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gainingexjock · 8 days ago

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Pleasing The Rich - Part One

NSFW

A loud belch echoed against the deep cherry wood walls of the bed chamber. Herbert was finishing up his fourth meal of the day and it wasn't even noon yet. His body filled out most of the King sized bed he lay trapped in, but he enjoyed that fact. He loved being as fat as possible and had recently discovered that he wasn't the only one who felt that way about their size. He had dived into various forums and websites filled with people who enjoyed being fat. This was probably how he got the idea to hire another servant who's job was solely to concentrate on his weight. He always had his food delivered to his bedside, but he wanted more. He wanted to be fed, he wanted his belly rubbed and jiggled by someone who also enjoyed it. But, Herbert didn't need someone who really enjoyed it; he needed someone who could at least pretend to enjoy it.

As a straight man, knowing that this physical attention would arouse him, he insisted on hiring a woman. She had arrived at the palace and was immediately put to work. A fifth serving of food was being prepared for Herbert, and the young woman was escorted into the kitchen. Simon, the servant charged with explaining the details of her unusual job, walked her through the busy kitchen and introduced her to the chefs. He said, "You will be working closely with them as well."

She nodded and took mental notes. The kitchen staff had filled the rolling tray with Herbert's 5th meal of the day, and Simon explained, "We'll bring this up to him, and on the way, I'll explain what is expected of you."

He began to roll the tray out of the kitchen and as they walked to Herbert's room, Simon explained, "His highness is quite a large man. He enjoys the finer things in life. And most recently, he has discovered a pleasure that he didn't know was there."

The young woman, Eliza, nodded, knowing this was just the beginning of what would be an unusual request. Simon continued, "He has an unusual gluttonous appetite. He spends most of his day eating..."

Simon gestured to the tray of food he was rolling towards the bedroom, "This is his 5th serving so far today."

Eliza let out an audible noise of surprise, and Simon continued, "to be blunt, you have been hired to feed him, and massage his fat. Apparently the idea has aroused a pleasure in him that he would like to try."

She took a deep breath and nodded. Simon spoke again, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

She thought for a second and replied, "I am up for trying."

With a kind smile, Simon said, "And that's all we can ask of you."

They got to the door of Herbert's bed chamber. Simon pressed an intercom button outside the doors and a few seconds later they both opened electronically. He rolled the tray into the parlor portion of the bedroom, then pointed to another set of doors and said, "that is his highness' bedroom."

Pressing another button, the second set of doors opened. This room was excessively decorated. The walls were made of a dark cherry wood that was native to the region, and many old portraits adorned them. The floors were a black marble, which matched the black curtains of Herbert's canopy bed. Eliza couldn't see him yet, as the curtain by his feet was pulled across the bed, hiding him from view. He had heard them enter though. A deep voice spoke through the curtain, "Is that my new hire?"

Simon nodded towards Eliza, encouraging her to speak. She swallowed her nervousness and said, "Yes."

Herbert replied, "Wonderful, come closer, let me see you."

Simon escorted her to the side of the bed and she saw the size of the man she would be feeding. She stumbled back a few steps. Herbert spoke, "no need to be shy."

She smirked slightly and replied, "I'm sorry; this is new to me."

The fat man grinned knowingly and said, "there might be quite a few new experiences for you with this job."

This did not comfort her in any way. Simon used the pause to roll the tray next to the bed. He pulled up a chair and motioned for Eliza to sit. Herbert then said, "thank you Simon, that's all we'll need from you."

He bowed before making his exit. He glimpsed at Eliza in an attempt to comfort her before leaving. Once the door was closed, Herbert reached towards the tray and said, "Grab a plate and feed me."

It was an order, not a request. So Eliza grabbed a plate, put it in her lap, and began by filling a fork with food. To her it looked like a big bite, but Herbert seemed disappointed. He swallowed the bite in one go and said, "don't be afraid to fill the fork. I promise you, I can fit much more than you think in my mouth."

