I know this isnāt what you imagined when those two lines appeared on your pregnancy test. You were excited, sure, because all it took was one ovulation cycle for you to get knocked up. Again. Ten and a half months after popping out my 9 pound son.
And now?
Now youāre pregnant with my triplets.
And youāre massive. Grotesquely so.
At four months your belly was already as big as some at full term. Nine months and one week later, your body is pushing past its natural limits.
Your fertile little body couldnāt help but release three eggs instead of one, hm? And youāre saying itās my fault three of my seeds took? Haha, I donāt think so, darling. Your body is one big baby trap. So prolific. And desperate not to make one Irish twin, no, three.
Iām sorry youāre so overdue, darling. But this is what you wanted. This is what you asked for when you climbed on top of me only six weeks after giving birth, tits still leaking with milk, riding out another load of my seed. Like you were in heat. Remember that? No? Ahā¦but I remember it for you.
Now here we are. I know I shouldnāt tell you thisā¦but I love that you need my help to get up from the bed, the chair, the couchā¦and fuck, I love watching you waddle out the door. An obscene display of what I did to you. Our neighbors can see it. Proof of how I filled your greedy little pussy up and turned your petite little frame into this. Everything about you is heavy, and ripe; soft and swollen. Even your maternity dresses are drum tight, showing off that belly button that pushed out into an outie from the sheer pressure of your belly bulging outward.
Three.
Babies.
Two boys and one girl.
You are stuffed. Utterly stuffed. And those babies are taking their sweet time.
I know you want to push them out. I know. You can barely move because they keep growing. They donāt want to come out, canāt you see? Your body is so perfect for growing my strong, big babiesā¦ my little baby factory.
Yes. I know you were due ten days ago. Donāt make it my fault.
What? You think I like seeing you this way?
Cāmonā¦thatās not fair. I donāt like seeing you struggleāuncomfortable, needy, desperate for your water to break.
Really, I donāt like it.
I love it.
And itās going to happen again, isnāt it darling?
When we exit the doctor's office, I cannot help but look at your profile again. Your belly is huge, so big that you have to waddle toward the car. Your hips are broader too, nice and wide to support the extra weight. The fabric of the dress is soft enough to reveal your belly button outie, so cute and round, pushing outward from the sheer size of my son growing inside your womb.
I open the door to the car so you can get in. I had to push the seat all the way back so you have enough room. I listen to you sigh and groan ever so slightly as you sit. Then, you breathe with your hands on your belly, eyes closed. I get into the driver's seat.
You opened your thighs just slightly to let your belly rest a little lower. Your boobs are nearly twice the size they were when you got pregnant. Ready to nurse and produce milk. I look at your profile, the fabric hugging your beach ball belly. It's gotten so big it's pushing out at the front, not round, but now oval-shaped.
My Godness, look at you...
When you notice that I haven't started the car, you glance over. You know that look in my eyes. Your gaze drops to my crotch. Yep...
Your hands start sliding over your bump, small circles, then larger ones. "You did this to me..." you whisper. My eyes close with the mere overstimulation of that sentence. All I had to do is come inside you. And now here we are. I've changed your body with my seed.
You slide your finger to your belly button, circling it, and then you lift your belly. So. Heavy. Who would have thought you'd look like this when you were on your hands and knees, desperate for my seed. Desperate to be knocked up.
"I'm already ready to pop," you say softly, pushing your bottom lip forward. "And I still have four weeks to go..."
Ngh...
My cock throbs at the image of you fondling your belly, sizing it up, weighing it. You tap your bump. "All it took was one load..."
I reach down to squeeze my aching cock. You see it and smirk.
"And now look at the state of me," you sigh and grab your tits. "They've never been this big... my ass is huge, my thighs so thick, and my hips get ready to push this baby out. That's what my body was made for, wasn't it?" you ask; I nod. "And you were made to make me look like this..."
Oh, fuck. "Baby daddy making big babies, hm?" You slip up your dress to show me your belly in its full glory. I love how your belly button popped out so noticeably. You trace a couple of blueish veins that show underneath your skin.
Stretched to the limit. Already.
"So full..." you mutter and push in your belly button. Again.. again... and then you start rubbing it. My lips part at what is unfolding in front of me. You slide your free hand underneath your belly, placing it against your panties. And then...you grind. Right here, in the parking lot, you grind...
You push in your belly button, rubbing it quicker while bucking back and forth. Just gently. My eyes are transfixed on you. You're getting off on this. On me being so obsessed with your huge pregnant form. With one finger on your belly button and the other helping your clit along, you move faster and faster and faster.
My hand is under my belly- the crease where my hips meet my forward growing and rounding abdomen. If you were to look at me youād guess Iām 5 months along at least. And that was the problem. I was only 8 weeks, but it was my fourth pregnancy and with each new pregnancy my body was giving itself away sooner and sooner each time.
