Something so hot about seeing you adjust yourself and hearing the physical strain of it. I wanna hear the mmmph and you pop you belly up to adjust and the sigh of relief once you are as comfortable as you can be again. And seeing you soothe your tummy by rubbing from the top most point to the bottom of your underbelly? Augh I fucking melt. I wanna hear the heavy breathing and the the soft grunts. And the groaning. I wanna hear you panting from having to adjust your body. I wanna hear you go “mmmphhh” and then turn around and see you alleviating the side of your protruding stomach and taking some deep breaths.
“Ooh oooh oooh that’s a big kick” as you suddenly flinch and start caressing the bottom of your belly 🫠
I wanna hear the breathy “oh my god” and look over and see you rubbing the top, trying to get our baby to calm down inside you.
A content “hmm” as you gently go in circles and admire yourself.
A breathy and strained “Augh help me please” now that you can’t get up on your own anymore.
Seeing you struggle to get comfortable bc your rounding belly is making it more burdensome… you don’t have a totally round belly yet. It’s a bit bottom heavy still. That’s cute tho. It means you have time left to grow.
thinking about a trans guy, staying at his family’s place for thanksgiving and in his early second trimester. belly is starting to round out more and it’s soooo noticeable while he’s naked but can still sort of hide it under his sweaters.
he’s still not ready to share the news quite yet, maybe out of shame or maybe because he’s just not ready for all the baby questions and cooing over him. figured he can still easily keep it hidden but doesn’t realize how hard it is to not put his hand over his growing belly, doesn’t realize he’s supporting his curving back a little with his hand until someone asks if his back hurts, doesn’t realize how his increased appetite is noticeable and each plate of food just makes his baby bump round out more and more until his already tight pants are barely holding on and his relatives are poking his middle… making jokes about holiday weight…
whole time he’s just so conscious of it, the growing weight, thinking about how he’s probably not going to be able to keep little secret hidden when they all meet up again at christmas, after a whole month of his belly rounding out more…
and just like that! christmas arrives faster than the poor pregnant tboy can mentally prepare himself. even if he hasn’t been able to figure out what to say to his family, hasn’t prepped for how embarrassing and overwhelming this news will be, doesn’t mean he didn’t stop growing
now at 18 weeks and carrying a baby that seems to be looking to end up being in the double digits pound wise, he is most clearly swollen with the consequences of his actions. his belly presses against his ugly christmas sweater from last year in a way that’s impossible to hide, pants only buttoned due to a rubber band otherwise would remain undone because of the roundness of his growing middle.
he stands at his parents door step. bag full of presents over his shoulder but it doesn’t feel nearly as heavy as his bump that pushes in front of him, hand cupping it nervously as he waits for the door to open.
and when it does he sees his family faces who answers the door go from excitement at his presence before their eyes drop down to his baby bump, no mistaking what it was and shift to shock all while he feels the gentle kicks from his little accident in his belly and shame color his cheeks. all with just a mumble of merry christmas
clocking in for a twelve hour shift, prepared with my tylenol, energy drinks, and snacks to make it through the day.
but the second i press the button to clock in, i feel my gut twist. i'm stopped in my tracks for a few seconds, but the feeling passes and i walk to my station.
hour one
i feel bloated. my nipples feel like they're chafing against my binder, and my usually-baggy work shirt clings to my sweaty skin. i assume i just neglected to notice a flare-up, and i pop a couple tylenol.
hour two
i'm rocking side to side at my station. a customer asked me how far along i was while i was ringing up their items. my binder feels so incredibly tight, and my shirt has begun riding up. i touched my belly earlier and it felt hard and unyielding. my back is forced to arch to accommodate this new weight, and my hips feel too small all of a sudden.
hour three
every time i look down at myself, my stomach has ballooned out further. i can't see my feet anymore because of the swell. there's so much pressure on my bladder, and while taking a bathroom break, i removed my binder, unable to take the rubbing on my sensitive nipples anymore. the areola are large and dark brown, and the gentlest brush of my fingertips against them made me moan in an unearthly combination of pain and pleasure. standing up from the toilet was a difficult endeavor, and my walk back from the bathroom had become a pronounced waddle.
