Kly_Remi @klyremi - Tumblr Blog

And They Were Roommates (Part 3)

TMPREG, eventual M/F, Hyperpregnancy, Extreme baby movement, F masturbation, lactation, adult breastfeeding, slight feederism.

Loosely inspired by prompt 465.6, “it’s not common but id love to see some het mpreg. give me an alpha woman taking care of her super preggers omega bf. lol”

Synopsis: Amber has a big crush on her roommate. He just so happens to be a hugely pregnant transman. And in this chapter, they take their relationship to the next level.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

“Oooooh,” Charlie lowed, hands pressed desperately against his strapped-up belly. “Fuck, please, Amber, sweetie, I need to stop, I’m gonna burst!” At 39 weeks pregnant with ten children, his manwomb was swollen to such a size that he was more womb than man. Besides the sheer number of fetuses gestating in his colossal belly, and the obvious rarity of a pregnant transman, his pregnancy had been unusual in one more way; in a normal case of high-order multiples, there was a reduction in growth with each fetus being smaller than a singleton of comparable gestation. In this case, however, not only did each of the children straining Charlie’s belly match a singleton in size they exceeded them, shooting into the 99th growth percentile.

At his last scan, delivered at home since his swollen womb made him much too large to fit through the door, Doctor Lantry, his obstetrician, had estimated their weights to be in the range of eleven to thirteen pounds. As if it wasn’t agony enough to have something like 120 pounds of baby squirming in his belly the sheer strain on his womb had triggered an overproduction of amniotic fluid known as polyhydramnios meaning that he had double that weight in fluid and placenta stealing whatever last bit of space remained in his womb and swelling him to such a ludicrous size that he was in his current situation.

Doctor Lantry had insisted that he go into a hospital for specialist support during the birth, but Charlie was terrified of being turned into a freakshow for medical interns to gawk at, or worse that a man with a baby belly the size of a grand piano would end up splashed across tabloids up and down the country. He wanted to give birth in private, and what her man wanted, he got.

“Hold on, honey, you’re almost there.” Amber, his girlfriend, said into the back of their rented moving van. Almost the totality of the storage space was just her boyfriend, specifically his womb, rippling with the movement of his colossal brood. He had grown so large that fitting him through the doors of their flat, or indeed even the rooms of their flat had become almost impossible.

To that end, Amber had rented a country manor with tall, wide doors that could fit even a preposterously pregnant man with ease. He had wanted privacy and so she picked one that was far out in the countryside, ten miles from the nearest village. Getting him there had been an ordeal, requiring the rented moving van and a long ramp, along with a hospital bed since he was now so pregnant as to be effectively bedbound. Lastly, it had required cargo straps to make sure that a sharp turn wouldn’t cause his 360-pound womb to roll around and throw the vehicle off balance, or crush her poor, over-pregnant boyfriend under the weight of his own fertility.

The journey out of the suburbs had been fraught, but once they were on the motorway, it had been smooth sailing…. For a while. As they neared their rented manor, the narrow and winding country roads had forced more than one harsh turn, which elicited pained wails from her man. She hated putting him through all of this, to hear his screams of pain as the unborn horde colonising his belly stretched and strained and threw their weight around his massively distended womb.

There was a stretch of downhill road where Charlie quivered breathlessly as the weight of his womb squashed the air from his lungs and steep uphill climbs that had him convinced his belly was going to rip off of him.

But it all turned her on. God, it turned her on. She loved to hear him wail and beg and plead with his own belly, his voice cracking from the strain. She had kissed him all across his belly as she strapped him into the van, from that bulging belly button to the point where the great swell met his sternum.

She knew how it made him feel to have a belly so big they literally needed a bigger building to house him in his last few weeks of gestation, but to her, this felt more like finding an appropriate temple for a god of fertility, ripe and ready to burst.