The statement disgusted her. She prepared another fork full, and tried to disassociate as she presented it to his mouth. He opened wide and chewed this time; so she knew this forkful was more what he was looking for than the last one.

"Again." He said, with authority.

Another forkful was fed into his wide accepting mouth. He swallowed quickly and ordered, "I always want a bite ready. Feed me one, and have the next one ready to go. Even if I'm still chewing, force it into me."

At this point she was questioning why she took this job. The pay was extremely good, but was it worth the disgust and nausea she felt?

It didn't take long for him to finish what was on the tray. But she felt relief once the food was gone. She got ready to stand as if her job was done. Herbert chuckled with a hint of maliciousness, then said matter-of-factly, "You're not done. I need my belly massaged."

She looked frightened. He spoke again, "I want you to rub all my fat. Grab it, jiggle it, tell me how fat I'm getting."

She wanted to run from the room. Then she decided that she needed the money, so she hesitantly reached towards the fat of his belly. It fell down to his knees and she wasn't sure how she was going to actually massage it. In order to reach all of his fat, she would have to get closer to him. She didn't want to, so she hesitated. He became frustrated. No one disobeyed him. His voice raised as he commanded, "This is the only point to you. I command you to enjoy my fat. I don't care if you need to pretend. This is your job."

She took a deep breath and then reached out towards his belly. Sitting in a chair next to the bed didn't allow her to reach much. He commanded her again, "stand up. You know what I want. Don't hesitate, do it."

She stood. Standing next to his bed, with the side of his belly pushing against her, she reached over him. She had never felt fat like this before. Hundreds of pounds of fat covered his frame. To massage all of it seemed like an impossible task, but she needed the money and tried to do her job. Even standing, she couldn't reach his whole belly. She leaned over him, feeling the hard fat of his full stomach pushing her away. His fat hands reached down to his belly and he began to rub it. One of his hands grabbed hers and forced it towards his belly button. He instructed her, "put your finger deep into my bellybutton, you'll feel a small indent, I want you to play with that."

She wasn't sure what the point was, but when she had hit the spot he directed her to, he began to moan with pleasure. "Yes, that's it... now jiggle me. Grab as much of the fat as you can... use both your arms... yes... that's it..."

His eyes closed and he continued to moan. She wasn't experienced in this and his obvious pleasure towards it disgusted her. She paused for a second and his eyes shot open. He spoke again as he rubbed his fat, "I need you to pretend you enjoy it. Tell me how sexy my fat is..."

Her breath shuddered. She certainly was not going to tell him his morbid obesity was attractive. Wanting to run from the room, she knew that she shouldn't, so she reached back out again and grabbed as much fat as her hands could, lifting it and shaking it, he began to moan with pleasure again. "Yes..." He whispered, "keep going. Slap my belly..."

She did as she was told. Her handprint left a mark on his fat and he reached down to rub it. She initially thought that she might have slapped him too hard, but his facial expression said otherwise. Moaning, he ordered, "Again. Slap me, jiggle me."

She continued to obey him, but she wasn't sure when it would be over. She grabbed one of his side rolls and began to explore it; gently teasing the stretch marks with her long slender fingers. If she thought of this exercise as an exploratory one rather than a sexual one, her anxiety abated. She had never felt fat like this before. It was soft and extremely heavy. Just lifting the roll of fat that made up his breast caused her muscles to strain. She could only imagine what it was like for Herbert: being constantly surrounded by this weight, trapping him in his bed. She jolted out of her reverie when Herbert noticed that her attention was no longer directed entirely at him. His authoritarian voice raised as he said, "I'm not paying you to dream."

She apologized and said, "I'm sorry, I'm still trying to figure this out."

His voice calmed and said, "I suppose it will take practice... So, keep practicing."

She nodded and returned her attention to his belly fat. It was getting difficult to continue to stand and lean over him, so she sat beside him on the bed. He didn't expect this, but it pleased him. His fat hands were still rubbing the areas she couldn't reach. He spoke again, "now, lift my belly as much as you can."

She tried. Using both hands and arms, she squeezed her limbs underneath the apron of fat and tried to lift it. There was not much progress. Herbert groaned in annoyance and said, "You'll need to build up more strength."

