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Not bragging with the picture. Just letting you know. If I'm not answering messages, it's because I'm overwhelmed as hell. Also, I'm engaged.

[moomoomaruu]

I just had a California burrito that measured from the tip of my finger, to my elbow 🤤 The biggest burrito I ever seen!

Everyone was so shocked I finished it, and I gave them my best:

And now, I need to get back home to the old fashion fudge sheet cake, & praline ice cream that’s calling my name

[justcantnot]

This is so hot.

[mortiskiller]

Last night ended with eating a pizza after grazing for most of the day ☺️ lucky you all get to see @ihatemakingusernames rubbing my gut as I whine and moan.

[the-2nd-one]

The fattest guy in the office, or anywhere really, is used to being called “big guy” and being cast a double glance when someone first sees him. He takes it in stride—says he loves to eat—but knows he’s not anyone’s type.

So he never goes for the plunge. He never picks up any signs – not that he thinks there’s ever been any.

He’s used to girls befriending him and he expects nothing more. He has a lot of female friends.

A new worker in the office befriends him, he thinks little of it. She’s a few years younger than him, a little less experienced in this field, so she’s always turning to him for help.

Little does he know she’s obsessed with him. She sees him across the room, shimmying between desks or struggling to grab something from the floor and she’s drooling around her pen.

She unbuttons her shirt when she goes to see him. She sits on his desk as she talks with him, a shoe off when no one’s around, to run a foot up his thigh and under his massive gut.

Trying to stave off his embarrassment, he asks, “Are your feet cold?”

“So cold,” she insists and does the same with her other foot. She tries to aim for his crotch, but he corrects her direction, thinking it’s an accident.

She brings him massive drive-thru breakfast orders, and lunches and she made herself. Invites him out for drinks and even invites him back to hers on several occasions as her apartment is closer to the place they drink at.

He doesn’t make a move because he thinks all of this is innocent, even when she tries offering her bed because the couch is no place for a guy like him to crash.

She finally gets him in bed when the elevators at her apartment complex are out of order. She stays with him as he’s dangerously out of breath and sweating like crazy up the five flights of stairs, and dotes on him with such care after guiding him to the couch. She helps him unbuckle, unzip, unbutton, letting his big, handsome belly spill out freely.

She rubs warm, soft thumbs sympathetically on the angry red lines on his belly. Massages his feet after helping him get his shoes off.

He can’t lie, seeing a gorgeous woman on her knees, massaging his feet with her cleavage and bra on show for him, it’s hot as hell, but he shrugs away the feeling. He scolds himself for watching her ass as she heads to the kitchen to fix him a sandwich, because he needs his strength back. She insisted.

That night, they share the same bed, but for the first hour or two, there’s distance. Not much, because he’s taking up a full half of the bed easily. He’s nervous, too nervous to sleep, and she’s trying to lightly doze, banishing herself to the very edge of the bed just to keep that few extra inches of space.

He’s propped up a little more against the headboard than her to keep himself from snoring as bad as what he normally does, and it grands him a clear perspective of her.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Do you want to come closer? There’s not much space. I promise not to do anything.”

She takes a moment to accept. “You don’t have to promise anything,” she says, before taking her chance to tuck herself under his arm, stuffing her thigh between his thighs his gelatinous overhang, so close to everything else that it makes him gulp.

“…Okay. I won’t.”

Normally, she’s awake before him and making him breakfast to send him off when he wakes up on the couch after crashing at hers, but the following morning, he’s awake before her. She’s fastened to his side, nestled in adorably, using him like a big pillow. There’s drool all on his chest. The fresh streak is going down where his ribs used to be, under a thick layer of fat.

After that, they become closer. In the office, co-workers start to tease him about his ‘girlfriend’, which he has to dismiss to spare her her dignity. She doesn’t deserve to be teased just for being friends with the fat guy.

She invites him over for breakfast more. She even invites him to a garden party for a barbecue with her friends, and she asks him what he thinks of her new bikini.

“Yeah, it’s, um… good.” Because what else are you meant to say when an attractive woman is showing herself off in front of you, but you aren’t dating? “You look great.”

“It’s a really good material, too. Want to feel?” She presses her chest into his side and puts her arms around him.

Sometimes, they even have dinner together, and then they’ll cuddle together again when he’s too full to protest. Sometimes she rubs his belly for him when he’s exceptionally stuffed, because she has this miserable frown on her face when he leaves anything she’s made him.

He feels guilty for how expensive all this must be for her. A table full of toasted bacon sandwiches all for him one instance, a smorgasbord of breakfast menu fast food items the next, a full breakfast the time after that. He invites her over to his for a change, and orders pizza, wings, dirty fries, but takes note of how she says she’s stuffed after two slices, some fries, and a single wing, and then is working to inspire him to finish everything else.

He sees the little bloat under that black mini dress too. She’s not joking: she is full from just that. He couldn’t dream of it. It’s such a small portion to him.