Speaking of ready to burst, Amber’s milk production had not let up one bit since she made the decision to induce lactation. Her flushed, swollen udders were desperate for relief, and she was desperate to feed her man.

Eventually, they reached the rented manor, which was situated at the end of a gravel path in the middle of a forest clearing. Tall and broad it could sleep a dozen with space to do so comfortably.

“We’re here!” Amber yelled, partly out of excitement and partly to be heard over her boyfriend’s pained moaning.

What she saw when she hopped into the back of the van took the colour out of her cheeks. Charlie’s belly was often rippling with the squirming of his unborn children, indeed the only time they were at peace was when he suckled from her teat but the stress of the ride had clearly put them into overdrive. He had bitten onto one of his cargo straps to stop himself from screaming. Even as their father was on the verge of a panic attack the unborn horde barely contained within his womb kicked on indifferent to his suffering. Huge throbbing shapes warped the stretchmarked surface of his belly in a dozen places, lumps and valleys forming and unforming constantly. Her man ran a hand over what little of his belly he could reach, his head lolling back and forth as he endured the violence in his womb. His other hand clutched white-knuckle-tight around another of the loading straps. Far away from the rest of him, his poor, tortured belly button bulged like a cork ready to blow.

She ran over to him and pulled the strap out of his mouth.

“Aaaayyyyghhh Amber, nghhhh it hurts, it hurts so fucking much, please mnghhhh! Please don’t let me burst,” “Shhh, shh, it’s okay,” Amber said as she freed one of her ponderous, milkswollen breasts. “Let’s calm you down.”

No sooner had she jammed one of her tits into his mouth than he began to drain her dry. With one hand she soothed his belly, feeling the crashing motions of his unborn children, and with the other she milked herself, thick white jets spurting onto the swell of his poor, tortured womb.

She lost herself to the ecstasy of emptying herself into him and onto him, she was not sure how long she nursed her man only that by the time he let go of her breast and told her he was full, she still had a way to go before she was empty.

“Not until I say we’re done, you want the babies to be big and healthy don’t you?” she said sweetly, offering up her other breast to him.

“They’re already sooo big,” he groaned, his long, slender-fingered hands spidered over the mere fraction of his gigantic belly he could actually reach.

“And they always behave themselves when they’re well fed,” she said, squeezing a spurt of milk across his chin. She saw him lick it, she knew he loved her taste. She had him. “You know you want to.”

Without another word he latched onto her and drank deeply from her other breast.

“Mmmhm” she cooed encouragingly. “That’s it daddy, take care of our babies, you’re such a good papa,” she said, one hand gently stroking his bump as the other cupped the his head to her chest, fingers running through his hair. “Oooh and you treat your big milking mamma so well, you’re such a good boy, I love feeding you, daddy”

All good things must come to an end, and so it was that eventually she ran empty and Charlie, his overfull stomach stretched just that little bit more by her thick mother’s milk, really could hold no more.

“Alright, let’s get you moved in,” she said with a gentle caress of his stomach, the movements within reduced to languid, almost gentle lumps moving slowly beneath the surface of that oceanic uterus.

The process of moving Charlie into the house was slow and laborious. Indeed, several times she feared that the stress of moving his pregnant bulk would have sent him into labour. She admitted to herself that the concept of him screaming into the open sky, stuck in some awkward position as he shoved his babies out was appealing but it was hardly safe. The first step was getting him off of the truck, which consisted of setting up a sequence of portable ramps - similar to the kind used by offroaders to ford small gaps - and then very carefully wheeling him down using a tow cable mounted in the truck hooked to his bed and then slowly easing his paternal mass down as gently as she could.

“Just be careful I don’t crush you!” Charlie fretted as she went ahead of him down the ramp.

“Oh what a way to go,” she whispered to herself, imagining the writhing weight of his belly squashing her into the floor, the pendulous sackfull of his brood pummelling her through the skin of his womb. That package couldn’t get here soon enough.

