Woke up with a sentence "Get his belly ready for pregnancy" etched into mi brain.
I don't know who that refers to or how would tgat work, but I agree, prepare that man's stomach for pregnancy. It needs to be ready for when the time comes.
Because I just ate 30 fucking tacos, all in one sitting. What in the actual fuck 😩😩😩
How is it even possible to eat this much fucking food in one go? Like I really fucking walked in, sat in a booth, and literally ate tacos for almost 2 hours straight. I was so fucking full in that booth after slamming down that last taco. I felt full after 24 but figured I could bring any extra home, but nope I just kept chomping and pushing because dumb fat hog sees food on his plate so he eats it.
My gut is so fucking firm right now, my belly button feels so fucking right and shallow. Probably cause there’s 30 FUCKING TACOS stuffed in it. I feel gigantic, I guess all that eating over the weekend did stretch my gut out and now I’m even more fucked with how much food I want/need to fill me to the brim. I just keep eating and stretching my gut out, it’s no wonder I’m getting such a monster ball gut 😩
This was such a crazy thing to do, especially when I remember eating a dozen was a goal when I first started eating here. Now I’ve more than doubled that and my gut is looking more engorged with food than ever before. What a stupid irresponsible amount of fucking food I crammed all into my belly. Like this was well over 3k calories in a single meal and now my gut is distended so far out in front of me right now 🥵
God just keep the tacos coming, keep serving them to me until I literally can’t force another bite down. Fill me to the brim with tacos until I’m about to pop, and then push even more on me. Watch me groan in pain, holding my gut with one hand but still stuffing the food down with the other. Make me beg for them to stop even though all you’re doing is just placing food in front of me, it’s my own greed and gluttony that keeps overfeeding me. Can’t stop stuffing my fat face, my gut keeps growing bigger and fatter but I just keep fucking eating.
Tell me if this is a stupid amount of food and how fat I am if you agree 👀
The process of getting twelve young boys ready for bed was a long operation. They started with the youngest, Dawson and Daniel, who were already drowsy from their feeding earlier. Ryder carried them into the nursery, where their cribs waited. Cooper followed quietly behind with the rest of the kids, watching as Ryder tenderly held the babies despite the evident strain his body was enduring.
When a contraction suddenly tightened through him, Ryder froze in place, tensing as he leaned forward over the cribs. The motion pressed the babies gently between his chest and arms, and a soft groan slipped from his lips as the pressure built. The position also pressed against his heavy tits, drawing small droplets of milk from his nipples, but Ryder didn’t seem to mind. He bowed his head slightly, breathing slowly through his nose while he waited for the contraction to pass, carefully holding both babies so they wouldn’t wake.
“Alright,” Ryder whispered once the pressure passed. “Let’s get you two settled.”
He laid Dawson down first, then Daniel, adjusting the blankets around their small bodies with gentle hands. The twins stirred briefly, but Ryder leaned over the crib’s rails and spoke to them. “Daddy’s here,” he whispered, and his voice immediately soothed them.
Cooper stood nearby, strangely moved by the scene: the massively muscular young man leaning over a crib, whispering to his babies until they drifted to sleep.
Ryder then pushed himself upright with a groan and rested both hands against his belly for a moment before turning toward the door. “Next room,” he said with a tired smile.
The bedroom belonging to Cameron, Caleb, and Carter was a little brighter, decorated with colorful animals painted along the walls.
Ryder knelt slowly in front of the three boys despite the obvious effort it took. His knees spread wider to make room for his middle as he opened his arms. “C’mere,” he said softly.
Each child took their turn hugging and kissing their daddy.
“Goodnight, kiddos,” Ryder said. “Love y’all. And remember to stay in bed till morning.”
The boys nodded, clearly familiar with the routine. Cooper helped tuck them under their blankets while Ryder sat in one of their beds. Another contraction hit while he sat there, forcing him to pause mid-sentence. His breathing changed, becoming slower and more strained.
Cooper noticed. “You okay?” he asked.
Ryder nodded, though he kept his eyes closed for a moment longer before the tension passed. “Still okay,” he said. “Just getting closer.”
They moved on to the next room, where Brandon, Bryce, and Blake immediately climbed into their beds.
Ryder leaned over each mattress, moving more slowly as his stance was wider for balance. “Goodnight, boys,” he said softly, tucking the blanket under Blake’s chin. “No sneaking out tonight. Okay?”
The boys grinned sleepily and nodded.
Ryder kissed each of their foreheads and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, telling them a quick story about a dragon who guarded a mountain full of toys. Cooper couldn’t help but smile all along, marveling at how well Ryder managed all the kids.
By the time they reached the last bedroom—the quadruplets’ room—Ryder’s breathing had grown heavier. His steps had slowed, and his hand rarely left his belly. Cooper stayed close beside him, ready to catch him if his balance shifted.
Adam, Austin, Aaron, and Axel were soon under their blankets, waiting for their goodnight kiss and hug. But they had questions tonight.
“Daddy,” Adam said. “Are the babies coming tonight?”
Ryder leaned against the wall for a moment before walking to the beds. “Probably,” he admitted. “They’re thinking about it,” he said, and the boys giggled.
“Will they be big?” Austin asked.
“Pretty sure they will,” Ryder said with a soft laugh. “All of you were.”
