Pudgy Christmas Boobs (family gathers around my chest)

My jacket doesn't fit.

They've fattened up to the point that my winter jacket from last year actually doesn't close over them.

Kinda to be expected but it doesn't make it any less shocking to me.

I've let y'all persuade me that bigger is better. I've almost completely let go of my diet and exercise regime I was on before the holiday season.

I haven't measured this week but I can tell that all those extra holiday calories have definitely gone straight to make Plushy Pudding, as evidenced by how noticeably I'm overflowing my sports bra even in XXXL sweatshirt.

I turned the contrast up and put the picture in black and white so that it's really obvious where the sweatshirt is tight. Looking the mirror I was really astounded that my quad boob (the extra boob that's overflowing and bubbling up over my bra) is really noticeable.

This is where I really really wanted to wear a jacket the entire holiday season. But, as I've grown out of that jacket, I've been forced to wear clothes that don't really fit.

I was already nervous to see my partners family, since, although my relatives are all still shocked at how large my breasts have grown, at least they've seen me a bit more recently.

I haven't seen my partners family since last year, and I know y'all inside the patreon have been watching my updates on growth, so you're very well aware that they've more than doubled in size this past 12 months.

When we pulled up to his house, me and just my sweatshirt, I was having a panic attack in the car, my partner giving me a hug and back rub to calm me down.

" No one is going to say anything, and just let them stare if they have to, I love you baby no matter how big your breasts grow" My partner whispered into my ear, something approximating those words, making me feel a bit more comfortable.

When I walked in it was just his mother there, and she didn't even try to stop her astonishment. She stared, and came in for a hug, saying to me while we hugged

" What happened? Are you okay?"

So I went into the whole story, the medical situation, the hormones, my breast glands hypersensitivity to blah blah blah, stuff. Anyone in this patreon would probably be able to recite it all back to me at this point lol.

But these people aren't my fans clamoring for more information about my every added ounce of boob, they're just normal civilians who don't understand that breasts this large are even possible.

After a little while talking about it she moved on. Going to conversations about work and what we're going to eat, apartment, random.

Much of my partners family doesn't speak English, which introduces another level of paranoia into my mind. As they go back and forth in their native tongue, anytime one of their eyes would linger on me, for even a moment, I only imagined that they were talking about me. Talking about my oversized jello.

More and more family entered the house. Lingering stare from literally every one of them..

The same questions asked over and over again, sometimes the aunts or cousins that had already heard my boob spiel would actually answer the questions for me, but none of them told others not to ask.

I mean how could they not ask? Literally the biggest boobs they'll ever see, filling out a giant sweatshirt to bursting.

After the first hour or two, after everyone was already there, the boob conversation slowed down, and family members just got into their old patterns of making jokes and playing heads up, a game I both love and hate.

Apparently now you have to pay $2 for the app? No thx.

Christmas music played, people had appetizers and drinks, and the dancing started. One of his cousins kept asking me to dance, something I wasn't good at before my breasts became my center of gravity, so now that they are, I'm not any better at it.

Whenever I'm in a dancing situation nowadays, I kind of just stand with my arms at my waist, and just move my shoulders back and forth, which inevitably starts my breast swaying left and right. Not on purpose, just unavoidable when you have 20 plus pounds of pudding there to shimmy and jiggle. The boob that's overflowed the bra moves more.

I absent-mindedly and nervously overate, something I tend to do recently when nervous at social gatherings. Not helping my breasts to stay small and hidden 😅

The same cousin who asked me to dance commented that the plates I was making were quite big and I was finishing them.

"We know where all the foods going" he said loud enough for me to hear, but not aimed at me. Big laughs.

As the night went on I started to sweat. Out of nervousness and that fact that my staggeringly big boobs were being held skin tight in 3 layers.

We were in a refinished basement with low ceilings and probably 20 people all dancing, drinking, and breathing heavily, and I'm the only one that hasn't taken off my sweatshirt.

My partner was very supportive and clapped back at many of his relatives. I understand that they weren't trying to be rude, I feel like each of them just thought they were saying something funny or interesting, not realizing that I hear these type of things a lot a lot.

Eventually the sweat and boob heat became too much for me and I took off my sweatshirt in the bathroom.

I snapped a picture of me in my tank top and bra (above).

I wanted to show y'all what my partner's family saw. I looked in the mirror and knew it wasn't going to be good, I don't think that I noticed when I was dressing just how pudgy my boobs had become over the last month.

Obviously I'd gained a little bit of weight, maybe more than a little.

I texted my partner to come into the bathroom and tell me if it was okay to go out like this. He came in and, looking more than a little shocked, finally touched his hands to the soft cleavage showing above my tank top, rubbing his hands up and down on the generous amount of boob not even situated in the bra but oozing out of the sides and top, too big to fit in the enormity of the bra I'd purchased only months earlier.

He said it would be okay. He was kiiinda right.

We came out of the bathroom and on sight one of his aunts, drunk and dancing, said

"OH. MY. GOD! they're huge!"

She put the spotlight on me and refused to take it off. Grabbing my hand and pulling me in for a dance that I had trouble protesting, but definitely didn't want.

Her jerky and quick movements making my breasts jiggle and quiver in exaggerated ways, before putting her hands on them and playing them like bongos to the beat of the little drummer boy.

" Pahrump pump pum pum!" Exploding in laughter as my breasts jiggled long after her hands had left.

This is the kind of thing I expected honestly. And in times past I would have wanted to cry, to scream, and run away, but in this moment I just had acceptance. Full acceptance of everything.

The silly size of my breasts the attention they were getting, and people 's awkward and drunken reaction to them.

And it was fine with me. I realized that I could be mad, and I wouldn't be wrong to be mad, but I felt blessed. Although everyone was staring at my boobs, and making comments about them all night, it felt weirdly nice to be the center of attention.

 In some way, I liked it. But I wanted to control it.

I took my hands and placed them on top of my breasts, like giant, soft, jiggly drums and,

🎶

" Our finest gifts we bring

Pahrump pump pum pum, rum pum pum pum ,RUM PUM PUM PUM🎶"

The last three three slaps on the skins of my drums actually audible. 😅

I had a surge of adrenaline as everyone stared at me, leaning into my freakish size, actually pulling their attention to them on purpose.

Like ' Yes I'm 100% aware of how big they are, yes they're still growing, no I'm not getting a reduction, I'm just me, so stare, or be ashamed in your own little corner, but either way, I'm not going to stop playing my drums just because you don't like how loud they are!'

Or at least this is how it all played out in my head LOL. It's totally possible that some people just didn't care at all and then looked over at me like

" What was that noise? Is she slapping her breasts? Jesus Christ, they're huge!"

🤣

But it felt good. And I felt like once I became okay with bringing everyone's attention to them, everyone actually got a little more comfortable. People didn't stop asking questions and talking about them, but it was a lot less.

A lot of my goodbyes at the end of the night still referenced my boobs in some silly joking way, but I wasn't offended by it all. Which is really great progress for me.

So, from me and my pudgy pudding boobs,

Merry Christmas.

Happy Holidays.

And keep playing your own "drums" whatever they are.

☃️❄️🌲❄️☃️