Reblog if you’d rather give yourself papercuts between each of your fingers and then rub hand sanitizer all over your hands than use generative AI to write or draw anything ever
obsessed with the thought of my husband holding me while i’m giving birth. i’m in between his legs and he’s gently prying my legs open every once in a while to dip a finger in my slit and check if the baby’s head is there. when he isn’t checking me, one of his hands is always on my areola, the other on my belly. his voice is gentle and soft, encouraging me to birth our baby the way i want to.
the baby is so, so low. at some point i feel it close and put a finger inside me to check. it’s right there. my husband is still carressing my skin and kissing my neck. “it’s right there,” i murmur, moaning as another contraction comes.
i feel my husband’s hand over my vagina. he dips his middle finger in, but it doesn’t take long before he feels our baby’s head. i can feel him getting excited—his finger stays inside me. i’ve been pushing little by little, grunting the baby out slowly, focusing on how its head is stretching me inside.
it takes an hour before i can get the head to a full crown. by that time my husband has been rubbing my clit, distracting me from the pain by pleasuring me. it’s working. one particular contraction takes my breath away and i’m forced to push hard, moaning, flinching against my husband—“hey,” he whispers, “hey. you’re almost there.”
he presses his lips down my neck, kissing me gently, breath ghosting across my skin. i push with every kiss, slowly getting our baby out of me, my hands poised to catch them. it’s another thirty minutes of pushing, of focusing on my husband’s touch, before our baby is finally born.
“he’s here,” he whispers. “you did so well, my love.”
That point in pregnancy where you're just so big and full. Everything aches, hips, back, feet, breasts, and especially your heavy womb. You're uncomfortable all the time. You can't sleep and you don't walk anymore, you waddle. You're ready for it to be over, waking up every morning hoping this will finally be the day that labor starts. But despite trying everything you can think of to get things going, you're still just as pregnant at the end of the day. You might go on like this for weeks...
Petite girl intoxicated with how much pregnancy with a 6'6+ man has made her swell. Her whole body sways when she waddles down the street with him. She needs assistance stepping up onto the curb and getting into the car. The simplest movements force her to catch her breath while holding her stomach.
People give him weird looks in public, but in private, she can't take herself off of him. Repeatedly milking the cock that made her absolutely gigantic like shes trying to fuck another baby into her overburdened womb.
Seeing a pregnant woman pull her shirt over her third trimester belly. And the shirt is way too small so it’s clear immediately that the shirt is only going to pull down to maybe her belly button while leaving the rest of her belly uncovered
This isn’t a prompt or request (they’re still closed for now). This is just a self indulgent little scene that turned into a 3k fic. Bit more intimacy/sensual themes than my usual, but still has all my fav tropes :) Hope people enjoy this one x
I couldn’t resist the opportunity to show you off to my friends and colleagues at the company awards dinner. This may have been the biggest you’d ever gotten during any of your pregnancies; your tight firm belly was a beach ball beneath your maroon silk dress, hanging low and heavy on your hips. My hand wrapped around your waist and squeezed your hip affectionately as we mingled through the crowd. With a champagne glass in hand you smiled and laughed at the joke my boss made.
“You look ready to pop my dear. You better not steal the show tonight by going into labour” The CEO had said with a grin, looking in awe at your incredible size.
We both laughed, my hand moving up and down your lower back. If only he knew.
Your contractions had started this afternoon, the slow gentle tightening of your womb signalling our baby’s readiness to come into the world. But even with your contractions, we still put our black tie outfits on and went out this evening to the company awards show. You knew it was important to me and my career. Plus, neither of us could deny the thrill of having to ride out your contractions in such a public setting.
“How are you doing darling?” I whispered in your ear after my boss and CEO walked away.
“Mmmm… okay…. They’re getting a little stronger now though.” You said with a breathy moan, your hand naturally moving across the underside of your belly, rubbing the taut skin through the silk fabric of your dress.
“Let’s quickly pop into the bathroom before we take our seats. I can check to see how you’re progressing.”
With my hand around your waist I felt how much more you were waddling, a sign of how low the baby was sitting in the bowl of your pelvis. I squeezed your hip and took a long breath to try and control myself.