Aaron looked thoughtful. “Will they cry a lot?”
“Sometimes,” Ryder answered. “But that’s how they talk when they’re little.”
He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath while answering each question. His hand rubbed his middle slowly as the babies inside shifted. When the questions finally ran out, he kissed each of the boys goodnight and reminded them that in the morning, there might be two new brothers waiting to meet them.
Cooper watched the scene unfold as a new warmth spread in his heart.
Once the door closed behind them, Ryder exhaled heavily and leaned against the wall. “Okay,” he said under his breath. “That was harder than I wanted it to look.”
Cooper got by his side. “You don’t have to pretend now,” he said.
Ryder laughed softly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m definitely more in labor than I let on in front of them.” He took a deeper breath and rubbed his belly again as another contraction built slowly beneath his hands. When it passed, he looked at Cooper, noticing how the young man looked ready to catch him if he fell. “How much do you weigh?” he asked suddenly.
“185,” Cooper answered.
“Alright,” Ryder said with a small grin. “Let’s hope that’s enough to handle about 350 pounds of clumsiness.” He leaned carefully against Cooper’s shoulder, testing the support.
Cooper grunted under the weight but adjusted his stance until he found solid balance.
“Okay,” Ryder said, sounding impressed. “You’re stronger than you look.”
“Thanks,” Cooper said proudly.
Together they took a few steps down the hall, but then Ryder stopped suddenly in front of another door. “Wait,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
He pushed the door open to show Cooper the nursery already prepared for the babies who were about to arrive. Two small cribs stood side by side, and painted stars decorated the walls. Above the cribs, two names were written across in beautiful font: Ethan and Evan.
Cooper stared for a moment. “You already picked their names,” he asked.
Ryder nodded, smiling. “Had some time to think about it.” He leaned against the doorway, rubbing his belly as another contraction tightened slowly.
Cooper hesitated before speaking once the tightening eased. “May I ask you something kind of personal?”
“Sure,” Ryder said.
Cooper looked back toward the hallway where the kids were sleeping. “What do your parents really think about all this? The pregnancies, all the kids, and the different dads.”
Ryder chuckled. “At first? They were furious,” he admitted. “I was still in high school when the first pregnancy happened. It was a lot for them.” He shrugged. “The second time, they were still shocked, but not as angry. After that, they’ve been supportive to say the least. They still give me lectures sometimes about how I’ve been reckless, but they love their grandkids, all of them.” He paused for a moment. “The thing that bothers them most is that I don’t have an actual relationship,” he admitted, with a shy smile.
Cooper looked surprised. “They want you to date?”
“They want me to find someone stable, a boyfriend,” Ryder said. “Someone who actually wants to stay.” He laughed softly. “My dad often says that once I find the right person, I can have as many kids as I want. It’s a joke, but you get the point.”
Cooper blinked. “So, you need to find a boyfriend?”
Ryder shrugged. “Yeah. But I don’t know who would sign up for this level of chaos.”
“I would.” The words slipped out before Cooper could stop them.
Ryder froze.
For a moment, they looked at each other. Cooper felt his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. His face turned red as a tomato, but he couldn’t look away. Ryder’s eyes fixed on Cooper, blinking repeatedly as if trying to understand whether what he had just heard was real. The attraction between them had been building all evening, but now it was undeniable.
Ryder’s breathing had slowed as if he had forgotten for a second that he had been in the middle of labor. For a brief moment, it almost felt like they might lean toward each other to kiss.
Then Ryder’s expression changed when a contraction hit.
He folded forward with a deep groan that he clearly tried to swallow but couldn’t. His knees spread instinctively, and his large hands grabbed onto Cooper’s shoulders as if they were the only steady thing nearby. His whole body tensed while the contraction pushed through him with a strength that made his breath shake.
And then there was a sudden warm rush between Ryder’s legs. The liquid spread instantly through his pants, darkening the fabric before spilling down his thighs. It ran quickly down his calves and splashed against the floor. Within seconds, a clear puddle began forming at Ryder’s feet as he froze. He looked down, watching the spreading water with wide eyes before slowly lifting his eyes back to Cooper.
“My water just broke,” Ryder said between breaths. “The babies are coming fast.” He swallowed hard. “Last few times it barely took an hour after this,” he added softly.
Cooper straightened immediately. “Then we need to get you to bed.”
They continued down the hallway toward Ryder’s bedroom.
By the time they reached the bedroom door, Ryder’s steps had shortened even more. His stance widened further as his body adjusted to the pressure building low in his hips. Cooper helped him inside and closed the door behind them.
Ryder exhaled slowly as he stepped toward the bed and then looked down. “I think I should get these pants off,” he said. “Do you mind helping?”
Cooper nodded quickly, but his hands were shaky. He crouched in front of Ryder and began pulling the soaked pants down. The waistband slid past Ryder’s thighs and knees before the fabric dropped to the floor. Removing the underwear took even longer as Cooper struggled to believe he was actually doing this. He had forgotten how to breathe and how to move, and as more of Ryder’s skin came into view, Cooper struggled to think clearly.
Once the last of the wet clothing was out of the way, Ryder straightened carefully.