The manor, being wheelchair accessible, was entered by a long, low ramp at the front of the main building. Being as it was an actual Disability-Law compliant architectural feature and not an amateurish adhoc solution it was far less rickety and far less stressful to get Charlie into the house.

Once inside a long, broad hall ran the length of the house to a conservatory in the back some fifty metres away. Skylight ran through the second floor illuminating the corridor where light from the front and back could not reach. The dolley’s casters glided easily over the well oiled hardwood in the entrance hall and back towards the living room. The room was something out of a Victorian bodice-ripper meshed with a 70’s swinger pad. Two floors high with the entirety of one wall given over to bookshelves, the second level accessed by a wheeled ladder. A well appointed entertainment centre sat in front of a lushly padded conversation pit. Elsewhere in the room was a reading nook, a hifi with space to dance and a few sofas for those who didn’t fancy the pit. Rich blue and black feather-patterned wallpaper glinted darkly in contrast with the rich dark hardwoods of the fittings and furniture.

“Chrsit alive Amber how can you afford all of this?”

“Quite easily, things have really picked up now that I have someone to motivate me,” she said giving him a long kiss on the mouth and then a few quick pecks on the belly. “A whole lot of someones.”

It was true, Her recent promotion and the extra money from her OnlyFans modelling had been a good start but only the start. She worked in the software industry, specifically she worked for Atomsense, a company that developed specialist software used in nuclear reactors. Or at least she had, after solving some data modelling problems to get a software upgrade through government approvals on time she had been snapped up as a special consultant to Department for Science, Innovation and Technology in a unique role that required proven experience and qualifications in both nuclear engineering and corporate programming as well as the people skills to get bureaucrats to put their faith in high science they could never understand. Needless to say, she commanded a high salary.

With a stable and high paying salary she could invest the nest-egg she had made from the web into several lucrative business investments meaning that even with the exorbitant cost of renting the manor and all of her other expenses she was still around £100 richer day after day. She was not yet a millionaire but if all held, she would be time she retired.

But her real wealth was right next to her, breathing heavily and sighing to himself.

“Now, where do you want me to park you?”

“Can you put me by the dining table, it’s almost time for dinner.”

The hospital bed did not provide enough room for Amber to cuddle with her boyfriend given the colossal size of his womb, so instead she stood by him for a long while leaned across his belly so that his head laid against her chest, and his big ripe belly was wobbling against her own midriff.

“I’m so sleepy, I hope you don’t mind but I think the babies want me to take a nap,”

She kissed him. “Then sleep,”

When she was sure Charlie was sleeping deeply enough that she wouldn’t wake him she got out a tape measure and her phone and began assessing the dimension of his colossal stomach, which turned out to be an eyewatering 270 centimetres from sternum to pelvis. Measuring his shoulders, his legs and his inseam all produced far more sane and rational numbers.

She crunched a few numbers, made some calculations and went into another room to make some calls. She also had to move in their luggage.

When all was said and done it was time to sort dinner. Which meant something very different after the increase in her fortunes. Within a half hour she had half of the local takeaway's menu delivered to their door.

She was both far and near to Charlie as she watched him feed. Standing a few feet from his head, she massaged the great prow of his belly as he ate ravenously. His skin was slick with sweat and stretched tight around his massive brood.

“How’s my big daddy getting on with his dinner,”

“There’s no room but I just keep shoving it in,” he whimpered. “God the babies are so hungry, I’m so hungry, I can’t get enough. Can I milk you afterwards, love.”

She purred as she leaned over that gloriously bloated womb of his. Her long, slender fingers seemed miniscule as she draped them over her lover’s belly.

“You know just what I want to hear, babe,” she said and kissed his bellybutton. Her lust got the better of her and she found herself slathering the stretched rubbery nub with slathering kisses until she was practically fellating his fecund tip.