In the single occupancy bathroom I quickly locked the door behind us. You found your way to the sink and braced against the bathroom counter, swaying your hips through another contraction. I growled at the sight, seeing you so gravid and fertile, your body doing something so powerful and natural.
“You look incredible, my love.” I stood behind you, pressing my body against your backside and wrapping my arms around you to feel the firm and hard skin of your belly as it contracted. A low moan came from your lips as the wave reached its peak and I bent forward, my chest to your back, whispering in your ear to breathe.
When the contraction had passed, I pulled up the fabric of your maroon silk dress, slowly up your thighs until I reached my destination. You moaned as I slipped my fingers inside, deep but gentle, knowing how sensitive you were during labour.
“Wow darling…. You’re already at 7cm.” My words were thick with desire in your ear. “Do you think you can hold on for the rest of the evening?”
You smiled at me through the reflection of the mirror, grinning with excitement.
We made our way out the bathroom and found our seats for the dinner and awards ceremony. I could feel your breathing was heavier, your movements were slower, and I beamed with pride at how well you were doing. Everyone was in awe of your attendance this evening, being so advanced in your pregnancy, and yet nobody knew just how close you were to not being pregnant anymore.
Our seats were in the middle of the hall, on a large round table with nearly a dozen other people. Some colleagues I knew, others I didn’t, all with their partners or spouses. Music was playing, waiters were bringing food to tables, drinks were flowing, the room was soon filled with conversation and laughter as people got progressively more drunk. All the while you sat beautifully beside me, joining in discussions and smiling brightly. My gorgeous wife, heavily pregnant, and secretly in active labour.
Two courses into our meal you started to hum quietly beside me, shifting in your seat. My hand found your thigh, my thumb rubbing soothing motions across your leg over the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re doing great darling, just breathe through them. Not long now.” I purred in your ear, knowing that wasn’t true. The awards had just commenced, my boss and CEO taking the stage to begin proceedings, and like all previous company dinners I knew it would be a long evening.
Contraction after contraction wracked your body, but you showed no obvious signs of discomfort. You’d gone a little quieter perhaps but your smile remained bright to everyone around us. Every now and then throughout the evening the room would erupt in obligatory applause as someone was granted an award or achievement from the company. During one of these moments my ears pricked, attuned to your sounds, and I heard a low moan slip from your parted lips.
My arm wrapped around your shoulders, leaning in close, my breath caressing your neck. “Darling…. You okay?” I asked, concerned but unbelievably aroused.
“Nngh… baby feels so low…” you whispered, spreading your legs a little under the table.
I shivered, stuttering slightly with a husky voice “D-Do you need to push?”
“N-no…. I’m okay just…. A lot of pressure—oooof”
I kissed the side of your cheek affectionately, my hand still wrapped around your shoulders while the other squeezed your thigh. “You’re doing brilliantly, my love. Just keep breathing through them.” I shifted in my seat to hide my obvious arousal. The idea that you might start pushing right here in this venue was almost too much to bear. I took a long sip of my drink and focused back on the stage to distract myself.
Half way through the awards, after all the food had been consumed leaving dessert plates and empty wine bottles littering the table, you suddenly reached out and gripped my thigh squeezing tight. I looked over to you with a mix of concern and excitement. You had slumped slightly in your seat, spreading your legs wider under the table and tilting your hips up, your breasts and belly rising and falling with your rapid breathing.
“Breathe…. Breathe through it darling, we’re almost there.” I encouraged softly, my hand moving to rest upon your heavy belly sitting between your spread thighs, feeling the rock hard muscles beneath my fingers. You grunted a little, a sound I recognised, and my eyes nearly came out their sockets.
“Don’t push darling… you need to hold it a little longer okay.” I tried to soothe you, but my heart was thumping in my chest and my insides were coiling with unbridled excitement.
“M-my— waters—” you croaked, relaxing after the intense contraction.
I looked down; from above your dress looked completely dry but when I felt underneath the top layer I felt the liquid that was now dripping down your inner thighs and onto the floor. Quickly grabbing my fabric napkin and yours, I dropped them under the table, putting one between your legs and the other on the floor to soak up the worst of it.
