The Pleasure Dome

Chapter 1 - the pleasure dome

Judging by the light leaking past the drawn curtains, it must be about 10:30-11:00 AM. Boy am I hungry. I don't mean regular hungry, I mean really, seriously hungry.

It's not just the physical / biological hunger we all know...I want to eat and need to eat, for me, it's what I DO, it's what I am good at. And I hadn't eaten in hours. We don't tube feed...my hunger and lusts seemed ample and worth utilizing to grow my bulk. See, it is not just getting fatter, faster...it's about the lifestyle and pleasure too.

I'm salivating. Why you might ask? Well that's easy, I smell a nice, big, greasy breakfast gorge being prepared - that's what woke me up. I feel almost giddy with anticipation, like a child about to open his presents on Christmas day. Except my presents are edible, and Christmas comes many times a day.

The sizzling sounds, the clatter of the many frying pans, the bubbling of the deep fat fryers, and the odors of fresh pastry, grease, and creme fill the air. I had been dreaming of a huge feast as I slept, and now I'd have one for real, and very soon. I think about food, all the time. I stretched out my fingers and toes, nearly all of my mobility at once. After a big yawn my sense of smell is sharpened and my anticipation builds as my tummy starts to rumble and beg to be fed, pampered, and worshiped.

Breakfast is one of my favorite meals. Curious, I take a deep breath, breathing in deeply through my nose so that I can better guess what delights are coming my way. I sleep quite a bit as I am very lazy, and usually nap after I eat my fill. In the daytime, I'm complacent, dozing between snacks, meals, and feedings. Do I eat between naps, or nap between meals? God that food smells heavenly, my salivary glands now fully awake.

I shift in my bed, gentle waves rippling across my belly like it's an immense factory-sized vat filled to overflowing with liquid jello. I prefer to stay in bed, it's just too inconvenient to go over to the kitchen table. That requires planning, hoists, and physical effort, not my thing.

It's much easier for me to just take it slow and let massive quantities of delicious food come to me rather than me go to it. Besides, I like being lazy, comfortable, and dependent. And my wife loves to see me content, sleeping off yet another big food binge dreaming of the sugar plum fairy bringing me fatty snacks. She's crazy about me and loves to spoil and pamper me. I'm like her huge growing baby, always hungry, always getting larger. I'm babbling a bit, I hope you understand that I am having trouble concentrating since I am so very hungry. And the scent of a big feast...big-feast...pig-feast is in the air.

Oh yes, the food! It's great to wake up and notice the telltale signs of an upcoming meal. What could be better? Breakfast, snacks, lunch, midnight snacks, sex snacks, dinners, suppers, third helpings, fourth...it's all good. That food whose smell just woke me up is ALL for me. Mine. All of it will soon be in my huge belly, where it belongs. Mmm-mmm. I am a proud and fleshy monument to decadence, born of years of enjoyment without limit. My feeder-wife Jane calls my belly the "Pleasure-Dome". It really is if you think about it.

Using the sheet, I wipe away some of the drool dripping down my chins. So I'd look sexy and presentable to my wife. Luckily I mostly accumulate new fat around my immense middle, so my large arms are still somewhat useful.

Usually my arms lie relaxed, sticking nearly straight out to my left and right, where they can reach the upper zones of the sides of my belly. I can reach my face easily, but not "down there." Whoops! Now there is more drool. I guess I have no will power when it comes to food.

I'm salivating enthusiastically now because I can hear the cart rolling down the hallway, and I'm getting more and more excited. I swallow the excess saliva. More soon arrives. My private parts are tingling too. Pleasure is coming, and soon. There is no way I can wipe up all the drool in time. Besides, there would be lots more anyway. Here comes my food. Now I can eat. It's almost here. Yeah!

The sound of the wheels rolling on the hallway's hardwood floor tells me that they are carrying a heavy load. I can hear the wheels catch on some of the floorboard joints with a dull thud. Man, that cart is really heavy, like me.

