"A Valentine's Day to Remember" continues where "My First Experience as a Feedee" and "Denial" end off.  As I reread this story now, it brings me back to picnics in Central Park with Shawn and our many feeding sessions at his apartment in Manhattan.  But, the club, The Victorian Lounge" although an actual restaurant in Queens many years ago, was not a "feeder-feedee" club as it was depicted in my story.  But, wouldn't it have been wonderful if a place like this truly existed.

A Valentine's Day to Remember

“Oh, come new. You can eat a little more, can’t you?” Gary answered. “Here,” he said taking two large pieces between his fingers, “Let me help you.”

Gary and I had been going out for several months now. We did everything together including eating. Gary had already put 15 pounds on his 400 pound frame. I had put on almost twenty. I had come to the decision last month to allow Gary to help me gain weight and when I finally got myself going, I was relentless. Every morsel Gary offered me I accepted without complaint. Gary looked on in delight as my belly grew plump. It strained my tight jeans for some time, until they would pop open. Gary tried to keep me full at all times. During some of Gary’s firm encouragement sessions, I felt like I was being blown up like a balloon and my weight continued to blossom.
Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. I purchased a few small gifts for Gary – his favorite movie, Shakespeare in Love, a Karma Sutra book, a box huge box of peanut brittle, and tickets to the opera he wanted to see so badly. I figured I would make an extra special meal of all of his favorite foods and feed him for once. I knew he got excited when he worked on me, encouraging me to eat until I was almost bursting, stretching my capacity for eating. But I was also aware that he got sexually stimulated every time I would feed him.
But, that wasn’t going to happen yet. He had come up with his own plans to pleasure me further. And it was all going to take place on February 14th.
Bright and early, Gary woke me to a romantic breakfast in bed. Soft music played in the background as he propped me up on a bunch of fluffy pillows and fed me chocolate covered strawberries – one scrumptious one after another. This was followed with a steamy mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows, chocolate croissants, an incredibly large stack of hotcakes, and a ½ pound box of Godiva chocolate.
It was such a treat to be able to just lay back and have all of my needs attended to. I chewed each piece of chocolate thoughtfully, paying attention to each unique flavor and texture – heaven. The hot chocolate was frothy and not too sweet. Next was the beginning of the stack of buttery hotcakes dripping with maple syrup. The hotcakes quickly played havoc on my figure – before I was half way I was so bloated and so full – so much further to go.
“I’ll be devastated if you don’t finish every crumb,” Gary said.
“But, I’m already so full,” I replied.
“Oh, come new. You can eat a little more, can’t you?” Gary answered. “Here,” he said taking two large pieces between his fingers, “Let me help you.”
He slid the pieces almost seductively between my lips, sucking the sweet syrup from his fingers. “Mmmm,” I moaned.
“Here, take some more…and more…more…heaven, you can’t be full yet…here’s some chocolate croissant…try some sausage and bacon…more hot chocolate to wash it all down…” he encouraged.
I concentrated on chewing, swallowing, and keeping up with the amount of food being pushed into my mouth. This must have gone on for over an hour although it seemed longer at the time. My belly was swelling, fattening in response the large portions of starches and fats. My midsection took on the form of a small basketball. As I forged ahead, I thought about stopping, but I didn’t want to disappoint Gary who had gone to so much trouble and honestly – the meal was just so delicious.
So, on and on I went and expanded my figure. Gary massaged my inflating gut and the more he rubbed, the more I ate.
“Come, my dear,” he continued. “More croissants - you only have 8 more to go…oh, your hotcakes look dry, let me pour more syrup over them, they’ll go down quicker…you’re doing so well, look at you swell…you’re making me so hot, baby…more sausage…”
Finally my plate was clean of every crumb. My gut bowled out into a tight, rounder ball. I belched rubbing my overfed belly. He didn’t stop massaging me for until a long time afterward. When I was allowed to stand, I had to be helped. I put on my jeans…didn’t even come close to fitting over my bulbous middle. I took the size 14 low cut jeans and zipped them up…size 8 seemed to be such a long time ago.
Downstairs in the lobby, Gary hailed a cab and it took us to Central Park. He had arranged for a horse and carriage ride through the park. It was a brisk and somewhat chilly morning. We snuggled under a big, scratchy blanket in the carriage and took in the sights. I nuzzled up close to him, my arms not able to reach around his giant, soft belly.
As soon as we were on our way, I felt his fingers pulling and kneading my belly, working their way down to rub between my legs. I leaned into him, trying to remain motionless except for the bouncing of the carriage…not to give away what was being done to me. I bit my lip, stifling a moan as I was coming closer to an orgasm. But, then he stopped, not letting me come. The rest of the ride he held me close, his hand softly gyrating my belly fat.