“Shhhh… you’re okay my love. Looks like it’s nearly time, baby wants to meet us.” My hand moved possessively over your belly, my smile wide and beaming with pride. You smiled, your cheeks flushed a little, leaning closer to kiss me softly.
“Can we go now?” You asked quietly, and I noticed the light sheen of sweat on your forehead.
“Yes darling, you’ve done wonderfully. Let’s go and meet our new baby—”
Then my name very loudly echoed across the hall and all eyes were focused in our direction. The award. Shit. My boss was standing on stage, crystal award in hand, and everyone began to clap.
“Damn— I erm— do I go—” my words fumbled from my mouth as I looked between you and the stage. You were absolutely full to the brim with our baby, so close to delivering…. But staying would mean you would have to hold on a little bit longer, and that thought sent a shiver up my spine.
“Go sweetheart, go get your award.” You said affectionately, putting a hand on my cheek.
“Are you sure? You’re incredible.” I kissed your lips, both of us basqued under a spotlight from the venue, and then I walked quickly up to the stage to receive my award.
Looking out across the crowd my eyes were focused only on you. Sitting proudly at our table, your eyes beamed with joy as you clapped along with the rest of the room. Clearing my throat, trying to regain professional composure, I began my speech. Your eyes glistened with affection and pride, hanging onto my every word even though you had heard me practice this over and over again.
Then I noticed a change in you, barely perceptible to anyone else but I knew your body better than my own. You tensed, your smiling expression now forced, and you had one hand gripping the edge of the table while the other moved to the underside of your belly. Fumbling my words I was utterly distracted watching you in the middle of the crowd, secretly riding out what looked like an intense contraction. I was in awe of you, still smiling and beaming with pride, while your body squeezed and contracted and opened for our baby. You’d never looked more beautiful.
I regurgitated my well rehearsed speech, looking only at you, as if the rest of the room no longer existed. Your full and swollen bosom was rising and falling rapidly atop your large, firm belly, and you seemed to be panting silently through the wave. Minutes passed and contraction wasn’t letting you go, I was still talking and you were still squirming in your chair. I watched as you grit your teeth, gripping the sides of your chair and spreading your legs wider under the table. Your demeanor shifted, something had changed. I could see your jaw clamped, teeth almost bared, and your face was contorted with effort—
Holy shit you were pushing!!!
I gripped the podium in front of me, my hips twitching, the sight of you pushing nearly throwing me over the edge of ecstasy. Clearing my throat, I managed to continue my speech, all the while I watched you instinctively push right there in the middle of this formal event. I smirked as I got towards the end, where I very publicly thanked my beautiful pregnant wife. All eyes across the venue suddenly turned in your direction. I didn’t know what you’d do, whether you’d admit defeat and acknowledge your labour, or if you’d continued to hide the fact you were uncontrollably pushing….
To my surprise, your face broke into a wide gleeful grin as you waved at me on stage and blew a kiss across the room, amazingly keeping up appearances. But your legs were wide under the table, I could see from this position up on the stage just how far apart they’d spread. Was our baby crowning underneath that silk dress of yours? How close were they to coming out? How long could you keep up pretences before nature took full control?…
I practically skipped off the stage back towards our table, the room clapping with obligatory applause.
“You’re pushing.” I whispered in your ear as I bent down to kiss your cheek.
“Mmmmh— couldn’t help it—” you growled a reply, equally as quiet but heavy with effort.
“We can’t leave right now, everyone will be watching us.” I sat down in my chair beside you, slipping my arm around you and pulling you closer into an embrace.
“I— I know—” you were panting, legs spread under the table, your hand gripping my thigh and digging your nails in.
“How much longer can you hold on darling? How close is the baby?” My words were thick with excitement.
“Baby… is low… but I don’t think… they’re crowning yet…. But-unhhhhhhhhhh-I can’t stop pushing—”
“Shhhhh… you’re doing brilliantly my love. If you can, try little pushes for now. We don’t know if you’re fully dilated and we don’t want you to tear.” I cooed, stroking your thigh that was spread open right against mine.
