#femalefatadmirer

[bigguyalex]

Any ladies interested in top tier cuddles in exchange for encouraging me to gain more weight? I just crossed 300 lbs, but I bet I could keep you a lot warmer and comfier at 400 lbs -- just saying :)

[distinguishedblizzardtraveler]

Can confirm, that this is very true. FFA's get bombarded with every slim guy and "puff gut" wanting their help to get "huge" but most guys who start off that small, never stick to it, and chicken out. Or some that gain 50lbs and then want to go back to how they were. FFA's don't want to waste their time with being part of a start-up project. They want to be with someone who is into it, because they want it for themselves. Btw gaining a considerable amount of weight on your own also shows initiative and that you can do it on your own.

From my experience, while I gained unintentionally, I never really got any attention from female feeders, even when I was in the 200s. It was when I was past 250 and into my 270s, when I actually started getting attention from FFA's.

Btw, a great idea is to also show you have a life outside of this kink, oh and to learn how to dress and look sharp for your size. Women love that (even when kink talk can be the opposite).

#FFA #FemaleFatAdmirer #LookingforAFeeder #BHM #Gainer

How did you get a feeder? I feel like it’s impossible 😭

🚨THIS IS WHAT EVERY SSBHM/BHM WONT TELL YOU!!!🚨

You gotta get fat fat! Prepare to do it on your own for a LONG TIME! You gotta gain over 150lbs you’ll need to post to get your name out there! Also dont lonely post or post from saltiness thats a mistake I wish I didn’t make! Dont try and come up with witty messages a good female feeder will approach you buh she wont until you are over 290-350lbs.

Honestly, from my experience, the women who are brave enough to message you first blossom into the best relationships because you know that they are into you. The issue with messaging a bunch of female feeders is that they already get crème blasted with 1 million messages and if they don’t automatically fall in love with you at first sight then you’re really gonna have to work extra hard when there’s already 2700 other dudes in DM‘s who are just as fat as you. I would also work on your life and be more interesting than just the fetish from my experience. Having some thing that you are proud about in life is extremely helpful. you will have to message other feeders and reach out to them. Just be prepared to be left on read almost all the time.

Be prepared to be just a fetish for most female feeders or FFA. A lot of them are still dealing with deep, seated insecurities, and often a can project that onto you and make you feel like you’re not enough I’m here to tell you when you do get this big that you are enough and you do deserve love don’t let ghosted texts other things get to you go and put that energy towards something productive and make yourself more interesting for the next person who comes along! I hope this helps you. I hope you listen to my advice. This is the game that no one’s gonna tell you and I’m glad to share this with you.

When you do find a feeder, I can tell you it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. There are ebs and flows and ups and downs be prepared to fight for the person that you care about regardless of how hard it gets no matter how complicated it gets. remember how much you love the time you spend with them, I hope this helps!

[fatdaddy2pointo]

I just need to be fed and fucked right now.

#ssbhm #feedist #feeder #hornyaf #thirsty

#cupcakes #cookies #bellyworship #femalefatadmirer #hotgirlsfatguys

[bigfatbob4you]

Part nine, fatty love. #FatHearts #FatValentines #SSBBW #SSBHM #Fat #FFA #FemaleFatAdmirer

[alternative-ffa]

I want you immobile.

Desperately dependant on me for everything.

But it's what you want too. To be too fat to move. Too fat to speak without mumbling. Too fat to breathe.

Your only hobby is eating. Every calorie you consume arouses you. You don't want to waste any as you lick all your plates clean after every meal.

You want immobility. You want to be completely dependent.

Just keep eating. Your dreams are within your reach... because dreams are the only thing you can reach at this point.

[alternative-ffa]

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.

[alternative-ffa]

TRAPPED - Part One

You thought you were mobile. Years of living on your own, and no access to a scale that could weigh you... you were sure you were only 550lbs; maybe 600. You splurged on a bariatric scale years ago, but it only went up to 500lbs. So, you just had to guess what your weight was once the scale became inadequate.

Your bedroom had been moved to the living room years ago, once the doorways in the hallway became too tight for you to squeeze through. Your full bathroom was one of those doors... and you felt the annoyance of not having access to a shower. You were lucky there was a half bath with a barn style sliding door that you could squeeze though to at least use the toilet... not that the toilet was built for your size. You jury-rigged encyclopedias by each side of the toilet, so they could help hold your weight. Your fat fell to each side of you, and these old books helped take the heaviness of your huge belly and rear end, so the toilet didn't crack.

Almost everything in your home was adapted to your extreme obesity. Once you realized that you could no longer squeeze your fat body through your bedroom door, you were smart enough to order a bariatric hospital bed for your living room.

The day it was delivered and set up was an embarrassing one. You never felt embarrassed by your size when you were alone (which was most of the time). But standing there, with your cane to steady your body, watching them bring the bed in... dealing with stares from the delivery men... it was not your finest hour.

You were grateful for the bed. It increased your ability to be comfortable in your home. But it didn't fix the loneliness. You are only 38 years old, and yet you felt as though you're 60+... no family, no friends who visit... you are alone.