She was about to lay the fat back down and he stopped her. "No, let me lift it."

He did; then, with his fat breasts pushed up to his chins, he said, "The pad of fat under my belly... between my legs... jiggle that."

She found the body part he was speaking about and began to jiggle it, hoping that he wouldn't drop his belly on top of her hands. His moaning became more audible and she noticed as he shivered a few times with pleasure. She wasn't sure why this area was so sensitive, after all she had never seen a man his size, and really had no idea that his penis was surrounded by the fat she was currently playing with. "Oh God, yes, I'm so fat." He whispered to himself.

Then she felt his hardened manhood hidden underneath the fat and realized that she was essentially jacking him off. She felt ashamed for a second - was this what her life was? Jiggling the fat around his crotch to lead him to orgasm? His authoritarian personality caused her to continue with her work. Perhaps if she successfully finished him, this ordeal would be over... at least for now. So she tried harder. One hand reached down into the fat and found his penis, she jiggled the fat pad as the tips of her fingers teased the head of it. Her other hand jiggled the belly he was holding up, being careful to place her finger deep into his bellybutton to find the spot that caused him arousal a few minutes previous. With both sensitive spots covered, she dove into pleasuring him. His breath became short and staggered as if the pleasure was too much for him. But she continued. To her surprise, it didn't take long until he was shaking with an orgasm. She felt the wet thick fluid on her hand and jolted away from him. He didn't seem to care as he was too aroused. "Oh, yes..." He said. Pausing to catch his breath, he continued, "You did much better than expected. Especially for your first time here."

She nodded uncomfortably, then said without emotion, "I'm glad."

He replied, "I will call Simon in to clean me up. Feel free to spend the next few hours exploring the palace. But I will need you back here for my 6th meal around 3:00pm."

Nodding again, she turned around and left his bedroom.

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gainingexjock · 8 days ago

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Pleasing The Rich - Part Three

Part One: https://www.tumblr.com/alternative-ffa/746390688068976640/pleasing-the-rich-part-one-nsfw-a-loud-belch?source=share

Part Two: https://www.tumblr.com/alternative-ffa/746658208075087873/alternative-ffa?source=share

Eliza awoke the next morning; her head pounding, and regret filling her mind. She noticed she was in an unfamiliar bed, but she figured it was her own room until she looked to her left. Sleeping soundly next to her was Herbert. She gripped the sheets with terror. Wanting to escape without him noticing, she gently began to slide herself away from him to the edge of the mattress. She placed her feet on the floor and sat up. The motion of the mattress began to alert Herbert, who reached towards where she had been on the bed. When he didn't feel her there, he awoke with a start. His head turned towards her, encumbered with the fat of his neck and chest. He spoke, "Wait."

She stood and turned around to face him. She was still wearing the basics of the dress she had on the night before, which reassured her that nothing sexual had happened. She still wanted to run from the room, but his facial expression caused her to stay. For the first time, he looked worried and depressed. Still groggy, he said, his voice warbling, "Please. Don't leave me."

This was far from the authoritarian personality she was dealing with the day before. For a second, she felt sympathy. Then she recalled his sexual feeding that she was forced to endure the previous day, and the sympathy abated. Standing next to the bed, she came up with an excuse, "I need to go to my bedroom to take my morning medicine."

He looked disappointed, but nodded and said, "I understand. Can you come back to me later today?"

Him asking a question instead of barking an order took her off guard. She didn't want to say yes, but felt it was easier to agree and escape his presence than remaining there and being ordered to do only God knows what to him. So she agreed to return later in the day as she backed away from him and out of his bed chamber.

As she walked away, she ran into Simon, who was pushing a tray filled with breakfast foods towards Herbert's room. She paused and asked, "Should I be following you to feed him?"

Simon replied, "Oh no. Not this time. But I'm sure you will be called upon later in the day."

