desperate to be mpreg

Strictly, unequivocally 21+ only.

[mpreghub]

[desirousofpregnancy]

A day in the life of my happy boywife. He gets up earlier than he intends, woken up by the nausea he always experiences in his first trimester. He’s careful not to wake me before my alarm goes off. When I do get up, I’m met by breakfast and coffee waiting for me in the kitchen. He’s feeding the other kids, but he stops to say good morning, to let me kiss him and rub my hands on his bump, which is now becoming only ever so slightly visible. While I’m eating, he lets the nanny in, who takes over breakfast duties while my boy and I both go upstairs to get ready for the day. We slip in the to shower together. I stand behind him, grabbing his hips and pushing him down against my cock. My hands move to his belly while I rock back and forth inside his hole, loosed by years of breeding and birthing. My wet balls slap against his ass, and he tries his best not to moan too loudly lest the nanny hear. I finish inside him, dumping my morning load against his cervix, and then he and I proceed to soaping each other up and cleaning ourselves. When we’re done, he picks out my suit for the day, helping to dress me while he remains stark naked so I can watch his body while he bends down to put on my socks or turns around to fish out a tie from the closet. After he’s dressed me, he throws on some clothes and we go downstairs; he sees me off for the day, kissing me at the door and handing me my briefcase after I’ve quickly kissed our kids goodbye. When he’s seen me off, my boywife sets to doing chores while the nanny looks after the kids. In the morning, he does laundry and general cleaning, and after lunch he does my ironing. Throughout the day he sends me pics and snap and private TikToks of what he’s doing, usually in a state of some undress. I love watching him iron while his baby bump sticks out ever so slightly. It’s hard to stay focussed at the office, but thankfully I have a big desk that hides my regular hardons from colleagues and clients. When I return home in the evening, he’s made dinner and nanny is just finishing the feeding of the kids. Nanny says goodbye after the kids are fed, and after our own dinner my boywife and I put the kids to bed. The rest of the evening is our own. We usually spend it in the bedroom in the basement where we keep all sorts of fun toys to keep each other entertained. Whatever we choose to do, it always ends the same way; my boywife moaning in pleasure as I press my thick cock against his cervix, which he says is still a little tender from our morning session. When I cum, whether it’s up against my boy’s warm, swelling womb or down his hungry throat, I feel a rush of power. My boywife has willingly, eagerly given me his body, indeed his life, for my use. We are united every night by our common desire to breed, and we devote all of our free time to enjoying the results together. As the kids get older, it might be harder to find so much time together, but I know my boywife will want to keep carrying even as the older ones go off to school — or even college. The pattern of my boywife’s days may change over time, but I know his commitment to growing my gifts never will.

[johnathansmythe-deactivated2022]

[desirousofpregnancy]

When his hand is on my pregnant belly, nothing else matters. He touches it with gente confidence, aware of its delicacy but assured of his ownership. I lay there and let him rub the taut skin as he feels the various contours of my belly growing his latest. No two pregnancies have felt the same, he tells me. I watch his hands as it caresses me, and everything about the sight turns me on. The hair on his forearm disguises his veiny strength. His thick fingers betray a certain roughness that speaks to his job with his hands. Even his finger nails, unkempt but oddly attractive, remind me that he is a man through and through. I thrill at the feeling of carrying his child in me; he has shared himself with me, trusted me to grow it for him and deliver it to him after nine blissful months. He murmurs that I’m beautiful, how proud he is of me for what I’m doing for him. I watch as his free hand pulls down pyjama pants while his other hand continues to feel my bump. His grey underwear has a wet stain where his cock has already leaked ample precum. He pulls down his underwear and begins to stroke himself while he caresses my pregnancy. I can’t keep my eyes off his dick; a sense of power seems to emanate from it as I remind myself that it created what it’s growing inside me. It doesn’t take much longer before my man rolls on his side and direct his cock at my belly, shooting out ropes of cum that stick on my smooth skin. When he finishes cumming, his hand rubs his load against my skin and, with the remainder on his fingers, his brings his hand to my mouth for me to clean him off. I suck on his fingers, greedily swallowing his cum Good boy, he says to me. And then he rolls away, turning on his other side, quickly nodding off to sleep.

[mpregfans]

[desirousofpregnancy]

You haven’t seen him in months. Living on the other side of the country most of the time, with your infertile wife from whose family fortune it’s so hard to walk away, you don’t make it out to see your boy as much as you would like. You’re shocked at how big he’s gotten since you impregnated him six months ago. You knew twins would make him swell up, but you didn’t quite expect him to get this big — and you can’t imagine what another 3 months might mean. You were most excited about the sex, it was all you could think about on the flight over. And it’s true that that first night was intense. Sitting on your cock, his weight and size were overwhelming; you barely lasted a few minutes that first time before dumping your load against his cervix. But it didn’t take you much time to recover for intense — and longer lasting — rounds two and three.

