chapter 1

I loved @biglegwoman's story "Foodie in Love" at
https://fantasyfeeder.com/stories/view?id=3043 56... so sweet and inspiring!

So inspiring in fact that I came up with my own episode somewhere in between. Here it is, and I hope biglegwoman finds it a respectful compliment to her own writing...!



One slow evening on the couch, with pizza, and after we were done with a series, you flipped through the channels, and came across a before and after picture of a young women. I instantly recognized her as a feedee from fantasyfeeder, one of my secret playgrounds on the internet.

You stopped and said "Oh my god, she looked so much better when we she was bigger", and I, of course, agreed. The feature turned out to be an 8 minute report on a feedee, and "after", of course, was her growing fatter. And there she was, sitting with her boyfriend on a couch, beaming with delight as he fed her a donut and stroked her belly while doing it, introducing us to a world we ourselves were also living in, but without ever loosing a word between us on feederism, being a feedee, or being a feeder.

"She does look happy and good", I volunteered, as we saw more after pictures. "Yeah, so does he", you chuckled, and coddled up to me, your head resting below my lips, your warm soft body leaning into me. I gave your fat hips a squeeze. "And I am with him", I said. "Who wouldn't want more of a good thing?"

"I can't believe they're taking this out to TV, though", you said when both of them were raving about the growing attractions of feeding in the bedroom. "I mean in their internet communities, yes, but on TV?"

"Well, it's probably liberating" I said. "Kind of like coming out of the closet, I guess."

"Yeah, but what about colleagues? Or haters?"

"I don't know", I said. "Maybe colleagues have already been suspecting she was a feedee?"

"I'm happy you're only a foodie, baby", I added. "Foodies don't make for much TV interest."

"Yeah, me too", you said. "We don't have to be on television."

They talked about the early stages of their relationship now, when both sensed they had a common attraction. They loved to go out for a big meal before hitting the sheets, and she enjoyed that he was always encouraging her to have another bite, and indulge herself just a bit more.

"Sounds a lot like us, though", you purred, and I could tell you were getting turned on.

So was I. I had begun to stroke your back slowly, tracing your bulges with love and care. Now I had to shift my lap a bit, but you caught on and placed your hand in my lap.

"Yeah, she may have been starting out as a foodie", I said.

"Yeah", you said slowly. "But I think she's turned into a feedee because he's a feeder. He's like a fetishist - I mean look how focused he is on her fat!"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "He's definitely enjoying every ounce and roll of her."

"But like he's intense. I mean wow. You, you love me with everything, but him, I mean it's like he loves everything on her. Like he loves her fat more than her personality."

There was a pause. The couple on TV demonstrated funneling a weight gain shake.

"Well, I'm glad I can't become a feedee because you are not an evil feeder", you asserted.

"Thank you, baby", I said, as I gently stroked your back and your hips. Your hair smelled so good, and I kissed it. "Well, I love you with your curves, and I love that you love to eat, and I love you now and I love you with ten more pounds."

"And I loved you fifty pounds ago, and I will love you and enjoy your hot body if you ever gain fifty pounds more," I added.

"Be careful what you wish for", you chuckled. "But thank you. And thank you for not tempting me to become a feedee."

"Does that mean that if I actually was a feeder you could be tempted to become a feedee?" I teased, wanting to explore the subject a bit more.

"Well, you're not evil, you're gentle and respectful. But generally yeah, I mean let's be honest, the line between a foodie and a feedee is probably fluid, and I might be tempted to give in and grow a few pounds for my man if he makes me his feedee because he loves it."

"You're such a good and generous lover!" I whispered. I patted your hips, slowly reaching for a few pats on your jiggly ass. And I kissed you again in your hair.

We watched as the couple walked off into a sunset, she waddling, he lovingly gazing over her.

"They are beautiful together", we both said simultaneously, as sometimes happened, followed by our laughter.

The report was over. You switched the TV off.

Your hand felt out the warmth in my lap, as you set up to face me. We were both a bit flustered.

"Sit here", I motioned, and you sat on my lap facing me, your breasts before my eyes, and your wide hips beneath my kneading hands.

"Sweety", I said, "you are my foodie, and I don't know whether that term exists but I think I may be your fooder, l mean like, your food provider. And I enjoy that a lot. And every pound of you I enjoy, every ounce, and every ounce more is more goodness."

You leaned in to kiss me. We kissed as I caressed your softness. I could feel you pressing into me, and pushing your round belly out against me. So beautiful, so great to feel your lush body.

"You're my man, you're my provider", you breath in my ear. "I love that I'm your foodie, and you're my fooder...."

We kiss more intensely, and then I shift us to reach for some leftover pizza in the box on the couch. You close your eyes and open your mouth, your hungry eager mouth, and I gently begin and continue to feed you softer and rounder and bigger and fatter...