She was relieved; then continued her walk to her own bedroom. She arrived and closed the door behind her, letting out a sigh of relief. She tried to recall the previous night. Concentrating hard, she remembered the dinner and drinks. She remembered most of the conversation, then things began to blur... there was a dessert... Herbert gluttonously consumed it... the walk beside his wheelchair as they both went to his bedroom...

But that is where things went blank. How she woke up in his bed beside him was still a mystery to her. She shook her head in disappointment, almost chastising herself for the amount she must have drank to end up in bed with him. She acknowledged that she couldn't change the past, then went to shower.

By this point, Simon had entered Herbert's room with the tray of food. He placed it by his bedside, then locked the wheels of the tray. Herbert remained laying flat on the bed and grunted through the fat surrounding his face for Simon to use the winch to lift him into a sitting position. Simon grabbed the four hanging tethers, made from the same fabric as seatbelts, and attached them with hooks to each of the four corners of a industrial pad on top of the mattress, but beneath Herbert. The whir of the winch, lifting the upper part of his body, echoed against the walls. It clicked into place once he was at the right angle. His fat arm reached out towards the tray and grabbed a plate. He placed it on his belly and began to aggressively eat. Simon spoke, "Are you all set?"

Herbert responded, with dribbles of food escaping his lips and flowing down his chins, "Yes, thank you."

Simon turned to leave, then Herbert asked, "Could you return... maybe in a few hours? I'd like to shower and get dressed before I see Eliza again."

Simon nodded and said, "of course, I'll return at 1pm."

Then he left the room.

Herbert remained. His head pounded from the drinks of the previous night. Even he had a hard time remembering what had happened that caused a beautiful woman to end up in bed next to him. Did he order her to stay in his bed? He didn't put it past himself to do such a thing, but hoped he hadn't. All of these thoughts were going through his mind as he devoured the food next to him.

The tray finished quicker than he would have liked, so he called down to the kitchen for more. He felt that he had enough time before his shower to consume more food.

A few hours passed, and he lay in the bed still hoisted into a sitting position by the winch above him. He was almost delirious with how full his belly was, and he tried to reach down to rub it himself... unsuccessfully. He knew Simon would be in shortly to help him shower, so he avoided the temptation to bring Eliza back in to massage his fat. He could wait.

Simon arrived a few minutes later. Approaching Herbert, he asked, "Are you still up for a shower?"

Herbert nodded and let out a loud, wet belch that echoed throughout the large room. Simon ignored it, since it was a common occurrence, and used the winch again to raise him up enough for him to swing his huge thick legs over the side of the bed. Simon handed him his custom walker, and Herbert struggled to lift himself into a standing position. He began to waddle towards the custom bathroom and huge shower stall. He was still wearing the button down shirt from the previous night, so once he had sat on the shower bench, Simon began to unbutton the shirt, releasing the huge fat belly that was contained within. Once Herbert was naked, the shower heads were turned on. He liked the water as hot as he could stand it, so Simon increased the heat in small intervals until it was the perfect temperature for him. A second servant had arrived, and the two of them took turns lifting his fat and cleaning between the exposed rolls of flesh. Once he was clean, they applied talcum powder between the rolls, and lotion on his extremities. Considering his extreme obesity, he was well taken care of. Most men his size would be covered in bed sores with yeast infections between the rolls of fat that never got fresh air. But Herbert was royality, and he received every benefit his title would allow.

The unnamed servant left; leaving just Simon and Herbert. Simon had gotten a black, micro pinstripe, button down shirt for him, along with a matching black cravat. Pants were not necessary, as Herbert was to remain in his bed. Dressing him took more time than one would think, but once he was, he was returned to his bed.

At this point it was mid-afternoon. Simon asked, "Should I have Eliza come in to you?"

Herbert gulped, displaying slight nervousness - a far cry from his aggressive authoritarian personality. Then he asked, "Do you know anything about last night?"

Simon wasn't sure how to answer, but said, "I know you two had dinner, then she accompanied you to your bedroom."

Herbert nodded and said, "that's all I can remember... I woke up and she was beside me. It was wonderful, but she left so quickly this morning..."