As the next award was announced, I heard you grunting during the applause. You said the baby wasn’t crowning but those sounds you were making, your subtle movements, were all too familiar to me. We certainly weren’t going to make it home for this birth, and I doubted if we’d even make it to the car. And yet you gave me no signs of wanting to move, staring blankly up at the stage as your chest heaved and your belly contracted, silently pushing our baby closer to this world.
“You’re doing wonderful darling, so incredible. Keep doing what your body tells you—”
“— I can feel the head—” you suddenly blurted out, twitching on your seat and pulling your legs together with an obvious grimace.
“Let’s go, now while everyone’s distracted.” I put my arms around you, helping you out of your chair. You were trembling.
“Mmmmmgh— it feels like the baby is gonna fall out—” you moaned under your breath, cradling your belly as you rose to your feet.
I laughed a little, supporting your hips. “It’s not going to fall out sweetheart, you’ve got a lot more pushing to go yet.” I purred in your ear as I led you out the dinner hall, your legs were unsteady and your gait was obscenely wide. I had no idea what was going on under your clothing, how close the baby was to being born, which only made this whole situation all the more thrilling.
Beyond the doors of the formal company dinner, the moan that came from your mouth was deep and guttural as you stopped to brace against a nearby wall. Palms to the flat surface your hips jerked backwards against me as you bore down uncontrollably.
“Nnnnnghhh— ohhhhhh I can feel the head— starting to come out—”
I rubbed your back and hips, squeezing and providing counter pressure that I knew you’d need. “Try not to push too hard babe… we need to get you back to the car…”
Realising the corridor was empty, all guests inside the dinner hall, I slipped a hand under the silk fabric of your dress climbing up your inner thigh to feel your progress. I didn’t even make it to your entrance as I felt the distinct bulge of your underwear, the head nestled so low it was pushing against your lower lips.
“Oh fuck babe…. The head is right there…” I groaned, fingers running across the damp fabric of your cotton underwear.
“Nnnnnghh— I know— I can feel it— trying to come out—” you huffed, your fingers curling against the wall as your body continued to bear down without your permission.
“Hold on a bit longer— we need to get you to the car.” I tried to plead with you but I knew you were not the one in control here. We were at the mercy of Mother Nature. We played a dangerous game and I just hoped I could get you somewhere private.
“I don’t know if I can make it—”
“What do you need darling? What do you want to do?” I groaned into your ear, my body flushed behind you, my hands still under your dress between your legs.
“Nnnnghh— hold it in— while I push—” you spluttered as you widened your stance, preparing for another push.
My hand moved, cupping your womanhood with my palm. “I’ve got you baby— do what you need to do—” I could barely contain my excitement at what was happening. My body tensed in time with yours and I felt the bulge against my palm grow as you pushed, the first sliver of our baby starting to part you from within.
“Keep going, my love, I won’t let them come out too fast.”
Your sounds were deep and gravelled and primal, but not loud enough to draw the attention of anyone inside the venue. One… two… three grunting pushes against my palm and the baby hadn’t made much progress. Thankfully.
“Ohhhh— okay— it’s passed—” you croaked, pushing yourself away from the wall and catching your breath.
“Are you ready to try walking to the car again?” My hand moved up and down your lower back affectionately, keeping you supported.
You nodded, running a hand over the full swell of your belly. “Yes, let’s keep moving. But we need to go slow… the head is right there, just inside of me.”
Growling at your statement, I wrapped my arm around your waist to support you as we both walked slowly down the corridor. “I know darling, it’s really close. Our little one is very eager to meet us.” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face, looking down at you with that full belly, your bow-legged walk, on the cusp of giving birth at any moment.
We made it out of the venue but on the steps out the front of the building you abruptly stopped and grabbed the railing, bending your knees and grunting with an uncontrollable push.
“Oh darling…” I quickly moved my hands to your hips to support you as your body bore down instinctively. “This one really is in a hurry. Just go with it, but we need to get you to the car soon.”
