Idk

23 I’m a real person I just suck at bios and stuff NSFW acc, minors DNI

[hysteric-boy]

Owner whining out “good boy” as his pup fucks him rougher than he needs to. Biting down hard into his shoulder, digging nails into his hips, thrusting hard into him. Every thrust punching out another gasp and groan.

“Good boy, good boy good boy good boy oh fuck!!”

[screamingandwhelping]

What if: Werewolf pinning down a potential mate and whelping on them as a show of dominance?

My alpha pins me down in the sun-dappled leaves with his front paws, snarling, his fangs snapping dangerously close to my ear. His body trembles and I know he’s in pain, but all he shows outwardly is anger. He lowers his knees to the ground on either side of my hips, and he hovers his naked pelvis over me. His eyes bore into mine.

“Fuck you,” he hisses, teeth clenched.

“Do you need to push?” I ask. I know his tell-tale signs of resistance. He holds off as long as he can but some things are inevitable.

He snaps so close to my eye that I feel his hot breath. Birthing fluid drips out of his pussy onto my bare cock, and I begin hardening.

“You won’t do this to me again,” he growls.

“I won’t,” I agree, and reach down to cradle his oversized belly in my paws. He tries to pull away, but he’s too deep in his labor pains—if he shifts and loses his concentration, his body will start pushing for him.

“You need to push out my pups,” I say.

“They are my pups!” he roars, and bites down on my shoulder.

I yelp. It hurts, but he’s barely piercing my skin. He’s in far more pain than me—and I inflicted it on him. He deserves to inflict a little on me.

His hairy belly goes taut beneath my paws. He whines around a mouthful of my shoulder. I reach up and clasp one paw against the back of his neck, pulling him close to me.

“Push,” I whisper. “Your litter needs to be whelped.”

He pulls in a wheezing breath, then another, then a third, and then he closes his eyes, teeth clamped in me, and pushes.

“Hurts,” he slurs, voice muffled.

“Push again.”

“No.”

“Push again.”

He yanks his mouth out of me and snarls in my face with bloodied teeth. “No!” But then his expression crumples and he tucks in his chin as his body forces him to push.

“I-I’m crowning,” he stammers. “Oh gods—oh my gods.” He squeezes his eyes shut, his entire frame shuddering with the effort.

This is the part I live for. Well, I live for all of it—the breeding, the knotting, every night while we try for another litter. The positive pregnancy test and the wild, hormonal pregnancy sex that follows soon after. His increasingly gravid belly, growing every day while we wonder how many pups I put in him this time—and how big. The first twinge of labor, the pacing and the panting. The stripping when he gets too hot. The water breaking. Then his rage, boiling over as the pain proves too much for him; but he’s too proud to admit it, so instead he attacks. The chase. The grapple. The short fall to the woodland floor. But this moment, the moment of crowning, when the pain is unbearable and he can’t conceal it any longer—the moment the mask slips and he loses control and I see his vulnerability, more naked than even his body.

“Oh my gods!” he shrieks, and he lowers his pelvis down until it almost touches my cock and whelps out the first pup onto my lower belly. I slide the pup up my body and cradle it to my chest, clearing birthing fluids from its mouth and nose while it squirms.

“Good boy, good boy,” I murmur.

“Don’t call me that,” he says, teeth bared.

“I’m talking to your pup,” I say, and set the pup down in the leaves beside us. It’s a girl pup, but he can’t tell from his angle. I rub his hip encouragingly. “Do you need to push again?”

“I don’t know,” he moans. “I can’t—I can’t tell.” Then his belly ripples. He throws back his head and unleashes an agonized howl.

“Push, baby,” I say.

He sits back on his haunches, gripping his belly with both paws, howling desperately. I can see his pussy bulging out with the second pup. It’s not crowning yet, but the bulge is already huge.

“Do you need help?” I ask, rising up on my elbows.

His eyes fly open and he slams me back into the ground.

“You fucker!” he spits. “You think I can’t do this on my own?” And then his eyes roll back and he pushes, hard. I don’t know if he’s purposefully trying to prove himself or if he just can’t resist the inevitable urge.

His pussy keeps bulging, then finally I can see the top of a teardrop shape opening up.

“You’re crowning, baby,” I say. “Keep going.”

A long, sustained whine spools from between his gritted teeth, eventually morphing into a weak howl. I feel fluids on my belly and look down.

