Thread: Chiara
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Old 02-01-2018, 01:16 AM   #4
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: Germany
Posts: 61
Borghen has said some nice things

“Wakey, wakey!” I looked down at Chiara, still asleep on the bed. Her stomach had deflated slightly during the night, but was still rounder than usual.

Chiara opened her eyes. “What…what is happening?” Her belly rumbled and she belched. “’Scuse me.”

“We are working on your metabolism, like I said.” I reached down and patted her gut. “Put on some workout clothes and join me in the living room.”

I ignored her muffled groan and left her. The living room was also a workout area, with a bench, a set of dumbbells and an old rubber mat. I rolled the mat and put it away, then knelt to adjust the discs on the dumbbells. I figured ten pounds would be enough to start.

“What are you doing?”

I raised my head. Chiara was standing in front of me. I almost dropped the dumbbell I was handling. She had her hair pulled back in a small bun and was wearing matching tank top and workout shorts. The top squeezed her boobs giving her distinct cleavage and the shorts were tight on her thick thighs.

But what really entranced me was her midsection. Her belly, still rather full from the previous day’s double binge was hanging free, jiggling slightly. It curved outwards right beneath her sternum and sloped down into a cute muffin top, enhanced by the tight waistband; the muffin top itself circled her waist forming a pair of soft love handles.

“What are you doing and what are you looking at?”

I shook my head, realizing that I had been staring. “Nothing, nothing.” I looked down, while blushing. “I was just fixing these dumbbells for you.”

“What for?” She scratched absentmindedly her soft tummy.

I stood. “Well, you said something about improving your metabolism, right?” I gestured towards the weights. “What better way than building some muscle? You’ll be stronger and hungrier in no time!”

“Shouldn’t I go for a jog or something?” Her rueful expression made it clear that she did not think highly of the idea.

And burn some fat? No way! I shook my head. “No, not really. Cardio isn’t gonna help you that much.” I grabbed her broad shoulders. “You need some mass.” I shook her lightly and her boobs bounced.

“Ok.” She put her hands on mine. “Let’s get started.”

We began her workout with some stretching for her shoulders and upper torso. Every time she raised her arms, her breasts squashed and bounced together, trying to escape the tightness of the top; every time she twisted her torso, the layer of pudge bunched and formed cute rolls. Just wait till I get through with you and we’ll see how well you’ll bend.

I had Chiara sit on the bench and go through a basic set of presses for shoulders, arms and chest. She began sweating almost immediately and, just looking at her shiny tummy, I felt my temperature rising, too. Ten pounds proved to be too light, so I quickly upgraded her to twelve. She grunted during her second set of lifts and I gave her assistance, grabbing her arms and helping her during the last reps. Her muscles were tight, under a soft layer of fat.

I gave her some time to catch her breath and drink some water, then moved on to the lower body: performing squats and lounges she soon was dripping with sweat. I wasn’t any cooler, mesmerized by her thick thighs and bulging calves. After the last set she dropped the dumbbells and eyed the mat.

“Are we going to use that, too?”

“That? Oh, no. Absolutely no!”

“Why not?”

Because I want you round, not flat. “Because you do not need to strengthen your abs.” I tried to sound as knowledgeable as possible. “Tight abs would act like a wall, preventing you from filling your stomach while eating. You would find yourself feeling full too soon.”

She looked down at her stomach, past her boobs. “Yeah. My tummy needs some room to expand. Right?” She patted her stomach. It grumbled.

“Speaking of which,” I squealed. “Ehm!” I cleared my throat. “Speaking of which, it’s almost time for lunch.” I looked at my watch. “You’ve been working out for over one hour. Are you hungry?”
Her belly rumbled again. “Yes,” she admitted. “I could eat a horse.”

Be careful what you wish for… “Good, go take a shower,” I answered, heading for the kitchen.
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