“Ohhhh god,” he groaned, his voice muffled with food. “That’s it, oh I feel like I’m gonna blow,” he said, and swallowed before he let out a throaty moan, for once a moan of lust instead of pain.

“I’m such a belly perv aren’t I babe,” she said, hugging close against his vast, fatherly frontage. “And I’m so lucky I’ve got a big, handsome, fertile, daddy to dote on,”

When he was fully fed she snuggled closer to his chest and offered him desert.

“Your milk’s ready baby,” she said, pulling her bra down and playfully spurting some onto him.

Without another word he suckled just as desperately as he had in the van, his tongue flicking expertly over her teet. Immediately she felt herself release in him, waves of pressure pooling in her tits and jetting into him on a creamy white tide. She willed herself to produce more, spurt faster, fill her man’s hunger completely.

With a shudder she came, spurting her milk like a broken waterpipe on the release. Charlie sucked on until he was full, working her up near to the point of a second orgasm.

After excusing herself to finish off she came back with a small box held with great reverence in both hands.

“Charlie, I have something really important I want to ask you?”

“Of course - oh my god is that -” he said, barely coherent with shock.

She knelt beside her monstrously pregnant boyfriend and opened it “Will you marry me, Charlie?”

She saw him break into hormone-spurred tears of joy. “Oh, Amber, of course I will!”

—------------------------

“Be polite, be respectful, and do not ask my husb - my fiance about his condition,” She realised as she spoke she must have seemed quite a peculiar sight herself, spilling out of a wedding dress in the corridor of a rented country house.

“It’s alright, you meet people going through all sorts of things when you do a job like this,” said Claire, a cheerful notary with whom Amber had arranged their small, private wedding. “A lot of people choose a home wedding because of health issues,”

“Good, it’s just that my Charlie’s very sensitive about the way he looks and I don’t want anything spoiling our big day.” Amber said as she led them into the living room.

“Of course I-” it took a long time to get through the rest of her sentence as she looked over the very, very, very, VERY pregnant groom waiting for her in the main room. Laid out on a medical bed, he wore a suit of ludicrous proportions, which Amber had needed to lie about and say was intended as a prop in a surrealist arthouse movie. The blazer and trousers were black with grey pinstripes, all very normal. But then there was a white cotton shirt that swelled out more than seven feet in front of him, dozens of buttons straining to contain a belly that overhung the edge of his bed by a considerable margin. For a moment she thought it might have been some sort of prank, then she noticed the sore red stretchmarks and occasional freckle showing and assumed it was a growth of some sort until the Groom, Charlie, winced in time with a bulge underneath the fabric of his shirt. He was pregnant. Mid bogglingly, terrifyingly pregnant.

Standing as witnesses to this unusual union were two women, Doctor Lantry, and one of the nurses from her clinic, who she had called up to provide an ultrasound before the ceremony. Both of them were looking at Charlie with the sort of concern that implied they were worried they would have to go to work any moment. Indeed, the Doctor had let Amber know she had bought her birthing kit with her.

“Thank you for having me,” Claire eventually managed to get out.

“Oooh,” Charlie groaned, hands absently trying to stroke his belly through his shirt. “Thanks for coming out to us.”

“Shall we begin,” Amber said as she stepped beside her husband-to-be, his stomach so large that going face to face would have been a farce.

“We are gathered here to witness the wedding of Charlie Carter and Amber Garton” Claire, the notary said as she went through the boilerplate of officiating a wedding. She was interrupted periodically by the gasps and whimpers of the very pregnant man in front of her.

“I pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride,” she said at last.

It was really more Amber kissing her new husband, she crouched down and kissed him passionately, her huge flushed breasts pressed against his chest. She rested a hand on his huge pregnant belly.

They used his gigantic womb as a table, mostly because Amber thought it was hot as fuck, and quickly signed the necessary paperwork.

Claire made some polite small talk and then zipped off to get it processed, though from the way she scurried out of there it seemed more like she was scared of the new husband rupturing in front of her.