But a few days in to your visit, it’s not just the sex that’s making you happy. Simply living alongside him is more meaningful than anything else. You took him to the mall to shop for baby clothes and savoured the looks that people gave you and him, walking hand in hand through stores, proud of what you’d done together. You visited his parents for dinner and thrilled at the way you helped your boy move around the cramped kitchen, softly asserting your fatherly rights. At the movies, you helped him sit in the cramped folding seat and kept your hand on his belly the whole movie, intensely focused on feeling his deep breathing and the occasional movement beneath his taut skin as he stared ahead at the film you barely remembered.

Tomorrow you’re going home. There’s still time for a bit more sex; you’re working up the courage to take him in the living room of his condo, in front of the giant glass windows that look out in four or five other buildings, where everyone will surely see you bring your boy to an ecstatic finish. You tell him you’ll be back, hopefully sooner this time. You want to be there for the birth, to see your boy do his duty for you. You can tell he’s scared, but you know he’ll be great. You can’t wait to watch him labour against the gifts you’ve given him.

You tell him you’ll be there for everything, but deep down you know you might not be. You have another life to get back to, and your wife might get suspicious. But whether or not you’re there for the birth, you feel confident this won’t be your last pregnancy with your boy. With access to as much money as you could ever need, you know you can keep breeding him and growing your family. You have no intention of ignoring this fundamental biological impulse. And you feel glad that your boy wants to give you as many as he can. You have years more pregnancy ahead of you.

[neghort]

[desirousofpregnancy]

I press my belly against his, feeling what he gave me against what I gave him. I want to feel his belly with my hands, to glory in its taut warmth and to feel the movements of my creation just beneath the skin. But at the same time, I yearn to feel his hands on my own belly, to feel what I’m growing for him in my own womb. I imagine he feels the same duality; we stare in to each other’s eyes, seeing in the other simultaneously prey and predator. Sex has become different these past few months; we can’t just top each other like we could at the beginning. But it doesn’t stop us from enjoying the bodies we’ve made for each other practically every night. Sometimes we drizzle oil on each other and simply rub bellies, pushing our creations gently against one another until we both explode from the erotic pressure. Other times we take turns pushing large dildos in to the other’s canal, stretching the other out to get us both ready for what’s to come at the end of our respective journeys. And every once in a while we just give each other simple hand jobs, making each other cum all over our own gravid bellies. Our family is set to double in size in only a few weeks from now, but we’re already thinking about having more. If we can time it right, we want to get each other pregnant against the same time — but even if we don’t get the timing right, neither of us wants this to be our last. It feels way too good for us to stop now.

[zakucavanje-deactivated20240512]

[eliteaestheticbrah]

Pov: we’re making ur son but ima dip after ha

[desirousofpregnancy]

Yeah babe, you like that dick donchu? Does that feel good? Fuck yeah, babe, just keep moving like that, yeah. Ur gonna have ur son in no time. Fuck yeah, bitch, take all ten inches of me, awwyeah. We’re gonna erase those abs so quickly, babe. U ready to be morning sick because of my kid? It’s crazy that you want this so bad when you know I ain’t gonna be around a lot. Good god you’re a desperate slut, oh fuck yeah that feels amazing babe, grind on me just like that a bit more. U ready to be preggo? Oh yeah babe just keep going fuck yeah I’m about to dump my load holy shit babe. Fuuuuck, that was intense. Now get off me and get ur legs in the air so it takes. I gotta bounce. Maybe I’ll see u around in a few months when ur a few months in. I told you I can’t be his forever daddy, but I’d love to spend a little more time with u and the little guy before your nine months is up.

[mpregfans]

[desirousofpregnancy]

I lean against the couch, focussing on my breathing. With my water broken and contractions so close together, it’s going to be over so soon. But the whole time I’m distinctly aware of my husband standing just behind me, watching my progress. He tells me what a good job I’m doing; he encourages me to keep going. He tells me how beautiful I look, labouring against the gift he gave me nine months ago. I glance back at him and see his face, in an awed trance, transfixed at the sight of my boypussy beginning to stretch open against our latest. He smiles at me; I see how grateful he is and it gives me the deepest sense of satisfaction it’s possible to imagine. He tells me to keep going, that he knows it hurts but that he’s so moved by my dedication to his happiness. He reaches out to touch my lower back, which is drenched in sweat; his hands stays there, a comforting and dominant presence as I push and breathe in rhythmic patterns. I’m focussed now on delivering to my husband his right as the man in our house, and he continues to encourage me. He tells me it will be over soon, but I know it will only be over for a short period of time. It will only be a matter of weeks between the end of this pregnancy and the start of the next.