Some time later, we stopped by a deli near the park. I was surprised to see him come out with a large picnic basket.
“I arranged this just for you,” he said, pulling out a large wool blanket.
“But, Gary, it’s a little chilly today for a picnic,” I replied.
“Nonsense, besides what do you think this blanket is for,” he countered.
He spread the blanket out and set out our lunch. He dug in with gusto to the finger sandwiches: chicken - tarragon salad and turkey with cranberries and pecans, the icy cold white Belgium ale which he poured into a champagne glass with orange slices. There were grapes and brie cheese and to finish the meal, there was bread pudding cut into chunks with apricot and vanilla sauce flavored with nutmeg and cinnamon.
He had me recline on his knee, my head in his lap.
“I want people to see you grow…I want people to know that you’re growing for me,” he murmured in my ear, as he feed me grapes one after another.
Gary again began to massage my belly under the blanket just as the pressure rose from being overfed again so soon. My tummy was beginning to distend and his hand felt so good. I ate it all…my belly bulging out even larger, my skin stretching almost as tight as a drum. But when I thought I had reached my bursting point, my skin gave some more and even more beyond that. I felt as though I would burst when Gary announced that we were done.
My abdomen now bulged out, looking to the entire world like I was several months pregnant. I watched in horrified fascination, as it bulged out even larger – massive as I struggled to sit upright. He helped me to my feet and packed up the lunch. Then came the terribly long trek through the park toward the street and the comfortable backseat of a cab.
I panted from the exertion of the short walk. My belly was a rigid sphere, a small agony each step I took. My fingers grasped my inflated middle, holding it steady. When my shoe came untied, Gary gladly bent – with difficulty since he had to get around his own belly – to tie my shoe.
The trip came to an end, I would say we jumped into the cab…let’s just say slide in very carefully and went back to Gary’s apartment. We didn’t have much time to get changed and go back out. Gary had gotten orchestra seats for the new ballet everyone was talking about. I was thrilled. I know Gary would have preferred tickets to the opera, but knew how much I really wanted to go to the ballet.
I waddled into the bedroom where my little black dress was draped over a chair. Three-inch pumps with sheer black thigh highs were placed on the same chair. I picked up the dress and examined it closely, looking for wrinkles and “fuzzies”. It was a basic black sheath dress, elegant, suitable for any occasion. When I bought it only a few short months ago, it fit loosely – my figure ever so slightly silhouetted – leaving much to the imagination as to what was underneath. I stepped into the dress, Gary zipping it up the back. I studied my reflection carefully in the full length mirror on the back of the door. My shape was no longer a mystery. My fuller hips pushed out the sides of the dress showcasing what would have been an hourglass figure – except for my significantly rounder – ok, bloated midsection which pulled the material tightly to every curve and bulge.
I remember thinking that there wasn’t much room for additional growth. The dress had no stretch and the taffeta lining hugged me firmly as it was. This was Gary’s favorite dress and this being a special occasion; I thought it could take a few more nights of overindulgence before it finally gave way. Gary needed to help with getting on the thigh highs since I was having difficulty bending forward – still terribly bloated and I became out of breath from trying and failing to bend forward. Then I slipped on my shoes and we were ready to go.

