Thread: Chiara
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Old 02-24-2018, 10:34 PM   #8
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: Germany
Posts: 61
Borghen has said some nice things

I went shopping and came back carrying a huge watermelon and several bottles of cheap discount beer. Chiara was still asleep, so I took everything to the kitchen, put the beer in the fridge and started cutting the watermelon; it had to be at least a dozen pounds and every slice was so big it could barely fit the plate. I sat in the kitchen and waited until eight, then I stood and went to wake up Chiara. She was laying on her bed, like a huge beached whale. Her belly, only slightly deflated, rose like a mountain.


She groggily opened her eyes. “What else?”

“Dinner is served! Come on!”

She flailed her arms, but I decided not to help her, in spite of how eager I was to lay my hands on her bloated body. Chiara groaned, rolled on one side and pivoted on her hip, until she was across the bed; then she flopped flat on her back and put both feet on the floor. I watched fascinated as she tried to sit up twice, propping herself on her elbows. She almost managed on the second attempt, but her arms slid on the duvet and she fell back. With an exasperated groan, she pushed herself forward and slid to the floor, landing on her butt. Only then, seated with her back to the bed, could she gain enough leverage to stand up.

“I’m impressed,” I remarked. “That was quite a feat.”

She pressed a hand on her stomach. “Man, I got sweaty just getting out of bed.” She sounded almost as amazed as I was aroused. “Quite a workout.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. The nap helped.”

I poked her belly. It was softer than before. “Seems like you have some room left.”

“I hope so.”

“Just follow me.”

“What’s to eat?”

“Watermelon, and plenty of it.”

She bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

“That’s exactly what you need,” I explained. “After all that fat and greasy food, you need something light to recover and watermelons are little more than water.”

“It makes sense, I guess.”


Chiara took a quick detour to the toilet and joined me in the kitchen. I immediately seated her in front of the watermelon and took a frosty beer bottle out of the fridge. Sure enough a watermelon had nearly no calories but, as every self-respecting FA with a stuffing fetish knows, it is also good to stuff somebody’s belly to the bursting point to increase its future capacity. Chiara was still thirsty after her lunch, so she dug in the fruit with gusto and chugged a liter of beer while doing so. The nap had indeed freed some room in her stomach and she quickly took advantage of that.

Only two slices were left and her shirt was stretched to the bursting point. Her low rise jeans, unbuttoned since lunch time, were now riding even lower, barely covering her buttocks. She leaned forward to reach another slice and the second button of the day popped open. This gave her the room she needed, allowing her to finish the watermelon. I grabbed the last bottle of beer, still one third full, and brought it to her lips. She slowly drank it all. Then she belched (it was a sound I was getting used to) and laid back, immediately falling asleep.

I had to wait until a little before midnight before she woke up and came to her senses. Only then, at price of a great effort, could I carry her towards the bedroom. I had to open all the buttons of her shirt, except the first three, to prevent them from popping under the strain. Even so, she could barely bend at the waist and I had to grab her under the armpits, not daring to put any pressure on her midsection. She leaned back to accommodate her new center of gravity and eventually managed to lay back on the bed. I poked her tummy one last time: hard as a rock, it wouldn’t give a quarter of an inch. Chiara belched a couple of times, then closed her eyes. I left her to digest and went to my room, for a sleep filled with wet dreams.
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