[maturehunksblog]

[desirousofpregnancy]

Now that I’d made partner, it was time to start a family. I’d had my eye on Justin, the junior associate who was struggling to keep up with the other first years. Over a “business lunch,” it didn’t take me long to convince him that he wasn’t lawyer material. He asked me what I thought he should do instead, and I levelled with him. He’d never thought of himself as the paternal type, but I pointed out all the qualities that made him a middling lawyer — his emotional thoughtfulness, his unwillingness to say no, his devotion to the gym instead of trial prep — would make him an excellent breeder. We hadn’t even finished our meals when I paid the waiter a 50 to keep people out of the washroom while we locked ourselves inside. Justin’s pussy was unusually tight, and I told him it wouldn’t be that long until that would change. Between taking my nine inches daily, and giving birth to the son I’d just dumped in his womb in time to show off at the Partners’ Christmas Party, his hole would be slack in no time…

[uniformincar]

[desirousofpregnancy]

Garrett was proud that he almost never missed a delivery. And he was even prouder that he was able to deliver his own package to me, his favourite boytoy, every day without fail over his lunch hour. Every day for the last four months, around noon I’d see him pull up in his boxy truck, jump out the front door and practically run up my porch like a dog eager to be let in. His short shorts barely concealed his growing boner by the time I came to the door, and the minute I opened it he would already be pushing me against the back walls. My hands would grip his bulging biceps before he’d push me down to his little brown shorts, where I’d unzip him and take him in my mouth. A few minutes later we’d be upstairs, in the bathroom where I’d be bent over the sink while Garrett would pump away at my boypussy, stretching my hole while watching my face contort in pain and pleasure in the reflection of the mirror. In wide profile, I’d watch his huge, muscled ass push himself in and out of me, while inside his thick member would push up against my cervix. My own cock would be hard and leaking, but Garrett never touched it; he said he preferred to treat me like a real pussyboy. We never used condoms — Garrett said they didn’t feel good, and I was fine with that. Within a few minutes, Garrett would finish by pumping a thick load in me, and usually he made me cum hands free just from the feeling of his girth pumping his thick seed against my cervix. Depending on how much time had passed, sometimes he’d stay inside me and go again after a few minutes of rest and kissing, but other times he’d pull out, zip up, and head back to the truck.

This was our usual pattern until about two weeks ago when I discovered something I had to tell him. He showed up like usual, fucked me senseless, and was getting ready to leave when I told him I had news. I told him that I was expecting something, but that it was delayed. He asked me for the tracking number, said he’d see what he could do to speed things up. That’s the thing, I clarified. There isn’t a tracking number, but I knew it wouldn’t get delivered for nine months. Nine months, he exclaimed, that’s so late, what package takes nine months to arr— and then he got it, his eyes widening first in surprise, then fear, and then finally settling on horny satisfaction. He stared at me speechless for a beat, and then he pulled down his shorts again, exposing his cock, still damp from our fucking but clearly ready for round two. As he fucked me, he called me mommy and said he was so excited to come visit me every day to see — and feel — the changes he’s caused. And he assured me, just before he exploded inside me with even more force than usual, that he’d be there to watch me labour his gift to life. After all, he said, he almost never missed a delivery.

[cant-get-enough-daddies-4]

[desirousofpregnancy]

I wake up. My bladder is screaming full, even though I went pee twice already in the middle of the night. Looks like I’m not sleeping in. I try to be subtle as I push myself out of bed so that I don’t wake Scott, but being subtle is a tall challenge for anyone my size. The bed seems to sigh in relief as I lift myself off of it, relieving it of me and my gravid belly. I waddle to the ensuite bathroom and start to pee; I can’t see my cock over my bump, but my aim is pretty good now that I’ve been pregnant for eight months. After I finish, I open the door to and see that Scott is awake. His eyes are only half open, but I can tell by his half smile — and an obvious semi, under the thin sheet that covers his bottom half — that he’s awake enough to make a move. Scott yawns and stretches, showing me his thick, tattooed arms and accentuating his furry, hard chest.

“Morning babe,” he says groggily, as I stand in the doorway observing him. I’ve got nothing on except my underwear, and I know he likes that.

“Morning,” I return, giving him a little smile.

“You’re up,” he says. It’s not a question, even if his voice lilts a bit at the end. It’s a statement, a recognition of a fact that must, inexorably, lead to another.

