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The Milfening of Claire


>_< 0_0

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Hey guys, guess what? I got another story for you! This one has a milf in it!

Some of you might have noticed that my name is green now 👀 What happened is that I had a couple people ask me if I did commissions, so I figured I'd give it a try. If you want me to write something for you, I'll write a teaser chapter (like this one) and post it for free, and then I'll post the rest of the story in the Curvage Clips where anyone can buy the rest. I'll still be posting my own stuff for free (because I love them and I love reading everyone's comments 🥰). You should definitely write what you think is gonna happen next in this story! All I can guarantee is that Claire is gonna get really, really fat... within one or two chapters 🍑

Chapter One

               “…and rack. Good job Tina! That’s twenty pounds more than last week.”

               “Really?” My client looked back at me, a tired smile tracing across her cheek. “Wow! I didn’t even notice!”

               “See why I told you not to check the plates? You’re a lot stronger than you think.”

               “Thanks Claire!” she stepped away from the squat rack, allowing for the two boys behind us to get started on their sets.

               “Come on, Tina,” I wrapped my clean, firm arms around her sweaty back for a hug. “Let’s go to the lobby and talk about your diet.”

               “Ooh…” she glanced down at her stomach (which, despite being flat, was still doing its best to roll over the hem of her yoga pants. “Do we have to?”

               “Don’t worry about it!” I smiled. “Let’s look at your FitnessPal app and then we’ll be done for the day.”

 

               I sat across from Tina, who glanced absentmindedly around the gym as I checked her food log. Even though she was smiling, I could tell that she was feeling guilty, and as I scrolled through her log, I could see why.

               “So this is everything you had this week?” I asked with a smile.

               “Yep,” she blushed. “Give or take a wine glass over the weekend. I sort of lost track.”

               “Hmm… I handed back her smartphone. “Your carbs-to-protein ratio is skewed.”

               “I know,” Tina chuckled nervously. “I knew I was going to eat-out on Saturday, so I cut carbs out on Friday… I know I ate too much…”

               “Oh no, not at all,” I shook my head. “You hit your calorie goals just fine; you just ate too many carbs.”

               “Oh! Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

               “Have you tried splitting your food groups when you meal-prep?”

               “Oh, not really,” she twirled her finger through a curled lock of brown hair. “I honestly forgot about it.”

               “Don’t worry, it used to be hard for me when I started, but once it became a habit, it became easy.”

               “Really?” she perked up. “I’m pretty jealous. It’s hard to lose pregnancy weight.”

               “It is, but you know I had a baby too?”

               “I never would’ve guessed! You’re so thin and lean!”

               “Thank you!” I beamed. In spite of her comment, I gave my shirt a habitual tug. I knew I was the most toned woman in the room, but that didn’t mean someone might notice that I was a little bloated – at least, I felt bloated.

               “How long did it take?”

               “Well, I can’t lie. I did struggle for a couple months, but once I got into fitness, it took about a month – maybe a month and a half.”

               “Only that long? I never would’ve guessed you had a baby! Aren’t you single?”

               “Yeah…”

               “Oh, sorry,” she bashfully fluttered her fingers under her mouth. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

               “It’s okay,” I sighed as I glanced at the time on my smartwatch. “He’s gone from my life as of eighteen years ago… but that just meant I had more time to focus on my daughter and jogging outside. Speaking of which… looks like it’s almost time for me to pick her up from school.”

               “Oh, okay,” Tina scooted away from the table and tucked her chair in. “I guess I’ll see you next week?”

               “Not so fast!” I raised a finger to stop her. “Did you think I’d forget?”

               “Can it wait?” she groaned with a playful stomp of her foot. “I had a big lunch today.”

               “Don’t worry about it,” I stood up. “You should feel happy whenever you weigh yourself! We’ll do it together. Come on… let’s use the scales in the locker room. We’ll be changing, after all.”

 

               Surrounded by half-clad girls of all shapes and sizes, Tina and I stood by the old-fashioned scale.

               “You didn’t have to take your top off,” I did my best to keep a straight face as I said it, but couldn’t help but giggle.

               “It weighs a bit,” she held her chest closely as two girls gave her weird looks as they walked by. “Doesn’t it?”

               “I suppose,” I shrugged. “Maybe a fraction of a pound or so, but it doesn’t matter much. Don’t worry dear! Go ahead and step on it! I’ll go after you.”

               She chuckled as she placed her bare feet upon the scale. “Dear? I haven’t been called that for a while.”

