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You love gluttony. You need it not to be forced, not put on for your benefit, but to be its own kind of unignorable compulsion.
You’re good at spotting this quality in people, this certain insatiability… and you’ve come to need it.
You first noticed he had this essential quality about him on your first date. You replayed the image of how quickly he scarfed down his carbonara over and over again as you lay in bed that night.
Feeling the heat swell in between your legs as you remember how he smirked at you as he walked you home; he tilted his head and asked “So you like chubby guys, huh?”
You blush in embarrassment at your own over-enthused reply, “Yes, actually I prefer them!”
He has no idea just how deep it goes…
In reality, you need hunger that can be likened to lust — innate and animalistic.
For him, it’s an irresistible instinct. He may try his hardest to fight against it, but it overtakes him anyway
He always cleans his plate and wishes for more. He devours what’s in front of him with so much delight that he overlooks the quantity.
One time, you two were sitting on a park bench when he admitted to you that he was once “as heavy as 290.” You blacked out after that, you simply don’t remember the rest of the conversation. All there was after that was 290. 290. 290. You hope your reaction wasn’t too incredulous.
Usually after a hearty meal, he’ll slowly rise from his chair and place a hand on his soft, protruding belly. Sometimes he’ll even let out a sigh of both contentment and resignation as he says, “Oof, I’m actually really full.” Or “I ate that way too quickly.” You wonder if he’s saying this just for you, if he secretly knows. You hope that he does.
You love to see his t-shirt pucker out at the hem, his belly pressing the fabric away from him. Your eyes can’t help but linger over the straining fabric around his soft center. After all, with any slight movement there’s a chance that you could see a doughy crescent of pudge peak out.
As you lie in bed together, you try your hardest to be casual as your breath hitches in your chest. It feels as though you’re conducting advanced calculations — if you drape your hand around the curve of his bulging mass will he notice? What if you place your arm directly underneath his plush overhang, is that more discreet? Will he notice how your pulse quickens? If you press the full plane of your palm against his taut yet supple midsection when he’s this full, will he be embarrassed? Does he realize how desperately you want him? How transfixed you are by his bulk?
When he turns over to envelope you in a hug, and you feel all of him pressed against every inch of you — can he sense your desperation for his flesh? Does he realize that no matter how much of him you get — no matter if you get to grab every fold, explore every cushy crevice — that it will never be enough? When you look at him, all you can think is squeeze, bite, taste, devour. Surely your eyes betray you. That’s why it’s so hard to meet his gaze.
He may be the one eating, but you are the one that’s always hungry.
You ache for his heavy thrusts. You thank some unnamed ancient god for his powerful shoulders and robust arms that allow him to enter you so forcefully. The brawn that lies just beneath his delectable, velvety layer of chub is a reminder of just how formidable he is.
And lastly, as he finally unleashes his load, as if to give you a parting gift, the muscles he was using to hold himself up and hold himself back relax. A heavy mound of roundness crashes against you. For a fleeting moment, you get to be pinned down by the weight of your own unmentionable desire. You don’t have to deny, you don’t have to evade, you don’t have to pretend. You can just be.
This is your own private, fat-fetishizing, chubby-chasing, adipose-admiring rapture.