hour four
standing at my station for any longer feels impossible. i can barely reach the customers' items around the massive growth at my front. a couple of them have asked me when this place will put me on leave. i fake laugh, pretending that this protuberance is the result of overdue triplets, rather than some unknown circumstance. my hips feel far too tight for this incredible weight, and my rocking from side to side is the only thing easing some of the pressure.
hour five
my work shirt is nothing more than a too-small sports bra for my massive tits at this point, having long been outgrown by my belly. i catch myself rubbing it more and more, trying desperately to relieve some of the constant pressure. every time i move, the material of my shirt rubs against my nipples, and it's all i can do to hold back moans. everything feels too much right now. my stomach takes up all of the spare room at my till, and i have to reach more and more to continue doing my job. i don't even know how i'm still standing, and i wonder how i'll manage the waddle to the break room.
hour six
my entire body aches from the strain of my swollen belly. it took me ages to maneuver my heavy body back to the break room, and i feared the cheap plastic chair would break when i lowered myself into it. when i sit, my stomach forces my legs wide apart, and it protrudes out past my knees. i'm so hungry, but my belly feels so full that i can't eat anything. i asked my manager if i could go home and he laughed, seemingly blind to the way my body has grown and morphed in such a short time.
hour seven
my manager yelled at me for how slow i was going from the break room to my station. i stayed silent, not knowing how to explain my situation to someone who seems so blind to it. every step i take is slow and labored, and i am forced to support my towering belly with both hands. every step sends a shockwave through my hips and back, and even standing feels like too much. my body aches. i'm nearly brought to tears from the unending strain on my back.
hour eight
my work shirt has two twin stains on the front, and my tits feel so full that i can't even think. i have to stand a little bit out of my till because of how large the torpedo-shaped belly in front of me is. some customers look at me with concern, while others don't even hide their hungry stares. i can barely rock from side to side anymore with the weight in my tummy. i can feel movement deep inside me, and the pressure as it pushes out against my womb makes me shudder and moan quietly.
hour nine
i fled my station, waddling at a sloth's pace to the "family" restroom, where i lock the door and collapse onto the ground. i pull up my shirt and reach for my tits, intending on milking myself. the first brush of my fingers on my milky nipples makes me cry out in pain, but i fight through it. my inexperienced hands slowly knead my overflowing tits, sending showers of warm milk down my taut belly. when i can't take anymore, i lean back against the wall and rub my full stomach. i know for a fact that i have no chance of standing up, the weight of my overburdened womb keeping me pinned to the ground.
hour ten
now that i'm not doing any work, i can watch my belly continue its constant growth. it touches the ground and spreads my legs more with every passing minute. i can't keep my hands off it, constantly rubbing the tight expanse. moans fall from my lips as the skin continues stretching and growing more sensitive. my arms can't reach around it, and the weight sits heavy in my narrow pelvis, threatening to break me. the movement inside only increases, and i want to sob from the overstimulation.
hour eleven
if i get any bigger, i'm afraid i'll pop. my hips ache horribly from the weight on top of them. it's all i can do to rub the sides of the thrashing dome and moan. i must look comical now, nearly more belly than man. my tits feel like they're the size of my head, and the layer of dark hair on my body does nothing to obfuscate the stretch marks reaching across both breasts and belly. i haven't been able to stop sobbing for the past hour. it's all far too much.
hour twelve
i check my watch at the time i should've been clocking out. but the second i do so, i feel my guts twist. something inside me pops, and the floor beneath me is soaked in clear, scentless liquid. i let out a sob as my body is wracked with cramps.
The only thing I told you was I refused to have a third trimester experience in the summertime. I made you promise not to get me pregnant in the fall so I wouldn’t be heavily pregnant in the summer.
So now here I am, heavily pregnant in the winter. Waddling like a penguin, bundled up, feeling huge because you gave me twins and extra huge because I have to layer up. I can no longer put my own boots on, I need you to help me with it. Without someone to help me slip my boots on, I can’t go anywhere. It takes so much energy to even get dressed it’s embarrassing. Struggling to get buttons and zippers closed on a top on was a lot more effort than it ever had before. I have to suck in as much as possible to close up my jackets. Leaving me huffing for air and needing to take a break afterwards to catch my breath. Now with layers? It takes me two to three times as long. Each time I get dressed I swear it feels a little more constricting than the last time. And my belly pushes out against the fabric even more.
