Rebecca’s legs burned as she held herself in position. Her new weight, her new size, it was almost too much for her body to support. Even though at least a dozen of the numerous extra pounds she’d gained had gone to the muscles in her quads, hamstrings, and butt, even that was just barely enough to support all of the extra maternal curves she now carried. As she looked down at herself, one hand instinctively reaching to her back for support, Rebecca couldn’t help be awed by what she was.
All of this–these massive breasts, this incredible dome of a stomach, the gargantuan backside that made any chair she sat in a lounge chair–was all her. Every inch, every pound, it belonged to her. It was the most surreal thing, because at times she felt marooned in her own form, a prisoner of the life she was so expertly growing inside her. And yet other times it felt completely natural, almost right, even, to be this big. The constant fullness she now experienced was somehow both alien and a completely normal part of her existence.
Slowly, carefully, Rebecca eased her bulk forward, her vast belly gradually eclipsing her husband as he lay on the bed, waiting for her. In a moment she felt the stubble of his beard on the underside of her dome, and a another moment later a moan escaped her lips as she felt the first caress of his tongue. Being this big certainly did have its benefits after all.
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