I took Gary’s arm as we exited the cab for the special late afternoon showing. It was truly a wonderful performance. The costumes, sets, music, and movement were sheer perfection. Gary remarked several times how he felt sorry for the dancers – their scrawny, half-starved bodies screamed, Please feed me! Ok, so I didn’t say Gary wasn’t single minded.
During the intermission, we feasted on tall glasses of champagne with a large, plump strawberry in the bottom of the glass and dark, moist chocolate cake. I guess Gary wanted to keep my stomach stretched. And, I couldn’t believe I was actually a bit hungry. My appetite and capacity had indeed increased. In the beginning, I was easily stuffed. I couldn’t maintain any momentum. Now I could eat much more over longer periods of time.
Later, Gary surprised me yet again with reservations for the Victorian Lounge. While I had heard of it, I only knew they specialized in Italian food which I thought rather odd considering their name. I figured it would be a more upscale establishment specializing in fancy dishes in small portions. Once we entered the place, I could see where the name came from.
The Victorian Lounge was dimly lit with expensive Italian wood furnishings. Each table was draped in plum-colored draperies. We were immediately shown to our table upon our arrival. When I parted the draperies, there was not only a table and chairs, but a velvet chaise lounge. Gary pulled out the chair for me to sit.
“How lovely,” I remarked. “But, why the chaise lounge?”
“You’ll see later,” Gary said with a wink.
The enthusiastic waiter came to the table. Speaking broken English he welcomed us and went over the nightly menu specials. Having been here before, Gary asked if I would trust him to order for the two of us. I graciously accepted. Gary surprised me by ordering in Italian. The waiter began a light banter with Gary, smiled and went off to place our order.
“So what did you order?” I asked.
“Oh, you’ll see,” he replied with a big smile.
“Gary, I’m barely fitting into this dress as it is,” I pointed out. “There really isn’t too much room for expansion. I hope you weren’t ridiculous.”
“I ordered just enough food,” he replied.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.
The waiter came over with a bottle of a fragrant Merlot, uncorked it, allowed Gary to taste it, and then left it on the table to breathe after Gary approved of its flavor. Shortly, he returned with an appetizer of buffalo mozzarella cheese, fresh basil, and organically grown beefsteak tomatoes and a basket of freshly baked bread. I smiled to my self. I guess I was wrong. He wasn’t ridiculous about the ordering. The two of us ate with gusto – as usually.
Then came a garden salad. We dipped our bread in the herbs in olive oil on the dish at the table. Finally, came the main courses. They were absolutely huge! I couldn’t believe the size of them. Gary had ordered shrimp parmesan with a mound of spaghetti. My meal was a pasta dish that could easily feed a family of four. It was penne pasta with a red sauce with chunks of plum tomatoes and fresh herbs. On the top were two large scoops of ricotta cheese, sautéed eggplant, with a side of asparagus. The waiter expertly shaved parmesan cheese over the mammoth portion.
Chew, chew, chew…my stomach and rounding torso slowly spreading outward…crunch…slurp… my stomach began to feel bloated and heavy and I wasn’t anywhere near the half way point…more bread…more pasta… I began to squirm as I blimped out…pressure…belly squashed against the unyielding fabric…slowing down…ballooning…
Seeing my distress, Gary moved me to lie on the chaise.
“Eat,” he commanded. “No one can see behind these curtains. We won’t be disturbed by the waiter for some time yet.” He showed me a small switch on his side of the table. “I’ll signal to the waiter when you’re ready for dessert.”
“Dessert?”
“Come eat,” he said, seductively, kissing the nape of my neck.
“Well, perhaps if I ate slowly I could fit in a little more,” I said.
“That’s my girl.”