For a moment, Cooper stood there looking up at him. Without the clothes, there was nothing softening the scale of Ryder’s body. He was enormous in the most literal sense of the word—tall, broad, and heavily swollen. His shoulders were wide enough to make Cooper feel as thin as a stick. Ryder’s hips were broad, powerful, and deliciously rounded. His belly was perfectly round and heavy, and the navel pushed outward from the pressure within.
Then it was the lower body—impressive to say the least. The thighs were massive, and between them, Cooper saw a thick cock—about 7 inches soft—and plump balls the size of softballs that hung low, given their own weight. The sight was breathtaking, and Cooper realized he had stopped moving. He was staring openly.
Ryder noticed, despite the tightening in his belly. He let out a breath that turned into a small laugh. “You okay there?” he asked.
Cooper blinked quickly, and his face flushed red. “Yeah,” he said, slightly breathless. “Sorry. I just… I’m admiring.” He stood up, still stunned. “You’re impressive.”
Ryder shook his head, though the compliment clearly caught him off guard. “That’s a new one,” he said. “Thanks.”
Cooper got a little closer without thinking and reached out to touch Ryder’s belly. He slid his hands over the taut skin, feeling the babies shift inside as if responding to the contact. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” Cooper finally admitted. “And the best daddy ever.” He paused. “Anyone who ends up with you is going to be unbelievably lucky.”
Ryder’s cheeks flushed, something Cooper was starting to realize didn’t happen often.
For a moment, Ryder looked at him, clearly surprised by the honesty. Then he leaned forward and kissed Cooper. The kiss was deep and passionate. Cooper’s hands instinctively caressed Ryder’s sides while Ryder’s fingers cupped Cooper’s jaw. For a second, they forgot the drama and the chaos of labor, but Ryder’s body was still moving through it.
A contraction interrupted the moment, and Ryder bent forward slightly, gripping Cooper’s shoulder until it eased. “Maybe we pause that,” Ryder said through a breath, still smiling. “Labor tends to ruin the mood.”
Cooper chuckled. “We can continue later,” he said.
“Oh, we definitely will,” Ryder replied. He took a deep breath and gestured toward the bathroom. “Can you start the tub? Water births worked really well the last few times.”
Cooper nodded and helped Ryder sit down on the edge of the bed before hurrying into the bathroom. Ryder called out instructions between breaths, telling him where the towels were stored, where the clean scissors and clamps were kept, and which drawer held the medical gloves his parents had prepared. Cooper followed the instructions carefully, filling the tub with warm water and laying out the supplies exactly where Ryder said they should be.
When everything was ready, Cooper came back to the bedroom and froze.
Ryder was sitting at the edge of the bed, breathing through a contraction that was clearly stronger than the earlier ones. Even in pain, he still looked striking.
“Wow,” Cooper whispered, feeling his cock stirring in his pants.
Ryder looked up. “What?”
Cooper shook his head slowly. “I just can’t believe you’re real.”
That made Ryder laugh again, but the sound was short as another tightening began. “You’re going to make me blush in the middle of labor.”
Cooper got right before him and began rubbing his belly, the way he had seen people do in videos about childbirth. “I’m serious,” he said softly. “I’m still unsure if I’m dreaming.”
“Oh, believe me. This is all real.” Ryder sighed slightly at the pressure, but Cooper’s touch felt incredible. “That actually helps,” he admitted.
Cooper kept going, moving his hands along the round sides of Ryder’s belly, spreading his fingers wide to cover more of the round surface. The skin was tight, and now and then the babies shifted under his touch.
Ryder’s breathing began to settle as the massage continued. After a moment, he tilted his hips forward and made a small motion with his hand, silently showing Cooper where the soreness was worst. Cooper followed the instruction, sliding his hands down from the belly to Ryder’s hips. He pressed his thumbs into the thick flesh there, kneading the sore spots.
Ryder let out a long breath. “Oh, yes,” he breathed out. “Your hands are magic.” Little by little, the tension in Ryder’s posture eased, and his breathing found a calmer rhythm again.
But the labor was progressing fast.
Ryder’s calm control began to crack around the edges as the pressure grew stronger. His body trembled slightly during the next contraction, and when it ended, he took a deep breath. “Help me get to the tub,” he said. “It’s time.”
Cooper helped him stand again. Ryder’s legs spread wide to make space for his belly, and walking had become a slow shuffle. Each step required concentration. They made their way into the bathroom together. By the time they reached the tub, Cooper was supporting most of Ryder’s weight. Ryder’s legs had to spread very wide to keep his balance, and every small shift made him groan. The muscles in his thighs trembled from the effort.
“The baby’s right there,” Ryder whispered, strained as another contraction built low in his hips. “I can feel him right between my hips.”
“Just breathe,” Cooper said quickly, even though he wasn’t sure if he was saying the right thing. “Slow breaths. In and out. You’re doing great.” It sounded like something he had heard a hundred times on television shows, but Ryder nodded anyway.
Getting into the tub turned out to be a careful process. With Cooper supporting most of his weight, Ryder carefully lowered one foot into the water. Then the other leg followed, and slowly, he lowered himself down until the water reached his hips. His massive belly rose above the surface like a dome while he leaned back against the side of the tub.
For a moment, he stayed there, letting the water help his muscles loosen slightly. “Good,” he said finally, still breathless. “That’s much better.”
