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Mmn looking gorgeous today!!

Feelin gorgeous today!

Good morning everyone 😘

pictures on profiles can once again be expanded. Thank you for your patience with this issue. - Curvage

Good afternoon curvage! Feeling back to my normal self agaian FINALLY!

Jojo Picture from last night, I can't tell if she's pregnant or still just eating good but her continual growth shows no signs of slowing down

Update. She's lost about 12lbs. Do u think she will get slim by next year? 😣

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-5686613/Casey-Batchelor-flaunts-HUGE-baby-bump-clingy-dress-prepares-welcome-child.html http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-5696725/Casey-Batchelor-flaunts-baby-bump-red-bodycon-dress.html

This her most recent vid on insta. She's looking good, and a lot of comments discussing her weight. Someone early on comments asking if she's put on weight, to which she replies...

my goodness

Still gaining...

Just wanted to show my gain so far.. I'm getting pretty big

gotdamn i thought those pics were morphs. holy fuck you are enormous!

Well I never..... https://instagram.com/p/BiewLtCh03I/

Let's enjoy Liv's pudge while it lasts, and hope she gets changes her hairstyle so it stops getting in the way of our lustful gazes. Also any fans of Ruby should watch the whole match - but if I were to take screen caps of every time Ruby looked flabby in the match, I would be here for hours.

Here is a bit of an update... http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-5697305/Ashley-Graham-cleavage-baring-delight-Met-Gala-pre-party-New-York-City.html http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-5692253/Rag-Bone-reveals-plans-launch-plus-sizes-Ashley-Graham-campaign-controversy.html

Boom

They can see the booty from the ISS... https://forum.phun.org/threads/khloe-kardashian-at-a-park-in-cleveland-ohio-5-6-18.2407730/

You should start a 3rd thread just to be sure.

I can't sleep, so...have a picture with my new bra

Happy days in majorca

since i stop exercising, my ass get soooo big and fat

It was the feeding, not the sex, that consummated our relationship. From that point on we were inseparable. We would spend hour upon hour in his basement eating pizza, watching foreign films, and listening to Industrial rock. I didn’t always enjoy it. Some of the films made no sense and the music was tedious. Brad would make me feel stupid for not knowing who Akira Kurosawa was, or shallow for wanting to be a cheerleader. However, rather than resent him for it, I decided he was right. He became my mentor and I became his muse. I quit cheerleading. I went to museum and gallery openings for artists I’d never heard of. I went to concerts in areas of the city that terrified me. I dressed darker. I smoked pot. I gained weight. My new grunge wardrobe concealed my initial gain to most people, but Brad noticed every new pound. His hand would ply the soft flesh around my waist as we walked arm in arm through the school’s corridors. At lunch, he would run his hand up my leg and kneed the softness forming on my inner thighs. Tilting my head back to give me a goodbye kiss allowed him access to the virgin flesh emerging beneath my chin. Our lovemaking sessions became lengthier and more passionate. Food became a regular accessory. He started with “romantic foods”: strawberries smothered with cream, milk chocolate, etc., but soon anything fattening and messy would do. As he fed me with one hand, he would run the fingers of the other over my body, trying to detect where the latest slice of pizza or hamburger was taking up residence. If a dollop of ice cream dribbled from my mouth, he would gently massage it into my skin as if it would process directly into fat. All the while, Brad documented my progress in his art. He would sketch me as I lounged on his pull-out surrounded by candy wrappers, take photos of me eating, or video me as I pinched the fresh folds of flesh around my waist. We considered it foreplay, and I enjoyed teasing him. It wasn’t uncommon for me to bring him to climax without us even touching--like when I demonstrated my pert breasts had grown to the point that I could lick whipped cream off them. This inspired him to take even more “artistic liberties” imagining me dozens, even hundreds of pounds heavier. The way he drew me at these weights startled me. I wasn’t big and beautiful--like when I had posed for him months before--but grotesque and slovenly, with a jowly halo of fat swaddling my chin and cheekbones, and vast expanses of blubber burying any semblance of femininity. One drawing had me eating from a trough, its dark sludge dripping down my chins and chest, filling the fleshy folds where my waist should be. Another had me seated in a small dining chair, my hips and ass cascading over the edge of the seat and wedging between its armrests, as back fat oozed between its wood slat backing like clay pushed through a comb. He laughed at my objections, reminding me that, as an artist, he was compelled to explore beauty and ugliness equally--just like the rosy red apple he had depicted as rotten and maggoty in art class. It made sense to me. Over winter break we spent every day together. Brad had the nude painting I’d originally posed for framed and presented it to me as a Christmas gift which I proudly displayed on my bedroom wall (much to my parents’ consternation). To me, it not only symbolized our growth as a couple, but my growth as an individual. Although I mean that largely in the psychological sense, I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that I was much closer, physically, to the version of me in the painting than I was when we’d first met. At the end of the Fall Semester people were referring to Brad and I as the school’s “Hipster Couple” (a label he detested), but after Christmas break we were more burnouts than hipsters. We initially skipped classes for matinee showings of art films, but soon were skipping them for virtually any reason. On the rare occasion we did attend class, every break was spent smoking weed in Brad’s car or making-out in the darker recesses of our school’s corridors. I went from dressing trendily grungy to lazily sloppy. Wearing Brad’s vintage Nine Inch Nails T-shirt was cute in October, but by February it puckered tight across my chest, cut-off circulation to my upper arms, and I constantly had to pull it down over my nascent pot belly and love-handles lest I be sent to the office. It didn’t help that I often wore the same outfit days at a time. Our overnight trysts were typically clandestine which meant no shower or washing machine access. My morning routine became a few squirts of perfume from my purse and the use of Brad’s palette knife to scrape off food stains. The Sylvia that began the year would’ve been alarmed and repulsed by this new version of her, but the new Sylvia was oblivious. Maybe oblivious is too strong. I knew I was getting fat and my reflection in the mirror—on the rare occasions I failed to avert my gaze—revealed another truth: I was getting ugly, too. My luxurious hair had turned dark and oily; my flawless skin was splotchy and reflective; and even my sparkling smile had yellowed. My sudden transformation alarmed everyone except Brad and me. Teachers and former friends feigned concern, while my parents tried everything from grounding me to an insufferably premeditated intervention at their church. Brad and I laughed at their efforts to “save me,” and even used them as fuel for my feedings. I ate in front of them whenever possible, and pushed my stomach out as far as it would go during their frequent lectures. I may have been “losing my looks,” as my Mom would often say, but I would never let myself be as shallow and superficial as they were. By spring my reputation as a campus beauty was gone. Most days I didn’t care; however, I must admit to a twinge of sadness during Prom season (“a bourgeoisie dog and pony show where the rich, pretty and privileged celebrate themselves,” according to Brad). At the beginning of the year, it was assumed I would be a shoe-in for Queen. I didn’t even get nominated. When Brad got excited that I already had a dress (I had purchased it with my Mother the previous spring) I thought for a second he might actually want to go—until I realized he just wanted me to wear it to see how fat I had gotten. Any disappointment I felt was quickly buried under a steady supply of junk food and pot. Somehow Brad and I attended enough classes and passed enough tests to graduate, though I’m not exactly sure how. I’m also not sure how much I weighed at graduation, but it was probably around 200 pounds—a 75 pound gain from the start of the year. Despite the billowy fit of my graduation gown, it still clung tight around my belly, butt, and hips. As a result, it stopped several inches higher than any other girl and called attention to my thick calves and nearly-as-thick ankles. The cap further emphasized my gain; its square edges running a stark contrast to my moonlike face. As I waited for my name to be called, I suddenly realized something— I was the fattest girl in my graduating class. Eight months ago I was captain of the cheerleading team. How did this happen? My pulse began to race. My throat went dry. I suddenly wished my last name began with “Z.” As I dutifully crossed the stage to a smattering of polite applause, a male voice within the senior class shouted “Mooooooooo!” Amused giggles erupted from a number of the students and, though I couldn’t tell who had uttered the original insult, I easily found Brad, his hand cupped over his mouth to stifle his laughter. I was humiliated. When I confronted Brad, he accused me of being too sensitive before offering a half-hearted apology that I quickly accepted. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had literally grown too dependent on him to resist.

