“You miss it, don’t you,” he murmured with a crooked smile, shamelessly massaging his belly.
Her friends had all left the kitchen, leaving her alone with him. She turned away, trying to ignore him as she plopped a lime into her vodka tonic.
He leaned down closer to her in a whisper, “I can see it every time you glance down along my bod,” his hand now grabbed and lifted his gut up just to remind her how damn heavy he was.
She rolled her eyes to avoid validating his assumption that she would want to take another a long look at his rotund profile. His subtle, spicy cologne scent wafted past her nose. Dang it. Once again he was testing her resolve. Jerk.
“You know, you kind of look like one of those vampires who hasn’t fed in a while,” he leaned back against the counter, reminding her of a joke they had once shared about those stupid Twilight movies. “You’re eyes are looking pretty black these days.”
“Shut up Ty,” she pretended not to care, straining to keep a smile from slipping into her annoyed smirk.
“God Mags,” unfazed, he stretched his arms above his head purposefully so that a sliver of his pink quivering flesh would hang out from the bottom of his button down shirt. “You really packed the pounds on me.”
She averted her eyes again and gritted her teeth to fight the ticklishness forming between her legs.
“And I just keep putting on more,” he slapped his belly.
“It’s not working,” she turned completely away from him again. Mind over matter, Maggie. He hasn’t gained a pound since you last hooked up with him a few months ago. He’s just trying to get into your head.
“Skinny Dude won’t cut it for you, Mags,” he reminded her, as his tone shifted to something that sounded more like a parental lecture than a come on.
“At least he doesn’t cheat on me,” was her standard, bitter response to his ongoing sexual propositions.
“We had an understanding,” he defended himself in his typically manipulative style.
“No, you had an understanding,” she retorted. There was no understanding at all that she would share his fat ass with anyone else. Maybe they hadn’t talked about any commitments specifically; and maybe she hadn’t made it clear that she wanted exclusivity, but did he have to try to screw every damn FFA he encountered? Did he have to actively seek out every single one of them wherever he went?
“Come on, you know it wasn’t like that,” he tried to resume the dysfunctionality of their relationship all over again.
It was like that. Tyler had a sixth sense. He had mastered the art of zeroing in on that singular woman who wanted her sex a little heavier; or in his case, a lot heavier. In a large enough gathering, there was almost always at least one girl he caught giving him a lustful once-over. He had a remarkably perceptive talent in divining out even the most clandestinely fat-admiring eyes.
It helped his odds that he was more than willing to get rejected. He had admitted to Maggie that he didn’t care whether some girls conveyed unease or even disgust over his body. Often enough, it would actually turn him on. He enjoyed being called fat names too: pig, whale, blimp... especially when it came from the mouths of pretty girls. He was way deep into the fetish.
Maggie was just another one of those girls he’d zeroed in on, and she knew his modus operandi all too well. She couldn’t even insult him now because he’d love it too much; and most inconveniently, so would she.
“Mags, we had something,” he protested. He was clearly just horny.
“Something like all the food I shoved down your throat,” she snarled her lip.
“Now you’re talking,” he purred.
“Now I’m leaving,” she walked out of the kitchen cove to rejoin her current boyfriend.
Maggie had been more than satisfied with simply enjoying his fat body, but Tyler wanted to be fed, sometimes stuffed. She sure knew how to feed him though. He told her early on that she had feeder instincts. His blubbery frame was her ultimate sexual playground, always beckoning her to give into his fetish while he cultivated hers. He was just too easy, the big glutton.
She hated Ty for so many reasons, but one of them was that he was right. She missed fat sex. It was a relentless pang of hunger she couldn’t shake. Dustin was nice. He was kind, and relentlessly good to her. And that was really great; refreshing, in fact. But his firm, fitness-obsessed body was boring her to tears.
In moments like these, she hated herself for all of the same reasons she hated Ty. It wasn’t like she didn’t think about cheating constantly, so how was she different? Was she really any better than he was? Always wanting something more than she was currently allowed to have?
Maggie should have known when she first met Ty that he was trouble. He walked into that crowded party looking so big that she was pretty sure she saw his belly come in through the door before the rest of him came through it. Immediately she felt a cautionary tingle, like the hair on one’s body standing up before lightning strikes. His confidence was practically delusional, but he made it work. She hated him for that too.
He evaluated the room, as she evaluated his large form. He sported an audacious spread of obesity that she found immediately fascinating. Clinically quite morbid, perhaps; but to her that was an aphrodisiac. Soft, wide, flabby, rolls, sway... distributed generously across a tall enough frame to really spread the fat out... all buttons pushed. And damn if he didn’t have a lovely round face with big auburn eyes, summer tanned skin and thick, wiry, russet brown hair. Yep, so much to hate about him, but a few hundred more reasons to fuck him.
Tyler caught her eyes scaling his bulk and strolled up to her, while subtlety caressing his frontage to highlight its magnitude under his tent-like button down shirt. He recognized right away what she was into.
“Hey, I’m Tyler. You’re?”
“Maggie,” she choked out. Her mouth was so dry. Thirsty.
“You need a fresh drink?” He had smiled confidently, pointing down at her mostly empty cocktail.
“Um, yeah, sure” she stammered. Good God, that swagger. Was he for real?
He moved her through the crowd like he was parting the Red Sea, lightly touching her back to guide her. She remembered how he placed his hand on her waist, overtly feeling the tightness of her figure, while she relished the sensation of his immense belly brushing along her side. She had desperately hoped to turn him on with her slenderness compared to his enormous size.
Maggie loved contrast. So much so that she had almost considered quitting her own exercise and nutrition regimen so that somebody in her current relationship would have some semblance of softness when their bodies touched. But Dustin liked to run with her, bike with her, and work out with her at the gym. She tried to get him to relax, live a little and eat a little more too, but not one pound stuck on that guy.
Ty was better behaved that way; more interested in reading, writing, researching, playing his guitar, gaming from time to time, and of course snacking. She was free to do her career and fitness thing while he made himself very comfortable in his life as a perpetual grad student. It seemed like a perfect fit... until she found out that hitting on other girls was another one of his hobbies.