Simon replied, "I wouldn't know what happened once you two had entered your bedroom. I'm sorry, sir."

Herbert acknowledged the answer, then said, "I'm having more food brought up for my 3pm meal... have her meet me up here for that."

Simon nodded and said, "I'll be sure to do that."

Then he was waved away, and left the bedroom.

Herbert lay alone in his bed. Checking the clock, he saw that he had an hour by himself before Eliza and more food arrived. He spent this time trying to remember the details of the previous night. But, just like Eliza, he couldn't recall much. His lack of recall caused anxiety... what if he had asked too much of her and he'd never see her again? He almost called off the order he gave Simon, but he had enjoyed the sexual attention he had experienced the previous day and was hoping for a repeat.

He thought that getting to know Eliza was a mistake. She was hired solely to worship (or, pretend to worship) his fat body, and he knew she didn't enjoy it. Getting to know her as a person created sympathy, and he felt that he wouldn't be comfortable ordering her to do what she was hired to do. His aggressiveness towards making her provide him with physical attention was going to be more difficult with his newfound empathy.

The clock chimed. It was 3pm. The door buzzed and Herbert pressed the button to open it. Ten seconds later, Eliza entered rolling a tray of food towards his bedside. He felt his cock pulse beneath his fat, and he knew he was looking forward to another feeding. He tried to contain his excitement in order to ease the anxiety he assumed she had to be experiencing. She arrived at his bedside and locked the wheels of the tray beside her. No words were exchanged as she sat and grabbed a plate of food. She filled a forkful of chicken and gravy and guided it to his mouth. He gratefully accepted it, despite still feeling full from earlier in the day. She had another forkful ready, but he lifted his fat hand to instruct her to pause. Then he spoke, "I... I was wondering if you recall last night."

She put the fork down and said, "I recall dinner and escorting you to your bedroom; but after that... nothing."

He sighed and said, "That's all I remember as well. I know you stayed the night with me, but I can't recall why."

She felt a bit of relief knowing that the night before, he was just as intoxicated as her, and neither of them could remember.

Herbert looked down at himself, his hands reached towards the fat of his belly. He gently lifted it, then dropped it back down sending ripples across his fat. He let out a quiet whisper of pleasure. Eliza still sat next to him with the plate of food ready. Then he said, "Go ahead. Continue to feed me."

The authority came back into his voice and she obeyed. It really only took her the one day to get used to what he wanted out of her. She prepared the fork with as much food as it could hold and guided it into his wide and accepting mouth. This continued until all the plates on the tray were empty.

Then Herbert made a noise she hadn't heard before. She couldn't describe it, but it sounded like he was forcing out a burp with no success. This continued a few times, then he said, "There should be cans of ginger ale over by the bar in the bedroom parlor. Bring me one."

She stood and went into the parlor, grabbing the can of ginger ale. Once he had it, he began to gulp it down. The can left his fat lips and an unusually loud and long belch erupted from him. He looked relieved and his free hand reached down to his belly and he began to rub it. Then he stopped suddenly and said, "Come, Eliza, rub me... jiggle me..."

She nodded and began to explore his fat. She felt more confident this time, since she had discovered that it was easier to think of his morbidly obese body as a learning experience than a disgusting task that she had to get through. She recalled the two sensitive spots that had brought him to orgasm the previous day, and she went straight for them. One hand jiggled the fat around his crotch, while the other found the spot inside his bellybutton. He moaned with arousal, then grabbed her hand down by his penis and pulled it away. She was surprised until he said, "That's the dessert... rub my belly first. Help me to digest."

She was hoping that going right to his penis would hasten the physical requirement of rubbing and jiggling him; but he caught on and was not going to sacrifice his belly rubs just for a quick orgasm.

His authoritarian personality had come out and he barked orders at her: rub me here, run your fingers perpendicular to my stretch marks, grab my breasts... tell me how fat I am...

She fulfilled the physical requests, but still felt uncomfortable teasing him about his weight. She didn't know how to say, "You're getting huge, you're so fat..." without it coming off as a negative remark.