You shuddered and almost mooed with the effort of your push, your body taking full control in this moment in a desperate bid to expel our baby from your womb. Over and over again you pushed. I couldn’t move my hands to check your progress, they were supporting all your weight at this moment. We were halfway down the steps outside the venue and nowhere near our car, a far cry from the privacy I wanted for our child’s birth.
You grunted with each push, the sound sending all the blood in my body to my crotch. I knew from our previous births just how hard you were pushing, knowing the baby was probably slipping forward and back under your dress with each push. “Sweetheart…. Are we going to make it back to the car?” I asked nervously, feeling your knees bend a little more, your hips lowering slightly.
“Nnnnnghhh—don’t know— it’s definitely— starting to c-c-c-crown—!” You groaned between pushes.
When the contraction finished you were gasping for air as you twisted from the railing and sagged into my arms. “My…. My knickers… seem to be keeping the baby… from coming out….” Your voice was a caressed whisper against my chest.
“You’re doing amazing, my love. You’re an incredible goddess.” I said, kissing the top of your head and holding you and your swollen belly against me. “Do you want to keep going? Or are we having this baby right here?”
The look you gave me was filled with both pleasure and pain, your eyes glistening with dark enjoyment. “Let’s— keep going— I can hold them in….”
I took this moment between contractions to feel your progress, my hands running from you hip down your leg and up under your dress. Your body shivered when I reached the apex of your thighs.
“Are you sure about that, my love?” I asked with a teasing arch of my eyebrows as my fingers brushed over your underwear. “That’s not just you I can feel…. The baby’s head is really starting to crown.”
“I- I know—” your words were breathy and husky, and I could tell you were feeling extremely full right now.
“And you think you can walk all the way across the car park with a baby between your legs?” My fingers gently stroked circles on the soft flesh of your inner thigh.
You nodded, but your face grimaced with another contraction and you started to pant against my chest, squeezing my shoulders.
“You want to push again, don’t you sweetheart?”
You nodded against me.
“But you don’t want to give birth right here?”
You shook your head.
My hand then moved back over the partially crowned head in your underwear, cupping the sphere and holding it in place.
“Shhh… it’s okay I got you. Push baby…. You can push now….” I growled into your ear as I wrapped my arm around your waist while the other was cupped between your legs. “Push right against my hand— that’s it— I’ll keep you from crowning fully…”
It felt like your entire body was quaking against me as you submitted to your body’s instincts and bore down right against my palm. The sounds you made were animalistic and feral, it was music to my ears. You pushed for another minute and a half, with each one I could feel the pressure from the baby’s head pressing more and more against my palm. Eventually you were released from the contraction, breathing heavily and barely able to stand.
“Let’s…go….before…the…next one…comes…” you whispered, exhausted but clearly aroused.
Together we walked slowly across the carpark, our car seemed like a mirage in the distance, but you were determined and I was more than happy to comply. I wondered how many times we would have to stop on the way, how many times I would need to cup your bulging lips, so you could have the birth you wanted in the comfort of our car.
impending birth reflecting feelings of impending doom. feeling your belly drop, the baby getting lower, hips aching...being so, so scared of what has to happen. wanting it out--it's so heavy--but also praying that it stays in, for just one more day. putting yourself on bedrest, trying to delay the inevitable, when you feel that first practice contraction. knowing that the longer you wait, the bigger it gets, but trying to put it off anyway.
i just fucking love the idea of someone way taller than me knocking me up.
letting out another deep sigh as i rest my hands underneath my huge belly. another, stranger has looked between us today. running their eyes up and down your tall form. taking in your broad shoulders, and well muscled arms. god, i already know what their thinking.
big daddy = big baby. big daddy + short & plump mommy = big belly for mama.
its embarrassing. it makes me hyper aware of my size. but god does it also turn me the fuck on. everyone knows im carrying your big baby. our “baby giant” we like to call him. i know how much others admire your looks, when you enter a room. but you’re not even looking at them are you?
your strong and capable hands hovering over my hips, ready to catch me as my wobbly gait always puts you on edge. my huffing and puffing from carrying such a large baby has you blushing, ears tipped red. and lets not forget how your gaze strays every which way i waddle.
this is your sign to breed a girl with a pregnancy kink.