He shifted again, gripping the sides of the tub while carefully adjusting his position until he was lying back more comfortably with his thighs spread wide to give the babies room to come out. Then, he immediately felt the first baby moving lower into his birth canal.
Cooper watched the whole adjustment in stunned silence for a moment. The sight of the massive man bracing himself in the tub, breathing through the pain, was almost hypnotic.
Ryder noticed the look after a second and managed a breathy half‑smile despite the tension building in his body. “You might want to take your clothes off,” he said between breaths. “Things are probably going to get messy, and they’ll get all wet.”
Cooper blinked, snapping out of the daze he had slipped into. “Oh—right,” he said.
He hesitated for a second, clearly realizing what that meant, then started pulling his shirt off and dropping it to the floor. His pants and underwear soon followed. When he straightened again, standing beside the tub fully naked, the moment flipped unexpectedly.
Ryder froze.
Even through the pressure of labor, his eyes traveled slowly up Cooper’s body, scanning his whole frame, the firm lines of muscle across his torso, and the massive cock hanging between his legs, looking monstrous even in a half-hard state.
Cooper felt the heat rush straight into his face. “What?” he asked. “Something’s wrong?”
Ryder shook his head, still breathing steadily. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, with a hint of a grin. “Actually… Everything’s right. Very, very right.”
That only made Cooper blush harder, but the moment didn’t last long because Ryder’s expression tightened again as the contraction hit him hard, dragging his focus right back to the work his body was doing. His head tipped back, and his fingers tightened around the edges of the tub as the pressure took over his body.
Cooper knelt beside the tub without hesitation and took Ryder’s hand, holding it firmly.
Ryder clearly knew what his body was doing, focusing on his breathing and listening to the signals his body gave him. Cooper stayed beside him the entire time, supporting his shoulders and doing his best to follow Ryder’s instructions.
Eventually, Ryder’s breathing began to change again. His eyes focused somewhere beyond the ceiling for a moment while he listened to what his body was telling him. One hand tightened around Cooper’s as another wave built through his hips.
“Okay,” Ryder said after a long breath. “The first baby’s crowning.”
Cooper’s heart jumped so hard he felt it in his throat. For a second, he looked like he might freeze completely, but Ryder squeezed his hand, and that snapped him back into motion.
“Right,” Cooper said quickly. “Okay. What should I do?”
Another contraction hit Ryder, and this time he didn’t fight it. He leaned forward in the tub as the pressure pushed lower. “You’ll see the head first,” he said between breaths, calm despite the strain. “Just don’t panic. Okay?”
“I’m not panicking,” Cooper said quickly, but his voice betrayed him a little.
Ryder pushed again, and his shoulders tightened with the effort.
Cooper leaned closer without realizing it, looking between Ryder’s thick thighs. When the first glimpse of the baby appeared, he gasped in shock. “Damn—” he whispered.
Ryder laughed softly even through the effort. “Told you.”
The next push brought more of the baby forward, and the tiny head slowly emerged into the warm water. Cooper’s fear shifted into something else then—full awe. He followed Ryder’s instructions carefully, sliding his hands under the baby as the body finally slipped free. For a moment, he froze and stared at the small, wet newborn in his hands, stunned by the sudden weight of a brand-new life.
“Lift him up,” Ryder said, catching his breath.
Cooper did exactly that, lifting the baby from the water and placing him against Ryder’s broad and rounded chest.
The newborn cried immediately.
Ryder laughed softly through tears of relief, pulling the tiny body close against him. “Hi, Ethan,” he whispered, brushing damp hair from the baby’s forehead.
Cooper watched them for a moment, completely amazed, before Ryder reminded him about the cord. His hands trembled slightly as he followed Ryder’s instructions to clamp and cut it, but he managed it carefully.
“You did well,” Ryder said, smiling.
Cooper let out a shaky breath. “I think I’m going to need a minute after this.”
But there wasn’t time. Another contraction came only a minute later.
“Sorry. Can’t,” Ryder said. “Second one’s ready.”
Cooper tensed but moved into position immediately, holding Ryder’s hand while the next push came. The second baby arrived faster, almost in a rush, compared to the first. Cooper caught the newborn the same way he had before, lifting the small body carefully from the water with much more confidence this time.
“Welcome, Evan,” Ryder said as he pulled the second baby close beside his brother.
Cooper was still stunned, but the scene was too beautiful not to look at.
A few minutes later, almost at midnight, Ryder leaned back against the tub after delivering the placenta, holding both newborn boys against his chest. Cooper rested beside him, still gently rubbing Ryder’s now‑softened middle.
Ryder looked down at his sons and then up at Cooper. “Thanks, Cooper,” he said. “And I’m sorry for making your Valentine’s Day weird.”
Cooper smiled, leaned in, and kissed Ryder’s lips. “It was the best Valentine’s Day ever,” he said firmly. “And remember, we have something pending.”
Ryder nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said, almost buzzing with excitement. “We have plenty of time for that.” A smirk appeared on his lips. “My parents texted a couple of hours ago. Since I was already home, they decided not to come until tomorrow morning.”
“Wait.” Cooper straightened a bit. “They didn’t know you were in labor?”
Ryder shook his head. “I didn’t want to scare you even more,” he added. “But I knew we would be alone all night. What we’ll do from now on is up to you.”