Her belly rubbing skills had increased, she knew where to lift the fat and jiggle it, versus where to tease his sensitive stretch marks between his rolls.

The belly worship continued and he whispered another order, "Play with my nipples."

She had to stretch her arm to its longest length just to reach his hard accepting nipples. She pinched them, rubbed her hands across them, and then found herself rubbing his chest hair. He groaned and said, "Yes! Rub me there."

She continued. It was hard to decide how long she should keep her attention on each body part. He liked his chest rubbed: should she stay there until ordered to rub another part of him? She decided to improvise and spend only a few minutes each on the body parts he enjoyed being touched. He continued to moan in pleasure with his eyes shut. She reached down again to his crotch. He felt her difficulty reaching down under the apron of fat that hid his penis from view, so he lifted his belly up as much as he could. Another quiet order came from his lips, "Yes, give me my dessert."

She knew he wasn't referring to food, and this was his permission to finish him. She had noticed how sensitive his nipples were and initially tried to give attention to both areas. But he was too fat. Her arms weren't long enough to play with his nipples and his penis at the same time. So she switched her hand to the sensitive spot in his bellybutton. Following the same procedure as the previous day, her finger teased his bellybutton while her other hand dug deep into the fat of his crotch. It was almost like digging for treasure. He was hard as a rock, so finding his manhood was easy. It was the only hard area on his soft fat body. She jiggled the fat and played with the small part of his penis that was exposed. His breathing increased in speed; she knew he was getting close. Then, at the same time that she felt his cock pulsing with pleasure and cum covering her hand, he let out a wet belch.

"Oh, God, yes!" He almost screamed.

She had stepped away at this point, cleaning her hand with a napkin. He tried to catch his breath and then said in delirium, "You're too good to be true! I've never had an orgasm and a burp at the same time. Such a pleasure!"

She felt the familiar disgust, but noticed it wasn't as pronounced as the previous day. She realized that she was getting used to this - a little too quickly for her liking.

Herbert came back to his senses and said, "You may leave now. I'll call Simon to clean me up."

She nodded and left his bed chamber.

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gainingexjock · 8 days ago

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Entering your bedroom is always a pleasure for me. You spend all your time in bed. I walk in and you can never see me over the bloated belly that traps you on the mattress. You know who it is, but you still have a slight sense of terror at the rare possibility of a stranger walking into your room.

Normally I'd be wearing heels, and you could hear the familiar click of my pace across the floor. I've been visiting you a few times now (as a volunteer for giving company to shut-ins), and now go barefoot in the house, so my approach is more silent.

Your fat bloated hands reach down to your belly. You can't even reach all of it, but you rub vigorously what you can reach. A wet burp escapes your gullet as you are still digesting your breakfast. Normally your cheeks would turn red with embarrassment and you'd apologize profusely; even as a second burp erupted. But, by this point, you've noticed that it doesn't bother me.

I walk to your side, just so you can see me. You smile and say, "I suppose it's lunch time?"

You loved eating. Food was erotic for you. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't judge. I smiled back and replied, "what would you like today?"

Usually there were groceries delivered, and healthy options in your cabinets and refrigerator. But you had consumed all that... as quickly as possible, almost on purpose so you could order more fattening food. You had a mischievous grin on your face as you said, "Well, I know there's not much in the house... so take out?"

I tried to hide my smile. It was my job to help you; to make sure you made healthier choices. But, I secretly loved how fat you were. The idea of you growing bigger turned me on, so I enjoyed this change of plans.

You pulled up a menu on your phone. I saw your fat fingers moving quickly as you added item after item to your cart. I should have stopped you. I should have told you: only one meal. But my silence was consent. You put your phone down and said, "It should be delivered within the hour - could you grab the bags for me when they arrive?"

Hearing bags, plural, made me look forward to the feeding frenzy that I knew was inevitable. You were so fat already; you must have an otherworldly appetite.

I never got a front seat to your binging before; no doubt because you usually preferred to eat alone. I almost expected you to ask for privacy when your huge lunch arrived, but I secretly hoped you wouldn't.