Can you even fit through the door?

So I have a little story about a young woman who works at my local Best Buy. The first time I saw her was about a year ago, behind the checkout lane. This cute brunette was pretty chubby, I would say roughly 200-210 pounds. I could tell she was wearing a body shaper, which might have smoothed out some lumps and rolls, but it did not disguise her size. She carried most of her weight around her midsection - sporting a big, round belly and large love handles that would have made for a perfect muffin top if it wasn’t for her body shaper. That’s not all, she had thick thighs, curvy hips, a wide butt, nice breasts, flabby arms, and chubby cheeks. Then, just last week, I walked into Best Buy and saw her again, wearing the same blue shirt but now with dark grey pants. She looked like she has gained 10-15 pounds, but what was even more noticeable was that she was not wearing shape-wear this time. While she was thicker and softer all over, again it was her midsection that drew the most attention. Her belly now stuck out past her boobs and spilled over the waistline of her pants, covering the button from view. And her love handles had grown larger, also spilling over her pants waistline and forming a great muffin top. To make it even better, she was walking about this time, and I could see her belly fat jiggling with every step. I went to the pick up counter, which was empty at the time. She saw I was there waiting and hurried over, causing her belly fat to jiggle more intensely. Once at the counter, she started typing away on the register. It was nice watching her arm fat shake as she did so, and I noticed just how tight her shirt was now. You could see every bulge and roll, especially the fat rolls on her sides above her love handles. There was even an indent in her shirt showing the exact location of her undoubtedly deep bellybutton. She then turned around to face the shelf, giving a good view of her back fat rolls. Then she leaned over to grab my items. While the sight of her butt straining against her jeans was nice, I paid more attention to how her soft belly fat bulged forward several inches, covering nearly halfway down her thighs. Her shirt stretched tight as she bent over, which really showed just how thick and doughy her midsection was currently. After she returned to the counter with my items, I took them and left. This might be just a short little story, but I’ll never forget it.

Hi everyone 💕💋 I’m new here ! Anyone wanna tell me what I’m suppose to be doing ?

Worth a quick comparison of how she presents herself on Instagram versus reality...

Recent photo post from her Instagram Caption: "From the first month I found out I was pregnant to now at 36 weeks! What a difference and I thought I had a big bump then....crazy!!! 😵 It’s amazing what our bodies can do! 4 weeks to go and counting 🙌 It still baffles me to think I have grown bones, organs, a tiny human inside of me! I’m so glad we didn’t find out the sex, so excited to meet the little one and found out if you are a boy or girl 💗🤷🏻‍♀️💙"

She had a big but and a little tummy even when skinny. It's a pipe dream, but the skinnier models looking at chunky, jiggly Nicole and thinking "if she can be up here with her fat ass and big gut pouring out of her bikini, why am I running five miles every morning and only eating 1200 calories?" would be pretty nice. Especially as it appears her weight is a result of yo yo dieting. Because a year ago she looked like this: . Thinner than in the earlier vid. She gained a little weight, slimmed way down then got fatter than ever.

Random pic. What do you prefer for a girl to eat? What do you like to eat?

Sweet lil' Lauren was looking particularly busty in today's episode...

A couple from the latest set. she's starting to experiment more and more with a little belly play. A pretty exciting new development.