Chapter 1

It took a long time for me to notice I was FAT. I've always been a fairly tiny person, and the idea that I could get fat just never occurred to me. I had packed on a good number of lardy pounds before the effects of my irresponsible eating and drinking could no longer be ignored. Denial is a hell of a thing.

I first noticed things were changing when my bras began to fail at their job of holding my tits. My newly swollen cleavage poured out of my 34D bras, bouncing obnoxiously with every movement I made. In low cut tops, they ballooned over the neckline, making any typical top extremely suggestive. If I leaned forward to take notes or reach for a gooey pastry from the snack tray, my hugely inflated boobs would nearly escape the bra altogether, far too large now to be restrained by the struggling D cups of my go-to brassieres. I tried switched to only high neck shirts, but even they clung to my overflowing tits and only highlighted the deep crease in my constant cleavage. 

There was also this weird roll of pudge forming beneath the extremely tight band of my bras. It  made it so that even through my shirts, you could see the outline of my bra creating this roll of chub. But who doesn't want bigger boobs? ... So I was okay with it.

The next thing to alert me to my extra poundage was the fairly rapid expansion of my ass. This came to my attention as it became challenging for my skirts to contain its new roundness. In normal skirts, I couldn't even bend to get something from the fridge without my globular ass cheeks popping into view. Tight skirts allowed me to move around a bit more, but they clung my fat ass so tightly that my deepening ass crack was always in view. I could shove my burgeoning bubble butt into leggings and yoga pants, but the straining spandex made a spectacle of how my porked up cheeks smashed against each other with every step. 

That wobbly smashing of fat against fat was a weird feeling for me, horrifying but also weirdly pleasing? I learned to avoid the jeans that couldn't handle the extra girth behind me, the ones that didn't have enough denim to stretch around it left a deep crease around my hips and somehow managed to force some off that ass fat into little lovehandles. They weren't reeeeally love handles though. Plus, I knew my fatter ass was getting a lot of male admirers. Guys love a girl with a big ass, right? .... So I was okay with it. 

My thighs came next, and damn, did they blow up fast! In a matter of weeks, all of my jeans were disqualified, stopping abruptly a few inches above my knee, where no amount of stretching could force my pudge into the denim . It was a sight when I would try, too. I would suck in and pull the pants up with all of my strength, sweat, wiggle, and bounce until I finally had to breathe. All of the chub on my lower body would jiggle as I exhaled, my chunky upper legs bubbling over the defeated jeans. More than a couple of pairs met their demise this way. 

Resigned to stretchy yoga pants, I was also resigned to feeling my new thick thighs rub against each other when I walked. My even plumper ass checks still crashing against each other, the additional sensation of my thick, hefty thighs constantly rubbing made walking a very different experience. Running felt like carrying a sack of fat that was always 2 seconds behind me. Luckily, I didn't do very much of that. My gait probably changed around this time, trying to learn to walk gingerly with all of pudge in constant motion was kinda hard. I noticed when that sitting down on barstools and or restaurant chairs, my butt and thighs spilled over the edges a bit. But that must be normal, it must happen to other people all the time! And THICC girls are in right now, I've heard it's even more popular than thigh gaps in porn now! Thick thighs are hot when the rest of you is thin, right? I figured I was finally in that category... so I was okay with it. 

...it took me much longer to accept my belly. 

I will tell you all about my belly, and the rest of my journey, if you guys are interested to hear about it! 😉