Doctor Lantry stayed longer.

She approached the happy couple with the stiff politeness of a consummate professional. “Congratulations, Mister and Misses Carter” she said guardedly. “But you really need to consider induction, you’ve done well to get this far and your last sonogram says the babies are all healthy but there’s no need to strain yourself this much, frankly I think the babies should have come out of you weeks ago, but they can come out today if you’ll just let me arrange transport to a hospital.”

“No,” Charlie said breathily, his flushed cherubic features seeming particularly innocent as he could only look up at her from his spot in the bed. His womb was starting to throb with activity. “Thank you for being such a good doctor, but I just can’t face a hospital,”

“Besides,” Amber said lustily as she pawed her husband’s belly. “I think these kids will come soon enough.”

“Fine, look I don’t live that far from here, give me a call if anything changes,”

Doctor Lantry and her nurse left and finally they were alone.

“Ugh, I thought I was going to pop a button,” Charlie groaned, hands resting against the top curve of his huge bump.

“I kind of wish you had, imagine the looks on their faces when my big sexy hubby shows a little skin.” Amber said as she walked past him in the direction of the dinner table. “Now wit there,”

She wheeled in a utilitarian metal table and positioned it at a right angle to Charlie’s bed as close to the edge of his bed as she could get.

She scooted backwards onto the table and laid back with her legs hanging open off to either side. Peaking over her milk-heavy breasts she watched his already flushed face blush deeper as he took her all on, laid on the edge of the table with her legs hanging off the side.

“Eat, and maybe I’ll feed you later,” she said, pinching a thick jet of milk from her right breast to encourage him.

Laying back she heard his laboured breathing get nearer and nearer. Eventually a hand reached up her thigh towards her panties. She slapped it away. “My garter first, I’m your wife now Mister Carter, you have to treat me right,”

A hand reached for her garter belt. She slapped it away again.

“With your teeth. Show your wife how much you want it.”

Looking past herself she could see that great belly stir and lean as its owner stretched to his maximum to reach her.

Hands supported her calf and thigh. She felt teeth scrape her thigh and hot nostril breaths against her skin like some lustful beast. The fine lace of her garter trailed down her leg and off her ankle.

“Okay, now, you can have a piece of Misses Carter” she said, helping him slide off her panties, already sodden in anticipation.

Charlie was a slightly clumsy lover but what he lacked in experience he made up for with sheer enthusiasm. A tongue lapped hungrily at her womanhood and occasionally a kiss planted on her lap to show his affection. Her breasts flushed with milk, spurting all over the fine white fabric of her wedding dress. Somehow she suspected she would not be showing it off to their children someday. But as much as she felt a hot, erotic pressure welling in her tits, something even stronger was building down between her legs.

“OH! Oooh Charlie! Yes!” She squealed as she came so mightily that it seemed like her waters had somehow broken, despite her empty womb.

She sat up and locked eyes with her new husband. His face flushed and damp, a lovedrunk smile on his face.

“You’re delicious, you know that,” he said.

As a response she put her hand in his hair and then pressed his face back into her laps.

“Go for desert,” she said with a lusty chuckle.

He ate her out again, and then when she had orgasmed once more, he did something much more assertive than she expected. He grabbed her hips, dug his face in and went back for thirds. Then fourths, until finally, she was a panting, milkdrenched mess, her makeup smeared by sweat and joyful tears. Somewhere in her orgiastic gauntlet her fine updo had worked loose from her pleasured squirming.

“Alright, daddy alright.” she said, panting as if she had run a marathon. She pushed herself up to sitting, her arms quivering with sweet exhaustion. “That was lovely, what brought that on?”

