The Fat Parlor - Part 6

We laid there for some time, just enjoying the afterglow and the sensation of being connected in that special way. That and we were both still very high and I was still catching my breath. Guy didn’t seem nearly as winded, but his powerful inhalations were still strong enough that I could feel myself rise and fall with each breath he took. 

Everything this man did, he did big.

It was a few minutes before I felt him stir. I was still hard, still very much buried up his hole, but it became clear that my time inside Guy was coming to an end. At least for now.

I probably shouldn’t have been too surprised with what he said next. “Wanna order some food up?”

The brothel had a kitchen of course. A place devoted to a larger man’s pleasure couldn’t possibly exist without free and easy access to food, and the far parlor would deliver full-course meals to patrons that had purchased a room. Patrons like me.

I wasn’t all that hungry--I’d heard that marijuana can leave some people with a powerful and explicable craving--but Guy was famished. He ordered several items for room service, including a full large pizza and a banana split. There were healthier options available as well, but Guy assured me that they weren’t for a night of hedonism. 

His point wasn’t clear at the time, but it became so after the food arrived.

Guy was polite enough to offer me access to anything he’d ordered before he dove in with a gusto. Chicken wings, french fries, whole slices of pizza--all of it disappeared down his hungry maw. Occasionally he’d stop, take a bite of that banana split, and then continue eating his more deep-fried options.

“It’s to keep my mouth cool,” he explained. This man brought thermal efficiency into his binge eating.

So as not to seem rude, I nibbled on a chicken wing, which somehow tasted far better that I’d expected. I’d eaten the whole thing before realizing it, then reached for another. All the while Guy was working through his various courses, flitting from one meal to the next like a honey bee devouring an entire garden.

It was fascinating. I wasn’t really aroused by his eating, but the way he seemed to have turned consumption into an art was just mesmerizing. That and watching him move belied an agility that I’d not seen during our lovemaking. Guy would twist and reach and contort to gather everything he’d surrounded himself with on the bed, all of it going inside him just as easily as I had. More so, really.

I’d finished three wings by the time he’d demolished half the pizza and most of the other appetizers. The banana split was gone, but it was no longer necessary--the food had lost much of its heat, not that it had ever slowed Guy down.

Now that the plates and trays no longer surrounded Guy’s lap, I finally noticed that he was hard. His shiny dome was pointing straight forward, glistening, just visible between his rippling thighs and beneath his wobbling belly. If I wasn’t aroused by his eating, Guy certainly was. 

He noticed what had caught my eye. Licking his fingers, he beckoned me to his side with a wink. “Why don’t you take care of this while I finish up here?” He then leaned back so his gut could reveal more of his shaft. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for me to work with.

Guy was efficient and remarkably clean for the amount he ate, but he wasn’t perfect. Crumbs and specks of sauce littered his body, some were even trapped in his pubes. I did my best to ignore them as knelt between his spread-eagled legs and brought my face towards his glistening manhood. 

This wasn’t like before. Rather than shove himself down my throat, this time he just let me do as I pleased. So I licked the head to start, tasting him for the second time, and then I licked up and down as far as I could, which wasn’t very far. When the flab of his groin or thighs got in the way, I trailed along the intruding flesh and nibbled at it as far as I could reach. A few stray pubes got caught in my teeth for my trouble, but I guess I was still too high to care.

Above me, I could hear Guy groaning. It was hard to tell if it was because of me or if he was finally getting full. I ignored him and fell into a rhythm, diving down onto his cock as far as I could before going off on a tangent down his thigh or up his belly to tongue his navel. He was my playground, and I was very much enjoying my play.