“So are you, I see” I say back, and my eyes wander to his hardened cock.

Scott smiles, coy, still waking up a bit. He reaches down under the covers and scratches his balls, taking no notice of how much it turns me on to see him perform little masculinities like that. He’ll be a perfect dad, in every way, just like he’s already the perfect daddy to me. My stomach gives a flip that has nothing to do with the twins Scott gave me eight months earlier.

“You coming back to bed, babe?” he asks, as I continue to linger by the bathroom door. “It’s still early.” The clock on the bedside reads 7:04, too early for a Sunday.

I rub my belly ponderously, like a magic eight ball. “Signs point to yes,” I finally say, walking over to the bed. I climb on my knees and crawl overtop Scott until my face is above his while my legs straddle his prone torso. His hands find my belly, hanging off my body; he caresses, while I lean in for a kiss.

Scott tastes like the cigarettes he must’ve smoked the previous night, but also like the mouthwash he used at the factory after work. He tastes like hard work and honest living. I feel a kick in my uterus and I wince; Scott feels it too, and he smiles so warmly that I could practically melt. He’s wanted to be a dad for so long, and now I’m the one who is giving it to him. Twice at once, too, thanks to his supersperm and my family’s habit for multiples.

We kiss some more, and then I break off and shuffle back a bit, moving my face down to his armpits. They’re slightly damp, a little musky, and I breathe them in like fresh flowers. I wish I could live with his scent like an air freshener. I kiss his biceps and his triceps, and then he im gently guides my head down to his pecs with his hands. Moving from one nipple to the other and back, I get lost in his fur, feeling overwhelmed by my lust for him.

He pulls down the sheet to reveal his lower half, his boxers already off (he must’ve had them off the whole time.) My mouth moves to his thick cock, the head already sticky with precum. I want him to choke me with his girth, but he’s a gentle giant with oral sex. I’m slow and methodical as I move up and down his shaft, and he moans just enough for me to know it’s entirely real. As I swallow him as deeply as I can, he pushes me gently to go just a bit further, whispering to me about being daddy’s good boy. I choke, I start to cough, and he relents, and then leans over to kiss me for a job well done. His balls come next, two big cherry tomatoes that I suck on one at a time. His scrotum is hairy, and it tastes like dried sweat, and I can’t get enough. I could live forever between Scott’s legs, worshipping his powerful tool.

But Scott has other plans; he keeps me on all fours but moves behind me. He spits and then his fingers begin to work me open. Little by little my pussy opens up for him, just like it has countless times before. He knows my insides better even than me; he’s gentle but firm, and it isn’t long before his finger is pushing against my prostate. Some more spit, his fingers withdraw, and now I feel his cock resting on my ass crack.

“Ok babe,” he says, “you ready?”

I mutter yes, and clutch at my full belly. No matter how many times Scott fucks me, it feels like magic every time. This is no different, as he pushes himself inside me and up towards my plugged up cervix. He groans as he bottoms out at just where my canal ends, separated from my full uterus only by a few inches of tissue. He begins to pump in and out, slowly at first and then a bit faster as we find our rhythm. He stands me up eventually, both of us on our knees, me leaving backs against him while he fucks me from behind and his hands dance across my gravid belly. He can’t stop feeling my pregnancy, like a sculptor checking his own work he’s intimately fascinated by every inch that he’s made me grow.

We change positions more than once. Scott lays down and bounces me up and down on his cock. I watch his face as he watches my gravid baby bump bounces up and down in front of him; I see his primal satisfaction, I tell him how good it feels that he’s my daddy. He’s the big spoon to my little, pounding my hole deeply while he tells me how good my warm, impregnated hole feels.

Towards the end, I’m laying on my back with my legs on shoulders; he’s looking over me, pumping harder and harder, watching how his pounding makes my gravid belly jiggle and jostle. He watches for signs of the twins, desperate to see another rippling movement beneath the belly he’s given me.

I can tell he’s close, his pace is unsustainable for much longer. My own cock is rock hard, dripping precum as it flaps against my pregnant belly. I can’t reach it, but I won’t need to; Scott knows that I’ll fuck when he does. And after a few more thrusts, he jams his cock right against my prostate and makes me yelp as we both cum, me all over my gravid belly and him in my canal, flooding me all the way up to my cervix.

In the seconds after orgasm, I see Scott for who he is, a humble, working class bloke who wants nothing more than to have a big family. I see our whole life in his eyes, which means more kids than we can reasonably afford if he has his way. I see how satisfied he is with me, how I’m giving him meaning in a world of bleak meaninglessness. The twins are his world, and I’m his world, and in this moment our sex is the only thing that matters.