It hadn’t taken long for him to get his hooks into her. She knew him for all of a few hours before she found herself underneath him, with his massive weight ramming into her body while her fingers grasped themselves around his side rolls in sheer ecstasy. At first she couldn’t believe her ears when he beckoned her into his particular predilection for fat talk, whispering to her in between labored thrusts, “Have you ever been with someone as big as I am?”
No, she shook her head, she’d never been with a boy that big; and never that quickly after meeting one. She’d wanted to experience a super-sized guy for so long... but boys that heavy had never made themselves so easily available to her before. There were some tubby boyfriends and hefty hookups along the way, but never a completely rotund lover; not until Tyler.
When Dustin found out she had dated Ty, through a friend of a friend of a friend, he confronted her about it. “You seriously dated him?” Dustin was incredulous.
“Didn’t last long,” she downplayed it. How was she supposed to explain her sexual interest in obese dudes to a guy with such a depressingly scarce amount of body fat?
“Didn’t his weight bother you?” He gave off more skepticism mixed with disgust.
“Nope, didn’t come up much,” she lied like she’d never lied before. Could he really believe that? Regardless, Dustin did not need to know it was the central theme through the entire four months that they were together.
Tyler’s fat was the eye of their relationship hurricane. All sex, food, hedonism and bodily pleasure, all the time. Okay, maybe they shared some laughs, a little deep conversation, and they even took a few romantic walks in the park near his place, hand in hand, while she reveled in his waddle and wobble. Maggie had tried hard to push those affectionate moments out of her mind though. It was just sex; that’s all it amounted to. Just. Sex. Big, fat, sex.
“It wasn’t serious or anything,” she hoped to protect Dustin’s feelings, as she was fairly certain he’d begin to notice soon, if not already, that she had a wandering eye for fatties, male or female. He’d quickly put two and two together if she even remotely implied that she was okay with his weight, much less enamored with it.
And, she could never, ever tell Dustin about donut mornings; those exquisite donut mornings... It was a routine they fell into when she’d stay at Ty’s place. She’d run out early and buy a dozen donuts; the soft, warm, glazed ones from his favorite bakery. They were so easy for him to eat. He could down one in just a few bites. He’d sit at the table strategically with his robe open, spreading his plump thighs out so his belly would rest down between them and onto the chair.
Maggie would take the seat next to him at the table with her coffee and mobile. At first she pretended to read the morning news while peripherally watching his obvious performance.
“Have you had enough yet?” She’d act appalled after he’d devoured several.
“Not even close,” he’d narrow his eyes at her and continue eating, undeterred.
Then she’d cozy up to him, trying to find a spot on what little lap he had left, slipping herself between his body and the box of sweet indulgences. She’d rub herself up against his substantial frontage, play with his belly button, or lift his hanging gut to tease him. “But it’s all so fattening...”
She’d slip her hand under his belly and feel how hard he was getting. But his mouth was still full. Smacking his lips he’d act annoyed, “You’re interrupting my donut time,” as he gobbled another one up.
If she asked him to share one with her, he’d greedily respond, “They’re all for me.” And if she tried to sneak one for herself, he’d take it from her and shove it into his own mouth with an intimidating glare, knowing his dominant gluttony turned her on all the more.
Then it would really get intense. While still plowing through his deep fried sugary indulgences, he’d go on the offensive. Heaving his big body up, he’d move behind her, grab her ass, or her breasts, and growl in her ear, “Hold still.”
Magic words, those were. Of course she would hold still and do exactly as he asked, because she knew what was in store next. Relishing his broad flab touching her back, he’d order her, “Turn around.”
He gave her no room to move. His body took up all of her space and brushed along her middle. With a dramatic lick of donut glaze off his lips, he’d continue his firm directions, tugging at her panties, “Take them off.” She’d peel them off carefully; bending down with her legs straight to show off her yoga-trained flexibility. Then she’d stand up before him, fully nude, her hands covering her breasts; coy, but not quite hiding a vague smirk behind her eyes either.
“Spread your legs,” he’d continue to command her and she’d readily follow those orders too; sometimes she couldn’t even wait to widen her stance for him.
Exaggeratedly licking the sticky donut glaze off his chubby fingers, he’d then trail them down her cleavage, along her abdomen, graze them along the sensitive skin between her thighs; and slide them into her with a penetrating caress, just the way he knew she liked. “You don’t need any of my donuts, you just need this...”
Oh God, those glaze-covered fat fingers of his!
Thoughts of those decadent interludes could still make her wet, any time, any place. Ty knew exactly what he could do to her, whether he was playing the domineering gourmand to her innocent nymph, or the nervous feedee to her demanding mistress. Eat more, fatty! He quickly became a pro at getting Maggie to do anything he wanted, and play any role he desired, because he always succeeded in making her come.
She couldn’t say the same for Dustin, the way he fumbled around, trying to make her hot by flexing his muscles, pressing his pointy body into her, all while failing miserably.
“I don’t think I could date someone that big,” Dustin had self-assessed the curiosity of her ex-lover.
Your loss, Dustin.
His disappointingly anti-fat words reminded Maggie of that beautiful big girl who worked at her favorite Starbucks; the one she had been enjoying the view of for several months now. Dana, her nametag read. She had entertained the notion that she might actually be able get into it with Dustin if someone like Dana could join in the fun.
Dana had to be well over 300 pounds of crimson-haired goddess, making Maggie think twice about her pesky heterosexuality. Her doll-like face was so flawlessly made up that Maggie one time flirtatiously asked her if she’d come to her place every morning to do her makeup. But it was the way that green apron wrapped snugly across her plush body, and her leggings strained to contain her growing tummy that had Maggie timing her macchiatos around the pretty barista’s early morning schedule.
