand lightly gripping as much of my tit-flesh as it can.

"Look at you," she murmurs. "Your enormous ass, your beautiful tits. If it weren't for this nice thick cock"--she emphasizes this with a light squeeze of my swollen prick--"I might mistake you for a big beautiful girl instead of a big sexy man." My knees shake as another moan escapes my lips, this time loud enough to drown out the music. Ali slides her hand off my cock and withdraws her arm from between my legs. "Turn around, my big sexy man."

I turn around and take her in. The sight of her alone is almost enough to make me cum. Even though I've done the lion's share of gaining, Ali has put on more than a few pounds herself, and she looks more radiant than ever. Her arms are so plump, so full of luscious fat. Her tits put mine to shame: two perfect protrusions of soft flesh and fat, resting atop her perfect double belly that flows seamlessly into impossibly wide hips that flow ever outward. Her thighs are so thick and dense that they engulf my whole head, and even though having them wrapped around me means I might never resurface, if the last thing I ever felt was her pillowy legs holding my head against her clit I would go smiling into the darkness. I reach out for her, desperate just to feel her skin against my skin. I pull her close and kiss her deeply as our abundant flesh presses together, yielding and bulging in unison. I start to slide my hand between her legs, but Ali places her plump hand on my chest, forcing me to take a step back.

"Uh-uh. Right now is all about you," she grins. "Have a seat."

Grateful that we found a place with a roomy shower and a reinforced bench, I take a seat. Ali kneels in front of me and runs her hands up my enormous thighs, coaxing them apart. She lifts up my hanging gut with one hand and shoots me one more mischievous grin before lowering her head between my legs. I gasp as I feel her tongue gently lap up the precum leaking from the head of my cock, and I can't help but utter a short "Oh!" and shudder with pleasure as she slides her warm, wet mouth down the length of my shaft.

I can just barely see Ali's head bobbing up and down beneath my humongous gut, and the combined sensations of her mouth gently massaging my swollen prick as one hand fondles my balls and the other gently kneads the soft flesh of my underbelly is almost too much to take. My hands cup and jiggle my fat breasts as Ali pleasures me, and I feel the beginnings of an intense orgasm rising from deep within me.

"Oh fu--mmm, baby," I gasp as I near the point of no return. My thighs twitch as the orgasm builds, and I throw my head back in ecstasy. Then...heartbreak. I feel Ali's mouth slide off my cock with agonizing slowness, the warmth of her tongue and lips replaced by the warmth of my underbelly as she lets my gut settle back down between my legs.

"Nooo," I groan in frustration as my legs quiver in anticipation of an orgasm that, evidently, isn't coming just yet. Ali stands up and runs her hands over my body, planting little kisses on my belly, my tits, my neck. Then, her lips meet mine and we share a deep, passionate kiss. My hands grip her enormous ass as I try desperately to pull her closer. My balls are tight with what feels like gallons of hot cum, and I just want to pump it all inside her. Ali steps back.

"Finish up in here. Then I want to see that big fat ass back in bed."

Ali steps out of the shower; I heave myself off the bench, but I can't tell if I'm panting from the physical exertion or from sexual frustration. For a moment I contemplate finishing what she started myself, but tempting as it might be, I know I can't. To do so would be to disappoint Ali, and pleasing her feels better than any pleasure I could possibly give to myself. Sighing, I lather up my front, taking care to avoid my throbbing cock so as not to tempt myself (I'm only human, after all). Finally, I turn off the water and the speaker and step out of the shower.

I grab a towel and dry off. As I do, I look on the floor for the panties so I can throw them away, but they're nowhere to be found. I dry off and head back to the bedroom. I reach the doorway of our bedroom, and there she is. From where I'm standing I can only see her face and her tits, but that's enough; my cock immediately begins to throb again, aching with anticipation. And there, at the foot of the bed, are the panties I just ripped. "Ah, I see you found these," I say.

"I did," Ali replies. "I noticed quite a, uh...significant tear in them, though." I blush and shrug. "Yeah, I keep forgetting they're not as durable as my old underwear," I say, picking them up.

"We'll have to get you some new ones the next time we go shopping. But for now...put those on," Ali says. That mischievous look is back, so I slide them back on. "Now turn around," she says. I do as I'm told, turning 180 degrees and showing her the torn fabric. I turn back around, and now I can see all of Ali: not just her mammoth breasts, but her beautiful belly, her audaciously soft thighs...and the thick strap-on around her waist.

