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Literature
Girlfriend Stuffing
Kayleigh, my girlfriend has the same fetish as me; bellies. She's more of a feeder than a feedee, although there are rare exceptions, this being the greatest one:
It happened about 2 weeks ago, I was cooking, my girlfriend usually cooks so whenever I cook I always make something we both love. Although I wanted to find something out: the limit of my girlfriend. I was cooking one of her favourite foods, spaghetti. I had made sure she barely ate that day so she was as hungry as possible. I cooked an entire medium to large size pan of spaghetti (one that could satify the hunger of a family of four.)
I put it on the table and told her that it wa
Literature
Stuffed surprise
“Ohhhh…*ulp!* whuuuhhhhh…” I dropped my bag on the floor and paused. Was I hearing what I thought I was hearing? I didn’t usually hear that outside of...I blushed and bit my lip. “B-babe...is that you?” My boyfriend called out from the direction of the living room. I could hear the faint sounds of television in the background. His voice sounded strange, strained. I moved his direction after yanking my key out of the lock. “Yeah, it’s me!” I called, hurrying to reassure him. As I passed through the arch into the living room, I caught my dropping jaw. My cheeks burned at the sight that met my eyes. He lay stretched out on the couch. His shirt was pulled up, exposing his pale, round belly, rounder even than usual right now. His breath was heavy and stuttering. The coffee table was a mess of takeout containers and wrappers. His laptop was playing Hulu, which he seemed to be ignoring. As I entered the room, he let out a low, rumbling belch and clapped a hand to his mouth. Now he was the
Literature
A Little Too Full
(Contains: stuffed belly rubs, burps, references to weight gain) Quentin eases himself onto the bed, letting out a slow, measured breath between his teeth. His hands are settled gingerly over his distended stomach, not daring to apply even a slight amount of pressure. Behind his tinted lenses, he’s doing his best to mask a wince, not wanting you to see physical proof that he knew he’d overdone it. You’re not so easily fooled. “QQ,” you croon, settled on your knees beside him. There’s a hint of a wry smile on your lips; there’s something you’ve always loved about his tough-guy act, and watching it extend even to something as petty as covering up a stomachache was just the kind of behavior you expected from your boyfriend. Before you can say another word, he shoots you a scowl. “Don’t fucking say anything,” he grumbles, laying back slowly against the pillows. The movement causes the hem of his shirt to rise, revealing a sliver of taut, pale skin. You also see what’s likely the cause
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I was a little frustrated by existing literotica on burp and feederism fetish stories, so I wrote exactly what I wanted to read. Some of this is based on experiences with my fiance who shares my feederism fantasy. I intentionally avoided any names or clear descriptions so you can imagine what/who you want. This story is a little weird, so if you don't like these fetishes then don't read it.
The story contains: Burping, Farting, Feeding (implied), and even explicit sex.
Please read this through, as I took a lot of care in writing and feel that there is virtually no "filler" to skip through and everything directly builds the fantasy.
The story contains: Burping, Farting, Feeding (implied), and even explicit sex.
Please read this through, as I took a lot of care in writing and feel that there is virtually no "filler" to skip through and everything directly builds the fantasy.
Mature
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Love this! Spectacular