"Hop on, muffin top!" My riding instructor, Tana said to me as she came walking up with a beautiful bronc. "Ain't she gorgeous?" Tana gushed. "I guess," I had no real interest for this kind of thing. "Just 'I guess'?" She sighed, annoyed. "I think all those donuts are getting to your brain cells," she joked, poking my belly. "Stop!" I yelled. Okay, so maybe a was a bit overweight. That's no reason for her to pick on me. I can't even walk around without someone mentioning "you should lose weight," or "too much carbs." It was getting unbearable. Most girls here have flat bellies. Not me. Not even an ounce of it.
I got on, my belly resting on the horse. I hated that they made us wear skimpy clothing. "So, you'll need to-" she droned on and on, me tuning her out. I stared at a man, about my age who walked in, shirtless. He had tight abs and was wearing jeans with a bandana attached to the side. He had blue eyes and blonde hair. I know, pretty stereotypical. He winked at me, and went back to carrying the hay into the horse stalls. "Ready?" I heard my Tana sat. "Wh-" before I knew it, the bronc, named Strike quickly ran towards the fence. I screamed at the top of my lungs. "HELP!" I suddenly fell off of the horse and fell hard on the earth.
Will you be okay? Who is this man? Find out in the next chapter of: Southern Chub.
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Southern Chub
RandomYou, Vienna Hampton, are a 14 year old girl leaving in the blazing Texas. Your parents want you to learn how to ride your first bronc, but you have different feelings. You see, your a chubby girl. Muffin top, large bottom, and breasts and even cellu...
