Part 1, Brett at Home

Part 1, Brett at Home

Published by Ktm645 · 2011-08-27T19:22:59+0000

"I'm still hungry!" My giant of a boyfriend, Brett, bellowed as he shoveled down another burger. At 6'4, he was still almost as tall as me while sitting down. I watched as he slobbered on all his food and barely even took time to chew. His appetite was so insatiable, I couldn't believe it. He could go on eating for hours and just keep piling it in.
"Big boys gotta eat," He'd say in his deep, booming baritone. In this aspect, he must've been right, because I've never seen someone else eat like him--and he was certainly big.
He sat atop a 65'' midsection, but he wasn't really fat. He had huge muscles, so his arms and pecs looked husky instead of droopy. But his stomach was simply huge! If his mouth were big enough, he could probably fit me in there!
He let out a loud, deep belch and said "I said I'm still hungry!" He'd already eaten a large pepperoni pizza, 3 1 lb. burgers, 4 hot dogs and a huge bowl of pasta salad. There were still 2 burgers and 5 hot dogs left on the table, but him and I both knew they'd be gone within minutes.
"Hang on, the chickens are almost done!"
"Well hurry it up! I'm hungry as fuck!"
I loved it when he got agitated from his everlasting hunger. I just hoped he wouldn't get too angry, so I urged the chickens to be done soon so I could watch him devour them without any problems.
One of my favorite things to do was to rub his giant stomach as he ate. You could actually feel it rumble with hunger and expand with all the food I cooked him. Right now he was wearing a tight green shirt that didn't even pretend to cover his body. Half of his stomach and love handles were spilling out of the shirt and sitting complacently on his thighs. He had a thick happy trail and lots of hair all over his belly and chest. In all honesty, he was practically a grizzly bear.
Then, all of a sudden, I look over and he's finished with the food on the table, but he's looking around for the chickens that should've been done. With surprising speed, he stands up and shoves me into the wall, grabbing me by my shoulders.
"Why isn't my food ready?" He asks angrily.
"I--I don't know, I put the chickens at the same time as yesterday, please don't--"
He lets loose a wet, rumbling, stinky belch in my face. "I'm hungry. That means, my food should be here when I want it!" He pushed me into the wall again for emphasis. I was really scared, but at the same time so turned on. Since his jeans were so form fitting, I could see his huge dick lying to one side, forming a nice package. It looked like he was semi-hard at 8 inches. So I guess he was turned on too, then.
I could feel his huge hairy beast of a belly on top of my measly muffin top, and his heavy breathing as he waited for an answer. "I'll check on them now, but I'm not sure if they're ready. Just let me go, please."
He wiped his mouth with his hairy knuckles, then proceeded to lick the food debris off of them. "I don't care. Just take them out and I'll eat them." So I took them out of the oven, and placed them on the table. Before I knew it, he was digging into them with his fingers, tearing them limb from limb. Three extra large chickens from the supermarket, all for him. I'd get scraps if I was lucky. And even if they were slightly raw, his stomach could handle it--I wouldn't be surprised if he could handle eating steel.
Slurping up the first of chickens and belching again to make some more room, he started digging into the second one. He was getting the bones and other pieces of it everywhere, all over his shirt and stomach and face. He was so ravenous, he just didn't care about making a mess. I started another batch of pasta salad and order two more pizzas before he finished all three chickens.
I left the kitchen/dining room for a moment to go clean up the bedroom. I hoped it would take him some time to finish the chickens, but I should've known better. Big boys gotta eat, after all. So when he pushed me onto the bed and tore my sweatpants off my legs, I wasn't really prepared.
"You think it's okay to make me wait for my food? Huh?" Now he was on top of me and my legs were being pulled up on to his shoulders. I could hear him unzipping his pants, and could've sworn I heard his now 10 inch, meaty cock plop out too. "I'll teach you to make me wait." And so, with no warning, he shoved all of his manhood into me, making me yelp with pain and delight. He started thrusting in and out, not even bothering to start slowly. All he wanted was pleasure, and I was happy to give it to him.
As he was fucking me, he leaned down and belched into my face, then smiled a bit menacingly because he knew it must've smelled bad. But I loved it. It was what his stomach smelled like. Speaking of which, it was pressed against my cock, going up and down with his body, jiggling each time he thrusted in.
Eventually, with a loud moan, he shot his load right in me and I shot mine. At that moment we looked into each others eyes, and no matter how badly he treated me, I knew he loved me. Because I knew that he knew I loved when he treated me like his bitch, like all he needed me for was food.
