Chapter 1

I never knew what the terms “feeder” or “feedee” meant when I first met Gary. Some friends of mine set me up on a blind date with this great guy – a stockbroker who lived in Manhattan and was originally from Montana. We had emailed each other and exchanged pictures before our initial meeting. He was handsome with his dark, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, and a stocky but solid chest.

After years of yo-yo dieting, I was five foot six and a very slender 134 pounds. I decided on a plain pencil skirt to make the most of my figure, a red sweater, and black stockings with 3 inch pumps. I was told he was just over 6 feet tall, so I thought I could use the height so we could see eye to eye.

It was a chilly fall day so I donned a black jacket and took the subway uptown to the American Museum of Natural History. I walked through the throngs of people and made my way to the statue of Teddy Roosevelt where we were to meet. I had arrived early but after waiting ten minutes and turning round and round, I started to lose faith.

“Liz?” I heard a deep voice call behind me.

I turned on my heel and saw Gary just as handsome as his picture except a much larger version of him. I only saw his head and chest in the picture he emailed me. But, below his chest he ballooned outward – a big belly and butt with massive, well-built legs. I shyly shook his hand. I had never gone out with anyone his size before. Truthfully, I was a bit shocked. But, I quickly disarmed by Gary’s charming personality and smart, quick wit.

When I thought of my reaction later, I was deeply embarrassed. Hadn’t my ex-husband years before walked out on me because I had gained what he thought was a tremendous amount of weight after the birth of our child? Actually, there were other reasons we split, but it all boiled down to the fact that in his viewpoint he no longer had the model perfect wife he could brag about to the guys in the office. I started out as Twiggy and quickly transformed into a woman in a Botticelli painting. I had become ugly in his eyes when I hit 190 pounds. It took a few years after the divorce before I lost the weight I wanted, plus more. Now, I was almost waifish – unhealthy for my frame. My ex-husband apparently always looked at the wrapping, but not what was inside the package. I was truly ashamed that I almost treated Gary in the same fashion.

Gary showed me the museum and then we sat and talked for what seemed like hours at a local café. I was totally blown away by his intelligence and his sensitivity. After that evening, we went out several times that week and that marked the beginning of our whirl wind affair.

We met as often as we could both get away from the daily grind. As you could imagine, food was often central to our dates. I didn’t think anything odd in that since it is with most dates and we were both coming from work most days. He wined and dined me through many of the trendier restaurants in Manhattan.

Gary was able to ingest a great amount of food, which his nearly 400 pound frame could attest to. He did work out several times a week lifting weights or boxing, but always found the time to knock down a half dozen hotdogs with the works at a sitting. I adored food and ate with gusto when I was with him (although there was always that little voice in my head that screamed NO, you’ll get fat). But, I loved and adored Gary’s fat belly. I soon fell in love with every bulge and crease. I enjoyed having him on top of me and pressing his great weight against me. I also loved being on top straddling his great Buddha belly as we made love for hours. I just loved the feel of him and couldn’t get enough of him.

I had no idea yet that Gary was a feeder. But, I guess I should have suspected. He was subtle – I think not to scare me away. I began to notice little things like him feeding me strawberries with whipped cream when we cuddled up in front of the TV. He was a great cook and would always cook tremendous breakfasts when I stayed over insisting in a playful way that I should clean my plate. He always teased that I should put a little more meat on my bones. He was afraid to squash me. Those things by themselves would normally mean nothing since our society revolves around food, but in my nativity, I overlooked his intensity.