Maggie sometimes wished that she were a boy who could go after fat girls... to nurture and satisfy their sweet, soft, curvy prettiness with lots of chocolates and extra-extra-large, lacy lingerie. These were mostly peripheral fantasies, yet sometimes she mulled whether giving into her bisexual urges with a beautiful butterball of a girl would be more fulfilling than dealing with assholes like Tyler. Exploring a big girl’s fatness could be so interesting and lovely; but at her core, Maggie liked dick far too much. No way around that reality.
It was almost like clockwork, when she was left most hurt and vulnerable by Ty’s infidelities, and pretty much sick of guys altogether, Dustin charmed himself into her life. Nice guy, easy to talk to, handsome enough, won’t hurt me. That was actually a rejuvenating feeling. She was ready for someone sensible and uncomplicated; and he was exactly that.
She put him off of sex for a while though, using every ‘good girl’ excuse in the book, but mostly she was afraid of what it would be like. It turned out there was nothing to be afraid of except total boredom. Hard, flat, firm, blah, nothing. It wasn’t ever going to work in bed. But she liked him the other 23 hours and 45 minutes of the day and that’s what mattered. Right?
She had started to look for chubby boys again on Tinder just last week, heading back down the fast track to the immoral part of her brain. It just so happened that her fat-loving section of gray matter was unrelenting in its mission to keep a direct hotline of communication down to between her legs.
Swipe left, swipe left, swipe left... oh wait... finally, there you are... Swipe right. They exchanged texts and flirted more. Colin, was his name. Cute name for a cute guy.
The texting and flirting went on for a few days. This made things more complicated. He’s clearly adorbs, clever and sort of droll... yes, interesting... but still in college? Oh jeez, he could be a real innocent. He looked good and fat though. Hard to say exactly how fat, but promising, for sure.
What to do? Well, she wasn’t about to go back to that duplicitous fuckboy who made her feel incredible as long as they were in bed together, but mostly like shit the rest of the time. But could she really stay with a nice guy who made her body feel all the passion of a convent? And now there was this Tinder Cutie wild card, which would probably end with her breaking a chubby kid’s naïve little heart. He was too young...
Curiosity was killing her though. She had to explore this chubby young kid’s heart first before being certain she’d break it. Or just vanquish his sexy bod before any heart business got involved. They would have to meet if she was going to find out. Why not give him a chance?
Coffee shop near his campus, he’d suggested. Perfect. She’d take a long lunch break across town.
“Your accent,” she was instantly charmed.
“Yeah,” his sweet face had almost a permanent shade of nervous blush on his rounded cheeks, “I didn’t tell you I’m a foreigner yet, did I?”
He was a clearly a Brit, but she keyed in on his dialect. He was from somewhere up North, for sure. “Which part are you from?”
“Preston, in the Northwest,” he confirmed it.
“Lovely,” she flirted with her most admiring smile.
“Some parts,” he shrugged. He covered his body with folded hands. Those plump hands weren’t big enough to cover up too much though.
“I studied a semester at Leeds my junior year,” she informed him.
“Yeah?” He seemed surprised.
“Loved it,” she grinned. “So what brings you over here then?” She nudged him for more.
“Why this one?”
“They don’t do computer science in the UK?” She was going to get to the bottom of his American motivations.
He just smiled and shrugged again, “They have a good program in HCI, um, you know, human computer interaction?”
Interesting. “So why the States?” she clarified her question.
“Not a bad place for tech opportunities,” He seemed to be convincing himself.
“I was thinking maybe you were looking for a fresh dating pool,” She raised her eyebrows and teased him by forcing the issue, exploiting his apparent shyness. More than an education, yes? Girls... American girls who were suckers for an accent? And perhaps because we’re already used to fat guys?
He shifted his weight and his chair squeaked. “Maybe it is easier for a chubby bloke to blend in with your lot anyhow.”
There it was. She felt a shameless amount of giddy making its way across her face. Yes, you are a chubby bloke, aren’t you? Let’s dig into that, shall we? “Do you really want to blend in?”
”Yeah, nice to not be the fattest guy everywhere I go,” he smirked through his bluntness.
Full stop. He wasn’t that damn fat that he’d be the fattest everywhere he went. A bit sensitive. Now she was quite certain he’d be the type to squirm the first time she grabbed his belly. Duly noted.
“I spent a few months exploring Lancashire and I did see plenty of fat people there,” she argued, then felt slightly unhinged in saying the word ‘fat’ out loud to him.
“Not like here,” he chuckled. “Or just more expected here.”
“Fair enough,” she acquiesced with a smile. And hadn’t that been a blessing? There was a promising population of overweight young men she’d observed walking around the city. But it also had been frustrating her lately considering her current boyfriend’s state of being. Dang it, she didn’t want to be reminded of Dustin while she was charming her way into Colin’s more generously sized pants.
So Colin wasn’t the fattest guy, but he was somewhat fatter than his photo conveyed, just as she had hoped. That was usually the case on Tinder, of course. She mentally undressed him. Those little side rolls, and cheerful moobs... he could be pushing 300, if not a stone over... it would be delicious to know the exact number.
He asked about her work. She explained her frequent travel as an event manager for a boutique cosmetics company. It must have sounded more glamourous than it was because he looked impressed. Given her career experience and his college student status, he had been clearly doing the math, but he finally mustered the courage to ask.
“Exactly how old are you then?”
“27,” she grinned, softening the blow by not admitting that 28 was right around the corner. “You were browsing the olds, weren’t you?”
He shrugged sheepishly with a blushing half-smile.
She saw it all over his face: guilt, attraction, unease... she pictured him caught with his hand in her cookie jar. Taking pity, she reassured him, “I’m flexible about age myself.”
“You really meant to swipe right?” his face shifted to tragically doubtful.
“Of course I did,” she promised him with a little impatience in her voice. He was going to be nothing like Tyler. He was going to require so much more work. One careful shirt button at a time; one gentle belly caress while distracted by several sweet kisses; then maybe get a good grab, a teasing pinch and that cautiously coerced big handful of softness... Colin’s shy inhibition was nearly as sexy as Ty’s raging ego. But Colin was fresh clay for her to mold. So much clay.