He pulls out, and slumps on the bed beside me. He kisses my belly, avoiding the spots where I’ve spilled my own cum. “One more month,” he says out loud. I don’t know if he’s talking to the twins or to me. But I know in that moment I’m not going to waste than month. I know already that it’s my job to give him this body as much as he needs. He will reap what he sows, and I know we’ll do it again and again and again.

[lofitwink-deactivated20211106]

[desirousofpregnancy]

The monitor crackled to life, and we both paused to listen. But after a few burbles and gurgles, the monitor was quiet again, just a soft stream of white noise. We didn’t have much “us” time, but what little we managed to find everyday we devoted to the same activity: expanding our family. I pushed myself back in my husband, his hole still slack from pushing out the twins only a few months earlier. He moaned as I bottomed out inside him, feeling his warm insides clench around me. His legs rested on my shoulders as I pumped, slow but deliberately, watching his face contort in pleasure. My cock pressed against his cervix and he whimpered. He looked up at me while his hands rubbed his belly in front of me. You want daddy to fill that up for you, I asked him, joining my hands to his and pressing down on his currently empty womb. Will you grow daddy twins again, baby, or maybe triplets? He nodded, his hips now gyrating against my cock even as his legs remained on my shoulders. He wanted to be filled even more than I wanted to fill him. I imagined him and I in this same position two months from now, and six, and then nine; each time, his body would get heavier to support on my shoulders, but he’d crave me more each time. I’d look down and watch the belly I made move against the rythmn of my thrusts. The thought was too much for me: I busted my load deep in him, covering his cervix with three spurts of my sperm. He smiled as I slowed down and panted, but before we could even kiss, the monitor crackled back to life and the crying started in earnest. My husband rolled over and went to attend to the problem. I watched him leave the room, pulling on his pants even as cum still dripped from his hole. He was consumed by the task nature had set him, but it turned me on to watch him fulfill it so dutifully. Sooner or later he’s have even more on his hands, and I’d reap the rewards for nine months.

[dizel-deactivated20200122]

[desirousofpregnancy]

Oh princess, if you think this hurts, just wait nine months. Only then will you know just how much it hurts to be in love with me.

[twink-and-the-beast-deactivated]

Dad

[desirousofpregnancy]

He told me not to worry. He’d been through it before with his ex-wife twice. He said that pregnancy wasn’t as scary or difficult as everyone said it was, that his ex-wife didn’t mind it. And he loved it, of course. He told me how great we’d feel when we both got to see the double line on the test, how excited we’d get in seeing the progression in the ultrasounds, how everyone would look at us together in public and know what we’d done together. But mostly, he admitted, he was looking forward to the nine months we’d have together in private, where he could admire and worship his work. He told me how sexy I’d look with a stretched, gravid belly marked by occasional kicks and faint stretch marks. Despite all that, I told him I was nervous: would it hurt to be impregnated? what about the morning sickness? I couldn’t even bring myself to think about the labour, let alone mention it. He sighed and gave me a warm smile; an empathetic one, but not necessarily relieving. Pregnancy asks a lot of a partner, he admitted, but he knew I could handle it. He’d be there to help me through as much as he could, but he also had to be honest that it would come with sacrifices. But he reminded me that it would also come with great pleasure. He told me that he promised to dote on me everyday, that I wouldn’t believe how good it would feel to be fucked mercilessly by my baby’s daddy, that labour was another way to demonstrate my love for him. And every labour would get easier than the last, because of course we wouldn’t stop once we’d start. That’s when things clicked. I imagined him getting home every night from work to find me in my lingerie, ready to relieve his stress. I imagined how he’d walk beside me in public, showing off to my family how he’s owned my body. I imagined, finally, a few years from now, pregnant again, pushing a stroller with our others, with him and I chatting about buying a new house out in the country so we’d have room for even more. I realized as we walked that my instinct to be his breeding partner was buried deeply in my DNA and that I couldn’t deny its appeal. Knowing he’d done it before with someone else only made me want to show him I could do it too, even better than his ex. When I told him all of this, he reached out to my face and caressed it softly, telling me that he’d known this all along. It was an instinct he had the first time we met. And then he pulled out his cock and ordered me to earn his baby. Reader, I got to work right away.

[americanfratbro-deactivated2021]

[desirousofpregnancy]

That’s it, slut, you’re about be a mommy. You aren’t leaving this room until it’s with my kid stuffed up your pussy. Cmon, princess, milk daddy’s fat cock, you gotta earn your first child. Yeah, just like that, nice and deep. Show daddy how much you want this, princess. Are you going to give daddy a son? That’s right princess, squeeze your hole, don’t let any of my cum drip out. We’re going to do this all night until I’m sure you’re knocked up, baby.