“The head is out.” I touch his arm. “One more big push for me.”

He lowers his head onto my bloody shoulder and wraps both hairy arms around my neck, tangling his paws in the leaves in the process. He lowers his pelvis and pushes. The big pup hits my belly and the fluids it was holding back sluice over it and me. It’s heavy.

“Is it out?” he whispers, so faintly I can barely hear him even though his mouth is a hairsbreadth from my ear.

“It’s out, baby. That was a big pup.” I pick up the pup by blind feel alone. It lets out a whimper, so I know it’s breathing. I set it on the leaves around where I think I placed the first pup, but I can’t quite see with my alpha’s arms enveloping my face.

“Oh gods,” he moans. “I need to push again.” He bites into my sore shoulder, but it’s a lighter touch this time. He lets out a muffled scream as he pushes and whelps the third pup into my waiting paws.

“That was easy,” I say, hoping he can hear the grin in my voice.

He probably can, but he growls at the joke. I carefully reach up and touch his gaping pussy. He twitches but doesn’t pull away. I use my other paw to feel his belly.

“You’re still pretty big,” I say. “I think you have over half the litter left.”

He slumps against me, still elevated slightly on his knees so he doesn’t crush the pups waiting in his womb. His breath washes over my ear in short pants.

“I can’t,” he whispers. “I can’t do it.” But his belly hardens under my paw and I feel his pussy begin to bulge into my other paw.

“Good boy,” I whisper. “Just like that.”

He doesn’t admonish me for using the pet name.

He spends several minutes weakly pushing on the fourth pup, but he’s making progress. His pussy buds further and further into my paw until finally blooming into a crown.

“You’re crowning,” I say, and he clasps my neck tighter. I feel him take a deep breath, hold it, and give a big push. I catch the pup as he births it out. I barely have time to set the pup to the side when he whelps again onto my belly. He moans piteously and suddenly whelps the sixth on top of it.

“Are they out?” he asks. “Are they all out?” He lifts his head, finally, to look at the litter laid out beside us.

“Not yet, baby,” I say. “The last two were so small—feel your belly.”

He reaches down to touch his belly, much smaller but still gravid.

I pet his cheek. “You’re still pregnant.”

He bares his teeth at me, but it’s half-hearted. He sits back on his haunches again and I reach up to hold his belly for him. He sighs as the pressure eases and raises his face to the trees above.

“Sunset,” he says. “When did we get here?”

“This afternoon.”

“When did I go into labor?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Fuck,” he says. “This gets fucking harder every time. And the litters are bigger than they used to be.”

“The first three litters were four each,” I say. “I almost started to think we’d always have four.”

He chuckles, then stiffens and closes his eyes. I can feel his muscles strain, and my eyes drift to his pussy. He’s bulging. Neither of us make a sound as his pussy begins to open to crown the seventh pup. He strains, strains, and then releases and opens his eyes as he whelps onto my belly. I pull the pup against my chest and clear its face before setting it aside. By the time I’m done he’s crowning again, and the head comes out. But then he stops.

“Help me,” he whimpers.

My heart squeezes. He’s never let me help him. “You want me to pull it out?”

He doesn’t look down at me or even open his eyes. He’s just trembling. “Yes.”

I place my paws on either side of the pup’s head and begin gently moving it side to side, pulling with a firm pressure as I do. He begins to moan, but he doesn’t tell me to stop, so I don’t. He tips back his head and howls, long and slow, barely helping me by pushing as I pull. He’s exhausted. The pup finally falls out of him and he collapses on his side in the leaves next to me, opposite the side with the newborn pups.

“Oh my gods,” he whines. “It just hurts. It hurts so bad.” He wraps an arm around his belly. “I still feel another pup moving inside me,” he says. He raises his leg weakly before it falls back down. “Help me…”

I sit up and prop his leg against my shoulder. “Push, baby,” I say. “It’s almost over. We never have to do this again.” But there’s a pang inside me at my own suggestion.

He glares up at me. “I didn’t say that.”

He had, but a grin spread across my face. “Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”

“You’ll do it tonight,” he growls, his eyes boring into me. “I’m pushing this last pup out and then you’re pushing your knot into me.”

I flash my teeth at him in a cheeky grin. “Whatever you say, baby.”

He tucks in his chin and presses his foot into my shoulder and pushes. He paused as the contraction ends, panting, then as the next contraction crests he pushes again. He bulges on the third contraction, crowns on the fourth, and whelps on the fifth. Nine pups.

