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Friday was finally here. The month-long week was over and its anxieties, demands, and expectations could be put down–at least for the night. They didn’t get to every week, but when they could, Gillian and Owen loved to relax together. Nothing made them feel closer and more intimately comfortable than just being themselves together.
Friday nights were a slow deep breath for Owen. Knowing it was over, that they made it through the hard part, they were safe with each other and could let it all hang out–Owen a bit more literally than Gillian. On Friday nights, Owen’s middle definitely seemed to expand more as he relaxed. All week he subconsciously held his gut in, tensing his abdominal muscles, even if they hadn’t been visible for quite a few years under the moderate layer of fat that covered him. Holding them slightly flexed was a small act of self-protection from the daily expectation of being him, one he didn‘t even know he was doing. But Gillian saw it. She could tell when Owen’s shoulders put down their invisible load and his middle filled out his shirt just that little bit more than usual.
Gillian unwound in her own way. Always spring-loaded, she didn’t expand on Friday nights: she recharged. Her energy came from so many places but on Fridays like this it was as if the shaggy rug at the foot of the couch was her charging pad and the controller in hand and game on the big screen, the power source.
Setting down a tumbler with three fingers of Bowmore 12 over a big rock and flopping down on the couch behind Gillian with his London Dry Gin and tonic (the more piney the better as far as he was concerned), Owen said, “What sounds good for dinner?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Gillian absent-mindedly responded as she weighed the merits of which character to play as tonight. “Why don’t you pick? Whatever you want. Here, use my phone, I’ll pay.” She passed her device over her shoulder for Owen to take. “You always pick the best things anyway.”
Owen took the phone and scrolled through the local restaurant delivery app. “What about sushi? It’s Friday after all, and delivery sushi is the height of modern luxury living,” he suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds good to me. Will you get me a miso soup and a rainbow roll?” Gillian said as her character beheaded the ghoul it had been tousling with. She snuck a peck of her scotch while she could. “Or, you know, you’re always hungry a little bit after sushi, maybe something else?”
“Too? I didn’t realize it was that kind of night,” Owen mused, eyebrows raised, already adding her order to his 7-roll-heavy cart.
Gillian yelped as two ghoulish things bore down on her character on screen. “Yah, sure seems like it!” she said distractedly, her tongue peaking out of the side of her mouth in concentration as she started to battle.
Owen shrugged internally to himself. He wasn’t entirely sure that answered the question he asked, but it sounded like an agreement to him. It had been ten days since they had really fed him last but he had only lost 1 pound since then and they had both decided he should lose 5 more before they stuffed him again. But if Gill had decided differently, he was certainly not going to argue. They could get him to the gym a bit more next week, after all. There wasn’t a rush to lose weight or anything.
Owen’s decidedly not-epic internal struggle concluded, he placed the sushi order and looked for another restaurant that would go well after a sushi “appetizer.” He decided to stay with Asian cuisine and went for Thai. Gillian ALWAYS wanted pad thai–one less hot than Thai hot–so, no need to ask her order. He added drunken noodles and a green curry to the new cart.
“And why not, a Thai iced tea too,” he thought.
Delaying the second order in the app for a half hour, he set Gillian’s phone down next to her drink and heaved himself up to go to the kitchen to refresh his own.
“What did you decide on?” Gillian called in Owen’s direction
Head deep in the refrigerator looking at a Japanese beer in one hand and a bottle of rose in the other. Sapporo was correct culinarily but it was spring time and rose flowed like water in Owen’s house in the spring. And it wasn’t like the rose would clash with the sushi; it would go well. But how often do you get to have a beer actually from the area your cuisine is from? Owen called back, “I don’t know, I’m having a hard time deciding.”
That boy! thought Gillian. Leave it to him to get so caught up in all the foods available that he’d leave himself hungry by not picking any one. She grabbed her phone and quickly ordered their usual from the pizza place Owen was obsessed with. It’s Friday night and it will take ages to get here, but I know he loves this and at least there is something on its way, she grumbled to herself lightheartedly.
She loved that Owen was obsessed with food and couldn’t possibly ever get enough. She loved even more when that resulted in him so full he was moaning from the strain in his stomach. Squirming just a bit at the passing thought of Owen stuffed to bursting, Gillian forced herself to refocus on her game. They had both adulted and decided he would lose a few pounds between feedings. There was no point in getting excited.
“I went with the rose,” Owen said as he sat down again. He luxuriated in stretching his legs, kicking off his shoes and settling into the couch to watch her play and wait for the sushi delivery. He even cuddled his leg up to her side so they could sit together.