[femboy-with-daddy]

[desirousofpregnancy]

Getting posted abroad doesn’t stop a servicemember from having a family. This was his third post, and he’d knocked boys up in all three places. He told them he loved them, which he did in the moment; it’s why they’d all agreed to have unprotected sex. And when they inevitably got knocked up, he couldn’t get enough of their bodies growing to accommodate his kids. There was nothing better than dumping load after load in to his heavily pregnant boys, watching their eyes glaze over with pleasure as his thick protein creamed their plugged up cervixes. But when it was time to have the baby, he’d disappear to find another boy. He could only guess at his conquest count — maybe it was six, maybe seven. And now here he was, a new boy in a new place, desperate for his cum even though he was already two months pregnant. It was twins, which turned them both on even more. The boy bounced dutifully along his daddy’s thick cock, moaning about how much harder he wanted to be fucked even while he whispered asides to the twins that it would all be over soon. The man kissed his pregnant boy, savouring the moment but also remembering the fact that he was being shipped somewhere else in a few months. Even as he pushed against the boy’s stuffed womb, he was wondering how many more pregnancies he’d be able to make before being shipped home. He hoped it’d be a long time before that happened. A very long time.

[gifmaximus]

[desirousofpregnancy]

The twins are almost to term, but daddy doesn’t relent. Every evening, my legs are hoisted up on to his shoulders and he gapes my pussy for thirty minutes or so. He demands that I maintain eye contact with him; he sees the pain and pleasure mingling in my eyes as he pumps himself to orgasm. His hands rest on my gravid belly, feeling the damage his seed has done to me, conscious of what is growing just beneath my stretched skin. He whispers to me about destroying my boypussy, about stretching me out with his fat member, about how beautiful I’ll look when I eventually scream out the gift he’s left inside me. And just as he’s about to cum, he leans in and kisses me ferociously, his hands squeezing my gravid womb as he dumps his day-old load inside me. Sometimes the twins kick at just the right moment, and this makes me shudder doubly hard. After, he pulls out and his fingers find my hole, gently pushing the dripping cum back inside me. Good boy, he says, and then he walks away to get a beer and watch TV. I lay there and watch him leave the room, my hole sore and slack, heaving as I try to catch my breath. I rub my belly, asking the twins out loud if they’re ok, telling them how much their daddy loves us. I drift off to sleep, ready to do it all again tomorrow.

[hornymenhavingfun]

[desirousofpregnancy]

My baby boy is asleep in my arms, freshly bred for the fifth time this week. He’s been off birth control for two months now, so it’s only a matter of time before I knock him up. Who knows, maybe he’s growing my first son right now…

[hunknchunk]

Do you think the gym employees are noticing my gym shorts getting tighter every week?

More tight clothes and booty videos here

[desirousofpregnancy]

By the end of our first date, I knew I’d make him a father one day. It wasn’t even by the end, really. It was only twenty minutes in to our conversation in the fancy hotel lobby where we agreed to have a drink that I’d asked if he wanted kids. So often in the gay community the answer is no; it’s a flippant, unconsidered no. For years, I’d say the exact same thing. Kids are messy and loud and expensive as hell. Being gay was a reason to sidestep all of that. But lately I’d been feeling differently about it, as if my own biological clock had been wound up. My Wombsday Clock was ticking inexorably toward midnight’s children. So imagine my surprise when I asked Greg if he wanted kids and he said, without a breath of hesitation, “yes, absolutely.”

My stomach dropped a bit at the answer. Or maybe it was my cock that twitched. Something inside me seemed to roar a bit. It was a turn on that this man in front of me was so decidedly set on having kids. I imagined him immediately as a stellar father, caring and supportive and maybe a little tough but never anything but totally loving. If I were a snowman, I’d have melted at the swooning heat that my heart seemed to be generating. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to give him that experience myself.

So like I said, I knew by the end of that date that I’d make him a father. But I’m not a crazy person, so that first night (we drunkenly took a room in the hotel instead of going back to mine or his place) we were responsible and used condoms. The chemistry was obvious, though, at least to me. And I think to him. He came four times over the course of the night and the morning after; twice while fucking me, and another two times on my face. I couldn’t get enough of his cock, a thick, musky piece accompanied by some majorly heavy balls. Not to get too descriptive about it, but he wielded his junk with the precision of a surgeon and the unrelenting power of a construction worker.