Cooper went speechless for a moment, then grinned wider than ever.
A while later, after the babies had been cleaned, wrapped, and settled into their cribs in the nursery, the house finally grew quiet. Cooper had helped Ryder wash the last traces of the birth from his skin, and now both were in Ryder’s bed, smiling at each other—aware of what was about to happen.
Ryder lay back against the pillows, with his thighs spread even more than before. His body was still thick everywhere, but without the pregnant belly pulling forward, he seemed lighter somehow. The skin of his middle was softer now, but still impressive. His tits were fuller than ever, even after feeding the newborns. Everything was swollen and sore, and amid the chaos, his cock was hard now—11 inches of thick man meat.
Cooper climbed onto the bed, leaning over Ryder and settling right between his thighs. For a moment, he only looked down at him, almost in disbelief. It was still hard to understand how such a handsome man like Ryder was even real, but here he was—stunning and open for Cooper to fuck him.
“You sure about this?” Cooper whispered.
“Since the moment I walked through the front door and saw you,” Ryder responded. “And when I saw that cock. Damn. That sealed the deal.” He widened his eyes and smirked. “11.5 inches soft, almost 16 when hard, and 10 inches thick. How is that even possible?”
“Says the guy who just gave birth to twin boys,” Cooper responded, brushing his monster cock against Ryder’s perineum.
“Fair,” Ryder said, reaching up to wrap his strong arms around Cooper’s neck.
“Now, what do you say if we change that statement?” Cooper said, leaning in to kiss Ryder’s lips. “Let’s make you the guy who gives birth again in 9 months.”
“Sounds like you stole my thoughts,” Ryder replied, feeling Cooper’s cock right at the entrance of his hole. “Come on. Give me all you’ve got.”
Cooper smiled and slowly pushed forward, burying his cock into Ryder’s hole. He had no experience, but the moans escaping Ryder’s mouth suggested he was doing just fine.
“Oh, fuck!” Ryder cried out, feeling his guts rearranging around the biggest cock he had ever seen—by far. “And I thought this was going to be a boring Valentine’s Day.”
Cooper kissed Ryder’s lips again. “It’s been the best,” he said between kisses as his whole cock slid into Ryder. “I found my Valentine,” he whispered. “My very pregnant Valentine.”
Ryder’s breath was short as he adjusted to the massive intruder. “And I found—” he began, but loud moans cut his words.
“You found the boyfriend you were looking for,” Cooper said firmly, slowly bucking his hips as Ryder’s eyes rolled into his head in pleasure. “One who’s staying forever.”
Chris sat in the car for a long time afterward. The A/C blew cold air across his face, but his skin was hot, and sweat beaded at his temple. He had gotten into a public bathroom to take the pregnancy tests and was now staring at the results. Six tests. Six identical windows showing the same unmistakable verdict. He kept picking up the instructions, reading the same sentence again and again, as if grammar might give him a way to escape the truth.
“Two lines indicate pregnancy,” he silently read in one. “A plus sign indicates pregnancy,” he read in another. “Digital readout: “PREGNANT.” He checked each device in turn, moving his lips as if cross-examining a witness. Two lines. Plus. PREGNANT. Again. Again. Again.
He suddenly felt his breathing shortening, and his throat felt as if air was too thick to get through it. He pressed a hand against his chest, feeling it rise and fall in desperation, then moved his hand lower over the subtle curve on his abdomen as though he could erase the truth with touch. “It’s impossible,” he whispered to the empty car. “I’m a man. Men don’t…” He began, but the last word dissolved because the list of signs and symptoms didn’t leave space for doubt. He remembered the nausea, how smells turned traitor, the ache in his lower belly, and how his suits felt tighter by the day. The evidence was there, making even the lawyer in him stop arguing.
He took a moment to calm himself down and almost laughed at the ridiculous situation. Despite his former wonder at the idea of having Ryan’s baby, now he couldn’t help but sigh as the feeling collided with fear. He saw the beauty and absurdity in the arc of his life. He thought of Renee’s hands on his face and Rory’s chubby fist grasping his finger, remembering the precious moment when the child had been born. Having kids had always been their dream, but now that it was Chris carrying a kid who didn’t belong to her, things were different.
These thoughts led him to wonder how to tell Renee. She would definitely feel betrayed twice over by the act and the consequence. Knowing she was mad at him was bad enough, and expecting her to see him pregnant with someone else’s child was a whole different story. However, the risks extended beyond that. He had no idea how he would walk into court with a belly that would someday announce itself before he did. He couldn’t face all the neighbors knowing that Ryan’s baby was growing inside him. He didn’t even know how to explain it to himself.
Chris rubbed his abdomen, feeling the firm bump below his navel, and let out a long, disbelieving sigh that felt as if his soul wanted to escape his body. However, his lips instinctively—and against his will—curved into a smile at the ridiculous fact of it all.
“How did I get myself into this mess?” He said, and the memories of the camping trip immediately flooded his mind, replaying the scene where Ryan’s cock stretched him so nicely. “Okay, right. I know how it happened,” he added, trying to cover his dread with humor.
When he arrived home a while later, he found the hallway lamp on and the living room rearranged as a silent announcement that Renee was still angry. There was a folded pair of pajama pants on the couch’s arm, a neatly stacked pile of sheets, and a pillow waiting beside them. The message was clear, and Chris stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath and accepting the consequences of his actions. He knew he couldn’t expect a better reaction.