Nights are the hardest. It's when you dreamt of love. Of a beautiful woman who would enjoy your company. You don't need someone to enjoy your body... in fact, you feel that that would be impossible. So you just want to settle for someone who would love you despite your morbid obesity. Each night you dream of that ideal, and each morning you get punched in the face with your reality.

You have no idea that there are women out there who would do anything for intimacy with a beautiful man as fat as you. In fact, you are so uninformed that you have no idea women like that exist. You've given up on the possibility of intimacy.

Your life suddenly changed. You rolled yourself out of bed, like usual; your fat feet touching the floor. Using your cane, you lifted yourself to a standing position. Once you were standing, you had no problem waddling into the kitchen. At least, this was the usual daily procedure. But this particular day was not to be easy.

You filled a pot with water, preparing to make pasta. Standing by the stove, suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your left ankle. You had a high pain tolerance, but this was too much. You gripped the counter to try and stay standing, but there was no hope... and you succumbed to the pain and fell to the floor.

You wanted to shout for help... realizing that you had no ability to get off of the floor. But no one could hear you. You are alone.

Days passed. The only reason you stayed alive was the pot of water you had filled before the fall. On day 2, you used all your energy and strength to grab it, knowing that it would be a long time before help arrived. You rationed the water. Taking sips every now and then.

You couldn't reach your phone, you couldn't call for help... so you hoped that the mailman would notice that the mail was piling up.

You were lucky your mailman was aware that you were a shut-in. After 3 days of mail piling up, he called for a wellness check.

You were weak, embarrassed and ashamed. But you felt a tinge of relief when you heard emergency services at your door... "Hello? Do you need help?"

You screamed, "please! I'm in here!"

You heard them pounding the door down. Although you knew you needed help, you didn't want your front door damaged; but it was too late.

Emergency personnel poured into your home. They found you, laying in your own waste in the kitchen, trapped on the floor where you've been for 3 days.

You disassociated the whole time they were there since it was the only way your mind had to protect yourself: hazmat teams cleaning the floor AND you; male nurses and EMTs using inflation lifts to help you into a standing position. You couldn't stand. Your ankle was broken. It took eight men to help you back into your bed.

You resisted the reality of being too fat to move. But with your ankle, it was a reality you had to confront.

Once you were in your bed, they informed you that a doctor would be by the next day. Then they left. You were trapped: alone, lonely, and discouraged. Knowing your ankle was broken, and you'd have to wait at least twelve hours to be seen by a doctor, you cried.

The sun rose like usual the next day. You used to enjoy the light coming through your window... but now, you felt anxiety. A knock on the door caused your heart to skip a beat in your chest.

A female nurse and a older male doctor entered. You hadn't seen a woman in years, and for the first time in a long time, your dick stood at attention. You blushed, feeling your penis throbbing under the fat of your crotch. But you knew you were too fat for anyone to notice, even if they had lifted your belly.

An erect penis on a man as fat as you can only be described like a throw pillow with a button in the middle. Your dick was the button... barely seen beneath the fat pad. You thought you were impotent; but gazing at a beautiful woman proved you wrong.

The doctor spoke, but you barely listened. Another man walked in with a gigantic scale. You could only watch as they set it up and tried to convince you to stand. They knew your ankle was broken, but finding out how much you weighed was quite important. Being held up by two strong men, they had your good foot on the scale and slowly released their hold to get an accurate measurement.... you watched in horror as the numbers climbed... 500, 600, 700.... then it settled at 825lbs. You gasped. Tears began to fall. You weren't sure if it was because of the pain, or if it was because you had no idea you had gotten that fat. You were sure you were only 550... maybe 600. So seeing the numbers climb to 825lbs instilled absolute terror.

The doctor and nurses left the room once they had you back in your bed. You could hear them talking, but couldn't make out what they were saying. You heard the front door open and close and the voices dissipated; then the clicking of high heels on the floor became louder and louder until the female nurse was by your side.

You weren't sure how to react. This was the woman who caused your dick to stand at attention. You tried to pretend you weren't aroused. She had long black hair, bright hazel eyes. Even making eye contact with her made you look away immediately. She smiled at you... a kind smile, implying she was there by choice.

But you refused to believe it. No one would spend time with you by choice. So you fought any kind of attention she gave you.

Laying in your bariatric bed, she pulled a chair over from your dining room. She placed it next to your bed and sat; still smiling kindly at you. You didn't know what to say. You spent the last five years alone, and had no practice in speaking to another person. For her, silence felt awkward, so she spoke: "I'll be here with you for my shift; so the next twelve hours. I hope this is okay."

You wanted to say, "I'd love the company. I don't have visitors. I think you're beautiful. I haven't seen a woman in ages..."

But instead, you grunted in acknowledgement.

The silence felt deafening. She spoke, "is there anything I can get you?"

You hesitated; breathing deeply, you said, "Would you mind getting me a drink? I have some whiskey in the cabinet... maybe two shots and an ice cube?"

