Manhandled by My Personal Trainer (BBW, BDSM, Curvy, Deflowering, Spanking Erotica) Read Free Page B

intensified. Kevin Campbell, inside me. The
thought was enough to make me jolt and quiver in my sleep. But
before I reached a climax as the dream Kevin had instructed I awoke
panting in my youth hostel bed, humping the sheets and about to
wake up my roommates.
    Reflecting on the dream the next morning
intrigued me as much as it worried me. Why was romantically lusting
for Kevin again? Did I really miss him that much? I might have
believed it was just a bizarre meaningless extrapolation of my
subconscious, but when the dream started recurring twice a week I
knew some part of myself was wrestling with my true emotions.
    I missed Paul after he left, but I certainly
kept our tradition alive on my own. The food in that country is
loaded with creamy richness that’s honestly unavoidable. The excess
calories and carbs becomes permanently plastered onto your body by
the alcohol you consume, which is just as prevalent as the
food.
    For three months I ate as if it were without
consequence and engorged myself as often as I could. Yeah, maybe I
was mourning the sudden departure from Paul, and maybe I just felt
like being my natural self at the same time. The day before my
flight back to the states I looked in the mirror and let my new
transformation sink in. My breasts had grown nearly a cup-size, and
my waist was attached to twice as much ass and thighs.
     
     
     
    The day I flew home I greeted my mother at
the airport and acted as if nothing at all had changed. We laughed
over dinner about my trip, and when she asked once at it’s
conclusion if I still planned to go to Kevin’s photo shoot in the
morning I lied and said he found someone else. I wanted to believe
it enough to make it true. That night when I was home I tried
putting on the same work out clothes I wore the day before I left,
and I looked like a complete joke. My spare tire definitely hung
out further than it ever had before, and my arms suddenly looked
doughier than they had in years. I felt comfortable at this size,
but I couldn’t believe myself as the model image for someone’s
career reputation as a personal trainer. I would never accept
curvaceous girl in the mirror as the real me. There was no hiding
the damage I’d done.
    I can say now that I know that I’m weak. I
refused to acknowledge my mistake and own up to it by calling Kevin
to let him know he should hustle to find another student for his
photo shoot. Or even just to let him know he should maybe cancel
the photo shoot all together.
    That day I sat up in my room by myself.
Suddenly completely crippled and immobile. I refused to own up to
what I had done, which made me feel even worse for Paul, which was
guilt I just couldn’t confront. It was too much for me to take, and
it kept getting worse. Suddenly my phone buzzed from Kevin’s
innocent, unassuming text.
    > Hey, haven’t heard from you in a while.
It’s about an hour before the shoot, are you on your way? Hope you
didn’t forget.
    Two missed calls and thirty minutes later my
phone buzzed with yet another helpless plea.
    > Hey is everything alright, Melanie? The
photographer’s ready to go, but there’s no sign of you. Are you
going to make it? Please let me know.
    And at this point I actually broke into
tears. What had I done? Why couldn’t I stop myself form hurting
this person that had been nothing but kind and helpful to me for
years? These were the thinking points of the evening as I sat in my
room refusing to budge.
    Two hours after the photo shoot meeting was
supposed to take place I heard a knock on my door from my
mother.
    “ Mel? Kevin Campbell is on
the phone. He wants to know if you’re ok. What’s this about? What
should I tell him?” I sighed the type of sigh that only comes out
from having realized you’re the worst human being on the
planet.
    “ I’m fine. Tell him I’m
fine,” I whimpered from my locked bedroom.
     

     
    It took me about a week to finally come out
of my awkward social paralysis and accept what I