I didn’t want to have to buy a maternity jacket, but it became quickly apparent it didn’t matter what I wanted. Pregnant with twins whenever I sit down the fabric of my clothes gets stretched out beyond what was intended. Seeing videos of moms suck in their bellies and zip up over them had me convinced I could do the same. I could for the tiniest window of time. The moment I sat down I could hardly breathe I was bursting out through the zipper of my jacket as my belly rolled forward.
But getting to eat as much as I want in my third trimester with all the holiday meals? I’m already able to use the belly as my personal table. They say you’re third trimester you grow more than you expect but what about if you get to eat all you want to? Winter is the perfect time to do the two things this two pregnancy has me wanting to do: eat as much as I can & sleep & rest as much as I can.
Nobody stops you from eating all you want when you’re pregnant. And being warm inside, curled up under a blanket with the blanket covering the bump is the perfect day for someone in their third trimester. Or us laying in bed together with your hands on my stomach feeling for movement and to feel how taut and stretched out I feel.
You feed me everything and anything I want, even when I tell you I feel like I’m going to be unable to button or zip off my jackets soon. And that my shirts aren’t just getting too tight. I can’t pull them too cover my belly anymore. Every time I tell you I’ve overgrown something else, you come behind me and lift the twin belly up, giving me and my lower back relief before you take me shopping for something new.
Ive already outgrown 2 jackets and I still have another 6 weeks
Another in my new series, “Women Who Obviously Have a Pregnancy Fetish”. You don’t pose like this or wear outfits like these unless you’re turned on by the way you look.
If you get me pregnant- your lips better be on my belly kissing my bump at every single stage.
I want you kissing my stomach when we find out. Kissing my body and appreciating it while it’s still normal and kissing it in anticipation of all the changes coming.
I want you kissing my stomach when it starts to pop just a little bit. Just enough for you and I to notice before we have told anyone.
I want you kissing my belly as it starts to turn into pudge and my pants fit a little more snug and I get a mufffin top. Give me kisses where I develop that initial soft little bump
I want you kissing my belly when I can no longer do the button or the zipper because I’m officially to big to fit properly into my pants. When Im laying on my back in bed trying to suck it up so I can button my pants shut I want you to interrupt me and caress, rub and kiss my belly. I want to hear how excited you are now that the proof you made deep intense love to me is getting harder to hide.
I want you kissing my belly when it starts peaking through my outfits. When we can longer deny it. As a matter of fact I want you to get on your knees hugging me and kissing the exposed bottom part of my belly that’s peaking through from underneath my shirts. When I’m laying down and my belly is exposed I want you to come and start kissing me.
I need you to kiss me wherever my stomach portrudes due to kicks. I wanna be either laying down or sitting down, legs spread open to make room for my big exposed belly, too big to be comfortably covered by a shirt. I want your hands on my body and your lips kissing me better after each strong kick.
When I reach month 9, the stage where I could be giving birth or a few hours or in a few weeks, that’s when I want the most kisses. I’m the biggest I’ve ever been because of you and I need constant the assurance you still love me and want me. I want kisses everywhere. Under belly, side of bellyache top of belly, front of belly. I barely wear clothes around the house now at all. I’m always so exposed. I want you to come behind me, lift my belly, alleviate my back and kiss my neck and whisper sweet nothings to me. I want your kisses to show me you still desire me. I want you to carry my belly and kiss my neck and between kisses beg me to let you get me pregnant again. Beg me to consider having another one. Beg me to let you do this to me again.
When I first met you you were almost 3 months pregnant. You weren’t showing yet and you told me because you just had to tell someone and you figured I didn’t know anybody in your life. You were having twins and you asked if I could tell you were pregnant yet. You stood with your clothes on normally and asked. I said “not really no.” and then you pulled your lose shirt in tightly against your midsection. “What about now?”