Smiling to herself, Gillian could feel her partner vibe. A relaxed Owen was a treat. A little bit of a lush at times, but only in the best way.
Looking down at the side of her face, seeing a bit of her hair tucked behind her ear and the beautiful skin of her neck, Owen’s heart grew. She was perfect. So smart, so passionate. A community pillar, and she liked him for him. The fact that she was pretty too just seemed like showing off.
Occasionally chatting, Owen watched Gillian play, scrolling through his phone and reading a bit until the doorbell rang.
“That was quicker than I expected,” Gillian said as she, true to form, bounced up to answer the door.
“Really? I thought these guys were always pretty quick. I mean, that’s what you want from delivery sushi,” Owen replied as Gillian hustled in that cute way only pixie women seem to be able to.
Ohhhhh. It dawned on Gillian. He ordered the sushi after all. So I ordered an extra dinner.
Never a feeder to miss an opportunity for some fun, she kept that new knowledge to herself. She smiled widely while tipping the delivery person. I mean, Theo’s between feedings but maybe a cheat day would be a nice treat… for both of us. She could feel a slight kindling of her feeder fire warming up. It felt good, it felt right. Especially as a treat for Owen.
“Phew, this is a heavy order tonight mister,” Gillian cooed with a twinkle in her eye. “A woman offers to buy you dinner and you just have to take financial advantage of her and order the whole menu plus the kitchen sink.”
“No way, no ma’am, I restrained myself.” Which he most certainly hadn’t. “The weight must be that miso soup of yours. Filling up on liquid when there are spider and Philadelphia rolls to enjoy!” he said, rolling his eyes in mock disbelief. “Who understands you skinny people.” He made air quotes around “skinny.” They both knew he meant people who weren’t feedees.
Gillian laid out the spread on the coffee table. It was Friday night, not a time for formality. Most of the table was covered with Owen’s portion of the order. True to his word, there was a spider roll, Philadelphia roll, and a love roll. There was also a dynamite roll, a big boy roll, a yellowfin scallion roll and a ninja roll. He rationalized that he hadn’t bought all specialty rolls, with the yellowfin scallion roll, but if he was really asked about it, he added that to the cart at the end because he realized he HAD ordered all specialty rolls and couldn’t decide which to take out.
Gillian was a quick eater, even if she didn’t eat much, and drank half her miso and a few pieces of her rainbow roll while Owen was still getting his place setting situated. The restaurant knew the address and had made sure to put in plenty of wasabi and pickled ginger. He liked his wasabi and organic low sodium soy sauce mixed thickly for dipping the rolls and it took a little bit of time to get the consistency just how he liked it.
Not to say Owen was slow. Once his eater’s mise-en-place was finished, he dug in with his usual exuberance. A sip of wine, a taste of this, a bit of ginger, another roll, a tad more soy sauce, a bit of that. It really was amazing to watch a feedee like Owen “work.” The equivalent of two rolls were gone before it seemed like he’d taken a breath.
“Man, I was hungry,” sighed Owen, relaxing for a moment, chopsticks held up waiting to snatch the next morsel.
“You are always hungry, babe,” said Gillian. “It’s one of the things I love most about you.” She finished almost purring by the end of the sentence.
Owen smiled, winked and leaned in for a kiss. Gillian’s lips were warm and tasted like miso soup, making him regret not getting an order for himself.
Fuck, I like her. Owen’s brain ground a gear, stuck on primal lust a moment. Reengaging with the real world, he recovered somewhat. “Good, because I don’t see that changing any time soon, at least around you.” He leaned back, trying to be cool, but knowing his one-liner was decidedly not. He puffed his belly out a bit knowing she would notice his flirting and rested the hand holding the stemless wineglass on his stomach, drawing even more attention to the gaps forming between the buttons on his shirt. “How’s the miso tonight?”
“It was good,” said Gillian. “I’m done with it though, you can have the rest, if you want.” She knew full well he did want, in fact, and handed him the bowl before he responded.
Owen took a good long pull straight from the bowl, spoons be damned, and set it down, empty, on the side table. Finished in one go. He shifted his attention back into his sushi and Gillian turned back to her game leaving one piece of her roll. She played on only slightly distracted from her quest by the appreciative moans and happy ahhhs coming from over her shoulder as Owen gleefully ate his way through his rolls.
