~FFA, Feeding, Stuffing
[Author's Note:]I started this new thing on my blog using Tumblr's "Ask Me" feature where people can ask me anything about feederism. Someone asked me if I'd ever had a stuffing "one night stand", and so I told this story about meeting my first feedee boy.
... For the record, even I have had several “traditional” one night stands. When I came to NYC for the first time, my roommate had a book called Working Stiff. I wasn’t very computer literate, and this was the first time I’d found a guide of sorts to posting ads on Craigslist.
"You mean there’s a way to get someone to fuck you whenever you want?" I thought. "I’m there."
72 hours later I was doing the 69 with a random dude in his apartment on the other side of town. I was elated afterwards, but he said he felt kinda “weird” about it and seemed to feel guilty he’d had sex with someone he didn’t know.
Now, a one night feeding… I’ve had one of those too, sort of. We’ll call him Hugo.
I met Hugo through a dating site for feederism peeps like me. He fit the criteria of not living on the other side of the country, spelling things correctly when he typed, and having a ginormous capacity for drinking soda.
I found this unbelievably erotic, and he was similarly stunned to find someone who lived so close to him. We made a date to meet at the closest well-lighted place—a Starbucks.
Would it surprise you if I told you he was gorgeous? I sat there with a hot chocolate I was too nervous to drink, looking around for someone that matched his description. (What if he’d lied and he was actually that 300 lb. wheelchair-bound dude over there? What if he showed me up?) But instead he was thin and tall and pretty, and after about two hours of talking he suggested we go get a pizza and a liter of soda. I was surprised he was ready—I didn’t know if I was ready.
I took him back to my house. I have my own room, and all but one of my housemates were gone, so no one noticed anything. He sat at my desk, drinking from a liter of soda, the pizza box open in front of him. I sat on my mattress on the floor, looking up at him, my legs spread under my skirt. Already, I could feel myself getting wet. Here was a cute boy eating exactly what I was telling him to, and would continue until he had stretched his belly out as far as it would go. In its own way, it was as much a feat as weightlifting or website coding, and that really, really excited me.
He noticed my arousal, because he said, “You said you liked to watch boys drinking, so—” and titled his head back and swallowed half the liter in long, liquid gulps. I spread my legs wider, pressing my pussy lips into the mattress.
Then there was a funny part: he started burping. It was only natural, since he’d drunk most of a liter of ginger ale and all the carbonation had to go somewhere. He turned a lovely pink color as he put his hand over his mouth, trying to get it to stop. “I’m not used to doing it… in front of someone,” he hiccupped. I was charmed by his feederism virginity, and I love putting boys on the spot. One of the most attractive things you can do for me is be embarrassed about something I think (or rather, we both think) is hot.
His tummy was already starting to bloat out nicely. It was already a little plump, with a small, soft roll, and a cute navel, but I could see it getting bigger under his shirt. He started in on the pizza, and I asked him if I could touch it, put my head in his lap. We’d discussed boundaries and he’d told me he didn’t want to have sex, but touching was ok. I told him I thought stuffing was sex—it certainly had the same effect on me.
"No penetration, then", he said. That inspired me to name a list of alternatives that didn’t involve penetration, but he didn’t come from a BDSM background and gave me a wide-eyed look.
So I solemnly promised, "No Biting", knelt beside him, and pressed my ear to his swollen belly.
I get excited by gastric noises. Maybe it’s because, as one feeder on FF put it, “it means the stuffing is working”. All the gurgles and purrings of a boy’s insides are familiar to me, and they work on my libido the same way it would if he moaned while I had two fingers in his ass. Hugo had warned me his tummy was particularly noisy. He started drinking again, and whenever he swallowed there’d be a kind of quosh as the liquid dropped down into his stomach, followed by a fizzing roar as the carbonation was stirred up once more. Since my ear was pressed to his belly this was as loud as a waterfall, and when I described the effect to him we were both very impressed.
By this time, Hugo’s feedee stomach was big and round. Stuffed almost to capacity, his belly had the most wonderful feel to it. It was like a tightly filled balloon covered in the most soft and delicate flesh imaginable, and feeling it made me unbelievably horny. His tummy was right there, and I wanted to get as close as possible to it. I rubbed my cheek against it, I kissed and nuzzled it and filled my mouth with his puffy flesh before I remembered No Biting.
“Sowwi,” I mumbled, my mouth full of tummy flesh.
“It’s ok,” he said, though he wasn’t really in a position to stop me if I did start biting.
“I’ll just nom on you,” I said, mouthing and licking his belly instead. I made little nom-nom sounds which seemed to amuse him. I was pretty wet by now, and he hadn’t even touched me between the legs.
And he never did. We ended that session without either of us having taken a stitch of clothing off, though he could no longer button his jacket over his bulging belly. It was adorable.
