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After I gave my KFADC talk on Feederism, Jack Stratton was curious to know more about how feederism people had sex. I know I don’t want to move after a big meal, he said, so I’d be curious as to how you circumvent that.

Well, I said, in a lot of ways that is the sex. But there are lots of other things you can do when you’re into feederism besides stuffing your partner ‘til they can’t move. Sometimes, they don’t even have to be a feedee at all, like my local fuckbuddy, DC Boy. Enjoy!

When we’re not together, DC Boy and I talk almost exclusively by text. I have a love/hate relationship with this method of communication because, on one hand, I often end up typing 25 text messages when a simple phone call would do. On the other, it means I can discuss anal sex with him in the middle of a subway platform without anyone else knowing what we’re up to.

This time we were particularly eager, since it would be the first time we’d fucked since my NYC adventure. He was anxious to hear all about it—especially me being with another girl. But this time I had a special request. Would you let me feed you ice cream? I typed, and waited. 

Hm, he wrote back, I like ice cream. :D

DC Boy isn’t the first partner I’ve told about my feederism fetish. He was just the first one who already knew what it was. His nonchalant answer of “Oh, I know what that is,” had given me hope that I could eventually introduce a little feeder play into our sex. We’ll make it fun, I promised. I’ll feed you ice cream, then suck your dick.

Then time passed. As much as I love to brag on Twitter about the great chemistry the two of us have when we get into bed together, we actually don’t meet up that often. So the next time we were together I figured he had forgotten, and didn’t press the issue. 

Not like it wasn’t awesome, of course. We played in all the usual ways, biting and ass fucking and pinning each other down, then took a breather so we could walk down the street to check on his neighbor’s cats, whom he was cat sitting. On the way back we went to Johnny Rocket’s, where we talked about Hume over burgers and fries. 

When we got back to his apartment he turned to me and said, Want to order me some ice cream?

I was as pleased as I was shocked. He told me that there was a local business that would send you ice cream and condoms if you asked. This sounded too good to be true!

It was entirely real, he reassured me, and got on his computer to show me. I snuggled up behind him, feeling up his tummy through his shirt as he scrolled through pages and pages of different ice cream flavors, choosing his favorite to be sent to our door within the hour. I was wondering how he’d be able to eat any of it so soon after dinner, since both of us were feeling a little stuffed, and as intensely delighted as a femdom whose sub had shown up with his own bag of clothespins.

"Still horny?" he asked when he was finished, getting up and unzipping his pants. I sucked on his dick, but after a few moments realized that wasn’t going to be enough. "Sorry," I said, and licked and kissed his tummy instead, working his dick with my hand. That’s how much I like boy tummy, people. Offer it to me, and suddenly your penis will become secondary.

He didn’t seem to mind, tho. We stripped off our clothes and began another round of sucking, snuggling, and humping each other until the doorbell rang, when he had to throw on his pants to get the ice cream, putting it in the freezer for later. Then he came back to me, stripping off his pants as he went. He paused for a moment and sucked his tummy in, belched, let it out again. 

"You okay?" I said to cover my intense arousal. 

"I’m all right", he said as he got back into bed, his tummy was just too full. I spooned him from behind, squeezing his tummy in my hands. I said something, and he asked me to repeat myself.

"Poor stuffer boy," I cooed against his back. "Poor ‘lil feedee." 

I was so excited that he was letting me touch him just the way I liked—and so worried he’d be weirded out—I could hardly say the words.

In retrospect this was really dumb. The boy just ordered ice cream for the express purpose of me feeding it to him, and I’m worried about how he will react to my feederism pillowtalk? But I’m never sure how far to go with this thing, when I will overstep a boundary and tolerance will turn into confusion—or worse, a big loss of boner. Telling someone you like an unusual part of their body is one thing and telling them you’re going a little wild over the thought of them gaining five pounds is another, so I toned down my raging torrents of arousal into tiny, simple comments. 

"It’s rounder than usual," I said, palming his plump belly with one hand. 

"That’s because it’s really full," he said, and rolled over onto his back. I continued rubbing his tummy in circles. I told him how I liked how soft his tummy was, in contrast to his sharp hip bones, and he laughed a little and said, "Thank you."

DC Boy isn’t actually a feedee, though I like pretending he is. He’s told me food and sex are a combination that arouses him not at all, but nevertheless he has a great body for it. He’s “delicate”, with slender limbs and a great ass, but he’s also not “ripped”. The only weight he carries is in his tummy, and damn, that boy’s tummy is adorable. It’s just enough for me to hold when we spoon, delightfully soft, and has just enough hair to make a sweet happy trail. He even let me bite him on the tummy later, two marks at angles to his navel, and it seemed to hurt more than anywhere else I bit him on his body that night. 

But that was later. Right now, just getting to grope his tummy and him being ok with it was enough to drive me absolutely nuts. ”I’m really horny,” I told him, in case he hadn’t figured it out yet from the way I was humping his thigh.

"Oh God," he said, touching my dripping pussy. He got on top of me and everything fit together just right, the skin above his dick pressing against my clit, the inner muscles of my vagina just tight enough that it made a ring of pleasure that he pulled in and out of. It was only a minute or two before he came. 

He leaned back, panting and pleased. “Sorry,” he said, “I just couldn’t hold it…”

I laughed since he’d never come so quickly before. “No, it was great,” I told him, “for the two seconds it lasted!” 

In the end we never did feed him the ice cream. But that was all right, since I didn’t want to give him a tummy ache, and we were both pretty much exhausted from all the sex we’d been having earlier. Instead, we spooned again. He drew his tummy in a little so I could get a hand under it better, and then we fell asleep like that. 

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