“You’re really fit,” he blurted with admiring eyes. Those chubby pink cheeks were now making her melt.
“Aw thanks. I think you’re pretty cute too,” she flattered him back. She couldn’t push it yet by admitting she thought he was super sexy and totally fuckable. That’d sound disingenuous this early in the game. That kind of talk needed to wait until she had her hands on him to bowl him over with flattery. But those kissable lips and that lush body made her want to see the rest of him in detail so badly that she was ready to do all the developmental work she needed to do to his ego in order to get him inside of her.
As she gazed into his eyes, his phone buzzed an alert interrupting the moment. “Bollocks, I have to get to class.”
“Are you going to call me?” She pushed him.
“Only if you want me to,” he smiled nervously.
“Yeah, I want you to,” she demanded playfully. “Or maybe I’ll call you.”
Of course she’d probably have to call him first. And soon. He needed a push along, this one. She weighed the strategies in her head. Would she just overwhelm him into submission? Or slowly chip away at his resistance to submission? That remained to be seen.
“Right, cheers,” he tried to be cool, heaving his backpack over his shoulder. Great tummy tremor, Colin. From a seated position she had witnessed a charming belly resting still in his lap, but not its movement, softness and that enticing bit of overhang until now. Double yummy.
She’d have break up with Dustin, like yesterday. He’d be fine. She knew enough other girls would go for him. But really, come on; it was just plain dumb for a devoted chub lover like herself to be wasted on a conventionally uninteresting body like Dustin’s.
A day and a half passed with impatience, so Maggie went ahead and called Colin while walking back to her apartment after work. She was generally driven to get what she wanted.
“What are you doing tonight?” was her opening line.
“Hey... uh nothing. Um, well... studying,” he sounded caught off guard.
“You have to eat dinner, right?” Like you can resist a meal, Tubby.
Maggie was so turned on thinking uncivil things, the bitch that she was. No amount of guilt had ever stopped that teasing voice from ruling her head; it had been making her thoughts wicked since puberty.
It’s not like she threw words like that around out loud. Until pretty recently, she had carefully kept that voice deep inside, stifled to an inner brain whisper. That was until Tyler unleashed it and gave it a megaphone. He had been deviously effective in bringing her out of her self-censoring shell.
Just a couple of weeks into knowing him, he lured her into his way of talking about their mutually weighty interests when took her out to a popular Italian restaurant near his place. As the waitress handed Maggie a menu, Ty took it from her hand. “I know what’s good here, I’ll order for you.”
At first she was thinking he was trying to make a romantic gesture, until the waitress came back with drinks, and Maggie heard what he really had in mind for their meals. “She’ll have the chopped salad. I’ll have the seafood cannelloni... gnocchi carbonara... and bring me the fried eggplant too.”
With her eyes wide, the waitress looked at him in disbelief.
“She’s watching her weight,” he explained to the stunned woman, followed by a knowing wink. He then dipped a thick slice of bread into some balsamic and olive oil, and shoveled it into his mouth.
Maggie was as astonished as the waitress was, but his lopsided order had also added a layer of anger to her shock. She had eaten light that day, looking forward to a nice meal. Of course she’d wanted Ty to indulge, and yes, she had already admitted to him that she was careful about her own diet, but it didn’t mean she was an anorexic or something.
“Sexist pig,” Maggie uttered at him.
“Pig... hmmm... you think?” Unmistakable satisfaction washed over his face. As those words had crossed her lips and into his ears, she’d begun to witness the extent of his fetish.
Her anger evaporated as she realized that his intents were not really to restrict her caloric intake, but rather to draw out her own feeder inclinations. Calling him a pig only served as a catalyst to make him devour more. She saw exactly what he was trying to do, and her contempt dissolved into a rush of intense horniness.
As his plates of food were delivered, she took a step further with the fat repartee that he’d invited her into. “You really are a greedy hog, aren’t you?” Those were words she’d sometimes fantasized about saying, but never in a million years would she have said to anyone unprompted.
He just grinned and licked his lips, enthralled by her sexy insults, reveling in how willing she was to join his game.
“I sit here hungry with nothing but a salad while you waddle yourself up to the trough to gobble up every last morsel of food in this restaurant?” she whispered in a hiss to him. Her cruel-sounding taunts now had him completely wrapped around her finger. Needless to say, the sex that night was transforming; and for a while, it was addictive.
But Maggie had to go back to being careful again and flip that switch very, very off. She had to keep those inner brain whispers at bay. She couldn’t slip up with Colin, imagining the hurt in his eyes if she were to call him a pig or a hog. No way would that game work on this sweet and unassuming kid. This was going to be a fresh start with a plump cutie who was nothing like that diabolically insatiable feedee she had left behind.
“So, what do you think?” Maggie got her head back into the present, pressing Colin for a less perverted kind of dining experience.
She didn’t let him even finish answering. “I’m craving Indian food and that’s no fun to eat alone; it’s so much better shared. You like Indian?”
“Uh sure, I like curries.”
Of course you do...
“You know Dharani?” She’d thought of a place that wouldn’t remind her of Ty, as they’d never been to there together. An avoidance strategy might help keep her thoughts focused on nurturing something new with Colin while forgetting all about Tyler.
“Meet you there at 7, my treat,” she all but ordered him.
This time she arrived a few minutes early so she could watch him walk up the sidewalk. The way that surplus weight could alter a person’s gate mesmerized her. She couldn’t deny that chub, naturally undulating in response to one’s steps, had an arousing effect on her libido.
She gave him a big hug, and in return got a thrilling preview of his overall softness. Now to get some food in that boy and then sweet talk him into working some of it off.
It was good food, good conversation, and great watching his appetite reveal itself a bit. Bet he could’ve eaten more though; doesn’t look like he’s usually a leftovers kind of guy.
“I don’t live too far from here if you want to come over for a beer,” she offered.
“Um, well, I...”
“It’s Friday. It’s not like you have an exam tomorrow or something, right?”