I’m glad I’m getting down to the last few pieces, thought Owen. All the rice is getting a little plain now, but god this place does so good with their fish. He could feel his stomach expanding to accommodate his feasting. It felt good. Like curling under a warm blanket on a cool morning, feeling his belly slightly expanded filled him with peace, contentment and, frankly, a desire for more. He was far from stuffed, but he was satisfied with the meal. His tucked in the button-down pulling up from his pants and the small peeks between the buttons were starting to gape, leaving less to the imagination. A stifled burp escaped his lips, not lost on Gillian’s ears. Just a small reminder that her boy was eating right there with her. They were together, happy and feeding Owen.
There was a knock at the door.
“Oh!” exclaimed Owen, remembering the Thai food coming.
“I’ll get it, you stay right there, boy, and finish adding those rolls to your rolls,” teased Gillian.
Owen complied, groaning just slightly as he leaned forward for one of the last few pieces. It was inevitable, the way Owen ate, his already not-insignificant stomach became more significant and made leaning forward from the couch to the low coffee table harder and harder the more he had. Like trying to close an overfilled suitcase, there just wasn’t much give in Owen’s middle. Firm and getting firmer, he had to exert himself to reach very far at all.
At least these will go quickly, he mused, letting out a sigh as he reclined again. I want to dig into those noodles…and put on a show for Gill.
Gillian smirked to herself as she padded to the door once more. She was very much going to enjoy seeing Owen’s face when she brought him the pizza. It wasn’t until she tipped the delivery driver two little bundles of cash because she was so entranced by her mental Owen preview that she realized she wasn’t holding a pizza, but was actually carrying a quite weighty bag. Confused, she turned back to the door, but the driver was already in his car. Not wanting to look like a crazy lady chasing the delivery driver down the road, she walked back into the living room smelling the unmistakable aroma from their favorite Thai restaurant.
Owen looked a dream, belly protruding over his belt, leaning back on the couch, feet up, head back. Totally content. She knew this phase, he was actually feeling full. Nowhere near stuffed, but full for the first time in at least a week. It looked so good on him. Not as good as when he was naked, spread eagle on their bed, overstimulated from being stuffed to bursting, but still, damn good. It turned her on just a bit more, seeing him like this and knowing he would be so much more before the night was over. But still, where did the delivery come from?
“Owen, do you know why I just double tipped the Thai food delivery guy?” she asked.
“You were feeling generous on a Friday evening?”
“I mean, yes, but why is there Thai being delivered at all? I thought we were having sushi tonight.”
“We did.” Owen raised an eyebrow in mild confusion. “You said tonight was a two-for, remember? I figured I’d stay in the Asian genre for round number two. Don’t worry, I got you the pad thai and ordered it how you like it. One less than Thai hot.” Owen scrambled, really hoping he hadn’t broken the no-stuffing truce and was in trouble about it.
Gillian was still a bit confused by how this happened, but seeing Owen squirm like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, it didn’t really matter. Clearly, Owen thought they had decided to let him stuff himself tonight and she was not going to argue with that. He looked divine filled to his gills. She wasn’t going to bring up the diet they’d agreed on, especially when she had her own secret for Owen coming later.
She decided to play it nonchalant, going back to her game and letting Owen enjoy himself, knowing full well that however full he was now, he wasn’t more than a third of the way finished yet. That thought added to the slow build of the steam engine that was her libido. Once she got hot to operating temperature, she wasn’t stopping for anything until she got to where she was going. Definitely distracted, she sat down and picked up her controller.
Owen took the new bag and set out the spread with decidedly more effort when leaning over than before. Fresh plates, napkins, cutlery; he liked keeping tidy, even if finishing this meant he was going to be a total mess. His mouth watered. Gillian clearly wasn’t interested in the pad thai and didn’t even seem to have batted an eye at him ordering himself a second dinner.
God, I love that woman, he thought. She is totally down for me just gorging myself tonight, and lord knows I need it. He leaned back. Entirely by feel, because he couldn’t see over his rounded belly, he unbuckled his belt and then, sucking in (not easy to do) he popped open the top of his slacks. The zipper slid down agreeably and Owen sighed at the release of his constricted middle, his belly growing just a tad bigger with its new freedom. He was a happy man, and soon to be a very full one too.
He took a swig of beer and went about heaping his plate. Most people call them chargers, maybe even a serving plate, but to Owen they had always seemed like the perfect vessel for a feedee sized portion. Pad thai and drunken noodles first. The green curry would mingle too much and needed its own serving. Normally, he was a chopstick kind of guy but tonight he didn’t have the patience for chopsticks, and fork in hand, he dug into his plate like a man who had skipped breakfast and lunch, instead of a man on his fourth meal of the day.