While we waited I sat next you in a chair beside your bed. The conversation was mainly small talk and I could see the increase in nervous excitement as the time passed and your food was on its way.

Your phone chimed. Grabbing it with excitement, your fat hand almost dropped it, but caught it before it fell to the floor. You hiccuped and then said, "It's been delivered. The side door."

I got up and made my way to that door. There were five large bags of take out and pizza boxes. I was shocked. It was going to take at least two trips to bring the food into your room.

I placed the first two bags on the chair next to you, turning around the grab the last 3. It was less than a minute when I returned with the rest of it, and you had already dived into the bags on the chair. Your mouth was full when you saw my expression of surprise. Your chewing slowed, then you swallowed and said with a hint of desperation, "I'm sorry, I was just so hungry."

I knew my response would be the difference between being able to stay and watch you stuff yourself, or being asked to give you privacy. I thought quickly and said, "Don't worry. I'm glad you're enjoying your food."

You smiled... just the response you wanted. Your fat hand reached into a container of mozzarella sticks. You grabbed the marinara sauce and placed it on your belly. Each time you dipped a stick in the sauce it overflowed and left blotches of red on your bare skin. I reached over to a paper towel roll beside your bed just out of your reach. For a second you stopped eating, your eyes curious about what I was doing.

I grabbed a piece of paper towel, stared you right in the eyes, and sensually licked it. Then I reached towards your belly, lifted the sauce container and cleaned the marinara that had spilled all over you. I couldn't glean from your facial expression what was going through your mind, but you let me clean you and then continued to eat.

It didn't take long for you to get through a full serving of mozzarella sticks, twenty-five Buffalo wings smothered in blue cheese dressing, onion rings, garlic bread, two large pizzas; and for some reason, a salad. Watching you consume all that food was such a turn on that I spent most of the time trying to hide the arousal I was experiencing.

There were a few things I noticed during your stuffing... you became messier and messier as you ate; you burped often, rubbing your belly firmly to almost force the burps out. You mumbled something in the middle of your meal while you were pushing a belch out of your stomach and I didn't hear it. But I realized what you had said later on... that you "were making room."

I began cleaning up. Grabbing the empty take out boxes and putting them in the empty bags. You were in quite a state: covered in sauce and crumbs. A messy, gluttonous fat man. But you weren't embarrassed. I was grateful for that.

I walked the trash out to the kitchen, then grabbed more paper towels. This time I wet them in the sink... I don't think I could ever create enough saliva to wet the towels enough to clean you adequately, despite how erotic you seemed to think it was.

I could hear you moaning in your bedroom. An occasional wet burp was all that could interrupt the sounds of pleasure escaping from you.

I came back into your room. Your eyes were glazed over with the inevitable food coma that eating enormous quantities of calories causes. You barely even looked at me as I began to clean the crumbs and sauce from your breasts and bloated belly. But you felt me rubbing your body with the wet paper towels, and you groaned again. Your fat hands reached down towards mine which were engaged in cleaning you up. I noticed that they were covered in food as well, and I held each hand as I wiped the food from your fingers.

Wet burps continued to erupt, and I took it as an opportunity to get closer to you. Your fat hands were massaging your belly as you lapsed in and out of consciousness. So I took the initiative. I reached out and began to massage your girth. You moved your hands away to give me room. I essentially dived in. You were so large that I couldn't rub your belly adequately from the chair next to you. I stood and leaned over your impossibly fat body. My thin hands began to explore every inch of fat. I gently ran my nails perpendicular to your extensive network of stretch marks. I felt your body shiver and buck with excitement. Your stomach was hard as a rock. You wouldn't think it would be noticeable under hundreds of pounds of belly fat; but the sheer amount of food you consumed made it noticeable. I firmly rubbed the fat over your stomach, copying what you were doing when you burped out the statement that you were "making room".

You were in and out of consciousness still, but managed to mumble statements of pleasure as you felt me exploring your huge body.