“Yeah, true,” his voice was cautious.
“If you’re not interested in me, it’s okay. I’m a grown up, I can handle it,” she had to give him an out if he really didn’t like her.
“No,” he smiled with his cheeks flaring up again, “You’re great.”
“It’s just a beer, Colin,” she reached across and gently touched his hand in reassurance.
“Yeah, cheers, alright.”
She brought him that beer and sat sideways on the sofa facing him to talk. “I’d like to kiss you,” she confessed, stroking his forearm. She had to start somewhere with him.
“Really?” evidently he hadn’t expected that right away.
“Yes, really,” she raised herself up to meet his lips.
He kissed back. It wasn’t one-sided. His hands landed on her waist and the look in his eyes between kisses made his attraction to her very loud and clear.
She set her beer down, took the bottle from his hand to set his down too, and climbed on his lap to face him. More kisses. The feeling of his marvelous body pressed against hers, oh my. She missed the way a plush belly felt smooshed up against her. Holy balls had she ever missed that feeling.
She wanted to paw that belly and investigate every detail of the rest of him too, but she knew the order of things with the self-conscious type. Tenderize him with some honest, comforting words before going at him with grabbing hands.
“I’d like for you to know something about me, but I don’t want it to freak you out,” she began.
“What, you’re an escaped convict? Serial killer?” he joked.
“Just promise you won’t freak out.”
“I can’t promise that if I don’t know what it is,” his face faded into concern.
“Fair enough,” she smiled to ease him.
“I’ll try not to freak out,” he relented. He wanted to just keep kissing her; she could tell that he was starving for it. ‘Shut up and let’s make out’ was all over his body language. But her preliminary touching of fatter parts and his instinctive retreating response told her that he needed some straight talk too if this was going to go anywhere.
“I think you’re really great, and cute, and I love your sense of humor,” she started.
“But my weight, right?” He looked pained.
“No... Your weight is fine,” she started.
“Actually it’s better than fine. This is what I’m trying to tell you; I love your body just the way it is,” she lightly circled her fingers around his cushiony gut. He flinched again giving her hands an extra treat. Oh my God, that was perfection. Fat shyness captured in a jiggling shudder? She felt her panties get damp in that moment.
“I want you to be okay with what I like,” she ran her fingers along his cheek now, brushing underneath his soft little double chin.
His eyes still seemed puzzled and he didn’t say anything, so she kissed him more, considering her next move. She knew it was calculating, but she really didn’t think her plotting was malicious either. She had simply honed some tricks of the fat boy trade. So, the next step after this initial, but not too brutal honesty? Praise his body while touching his fatter parts.
“You’re so flipping sexy,” she moved her other hand down to his side and massaged a love handle more blatantly.
He attempted a muffled guffaw, but her kisses muted it. Boy, he did enjoy the kissing part, that was for sure. She liked that about him already. His eyes were so pleading in between each meeting of their lips. What a romantic kid.
Still, she could see that he needed some more time... not too much though. He had been cruising Tinder, so what did he expect for crying out loud? First base until the wedding?
“I planned a long ride early tomorrow morning,” she’d already told him about her passion for cycling at dinner. “I’d like to see you again soon though,” she grazed him lightly on his lips with hers, and then softly on his cheek to calm his nerves before climbing off of his lap. It was a pivot away from the short game, but there was a certain deliciousness in savoring his inexperience. He may not have been ready to give her the kind of uninhibited sexual encounter that Ty had spoiled her with, but she was utterly fascinated by the novelty of his innocence.
Like a pressure valve released, Colin was sent on his way with one more goodbye kiss and a proactive plan to get together on Sunday. But as soon as her door was closed and locked, she flopped on her bed and spent the next half-hour pleasuring herself with thoughts of dirtier activities involving his juicy bod and her scaling of it. She was growing insatiable with the idea of defiling him by leading him down the sinful path of filthy, smutty sex. He was going to love it, his eyes craved it. His body just needed to let go of that inconvenient protectionism and let it happen.
If this lasted with Colin though, she’d really have to explain herself to her friends.
No, not his weight, everyone was used to seeing her with pudgy guys. She’d actually had a pretty unremarkable process of ‘coming out’ as a fat admirer, if that’s what you want to call it. In high school she didn’t have to explain that she happened to be with the biggest guy on the football team; no one questioned the match other than the expected amount of teasing he generally received for his size.
Then in college she felt like a kid in a candy store, with so many more chunky guys to choose from. Some of them came to college already thick, while others piled on the party pounds after a few months of newfound hedonism and steady indulgence. Maggie found herself enjoying casual hookups with good-looking chubby bros of varying size. Again, no one questioned her in any major way. Sure, there were occasional playful comments from her more observant friends, but these guys were usually in their social circle, so they were all party friends. No major big deal, hookups happen.
It wasn’t really until second semester her sophomore year that her preference finally came up very publicly and explicitly; and even then the evening’s drunkenness had numbed its impact. That night, several shots had been done, and many drinks had been drank. Brady, one of her guy friends who had been mildly hitting on her ever since freshman orientation, turned her welcoming hug into a chance for his hands to roam her waist and move down to her ass. Again with that guy; he was relentless.
Brady was good looking enough that for a while she had humored his flirtations while trying to get him to eat more, just to see if she could grow her own chunky boyfriend from scratch. That plan didn’t materialize; he apparently had the metabolism of a hummingbird.
She shooed him away as usual.
“Mags, you always shut me down, but then you end up with some fat dude.” He shouted rather loudly over the crowd their friends around the bar. “Are you a chubby chaser or something?”
With plenty of liquid courage pumping through her veins, she exclaimed, “Hells, yes!” slamming her fist on the bar. A few knowing laughs passed through her group of friends and that was it, no harm, no foul. Maggie was officially outed as ‘the one who likes fat dudes.’ And by the next day, everyone went from too drunk to judge to too hungover to care. Moving on.