no, not a breeding kink. i’m talking about pregnancy. a girl who’s always dreamt of carrying a baby. a girl who wants to have sex and get pregnant.
impregnate the girl who wants your seed. who wants her breasts to fill and ache with milk as soon as your seed takes root inside her. she’s the girl who’s number 1 dream in life is to be a mother. she’ll nurture and care for your babies beautifully and she’ll enjoy herself plenty while carrying them.
her pregnant belly will be celebrated. she’ll always want your hands on her and when they’re not? she’ll be holding her bump plenty for the both of you. always with a hand cupping the big curve, rubbing, patting. she’ll want you to hold her belly to help her rock the baby to sleep, press your ear against it when she’s reading a book for the baby, and will grab your hand and plant it right on her belly in public.
god don’t forget her hormones. this girl has dreamt for the moment her pussy swells and becomes sensitive from her pregnancy. constantly rubbing up against you when you’re near. panting and whining as she rocks onto your dick, begging for your cock like she isn’t already knocked up.
it should be your goal, dream, and priority to make one of these soon to be baby mamas yours. so why not start now? oh? you don’t know any? that’s funny…
When you decided to handle your werewolf boyfriend your panties after a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the mall, you had a lot of ideas of what could happen, and well, maybe you were expecting him to do exactly as he did. You thought it would be funny. You thought it would make him a bit feral and he would take you home intermediately.
But that’s not what happened.
Not at all.
You walk past him, pushing your panties into his front pocket and smiling up at him like the little shit you are. He smiles at you, not processing what just happened, but the second he sniffs the air and pats his pocket. You can see his pupils expanding and his canines getting bigger in his mouth, his tail wagging behind him making him look equally fearsome and adorable.
“What did you just do, love?” His question sounds dangerous, his voice almost a growl that makes your whole body shiver.
“Giving you something to look forward to,” you respond, the brattiness in your tone making his eyelid twitch. You smile bigger, making him show you his fangs as you walk ahead, swinging your hips side to side more than necessary, tempting him even further.
You don’t see him coming, you don’t see his arm rounding your shoulders and pulling you along with him into one of the mall bathrooms. He closes the door behind him and you feel caged, he’s so very big in front of you, almost twice your size, and when he leans down and licks your parted lips, you let out a broken whine. He smirks and does it again, claiming your mouth in a kiss that’s more teeth than lips and has you panting desperately in seconds.
His hands are everywhere, squeezing your soft belly, cupping your boobs, groping your ass… You two are making out like you need each other like you need air. And it’s not far from the truth. But when his hands pull down the top of your dress and turn you around so your ass is to his front, you start to realize how much trouble your bratiness brought you. (And how much you are enjoying it.)
You look over your shoulder, your body trembling as he takes out his monster cock. “He- here?! We can’t.” His dick slaps against your ass where he pulled up your dress, exposing your fat ass to his hungry eyes.
“You should have thought about it before giving me your panties in the middle of the mall, love.” That’s the only thing he says before he’s rubbing his dick up and down your wet pussy, teasing you with the tip, rubbing it against your clit until your legs feel shaky and he’s smirking down at you like the hungry wolf he is.
“But… But I thought it would be funny,” you try to excuse yourself, but his free hand is groping your boob and pinching your nipple so hard you yelp, making him let out a chuckle as he does it again. Your pussy is so wet you can hear his dick rubbing up and down.
“Does this feel funny?” He asks, pressing his huge hard dick against your entrance, making you react like a Pavlov dog, your mouth already salivating and your pussy getting wetter. He sniffs the air and smirks, “that’s what I thought, always such a dirty girl.” He accompanies his words with a caress to your full ass, groping it until you are panting loudly.
“Someone… someone could hear,” you whisper-shout to him. He chuckles, finding funny that you think that when he knows damn well how horny it makes you the possibility of getting caught. But he complies to your unasked plea and covers your mouth with his big hand (it almost covers your whole face with it).
“Then they’ll know how much of a needy pussy you have,” he whispers against your ear, his huge hand traveling to your breast, covering it completely, squeezing it and rubbing your hard nipple with his thumb until you moan. “Such a needy pussy that you need to be knotted in a public bathroom,” he adds, making you blush harder, your whole body shivering as you feel your panties getting wetter. He can tell, and the wolfish smile he’s supporting only gets bigger.