Chris changed into the pajama pants and made the couch as comfortable as it would allow. He slid beneath the sheet with his hand resting over his belly as if it were the only true thing in the room. He tried to focus on something else, but facts devastated him. It was his fault, and he didn’t mean to cause this mess. However, he couldn’t honestly deny that he had loved the camping trip that had started it all. It was a fact.
*
Chris and Renee functioned like the practiced team they had always been as the days passed. They worked together to get the bottles warmed, diapers folded, and the laundry relay run without dropped batons, but words between them were thinner around the edges. She answered what needed answering; he kept to briefings about dinner and schedules. The house was quiet the rest of the time, hurting them, but things worked well enough to avoid fights.
Despite the strain, they didn’t want to let everybody know the issues between them. So, on Halloween, they strung paper bats and a friendly ghost across the porch, set a bowl of candy on a little table, and smiled for pirates, princesses, and a dinosaur that refused to leave without three lollipops. Chris praised the costumes with Rory in his arms, and Renee handed out the candies. Their hands accidentally brushed together a couple of times, and both preferred to ignore it.
“I’m going up,” Renee said coldly once the kids stopped coming. Chris only nodded and looked at the couch waiting for him another night.
Things were tense in the house, but the enormity of the situation followed him everywhere. He’d be writing a motion and realize his thumb had been on his middle, tracing slow circles over his shirt for a full minute. In the elevator, he felt a wave of dizziness peak and pass, making him cup his belly as if to steady both of them. His mindset had instinctively changed to show more protective manners toward his belly.
During a partner’s briefing, he flinched when the smell of someone’s cinnamon tea hit him wrong, and a coworker couldn’t help but lean in to check on him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Chris responded, unruffling his tie. “I didn’t sleep. Newborn, you know.”
The coworker smiled kindly at him, and he smiled back, then stared down at his notepad, where he’d absentmindedly written PREGNANT in the margin with lawyerly block letters and underlined it twice before blacking it out. He blushed and covered the word to avoid others from seeing where his mind was at.
At home, random touches multiplied. He’d be rinsing bottles and realize his hand had drifted low. He’d be on the floor beside Rory’s play mat and notice the subtle way his middle pushed against his T-shirt. He would look around, half‑guilty, half‑protective, and then keep playing with Rory as his mind thought about having another baby in the house. Despite everything, Chris couldn’t help but think that having Ryan’s kid was cool.
*
Across the street, Ryan tried to outrun his reflection. He woke each day a little thicker, in ways only he could track: the waistband dug deeper into his waist, the denim had started to protest over his hips, and the odd fullness and tenderness in his chest made him wince constantly. He told himself it was stress, salt, or Autumn’s slower pace. However, every morning, he found a new challenge to prove it was something else.
He turned sideways in the mirror, pressed his hand to the faint but undeniable curve that had replaced his abs, and felt the tender weight below his navel. He sighed, noticing the subtle changes everywhere: a tightness in the area where his pants met his hips; his ass that had always been prominent now felt heavier and broader in how the fabric fit; and thighs that had a new thickness on them. None of it was dramatic, but it was impossible to ignore.
In addition, his odd symptoms persisted, only not as violently as before. Smells could still blindside him, and he still had to run to throw up some mornings. He could be starving to death one minute and too tired to eat anything the next. It was a rollercoaster where he never knew what each day would bring for him.
Tammy watched him with love, trying her best to make him feel comfortable—toast instead of eggs, mint tea instead of coffee, a hand at his back when he paused mid‑hallway to breathe. She hadn’t been happy about him having sex with Chris, but she trusted it had only been a one-time thing—better to leave it in the past. She was still hurt and mad, but after several years of marriage, she knew better than to make Ryan feel worse about it all.
Meanwhile, their boys kept Ryan active. Josh wanted his dad to play with him in the backyard until dusk, shouting for the man to come and catch him. Jeremy wanted to be a backpack and clung to Ryan’s torso, laughing against his neck. Ryan complied, slower, steadier, and sweating sooner, but smiling anyway. Even when his back twinged or his stomach ached, he refused to disappoint them, kneeling so they could climb over him, building Lego towers or tracing shapes on his belly as if it were a new game. He was tired to the bone, but his love for them made him smile when everything else in his life felt like it was crumbling.
Work was getting worse by the day. Tool belts dug into the softening curve of his middle until he had to loosen them mid‑day. When he bent to measure or lift, the snug fabric of his work jeans cut into his waist, and he found himself grunting, standing a little slower, and pretending to be okay. His T-shirt rode up when he reached overhead, exposing a crescent of skin and the new curve, drawing a few smirks from the crew that made his ears burn. He bought larger sizes and pretended it was a brand change, insisting the supplier had altered the cut.
His once‑smooth movements on scaffolds turned more careful because balance felt different with the weight at his middle shifting unexpectedly. Climbing ladders took more effort, and his thighs brushed together in a way they never used to. He moved more slowly through the site, delegating the ladder work with a joke about “management weight.” The crew noticed, but they said nothing beyond the usual teasing on a job site—comments about heavier lunches or winter weight—but he could feel their eyes on him when he leaned or stretched.