He wiped her juice back from his face into his hair and down his neck and shoulders. “Well you always look after me, I ugh” he said, a soft sultry tone cut off with a grunt caused by the kicking which had not abated in his womb. “So I wanted to look after you. Besides you always get to see me looking a state, maybe I wanted to see you like that. Know I did that to you,”

“You're a new man now that we’re married Charlie, I love seeing you so confident,” she said, sliding off the table onto quivering legs, her gait unbalanced as she’d kicked off one of her heels on her third orgasm. “I suppose I should reward good behaviour,” she drank from one of her own tits and let some dribble down her chin.

During their tryst she had milked so mightily that a wet patch was dripping from the ceiling but she still had more welling up in her. She rested against her husband’s belly as she fed him, slowly recovering her strength as she fattened him more and more on her milk. She kissed him lazily on the mouth, along his jaw, and down his neck. She loved the way her juices commingled with his sweat, breathing in the smell of their union on her husband’s skin, sampling it with her tongue.

Between the exhaustion of her orgasms and the rippling cushion of her husband’s nigh-monstrous pregnancy she nearly dozed off mid feed before her husband said something so sexy it gave her back her second wind.

“I’m full, Ugh, I think I’m going to burst,” he said, his blue eyes heavy with lustful exertion.

“Good, you digest for a minute while I go get ready.”

Ten minutes passed and when she came back she had an exciting new device. The medical gurney that held her bedbound husband was all well and good, but for what came next she would need something that would hold up his huge, elephantine womb without getting in the way. To that end she rolled out a motorised medical lifting hammock similar to the type used to move people with limited mobility into and out of wheelchairs, baths and similar scenarios. In shape it was sort of like a motorised hammock with a soft medical cloth sheet to hold its user. Though it was designed to hold a person of considerable mass she was not entirely sure it would hold up under the weight of her husband’s belly. But she had to try.

“I’ve got a lot planned for you my love, do you trust me?” she asked as she wheeled it over to him,

“I do. I really do.”

With care and great gentleness she slipped the harness beneath the weighty swell of his beautiful, horrifyingly huge belly, the stubborn buttons of his shirt still hanging on across the fecund expanse. But she would change that.

Pressing a button on the hammock she watched with rapt attention as the hammock slowly lifted his belly off of his poor squashed thighs and then working in tandem she got him on his feet.

“Ohhh, oh my god, that actually feels kind of nice,” he said, resting a hand against his belly. “Ugh, what a weight off my hips, my back. Oh god, Ambs, if I didn’t feel like I was going to explode I could almost forget I’m pregnant.”

“You know I love to spoil you, my great big baby daddy,” she said proudly before planting a kiss on his bellybutton, which was roughly level with hers now that the hammock was doing its job. “Now don’t go anywhere, I’m just going to get a few more things to treat you,” she said, crossing past his belly to give him a kiss on the cheek before she disappeared out of the room.

She pulled away his dolly and a few minutes later came back with a couple of standing mirrors on it which she set up at angles just off to his sides.

As he went to ask she silenced him and told him to just be patient.

Another ten minutes passed before Amber reappeared. She looked crazed as she approached him. Her dress and hair dishevelled from her time on the table, her makeup and especially her mascara had run from sweat and orgasmic tears. Her fat breasts hung out of her wedding gown, nipples damp and glistening with milk. A look of sheer determined lust was plastered to her face as she bore down on her beloved.

She was pulling something behind her, some sort of cylindrical device held on a small dolly not unlike an external oxygen tank for those with breathing difficulties. Where it differed was that the thin cable on it ran to some kind of small control attached to Amber’s wrist. The second difference was far, far larger. Parting the slit of Amber’s once elegant wedding dress was a big, girthy purple strapon as long as her arm.

“Are you ready babe,” She said, her voice high and almost tense with anticipation for what she was going to do to him.

Charlie put his hands protectively over his harnessed broodsack. “Oh my god, are you going to try and stick that in me?”