“Yeah a little. Kinda looks like a bump from booting though if I didn’t know you were pregnant. But I can see the bump forming and popping out under your belly button because I know that I’m looking for it. I feel like bumps kinda start out ‘bottom heavy’ like under the belly button is what begins to pop out and round out first. You can still hide it”
“I go back and forth between wanting to hide it for as long as I can because I know I can’t hide it forever. And with two in there, who knows. In two weeks I might have grown big enough to not be able to hide this anymore”
I saw you again at five months. Your pregnant body had definitely developed. You had moved on from a bump that looked like I could cup with my hand into a rounded out belly that was clearly in the process of popping out. Your stomach had started to grow forward. I saw you struggle to reach for a cup for me in your cabinets above your kitchen counter. Before you could just reach up and grab it. But now you’re big enough that your belly pushed you a few inches backwards and in order to reach it, you sucked in your baby belly and got on your tip toes to get it. It was cute. When you relaxed back down your belly popped back out from being sucked in and you took a couple of deep breath to catch your breath. One hand supporting your lower back and the other rubbing the side of your midsection in circles. “Oooof these kicks are becoming more regular. I don’t think they liked me sucking them in and smooshing them more than they already are. To me it feels like they are taking up all the space though”
You hugged me and your growing twins pressed into my body gently.
Then I saw you again at 7 months. You were really big now. And struggling. Struggle to waddle. Get up and down. Flip over in bed. Get in and out of the car, sit in restaurants booths. Struggling to catch your breath mostly. It felt like you always had a hand on your belly. They moved a lot and you were constantly soothing them. Sometimes their kicks would come out so far and you’d wince and contract your stomach in knee jerk reaction.
With two inside you the bottom one your belly had truly rounded out. Clothes was getting harder to fit into. Your belly always hung too low or shot out forward too much for clothes to have a hope in covering it. You were self conscious. I could tell. Your hands were constantly reaching forward to the front of your belly toward your belly button and feeling where the bottom of your shirt was. From what I could tell you were always trying to make sure the bottom of your shirts weren’t riding up to expose the bottom of your round stomach. You told me that this was probably the last time you were going to wear this shirt because you were outgrowing it.
Then I ran into you shortly before you were due. You were waddling slowly around in the store. Your hips had widened and your belly had dropped. Your legs simply couldn’t move the same as when you weren’t pregnant. With two inside of you you were struggling to breath and had your bladder smooshed all the time now. You were big enough that the front of your belly often now entered a room a couple seconds before the rest of you did.
You always had a hand on your belly. Sometimes subconsciously without even realizing it and other times to soothe hard kicks. You told me about how much harder eveything had become. Rocking backs and forth in order to get up. Worrying that you only had a few days left before you wouldn’t be able to drive yourself because your seat wouldn’t go back far enough. Feeling the steering wheel press up against your belly button. Not being able to bend over for anything. Wearing slip on shoes and dresses. Feeling like you just needed so much more space just to exist.
And then you asked if I remembered what you looked like so many months ago. When it was just a little hidden bump. “Did you think I’d get this big?”
in a massive rapidpreg mood rn. when im sat at my desk its level with my stomach..
just going about my day and suddenly it's pressing into my stomach. i just lean back a little, must be a bit bloated, is all.
but then its back again, even though I haven't leaned forwards. still, obviously it's just bloating! I can just wheel my chair back a little
just filling out and out into the space each time i have to shuffle back. by the time i Really notice it im far past anything written off as bloating, noticeably gravid...
I've been thinking about that lush, middle stage of pregnancy. 5-6 months. undeniably pregnant, rounded out and getting heavy, but still erring on hideable.
covering up with a few layers despite the heat. and while that stops other people noticing, it doesn't prevent the kicking and rolling in your womb.
ideally it's twins. they're big, too. but you can still convince people it's just a beer belly, some winter weight you haven't shaken. just hoping that they don't push against the sweater you're hiding them in.
A lot of people ask my why/how I hid my first pregnancy in college. I was a freshman, just 18, and wildly innocent. Knocked up by my first. By Christmas break, and finals, I knew I was pregnant but hadn’t told anyone except the dad who didn’t care.
When school returned after break, I was terrified of people finding out. I thought I might be kicked from the dorms or something. So I told no one. And for a while, it was easy. Just a tiny bloat under my sweatshirt.
But then I popped around twenty weeks. No jeans fit. I grew several bra sizes. And I was hungry all the time.
By spring, I was six months with a pretty round belly. I still wore sweatshirts and loose tops even though I was expanding and the baby kicked all the time. Though no one knew, I secretly felt whole. Sexy with my new curves and growing secret. Around this time, I finally told my roommate.