"You and that big, fat ass of yours," Ali breathes as her pudgy hands slide up and down the shaft, coating it with lube. "I swear you do this just to tempt me."

"I don't!" I say, putting a hand on my chest as if swearing a solemn oath. Now I return the mischievous grin. "But I don't mind tempting you."

"Come here," Ali says firmly. I climb onto the bed and assume the position, settling on all fours next to her. I look over to see her shaking her head. She nods in the direction of the strap-on. "Have a seat, my panty-busting piggy."

I hesitate. "Are you sure? I might be too heavy for you, an--"

"'Too heavy'?" Ali interrupts. "You're nowhere near that size. Well, not yet anyway." She reaches over and grabs a handful of my blubbery booty. "Now, bring that fat ass over here--I want to watch you jiggle while you ride my cock. And since your panties are perfect for easy access now, you might as well keep them on." The tone of Ali's voice has me more than a little turned on, but I'm still worried about hurting her. I know 385 pounds isn't enough to crush her, but 385 pounds bouncing up and down? Doesn't that weigh more due to gravity? Are Newtons involved? I desperately wish I'd paid attention in physics class. Suddenly I feel Ali's hand on my cheek, turning my head towards her. "I promise you won't hurt me. Now hop on, big boy."

Well, here goes nothing.

My thighs are so enormous that I struggle to spread them wide enough to accommodate Ali's immense hips, but I eventually manage. I kneel above her, and I think about asking again whether she's sure about this, but the look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know. This is what she wants, and how could I refuse after everything she's given me? The least I can do is let her watch my tremendously fat body in motion while she fucks my colossal ass; after all, I wouldn't have any of it if not for her. I slowly sink back on my heels, feeling the tear in my underwear widening as my ass cheeks spread apart.

The tip of the strap-on presses against my opening. Ali grinds her hips upwards, so eager you'd think the silicone phallus was actually a part of her body. I ease down onto her cock, taking inch after inch, the two of us moaning together in shared passion. I remember when Ali first started fucking me with a strap-on, and all I could focus on was the pain; now, all I feel is pleasure. I slide further and further down until my ass is nestled on top of Ali's thighs. She is inside me. I take a moment to enjoy the feeling of indescribable fullness.

I lean back, bracing my arms against the bed to keep myself from tumbling backwards. Ali lifts up my massive gut once again and rubs my throbbing cock through my panties, then reaches her warm hands inside the lacy underwear and pulls my cock out. My arms and legs tremble, both from the exertion and the shudder of pleasure that courses through my body. I lean forward slightly, and my cock is sandwiched between my belly and Ali's, a perfect blend of warmth and pressure. I lift myself up gently, then slide back down on the strap-on; after a few of these, I feel Ali's hands gripping my gut. I look down.

"Ride me."

I start to rock my hips: towards her, then away from her. My belly and ass gently undulate with each motion. Forward, backward. Forward, backward. Forward, backward, adding a little more force each time. I look down and admire the sight of Ali's tits bouncing in time with my rhythm; then I realize my own tits are jiggling in time with hers. "Mmm, you fat fucking slut," Ali moans loudly, briefly closing her eyes before quickly re-opening them and focusing on the sight in front of her. My cock pulses as I think of what a sight it must be: my soft blubber rippling and wobbling, my tits heaving and crashing against my gut as I grind my ample ass onto Ali's strap-on.

Harder now: forward, backward. Harder.

"You love this, don't you baby?" Ali pants. "You love how my cock fills up that giant fat ass of yours, don't you?" I'm panting with exertion and lust, too winded to formulate a full sentence, and a short "Yeah" is all I can manage. Ali grips my gut again and smirks at me, bucking her hips upward and driving the strap-on deep inside my ass. "That's not good enough, my piggy slut," she retorts. "You know what I want to hear."

"I...I love...your cock in...my g-...giant fat ass," I eventually gasp. I never knew being on top was this tiring. Ali's thrusting slows.

"Someone's not used to this much cardio," she grins. "But I know that's because you're too busy being my fat piggy slut, so let's give you a break. Lie on your back." I muster just enough strength to raise myself off Ali's strap-on, then topple over to the side and crash on the mattress next to her. Despite my exhaustion, my cock is still rock-hard--I want more. Ali stands up and walks to the foot of the bed, her substantial body and her dildo bouncing obscenely with each step. She pats the foot of the bed and beckons me closer; I slide my considerable bulk towards her with the dogged determination of a trapped miner clawing through layers of shale to reach fresh air. She is my reward; I am hers.