She stood in front of her closet, clearly frustrated, searching for something that still fit. Her body has changed visibly over the past months and how. Everything fits tighter now. Clothes that were loose and airy a year ago now cling to her curves. As she started trying things on, something switched in me.
One by one, she slipped into last summer’s dresses. What once flowed now hugged every inch. Her belly pushed against the fabric, her breasts filled the top completely, her thighs and ass were clearly outlined. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so her breasts moved freely and heavily, sometimes resting on her belly, which now clearly sticks out farther and is on the verge of starting to hang.
She grabbed her belly multiple times. Not shyly, but deliberately. Each outfit she tried confirmed just how much she’s grown.
Then came the bikinis. What used to fit perfectly has now become a fight with the fabric. Her breasts overflow the cups from the top or sides, pushing out with soft pressure. The bottoms still fit, but just barely either worn low with her belly hanging over them, or pulled up high with a soft roll spilling over the waistband. Her ass stretched the fabric to its absolute limits. It looked like it was swallowing the bikini whole.
After that, she moved on to lingerie. Most bras were too tight to wear for more than a minute. The garter belt still fit, but she had to wear it higher than before, just like bbw’s have to. Her hips no longer allow it to sit low. That image hit me hardest: her full belly beneath the belt, her soft, thick thighs, her heavier body radiating femininity and surrender.
What I regretted most was that she didn’t have heels on hand. Her calves have thickened too, rounder and firmer. I would’ve loved to see her on pumps, balancing all that new fullness on something so delicate. That contrast still lingers in my mind.
What made the whole afternoon so special was that it wasn’t just about finding something to wear. There was tension in the air. She knew exactly what she was doing. It was teasing.
Later, she stepped on the scale. Not on an empty stomach, but the number was unmistakable: 97.2 kg / 214 lbs.
We’re just three kilos — about 6.5 pounds — away from the milestone of 100 kg (220 lbs).
And with the way she’s eating, the way she no longer resists the changes. Not as a goal, but as the natural outcome of a path she’s now fully allowing.
She seems to have accepted it or maybe even enjoys knowing how much it drives me wild.
I’m already looking forward to seeing her in summer clothes on vacation. Hopefully in a bikini too… because I can’t wait to catch the looks she’ll get from fellow fat admirers