M/27/ Just some Guy

should I get another cake … obesity calls

It’s cute that you think I could fit all of this on any lap 🤭💕

I’m always so shocked on how it just drops like that 😳

Look at me.

Not posed. Not pulled in. Not trying to be “flattering.”

Just… me.

Heavy. Soft. Full.

A blue bikini stretched over a body that has finally started to feel like it belongs to me.

My belly hangs low now.

Not a little curve. Not a hint.

A real, undeniable weight that pulls downward when I stand sideways… like gravity finally has something worth holding onto.

And I love it.

I love the way it rounds out before it drops.

The way it sits, the way it sways, the way it refuses to be hidden.

The way it looks like it’s been fed and adored and allowed to exist without apology.

This is the heaviest I’ve ever been.

And I’m not scared of that sentence anymore.

I’m turned on by it.

By the fact that I’ve grown into something bigger than I used to be.

By the way my body has gotten softer, thicker, heavier… and somehow more mine than ever.

There’s something intoxicating about being this full.

The kind of full you can see from the side.

The kind of full that changes the way you move.

The kind of full that makes you feel your own presence—every step, every breath, every little shift of weight.

I don’t want to shrink.

I want to be admired like this.

I want to be watched while I exist in a body that takes up space like it was always meant to.

Because this isn’t “letting myself go.”

This is letting myself have.

Letting myself indulge.

Letting myself expand.

Letting myself become.

And honestly?

The more I grow, the more I crave it.

The more I want to see just how heavy I can get…

How low it can hang…

How much softer I can become…

Until the sight of me is enough to make someone’s mind go blank.

So yes.

This is me, in a blue bikini.

Side profile.

Belly hanging low.

At my heaviest.