“You almost beat our record for biggest litter,” I say.

“Shut the fuck up and breed me,” he says, panting and sweating in the leaves.

So I do, as the sunset fades and the purple cloak of night envelopes us. I breed him hard, feeling his birth canal contracting around my cock while his body makes sure he’s finished whelping. He cums, and in a few more strokes I cum and push against him as my knot swells to almost fill him. My knot always feels small right after he gives birth.

If all goes well, we’ll be back out here in six months while he pins me down and whelps on top of me, swearing that he’ll never let me do it to him again.

But he will let me. Some things are inevitable.

[crowninginmypanties]

Hey bro… wanna go to the club and kiss pregnant boys while they whelp in our laps?

Fuck yeah bro, I’m absolutely in the mood to let a gorgeous little twink crown hard into my waiting hands… we should double team one too, you can fuck him and I’ll suck his dick while he whelps a whole litter right in my face…

[crowninginmypanties]

Bro, please! Please move your hand! I have to whelp!

Oh, you can whelp as hard as you need to, pretty boy, but this hand isn’t going anywhere…

But… I… can’t… stop!!!!

Then don’t, baby boy. Keep whelping that huge pup right into my hands until I’m done enjoying the moment. And don’t forget you have 9 more pups to go…

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Unfortunately didn’t make it to the bed, baby was already coming out and I had no choice but to deliver. The damn leggings made it so much more difficult, forcing the head to retreat after each push, but I didn’t have time to take them off!

[shhhsecretsideblog]

@aboygottapush said to stop pushing so I could deliver in my bedroom. I tried to move, but baby was so fucking low…

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Unexpectedly went into labour last night, so grateful to have had @aboygottapush to help me through it 💜

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Things progressed so fast and @aboygottapush told me I was already starting to push right there on the living room floor!

[aboygottapush]

She’s here!

I can’t believe it! @enbypreggers ‘s baby girl is finally here! She weighs 10lbs 4oz and is a healthy little girl.

[aboygottapush]

Oh my god… baby’s almost out…

[aboygottapush]

The heads out!

[aboygottapush]

Made it to the bed… baby is right there.. I feel it bulging…

[aboygottapush]

So close… bed is right there,.. god I have to make it!

[pushingecstasy]

Don’t Pull Over!

Visit Original Link

This car birth audio was so fun to make. I took the many requests to be louder, so beware of volume! 🩵

[miserybizzy]

making a sub top whine and beg for the opportunity to fuck you and cooing in his ear about what a good boy he's being and edging him while listening to the sounds of his desperate whimpers and moans mmmmph

[dilfpregcentral]

im peanut brittle guy uhhhh. um. I love medieval times trans guys hehe.... maybe orgasmic birth denial? :3 -👽🛸

(A request for anon that donated to my short-lived ko-fi. Thank you king 🙏)

This got me thinking of a classic medieval knight… When he’s inducted into the royal guard, his agreeable personality and keen sparring instinct make him an instant favorite among the other knights. So, it’s no surprise when one of them invites him to his bunk to blow off some steam after a long day patrolling; without much time for romancing maidens, it’s not unusual for the knights to find release with their fellows.

What is unusual is the tight, wet pussy between the new knight’s legs, and the perky little tits that bounce so cutely on his chest when he arches his back and groans to be fucked harder. Word spreads quickly through the barracks, and soon all of the guardsmen are flocking to him, aching to try him.

Our knight ends up heavy-eyed and sleepy during his long patrols, but the others cover for him—after all, they know it’s their fault he’s so poorly rested, since he spends most of his off-duty time pressed between the firm, sweaty bodies of multiple men. Especially after a battle, they often spear him open on two cocks at once, his head bouncing limply on one of their strong shoulders while he whimpers and jerks with the latest in a countless number of orgasms.

His fellow knights are gentlemen, of course, and always pull out, even washing him clean after they stripe his belly and thighs with their seed. But with so many needy, dripping cocks fucking so deep into him, it’s only a matter of time before a slight swell appears just above his hipbones, and he shyly confirms to his questioning lovers that his blood has ceased coming.

The barracks buzz with excitement, musings about who sired the child going quickly by the wayside as each one finds himself caring for the pregnant knight as if he were their husband, and his womb ripening with their own seed. Even those that are at first skeptical of a man bearing a child come around when they lay their hands on the tiny curve of his belly for themselves. As far as anyone is concerned, the child belongs to all of them.

