On Becoming A Feedee.
Hi- my name is Donna Carol. This story is about me and my boyfriend Pete. I am 51 years old and I guess, I am a little older than most people who write on hear. Here is my story.
I did not have the best childhood growing up. I will not get into it except to say that it seemed like there were a lot of restrictions of things that I could do. I remember having very little fun as a child. As long as I could remember I wanted to get out of my house bad. So at 16 I left and got a waitressing. I met a guy and we were married right after my 18th birthday. we were happy for awhile but things began to go bad. He was abusive and insulting and hooked up with other women. By 20 I had had enough and I walked out on him. Little did I know that for over 25 years I would not find another man I wanted to be with, though I didn't exactly try to find someone. I worked as a server for all those years and lived ok. I had become accustomed to a single life and thought that's how it was just gonna be for me. I kept myself fit, walked and thought I had a pretty good life. I am 5'4" and, then weighed around 110lbs. But I came to realize that things happen when you least expect it. One day, back in the beginning of 2008 I was shopping and a man started talking to me. Before I knew it we were talking about everything and anything. it seemed so easy to talk with him. He was a gentleman and actually seemed interested in what I had to say. So we agreed to see each other again. My life changed for the better, so much better after this meeting.
Pete and me started seeing each other regularly. He noticed when we would go out to dinner or when he would cook (he was and is a great cook) that I ate very little, though I always seemed to want more. He said it was ok to eat as much as I wanted as eating was one of the great pleasures in life. I didn't for awhile, but I found myself more and more attracted to his good looks but more so, his welcoming personality and kind words and kind smile. I began falling in love with him. He treated me like a princess and that had never happened before. It didn't take long for us to be around each other all the time and even a shorter time for him to convince me to give up my apartment and move in with him. I did in the summer of '08. it was the best decision I ever made.
As Isaid, he was a good cook and he preferred to cook for me instead of going out. He loved baking and cooking different kinds of pastas and sauces. Gradually I allowed myself to eat more than I usually did and I began to enjoy it, though after two months of such indulgences, I weighed 130lbs. I had never been that "fat." I know that some of you will laugh at that but that is how I felt. I got nervous and scared, but Pete told me just to relax and enjoy myself. He loved to cook for me and watching me enjoy his food made him feel good. Without getting in details our sex life seemed to be getting better. He began paying more attention to me and I physically felt more sexual and turned on. I did not know why.
In September, '08 I got a form of Hepatitis that wasn't very serious. It just made me extremely tired. The doc said that the only way to get rid of this illness was complete and total bed rest. I was upset because I did not want to be come a burden on Pete. He had already done so much for me. When I told him he said, "nonsense- you a burden?" He proceeded to undress me, put me in bed, prop up my pillows and take care of me. Each time I offered to help him he told me that it would upset him greatly if I did that and he enjoyed taking care of me. I must say he was so insistent that I did not fight him anymore. AFter a few days, I let myself just enjoy being fed ad taken care of. And feed me he. After some mild protests on my part, I finally gave in to all his delicious pastas, cream sauces, cheesecakes, fudge cakes, pies, elcairs, cookies, homemade fudge and pastries. I would get tired easily but he insisted on having me eat something first. When I did, I finally fell asleep.
I didn't get rid of the hepatitis until near Thanksgiving of '08.That was nearly 11 weeks. I knew i had gained weight because i could feela difference in my body and I could also see it. Pete never said anything except to tell me how good I looked and how much he had fallen in love with me. I got on the scale and to my utter shock I had gained between 1 and a half to 2 pounds a day while in bed. I had gone from 130 to 245lbs. I was a blimp. My boobs were huge where before I could hardly see them. My nipples were always erect and all Pete had to do was blow on them and I would go crazy. Our lovemaking increased in frequency and passiion. I was in heaven. I still was upset about how fat I had become(that is still such a strange word for me to use). But to my amazement I didn't seem to care. I guess you know what I am gonna say next- my belly jiggled (which drove Pete crazy which put a big smile on his face) My thighs measured more than my waist when I was 110lbs. I had grown several more chins. It was clear, I was fat, actually obese, but the most amazing thing is that I DIDN'T CARE."
Fast forward to today. Pete and I are married. He works at home and we are so much in love it is hard to believe. I have grown to 465lbs and stay in bed most of the day, sleeping, eating, reading and watching TV. I still think that one day Pete is gonna get mad at me for not helping around the house but he says that I am sexier to him at this size than he could ever imagine. When I sit up, my belly hangs over my knees. My arms jiggle and I have stretch marks all over my body. I body looks like a big bowl of cottage cheese. I actually have creases between all my fat rolls and you know something- I LOVE IT! Yes I love it. The only thing that I am deciding now is whether to allow myself to become immobile. I am nearly there anyway. Pete is encouraging me to do that.
I am telling you my story so I could get feedback, mostly from you girls and ladies who feel the same way or don't. Guys, you can answer if you like, but I really want the ladies to let me know what they think. I hope you enjoyed my story