I had never been able to know how far my ex-intimate's rapid weight gain did affected her physical suppleness at the time, but I assume it didn't affected that much. Even at her heaviest, most of her additional pounds were distributed over her hips, thighs, buttock and chest (especially the buttocks and chest) but to a much lesser extent over her upper arms and face as well. Just imagine having to know a girl with about the same proportions and height than 2013-era Jayma Mays, but end up years later with the same proportions and height (but fairly much chubbier-looking) than 2017-era Andrea Abeli (Jayma Mays in 2013) (then, Andrea Bali in 2017... I'm not joking. Just visualize a small, heart-shaped face but less toned and a little more cherubic with the fledgling buccula, the upper arms fairly more bulkier, the upper thighs that keep to brush a little against each other, the calves a little pulpier, the hips that has gone on the way to form almost a set of riddle breeches with the stammering cellulite skin that transpire under the fabric of a pair of too-tiny stretchy jeans, the slight layer of roll over the waistband, a too-small tank top with the cleavage barely capable to contain her loins but the same exact you-know-what and it left you have an idea...) Going up from about 112/17lbs and 5'4" to the 170s and 5'7" with a drastic change of body type in seven years in one thing. But going up someday from about 145lbs, a D cup, a set of flared-out 41" inches haunches and a toned-yet-bubbly average-sized bum, to the 170s in two-three months and have no idea that your were going to spurt in the nearby future a 38DDD, a set of plain hips or nearly 46" inches wide coupled by a caboose massive enough to carry on a cup over it?? That was a whole another level to her, even if she never admitted it. That woman has always have a complex, positively paradoxical - let alone, somewhat twisted - personality. Suconsequently as well, one self-image which - woefully, for both herself firstly, then I who used to be the enabler/encourager/halftime feeder/trickster of these underlying dynamics of unsufferable sexual tension and half-foreplay within our counterproductive relationship - one self-image that reflects alot her bordeline behaviorism and bipolar tendencies who transpired plentifully at the time: for one instant, she will completely deny her significant size change by lying she still weigh about 130lbs despite the physical evidence (even despite the fact she knew well I'd already seen how she looked up from the 130s to 160lbs) , then five minutes later she were going to admit with a proud smile on her face she recently have tipped the scale over the 170-lbs lane. Then the next five minutes after, she will revert back into full denial crisis again about her both appearance and wardrobe dysfunction then the cycle continue all along the journey. Aside from those details, she was mitigated about the little yet sizeably noteworthy changes it did occured. By example, she was so very proud of her then-large boobs she did spent the entire warmer days of the year to carry anything emphasizing her heavyset chest: cleavage shirts, tank tops, even outgrown zipper cardigans. She adored the attention it gave and how I was making the best mental effort possible to not ogle too much over them. The first time she achieved a 38DD, she became peculiarly thrilled in every sense of the word, going up to brush her breast against my upper arm or backside while walking around just to trigger me sexually. At 38DDD, she seemed sometimes annoyed sometimes amused by the slight increase of their jolting motion whenever she walked... she was not so thrilled however when I asked her if she could ever see her feet from upward while standing tall. She did complained once, one year and one cup smaller earlier these events, about the back pain their increasing heft did eventually rouse, which is quite normal coming at such breadth. Or about the difficulties she did have to consistently update her bra collection one week after another and about how costly that was, up to the point she did spent a large expanse of time to carry casually but sports bras whenever the size of her breasts because she feared an another size expansion. At last, when her breasts stopped to inflate as usual and stayed into the B/C range whenever the next previous weight fluctuations episodes up from 2017 to late 2018, she seemed quite relieved about it. Or again, when she achieved the 140lbs for the first time, she was initially amazed by the way her hips seemed to cling a little into very narrow gaps she used to absentmindedly pass through. For her, that range of weight marked the milestone from which she realized she was no longer as petite as she used to be, a milestone she long did great efforts to keep in. 160lbs however was her chubby milestone proper, because coming at this weight, it became increasingly difficult to her to hide everyone her changing appareance: her face has roundeded out to the point she did carried a set of permanent bouncy cheeks narrowing her eyes, the bottom of her chin was bulging, her upper arms has puffed out and for the first time of her life, her thigh gap was on the way to vanish. She blushed like an amorous maiden whenever anyone was making positive remarks about her moonface and curving-out belly, but despised the realization she has gotten too big even for Medium sized dressing. Tenth or a dozen of pounds or so bigger and it seems that everything she did ate at the time just did goes straight into her butt and breasts. Just enough to exert some little yet visible strain over her body. At her skinniest, she used to have a swift, supple yet jolting straddle as she has always been avantaged by a set of long legs whatever her height, but in the 140s she was somehow slowing down a little the pace, sometimes walking around with a somewhat leisured gait. But coming to the 170s, the weight exercized by her bigger bottom half body, coupled by the pressure of her upper thighs against each other, seemed to have drastically stressed out the shift of her body balance from the core to the hindquarters... when she was moving around, she had no longer any choice but to sway her hips: in a very rythmical, quite ponderous fashion, nearly bordering into less of a waddle. She was also heavier: consequently, her impetus has slowed down enough to not being capable to overstep me like she liked to do, which frustrated her enough to let me know I was walking too far from her and that she found this disrepectful. When we have to sit on a two-seats bench in the subway train, she was trying to space out a little from me because one of her hips was brushing too close from my thigh: an another newfound detail that bothered her. Also, she nearly get stuck into a turnstile-- since the ones used by subway stations at Montreal are generally 500mm wide, leaving only but about 40mm of free gap between the beam of her child-bearing curves and the edges of the aisle. That one detail did first irritated her, amused her a couple of seconds later, pushed her to deny the very happenstance when I spoke about that to a common familiar of ours who came there, did have to step sideway when she crossed it back with both a much pronounced catwalk and loud spank on her donk to my intention, to finally deny it forevermore. One thing she did never get over it however was her decreasing stamina. For as long I knew her, I've never seen her get exhausted or sweatful, even after hours of dancing or hard labor. To prove the superiority of her cardiovascular endurance over mine, she even begun starting 2015 to challenge me everytime I came to visit her after work to run up two-levels of stairs in whichever subway station, leaving me initially just strained enough to pant a little at the end: I never been really tough when it came about endurance. Her, to the opposite, could do that without even been seemingly bothered. But at her heaviest, she wouldn't even try it. Guessing why she would not just by seeing how she seemed somehow weighed down by the sheer size of her bottom-heavy rear while climbing the stairs, that was I who challenged her this time. Coming to the main floor, she had broke a sweat for the first time since I knew her, even panting a little for an entire minute and the recovery was far less easier since she was no longer capable to follow my step even while walking around for the next five minutes. I was noticing these physical changes at the time and since I knew she had that fantasm about achieving 225lbs or looking full-fledged obese someday, my initial thought was: "wow! If she does already look this way, imagine if she truly achieve her body goal...!"