At first, the evidence of the knight’s pregnancy is nothing but a palm-sized bump, detectable only by his most intimate partners. But soon, his growing womb fills out the tunic that was once loose on him, not yet eye-catching, but certainly visible to those who care to look. His chest, too, begins to prepare for the child, tiny tits rounding into tender breasts that must be squeezed into the confines of his chain mail. When his fellows help him out of his armor at the end of a watch, several helpers always stand by, ready to massage his aching breasts, or knead his burdened back, or press their face into his swollen pussy until his tense joints hang pleasure-limp.

His armor seems to grow heavier at the same rate as his womb, his joints straining beneath the combined weight. He struggles, too, to fulfill his duties while so much of his vigor goes straight to forming the babe in his belly. When one day he finally succumbs to his delicate condition and collapses near the end of his watch, the captain of the guard—who has gone to bed with him as often if not more than most of the other guardsman—has him moved to guard the throne room.

Standing on his swollen feet all day still exhausts him, but outside of the occasional uncomfortable shifting as his body aches and his child moves, he draws no attention to himself there. His armor manages to conceal his pregnancy even as his time grows closer—though he imagines the blacksmith who fashioned his cuirass chose its barrel shape to provide empty space for absorbing the impact of enemy swords, not as a vessel to be packed tight with a pregnant belly and milk-swollen breasts. It’s a tight fit, forcing his gut high enough that the child shifts backwards, a strain on his lower spine. They don’t take well to the limited space, protesting with sharp kicks that pinch the wall of his belly against the armor. He longs to rub soothing hands over his bump, but he wouldn’t dare do such a thing while on watch, even if he could reach his belly through the metal.

As the weeks pass, he keeps distending, his child a foreboding point of pressure deep in his pelvis. His belly begins to droop low, and he can’t keep his hands off the raw, stretched skin, scratching at fresh stretch marks and wincing at the growing web of tender veins. The other knights handle him lovingly, often appearing behind him to hold up his belly for a few minutes. In bed, their affections grow gentle, and the pregnant knight becomes accustomed to strong hands caressing his aching breasts while someone’s hard cock grinds ever so gently between his legs, not quite inside him, but giving his clit more than enough friction to have him cumming with a mewling cry.

Finally, he wakes one morning to a great pain in his gut. He screws his eyes shut and clutches the tense surface of his belly, trying to breathe through it without waking his bedmate. When it passes, he rouses the other knight, who helps dress him for his watch. When it comes time to lift his belly as high as he can and compress it against his body so that he can get his armor on, he clenches his jaw and pants through his teeth. His lover, waiting with the cuirass at the ready, asks if he’s okay. He says he will be once he’s dressed.

But that isn’t the case at all. His belly barely fits in the armor anymore, forcing the baby in and down until a terrible pain envelops his pelvic cradle, far worse than his daily aches in these last months. The head of his child feels so, so low.

He prays that the babe will wait to come until his watch ends. In response, another contraction lances through his belly and into his lower back. He barely swallows back his whimper.

But he must fulfill his duty.

He takes his place in the throne room, grateful that his helm conceals the winces and twists of his features as he struggles to endure labor in silence. But it becomes so hot beneath the metal, heady and claustrophobic. He longs to turn and bend over, to hang onto the knight behind him as he rocks his hips. He wants to pace, and groan with his whole chest, and rub his tensing belly.

Hours pass. Vaguely, the knight is aware that if there were an emergency, he would be no help to the king, at this point. All he wants is to be back in his chambers, on his hands and knees, with a midwife comforting him.

When the urge to push overwhelms him, he knows it won’t be much longer. He tries not to, but his body needs it, tugging on the muscles in his belly, tempting his reflexes. He can only resist for so long before finally he indulges in a small push. His mouth falls open as he feels the head of his child lodge suddenly deeper within him, surely passing from his womb into his pussy.

The progress is intoxicating, and he forgets himself after that, pushing as hard as he’s able without moving too much. It’s easier than he thought to stay quiet, the effort stealing his sound from his throat. When a particularly forceful push makes him feel like the head is coming out of him, he finally lets a sound slip, the softest of grunts.

“Is it the child?”

The whisper comes from behind him, a knight much older than him who likes to press extra fingers into his cunt and thumb at his clit when he rides on top.

