Thread: Chiara
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Old 01-30-2018, 06:47 AM   #3
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: Germany
Posts: 61
Borghen has said some nice things

“Dinner is served,” I called from the kitchen. “Ready for a second round?”

I had cooked a nice pot of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a couple of steaks were ready as a second helping. I sincerely hoped that Chiara was up to the task, having awakened while the water was boiling.

“Spaghetti and tomato sauce?” Chiara entered the kitchen, a groggy expression on her face. She had donned a baggy sweat suit and was wearing flip flops. She sniffed the perfume and grimaced, putting a hand on her still rounded stomach. She padded to a chair and sat heavily.

I grabbed the pot and laid it on the table. “You need to train, remember? Eat up.” I sat, to conceal my second erection. God, I’m about to explode!

Chiara leaned back, spreading her legs. “I don’t know if I can eat that much.” Her hand patted her belly. “I’m still pretty full,” she admitted, lifting the hem of her shirt. Her belly was pushing the waistband down and the lace was untied.

I squirmed on my seat. “Haven’t you digested, yet?”

“Nope.” She lowered the shirt and gave the pot a dainty look. “To be honest, I’m having second thoughts about this whole affair.”

That could not be: my wet dream was about to end and I could not allow that! “Listen,” I reasoned. “You were so excited about that prize. There must be a solution.”

Chiara shrugged, put a small helping of spaghetti on her plate and took a forkful. “Maybe I’m not built for this. I guess it’s a matter of…metabolism.” She chewed and swallowed with some effort.

Metabolism, right! “Yes, that’s it!” I slammed my fist on the table. “We’ll have to work on your metabolism!”

She looked at me quizzically, a second forkful hanging in the air. “How…?”

“Don’t worry!” I leaned forward. “We’re starting tomorrow anyway.”

“Aren’t you working?”

Shit! “I’m taking the day off, just for you.”

“Thanks, but…”

“But you must do me a favor.” I raised my index. “Prove that I’m not wasting my time, that you’re serious about doing this.”

“How exactly?” She eyed the pot doubtfully.

You’re not so dumb, after all. “Finish the spaghetti.”

“It might take a while.”

It would not take long, if I had it my way. “I can wait.” I sat back and served myself a good helping; then pushed the pot towards her. “Here you go.”

Two hours later Chiara had swallowed the last forkful and looked at me with glazed eyes. Her fork fell to the bottom of the pot with a metallic ring, followed by a loud belch. Her shirt had ridden up once again and her belly was even fuller than before. She patted it with a dull sound, followed by a gurgle.

“I’m done,” she whispered. “Leave me here.”

“You’d better go to bed,” I suggested. “Sleep it off.” And turn it into lard!

Chiara shook her head. “Not sure if I can stand.”

“Nonsense.” I stood and slid behind her. “Here, let me help.”

I grabbed her by the armpits and pulled her up. I was stronger and heavier than she was but, despite that, it took some effort to get her standing. Chiara needed a few seconds to find her balance and had to arch her back; she put and arm around my shoulders and used the free hand to sustain her swollen midsection.

I slid my own arm around her thickening waistline and we slowly made our way to her bedroom. She staggered a couple of times but I held her tight; the mass of her huge belly was enough to make my head sway. We entered the room and I gently lowered her on her bed.

“Sleep well.” I caressed the bloated dome of her gut one more time. “Tomorrow we are gonna have some real fun.”
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