*
Chris’s symptoms finally eased by mid-November. The nausea receded, but his mind stayed on full alert at any sign of it coming back. He was more energetic and careful than a cat, finishing his filings, arguing a motion despite having two hours less sleep than ideal, and realizing afterward he had not once gripped the edge of the podium over dizziness. He could only smile at simple but meaningful events like eating bacon for breakfast without consequence.
However, despite those tiny victories, he still felt a massive burden on his shoulders: he needed to speak to Renee about the pregnancy tests. They had wanted a big family, but getting pregnant with Rory had been hard, even with fertility treatments. He wanted to believe that the news about them welcoming a baby into their family in a few months would make Renee happy. But three weeks on the couch had taught him that hope without honesty is only a softer name for delay. He could not hand her this truth in a wrapped box with a sign: “I’m pregnant, isn’t it wonderful?” without first owning the fracture that preceded it.
It meant that there was one person who could look him in the eye and understand without judging him. So, on November 20, he called Ryan. They picked a grocery store lot that emptied after dinner to meet without raising unnecessary but expected suspicions in their wives. When both men arrived, they stayed in their cars for a while, fighting their own thoughts and inevitably remembering their passionate night together. Then, they got out and faced each other across two feet that felt like a mile.
“Hey, how are you?” Chris said.
“Hey,” Ryan responded, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been fine. Working and being with the family. Things were tense for a while after you opened your mouth about the camping trip,” he added, rolling his eyes to emphasize his exasperation.
“Oh. I’m sorry about that. I honestly couldn’t hide it anymore,” Chris said, taking a deep breath and shrugging. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been sleeping on the couch for the last few weeks. I don’t think you’re having it as rough as I do. Renee’s… mad, to say the least.”
Ryan laughed and relaxed. “It does make me feel better. You and your big mouth deserve the punishment. But I’m not having it easy. Tammy’s driving me crazy. She thinks I’m on some sympathy… whatever.” He snorted. “She says I’m acting like I did when she was pregnant. Which would be hilarious if it wasn’t—”
“Yeah, about that,” Chris interrupted and stared at the painted line between stalls. “Renee said the same. And I—” He swallowed. “I took some tests.”
Ryan arched his brow in shock. “What? Why would you do that? Please tell me you’re not buying their nonsense,” he said, sharper than he meant.
“I couldn’t breathe without knowing,” Chris said, blushing in shame. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pregnancy test, and the screen still showed the word “PREGNANT.” He held it out. “They’re all like this. Six of them. Positive, again and again.”
Ryan didn’t take it at first. He stared as if it might go off. When he finally accepted the plastic wand, his fingers were careful, clearly terrified. The word there—PREGNANT—felt like a truth he refused to accept. “These things are wrong all the time,” he said, not even blinking.
“Not all of them, not six in a row,” Chris answered. He turned and reached for the passenger seat, bringing out a pharmacy bag. “I got you some in case you want to prove me wrong. Or right. I don’t know which is worse.”
Ryan stared at the bag as if it were a snake. “You and Tammy,” he said, furrowing his brows and blushing in a mix of anger and panic. “You’re both out of your minds.” He took the bag anyway, opening it to find six boxes in it. “This is insane.”
“I know,” Chris said. “But give it a try. If they come back negative, then you’ll have nothing to worry about,” he said, shrugging and biting his lower lip. He wanted to say, “I’m scared, and I’m also weirdly happy about your kid, and I don’t know how to be a father and a pregnant man at once,” but he preferred to keep those words to himself.
Ryan nodded, turning around in silence and quickly getting into his truck as Chris watched him go. Chris moved his hand over his lower middle, unaware that Ryan was doing the same on his way back home.
The next day at lunch, Ryan’s mind couldn’t focus on his crew’s stories. He stood at the edge of the site trailer carrying the pharmacy bag Chris had given him, laughing at himself as he went to the small bathroom on site. He stared at the boxes for a while, nervously opening them all and reading the instructions as if they were a foreign language. He tried to laugh, imagining himself calling Chris to tell him the universe had played a trick on his hormones, but he could not make the picture hold.
He clumsily took the first, second, and third tests, trying to convince himself that it was ridiculous. The fourth, fifth, and sixth times were more careful. Then, as the seconds passed, he stared at the tile grout, at his boots, and at the small window above. When he looked back, the answer was there. Six tests, all showing the same results: positive. His eyes widened as he picked up one of the tests, staring at it in shock.
He looked down at his belly pushing against the T‑shirt and couldn’t help but place his hand there. He didn’t know how to feel. Part of him was scared, but something within him was relieved to learn the truth. He lined the six tests up on a paper towel like evidence, with shaky hands, and took a photo to send to Chris with no words.
A minute later, his phone buzzed with a message. “I told you. What do we do?”
Ryan stared at the question, not knowing how to respond. He turned off the screen and slid the phone into his pocket.
*
Two days later, on November 22, he went to the same clinic he had gone to a few weeks before, quickly getting into the doctor’s office with deep concerns and confusion about his body.
“Doc, I need you to listen,” Ryan said, sitting forward and squeezing his knees. He explained everything—the nausea, the smells, the fatigue, the ache low in his abdomen, and how his clothes had stopped fitting. He hesitated and then added, “I took six pregnancy tests, and they all came back positive.”
