#fatmenaresexy

[aprilcornwall]

Had a douchenozzle try to tell me plus size/ #fatmenarentsexy....Yeah ok 👌😂 ofcourse he was using it to justify the sexism in his #fatshaming lol but I was like um...yes they are...💁 #shoutouttoallplussizeguys #😍 #plussizemen #plussizemodels #zachmiko #hawt #sexyaf #hotplussizeguys #plussizeissexy #plussizemenaresexy #plussizepositivity #fatpositive #fatacceptance #fatmenaresexy #plussizemenarentsexy #plussizeguystoo #chubbyguyscuddlebetter #chubbyguydoitbetter

[jerrodsteffes]

#planetfitness #gymselfies #iphonex #menwithbeards #menwithtattoos #beardsandtattoos #beardsandink #rayban #raybans #clubmaster #clubmasters #raybanclubmaster #mensfashion #menwithfashion #fatmenaresexy #fatguywithtattoos #fatguywithstyle (at Planet Fitness)

[alternative-ffa]

Just one step at a time..." you whispered to yourself. Walking had become difficult, but you refused to admit it. Your thick heavy belly pushed against your legs as you waddled. So each step was like lifting hundreds of pounds with each leg. A cane had become a necessity and you wondered if it was even helpful anymore - was it time to use a walker? Or even a wheelchair?

You had finally arrived at the side of your bed, panting in an effort to breathe. You knew you had to sit down. As you turned around to lower your huge fat rear onto the bed, the fat jiggled and swayed. You knew not to move too quickly or the momentum of your weight could topple you over. If that happened, who knows how long you would be trapped on the floor until someone found you?

The weight gain had been happening so quickly you were almost immobile. You never knew which steps would be your last. But you refused to accept it.

You sat on the side of your bed, catching your breath from the short walk back from the bathroom. Going to the bathroom was emasculating, you had to sit down to urinate. It had been a long time since you were able to even reach your penis, nevermind being able to see it.

What surprised you the most was your own lack of concern. You grew fatter and heavier every day - it was only a matter of time until you were trapped by your size, but you never saw that inevitability as a problem. It was just a fact that would eventually catch up with you.

Your stomach growled. Sitting on your bed, you reached down and firmly rubbed the fat of your stomach, trying to calm your hunger. But it did nothing. Grunting with effort you pressed the intercom button next to your bed. The fat of your neck and face muffled your voice as you spoke, "I'd like my lunch now, please."

An affirmative came from the voice on the other end of the intercom, and you sighed. You were unable to lay in bed by yourself, so you waited until help arrived. Granted, the help would also be arriving with enough food to satisfy your exceptional appetite. As you waited, your excitement grew. Your stomach growled angrier and angrier as the minutes passed. It hadn't been longer than ten minutes when your bedroom door opened and a three shelf rolling tray filled with plates of food arrived. You snapped in anger, "I'm starving, what took you so long?"

The servant bringing it in apologized, but didn't take the anger personally. You were always frustrated when you were hungry - it was never personal.

Holding yourself up in a sitting position on the side of the bed was difficult, and certainly not conducive to the gluttonous binge that was about to occur. The servant knew to help you lay down and raise the head of the massive bariatric bed so you were in a supportive sitting position. You hadn't even started to eat yet when a belch erupted - clearing air in your stomach to make room for the caloric foods you were about to consume.

Your daily binging was a private affair. You wanted to dive into the food, but waited until you were alone. Laying in your bed in a sitting position, the head of the raised mattress holding you up, you reached for a plate. It was one of many. You always began eating with utensils, and after multiple plates, ended with shoving as much food as you could down your throat with your hands. Eating caused pleasurable delirium, so you never minded how messy you got. The servants came and cleaned you up anyway. Plate after plate was forced down your throat. You moaned, grunted, and burped. It was an auditory affair as you succumbed to your gluttony.

An hour or so passed, your plates were empty. A loud belch echoed against the walls and you were covered in sauce and crumbs down your double chins and your breasts. The sauce dried in your chest hair as you waited for the servant to return to clean you.