He focused on the magnificent flavors in his mouth. The sweet, dark soy sauce dressing of the drunken noodles, followed by the spice and bright tamarind of the pad thai, then back again. Ping ponging his way through half of each dish in his first plate, he could feel his stomach starting to really expand now, finally passing pleasantly full and moving just a bit toward stuffed. He finished his first plate with a huge forkful of the pad thai and, being out of the drunken noodles, cut the heat with a good long draft of his beer. Two “sips” and only an inch left in the bottle.
“Urrrpppp,” came the deep burp out of Owen. He was not yet so full that he would have foam high up in his stomach to muffle the sound. Loudly grunting in effort to lean forward, Owen went for the green curry this time. He had to lean slightly sideways to reach for the container. His stomach really was getting very full. All the pressure was in his upper abdomen, a higher-pitched type of stuffed as his stomach tried to churn and make room for everything it had already consumed. The pain was sharp and shallow, almost like a constant pinch from inside. It wasn’t Owen’s favorite part of being stuffed, but it happened every time. Inevitable with how greedy he was and how fast he ate.
Fantastic discomfort aside, after filling his plate with the entire container of curry poured over jasmine white rice to give it some extra body, he looked up at the TV. Gillian was still playing, pretending to be unaware of the glutton Owen was making of himself behind her. Now with only one entree to worry about, he was able to scoop up forkfuls and watch her play. Dinner and a show.
Owen let his concentration drift, watching her character run cross country. As zoned out as he was, he kept his fork moving, a little bit food drunk, a little bit drunk-drunk. Every bite now was starting to stretch out his stomach. He could feel the weight of the curry and rice as it settled in his gut and slowly expanded, but he kept eating. His shirt was untucking itself from the extra length his swollen middle created, but he kept lifting the food to his mouth. He had to slouch back on the couch to give himself room to grow, but he didn’t stop eating.
He was starting to breathe more shallowly and more quickly as he finished the dish. Letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction, he tried to rotate forward with the thought of putting the plate on the table only to quickly realize that wasn’t something he could do gracefully anymore, so he set it beside him on the couch. He wanted to finish his beer, but that was well out of reach on the table. As if on queue, Gillian picked up his beer and handed it up to him.
How did she know? he thought. “Thanks, Gill,” he said with love in his voice, and tilted his head back to down the rest of the bottle. He held it there for a few moments to get every last drop out before bringing the bottle back down. As he did, Gillian took it from his hand and inserted a fresh one, just opened, the top still smoking from removing the cap. In that moment, Owen wasn’t sure he had ever loved her more, and raised the beer back to his lips and spread his legs at the same time. Clearly, he would need to make more room.
Gillian had been listening to Owen eat as she played–and that boy could eat. She could hear him make his way through the curry, grunting and huffing as he started to really get full. But while Owen might think he was stuffed, she knew the fun part was just getting going.
Gillian set aside the controller and sat up on her knees, sliding her hands up under his now-untucked dress shirt. She was pleased to find his belly still a little soft at the bottom, but jutting out and firm under his ribs. He shuddered as she rubbed his belly and knew this was heaven for him.
Well, she mused to herself, let’s let him enjoy himself.
Owen leaned back, eyes closed, gut protruding. Gillian refilled his plate with the last of the Thai food and, kneeling between his now spread legs, said, “Come on boy, it’s time for you to finish what you’ve started.”
Moaning in both mock and real protest, Owen opened his eyes. He was definitely drunk at this point, both on food and booze, but very hungry to eat for Gillian.
“Fuuuucccckkkkk, that is so damn sexy,” Owen cooed and opened his mouth. He could feel how tight his gut was. The zipper had been pushed all the way down now, and of course Gillian had left his shirt rolled up just under his moobs. His glorious, round, firm belly distending out in front of him was proof of everything he had already consumed tonight. As Gillian fed him, he could feel it getting tighter and tighter with each bite. He was chewing slower now, having to force down the food. Gill gave him breaks to sip his beer while she rubbed his belly, gently at first and more forcefully once she found the right places. It hurt so good, but he knew it was making more room to finish the thai. He moaned with the pleasure of the pain as Gillian pushed her fingers into his swollen stomach and released a burp. It was a moment’s relief. It was everything, at least until Gillian lifted the fork to his mouth again and looked him in the eyes, silently pleading he keep eating.
Owen and Gillian locked eyes. It drove them both crazy. Owen because he felt so watched and cared about under Gillian’s gaze, and Gillian because she could see the struggle each bite took for Owen to swallow, but the confidence he had that it would definitely go down as long as she fed it to him.
By the time the plate was empty, Owen looked glutted. His gut was a dome rising from the bottom of his rib cage and running down to the base of his belly, all firm now. No give even where the soft fat was at the bottom of his belly.
