Chapter 2 - part two

A year passed, and I didn't. I never found that thing. I thought I fell in love once or twice, but was it really love if I had to hide myself? Was it really love if I couldn't bare to touch them?

I would have done a lot for them. But without feederism? I'm not sure I ever truly loved them.

At eighteen I decided to try feabie. It always ended with me being disgusted at myself and deleting my account. There were several people there that were patient with me though, and took the time to explain that feederism could be whatever I wanted it to be. I could have my partner gain weight, or stay the same size. It could be something that we could engage in once a month, or something that we did every night.

It could be as extreme or as gentle as I wanted, I just had to make a decision. I started coming to terms with it, and I even met a few couples who were married. That was the first time I realized that despite being in the minority, there were others who wanted a relationship and lifestyle. They wanted the fantasy.

I just had to find the right one.

I started allowing myself to picture what I truly wanted. And if I'm being honest with myself, the things that I wanted then are the things that I still want now.

I have a partner now, someone who's also into feederism. He's my bestfriend, the person I tell everything. Quite honestly, I still don't believe that it's real. He can't want this like I do, and surely not forever.

When I write, I usually hold myself back. But I'll allow myself to be completely honest, if only just this once.

He's far away right now, and I want so many things. People say that the answer is obvious, that I could find someone not so far, someone I don't have to wait for. I don't think i'm waiting on anything. It doesn't make a difference to me that I can't physically be with him. I love the things we have now. Things aren't on hold until I can touch him, things are happening now. We aren't on hold. We're real.

I never thought I could fall in love with someone so fast. I never thought that I could continue to fall more in love with him each day. But I did, and I do.

My future is unsure and my fantasies may vary, but he is the one thing that stays constant. He is the one thing that is always there.

I think about him as I fall asleep most nights. I don't like to admit that. Sometimes I hope that if I dream about it long enough, I'll wake up and everything will have become a reality.

I imagine that he's truly mine, that he'll let me take care of him, that he'll surrender his willpower to me. I want nothing more than his trust. I want him to believe that I desire the best for him, to know that I would give him the world if he asked.

I want to touch him, I crave it far more than the bottle of pills on my nightstand. I want to spend hours feeding him, kissing him, and exploring each and every new crevasse, roll, and stretch mark.

I want to wrap my legs around his swollen belly and sit on his lap while we watch TV. I would happily run my hands along his body, or trace shapes along his skin for hours. I fear he would get bored of it, that me loving him could become something that he merely tolerates.

I want him to sit in between my legs while he eats, even if it half crushes me. I'd love to try to wrap my arms around his waist. After awhile, I don't think that I could.

I want his body to be my safe place. I want to burry my head into the crook of his neck when I'm scared. I want to curl up into a ball and use his belly as a pillow. I want him to climb on top of me after a day of binging and stuffing, and drape his body over me like a comforter.

I want to fall asleep with him no matter his size. Sometimes I imagine him massive, taking up more than half the bed. Sometimes he's smaller than I am, with a little, slightly swollen tummy. Either way, he is always pressed against me or in my arms, full and content.

I want to wake him up every morning with breakfast already planned out. I want to rub his legs and inner thighs while he eats in bed, I want to ease away any tense feelings about the day he may have.

I want to stuff him senseless and leave him gasping and moaning for more. When I have to leave the house for work, I want to leave him in a tingly, stuffed state of bliss. Every time. No exceptions.

I want him to relax while I'm gone, to do whatever he pleases. I want him stuffed and turned on by himself. I want each new pound and stretch mark to turn him on and excite him more than the last.

I want us to spend hours admiring the gradual changes, grabbing playfully and desperately at all the fat, our kisses laced with happiness and desire.

I want him to pull me close and whisper that he's proud of us, that he loves our contrast, that he needs to feel our bodies together... now.

I want there to sex. Hours and hours of it. Sometimes I want him dom, sometimes not. Sometimes I want him tied up, sometimes he's force-fed, and sometimes he's pinning me against a wall demanding that I call him "daddy."

But no matter what we're doing, I am completely and utterly devoted to; and in love with him.

Im human, and I worry. I worry that he doesn't want the same things that I do.

Of course, I make mistakes and mess up. I know it would be easier for him to find someone closer and less complex. I wonder what my family would think about us. I couldn't hide a relationship forever, not that I'd want to. I wonder what everything would be like, realistically, and if I could make him as happy as I want.

I know I'm young, and naive, and that things will never be exactly like I picture them.

I know I can't predict the future. I can't say that I'll get the future or happy ending that I want.

All I can say is that I love what I have at the moment. I feel so happy to be where I am, with such an amazing person. I have endless fantasies, kinks, and confessions that I hope to be able to write about in the future.

If you made it this far, my name is Kate, and these have been confessions of a female feeder. Thanks for reading :)