Romans & histoires Feed My Affection

And for some stupid reason, getting those words from his lips have the illusion like he cared, even though I knew it wasn’t that. He didn't use the fork, instead he picked the pieces of meat between his fingers and held them to my lips. He fed me like this, like I was some exotic animal that he had turned into a pet. His one hand sometimes played with my hair and rested on my head as he used the other to feed me. He didn’t eat himself, maybe he was afraid of someone poisoning his food, but Ephraim didn’t have that fear. Because after some time, I heard him murmur. “I will meet you at the castle.”

“Food is love” goes a popular saying, and no one knows that better than me, though I might change it to “food is love and sex and friendship and seduction.” I can’t seem to ever visit anyone or have a date without wanting to feed my lover, and the sweeter the offering, the better. It’s not just the Jewish mother in me that gets off on serving up delectable goodies along with my voluminous breasts and eager-to-please mouth. It’s more that I want my lovers to be fully satisfied; I want to fill them up in every way I know how.

“We should discuss practicalities. When I feed from you, where do you prefer? Some humans like it to be clinical—quick bite, quick feed, done. Others prefer it to be… intimate.” My face heated. “Intimate how?” “I can make you come every time I feed.” His bluntness should have shocked me, but somehow it didn’t. “The pleasure is inevitable, but I can enhance it. Touch you while I drink. Make it last. Turn feeding into something you crave rather than endure.” “And you? What do you prefer?”

“Open wide,” he said, his voice low and velvety. I obeyed instantly, opening my mouth and allowing him to feed me. The sensation of him caring for me in this way stirred up a mix of emotions... vulnerability, joy, and an undeniable sense of being pampered. It was a simple gesture, but it felt incredibly intimate. I could see the tenderness in his eyes as he fed me that spoonful of food, like he truly wanted to take care of me. He pushed the food tray towards me, a hint of shyness in his eyes.

I smiled, the feeling of affection was eating me out. “Do not leave me alone,” she said to me. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you wake up,”

When I opened it, it was a message with just four words. *I need to meet you.*

Stacey's eyes light up at the sight of the food, her laughter filling the room as I feed her fries dipped in the milkshake, a playful act that strengthens our connection. As we share the meal, the room fills with love and gratitude, the simple act of feeding each other symbolizing the depth of our relationship. The bond between us grows stronger with each passing day, and I am grateful to have Stacey by my side, a beacon of light and love in my life.

It was a delicate dance of trust and intimacy, each bite strengthening the connection between us. As I fed him, I marveled at the way his features softened, his eyes shining with a vulnerability reserved only for moments like these. It was as if the act of nourishing each other physically mirrored the emotional nourishment we provided in our relationship. With every morsel, I fed not just his body but his soul, pouring my love into each bite. He chewed slowly, savoring the flavors, his gaze never leaving mine. It was a silent conversation, the unspoken words of love, appreciation, and desire passing between us with every exchange.

However… "Mom, the doctor said I can only eat light and bland food now. Anything too spicy or too strong will put a huge strain on my organs," I said. Melissa almost dropped her utensils when she heard that. Her eyes instantly turned red. "I'll have the chef prepare a few lighter dishes, then." I waved a hand. "It's okay to have this once in a while. Thanks, Mom." She gently patted my head and didn't say anything more.

All of me. “You told me I would say it back. Look, I am saying it now. You were right. I said you know me, baby. I told you that you’re not human, you’re an angel. You knew me. God, I love you so much. I love you, Mad,” he pants in the nook of my neck just as my stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t fed it since yesterday. Usually, I’d be embarrassed, but I’m not now. There is a certain comfort I feel right here.