Chapter 3

Flash forward a few weeks and I finally developed the courage to ask Dee out outside of work. I expressed my attraction to her and told her I’d love to get to know her more as a person. And her being her, she was so sweet about it. We went on a handful of dinner dates that were so sweet and lovely, and I knew I was a goner because I was really starting to fall for her.
But there was one thing that was blowing my mind. I think she was trying to feed me.
After spending most of my sexually active life encouraging my partners to eat, I had never had the roles reversed. I wasn’t even sure how common feederism was – a few hundred thousand people across the globe? Maybe a million? – what were the odds that we had found ourselves in a non feeder setting? Maybe I was getting ahead of myself with this. Maybe she just liked food and I was using my horny brain to overanalyse.
But here my out, last night we went out for dinner and a bottle of wine at a boutique restaurant in the city. I didn’t want to indulge too much because a) my clothes were getting tighter, and b) im a feeder not a feedee!! But Dee insisted on ordering a platter for starters, with the whole works. Dumplings, garlic bread, cheese. Every fattening food you could think of, and she kept feeding me with her fork over the table, saying “try this try this”. I could feel my normally flat belly pushing out against my dress. I was so conscious of the softness of my inner thighs pressing together, my arms jiggling slightly as I picked up another dough ball. I had never been fed like this before.
And it was turning me on.
I hadn’t told Dee yet about my kink. I wanted to get more comfortable around her first. I also wanted to know she wouldn’t be scared off quickly (as had happened in the past). But the way she was encouraging me to finish my plate and smiling had me wondering if I was getting played.
“That was so good wasn’t it?” She took a sip of wine. “You seemed to really enjoy that.”
I felt a flash of hotness between my legs. My stomach was feeling full now. “We haven’t even had dinner yet and I already feel full.”
“Or dessert” she looked pointedly at my stomach that was very visible through my dress. Oh I was definitely wet now. I had been fed by partners in the past but usually as an adjunct to my own feedings. The most I had ever gained was 10 pounds – yeah it kind of turned me on but I had always preferred feeding, and weight gain seemed like an inconvenience to me.
But the way Dee was looking at me, hungrily, as she sipped her wine was making me wetter and wetter. The wine wasn’t helping. I was so attracted to her that I was willing to eat more if it made her happy. We hadn’t had sex yet but the sexual tension between the two of us could cut a night. I was so horny at this stage that I was willing to eat an entire cow if it meant her touching me. The main courses arrived and they were massive. I had a huge bowl of rigatoni, and Dee had a steak. Which I sampled. It came with garlic potatoes. Which I also sampled. And I ate every last piece of pasta.
Oh god
I leaned back in my chair, so stuffed now that I felt massive. I was still so turned on too. Dee was chatting away and she kept glancing at my stomach. The waiter came back and asked how everything was.
“Great” I said. “Everything was so good”.
Dee nodded in agreement. “Could we get a dessert menu?”

Over the next 2 weeks myself and Dee went on 3 more dinners, and each time I would leave feeling like I was 3 stone heavier. She was eating lots too but her metabolism must be rocketfire because she looked as petite as always. I, on the other hand, was definitely starting to fill out a small bit.
I stared at myself in the mirror. These pants were a favourite – black and soft material. And now I was struggled to button them. I took a deep breath in and yanked them to close the button. I breathed out and watched my stomach push out against the straining button, and love handles (love handles!!!!) push over the sides. My thighs were stretching the seams. Even my boobs seemed to be taking up more space. I turned to the side and ran my hands over my small, but protruding, pot belly. I couldn’t possibly go out looking like this. The pants were digging into me from all angles, and I was so aware of every excess pound that now clung to my frame. All the food and cake and Dee passing me a fork with cake on it with a gleam in her eye –
And all of this was making me wet. It didn’t help that the crotch of the pants were pressing into my clit. I was getting off on how tight my pants were feeling. I shook my head. I couldn’t keep doing this. I had always valued staying slim – I was always the fit one in a relationship (granted me and Dee weren’t even in a relationship, yet, but if I got my way), but now here I was, a month into knowing this woman and I was stretching the seams of all of my clothes.
I had agreed to meet Dee for a coffee and I thought about changing into something looser but damn it I was already late. I ran out of the house, conscious of the feeling of body parts jiggling that I hadn’t felt jiggling before.