At this point, I couldn't resist. I made my way to the end of your bed. You tried to lift your head, to see what I was doing. But your belly blocked any view you could have. I crawled up between your legs... and to my surprise you lifted your belly. Your hands reached as far as they could and gripped the sides of the obese curtain of fat that covered your groin. I reached out and lifted what you couldn't. Then I saw what was hidden under your belly. A huge pad of fat that had an indent where your penis should be. I dug my small fingers into it and felt how hard you were. Your dick pulsed with pleasure and I wished it wasn't so deeply hidden and restricted from use. I tried to touch it; I wanted my mouth around it; but it was impossible.

You groaned again, "oh please, please fuck me."

I wanted to. I severely wanted to. But it was impossible. I retreated from your crotch and had to tell you, "It's not possible. There's too much fat."

I was shocked at your reaction. It wasn't disappointment. It was a turn on. You whispered to yourself, "oh my God, yes, I'm too fat to fuck. Oh, I'm so fucking fat...."

I didn't expect that. But it aroused me more than I knew was possible. Too fat to fuck... the ideal man.

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gainingexjock · 8 days ago

Text

Your wet burps; escaping from your gluttonous belly echoed on the walls. You were over 800lbs, but you weren't aware of that. Once you had hit 500, and outgrew the scale, you stopped caring what the number was. God only knows what you would think if you knew just how much weight trapped you in your bed.

But would you care? You binged every day... getting constant deliveries at the door.

You could barely get out of your bed. If it weren't for the handle hanging from the ceiling and your bariatric walker, you'd be trapped, and unable to get the food that's delivered to your door. But this concept excited you. You wanted to be trapped. Stuck on your bed due to your morbid obesity.

The only issue was loneliness. Yes, eating constantly, rubbing and massaging your fat, was such a pleasure that you didn't even mind the loneliness. Until you were so full that you'd do anything for female attention. Stuffing yourself to an extreme was a pleasure in and of itself... but what if there was a sexual opportunity? What if there was a woman who loved how fat you were? Who would feed you and rub you and fuck you?

You shook the idea from your mind. After all, it was impossible, right?

You couldn't even reach your dick. It was hidden under the fat of your crotch, like a button on a pillow. And even if you could dig through the fat to reach it... your belly prohibited it. Hundreds of pounds of belly fat reached to your knees... there was no way to reach under. You'd eat to the point of a coma, imagining what it would be like to have your dick sucked as you lay there floating in and out of consciousness.

Your imagination was adequate... but not good enough to really experience it in your mind.

You burped again. The noise aroused you. But you kept floating in between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You knew there was no chance, but you tried to reach your dick. You began to rock your body back and forth to get momentum to roll on your side. You wanted to touch yourself desperately, and you groaned and grunted as you tried to roll yourself. Once you were on your side, you dug under your belly. One hand tried to pull the belly fat out of the way, while the other desperately reached for your crotch. You began to elicit noises of frustration. You needed to touch yourself, you wanted to ejaculate. You had always been able to do it before... but your weight gain kept increasing. You had reached the point where you couldn't touch yourself anymore. A scream of sexual frustration was released. You couldn't reach.

Your only option? Continue to eat. Fill yourself with calories. Become so full that the sensation alone aroused you to potential completion.

You won't be able to finish yourself... but didn't you know? Your appetite, your gluttony, your extreme desire to become as fat as possible... it was your choice.

Becoming so fat that your dick became an undiscovered country? You never thought of that as an eventually. But, it aroused you.

You can't touch yourself... but you have enough fat that you can jiggle the fat pad covering your manhood. You grab the fat around your dick and jiggle it as much as you can. You feel the fat rubbing against your penis... and you speed up your efforts. Your legs shake with pleasure, and the thigh fat jiggles. Those rolls making up your thighs begin to wave into the fat of your crotch. You keep the motion going... desperate to ejaculate. And suddenly you succumb to the pleasure of cumming. Moans escape your lips as your hips buck with fulfillment.

You come back to reality... satisfied.

Except... how are you going to clean your cum covered crotch? You can't reach it.

But that's a problem for later.

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