               “Sorry,” I tapped at the balancing weights with my fingers. “It’s a habit of mine. Comes from dealing with a sassy daughter.”

               “Sassy?” she laughed. “Good grief! And you said it’s been eighteen years? She must be a handful.”

               “You have no idea… let’s see… looks like you’re about 141 pounds.”

               “Really? So I lost weight after all?”

               “Of course you did!” I smiled. “Okay, you can put your top on again. It’s my turn.”

               “Sure,” she stepped aside for me as the scale creaked. “So how much do you weigh?”

               “Don’t you think that’s a weird thing to ask?”

               “You think? But it’s only fair. Besides, we’re both about the same height, so I want to know how much I should weigh.”

               “You’re right. Okiedokie… looks like I’m 126 pounds!”

               A whole extra pound. I guess I was bloated after all – not that Tina had to know that.

               “A hundred twenty-six pounds? I guess I’m exactly fifteen pounds away from where I have to be, then.”

               “Don’t worry too much about the numbers, Tina,” I smiled. “It’ll go up and down a few pounds on its own. Your goal weight will also shift depending on what you’re planning to do.”

               “What do you mean?” Tina asked, slipping her boobs back into her sports bra.

               “Take me for example,” I spread my arms and widened my stance. “For now, 126 is spot-on perfect for me. A 25 inch waist, 36 inch hips, and 36B bra size is the best kind of body for marathon running. Not an ounce of buzzed weight – and no annoying jiggling. But then again, my manager’s hosting a wrestling competition in a few months, and she needs another woman in the 140-150 pound class…”

               “Are you gonna try it?”

               “Oh, not at all!” I laughed. “I’m happy with how I look now, but I’m just saying…”

               “What? You want me to try it? I’m technically the right weight.”

               “Now, now! Why would your trainer try and trick you into gaining weight? Hey, I’ll see you next week, alright? Text me what time works for you!”

               “Bye!”

 

               Hundreds of students weaved their way past my SUV as I leaned over my steering wheel and looked for my daughter. I didn’t have to look long. There she was, wearing her drab dress that went with her black lipstick and eyeliner. She was going through some kind of Goth phase, bless her heart, but only on days that she felt like it. Unfortunately, she always seemed to be in a sour mood whenever she dressed-up.

               “Hey April,” I tried to smile as I activated the rear-door slide. “So how was school today?”

               “Great,” she grunted, dropping her pack behind me.

               I was taking a risk pressing for a conversation, but I tried it anyway. “How about soccer practice?”

               “What about it?”

               “Was it… did you have fun?”

               “I didn’t do practice today,” she huffed as she buckled herself into the shotgun seat.

               “What? Sweetie, it’s two weeks before the next game!”

               “It’s not a big deal.”

               “Honey, your scholarship depends on you doing well in –”

               “I know. I get it. I’m an adult in case you didn’t notice.”

               “I just want you to –”

               “Can we just drive home already?” she folded her arms. “I still got homework to do.”

               I almost raised my voice – I almost mouthed-off my only daughter – but she was right. She’d turned eighteen two months ago, so my baby really was all grown-up, wasn’t she? As much as it hurt to admit it, I only had a few months left with her before she chose which college she would enrol in. I didn’t want to end it all on a bad note; I wanted to enjoy my time with her as best I could.

               As all those thoughts swam in circles through my head, I took my foot off the brake and eased the SUV further through the crowd. April and I didn’t say a word to each other.

 

               Perhaps I could get her to talk to me if I made her dinner? I’d be the first to admit that I’d been skimping on making her meals. With more clients at the gym than ever, it was all I could do to ensure that my meals were prepped. But maybe this once? Just to get her out of her shell? It was worth a shot.

               As I listened to April’s pattering feet upstairs, I rolled-up my sleeves and busied myself in the kitchen. I got the pans ready, setting a couple on the stove and filled them with boiling water. As the green beans and corn got done, I set to work microwaving mashed potatoes and honeyed ham. It was rough work – cooking always made me want to eat before everything was ready – but after half an hour, it was all worth it. A full, scrumptious meal, ready to be set on the table.

               “Honey!” I called, though I heard no answer. “Honey, I made dinner! Where are you?”

               “I can’t come!” April’s feet pounded directly above me.

               “Come down before the food gets cold!” I pointed at the ceiling.

               “One minute!” she screamed.

               Just what had gotten into her? It sounded like she was jumping up and down for Christ’s sake! Was she practicing her soccer passes in her room? I hadn’t had to tell her off about that since she was eleven.

