exhibitionism Open Wide

[clownshower]

PART 1 - “EMERGENCY COOKIES”

I’m a skinny man. I watch what I eat. Seems like I’m watching what you eat too. 

Silly me, I over order for myself when we go out for dates. Sitting at a nice restaurant I picked out. You in a dress I picked out and me in a fine fitted suit. 

Your dress must have shrunk in the wash? What? The tag was still one when i picked it out? Surely, you must be mistaken. Figments of your imagination. You were this size last month.

I order for you and myself. Large portions for you and same portions for myself. I have no intention finishing my food. I eat like a bird, How else am I to stay this skinny? You, my dear, are responsible for finishing your plate...and mine. 

You haven’t noticed that when i make our meals at home, your portions have slowly increased in size. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach. Your stomach, however, is ever growing. 

You hardly notice the changes creep up on you. Happy to not get up again for more food, you greedily finish my food off for me. 

But tonight at this fancy restaurant, you’re gonna pig out because I said so. Two appetizers. Two large plates. Two desserts. All with wine to help wash it all down. 

Your dress tears as I lead you, a waddling blob, across the restaurant towards the door. The seams gave up on life as you stuffed your ever large face with more nourishment. 

The remaining fragments of your dress fall to the floor. Your face blushes. My pants tighten. Most restaurant patrons look away in embarrassment. But not all the patrons...

Few stare in amazement. Like a reflex, i pull emergency cookies out of my pockets and feed it to your face. You eat with from my hand obediently. 

We leave the dress behind. Valet pulls the car up. As they exit the car, their jaws hit the floor. guess they never seen a feedee as lovely as you. 

I pull out more snacks from the glove compartment. There is never a minute where your mouth doesn’t have a snack in it. Still, you believe you’re still your original smaller size. Surely this was just bloating. Sure, dear. think that as i take you home for your second dinner. 

Silly me, I didn’t finish plate. Guess I wasn’t hungry after all. I don’t have much of an appetite for food but i do have an appetite for you. You’ll be my dessert after I stuff you to the brim. Open Wide. 

Delicious.

[clownshower]

PART 2 - “THE DRIVE THROUGH”

Public stuffing at the restaurant accomplished. 

What a lovely dinner for a skinny feeder and a pretty feedee over twice his size. Your feedee sits in the passenger seat like a mindless bovine. A well behaved pampered submissive feedee who does as she is told. You take good care of her after all so why should she worry about a thing? 

She rubs her beyond round belly pushing against her “little black dress”. Her recent weight gains from these buffets has made this dress littler and littler with every session. She kept saying she is so full but now finally she admits the dress is tight on her. 

With your strong capable hands, you rip a hole in the dress in the midsection to free the bulging belly bursting out of the seams. You can always buy another dress. Buy a new dress to grow into or a smaller one to tease her in? Why not both? 

You say, “and they say black is a slimming color”. You poke into the fleshy rolls of fat being contained by this blob of a woman. Seems like she can put away more. She may not believe it but you believe in her. Cows have four stomachs after all. 

You drive your heifer through the drive through of McDonald’s. You order for her and only her. You’re skinny and watching your figure. You hike, do yoga, and weight lift. This order can’t be for you. It’s all for the obedient farm animal in the passenger you’re cultivating. 

2 Large McDonald’s chocolate shakes will be her dessert. As you pay at the first window, the skinny black haired young McDonald’s clerk notices your whole lot of woman in the passenger seat. You proudly smile and they politely smile at the sight. 

At the second window, a clone of the first window employee with brown hair hands you the two milkshakes. She says “Enjoy!”. You reply, “Oh it’s not for me. It’s for the lucky lady. Don’t want her starving to death now!”. 

The brown hair McDonald’s employee looks over at the lucky lady in the passenger. The belly exposed, tight “little” black dress wearing, double chin chinning, mind addled feedee lets out an accidental burp. How lady like. 

The burp reverberates through the McDonald’s kitchen. The abrupt noise forces all the employees to stop and check that an earthquake didn’t just happen. 

Nope, no earthquake. Just a fat ass making room for dessert. 

Good feedee.