She nodded giggling all the while. “Oh yeah babe, it’s your wedding present, she said before pressing the button on her wrist. She shuddered in time with the low buzz of a vibrator, and more vitally a spurt of cum from the end of her ersatz cock. “I spent a fortune on this beauty, and the ‘fuel’ - the real stuff from a reputable spermbank with less than reputable warehouse staff - you know how creampies can start labour? Well I’m going to fuck you till your waters break!” she emphasised her statement with another spurt of borrowed cum.

“I’m not sure,”

“Come on,” She said, gently patting his stomach. “We’ve had so much fun so far, would be a shame to stop now before I can get you off,”

She saw him peer past his belly at the drip of cum hanging from her strapon.” She knew he didn’t get that belly without being at least a bit susceptible to the temptations of cum.

“Oh alright,” he relented. “But it's been a while and I’m soooo preggers, so you’ve got to be gentle,”

“Oh I know, aren’t you a good boy, saving yourself for marriage,” She chuckled lustily, patting his belly just a bit too hard. A baby kicked back in response. “Just yell ‘corriander’ and I’ll stop.”

“Okay, ‘corriander,’ got it,” he said with the eager trepidation of someone at the top of a rollercoaster right before the drop.

“Now, let’s prep you,” she said with one last kiss to his belly before she ducked below the equator of his womb. First she looked at the swollen feet and ankles of her husband and put a kiss first on one ankle then the other, though she paid little attention to his feet. She was having a pseudo-medical strapon labour induction sex with her extremely pregnant husband but she drew the line at foot fetishism.

She heard him gasp in surprise as she pulled his trousers down, and gave his fat ass a slap - savouring the squeal that followed. Next she pulled down his boxers revealing his boycunt and the full bush surrounding it.

“Oooh how rugged,” she said as if he had any way to shave himself. “Well let me pay you back just a little bit,” she said, kissing hims lustily on the clit a few times. As she suspected he was easy and eager, dampening almost immediately and shivering in the anticipation of orgasm. Then she pulled back.

She reappeared and leaned against the rockhard dome of his belly, feeling the babies writhe beneath his skin.

“Wouldn’t it be cruel of me if we came all this way and then I didn’t let you cross the finish line.”

“No don’t, come on, please I haven’t cum in months,” he begged, wincing as a ridge of foetal movement tented his shirt. The buttons still held.

“Mmm, you got there so quickly, it’s a little anticlimactic. This’ll be the first time I make you cum, shouldn’t we try and make an event of it,”

“Oh come on, I’m in this harness, it’s our wedding day, and I’m the most pregnant person alive, what else do you want!” he said half desperate half demanding. She had never seen him get so bratty, this was her doing for spoiling him these last 9 months. She would definitely have her fun.

“Just for that you have more to do,” she said, a hand gliding between the spread slivers of his shirt to stroke the sore pregnant flesh beneath it. “Beg.”

“Please,” he said sweetly.

“Beg like you mean it or you can stay like this while I go jill off on the table and shoot a load up your back while all you can do is listen,” she said with sultry menace, before her long tongue swirled around his belly button. The carrot and the stick.

“Amber, please, love of my life, I need you, I need you to fuck me like the dirty, huge fucking man-pregger I am. I -”

“Call yourself a cumslut,” she demanded. “Tell me why you like it,”

“Yes! Yes! I’m such a naughty little cumslut boy. God you have no idea babe, I want it all over me, covering my belly, I want it in my hair, I want to guzzle it, babe please just give me that salty delicious cum,”

“Now that’s a good boy, such an obedient husband. Now tell me how much you love me.”

“Amber, I know it’s impossible but I wish these were your babies,” he said, pressing his palms into his distended swell of pregnancy. “Even before we got together I used to dream of being with you, of the life we could have together. You’re the smartest, strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and you make me want to be a better man so that I can do right by you. I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I could never imagine having a better mother to my children.”

She spurted a stream of milk over his shirt, turning it transparent against his veiny stretchmarked skin. “And these?” she asked.

“And you have the hottest fucking tits I’ve ever seen, my God did I get lucky!”