It was a little different when Tyler came along though. The guys before him had mostly been in the mid to upper 200s with a couple reaching into 300s territory. But Tyler was a 400 pounder and that did raise eyebrows. Maggie, he’s really big, some told her, even for you...
Actually, he was up to 437 pounds the last time they checked together. Damn, she loved weighing him. His eyes peering down over the long curve of his fatness at the rising number on the scale; and the sheepish shame he feigned as she patronizingly patted the nadir of his hanging belly in mocking admonishment for him having gotten so enormously overweight... those little moments had given her some of her most primo masturbatory material.
Tyler was a natural fatty, but he was as fat as he was because of the feedings. He liked being big, but he loved being fed even more. He wasn’t a self-stuffer either, he’d admitted as much to Maggie. He only gained weight when he was with a girl; his growth had to be her doing to really turn him on. ‘The way you look at me when I’m eating makes me hungry for so much more...’ He’d expressed some variation on that theme many times to entice her further into his kink.
The fat stuff was not what pulled her emotionally to him though. It was those few times he’d whisper something more affectionate or intimate after the kink part was over. “You’re special Maggie, I’ve never known a girl as amazing as you. I need you in my life...” That kind of talk got more under her skin than any of the sexuality that coursed through their affair. His philandering wasn’t what truly fueled her anger at him. It was that she lost control for only a minute when she fell for his flattery and charm; that’s honestly what made her most bitter.
After Maggie dumped his cheating ass, he’d stopped gaining. He actually looked like he’d lost more than a few. Probably a good thing, she thought, since he had put on a lot in the short time they were together. Had they continued down that path uninterrupted, he’d be well along a path to the other side of 450 with 500 in his sights. If he ever got into a permanent relationship with a true feeder, he’d surrender to his fetish entirely and become immobile by age 30.
When they broke up over his infidelity, she threw that accusation at him, calling him on his inability to commit. “Deep down, I think you’re afraid of getting so morbidly obese that you can’t move; and that’s why you won’t stay with any girl for too long.”
He shook his head in dissent, but she saw bewildered agreement in his eyes too. Clearly she tapped into his psyche a little more than he was comfortable with. It was the first time he’d ever appeared emotionally distraught; and yet still, a trace of yearning also managed to appear on his face at the idea of it. That’s when she knew it was definitely over. She would no longer be his friend with extremely fat benefits.
But with Colin, the blowback wouldn’t be about his weight, not at all. What would get questioned was his youth. She’d have to explain his age to her friends. Fat? Whatever. Five years younger? Still in college? What the fuck, Mags?
He’s very mature for his age.
They grow up faster in the UK.
He’s brilliant, and funny, and a total sweetheart.
He’s an amazing lover. That youth and energy, and his desire to constantly go at it in the sack...
Well, perhaps that last one was too over the top to use as a public explanation, but one could hope it would be true.
Poor Dustin though. He seemed pretty surprised when she met him for coffee after her first date with Colin to break the news to him that it wasn’t going to work out. She made it brief, no explanations. It’s not you, it’s me, etcetera... Her real reasons for dumping him were admittedly rather superficial, but telling him that she wasn’t sexually attracted to him would serve no good purpose.
The next ‘friend of a friend of a friend’ gathering they were both at would be awkward though. The hugely obese boyfriend that came before him, and a tubby young boyfriend right after him? Dustin would finally figure out that he had been a short-lived thin slice of meat sandwiched in between two big, beefy hunks. Maybe someone would have already told him that his ex was a chubby chaser to lessen the shock of it. Friends gossip, right?
Nevertheless, Maggie embarked on her next date strategy with Colin... meet at the riverfront and take a walk through the hills of the city. Perfect for a lovely Sunday afternoon in April, when the rest of nature is getting frisky too. Some people think you need to use treats or good meals to win over a chubby paramour; and maybe that was sometimes true. But brisk exercise and fresh air could also get guys feeling strong, virile, and ready to take on another more entertaining physical activity. She’She'd work him out to see if that would build his sexual confidence up a bit.
“Great view, right?” Maggie felt invigorated. She and Colin had climbed together up a steep hill in a forested park just up from the riverfront.
“Right,” he nodded, hands on his hips. He caught his breath while sweat dripped from his brow. Those cute, flushed cheeks of his absolutely slayed her.
There was that latently sadistic piece of her that liked seeing him exert himself to the point of discomfort. But she wasn’t completely evil, so she slowed the pace along a wooded pathway to a more private rest area to sit down. Great place to kiss. While distracting him with her lips on his, she put her hand on his shoulder, slid down his arm, and then sneakily slipped it inside the crook of his elbow, right onto his thickest side roll.
Flinch. Shit, shit, shit.
Still, she remained resolute; she was going to get her hooks into him somehow, some way. “Thirsty?” I am, and I know you are too. “Want to go walk back to my place to rehydrate?”
It was starting to feel like she was having to talk him into everything; he was always so damn hesitant with her. Even the simple offer of a drink of water? Patience, Maggie.
They walked a several more blocks to her apartment. Her attraction to him was growing, and more than just physically. When he relaxed, he was really funny, in his dry and sometimes sardonic, British way. She was such a sucker for a clever sense of humor, especially when it came from the lips of someone so darn attractive.
All the while she tried to be stealth in admiring his tantalizing shake and bounce. He had that gooey-soft yet perky kind of fatness that made her impatiently crave sex with him. So hard not to gawk.
After guzzling some water, she began the seduction again. Kissing, caressing, reassuring...
As she tried to slightly lift his shirt for a peek, he stopped her. “I’m uh, still a bit sweaty.”
Damn it. Her plan didn’t account for post-exercise sweat as a self-conscious hindrance.
“Wanna shower with me then?” She suggested the way a girl might suggest she get a pony for her birthday; a greatest wish with a very high unlikelihood. But oh man, soaping down all that pudginess, and then affectionately cleaning him between his chubby thighs to get him off... major goals...
He just looked perplexed. She saw his walls rebuilding and was starting to wonder if this was ever going to happen.
“We could just chill for a while,” she compromised.
