You really try to pretend that you don't like your size. You HAVE to pretend. If your family and friends found out how much you loved your obesity... how much you wanted to get as fat as possible... you'd have to deal with so much bullying that it is not worth being honest with them.
It's easier to pretend that gaining weight is out of your control. You get sympathy. "Oh, he is trying to lose weight, but it's difficult."
If only they knew... you want to be as fat as possible. You'd get no support. In fact, you'd get pressure that there is something wrong with you... "You need to see a therapist."
Why can't they accept you at the size you would like to be? You identify as a fat man. But that's wrong. Why can't we respect all identities? You were meant to be as fat as possible... but that identity isn't valid. It's "unhealthy".
I love being with you. I love when you overeat and waddle your way towards me... pinning me to the wall with the hundreds of pounds of fat that make up your belly. You grab my hands and place them on the hard fat of your stuffed belly. I venture up to your breasts... so heavy and fat. Jiggling your tits... playing with your nipples... rubbing the hair on your chest that covers your breasts.
I love teasing you... telling you what a fat fuck you are. You love hearing that. "Fat fuck" is a compliment.
But outside of our home... you pretend. You are fat. It's just inevitable. I can't give you the attention you want when we're in front of family or friends. You feel that it needs to be a secret.
If I slap your belly in public... it turns you on, but everyone else sees it as mistreatment. No one can be attracted to fat! I must be abusive by slapping your belly in public. As if I'm the bully. But I'm the supportive one. Indulging your desires. And keeping your secrets.
But, yes, behind closed doors... it's all about feeding, and gluttony, and fat admiration. You crave food all the time. You love consuming calories. You love the attention that I give to your ever growing belly. You love being fed. You love being called fat.
I order so much food for you. You eat it so quickly. I spend so much money on your appetite. Hundreds of dollars of food each night. You stuff yourself silly, and you try to turn me on... you burp, you moan, you jiggle your fat. You stare at me, daring me to touch you, to encourage you... to enjoy our secret.
You are so erect as you jiggle your full belly. It covers your thighs, and you know I will have to dig deep through the fat to reach your dick. You love watching me struggle to reach your manhood beneath the hundreds of pounds of fat of your belly. It turns you on even more as I fight through the fat to reach you.
You burp again; wet and gluttonous. And speaking of wet... I'm flooded with desire. I need you inside of me.
I want you on top... feeling your weight crushing me.
Such an impossibly fat man... fuck me... crush me...
Make me struggle to breathe beneath your weight, as you desperately try to fuck me.
But you can't hold yourself up. We have to switch position. You fight to lay on your back. You grunt and moan. You need to finish. But we need to put a pillow beneath you. It's the only way your belly will allow traditional sex.
The weight of your breasts pushes into your neck. But you love it. You feel so fat, and it just turns you on more.
I flex myself, squeezing your dick inside of me. You continue to moan. Then I hear you, "oh, I'm so fucking fat. Tell me how fat I am!"
In between breaths I indulge you... "oh you fat fuck! You gluttonous hedon! You're so lucky you can still fit inside me!"
You grunt with an orgasm. Cumming over and over. You collapse.
I haven't finished. But I know how to...
I'm going to stuff you silly. Arouse you even more. I'm going to fuck you again, but I want you to be a belching mess, so I can finish.
So fat and full... lucky that you have someone who loves your weight.
Let's fill you to the brim. Let's watch you struggle to fuck. Your efforts might not be enough to finish me. But just being able to enjoy your fat body...
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