“You sure did babe,” she said giving him a kiss on the belly before she came round to nuzzle him, kissing with tender passion as she soaked up the love of her husband. “I love you so, so much, my kind, handsome, knight in shining armour.”

Then she tittered with errotic delight as she activated her strapon again, spurting into her hand. “Now let’s fuck you properly,” she said wiping some cum across his lips.

She kissed him one more time before she went back to the hammock’s controls and moved the hoist further up, tilting the weighty pregnancy further upwards and forcing her husband to tilt backwards, steadying himself against the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Just making sure we have the best possible angle,”

“Okay, I trust you,” he said breathlessly, the weight of his pregnancy pressing on his diaphragm.

She answered him, her voice thick with lust. “You’re so fucking sexy,”

She pressed her palms against the underside of his belly and then her whole face and torso against his monstrous belly before, at last, with a hitch of the hips she entered him.

“Oooh, oooh the babies, ooh they’re going crazy,” he moaned, his throat tight with the curious mix of pressure, pain and pleasure.

Lovingly, ruthlessly, Amber slammed her strapon into her husband’s wet and ready pussy. Straight on she could just barely see the top of her husband’s head past the living mountain of his grossly pregnant belly. But from the sides she could see him in ¾ profile, his angelic features clenched as he tried to ride out the violent kicking welling up in his belly. His shirt rippled and distended, the fabric lifting over the rise of oversized limbs all around his belly. The huge lump of a baby laying its back out against his womb walls stretched his left flank agonizingly out of shape.

She looked so small as well, pressed up against that vast, strangely shaped broodsack like a termite beside their bloated queen. She smiled at herself with wicked abandon as a dark, impulsive thought welled up in her head.

She put her hands against the fleshy wall of womb in front of her and pressed in hard.

In reflections she saw Charlie’s eyes squeeze shut as he let out a low throaty wail.

The first button on his shirt finally failed, shooting off with such force that it thumped Amber in the cheek, a half-inch shy of taking an eye out.

“Oh god I’m gonna pop,” he yelled as the stormy amniotic sea bulging out of his waist roiled so violently that his babies almost threw him off his feet, rolling him this way and that in the hammock.

Pressed up against him she could share some of his pain, absorbing the recoil of frighteningly powerful movements within his womb. She felt the full, oppressive weight of his womb, of the ten overfed, oversized babies shifting and pressing against her, separated only by the thin shell of her husband’s skin.

“It’ll be alright baby!” she yelled as she kissed and slathered all over his hot, rippling underbelly. For the first time she felt afraid for him, the sheer weight, the unborn mass throwing around inside of her man seemed almost impossible to handle. Looking over his belly she saw the lumps and tented hollows of its surface writhing and changing, limbs moving beneath the flushed, bruised skin at shocking pace and force. And size. The stretchmarks lining his belly seemed to flush redder and swell as if they were about to split apart every time a freakishly huge foetal limb moved underneath. Throbbing veins bunched and flexed like pale blue lightning bolts across his horrifyingly pregnant belly.

“Don’t let me burst!” He said half sobbing half moaning as the heady cocktail of agonising womb pressure, mortal terror and the rapturous joy of being properly fucked after nine long months built up and mixed in his overly-pregnant body.

Finally, just as she saw the orgasm building on his face Amber activated her pseudocock, vibing her pussy and filling her husband’s. Again and again she pressed the activator flooding her husband’s man-cunt with an unnatural amount of cum.

“AAAAAOOOOOHHHHRRR” Charlie filled the room with a bloodcurdling scream that ebbed into an orgasmic roar so completely she could hardly say where one started and the other ended.

She braced herself for a pop, for a rip, for some great deathscream from her poor husband but instead there was no pop.

There was a snap.

-----------------

Thanks for reading to the end. I hope to do 1 or 2 more parts. I intend to put all of it here and on my own blog: depravedpreg

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