Oh yeah, come on...come on, I'm ready! I hear the plates clattering and my wife humming happily as she moves the big load toward it's destination. Me. The food is being drawn closer to me as if my belly had a gravitational force, like a black hole. Closer and closer the cart comes, it is SO hard to wait. I don't want to wait, I want to eat...right now. Of course, we are only talking about one minute here but like I said I am hungry. I am used to eating whatever I want, whenever I want, and as much as I want. I eat until I am completely full, satiated, and gorged. Rinse and repeat. I am accustomed to physical ecstasy.

As she enters the room we make eye contact. I love her dearly of course, but before you know it, my eyes are drawn to the cart like a moth to a candle flame, and hers to my belly. I shift a bit to display my soft bulk for her. That way she can appreciate the ebbs and flows of my belly as it resettles.

My feast is loaded, stacked, and jammed onto the approaching overloaded gluttony-enabling transport device. Come to Papa! No disrespect to my wife...but...that sure is a lot of great food and I am so very, very hungry. I deserve it!

Seeing it and smelling it has me as eager as a puppy with a new toy. She understands, and knows that I am not being unfaithful to her, or disrespectful, by looking at the food rather than into her eyes. She knows that it is "her" food soon to be converted into new fat after I enjoy eating it. It all smells so good! Favorite, after favorite, after favorite burdens that poor overworked cart.

Jane always knows just what I want! After all, she notices everything, and remembers later on as she plans meals, snacks, treats, and arranges food deliveries.

"He really drooled just now, I'll get him more of that steak next time...boy did he loved the thick, untrimmed white fat along the sides of the richly marbled meat" she might think..."I've got to remind the new butcher not to trim that off."

"He reached for those deep-fried apple pies, right past the cheesecake, even when he was almost full...that took some effort...he really must have wanted that pile of pies".

" I saw his nostrils flare as he inhaled the sweet, inviting aroma before that warm cream pie vanished into his busy, busy mouth - aha".

Where my eyes look first, which foods I seem to prefer at which times, in which orders, and with what mood. She was just like a conductor in front of a symphony orchestra. She *really* paid attention to anything she had to rush out to get more of despite her always bountiful portions and all the options, choices, and variations with which she tempted me. Of course running out was rare, thank God!

How could she do better next time was her thought process. She does not want me wanting, waiting, or worried. Sometimes she finds new things I might enjoy and she feels so happy when a potential new favorite is found. She doesn't miss a thing.

Once she caught my eye glancing at a turkey dinner food advertisement in the newspaper for maybe 1/2 second as she read the news sitting next to me. I mean..this was just a quick glance. The next thing I knew she had some of that for me to "test", a small 20# bird for lunch. It was terrific. This was from just a quick glance, but you see she is obsessed. So am I. Nothing gets past her. And everything goes into my incredible belly. It's well over 100 inches now, and that measurement was from a long time ago back before I was #1 in the world. The king if you will.

My eyes are now riveted to the food cart and I am drooling openly while licking my lips and rustling my fingers. I am in a state of excitement, anticipation, and pure lust. Again and very slowly I move side to side with desire and my belly mirrors this gentle motion like the slow waves of low tide. Jane's eyes track the gently sloshing fat. It's time to eat!!

All this while taking deep breaths through my nose to get a heads up on the endless pleasures awaiting my palate. Hmm I like that word, palate...my wife is also my "pal" and I like the word "ate" because it means I just gorged myself until I was nice and full. I live my life a platter of food at a time, happily enjoying myself, buried in fat and pure pleasure. Presentable? Ha, I am in frenzied food hunger agony and am now drooling like a rabid dog.
3 chapters, created 11 years
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Nept13 11 years
Great story!!!
Essjay 11 years
Glad you liked it. Now would you like regular or extra crispy? And yes I brought the gravy...