“Yes,” he breathes, loud as he dares. “It’s- coming out. I think it’s coming out of me.”

Suddenly there’s a hand between his legs. He barely swallows his yelp, a sudden warmth coursing through his body as the large hand feels his cunt through the his trousers. He finds himself very grateful that his tabard hides this impertinence from the court.

“Nothing is coming out,” the knight assures him calmly.

How could that be? “Then soon. I— hng!” He must bite his tongue to keep his cry at bay as the vice closes around him once again, urging the child ever-lower. More heat bubbles up within him as the head fills his pussy and creates pressure behind his clit.

“Oh.” Awe softens the gruff whisper behind him. “I feel it. It’s stretching you.”

“It’s big,” he whispers, struggling not to squirm where he stands. He didn’t expect it to feel like this. It hurts, yes, so much he can hardly bear it, but- this pressure on his most sensitive place… he chews his lip.

With his next push, something gives inside him, a sensation he can’t quite place. Then his thighs begin to grow warm, and he understands. There’s a slight flinch from the hand between his legs, but it steadies again, his fellow knight clearly understanding what’s happened. The babe feels even lower, though there’s less pressure now, somewhat relieving that strange feeling he’s had.

It feels as if barely a minute passes before he contracts again, and he lets his chin fall ever so slightly with the effort of his push. He knows that he shouldn’t do this, that if a babe drops from between his legs before the whole royal court, he’ll be found out and imprisoned, or at the very least stripped of his knighthood. But he can’t help it. He must push, as vital as his breath.

And what a push it is, heaving the head low and making his mouth fall open as the awful stretching pain ignites into the worst agony he’s ever experienced. The pressure, too, increases somehow, right against that special place. His clit, already rendered to a sharp point of pain, begins to twitch and swell all the more.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes against his visor. Ever so slightly, he rocks his spreading hips and his baby-filled cunt back against his fellow’s hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I feel it. It’s huge. I can’t believe that’s coming out of you.”

Neither can he. Desperately, he wishes to scream, or drop into a squat, or lay back on the floor and pull his legs as far apart as he can get them. He’s almost relieved when the next contraction comes.

He pushes so hard that his thighs tremble, and wheezes through his teeth as he crowns into his lover’s hand, cunt burning, pressure growing. God, it really feels like he needs to…

No, this isn’t the time. He puts everything he has into breathing without making too much sound, the air thick and thin at once in the confines of his visor.

The next one comes, and the sensation in his clit winds sharper, making him instinctively squeeze his legs together. For a moment he feels like the head is about to burst out behind his thighs, but the knight’s hand stays firm, and the head simply bobs where it is, an instant of relief before it returns to a full crown.

“Hah- aah—“ He feels drool tickle one corner of his mouth. His lover holds the head just-so, keeping his cunt stretched to its absolute limit, burning all the way back towards his arse, and that pressure…!

“Okay,” the other knight whispers behind him, “let me try…”

He begins to push the head back in. The birthing knight flinches, his deepest instincts railing against the sensation, but before he can fully register what’s happening, the widest point of the skull digs into that special spot inside him.

Despite clenching his mouth shut, a high moan buzzes in his throat. His baby-heavy hips roll into his lover’s hand, and jolts of pain shock through his paper-thin pussy lips and the stretched flesh inside of his hole, his clit throbbing so strongly that he would have screamed in any other place.

He cums and cums and cums, until tears wet his cheeks and birthing fluid bursts in spurts from his pussy.

The knight behind him simply whispers, “Fuck,” and lets up, allowing the stimulation to ease, though the returning crown chases all of the pleasure with fiery pain.

The birthing knight is left trembling. He doesn’t even have the strength to push when he contracts again, but his body still manages to nudge the baby forward, and his lover responds again by easing the head back in. Lust and fear flood his chest, unsure if he can handle cumming like that again, but it washes over him all the same.

It goes on like that for the rest of the watch. He doesn’t cum with every contraction, but he feels like he will, sometimes teased for several minutes before the next one hits him. Soon there is no thought in his head but the blinding, white-hot pleasure-pain between his legs, and the ecstasy that keeps flooding his body, even as it shivers with pain.

He doesn’t even notice being dismissed by the change of guard, just starts walking blindly when his companion urges him to move, still holding the baby in. The clatter of so much armor drowns out his groans as his wobbling legs struggle to carry him, his ongoing birth feeling like a boiling welt even as he shudders through the aftershocks of his most recent orgasm.

