I don’t want to get fatter. I NEED to be fatter. Much fatter. Sure I’m happy with my progress. I feel more attractive and sexier now than when I was skinny. I love how my fluff feels when I move, feels to my touch and how it looks. But I want more. I need more. I love it. I’m addicted to it - the fat, the food, the life, the growing. I'm inspired by the beautiful very large models I post. I want to be as big and as beautiful and sexy as they are. One day I will be as huge as they are. I know it.

    Food and Sex

     Food and Sex                                                                                                                                                                    

      Your feeder pulls his lips from yours and begins to move his mouth toward your ear: your breath quickens, you know what’s coming. He releases the button on your tight shorts and you gasp as your heavy belly plumps forward and hangs exposed, wobbling…wobbling. He kisses your ear, then neck, as he rolls up the tight shirt he made you wear. his kisses are more gentle now, he nibbles your ear lobe and he slides his thumb into your DEEP belly button. Working his  fingers and thumb, he kneads the bloated fat, squeezing, tugging, his breath growing ragged and desperate.

    “What’s all this, sweetie?” he says.

    “Oh god, oh god…my tummy.”

    He laughs, “ Naughty girl, you say it like it’s just a cute little thing, toned and flat. But it’s not toned and flat, is it?”

    You moan and arch your back,“Mmmmm…uhnn…no, no, it’s a big…big fat blubber gut, a mound of f*cking pig jelly. No amount of sucking in can hide it anymore.”

    “I can’t remember, did you have this big pile of blubber when I met you?”

    You whimper and grab the counter to balance yourself.

    “No, oh god, no,  you’ve put so much f*cking weight on me, you’ve turned me into a glutton, a lazy fat pig… oh f*ck, I love it so much.”

    He leaves your side and walks to the refrigerator and grabs a cherry pie, then a half gallon of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. He sets them in front of you on the counter.

    “No eating ‘til I say.”

    You’re so wet. He pulls your shorts down and pushes your face closer to the ice cream, the  pie. You can smell the freshly baked crust, see condensation forming on the carton as the ice cream softens. He slides his cock inside you, f*ck, he’s so hard. He enters slowly and then gives a playful quick thrust. Your belly sloshes forward, slaps the edge of the counter and then rebounds and slaps your thighs. Your hips and ass jiggle, your inner thighs jiggle, your back fat jiggles. He grunts, deep and guttural, as you push your soft ass back against him; you tug your nipple, aching to have him deeper.

    He reaches around from behind you - he’s moving his cock slowly, teasing you, teasing you - and grabs a fistful of pie. He holds the handful to your lips, "Eat for me, you greedy fat pig, show me what a good, filthy, hungry piggy you can be.”

    You eat desperately from his hand, snorting, grunting, choking down the pie. He slaps the side of your pendulous belly, “Get it all, you f*cking greedy whore, you fat, face-stuffing pigslut.”

    You devour the pie, licking and sucking his fingers as you fuck. He grabs another handful, “Fill that big, greedy hog-belly, you overfed blimp, embarrass yourself for me.”

    You stretch your neck and open your mouth as wide as you can, your cheeks stretch, your belly stretches, your feeder packs you with pie: Your swelling belly, a throat straining with overfeeding, small orgasms contract and release. Your eyes roll back, you scream with pleasure. Your fat arms give under your weight and you collapse into the pie. Your feeder slides a chair over and sits you down on top of him. His cock pushes even deeper.

    Your belly presses out onto your lap. He continues to f*ck you slowly. He reaches around you with both arms and begin to grab and pinch your belly. “EAT! Eat! you fat f*cking hog, pull that pie closer, grab that ice cream!”

    He gropes your rolls and jiggles your fat roughly. Your pull the pie forward and tear the ice cream carton down the side: One hand in the pie, one hand in the ice cream. You stuff yourself by the fistful. You roar out a belch, your fat belly plumps further onto your lap, your ribcage expands to accomodate your piggishness. Your cheeks stretch again, cherry filling and ice cream dribble down your chin, your double chin, your tits, your swollen belly. You’re so desperate to be filled, he’s ***ing you so slowly and you need it hard.

