Thread: Chiara
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Old 02-19-2018, 02:38 AM   #5
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: Germany
Posts: 61
Borghen has said some nice things

Two hours later Chiara was slumped in her chair at the table, her belly massively bloated by a double helping of penne all’arrabbiata. The pasta had been very spicy (I had made sure to drop some extra pepper in it) and my friend was fanning her open mouth with a hand, while the other was busy rubbing her bulging belly. Undone belt and unbuttoned pants completed the picture.

“That was great,” she gasped. “I’m on fire. Why is there only a small bottle of water?”

“There is a reason.” I perched on the edge of the table to better look at her huge, heaving stomach. “It is all part of your training.”


I could not resist. I leaned forward and poked her tummy. It was swollen, but tender. “How are you feeling?”

Chiara groaned and rolled her eyes. “How should I feel?” She put both hands on her stomach. “Full.”

I poked her a couple more times. She yelped. “There’s still some give,” I commented. “You aren’t completely full, yet.”

“So, what should I do?”

I stood, opened the fridge and retrieved two big bottles of beer. “You’re thirsty, aren’t you?”
“Sure, but…”

“There you go!” I slammed them both on the table. “You can quench your thirst and expand your capacity at the same time: two birds with a stone.” Something else is rock hard right now.

She eyed the bottles doubtfully. “Are you sure”?

I opened the first one. “Just drink.”

She did. She drank every drop of the first with massive chugs, only taking breaks to catch her breath and belch. The second took longer and she had to pace herself with smaller sips and longer breaks. I watched her intently has her stomach swelled rounder and rounder. Halfway through the second bottle she gave up on any pretense of restraint and pulled down the waistband of her trousers, again exposing her pink panties. My heart raced faster.

Eventually both bottles were empty. She leaned back and slowly massaged her taut stomach. I rested a hand on it: it was as tight as a drum, filled to the brim with food and liquid. Chiara closed her eyes and took quick, shallow breaths, without interrupting the rub. A smile crept on her lips and she chuckled.

“What's so funny?”

“I feel tipsy, that's all,” she answered, without opening her eyes. “Lightheaded.”

And your belly is heavy. “Try sleeping it off. Tonight I’ll have another good meal planned for you.”

“Gimme a minute.”

She kept her eyes closed, humming a song and gently stroking her own gut. I took a deep breath and tried not to stare. My arousal had become painful and everything she was doing was fueling my fetish. Her breath intensified and her hands moved more languidly. I looked at her boobs: the nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. She was enjoying it as much as I was.

I reached one more time with my hand and caressed her bloated midsection. She grinned and let me do it for a while, without opening her eyes. Her belly gurgled ominously, she opened her mouth and released an earth-shattering belch. I stopped, she opened her eyes and smiled at me sheepishly, shrugging her broad shoulders.

“Sorry. Much better now. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

“Better get to bed.” She grabbed the edge of the table and heaved herself up. “Man, the room is spinning!”

I watched her, as she was trying to keep her balance. Her belly was so swollen and heavy that the waistline of her jeans was pushed downwards and only held up by her thick thighs. The roll of fat that encircled her waistline was nowhere to be seen, now replaced by a taut sphere of tan flesh. Chiara swayed a little, then made her way towards her bedroom, arching her back like a pregnant woman.

I followed her, my mouth dry. In the hallway she stopped in front of the mirror and gaped at her reflection. She raised her shirt, posing frontally and laterally, smiling all the time. The she let go a drunken giggle, shrugged and went to her bedroom. I shook my head several times, leaning on the wall for some support, then I went to take a shower.
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