They sat down.
“Maggie, I’m not used to this,” he got honest in a hurry.
“Used to what?” finally she was going to get somewhere with his hot and cold reactions.
“A woman, like you... coming onto me so intensely,” he meekly looked her in the eyes.
“Colin, I’m attracted to you and it makes me want to do sexy things to you,” she grinned and kissed him.
“I’m... not that experienced,” he opened up more with a slight shrug.
Maggie sat back, took a deep breath and rethought all of her assumptions for a moment... Is this even about his weight? Am I being some kind of sexual predator? Jeez Maggie, walk it back...
“You don’t owe me anything, Colin, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. All I want is honesty so neither of us wastes our time.”
He nodded with some trepidation.
“So, here’s the thing... I get that we hardly know each other, but I guess that’s true of most people who’ve just met on Tinder,” she laughed. “And I don’t care if you’re experienced or not because that doesn’t matter to me. Experience doesn’t mean as much as chemistry, and we have chemistry... at least I think we do,” she almost even blushed herself.
A smile with a look of some relief came over his face.
“But I really want you to get it that you’re totally my physical type. When we’re together I have to work really hard not to grope you all over,” she definitely felt herself blushing now as the warmth spread over her face. “But I’d like to know now if you don’t think you could ever get naked with me.”
He looked somewhat shocked again.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pressure you,” she was starting to feel really guilty for being so pushy. Guilty? Ugh, go away, guilt. Why should guilt ruin what two people want so badly?
Colin was still quiet, and he now looked kind of paralyzed.
“Or upset you if getting naked bothers you,” she couldn’t stop talking. Shut up now Maggie, you had him a moment ago and now you’re losing him.
Before she could grovel any longer, he moved back into her space and kissed her. “Okay.”
“Show me what sexy things you have in mind,” he whispered in a most unexpected way.
Her surprised face transformed into a naughty gaze as she took his hand and let him to her bedroom.
“If something makes you uncomfortable, stop me and we can talk about it, no judgement,” she brushed his cheek with her hand. “Let’s feel our way into it together?”
He nodded with a smile. Her sexual confidence surged in response to his dutiful acquiescence.
They sat down on her bed and kissed for a while.
“You’re a great kisser,” she murmured. He really was. His inexperience made him less of a mauler and more a doting enthusiast. It was perfect, really. Those needy, innocent lips on his young face, sweetly giving her a taste of his repressed lust.
She climbed up on his lap, facing him for a cozier position. He was so comfortable. Pliably soft, so she could ease her body right into his space, but not so much belly that she couldn’t get very close to him. Tyler had taken up so much room that she had to really work around his girth. That had its own excitement; but this new boy... well, his body seemed more accommodating.
Mindful not to relentlessly dive into him and reverse all progress, she rubbed his shoulders and felt him relax a little. Okay... so far, so good. Next his arms... she brushed along them to his hands and clasped her fingers through his. He lowered his inhibitions even more from that subtle intimacy.
He engaged back into her body, returning her moves with his own physical offensive by pulling her closer, while his hands traveled along her waist to her hips. She loved the way that felt, as it connected right into her penchant for dissimilarity. He was finally exploring her toned contours and it made her feel bonkers hot. She almost dove right into his fat tummy again without thinking. Damn this chub fixation getting me off track... stay focused on building his confidence, Maggie, don’t blow this.
There was more kissing and light rubbing of ‘not as fat’ parts, when she realized he needed a fresh invitation.
“Would you like it if I took my shirt off?” She asked him.
He smiled at her like she was crazy for having to ask.
She quickly stripped off her shirt and revealed a light blue sport bra. “You can touch whatever you want,” she invited him to do more, moving her chest into his face. His sweet chubby cheeks nestled between her breasts as he attentively kissed her cleavage.
Now his turn. “Your choice, Colin,” she proposed, “these buttons?” she lightly trailed her finger along his shirt buttons, feeling the general landscape of his softness without yet making a play for the full on grab. “Or this?” she played with his pants button, then teased her fingers along the zipper to make him harder.
“That was nice,” he sighed.
“This?” she stole one more hand sweep along the vertical line of his belly, “Or that?” she fondled him between his legs more.
He moaned, “That.”
“Happy to,” she complied, knowing he’d eventually have to surrender his shirt if he was going to surrender his pants. Unbuttoning them, she was able to get him down to his boxers.
“My turn again,” she whipped off her leggings, and was now only covered by her skimpy, sporty underthings.
Straddled back on top of him, she asked innocently, “Is this okay?”
“Your body is fantastic,” he had total honesty in his eyes while his hands roamed her upper body.
“Mmmmm, thank you... so is yours,” she took that opportunity to reach up under his shirt and quickly caress across his paunch before getting back down to his manhood. She was especially pleased to notice he didn’t flinch as much this time. Perhaps he was too horny to notice anything else.
Now we’re getting somewhere. Fat or thin, the way to a man’s heart was not through his stomach, it was through his cock. She might rather just play with his rolls and massage his flab for her own foreplay gratification, but if she ever wanted to get him so senseless that he didn’t care, she’d have to earn it by playing with what he wanted played with first.
She pulled off his boxers and stroked him between his thick thighs. He groaned and looked into her eyes with pure neediness. She pulled him back in closer into her.
Then, inching her way down to focus between his legs, she closed her fingers around his shaft and licked the tip lightly while gazing up into his eyes. He’d never gotten this good of treatment before; she could see it in his pleasured ache and bewilderment. She licked more with desire in her eyes, while her free hand reached up under his shirt to grasp onto whatever flesh was within her reach.
“Is that okay?” she firmly grazed one finger underneath of his member as she continued to lick him like an ice cream cone, while pushing his shirt up to his chest so she could get more of his beautiful bare belly into her view.
“God yes, Maggie,” he reacted with a shift of his body that sent jiggles across his now partially exposed midsection.
She continued to arouse him, but not going so far as to push him to climax too quickly. Get him hard enough that he’d lose most inhibitions, but not all the way. She had to save that. She couldn’t wait to feel him penetrating deep inside her with his considerable weight taking the plunge...