My First Feedee Boy
by Molly Ren
by Molly Ren
[Author's Note:]I started this new thing on my blog using Tumblr's "Ask Me" feature where people can ask me anything about feederism. Someone asked me if I'd ever had a stuffing "one night stand", and so I told this story about meeting my first feedee boy.
... For the record, even I have had several “traditional” one night stands. When I came to NYC for the first time, my roommate had a book called Working Stiff. I wasn’t very computer literate, and this was the first time I’d found a guide of sorts to posting ads on Craigslist.
"You mean there’s a way to get someone to fuck you whenever you want?" I thought. "I’m there."
72 hours later I was doing the 69 with a random dude in his apartment on the other side of town. I was elated afterwards, but he said he felt kinda “weird” about it and seemed to feel guilty he’d had sex with someone he didn’t know.
Now, a one night feeding… I’ve had one of those too, sort of. We’ll call him Hugo.
I met Hugo through a dating site for feederism peeps like me. He fit the criteria of not living on the other side of the country, spelling things correctly when he typed, and having a ginormous capacity for drinking soda.
I found this unbelievably erotic, and he was similarly stunned to find someone who lived so close to him. We made a date to meet at the closest well-lighted place—a Starbucks.
Would it surprise you if I told you he was gorgeous? I sat there with a hot chocolate I was too nervous to drink, looking around for someone that matched his description. (What if he’d lied and he was actually that 300 lb. wheelchair-bound dude over there? What if he showed me up?) But instead he was thin and tall and pretty, and after about two hours of talking he suggested we go get a pizza and a liter of soda. I was surprised he was ready—I didn’t know if I was ready.
I took him back to my house. I have my own room, and all but one of my housemates were gone, so no one noticed anything. He sat at my desk, drinking from a liter of soda, the pizza box open in front of him. I sat on my mattress on the floor, looking up at him, my legs spread under my skirt. Already, I could feel myself getting wet. Here was a cute boy eating exactly what I was telling him to, and would continue until he had stretched his belly out as far as it would go. In its own way, it was as much a feat as weightlifting or website coding, and that really, really excited me.
He noticed my arousal, because he said, “You said you liked to watch boys drinking, so—” and titled his head back and swallowed half the liter in long, liquid gulps. I spread my legs wider, pressing my pussy lips into the mattress.
Then there was a funny part: he started burping. It was only natural, since he’d drunk most of a liter of ginger ale and all the carbonation had to go somewhere. He turned a lovely pink color as he put his hand over his mouth, trying to get it to stop. “I’m not used to doing it… in front of someone,” he hiccupped. I was charmed by his feederism virginity, and I love putting boys on the spot. One of the most attractive things you can do for me is be embarrassed about something I think (or rather, we both think) is hot.
His tummy was already starting to bloat out nicely. It was already a little plump, with a small, soft roll, and a cute navel, but I could see it getting bigger under his shirt. He started in on the pizza, and I asked him if I could touch it, put my head in his lap. We’d discussed boundaries and he’d told me he didn’t want to have sex, but touching was ok. I told him I thought stuffing was sex—it certainly had the same effect on me.
"No penetration, then", he said. That inspired me to name a list of alternatives that didn’t involve penetration, but he didn’t come from a BDSM background and gave me a wide-eyed look.
So I solemnly promised, "No Biting", knelt beside him, and pressed my ear to his swollen belly.
I get excited by gastric noises. Maybe it’s because, as one feeder on FF put it, “it means the stuffing is working”. All the gurgles and purrings of a boy’s insides are familiar to me, and they work on my libido the same way it would if he moaned while I had two fingers in his ass. Hugo had warned me his tummy was particularly noisy. He started drinking again, and whenever he swallowed there’d be a kind of quosh as the liquid dropped down into his stomach, followed by a fizzing roar as the carbonation was stirred up once more. Since my ear was pressed to his belly this was as loud as a waterfall, and when I described the effect to him we were both very impressed.
By this time, Hugo’s feedee stomach was big and round. Stuffed almost to capacity, his belly had the most wonderful feel to it. It was like a tightly filled balloon covered in the most soft and delicate flesh imaginable, and feeling it made me unbelievably horny. His tummy was right there, and I wanted to get as close as possible to it. I rubbed my cheek against it, I kissed and nuzzled it and filled my mouth with his puffy flesh before I remembered No Biting.
“Sowwi,” I mumbled, my mouth full of tummy flesh.
“It’s ok,” he said, though he wasn’t really in a position to stop me if I did start biting.
“I’ll just nom on you,” I said, mouthing and licking his belly instead. I made little nom-nom sounds which seemed to amuse him. I was pretty wet by now, and he hadn’t even touched me between the legs.
And he never did. We ended that session without either of us having taken a stitch of clothing off, though he could no longer button his jacket over his bulging belly. It was adorable.