He felt terribly awkward when he opened the door to find her in a pretty dress and evening makeup, hair done up and shoes sleek and elegant. She even brought a red wine. He’d answered the door with a beer in hand, in sweats and a T-shirt, assuming things would be casual, but she smiled at him like he’d just answered the door in a tux with a bouquet of roses.

“You look handsome tonight,” she’d said.

“I – um – yeah. Ditto. Beautiful, I mean. You’re– I mean, you. So.”

She giggled.

Once all the food is cleared, he’s panting heavily and sitting back. She pushes up his T-shirt without needing to be asked. She pushes the waistband of his sweatpants under his belly and starts to rub.

“You really overdid it, sweetie,” she says, as she has many times before. “But it’s okay, I’ll help you.” As usual, she starts at the sides of his belly and works her way inwards. He groans in relief from it.

She puts a knee over his thigh, precariously on the small bit of seat space his corpulence has to offer between his spread legs. His heart hammers. “What are you–?”

She straddles his thigh, perching on his knee. He can feel the heat from her– her–

“Arms up. Let’s get you comfortable.” When his arms go up, she helps pull off his massive T-shirt, squeezes one of his pecs with a tipsy giggle. “You’re so soft. So pretty.”

His brain short-circuits. “You- You know I’m not gay, right?”

She pauses. “Yeah? I’ve been flirting with you for months. You never make a move,” she sulks. “So is this okay? Can I make the move for you?”

He nods dumbly, and immediately she’s unzipping her dress and shrugging it off. He’s face to face with her bra and panty set, black lace and silk. She’s beautiful, but so tiny in comparison to him. She could wear a leg of his pants as a bodycon dress, he’s sure of it.

“The moment I saw you, I wanted you. I was obsessed with you.”

He licks his lips. “I told myself not to get my hopes up.”

A desolate expression takes over her face. She shakes her head, mostly to herself, and arches over his embonpoint to put her nose to his neck. “Your cologne’s nice.”

“Thanks…”

“I like it when you don’t shave for a while, it’s so cute.”

“N-Noted.”

“And those swimming trunks… they looked ready to burst. And these sweats are so hot. I like dressing up for you. I like that you didn’t. I want you to be comfortable. You barely look comfortable in work.”

Then it clicks for him. All that food. The takeout. The encouraging. The foot massage. “I’ve gained so much weight because of you.” He puts a hand on the crest of his belly. “Look what you’ve done.”

She kisses him with a gasp of awe. She clearly cannot help herself anymore. He can smell how wet she is, let alone feel it dripping onto his knee, through the fabric of his sweats.

“Do you think you’re too full to lie down? I was hoping you’d top, anyway. I want to feel all of you coming down on me.”

He can’t believe this is happening. Before he knows it, he’s staring at her on all fours on his bed, waiting patiently for him to lift up his gut and—jeez, he has to lift up his gut to have sex now. It’s so heavy. When was the last time he had sex? At least with a girl? Where he topped? He doesn’t know the answers to any of the three.

She whimpers when he lets his belly drop onto her back. He stresses immediately: “Are you okay? I can get off of you–”

“No,” she sighs, sweetly. “No, this is perfect. You feel so full, it’s perfect.”

Maneuvering himself to get in is difficult, but after a minute or so he succeeds, panting. His knees are twinging a bit, and the angle is hard to keep… he tries lifting her hips a bit more, but it’s a fight against gravity with his massive stomach in the way… Okay, yeah, no, he can do this. He can do this fine.

His thrusts forward are cumbersome, making him pink and sweaty and limiting friction. She rolls her hips back to meet him, pushing herself against the covers.

They find a rhythm, his belly so full and contrarian to the prospect of sex being good, sloshing and moaning with every thrust. The weight of it drags air out of his chest, and by the end, he’s ruined beside her, gasping and scarlet.

He should be– oh God– he can’t– he should be the one to wipe her down. With a cloth or something right? But he’s so… he’s so spent, he can’t imagine getting up now, trying to get his breath back before sleeping.

Beside him, she fingers herself to completion, which is embarrassing. She shows him the way she rubs his spend on her pussy, on her clit, using it as a donation, before rushing into the bathroom to pee.

When she’s back, it’s with a damp washcloth, and acting as though she didn’t just have a 400lbs man poorly fuck her, wipes him down with the cloth. Gets rid of excess sweat and cleans his fat pad up.

She kisses him sweetly, off again, only to return with a candy bar from the kitchen. “For your health,” she says, as she does when she means to get your strength back.

A candy bar for being too fat to fuck. That’s a new one.

She comes behind him and rubs his belly some more as he munches down the bar in three greedy bites, smiling at him like he’s just demonstrated an insane level of ingenuity.

“You’re so handsome,” she says.

“Thanks.”