I couldn’t get Greg out of my head for weeks. I desperately wanted to give him a child, but I had refrained from telling him I could do it for him. As we continued to date, we talked more and more about what our potential family would be like — big, we agreed, six or seven kids seemed ideal — but Greg always came back to the difficulty of the thing. Adoption was long and expensive and we both hated the idea of surrogacy even though we’d had friends go that route. It took a lot of willpower to not tell him we had a third option: me. I learned at an early age that telling guys I was one of those rare gay guys who could carry made things a bit less complicated for everyone. Sure, it meant that I’d gotten in to some tough spots in the past, but the law was on my side. Besides, I wasn’t ready for kids back then. But now things seemed different, even if I wasn’t quite ready to tell Greg yet. Or rather I wanted desperately to tell him, but the logical part of my brain knew that only 6 weeks of dating probably wasn’t enough, really, to know for sure if he was the one I’d give my body over to. All my instincts screamed the obvious, but I was going to be responsible.

Or at least that was the plan. It was only three months after we’d first met that I was at Greg’s place, a little condo in the city, and what I thought was going to be a glass of wine turned in to three bottles. And that’s when I let it slip. He was cuddling up me, telling me how good we’d be as parents if only we could find the time and money to go through with adoption, when I blurted it out. “Or you could just knock me up.” He laughed but then realized by the embarrassed look on my face that I wasn’t kidding. He asked if I was serious, and I nodded with the comic solemnity only a drunk person possesses. I tried my best to explain that it was possible, that I was one of those rare guys, that I kept it from him because I wanted to be sure. And now, I said against my better judgement, I was pretty sure. Very sure, actually. Greg sat quietly for a moment and then asked: is this what you want? to be pregnant? I stared in to his dark eyes, gulped, and then nodded. Yes, I said, I want to give you children.

Next thing I knew he was carrying me to the bedroom. He had literally scooped me up in his arms and plodded as fast as he could to his bed, where he threw me down and proceeded to jump on top of me. The kissing was ravenous; my face, my neck, and then once my shirt was off he suckled at my nipples. My pants came off next, along with my underwear, which already had an embarrassingly big precum spot soaking through. “Fuck,” he said, leaning back to look at me completely naked, “you’re so beautiful, Tay.” I giggled a bit and shrugged. “I won’t look like this for much longer, babe, if you get your way.”

I rolled Greg over on to his back. I climbed on top of him, feeling the warmth and weight of his body under mine. I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my fingers through his chest hair. His chest was solid under my hands. I felt his arms, and Greg bent them a bit so I could feel his biceps bulged. I kissed him everywhere I could manage, worshipping his solidity and masculinity. His shorts came off next, followed by his trunks, and I found myself in between his legs, my face rubbing at the sweaty, hairy area between his thighs and his package. To someone else the smell might’ve been weird, but to me it was the best thing I’d ever smelled; his musk made my mouth water. He smelled like a father.

Greg took his head in his strong hands and guided my mouth to his cock. “Open up, baby,” he said, and gently pushed his head past my lips. It wasn’t long before he was pressing at the back of my throat; I gagged, hard. I was never good at oral sex, and I whimpered an apology. He knew this already from our last few dates, but despite his insistence that I was getting better, I still felt bad. “That’s alright baby,” Greg said, but he didn’t stop. “Let’s do a little bit each day until you can take the whole thing, ok? Now that we’re going to get you big and pregnant, there’s going to be times together when we won’t be able to have full sex. I want to make sure you’re ready to take my loads in other ways.” And so he continued to fuck my face but he slowed it down, gently filling my mouth with his cock until I started to cough, over and over again, until my eyes were so watery I was practically crying. After a while, he relented and pulled me up towards him, grabbing my ass while he kissed me, the taste of his precum lingering in my mouth.

He slowed down the kissing now and the mood seemed to grow serious as I lay on top of him. “Are you really sure you want this, Tay?” he whispered to me, his gaze locked in mine. “This is way easier for me than it is for you, so I wouldn’t be mad if—” but I cut him off my thrusting me hand over his mouth. It was my turn to talk. “I’ve tried to ignore this, but I can’t,” I said, breathy and still pretty tipsy. “I want you to fill me up. I want you to own me, completely. I’m desperate to have you show me off to the world.” It sounded corny, almost pulled from the worst Harlequin, but I couldn’t stop. “I love you, Greg, and giving you the gift of fatherhood is the only want I can express that. Let me make you a dad tonight Greg.”

And with those express wishes, Greg pulled apart my ass cheeks and rubbed his cock against my hole. He grabbed some lube from the bedside table and blindly slathered it on himself first, and then used the remaining to slick his fingers and probe at my entrance. One finger and then two and then three happened so quickly; my hole had never been so receptive, it seemed to me. He found my prostate and pushed at it, sending little shivers through my body. He withdrew his fingers and I knew what was about to happen.