Knowing they won’t make it back to the barracks, the other knight pulls him into the first empty room they pass and pulls the door shut. As he lays his back against the wall, the birthing knight thinks the babe will simply drop out of him the moment it’s no longer held in, but when the other knight starts using both hands to unfasten the cuisses from his thighs, his battered cunt somehow hangs onto the child’s head.

The left cuisse clatters to the floor, then the right, and the other knight reaches for the laces of his trousers. But his body has already tightened again, and he’s already bending at the knees and finally releasing the gravelly, animal groan that’s been building within him as he pushes. For a moment, he fears the head won’t even fit after all of that, but with one last snap of pain that makes him break into a small yelp, the head is born. It stretches his dripping trousers, a sight that leaves his helper speechless for a moment.

He feels the child turning within him, and cringing at the strange sensation, keeps pushing. A shoulder or an elbow digs into that place that makes his clit jump, and with one last gush of fluid, he cums the shoulders out. The child tumbles into his trousers while his pussy spasms and twitches.

While handing him the child, his companion eyes the tender-red place between his legs, dripping with birthing fluid and arousal. “Next time, we need to make sure everyone sees this. They’re not gonna believe me when I tell them how much our boy likes pushing bastards out of his cunt.”

That cunt tightens, and he squeezes his thighs together and whimpers, cumming to the promise of next time.

[embarrassedbumps]

Oops, you've gotten yourself pregnant on accident. Even more embarrassing, you're hanging out with friends when labor starts getting bad. No time to get home, they're getting close and strong, starting to hurt how you always hoped it would...

Do you want one of your friends to be there with you as you strip down, open your legs, and push like a handsome soon-to-be-dad? Or do you try to hide that a baby is about to come out of you, hope you can just give birth unnoticed and rejoin the group once the placenta is out? Or do you try to drive home anyway, and accept that the head might end up filling your boxers and pants once you pull over on the side of the road?

Hmm, what a scenario indeed 😏

I'd like to say..how about a mix of all of them?

I'm sitting there with friends, everyone is having a good time and I'm forced to stay where I'm seated and watch because getting up and down now is to inconvenient and a struggle with how heavy and low my belly sits. I was told I wouldn't be due for another few days, but just as my friends start a new activity I start feeling my womb start to squeeze itself to start pushing the life inside of me out. My friends notice that I seem uncomfortable but I just tell them it's nothing, braxtons just been kicking my ass and it's fine. They believe me, continue what their doing and now and then having me chime in. I have both hands secured on my bump feeling it get tighter under my fingertips holding my breath as contractions come over me in waves.

I feel my body trying to tell me to push but I do everything in my power not to, sweating and panting in short bursts to keep myself from falling apart. One of them can't keep themselves from fussing about my condition, checking in on me and asking often if I'm sure I'm alright. I try to tell him yes, but he isn't buying it anymore. He tells the group that he's going to go help me lay down for a moment, just to get a little rest, the reminder of the group waves us off and tells me to feel better soon. He has to support me all the way to the spare bedroom, asking me what's really going on. I finally cave, the pain and pressure all becoming to much for me to bare and I finally tell him I think I've gone into labor.

He starts to freak out, telling me he'll take me to the hospital, but I stop him before he can reach the door again and tell him I don't want to ruin the get together. A contraction takes me over again and I finally allow myself to react, bracing myself on the bed next to me and doubling over with a hand splayed on the front of my belly. I tell him I can't wait and need to get it out now, I tell him I could feel it pushing its way down and I have to give birth here and now.

He helps me get my pants off, and when they finally are I'm squatted down and digging my nails into the sheets next to me as I push though the next contraction. He kneels next to me, hand between my legs almost a little awkwardly and eyes fixated there. He tells me he can already feel the head, and I just need to push.

Though gritted teeth and stifled moans of pain, it all comes out of me in only after pushing a few times. It was ready to come out a while ago, just inching closer and closer with each tight contraction of my womb..but I didn't listen to my body and forced myself to hold back. My knees go weak and I fall back, my vision hazy from exhaustion and pain, and the friend who helped now holds the new life in his arms as I recover for a moment.

Party gets a +1 surprise member once we come back

(if that's not well written I'm sorry 🤧, me when I've never really written out one of these fantasies before)