The doctor’s expression showed skepticism, kindness, and curiosity all at once. “Those tests are sensitive, but they’re not perfect,” he said carefully. “There are rare situations—certain tumors, lab errors, hormone cross‑reactivity—that can cause false positives.”
“Six?” Ryan asked, firmly but not combatively. “All the same?”
The doctor exhaled and nodded. “We’ll run a quantitative blood test for hCG, and we’ll see.” The clinic was quiet on Saturday, so ten minutes later the doctor came back with the results. “It’s positive,” he said, rereading the page as if it might correct itself if given a second chance. “And not just barely.” He stopped, lifting his face as if discovering a secret. “Let me check something.” He clicked through the chart, found the labs from weeks prior, and gasped in evident shock. “I dismissed these results back then because they didn’t make sense. But it makes sense now.” He rubbed his temple and looked at Ryan. “There’s only one way to be sure what we’re dealing with. Follow me.”
They went to a nearby room, and Ryan looked around in confusion as the doctor talked. “Normally, a tech would do this, but we don’t have time to wait for him,” the doctor said, wheeling the ultrasound machine over and squeezing gel onto a probe.
Ryan lay back, lifting his shirt to expose the firm curve that had replaced his chiseled abdomen. It wasn’t large, not compared to photographs he’d seen of later months, but on his body it was prominent enough. He winced when the cool gel touched his skin, and the doctor whispered an apology before setting the probe down.
The doctor turned the screen on, and black and white shapes appeared immediately. His face shifted as he moved, pressed, and adjusted the angle to explore Ryan’s insides. Then, his mouth opened, his eyes blinked, and his whole face turned pale. “No way!”
“What?” Ryan demanded, panicking. “Doc—what?”
“Give me a second,” the doctor said, clearly having a hard time comprehending what his eyes saw. He swallowed, clicked the freeze frame, then the measuring tool, and finally turned the monitor slightly so Ryan could see the screen. “You are pregnant, Ryan,” he said without warning. “You are very pregnant. I count six babies, about 10 weeks along.” He hit a button, and six marks appeared on the screen. “You are pregnant with sextuplets.”
The world thinned to a whistle in Ryan’s ears. He stared at the screen where he saw the distinctive shapes. He had been to Tammy’s every ultrasound during both pregnancies, so he knew a baby when he saw one. “Six,” he repeated, but the word didn’t fit in his mouth. “Sextuplets?” He laughed once, sounding like a disbelieving bark that turned into something raw. “That’s not—I can’t—.”
The doctor didn’t know what to respond as Ryan’s vision blurred, and the last thing he felt was the cold gel over his middle and his own voice repeating the word as if repetition could change it: “Sextuplets.” Then the room went black, clean and complete.
'Why is everyone looking at me?' he asks, as if being 9 months pregnant with twins and carrying enough milk in his tis to stock the entire maternity ward wasn't a big deal.
Oh, what some would give to lay underneath such a man, to have his heavy gut pressed onto their own body. The gravid womb that restlessly rests atop of them as if their own, each movement within, each squirm and wiggle a shared feeling the can be felt by both at once.
His belly ever shifting, every movement he makes teasing the one below with the urge to touch the stuffed womb by hand, to feel it just a bit more. But they are not allowed, at least not yet, for fully embracing this belly is meant to be their reward, the thing that shall bring them beyond the endge of extasy... Before that happens, he must have his own fun first, and watching his partner squirm below him is part of the experience...
Alas, there is a reason as to why it is such a rare sight. The nature, brutal as it tends to be, made it rather impossible to simultaneously top and get knocked up. Shame really...
Interacting with people here got me believing that there is a mythical land where male pregnancy is actually possible.
Some faraway location where people evolved in seclusion, which led to local men developing ability to get pregnant.
Entire population consisting almost enrierly of men, with their culture revolving around pregnancy, where being gravid is seen as a toll of everyday life while knocking a fellow man up, as a sign of respect.
Oh, hey, it's apparently Father's Day season around the world.
In celebration, remember to breed a man thoroughly, to make sure he is all knocked up by the end of the day.
Grant him the dream he wished for on the day meant to celebrate others like that.
Make him a father today, celebrate his womb, tease him about the offspring he's bound co carry from that point.
Should you be willing after the day comes to pass, stay and behold. Watch as with every day his stomach grows, experience the bulging womb you have helped to fill. Be there to witness him fulfilling his purpose of a man, a womb... a father.
And, if you stay, maybe he'd be willing to celebrate the next Father's Day time with you again...
Sun's up, blinds down, his body sprawled across the sofa, waiting for the unbearable power of the evening sun to cease.
Dressed in naught but his underwear, he sat there in semi-darkness. Heavy womb spreading his legs apart, his belly glossed in sweat like glitter, the cargo withn restlessly thumbling to disapprove of the heat.
Temperature too high to move, pregnancy too rowdy to sleep. Minutes stretched into hours, his body frozen in place by the blazing power of the sun. The only reminder of time's passage, the never ending movement within his womb
Thinking about a radioactive pregnancy, where any who comes into proximity to it becomes pregnant themselves. The effect is stronger logarithmically the closer you get. Imagine accidentally bumping into them, and waddling away from a massive baby bump you did not have seconds ago.
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