He still can’t quite believe it.

ib: abigfatboi-bhm

[drum-tight-tummy]

person accidentally overeating and getting a belly ache: 👌

person who likes stuffing being super into how full and bloated they are: 👌

person who likes stuffing accidentally going past their limits and getting a terrible belly ache and knowing it’s all their fault:  👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌

[mortiskiller]

One last treat before I go to bed 🛏️

[iwritebigbellies-blog]

I know, I know what I USUALLY like.

But tonight I just want a big man who has overeaten just because he can, because he's hungry, and big. He's not laid low, but he's not shy about it. He's pretty pleased with his performance, and wants me to admit I was too. He's going to grunt and groan about it while he pulls his belt off, he's going to rub his belly and burp, and he's going to recount everything he ate, showing off.

I want to pretend I didn't notice or don't care, because I want him to show off more. To really try to prove it to me. I want him to tell the same story three times, in case I didn't catch it. I want him to roll his shirt up over his belly and show me how he can't even suck it in, just to get a rise out of me. I will try to control my blushes, try not to stare. I want him to get almost annoyed: he knows this should be turning me on, so why aren't I cracking?

He might be all swagger, but he really, really needs my approval. He needs to know I am as desperate for him as I can be. So he plays it up, exaggerating his moans, drawing attention to his excess every way he can.

Maybe he even goes in for a last beer, a final dessert. Pushing it even after he has pushed it, just to break me.

Who will break then? I think I would enjoy the contest: my self control against his stomach capacity. Will he make me cum before he eats so much that he regrets it? Will he get the satisfaction of reducing me to a feral muse, or will I get the satisfaction of hearing him beg for a hand getting off the couch, getting off at all?

I would like to find out, tonight.

[makemewobble]

Like please make me under dress and take me to the one food court you know has the best fast food I can’t say no to.

Please get everything with extra sauce and mayo on whatever it applies for.

Please “Forget” the tissues and napkins when you come over with the first of six trays of this meal.

Please just sit across from me without making a peep, just rubbing my thigh and under belly with your foot while I grind against the chair and eat faster.

Please wipe the edge of my lips and call me messy when the rest of my face is covered in sauce and grease.

Please keep rubbing my belly while the elastic waistband slips down and my belly pushes forward.

Please rub small circles around my belly button cause you know it’s become so sensitive I can cum from it.

Please keep fetching the other trays just before the last one runs out.

Please force me to waddle out leaning on your shoulder cause I’m not fat enough for the scooters.

Please rub my belly while I burp and moan the whole way there.

Please tease me for making such a fucking mess of myself the entire way, whispering just loud enough for the passerby’s to hear you.

[youretheonlyonewhoknows]

Reblogging again because

[feedercassidy]

Hearing you moan and whine while I shove more food in you, just reminds me what a good piggy you are.

[gh0stbelly]

Fuck, finished all 4 meals for lunch. Had 2 large rice bowls with vegetables, fish, and pork, one extra large salmon stir fry, and some danishes. I’m feeling fucking amazing right now. I wish I had a feeder here to keep shoving more food down my throat 🥺

[carolinequinnx]

there’s no reward in suffering. unless it’s from an overstuffed belly, then it’s all worth it 😋

[collegefattygirl]

my belly is so tight rn...

can't even pull the waistband of my shorts over it cuz it needs to breathe....

[justcantnot]

🫦 Greedy greedy.

[collegefattygirl]

my belly is so tight rn...

can't even pull the waistband of my shorts over it cuz it needs to breathe....

[collegefattygirl]

my belly is so tight rn...

can't even pull the waistband of my shorts over it cuz it needs to breathe....

[fatlesbianjoyer]

greedy girls who truly believe eating is the solution to every problem. tummy hurts? must be hungry. exhausted from walking a few steps? must need more food for some more energy. heart pounding just from sitting up in bed? something to eat should calm it down.

[cheeseburgersinparadise]

Just ate a whole bunch of fast food way too fast and now I'm just lying here rubbing my tummy and trying to finish my ice cream and my soda. Oh nooo if oooonly someone was here to spoon feed me and tell me I'm such a good boy for getting so fulllll oh maaaaaan...... Sighs dramatically.......... When is it my turn to be happy

I could do it if you’d LET ME!!!!!! I’m soooo good at spooning ice cream into mouths (my own included) so I bet I’d be so good at that job 🤭

Turns out I’m also rly rly good at praise. So uh. yknow. 👀👀👀

[stonednsoft]

officially cracked 350lbs!!

february(about 300)-may, I think I’ve filled out a little is it noticeable?

[justcantnot]

😍😍😍

[the-2nd-one]

Male feedee whose partner says things like “such a good man”, “that’s my man”, “what a man” when he does things like pack his gut full of food (home cooking or fast food), finishes off their leftovers with a gallant effort, rub his own belly to coax out red-cheeked burps if necessary, sit his ass on the couch for hours and hours to watch TV and recieve food from his partner, struggle to get out of bed with such a big gut in the way…

Yeah, what a man.