Colin was obviously into her oral seduction. He was distracted enough that she could match each lick and suck to another one-handed unbutton of his shirt. Now her fingers were free enough to traverse along his naked tummy blubber and then back down to his cock. He leaned back and groaned again.
“You wanna see more,” she raised herself up on her knees, caressing under her bra.
He nodded eagerly.
She unhooked her bra, letting it fall away alongside her bed. She always enjoyed this part. Guys usually liked her boobs. They weren’t the biggest, but they were big enough to look substantial when contrasted with her trim waist. “You want these?”
He grinned and eagerly kissed, massaged and sucked on her breasts.
“We need to get that shirt off,” she felt like he had to be more game now, after all that fellatio foreplay. A nice amount of his softest chub was exposed already, but she had been waiting to see the details of his curvy side rolls and chest, and began to pull off the rest of his button-down and lift his undershirt.
“Maggie,” he sat up and quickly pulled his undershirt back down over the mass of fat resting all around his lap, “I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
“You won’t Colin, I love your cute tummy,” she whispered.
“It’s not that cute,” he grimaced, his face burned bright red.
“It is that cute,” she moved her hand under his shirt again, around his middle and gently cupped the biggest roll of fat on his side. “The more I see of you, and the more I touch you, the more I want to have you inside me,” she whispered.
His eyes just retreated into submission while she took his undershirt off, revealing his chubby chest mounds. Just as she anticipated, they were flawless, supported by budding bulges of fat that perched just above his larger expanse of belly.
Colin looked at her with more apprehension, but her smile drew even wider, “So fucking sexy.”
That chest of his was beckoning her to taste all of it and she didn’t hesitate. Soft, velvety and salty... his moobs were almost feminine in their pertness, with very little hair and even fewer blemishes. “How is your skin so perfect?” she asked him, just now noticing some faint stretch marks lining his roundest rolls.
“Perfect?” he was puzzled again.
“Perfectly,” she giggled and continued to trace her tongue around his nipples, then along his body, pausing to lick the sensitive region around his big belly button, and then back down between his legs.
He almost whimpered. She knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold off to much longer. It was time to go in for the kill.
“I really need this now,” she insisted and meant it too. Maggie had gone so long without any lusciously fax sex that she could feel the throbbing ache of deprivation spread across the entire under layer of her skin.
Climbing on top of him, she readied him in position to enter her. Next time I’ll talk him into pressing that all of that weight onto me...
“Do you need it too?”
He nodded in almost a daze.
“Say yes,” she sighed and grinded herself into him.
“Yes,” he exhaled.
“Tell me you want me,” she demanded his response.
“I want you,” he capitulated.
“Do you?” she was so turned on by his surrender. Finally.
He nodded, almost desperately, “I do.”
“I want you too... inside me,” she reached her hands around his ass and pulled him into her. There was nothing left between them now, she’d fully lured him into her web.
He tried to enter her gently, at first with some carefulness, but she just pushed herself right into him. His eyes rolled back into his head.
Maggie imagined that he was probably feeling some level of euphoria that he hadn’t ever felt before. She assumed that he hadn’t anyway because he had been so damn physically shy. That notion got her off even more. She loved thinking of herself as a benevolent goddess freeing this fine-as-fuck fat boy from his suffocating bodily shackles. Deep down, she knew that it was a totally lame hero complex, but in the throes of sex, she was more than willing to indulge in the fantasy because it made it all even more arousing to her.
“Colin,” she moved harder into him, her hands grasping his juicy love handles while his body quaked, “it’s so amazing with you.”
He groaned and nodded again as a mild smile drew across his face. He was close, but she could tell he was trying to hold back for her. Was he trying to impress her with his stamina? Or just waiting for her? What a gentleman. Just one more reason to love fat guys, they were usually so much more attentive.
Well, not all of them were patient and attentive. With Ty, he was a bit selfish. She usually just slipped her body underneath him and let the heft of his hanging belly massage her clit in just the right place to make her climax. Then to get him off she had to play up his fetish, like grab a huge handful of the fattest part of his gut and whisper something nasty in his ear about his weight; “Ty, you’re getting massively obese,” or some variation of those words; which upon hearing them he would always come instantly.
That was never going to be the way with a sweet-natured boy like Colin though, but that was just fine. He may not have had the unflappable body confidence and fat-fixated kink that Ty had, but he had other, kinder and perhaps more intellectual qualities she was beginning to really like so much more; qualities that might make for a real relationship... was that what this could become? All from a horny late-night perusal of Tinder?
She brought her brain back into the present, appreciating this adorable boy whose sexual fate was now in her hands. Face to face, her eyes looked deeper into his. Her hands pressed flat into his hands and then clasped them, pushing both their arms over his head. While stretching her body out along his, as she found her way to what was clearly his favorite angle of entry. Just enjoy the experience, Babe.
She watched the last of his apprehensiveness relax into a melted pleasure. He had gallantly fought off most of any remaining self-consciousness. His body was still jiggling from the rhythm of her thrusts but he didn’t seem to care enough about it to stop her anymore, and that mutual liberation brought her to the apex. The ticklish intensity had been teasing her for far too long finally washed over her; she wasn’t going to even try to hold it back any longer.
“Colin,” she exhaled loudly, her hips now working double time to get him off.
He released himself into her with an unintelligible howl. Collapsing onto his chest, she gave him a massive kiss of congratulatory denouement. She could really feel the clouds clearing in her brain. What had she been thinking wasting her time trying to make it work with Dustin? This was the way sex was supposed to be…
“Uh, Maggie,” he breathed hard, with the sweat that had beaded along his temples now dripping down his relaxed face.
“Was that okay?” She kissed his flushed, damp cheek.
“Oh, hell,” he nodded, still catching his breath.
“You enjoyed yourself then,” she murmured while dancing her fingers across his tubby torso.
Flinch. Damn it. At least he was still smiling though... Good boy.