Gillian’s hands ranged free on Owen, exploring, pinching, rubbing, groping. He was hers to play with. She sat back on her heels, pushed Owen’s legs together to a moan of protest, and got up to straddle him on the couch. Unbuttoning her shirt and slipping out of her bra, she leaned in for a kiss. He tasted like her feedee. A combination of booze and spicy pad thai, all the delicious things he had eaten tonight. She could feel his cock, half hard, stiffen with their kiss. His panting continued, now driven both by a lack of space for his lungs to properly expand and just how turned on he was, and Gillian’s desire for him was reaching red hot. She hiked up her skirt and rubbed herself all over Owen’s taught bulk, forcing a burp out his mouth from the pressure.
Owen was being driven wild. He was full as fuck, his feeder was going feral on his glutted body and all he could think was “more.” Making sure to press his belly firmly into Gillian’s groin, he slid himself down the couch. Feeling the hot, wet pressure of her against his swollen stomach was the best kind of pain. Cupping her butt in his hands, he guided pussy to his hungry mouth. If there wasn’t more food to eat, he might as well eat something else. Tasting Gillian, licking her, was the best dessert he could imagine. His gut ached and cock throbbed, but his mouth was fully satisfied.
The feeling of Owen against her lips and clit was setting Gillian up for her first release. She bore down on his face, pressing herself into him and blocking his air. He didn’t care. He was stuffed to bursting with his feeder on top of him and his mouth occupied. For a feedee with an oral fixation, there wasn’t a better way for him to go. Dropping further into himself, drunk, stuffed and now oxygen-deprived, Owen kept his mouth and tongue active on Gillian’s most sensitive parts. His desperation put her over the edge. Shuttering and losing control, Gillian whimpered and rolled back off Owen’s face, letting her body enjoy the wave of warmth running through her.
Gasping for air, Owen whimpered too, as his middle wouldn’t let his lungs fully expand. Groaning and moaning and panting, he was a mess of feelings. Overstimulated in the way only Gillian could make him, turned on but totally helpless, he could do little more than lean back and relinquish himself to gravity. His heart pounding, Owen could feel the blood coursing through his veins, his whole body ticking as his mind bathed in the ocean of sensory input that being stuffed by Gillian always gave him.
Blissed out and turned on, Owen could have laid like that for hours. Gillian wasn’t going to disturb him, at least not more than necessary to pull off his shirt and pants. Only his boxers were left obscuring her view. Gillian took in her partner’s strong shoulders and hairy chest, once clearly muscled but now obscured by a layer of fat, one they had put on him together with nights like this. But what really pulled her in and was something she couldn’t just admire: his belly.
Tightly packed, a stuffed boy looks best standing. But when Gillian was able to get Owen to look as big laying down as he did standing, she knew he was full. Tonight he wasn’t quite as taught as she had seen him before, but it wasn’t a bad effort. Rising from between his ribcage, his stomach, still pushed out by his last serving of Thai, was gently quivering as his heart beat. Below, his fat belly was bloated into a ball gut and looked so wide and packed, his lower gut curving down to his waist band. Gillian drank in her feedee’s prone, glutted body with lustful pleasure. He was hers. And she could feel, feed, and fuck him all night long if she wanted. It wasn’t like Owen would mind, and even if he did, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it anyway. Gillian doubted he could stand up without rolling slowly onto his knees and using the couch and coffee table as leverage. He was trapped by his own greedy animal impulses. She folded herself into his side. Leg over his, head on hand propped up on her elbow, her free hand traced the convex contours of Owen’s incredible figure.
Eyes closed and miles into his body, Owen was starting to gently surface. He was so relaxed and buzzing. His middle ached in the best way and his mind, smooth as glass, was gratified. He felt himself getting harder before he realized Gillian was touching him. Instantly, he was aware of the fire she was tracing on his naked skin. Stretched like it was, her gentle fingers felt like hot knives just grazing his stomach, inexplicable in their pleasure. The flames would continue running even after the knives changed direction, burning out into tingling traces of ghost sensation.
Owen’s cock was hard now. Very hard. He wanted Gillian, but was in no condition to take her. He craned his neck to look up at her eyes, and she leaned down to meet him in a sensual kiss. Her fingers gave up their playful dance and she lay her palm flat on Owen’s huge gut, pressed against his fleshy drum like she couldn’t feel its sensation enough.
Owen’s blood was up. He needed Gillian, he needed some sort of release. Pinned or not, he was still strong, and he used his shoulder and the arm Gillian had laid against to pull her up higher and more on his chest. She gave a squeal of surprise, her lips still pressed firmly to his.
