Al di là delle nuvole, 1995.
Sophie Marceau is Europe's version of Alyssa Milano (child actress turned heartthrob) -- only she's been much more successful as an adult actress.
Europeans were first endeared to Sophie years ago when she starred in the "La Boum" series. While there wasn't any nudity in La Boum, of course, Sophie resurfaced as a young woman just four years later and boy does she show off how she grew up (and out, of course) in "Joyeuses Pâques". What can a guy do when his wife comes home and he has a younger woman in the house?
Reclusive Mak Erot, an elderly Indonesian woman, was famed nationwide for supernatural skills in lengthening penises using traditional herbs and Islamic prayer on Java island.
Female growth is strange. I just find something odd about little girls. Imagining being with one, admiring her skills, her personality, and then sharing something unexpected, which is the aging. As she grows her clothes tighten, teasing us with what is to come. She outgrows them like a child unwrapping a present. Her grace, beauty, mind is the present, and the fact she shares it with you makes it all the more special. Watching, thinking of her becoming older, taller, bigger, more confident, more powerful, more of her to love and admire. I see nothing pornographic in this. I see romance, pleasure, something to celebrate. The goddess has always been in her, the growth just shows it.
I had this one favorite shirt back in middle school that I always loved to wear. It was just my favorite thing in the world, and I only ever really felt happy when I was wearing it. But after a year or so of wear, I put it on one morning and noticed that the sleeves were just a little too short, and the chest was just a little too tight. I first noticed that the "sleeves were too short" at the beginning of summer, but I ignored these minor shortcomings, because this shirt was my life.
Eventually though, I could no longer breathe when i wore it, and the sleeves now only went down to my elbows. People laughed at me and called me "Girl with the shirt that is too small but she still insists on wearing it" (ok, they didn't actually call me that, but I am sure they thought it). So even though it was my favorite thing in the world, I finally had to just stop wearing it and get new clothes. This is an allegory for life.
Christie just sneered at him, her throat too tight for her to speak. The collar of her shirt felt constricting and the rubber soles of her shoes were compressing. The floor creaked slightly below her. She was slowly gaining years. Her weight shot upwards, and she gained half an inch at the waist, two more at the hip as her clothes slowly stretched past the point of ripping.
children grow up...
Impulsively, she pressed against him, and she could feel a bulge swelling against her body. Tommy pulled away just enough to look up at Julie's face. She seemed taller now. Julie craned her head and closed her eyes. Tommy leaned forward and kissed her, pressing his body against hers once again. Julie felt the bulge in Tommy's pants growing even harder, tighter. This was a part of Tommy she had never felt before. She would soon see it, if it kept on growing like that. He felt the incredible need to unzip as Julie continued to kiss him, and slid her hands up and down his back. She was surprised by the musculature she felt. She never knew Tommy's back was so full of muscle.
From her shorts escaped a low tearing sound, which quickly increased in loudness. Tommy was sliding his hands up and down Julie's back and he could feel her expanding beneath her straining shirt as he rubbed her climbing body. Julie's rising ass was now escaping through the first rips in her shorts. His own pants button zinged off and his zipper began to burst open. Slowly her ass grew curvier, rounder and still ever so firm.
"Lordy Jeb, them young-uns o' yours shore have growed. Looks like yer youngest is fixin' to bust outta her clothes."
I saw her in her little flannel pajamas - her breasts about to pop the buttons off the top - her widening hips
and round butt about to split the seams on the bottom.
How to handle obsessive compulsive issues with clothes - 5 yr old
My daughter has this thing. Everything she wears has to be tight. And, I mean: so tight that she bruises herself, clothing rips, snaps break, etc... If I don't tie her shoes tight enough (and I never can), she kicks and screams, throws them across the room.... If I don't put them on: they don't get on. If I do manage to get her shoes/clothing on with the right fit, she only takes them off the second I start driving the car. We show up to school looking like I'm a lazy mom who didn't bother to dress her kid for school. It can take over 2 hours of effort on my part to get her ready.
Getting her into her school uniform: impossible. Finding belts small enough that are in dress code...I haven't found one yet. Not sure it would help anyway though. The issue is the obsessive need of hers to make things so tight that they hurt. Even to the point of the snap not staying on and her clothes bursting open at school. That doesn't phase her.
How do I handle this? If I give her the right to dress herself: she's not in the school's dress code, and in general: she looks inappropriate and I look like a bad mother. If I fight the battles to dress her properly, it's more than an hour or two long screaming meltdown fit, and in the end: she has the last word because she undoes everything the second I'm out of the room or driving the car. So...do I just cut off all the adjustable bands and make her have to pull her pants up all the time (they are too big without the bands) to keep them on? I fear that will only increase her agitation/stress/need for control which will turn into a different compulsion.
what do i do? I've talked to her about the need to be gentle with her body. No effect. I've talked to her about looking normal. No effect. I've made rules with consequences (haha: no effect). I've tried the reward system. That at least makes her get the clothes ON, but...not on appropriately. My trying to change anything she wants: meltdown, screaming all the way to school, crying at school, anger fits...
Time passed more quickly when she did this, but even slipping between worlds sapped what was left of her strength.
Every day her age shifted, every hour she could feel and look decades younger or older, depending on her energy, her will power, her moods. People passed the elderly woman in a hurry, brushing against her as they did so in their blind rush to meet deadlines that were certainly more important than stopping and assisting the death crone as she nearly stumbled over a chair at a corner Starbucks.
The lack of grace that came with her stooped form and slow, torturous gait was willing on her part. Behind the veil of 'Homeless Bag Lady' she'd imposed on herself for the past forty odd years, was a creature that thrived on testing the so called heroism and will of the mortal coil, rewarding inhuman kindness and grace to those who could endure the impossible tasks she would give them.
But, she had noticed that she now existed in society's blind spot, and was quite happy being there, unseen. As she finally approached the building, she attempted to straighten her form, a chorus of cracks and pops along her spine as she did so. Her face took on a younger, kinder light, gentle and yielding and sweet. She set the cane aside, where it abruptly molded into the trunk of a miniature potted tree.
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