I genuinely need to see someone so desperate to impress me that they'll stuff themselves to the point of being in a food coma every single day. I want them to be in a calorie surplus by the time they finish their breakfast so every other meal and snack and thoughtless mouthful goes straight to the scales. The need to have someone send me progress pics and regular weigh ins so I can see exactly how much they've grown for me, maybe even graph it 😵💫
as far as I’m concerned body fat is THEE stim material of all time and I’m done pretending it isn’t. it’s ALWAYS warm, soft, and inviting. idk abt yall but I love resistance & pressure, so the weight of fat/fat body parts is glorious. there’s just so many ways to stim
cupping a boob in your hand. just hold it. let the weight of it fill your palm
idly bouncing a boob against your fingers
bouncing a belly hang against your palm
laying back and finding the center of the belly and pressing intermittently. bwomp bwomp bwomp. look at that ripple
rubbing back and forth along the bottom of an overhang, noting how the bottom of the belly is soft in a different way from the top (bonus points for dimpled overhangs, W bellies, stretchmarks, cellulite)
curling your fingers around a roll. squeezing, massaging, holding
using a roll to shake a whole belly
framing a belly with both hands and squeezing, squishing, bouncing
wobbling a wide, jiggly thigh
placing ur fingers underneath a shelf of an ass and bouncing. one cheek, both cheeks, who gaf
tracing the curve of plump cheeks, double chins, soft necks with a knuckle or the pads of your fingers
splaying your hand across any wide, soft body part (belly, sides, thighs, ass) and just. feeling. rocking the palm back and forth, pressing fingertips against the surface. soaking up the warmth and comfort
running your hand up and down a whole fat torso, chest to hips, memorizing the landscape of rolls and swells and stretch marks and cellulite
finding clusters of older stretchmarks, noting the different textures between it and unmarked skin
and we absolutely CANNOT forget the ultimate simple pleasure of rubbing biiig slow circles all around the circumference of a sweet round tummy
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Thinking about casual feedism where we cook and bake our hearts away, trying new recipes in bigger batches, so we can have leftovers for the next day. Of course we rarely end up with leftovers, but that doesn't matter much, it only means we can cook together again 💖
to be seen without performing. to be heard without screaming. to be missed without disappearing. to be enough without proving it. to be held without falling apart. to be understood without explaining. to be wanted without conditions. to be. to be.
My cute, chubby boy who clears every plate I bring him and eats every bite from my hand when he’s too full to raise the fork to his own mouth. He’s so eager to grow for me.
My sweet, fat boy who looks me in the eyes while he moans and sucks every morsel of dessert off of my fingers. He protests that he’s about to burst but I know he’ll push through the pain because I want every inch of him softer and thicker.
My big, heavy boy who groans and drags my hand from his chest to his warm, firm belly before sucking down the remaining heavy cream from the carton at his lips. He makes a pig of himself every night at dinner to show off, knowing I’ll keep stuffing him afterwards while he’s weighed down in bed. He’s so desperate to show me just how fat he’s willing to grow for me.
He says his size is in my hands, that I can fatten him up as big as I want. He doesn’t realize I could never have too much of him.
okay but realistic, domestic feedism and fat appreciation? that's where it's at.
sitting in your feeder's lap and getting your belly stroked, squeezed, and played with while you eat. weekly morning weigh-ins before breakfast (which is served in bed, of course). letting your belly hang and your love handles poke out of your shirts and pants around the house. your feeder gently feeding you with one hand and pleasuring you with the other. letting them bury their face in your gut--belly rubs and kisses galore!
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Idk who needs to hear this but if you're on the fence with gaining, if you like stuffing but are afraid of the effects, if you want to be fat when you're horny but get "post nut clarity", just do it. Just gain weight. Will you be insecure? Yes, but I promise you will have insecurities at your lowest weight as well. Even your ideal perfect body comes with insecurities. You might as well make yourself happy by eating food you like and being full, and if you don't 100% love the body that comes with it, that's okay too. It's a body made out of love rather than hating yourself into being thin. You can learn to love yourself over time, or you can just exist! Your body is the least interesting thing about you and being fat likely won't be as noticeable as you fear.
Insecurities are always bound to appear because we live in a society that's not only fatphobic, but also racist, colorist and misogynistic. And even if you fit into the ridiculous standards, it's always a constant chase of "perfection" the insecurities will never disappear just like that, it's something that must be worked through the mind
So might as well build a body that feels more like home to you, rather than chase something that someone else likes.
the way im incapable of having a conversation about weight with normal people. those conversations feel like a mine field because there are no right answers. im not gonna feel sorry for you that you gained weight and i dont have any dieting tips and your self depreciating weight jokes arent funny and i dont feel like congratulating you on your weight loss with how mean to your past self you are being and it doesnt feel good that you think that me wanting to gain weight is weird or stupid. sorry
scenario I’ve been rotating in my head recently is someone overeating by accident and getting belly rubs for the first time and immediately latching onto the intimacy of it. but they’re too shy to ask for them again, so they start stuffing themselves uncomfortably full all. the. time. and just being generally pitiful about how much their tummy hurts to get more. this of course results in a pretty significant gain, as well as a developing addiction to the feeling of being stuffed. by the time they just come out and admit they wanted attention but didn’t know how to ask for it, gorging themselves has become a daily activity.
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