I can reach now, thought Owen, and he extended his arm around and through Gillian’s legs to where he could enter her. Facing away from her g spot as his fingers were, he could have immediately brought her to another climax, but by keeping a rhythm and being in hot, wet, proximity he knew he could drive her crazy.
As crazed with desire as Gillian’s brain was, she knew what Owen was playing at. Two could play that tune, and tonight was a good night for edging. She might cum a half dozen times but she was going to keep her boy hot and bothered for quite a while longer. She started with a taste of what he wanted.
Running her hungry hand down Owen’s distended, tight gut, she toyed slowly with the sensitive underside of his belly and finally, under the waistband of his boxers, grasping his shockingly hard cock. Each with a hand on and inside the other, they pulled and caressed each other, aroused by indulgence and excess, turned on in the most decadent manner.
The ringing seemed to come from over the mountains and across the sea. Gillian and Owen were so deep into their combined pleasure that they were hardly present. Gillian’s phone was the signal that finally brought them back to the living room.
“Shit, I forgot,” she exclaimed, eyes wide, hair a mess as she jumped to her feet and ran from the room.
Perplexed, Owen panted, trying to catch his breath, but his overfilled middle didn’t give his lungs much room to expand with every “deep” breath. Head back, eyes closed, he let his endorphins wash over him.
It was the local dash app messaging. The pizza! The delivery driver must have rung the door bell multiple times before messaging Gillian directly. How could she have forgotten what was clearly going to be quite the large cherry on top of Owen’s already indulgent evening?! He is already so full, getting this pizza in him is going to be excruciatingly painful in the most wonderful way, she mused as she tipped the driver for his outstanding service.
Amused by her secret order, she slipped with it into the bedroom. It was time to bring Owen to somewhere he could immediately fall asleep once she’d had her way with him. At minimum, a short food coma would be an absolute necessity for her greedy feedee. One of his best traits was his complete lack of control when one of his favorite foods was around.
Spreading out a towel in the foot of the bed and putting the pizza box on it, she slipped into a red teddy, one Owen loved so much, that just hardly contained her boobs and hung loosely around her, revealing only glimpses of her figure. Now with only a thong on under her lingerie, she slank back to the couch to rouse her already glutted toy.
Walking into Owen in such an overfed state, blissed out on the couch, unaware of the world outside himself, was a pleasure that made Gillian moan. As she leaned in and kissed his ear, she whispered, “I’ve got a surprise for you in the bedroom. Let me help you up and you can come see what it is.”
Opening his eyes, Owen looked up at Gillian in her teddy and smiled a half smirk of anticipation. He lifted his arms up to be helped off the couch. Bracing a foot on the side of the couch between Owen’s legs, Gillian leaned back, pulling to help him stand. His eyes twinkled as he let Gillian pull and pull, trying her hardest to raise the man who already weighed more than twice her weight even when he didn’t have 10 pounds of food and drink crammed in his distended gut. He slowly started to help, engaging what core muscles he could around his protruding middle and leaned forward as much as his stomach would allow.
Grunting, straining, and giggling a little, Gillian managed to get Owen upright, vertical-ish as he leaned back to try and find some balance and give what little comfort he could to his straining skin. She was nearly ready to push him back down again, forgetting about his surprise in the bedroom, but Owen was more awake now.
“Do you smell that, is that pizza I’m smelling? God damn, who is the evil person who is piping that into our house, it smells amazing.”
It was unclear if it was just digestion or if Owen’s belly was of the same insatiable persuasion as its owner, but Gillian swore it sounded like his stomach gurgled with hunger at the scent.
“Well, big boy, you know when you said you were having a hard time deciding? I took the opportunity to decide for you. Follow me.” She took his hand and led the swollen man slowly so he could waddle from side to side with each step to their room.
There on the bed, like a feedist’s version of rose petals, was a large pizza box with the top thrown open. Charred crust, red sauce, cheese and toppings made Owen’s mouth water and eyes widen. Gillian led him to the bed where he gently lowered his bulk onto the mattress, both he and the frame sighing softly as he did so. And there was Gillian, slice in hand, so near Owen he couldn’t understand the physics of how she held herself up without pressing on his oversized gut. Her eyes locked on his, bringing the pizza to his waiting mouth.
