chapter 1

Though I've taken to committing the synonyms for it to memory...there are never enough words to describe how wonderful fat is, the feel of it, the sensuality of it.

As a woman it's wonderful to explore mutually arousing imagery and ideas with somebody who shares them so closely. Especially when they are so specific, it can be hard to find someone else who truly "gets" it, Gets how intensely erotic and sensually arousing it is imagining being hugely fat or in my case making slow sweet love to a big bellied man.

Yes...the weight of it, softly sagging under gravity's pull...the butter softness of it, especially the fattened male's underbelly or the virginal soft fat of the underside of a woman's breast.

The feel of it swaying as he walks, occasionally brushing the tops of his thighs...the jarringly erotic tug of it as he descends a stairway, or feeling it pushed side to side beneath him by small but strong hands as he regains his breath on hands and knees, the feel of my breasts against his back as I lean over him struggling to reach both sides.

Pressing up against him from behind, my small form sinking in the rolls and softness of his back... squeezing his ample love handles with vigor. Sliding my hands carefully beneath the swell of that belly as I struggle to lift all of that weight. Picking it up and letting it drop and bounce, warmth radiating from every inch of your well-rounded form.

You are big but I admit I want to experience a bigger man, so fascinated I am with every aspect of an obese man's body. How every part of it grows differently. From the way the fat hangs off of the arms to those thick, tree-like thighs. How the belly grows larger and slowly succumbs to gravity. How it seems to grow in size when you sit, filling your lap completely, overflowing onto your thighs...

Or when I kneel before you and push your knees apart considerably wider than you can on your own, my heart lurches as this great belly slowly slips between your meaty thighs sagging between in a soft convexity I ache to touch and explore.

Kneeling here I revel in the sight of my creation, my nipples erect and my loins wet in my arousal at the immensity of you, your incredible roundness when you are overfull like this, the way your proud man breasts rest atop the swollen curve of your upper belly, full and almost womanlike many times the size of mine.

I move between your massive thighs, dwarfed by you, pulled into you by your own gravity and as I mold my small body against yours time stops for me...endlessly feeling your soft warmth against me as you gently stroke my slender back.

Your belly is overwhelming, dominating my field of vision. As I lean in closer your skin expands to my horizons, your body vast, endless. I trace a finger down the length of your gut along your fiery pale stretch marks, evidence of a well-fed man. The cause of those stretch marks sends a raging pulse through my center and I let out an involuntary moan, aching to be all over you, touch you every bulge and curve and fold of your enormity.

You are immovable, like a mountain, and my poor bed creaks beneath you. The apex of your belly is still firm from your last meal; I was committed in making sure that not a single crumb went to waste and right now, right here you are bigger and fatter than you have ever been. And now I can revel in my creation, this insatiable beast that I have helped to make.

Your breaths are heavy and languid, slowed and strained from the sheer weight of the food in your abdomen swelling out toward me as you try to lean forward. So close my small breasts begin to press into you, feeling the heat radiate from your torso and between your legs. My nipples erect as your hand moves to touch my head, brushing your thick fingers through my hair.

Fingers deftly twining in my silky hair, a barely perceptible floral scent rising as you massage my scalp, cupping my small head in your huge fingers, relaxing me, pulling me into you, against your curving immensity, my urgency matching yours as we move into each other, the thrusting pressure molding me into you, forcing your stiffening manhood into the silken sac of male fat between us.

Your scent is intoxicating, a confident mix of masculinity and the last meal you devoured still on your breath. Your belly gurgles and murmurs audibly as your stomach works on to digest the series of endless feasts I have made for you. Your breath catches as I slide my hands beneath this great belly, your skin moist and warm, letting your fat lay heavy on my arms.

Your navel is deep and inviting, like the rest of you, and I am in complete bliss in the presence of my great bear, your grunts and heavy breathing playing like a symphony in my mind. Your hands are strong, like the rest of you, and as they slide away from my head I can't resist but to lay a kiss upon your fingers, desperate to show the depth of my appreciation for what you have let me do to your body.