The doorbell rang. "Perfect timing!" He exclaimed excitedly. Getting himself together into only underwear, he stomped to the front door and opened it, only to snatch the pizzas out of the guy's hands. I caught up to see the guy impossibly frightened by Brett, stunned. It didn't help that Brett immediately started slurping the pizza up with no hands, piece by piece. I think that maybe his gullet had adapted to the amount of food he eats, so that he could just swallow food without really chewing it.
"Th--that'll be 25 bucks, s-sir." The pizza guy stammered. I pulled out my wallet and handed him the money, keeping it very cool. The guy practically ran away from the door. I mean, unless you're attracted to him, Brett could be a really scary guy.
Belching really deeply and loudly, Brett looks up at me with eyes that say "We better have more food. Or next time, it won't be sex that I hurt you with." So I scurry into the kitchen and dig through the fridge for anything he'll eat--which is everything, if I left him to his own devices. I'm just glad he's actually followed our agreement thus far--only eat things that I cook for him. Or else, there'd literally be nothing left for me.
Our fridge was always full, I kept it that way. This way, in case we ran out of things to cook or order, I could scrounge up something out of we had. So I started making ham sandwiches, each one with three layers of ham, provolone, lettuce and tomato. I made ten altogether by the time Brett was done with his pizzas. I also took the pasta salad I made earlier out of the fridge so he could eat that as well.
When Brett sauntered into the kitchen doorway, his eyes lit up at the number of sandwiches and extra large bowl of pasta salad lying in wait for him on the table. He licked his lips and pushed me out of the way as he sat down to start his next meal.
In between bites, he'd primally grunt and belch and moan from the taste of it, and how satisfying it was for him to feel it fill his stomach. He was really the sexiest man alive for me.
Instead of using utensils for the pasta, he just took the bowl up with his hands and ate with his face. After about 2 minutes, this bowl the size of my torso was emptied and all the pasta was in his belly. To get all of it out, he held it upside down over himself. I watched as his adams apple went up and down as he swallowed all of the food.
"Thirsty," He garbled while eating his seventh sandwich. I grabbed a 2 liter bottle of coke and placed it down in front of him on the table. My favorite part of his neverending meal would be coming soon. Dessert.
He guzzled down the 2 liters with no problem, and then paused. He then opened his mouth and let loose by far his loudest, longest, deepest burp of the night. I swear I felt the floor shake. "Aaaah..." he sighed. "Now for dessert!"
I knew this was coming, and so I opened the fridge to pull out two chocolate cakes, three boxes of soft cookies, a tray of cupcakes, and a plate spilling with Boston creme donuts.
I could tell dessert was his favorite as well, because he tore open a box of cookies, and literally poured all 20 of them into his mouth. I knew he could fit that much into his stomach, but not his mouth! He was just full of surprises. In any case, he chewed for all of 7 seconds, and then swallowed loudly. Again, he belched and then threw the empty case on the ground, grabbing at three donuts and shoving those into his mouth at once.
From the corner of my eye, I could see that his cock was once again growing in his pants. Without words, I got underneath the table, and released his dick. It was huge, meaty, and veiny and just begging to be sucked. So as he ate like a hungry lion, I sucked his huge cock. I loved when I got to the base and my face got smothered in his hairy belly. Honestly, I couldn't get to the base because his stomach was so giant, but I don't think either of us minded.
After he came while halfway through his second cake, I reached up a bit and felt his fat stomach pulsating and growing with pastries. I put my ear up to it and could hear all the food being digested. They sounded kind of like mini earthquakes.
He polished off the last of the donuts and cake and immediately got started on the cupcakes. I stood up from underneath the table to see him leaning over the table, not even using his hands anymore. He just shoved his face down to the tray, bit down on a cupcake, and used his tongue to dig it out of it's cupcake mold. Maybe he was more like a pig, who knows. All I know is that it was incredibly hot.
After all was said and done, that night, he had eaten three pizzas, five burgers, nine hot dogs, two oversized bowls of pasta salad, three whole chickens, ten three layered ham sandwiches, 60 cookies, two cakes, and a huge amount of cupcakes and donuts. Now he was finally satiated.
He sat in his chair, leaning back and almost breaking it. His huge bulge was especially prominent now. He sighed and closed his eyes while licking the icing off his lips, saying "Big boys gotta eat..." As he fell asleep.
Thank the heavens I was rich, because I could never afford to keep this beast fed otherwise. Another day, another feast. I said to myself as I went to bed, happy with my work for the evening.


Part 2, The Buffet, will be coming soon!