Obediently he opened his hungry mouth, eyes still on Gillian. As if he hadn’t already eaten enough for a small dinner party, Owen moaned in deep appreciation for the leoparded crust, slightly spicy sauce, fat melted mozzarella, cupping pepperoni, mushrooms and onion. Lost in the taste, he closed his eyes, groaning in appreciation for his favorite food, then in quick succession for the stretch that one bite gave his already stretched stomach. Not a couple to be satisfied with just a bite, Gillian hand fed Owen the rest of the slice. She felt her thong drenched in wetness from how much she wanted him. Hot and needy, she so desired to end it right there and pounce upon her boy, but she resisted.
When he finished, Gillian cooed her praise to Owen and gently dripped her fingertips over the taught flesh of his middle, making him squirm as he fought for breath.
“You are doing so well, you’ve eaten so much, look at how big it’s made you, nearly big enough but not quite yet,” she teased, pouting her lips and looking up in a darling pantomime of worried reflection. “You need something though, I can tell.” Owen wrinkled his brow in knowing concern because whenever he “needed” something it was always more food and drink and he was already stretched to within an hair of his capacity.
To his surprise she straddled him, and he thought he might have needed to be fucked this time, but Gillian was merely in transit to the other side of the bed and into her nightstand. As she reached into its drawer, Owen got to look at his beautiful partner, teddy hanging down transparent allowing a filtered view of her waiting skin, boobs a deep breath away from lifting out of the cups, ass in the air, so pert, and thighs just begging to be kissed. Gillian wasn’t the only one turned on.
Rolling onto her back, head on the pillow next to Owen, she snuggled into the bulk of her gluttonous boy. Owen’s eyes widened at what Gillian had in her hands: a pre-rolled joint and a book of matches. Gillian knew perfectly well what she was setting Owen up for. She was going to snowball her feedee until he was so deep that he lost his last brain cell and was entirely her living, breathing (if in shallow gasps) and, most importantly, eating sex toy.
“Found it, this is what you need, sweetheart,” she said in a chipper voice, as if she had found a lost sock and not another layer of sensation for her man who was nearly buzzing from overstimulating already. Owen didn’t smoke often, and his tolerance was pathetically low. Still, he did love how weed somehow disassociated his body from his floating brain when he was stuffed and so he squirmed and bucked his pelvis a little into Gillian, who could feel his hard cock against her thigh.
He is such a glutton! Gillian thought, as Owen rubbed his manhood against her leg, belly rolling onto her and covering more than half her torso in doing so. Much further than it did when Owen was empty in the mornings, she noted with a surge of pleasure. Even with his stomach as tight as a drum, his body is begging I drug it and feed him more, it’s like he was born for being a feeder’s favorite, she marveled.
At the same time, Owen was absorbed in his own appreciation of Gillian. How does she always surprise me like this? God knows getting stoned sounds so luxurious right now, I’m so full and weed would dull that ache and let me enjoy that pizza so much more.
A delicious synchronicity: both partners had taken for granted that Owen would be finishing the pizza despite the fact that he clearly didn’t need another bite.
Gently placing the pre-roll between Owen’s lips, Gillian pushed open the match box–with the satisfying grinding of cardboard and sound of sliding of identical length objects all bumping the box at the same time–and extracted a dark wooden match with a white head. She struck the match, and cupping the flame, brought it to Owen’s joint.
“Take deep breaths my love, I want you to enjoy this strain to its fullest. The budtender promised it was the best they had ever seen for appetite stimulation,” Gillian instructed.
Owen followed her directions and inhaled deeply, the intoxicating smoke filling his lungs and burning his unpracticed throat. Removing the joint from his mouth, Gillian added:
“Now hold it in.” Owen did as he was told, allowing the maximum time for the THC to enter his bloodstream. “And let it out,” she finished. Owen exhaled a large cloud of white smoke sputtering as he stifled a couch. Goodness, does that boy do anything that isn’t large, wondered Gillian.
Taking as deep a breath as his strained diaphragm would allow, Owen could feel the weed already starting to do its thing, like the softest cashmere blanket lowering down over his senses. Then, without him noticing, somehow the joint was back in his mouth and Gillian was again instructing him to take in as much of the smoke as he could. Starting to wobble and lose himself from the food and the drink and now the weed, Owen just focused on following Gillian’s voice. After what Owen thought was the second round of puffs, he opened his lips to receive the pre-roll, only to hear Gillian giggle.
“Baby, you finished that joint, it’s all gone. There’s nothing left to smoke.” Gillian smiled down at his half closed eyes “You are high now, but in five minutes you are going to be soaring.”
Owen turned his head to look at Gillian better. She was just as beautiful as ever but he was having trouble focusing on her face. His eyes kept dropping to her tits, still just contained. Eventually he just gave up and stared at her chest.