For spring formal, I went with a guy from class and wore a loose dress. Afterwards, he told me he wanted to take me back to his room and I caved in and told him what I had been hiding. But he responded well and wanted to see my belly bare and still wanted to hook up. For the first time in my life, I realized others thought I was sexy preggo not just me. I continued to hide, not out of necessity, but out of the thrill of wondering if people noticed my new curves and shape and were secretly into it.
I completed finals at around seven-and-half months. At this point, it was hard to hide my belly in loose tops. I remember standing up and trying to pull myself out of my desk one day and noticing several people had their eyes on my belly. I just smiled and walked away.
That summer I stayed on campus and took summer classes. That’s when I gave up hiding. It was so hot and all I could manage to wear was tank tops and a few pairs of stretchy shorts. I would waddle to class, out of breath, and squeeze into my desk. My belly filled out the desk, rubbing against the top of the table.
The best part of the experience was walking into my first day of summer classes and wearing skin-tight clothes, my belly rounder than a basketball. Everyone couldn’t believe what I had been hiding. I held my belly and felt proud.
When I got pregnant again a year later, I knew I wanted to do the same thing again. Grow with my secret. Keep people wondering. With twins, it’s a new challenge, though…seeing how long I can hide as I’ll be a few weeks away from my due date by finals.
You pull up your oversized hoodie and look at yourself. You realize that your little secret can no longer be hidden. That “oversized” hoodie is not so oversized anymore and your stretchy pants aren’t so stretchy anymore. It’s all because of your burgeoning baby belly that used to be so small and easy to manage. But now it’s creeping slowly outwards, becoming rounder and fuller with each passing day.
You didn’t want people to know you were bred. It was just one time, one little innocent night when you threw caution to the wind and decided to forgo the burden of condoms and birth control. And that innocent night was followed by two solid lines on a pregnancy test.
Staring at this growing belly, you can’t help but smile and admire yourself. You look at your side profile and admit it looks kind of cute. Maybe it’s finally time to admit to yourself, and to the world, that you have a baby growing in you and there’s no point in hiding. After all, you’re going to be huge and heavy soon, waddling down the street for all to see. You’ll be wondering why you ever bothered to keep it a secret in the first place
If you could control absolutely every aspect of a pregnancy - size, rate of growth, duration, fetal movement, etc. - what'd be your ideal 💕
Goddddddd, okay. I've said before, but the appeal of not even realizing what's happening until something starts moving, then just doesn't stop is crazy, and I will never not enjoy that. Under read more because It's Longer.
That said, I wanna be relaxing, maybe putting dishes away or something equally mundane. And then it just starts. What started it? Who knows. Maybe a fertility God wants to put my empty womb to work in exchange for a boon in return. And I do notice I'm starting to feel full. Like I ate a big meal, but it's a bit confusing because I knew I still needed to eat lunch. Then I glance and lift my shirt a touch and see I do look like I've had a full meal. I raise a brow and let my shirt drop back down, continuing to put the dishes away. It's probably just bloating from hormones or something. I was normal a few minutes ago anyway.
Then I'm almost done putting away the dishes, which takes maybe five more minutes. Then I have to fully bend down to get the last thing outta the bottom rack, and I can feel my stomach touch my thighs when I go at ninety degrees. When I stand back up, I nearly drop the dish I'm holding because I'm- really bloating? I put the dish on the counter, and I look down at my belly, now visibly pushing against my shirt. I stare, and I can almost swear it's - stretching my shirt further? The longer I stare, the more I'm certain as the fabric goes from taunt to the beginning of strained. I pull my shirt up in bafflement. And stare down at my now, definitely rounding out middle.
I'm almost wondering if I should rush my ass to the hospital. Maybe my liver failed or something stupid like that. Then I start to feel flutters? It's slight and barely noticeable, but it's definitely there. I drop my shirt and think this is probably an emergency room visit at least. So I make my way to my room to get pants on and shoes so I can go.
By the time I get my shoes on and my pants on my legs, I run into my next problem. I can not bottom my jeans. I logically assume I can't get any bigger than this. Certainly. So I suck in what little I can and button them. The button holds and I grab my wallet and start looking for my keys and again its only been five minutes later and the button snaps. I jolt because I'm not expecting it and look down as my stomach drops now that my waistband isn't restraining it.