She smiled at you again and said, "Sure."

You watched as she stood from the chair and turned towards the kitchen. You couldn't help but stare at her body as she walked away. She was thin and thick in all the right places. You couldn't help but stare at her rear... perfect childbearing hips that caused a primal arousal in you. Your dick throbbed again beneath your fat. It was an experience you hadn't had in years. There was nothing that could arouse you when you were alone: which was all the time. You couldn't tell whether you were pleased that your manhood worked, or disappointed.

Finally feeling arousal for the first time in years was pleasant at first, until you realized that it was all for nothing. You were too fat for sex... not that you felt there could possibly be any opportunity for that kind of intimacy with her.

She returned with your drink, and to your surprise, she had a drink of her own. She sat next to you and said, "I hope you don't mind if I join you." As she lifted her glass.

You felt joy. For only a moment. You tried to avoid eye contact so she wouldn't pick up on your arousal....

To be continued...

[alternative-ffa]

I want to spoil you. To shower your fat gorgeous body with attention and love. I want to do everything for you.

I know you're not used to it. You have only received negative attention when it comes to your extreme size. You tend to see any positive attention as disingenuous.

I'm not very good at articulating my attraction. To me, bringing attention to how big you are is the best compliment I can give. I have to remind myself that most people don't see it like that.

Emphasizing just how large you are is my instinct. I know not to tell you directly, but my big mouth after a few drinks has me praising your beautiful body to mutual friends. I've been so involved in the fetish community that praising your obesity is normal for me. But that kind of praise is too easily misinterpreted. It's too easily seen as an insult... or worse... that I'm insane for being attracted to you for your size. Or I'm dangerous, as if I'd encourage bad habits and prevent you from choosing healthy options for my own sexual desire.

A fat fetish is a mutual effort. A partner who enjoys his size is necessary.

I write dark stories. Knowing that my audience (and my partner) loves it as much as I do. But, in reality, most big men outside the fetish would be horrified by it. My attraction might be good for a one night stand, but never a long term relationship if the man hates his obesity.

In fantasy, a man who hates his size is sexy. But in reality, I would never encourage it.

We have a responsibility with our attraction. We can't use someone for their weight if they aren't attracted to it as well. ♡

[alternative-ffa]

He's huge. I can't stop staring. I know that I have to, because there's no way he's going to interpret my looks in a positive way.

I wish there was some kind of obvious sign for us fat admirers to give to the big men out there. But there isn't.

And some would take it negatively. "Oh, you're attracted to me because I'm fat? I hate being fat, so there must be something wrong with you for liking it."

That's the fear.

...

I arrived at the office building, holding my coffee with my purse across my chest. I saw him there in the hallway, waiting for the elevator, stuffed into a suit that certainty didn't fit him. I desperately wanted to stare at his huge belly... but I knew better.

I stood beside him, also waiting for the elevator. But, I couldn't even manage small talk. Just a cordial smile.

The elevator arrived and we both got on. I felt the elevator floor shake when he entered. The doors closed and he asked, "what floor?"

He had already hit the button for the fourth floor; where I was going. So I smiled and said, "same floor."

We stood there in silence, as the elevator slowly moved upwards. I hate silence. I had to say something. We both had our coffees in our hands and I raised mine and said, "Gotta have Dunks before work, right?"

He smiled at me, obviously nervous. And he said, "Yup!"

The doors opened. I said, "Have a good day!"

But I wasn't sure whether he would head left or right. I just moved to get away from the awkwardness. I'm a pretty quick walker and went to the left to get to my office door. I could hear him lumbering behind me. I wanted to turn around and watch this big man waddle his way to whatever office he was headed for. But I knew that wouldn't help anything. So I walked quicker... taking a turn down a hallway, I finally lost him.

It's a new office for us. I run into new people each day. All I can hope is that I run into this big man again.

But even if I did... what would be the benefit? I wouldn't be able to say, "Oh, by the way, I think your body is beautiful."

Can you even imagine if I did?

[alternative-ffa]

"Too fat to move."

It's just a sentence. Basic. But the concept itself is the sexiest thing I can imagine in a man.

To have the luxury of just even viewing someone that huge... someone that impossibly fat: it's not something I've been blessed with. The eye candy that would provide.... I'd get poisoned by the sugar. ♡

And even if I did have that opportunity; would he truly believe that I find his gigantic fat body attractive? It's a fine line. Telling a very fat man that he's gorgeous because of his weight can be unbelievable. It can be taken as sarcasm, as a joke, as a mean thing to say... because how could that be?

Extreme fat is the only thing that arouses me. I'd do anything to be with a morbidly obese man. To shower his body with physical attention. To touch every inch of fat. To jiggle every roll. To gently tease every stretch mark.

But it's not to be. I can only find that glimmer of joy through my fantasy.

I'm The Great Pretender... adrift in a world of my own...

Years of make believe. Years of only finding arousal through my own imagination.

Is it ever to be? A very fat man, just for me?