    He rubs your clit quickly as he kneads roll after growing roll of pig-fat. You pound more pie into your fat face, followed by more ice cream, the tension gathers, oh fuck, you’re coming again. Rather than satiate you, the orgasms turn you ravenous- you need more food, more of his dick - you need to come so hard.

    “God, you’re getting heavy, you fat f*cking whale. Do you remember when we first met? You could sit on my lap and do this all day. Now look at you. God, what pig. Look at what a fat lazy sow you’ve become.”

    You’re panting, you’re so out of shape, oh god, the pie is almost gone, you push in another fistful of ice cream, your belly stretches more, he begins to increase the speed of his strokes. He pulls your wide ass apart, he lightly strokes your clit. He fucks faster. Sound begins to distort, your mind becomes clouded, all you can think about is coming.

    The two of you slide from the chair to the floor, his swollen cock still inside you. He postions you on all fours, oh f*ck, oh f*ck, you can feel your stuffed belly grazing the cold tile floor.  He empties the soft ice cream into the pie tin and drops it in front of you. “Feed that gut, fatso, tell me again how you could never let yourself turn into a big fat blimp, how you LOVE CrossFit, how it’s your life.”

    You grunt-scream and plunge your face into the delicious vanilla cherry pie slurry. You gulp it down, slurping loudly, smacking your lips, oinking,oinking, oinking for your feeder.

    “Oh baby, you’re such a good feeder, it’s true crossfit is my life, I could never let myself turn into one of those huge fat pigs, never.”

    He laughs and slaps your heavy dimpled ass delightedly for emphasis and begins to fuck harder, faster. Everything in your body tightens, you can feel the orgasm coming.

    As your belly drags on the floor, as the cherry pie slop drips from your chin, as he fuck-feeds you to the verge of orgasm, you remember the day you first met outside the gym: How you silently pleaded that he would be the one to fatten you, to ruin your perfect body, make you his fat, growing piggy. He had. You never made it to the gym that day, or ever again. After a few minutes of flirting he convinced you to come with him, and he fed you that day. He fed you and made you come harder than you had ever come before. He made you eat while he took you from behind and told you he knew your secret, knew what a fat little piggy you really were. You gasped and came and ate and ate, desperate to show him how right he was.

    Your mind returns to the present as he pushes your face into the pie slop. You suck the tin clean as he pushes his cock deep and holds the pressure for second, the releases. You choke and slurp and splutter and lick the tin clean.

    “That’s it, PIG, get it all, show me what a good tubby fuckpig you are.”

    He presses your face into the bottom of the tin as you lap greedily at the last bits of crust. He buries his cock once more and it’s all too much. You feel pressure in your neck and skull, your anus tightens, your lower belly, your inner thighs - you come and come and come. Your arms shudder and give out, your thighs weaken and your soft fleshy body slides to the floor. You lay face down in the pie tin, panting and moaning. He gently slides his still-hard cock out and rubs it hungrily while he admires his bloated satisfied pig. You struggle to your knees, face smeared with pie crust, cherry filling and drying ice cream. You smile at him and take his cock in your mouth. He can hardly keep control. He leans into the counter for support and tips his head back. He cries out, moans, and sags against the counter as you begin to suck. “Oh, mmmm, mmmm, just like that, just like that, you filthy fat whore, oh god, you beached whale,mmm, fuck, such a good girl, oh, I love the way you, the way you-”

    His back arches, his neck, his eyes close tightly as he cums hard, so hard, so hard and collapses slowly all the way to the floor. You keep his cock in your mouth, careful to not move as he stetches out on the floor  blissfully. As he softens in your mouth, you  release his cock and crawl on top of him. He groans under your weight and pulls you close.  You kiss his cheek, his ear and say, “When you get your strength back, honey, I could really use something to eat. All this eating and fucking makes me hungry.”

    He laughs and kisses your forehead, out of the corner of your eye you see his cock twitch and growing hard once again.