And- It definitely wasn't hanging that much before I had just buttoned my jeans- right? Before I could pass for fat now that I'm getting heavier on the top, and my belly button is so flat it's almost like-
The slow drag of the sensation of something dragging inside my stomach makes me grunt. I can only watch as whatever it is leaves a visible bump on the outside of my rounded middle.
What the fuck. I'm-
As soon as I realize it, it happens again as if to remind me- Yes. This was very much what was happening right now in my belly- no in my womb.
I'm pregnant. I don't know how or what, but I'm pregnant, and whatever it is is now moving. And it's not stopping - my taunt middle shifts to left, then right slightly with the amount of slow rolling movements. What the hell - What the hell. I back up as if it'll make my belly get farther away from me and bump into the edge of my bed. I sit down and watch as it continues slowly, undulating.
This can't be happening - a harsh kick happens, and my poor belly button is forcibly turned into an outtie. Popped and fat now as if completing my status of heavily pregnant. It sits barely peaking out of my shirt, which now refuses to touch the start of my jeans. I gasp and rest my hands on my middle- on my pregnant belly- and I physically feel the movement under my palm. This is actually happening, how in the actual hell- I groan when the movement slowly increases to more rolls. I stare down at watch as the seconds and minutes slowly roll by and my belly slowly and slowly starts growing outwards more and more. I pulled my shirt up so it wouldn't rip in front of me.
I watched in real time as a heavy dark line formed on the heaviest part of my middle. As my womb only got heavier and heavier, refusing to stop. I sighed hard and leaned back - and I can physically hear something slosh in my belly- no womb? What the fuck? Am I just- carrying an audible amount of amniotic fluid or something? Who the hell carries- My stomach groans loudly definitely unhappy it's been forced to adjust this much so quickly.
My belly is just so heavy on my own inner thighs I have to spread them and it doesn't wait to fall between my legs with how much it weighs. I pant trying to stay calm because what the fuck else can I do? Then I suddenly notice my sports bra is digging into my chest. I look down to physically see the next small growth spurt my chest has and audibly hear the strain of the stitches on my bra- Jesus christ- and then my shirts wet and milk is leaking at a heavy rate down my front. Oh okay of course because why not!
I groan, and so does my bed when my belly starts to hang off the end of the bed. Now too large to stay sitting with me. It just has to grow even further - the moving is now constant - a roll a kick and slow drag - my absurdly large pregnant belly was now a constant source of life. Absolutely no denying what was under the surface of what was in my womb- of how many- this much movement couldn't have possibly been twins- hell it couldn't possibly be triplets!
My stomach gurgled unpleasant, and a sloshing of something sounded when it moved again, and I could only grab at it as it only kept getting heavier. My ridiculously pregnant belly would have easily touched my knees if I had kept them closed. My chest wobbled forward again my shirt was forced to stretch around it and quickly became an ill-fitting crop top. I stared until my now fatter areolas started peaking out of the sides of the fabric.
My belly groaned and kept shifting now in slow but ever encompassing waves. I looked back up and almost groaned because my belly was even bigger again- I bit my bottom lip as milk sprayed so hard it jetted out through my shirts fabric.
And then my belly just stopped growing forward. I huffed in heavy breaths and grabbed at my noisy stuffed belly. The skin continued to shift slow but heavily. I whined my tits now so large my shirt and sports bra were merely lewd after thoughts. The fabric only covering my now thick hard nipples. My areolas were freely out and exposed to air. Milk ran down the front of my skin.
I waited with baited breath, but it didn't continue to grow. I huffed near delirious - you could fit probably two grown adults in my stomach from the mere size of it! I cursed and tried to remember where I put my stupid phone before I got to my room.
But my stomach gurgling and shifting again made it hard for me to focus...
At first you think, no problem. You wear big t shirts, loose sweatshirts, and baggy jeans with a loose waist band. But eventually your bump starts to show through even a thick sweater, and your pants dont want to fit around your widening waist and hips. You know you can't hide your growing belly anymore when you get asked for the first time- "when are you due?" You can't hide what you did any longer. Your visibly pregnant belly tells everyone everything they need to know. You opened your legs for a cock and let someone claim you, and let them fill your tummy with their cum. They'll know you're a desperate slut, and your cute little belly only proves it.
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