“But- but…” You try to say against his hand, but you don’t get to finish that thought before he’s pushing his tip inside of you.
It’s always a struggle, he’s so big, such a monster cock that it always takes you a few tries to get the tip inside, and even then, it’s a tight fit, so tight he’s grunting at each millimeter he gets in. “Fuck, how can you be so tight after all the times I’ve fucked your raw?” He asks rhetorically. Even if you wanted to answer you could, his hand covering your mouth still. He keeps pushing, and pushing, until you can feel him at the back of your throat and your brain is short-circuiting with the stretch. “Come on, love, just a few more centimeters.” You cry out against his hand, biting down and making him growl as he keeps going.
By the time he bottoms out your eyes are teary, and he’s grunting low and hard, something similar to a wolf purr that drives your neurons into overdrive as he wriggles his hips and sends sparks of pleasure all over your body. Once your body gives in and you can feel your pussy squeezing him inside, he doesn’t hesitate, he starts fucking you like a machine as you moan with each thrust.
It doesn’t take long before you are coming messily around him, adding more wetness to the mess he’s making off you. “Are you ready to be bred, love? I can feel your cunt squeezing me, she want’s my come deep inside…” You whine. “I’m going to knot you until your legs can’t hold you up anymore and you are so full of me you have to walk out with your legs pressed together.” His words are like gasoline to a fire. “And then they’d know… Everyone will know how much of a needy girl you are, how much you enjoy werewolf come dripping down your legs you can’t even wait to get home. That you had to be fucked in a mall and you are walking home with your pussy all messy because of it… Ts, ts, ts… Such a dirty, dirty girl, I can feel your pussy squeezing me as I talk, do you like it, love? Do you like to be fucked on a mall where everyone could know what a dirty girl you are?”
You can only nod, your body sagging against his arms as he holds you up, your legs giving up under you as his dick hits the deepest parts of your pussy. It’s maddening. And you are so glad he’s so big and strong that he can hold your big body up because you have no energy as he keeps fucking you like the monster he is.
And then you feel his knot widening, you feel the expansion at the entrance of your pussy as your brain turns into mush and you scream in his hand. Your body is shaking with another orgasm as his knot presses against your G-spot and he grunts, the first shot of his come hitting you so deep and hot… You are going insane.
You are so focused on the way his come feels inside of you and how full you are that you don’t even hear the door opening and closing before someone is saying from outside the stall: “Sir, ma'am… You need to leave or I’ll have to call the cops.”
“We’ll be right out…” your boyfriend responds, amused. “In a minute,” he mumbles under his breath, chuckling at his own joke.
But you know that’s a lie, there’s no way his knot is going down anytime soon… and you aren’t sure you even care as as he rolls his hips and makes you moan again, and he laughs out loud.
By the time his knot goes down, there’s come dripping down your thighs and he’s smiling with such smugness you can only look to the floor as he guides you out of the bathroom with a hand in your lower back. You can feel more come gushing with each step, and you regret giving him your panties… Kinda.
Oh baby girl, what are you doing? I heard you moaning so low and deep. Oh. Look at you. So horribly pregnant you can't find comfort in anything. Your back screaming from the baby and the all the weight in your heavy belly and tits. Belly aching as my big fat baby drops low in your heavy uterus. All the terrible pressure bearing down right on top of your poor vagina as you get lightening crotch.
Sweetheart, you look like your in pure misery carrying Daddy's baby right now. Want you to squat as low and deep as you can and you ride the wave. I know you want to push so badly. I know you've reached your limit. You're doing such a good job. Daddy is so proud of you for carrying his babies.
That's it baby girl, keep moaning it out loud. Daddy will get on the floor and softly rub and play with that swollen bulging pussy while you groan and grunt with your heavy pregnancy.
You're doing such a good job babe. You're fucking glowing.
I don't like posting political things, but honestly, if you voted for that fucking fool get off my page. Unfollow me. Good bye. Have the life you deserve.