“Oh, you like those? Wanna see them better?” Gillian was playing with Owen now but he couldn’t tell, he just nodded. Obligingly, Gillian stripped off her teddy and Owen was again transfixed by her.
She reached over and picked up a slice of the pizza, folding it expertly as she brought it to Owen’s mouth, which opened and accepted a large bite like it was his first of the day.
Look at him, he is massive, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him go this far. I wonder just how much farther we can go tonight? thought Gillian as she fed Owen bite after big bite until the second slice and a quarter of the pizza was gone. Owen was looking quite round, his stomach protruding against any skin that had the slightest give. Gillian finally gave herself permission to rub that swollen orb of a belly while feeding Owen the third slice. Her hand looked so small against his distended belly. His skin almost looked shiny from how stretched it was and yet he was putting away the pizza without pause, moaning as he did, she couldn’t tell from pain or pleasure but assumed some combination of both. The last two slices she handed to Owen as if they were one, and pulled down his boxers to his ankles.
Sure enough, he was hard and precum was dripping from the head of his member. Moving between his spread legs, Gillian went down on Owen, mouth around his cock and hands grasping his firm gut. She was wildly turned on by just how wide it was now. Wide and firm. She knew Owen was fat, but she couldn’t feel it now. His usual soft middle was so full it felt like she was grasping a large medicine ball rather than her boy’s belly. Looking up, she couldn’t even see Owen’s face. It was completely obstructed by his gut. She got even wetter with the realization.
Owen grunted and huffed, so overstimulated and cloudy from the booze, food and weed he was just pure sensation, and Gillian sucking on his cock felt like every nerve in his body was touching a live wire. Knowing she was taking him closer to the edge every moment, Gillian ran her mouth over his cock one more time, grinding her teeth along its shaft as she came up. Owen cried out a whimper. Her mouth free, Gillian was finally ready for her release. She felt like her pussy was on fire, aching for Owen. He was so full and so tight and absolutely blissed out and hard for her, and she needed to feel him everywhere.
Owen’s legs still spread, gut proudly rising up, Gillian straddled him all. Her knees were pushed wider than she could remember having to stretch to mount Owen because his indulgences were so extreme that his whole middle was expanded. As she slid down into him, the electricity of Owen’s live wires ran into her. Now she was being filled and her deepest desire was coming to fruition, making her light-headed, but her clit rubbing on the underside of Owen’s immense belly was what shocked her the most. They always talked about how it would feel if Owen was stuffed enough to push his gut into her when she rode him, but before tonight she could only make it happen if she leaned forward and played into it, or if Owen was sufficiently propped up pushing his gut down into her. But tonight Owen was flat on his back, head halfway off the pillow, and yet, as she slid down his cock, his lower belly actually brushed her lips and teased her clit.
Gillian leaned into it and started bucking up and down, riding the flow of her body. Legs spread wide by her gorgeous feedee, pussy filled and clit stimulated while watching what she had done to this man who panted and whined for her while always wanting more, filled her with lust. They were perfect together, and their connection made their sex even better. Gillian knew this was what her body needed for its fullest release and Owen was beyond his dreams of excess at Gillian’s hands. As Gillian thrust herself onto Owen, his cock filled her and her groin hit the “wall” of his overfilled gut, soft but with little give, and warm against her skin. Over and over they came together, Gillian getting closer and closer to orgasm and Owen starting to shout out in ecstasy from all the impulses of the nerves of his body seemingly firing at once. And together they came, in a wave too deep to ride over, totally consumed by the moment and the feeling they both released.
Owen always came hardest when stuffed, but he felt like he was turning inside out as he burst inside Gillian. Her orgasm rushed through her whole body, the evening’s pent up sex exploding in a flash of color and sensations. Her muscles clenched and released and clenched again as glorious climax settled, only to rip through her again. Broken from the effort of the evening, Owen was now patron to Gillian’s continuing bliss. Thirty seconds felt like four days. Finally, Gillian’s spasming slowed, her body releasing her from its convulsions.
Carefully she leaned forward and slid down the side of Owen’s immense belly, shuttering again as she felt him against her skin. They kissed as Owen’s brain unwired, his eyes closed, breath still short but slowing. Gillian looked at her work, proud and satisfied. She also knew he was so full, she could definitely ride him a few more times tonight and get plenty of pleasure from him and his over-stuffed gut. And so she let him drift off while she explored his body, noticing what might be a fresh stretch mark, and how cute he looked just hardly able to breathe from his indulgence. Her hand slipped between her legs as she looked and touched. She had all night to get her fill.