The birthday wish

Getting ready

I had no idea what to wear. I'd dreamed this moment a hundred times in a hundred different ways, but I never expected to keep my courage to ask Daniel, and I certainly never expected him to go along with it. But I did. And he did (so far). And now I had to get out of my pjs
Mand into my first (and maybe last) binging outfit.

I opened the closet and peered inside. The weather had finally gotten hot enough to change out winter clothes for summer, and last year's summer wardrobe was looking a little slim. Both literally, in the sense that almost nothing fit me anymore, and figuratively in the sense that last week I'd culled the embarrassingly small pieces to be donated later. I pulled out a bright tie dyed shirt dress and pulled it on over my head. It was significantly shorter than I remembered and the bulge of my bully already pressed out against the fabric, making a visible dent over my belly button. It was lightweight and stretchy though, so would probably be comfortable, except for the omnipresent threat of the chub rub (I was significantly too fat for last year's bike shorts already). I gave it a 6/10 and tore it off and tossed it in the floor.

Next, I pulled out a jumper. It was black with wide legs and a bib with spaghetti straps. It had wide side openings that made it breezy and comfortable. Last summer, feeling confident and significantly more trim, I'd worn it with a crop top under. I sifted through to find the crop top. I pulled the top on and the jumper up and actually laughed when I saw myself, "my god, I look like a fatter Hamburglar". My belly pushed the bib out forward making the once loose jumpsuit strain across my middle and butt. The large side openings gave a clear view of my hanging belly and love handles while the crop top threatened to go more crop at any second. This would certainly turn heads, and while I was prepared to burgle quite a few burgers, I figured comically overflowing fat girl probably wouldn't ease Daniel into this somewhat uncomfortable situation. 4/10. Do not recommend.

I tossed the outfit aside and made to reach for the tie dye dress on the floor, when I noticed the bag of donation-destined clothes on the floor. I shrugged and opened it to take a peek, grabbing a pair of size 20 denim shorts and a tank top off the top of the pile. I shimmied the jean shorts up my thickened thighs and wrangled the button together. The zipper closed with a good yank and my round apron belly sliced into two. The top belly bulged, but didn't droop, over the top of the shorts. It wasn't especially comfortable, but the shorts were stretchy and had some give. I pulled the tank top on and it was snug across the bust and belly, too, reaching past the waistband by a couple of inches. I chuckled a bit at the tent it created, pitched by that pudgy belly cliff. God, I thought, what am I doing?

I didn't have a chance to fully evaluate the outfit before Daniel came in and said "I cannot imagine what it takes for someone to pick the perfect 'I'm going to pig out at McDonald's for my birthday' outfit, but can we go already? I'm getting hungry, though I only intend to eat a normal amount of food and I'll thank you not to call me names while I eat it."

"Yeah," I said, distractedly. "Yeah, we can go. I'm ready." I turned to pick up my purse and slip on my shoes, feeling just how snug the outfit was as I moved. Ok maybe not the best choice for comfort but 10/10 for convenience and not waiting for Daniel to lose his nerve.

I followed Daniel out of the bedroom. He stopped suddenly saying he'd forgotten his keys, running right into me. He stepped back and really looked at me and my outfit for the first time. He laughed out loud and a quiver when through me. I panicked a little. Oh my god, my mind raced, he's over the shock and he's realizing I am a totally ridiculous human. He's not going to do it. Oh god why didn't I just stealth stuff?? He stepped back a bit to look at me more fully.

"Are you seriously going to do that? Don't you think that's taking this a bit far?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, nervously. I could just go back and grab the dress...it fit well, it just...

"Quit sticking your stomach...your belly out like that. I get it. You want to be a fat girl today. You don't have to walk around sticking your gut out."

Sticking my gut out.

My heart skipped a beat then started to race and my round, albeit squished, belly filled with butterflies.

"Daniel," I said carefully "I'm not sticking my gut out. This...this is what I look like."

"Be serious."

"I am serious. This is...just how fat I am..."

He looked at my face, then at my bulging belly, then back at my face. His smile faded and he slowly reached out a single finger and poked at the ledge of fat spilling over my waistband. I froze. He poked me again. Again. All around until he was satisfied that the fat was real.

"Suck it in." He commanded quietly. I tried not to laugh. Poor Daniel, a guy a few pounds over average, so naive to think a belly like this one can be sucked in. But I humored him and tried. We both watched my belly retract a bit, loosening the strain on my tank top a bit, but making no real impact on the tension of the waistband and no real shrinkage of the belly cliff. He looked me in the eye again and I shrugged a little and winced. "Well," he said casually "your McChariot awaits, my lady."