Gary fed me slowly allowing me to savor every bite. I'm so full, but it’s all so good. My belly bulged beyond belief, puffed out, and then positively ballooned while Gary stuffed me fuller and fuller. More…more…oofff…slurp…I’m at full capacity but I want more…so good…so heavy…pant…pant…have to breathe more slowly…
Gary couldn't help but place his hand on top of my bulging sphere. I moaned as he began to massage – trying to relieve some pressure and enjoy the fattening process he had begun. He even seemed to moan softly, his hips slightly pumping as he gazed down at his handiwork.
My waist was disappeared deep into my belly and I was almost orb-shaped. I lay back more on the chaise and massaged my rounding sides as Gary’s fork scraped the now empty bottom of the dish. Panting from my exertions and perhaps a bit more, Gary finally finished feeding me, wiping a bit of sweat from my brow.
My belly was pinned painfully under my dress. I could feel the taffeta lining slightly tearing earlier, which helped a little. But, I could barely catch my breath I was so bloated. Gary had me sip the wine as he continued to lean over me, rubbing my massive swell…round and round in small then larger circles…back to smaller ones again…
This went on for some time. Then Gary rang for the waiter. He smiled knowingly at Gary and brought the dessert – two small pieces of Tiramisu.
“The waiter didn’t look surprised at my condition,” I mentioned to Gary as he feed me dessert.
“You aren’t the first woman I’ve brought here to fatten. But you are the most beautiful,” Gary replied, kissing me full on the lips.
“You’ve done this before?” I groaned as he had me clean my plate.
“Only once or twice before,” he admitted. “I love to see a woman truly enjoy her food and swell up, plumping up before my eyes. It’s so exciting. And, you’ve got so much potential. Besides, that’s what they do here. This is a special club for feeders and their feedees. We can stuff our feedee, the feedee forcing more and more food into their distended bellies, in complete privacy.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “I’ve never heard of such a place before.”
“There are so many places I want to show you,” he said kissing me on the forehead.
Dinner had taken almost two and a half hours and I was truly exhausted. Gary asked for the check and paid the bill. He helped me to my feet. As we passed tables curtained off like ours was, I could hear distinct groans and moans. There seemed to be a larger area to the rear of the restaurant with no draperies.
“What’s back there?” I asked.
“Public area. People can feed each other out in the open while others watch,” Gary explained. “Where we were was the private fattening areas. Next time we come, I’ll show you back there. Come, let’s go home.”
On our way out the waiter said something to Gary in Italian. Gary, half-carrying me to the cab told me he said, “She has ballooned nicely. Stuff her well. Grow her enormous.” I tried to laugh, but only came out as a sigh.

Back at Gary’s apartment, I immediately took off my shoes and asked Gary to unzip me and free me of the confines of my now much smaller little black dress. The zipper came down easy enough, but the dress itself attached itself to me as if it were a second skin. I tried stepping out of it and then pulling it over my head. It was hopeless. My overstuffed belly held me into the dress like a vise. I was painfully constricted. With every breath I took, I was being squeezed ever so tight.
“I’ll have to cut you out of it,” Gary said, brandishing the scissors.
“Oh, no,” I said, trying to unsuccessfully wiggle out of the dress.
“My dear, you’ve grown too rotund. You’ll never be able to get out of it now. Maybe later when you deflate a little. Do you really want to wait that long?” Gary asked.
I thought about it. I loved this dress, but I was really uncomfortable. I couldn’t even sit. Then my sides started to cramp up from my flesh trying to puff out but having no where to go. I begged him to hurry and cut me free.
“Ahhhhh…” I breathed softly. Slightly pink, my belly pushed its way free. I sat in the recliner burring my tortured, bloated middle with both hands, leaning back into the chair.
“Oh, my Lord,” Gary exclaimed, spreading my legs slightly, wrapping his arms around me, and resting his head on the top of my swell.
The sight of me in my black bra and panties – panties forced down by my expanding girth, high heeled pumps and black stockings – not to mention a immensely enlarged belly which appeared more than well fed – was just enough too much for Gary to stand.
He ripped off my panties with his teeth, burying his face deep into me.
“Oooph…” I exclaimed has his head pumped up and down, pushing into my inflated belly.
Using his tongue and teeth, he licked and sucked, sucked and licked until my knees were weak. He was relentless. I thrashed and cried out as I came closer to the edge. Then he stopped. He pulled away and put both of his palms across my belly. He expertly examined it and proclaimed that I was not just full. He wouldn’t allow me to come until I was properly filled.
I hadn’t seen earlier that he had put a container of mini cream puffs next to the chair. Before I could protest, he began to pop one after the other into my gapping mouth. I insisted that I eat every last one. He pushed my legs apart as far as he could spread them.
He went down on me as I began gorging. The sensations were incredible. My hips began to thrust as Gary sucked long and hard and my speed increased. I began eating faster, almost swallowing the cream puffs whole…sensations overwhelmed me…my belly ballooned enormously, larger than ever before…the skin stretched tautly across my belly…bigger and bigger…more and more…23 gone then another 4…he had me count them off so he would know the right time…then 5 more…belly to bursting point…finished the last one…half-formed words and random vowels tumbled out of my mouth as Gary moved to bring me to the brink. I screamed, holding my enormously engorged belly as I came over and over again.