               Oh well. This gave me time to set the table. First I did the plates and silverware, then the various items of food. Should I place the butter too? Good heavens, no. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, and it was getting harder and harder to stay in shape. Almost instinctively, I tugged at my shirt again, self-conscious of my bloated midsection.

               It’s alright Claire, I reminded myself as I placed my hand on my stomach. You’re the only one who’s noticed it. It’ll be gone in a day or two.

               “April!” I called again. “The table’s set! Stop what you’re doing and get down here this instant!”

               “What-ever!” her voice called, footsteps stomping towards the stairs in the adjoining hallway.

               “April,” I planted my hands on my hips. “None of the sass!”

               “I’m not – I mean, don’t call me that! I’m coming, okay?”

               “Just what’s gotten into her?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. But then, as I turned to greet my daughter in the doorway, I learned just what was making her so huffy.

               April glowered in my direction like a berated cat, her gothic attire replaced with a skin-tight soccer shirt and even tighter jeans. I had no problems with what she was wearing, but I did have a problem with her, or more specifically her body.

               April’s stomach – the stomach that had been strengthened and toned by years of sports – was bulging out of her clothes like dough in an oven. The faint hints of abs that I had helped craft with endless core workouts and diet regimens had nearly vanished beneath a round dome of smooth, puffy skin that was pressing her jeans zipper wide open, revealing surprisingly colourful and (heaven forbid) skimpy lingerie. There were only two visible abs left, clinging for dear life above the dome of flab beneath them.

               “April,” I gasped. “What is…”

               “Well?” she shrugged and let her arms slap against her hips (I cringed as I noticed they had inched wider). “You called?”

               “Honey what’s happened to you?” I gawked in disbelief at her small belly as she walked past me. “You’re… you’ve got lovehandles,” I reached out to touch one, but stopped myself. My fitness trainer instincts were in full panic mode.

               “I can’t fit in my jeans, okay?” April huffed. “They don’t fit! None of them do.”

               “Sweetie,” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Why –”

               “Because I’m getting fat Mom!” she wailed angrily. “I’ve gained fifteen pounds and I don’t even… I mean…”

               “Let’s talk about this,” I nervously brushed my hair out of my face as I watched her plop herself at the table. “I can take you to the gym with me. We still have time before –”

               “Before what Mom? Before the season’s over? Well, guess what? They put me on the bench last month! I barely get to play anymore and the training’s optional and Biology’s kicking my ass and Kevin won’t… he won’t…”

               “Honey please,” I tried again. “Let me help you.”

               “But you can’t!” she leaned into the table, shoving her plate away. “You don’t know me! You don’t know what it’s like to get fat! Everyone is…” a little, black teardrop trailed down from the layer of eyeshade coating her face like a raccoon.

               “That’s not true…” I put my hand on her back.

               “You’re a trainer! You’ve never been fat!”

               “That’s not true…”

               “Whatever…” she sniffed. “You wanted to eat dinner? Apparently, I’m good at eating.”

               More than ever, I wanted to press the issue, but in spite of everything, I still wanted our last few months together to be happy. My daughter was going through a dark phase in more ways than one, but I knew that deep down she was still my giddy, blonde little girl. I remembered her first game like it were yesterday, me sitting on the bleachers, cheering as she ran back and forth on the field with a grin so wide that I could see the sun glinting off her braces. I would do anything to bring that smile back on her face.

               “Maybe if you were the one getting fat, you’d get it,” she mumbled into her folded arms.

               “Maybe you’re right,” I said before thinking.

               Like a cat hearing the rustle of her food bag, April perked-up and stared at me curiously. She had such beautiful green eyes. Such big, beautiful eyes. What was this? For the first time today, there wasn’t a trace of anger or frustration in her.

               “What do you mean?” she whispered.

               Regret filled me, but I held it back. Could this be how I solved it? “I mean, you might be right. Maybe I don’t get what it feels like.”

               She was gaping now. I’d never seen her like this before; how long could I keep her teen angst at bay?

               “So…” she was trembling, the poor thing. “You wanna try it?”

               “Try what?” I asked, resisting my instincts to pull away from the topic.

               “Gaining weight,” she blurted.

               “Oh,” I shook my head like she were trying to feed me rotten eggs. “No, not that. I would never.”

               Her eyes grew cold, and she turned away from me to stare at her plate.

               “… what I mean is…” I started over. “I’ve never thought about it before, but maybe you could listen to my idea?”