First there was the growing pressure but then my hole relented and Greg’s thick cock pushed smoothly inside me. Brushing past my prostate, he found my cervix with ease and began to push against it. It hurt a bit as Greg pushed my ass down on his cock so that his dick pressed hard against my cervix, like he thought he could bust through there directly to my womb. I bit my lip in pain, which he noticed immediately. “I know it hurts baby, it won’t be for long.” He hugged me close and he started to pump in and out of me, taking control of my body like a rag doll. It was bliss.

We switched positions a few times as Greg continued to prime me for his impregnating load. On all fours, Greg pushed himself deep inside me as his balls thwacked against my ass. Standing up, he pressed me against the wall to ceiling glass window that looked out over the city, his dick expanding my canal as our neighbours probably looked on in curious embarrassment. And sitting in his chair in the corner of the room, I rode Greg from his lap, controlling the pace of his destruction of my bussy while he leaned back and watched, trying his best not to blow his wad too early.

It was forty five minutes of various paces and positions before Greg seemed to tire. We were laying our sides, Greg spooning me from behind as his cock slowlt moved in and out of me. He discovered that I love when he pulled out completely, that I whimpered uncontrollably every time he parted my lips with his slick staff.

“You ready to be a mommy, Taylor?” Greg asked, barely audible over the sounds of my wet hole being plumbed. I had never been more ready for anything in my whole life (nor, frankly, in my hole’s life.) I gasped a yes, as Greg’s paced picked up one last time. I felt blindly towards my hole to touch Greg’s wet, loose ball sack; his balls were swollen with cum and his scrotum started to contract as they readied. I moved me hands to my tits, feeling them harden under my soft fingers.

Greg’s hands moved to my lower belly as he began his final thrusts, knocking against my cervix with abandon. “Come on, baby,” I egged him on, “knock me up. Show me how much of a man you are. Make yourself a father.” He pumped faster, harder, his hands pressing harder against my empty womb. “You wanna cum inside me, Greg?” I asked as my whole body rocked back and forth from his fucking, “you wanna ruin my body with your baby?” He responded with grunts and moans as he pumped himself closer and closer to fatherhood.

And then it happened. He pushed himself as hard as he could against my now sore cervix, his whole body shuddered, and his hands caressed my belly as he shot his load with a loud, animal grunt. “Oh fuckkkk,” he said, as he flooded my insides, “fuckkk, fuck fuck fuck… what did I do to you!!!” It might’ve sounded like regret to anyone else but I knew he meant it completely opposite. It was a victory cry, a conquering hero’s reflection that he’d just bred his partner for the first time. The feeling of being bred was too much for me and I came handsfree as Greg’s cock was still lodged inside me.

We lay together for a few quiet moments, Greg not pulling out his half-hard cock lest any of his seed spill out. He kissed me neck while his hands continued to rub my belly. After a few moments of silence, he started to talk, almost a monologue, and I close my eyes while he spoke. “Babe, that was incredible. You were amazing. That was better than I’d ever imagined. You’re going to be so sexy when you’re swollen up. I know it won’t always be easy, babe, but I’ll be here for you. I want you to have the best nine months of your life, babe. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. I can’t believe I’m going to be a daddy. It’s all because of you, babe. Thank you baby. Thank you.”

Seven months later, he was right about everything. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been the best time of my life. Everyone stares at me at the gym; my shorts barely fit, my shirt doesn’t even cover my belly anymore. But where I see awkward weight and unsightly stretch marks, Greg assures me that he sees proof of our love. He kisses my stretch marks, even rubs his cum on them sometimes like lotion. He says my ass is unignorably inviting, which is probably why Greg fucks me at least once a day. If we thought breeding sex was good, it’s been nothing compared to pregnant sex. The pressure of Greg’s cock is doubly good when it’s shoved up against the warm weight of my full womb. When I straddle him in the morning at the breakfast table, it’s with the full weight of his family now. When he sneaks up on me in the shower at night, his hands explore my soapy belly and I revel that he and his pride and joy are separated only by my stretched skin.

We’re getting ready for a long labour in a few months. Greg says everyone in his family has unusually long births; the babies are big, he shrugs, apparently without a care in the world for my struggle to come. But I’m not worried. Greg will be there with me to see me give him his gift. And we’re ready for what will come after. Actually, we’re more than ready. It’s why Greg bought the double wide stroller with room for four. He dreams of being a father more than once. And I’ll do whatever I can to make his dream our shared reality.