               “What?”

               “See…” my head was racing, groping for thoughts I had never reached for. “My manager is hosting a wrestling tournament and, well, he needs someone to fill-in for the 140-150lb. class. I’d just… if I gained a few pounds, then I could do that.”

               “You’d do that?” April had twisted her whole torso to face me. I had her full attention.

               “Yes,” I nodded, though I couldn’t fathom what I was saying. “But you’ll have to promise me one thing.”

               “Yes? What is it?”

               “You’ll need to come do some training sessions with me – after class, of course – and you’ll have to lose that extra weight so you can –”

               “Oh, thank you Mom!” she swung her arms wide and gave me a tight hug, burying her face into my side. “Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!”

               “Your welcome dear,” I gave her head a pat.

               What a day. Nothing had gone as expected. But perhaps that was a good thing? I could do to gain a few pounds so long as I tracked what I ate and did extra workouts with my daughter. I’d give the manager a call tomorrow and let her know I’d be ready for wrestling in two months’ time. It’s not like I was going to get fat or anything.

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Guest Mmodine

You must have to do writing within your profession. Or perhaps you’re going to school for it. In 20 years in this community I haven’t seen such a well written and crafted story. 
 

I think Claire is gonna let the wheels come off with trying to make the weight class. She’ll blow through the top end of the range, but her daughter will love that her mom is going from a body she herself is jealous of, to that soft, older, middle-aged mom bod type. Well crafted storyline.

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3 hours ago, Mmodine said:

You must have to do writing within your profession. Or perhaps you’re going to school for it. In 20 years in this community I haven’t seen such a well written and crafted story. 
 

I think Claire is gonna let the wheels come off with trying to make the weight class. She’ll blow through the top end of the range, but her daughter will love that her mom is going from a body she herself is jealous of, to that soft, older, middle-aged mom bod type. Well crafted storyline.

I majored in history and politics, actually. Just like video games, they get laughed at for not giving you marketable skills, but end up teaching you skills no one expected. In my case, I had tough teachers that assigned essays all the time (about sixty pages of assigned writing a semester - I counted 😮). The skill comes up as “marketable” every once in awhile

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10 hours ago, NikeLove1986 said:

How much longer can you make one wait lol this story is awesome 

So... not gonna lie, I was almost done with it, then while I was at my new job, I got hit with a headache that lasted four days 😫 I checked with a doctor and I’m almost sure it was a combination of dehydration and reverting back to a semi-active lifestyle during daylight hours. I’m feeling better now, so I think I can finish those last few pages? 

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1 minute ago, >_< 0_0 said:

So... not gonna lie, I was almost done with it, then while I was at my new job, I got hit with a headache that lasted four days 😫 I checked with a doctor and I’m almost sure it was a combination of dehydration and reverting back to a semi-active lifestyle during daylight hours. I’m feeling better now, so I think I can finish those last few pages? 

Well damn that isn't good im glad your doing better and hope the pain stays away.. cant wait for the story though its a good one maybe even Great 

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10 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

So... not gonna lie, I was almost done with it, then while I was at my new job, I got hit with a headache that lasted four days 😫 I checked with a doctor and I’m almost sure it was a combination of dehydration and reverting back to a semi-active lifestyle during daylight hours. I’m feeling better now, so I think I can finish those last few pages? 

Yikes, sorry about that... at least it wasn't da'rona. Keep that gatorade handy — we need you working!

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11 hours ago, NikeLove1986 said:

We have to pay for it now ?

Yeah, that was the plan for this one. I'll do commissioned stuff from time to time, but everything else I do is for fun. I just wanna be able to go to a publisher and be like "you know, I've published before. I'm sure we can work something out for a full book." These short commissions won't cost more than a couple dollars because I'm more thrilled that people actually love reading these as opposed to becoming rich(er) 💵

6 hours ago, jake69 said:

Really good stuff. Enjoyed the story a lot. 

That's great! If anybody has another story idea, I can make it happen eventually

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Guest jake69
2 hours ago, NikeLove1986 said:

Man you shouldn't of made the first few chapters free if you're plan was to charge people imo.. 👎

Spending two whole dollars is really going to break most people...

LOL

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  • 2 weeks later...
On 6/19/2020 at 6:43 PM, deadman8198 said:

Loved the idea of the story. But is there other options to pay for the story? Cause I'm from EU and I only use debit card here

That’s beyond my realm of understanding Zach Galifianakis Reaction GIF

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