Im staring at myself in the mirror. Wearing sweats and a sports bra thats a little too tight, no shirt, with my hair up in a messy bun. I look way too pregnant this early on. There was absolutely zero chance I was going to be able to hide this at all. I was already starting to round out and poke through some of my shirts.
āThere is literally no way I can hide this oneā
I couldnāt stop staring at myself in the mirror, I rubbed my soft belly, half expecting to feel a kick just from the size I was even though I knew it was weeks too soon. With my hand still on my belly, I thought about how badly I wanted to show with my first pregnancy. I couldnāt show fast enough and I didnāt pop out enough either. And now I took a test because I thought I already looked pregnant and the test only confirmed it.
The first time you got me pregnant I asked you every single day if you could tell I was pregnant yet, If I looked it, if you thought people we knew could tell, if you thought strangers who saw me in public could tell. I wanted people to know I was pregnant so bad and I carried that pregnancy so small. The milestones felt like they took forever and a day to reach. At that time I always wanted to be bigger. I saw moms on their second and third pregnancies and saw they had the bellies I wanted. And now, on my fourth, Iām bigger than I thought to be at this stage and I canāt believe how fast everything is happening.
You walk in and look at me grinning, pleased with yourself. āI love seeing you like this. It lets the world know youāre mineā
āIm too big for this early!ā
āAre we sure they measured you right?ā
āYes!! How am I supposed to hide this from anyone when this bump is already taking shape under my clothes! Look at how much Iām already protruding!ā
āSo we canāt have another after thisā¦?ā
I roll my eyes. āThatās not what I saidā
And I was right. I couldnāt hide it. People were already looking at me. Strangers not knowing any better looked at my belly more than any other pregnancy (or maybe I just paid even more attention) and friends and family that noticed my shirts fitting snug or round asked āanother oneā¦?ā Since I had recently just had our last.
And to make it worse, it was June. There was no way to cover up and hide it. Much too warm for that. At home I wore a bra but no shirts. In public I wore loose flowy clothing.
Everything hit sooner and harder. I was sleepier. I wanted more naps. I was hungrier. My cravings were so intense and I felt like I couldnāt stop eating.
I was also worried that Iād need to get even bigger maternity clothes than I already had. My belly button was already starting to change! From an innie to getting more and more shallow by the day.
By August, the four months mark, I was already starting to slow down how quickly I could lift myself up from sitting down. I started seeking out chairs that had arm rests so I could gently let myself down and push myself up. I started needing to pause what I was doing to take deeper breaths. I could not believe I was already breathing heavily and groaning to push myself up. When I had to sit on a bench, you knew the drill. You automatically got up and gave me your hand to pull me up when I had no armrests to help hoist myself up. And we both used those moments to gauge how much heavier Iād become since whenever the last time was that you had to pull me up. I didnāt need to beg you to notice how much I grew each day anymore. We could feel me weighing more each time.
I also carried this pregnancy much lower than my previous ones. My third was low but this felt even lower. If I wasnāt wearing a dress, my stretch mark filled belly was peaking out the bottom of any top I had. I realized quickly that it would only be a matter to time before dresses as shirts were going to be the only thing that fit me.
As I progressed stomach looked like it was carrying and being weighed down by a bowling ball. Besides the fact that I was putting on weight more quickly, the way I was carrying the extra weight was affecting my posture. I had given up on trying to prevent stretch marks after my second pregnancy. And they definitely were here during this fourth.
My belly was not the only place I was full of stretch marks on my body- I was spilling out of my shirts. Everything I wore looked inappropriate because it all was too tight. You loved telling me how much you loved to see my boobs jiggle as I walked around. When we lay in bed at night together you often gently use a finger to trace the stretch marks on my body, it helps with the self consciousness that kicks in when your body slowly stops remaining to be just yours.
By five and a half months I was already starting to feel the onset of waddling. People were constantly asking me when I was due and shocked at how much time I still had to go. I would get asked it I was having multiples constantly. And I was already able to start using my belly as a desk.
My body was always a play toy for you and my pregnant body was your favorite play toy. Whether it was absent-mindedly, while you were driving, when we were spooning, when you were lifting my belly to give me relief, or just because you wanted to feel, I loved it. Feeling your hand on me whenever I am pregnant feels better than having your hands on me when Iām not.
Now officially I my third trimester, I already looked ready to pop completely. I was so uncomfortable, I was starting to grow from big round belly to a belly that has nowhere to grow but forward. What was before a bowling ball shape now has a become a heavy round belly that has distinct downward curve that forced me to lean even further back whenever I have to walk (waddle slowly) in order for me to counter the weight pulling me forward. A layer of fat adds permanent love handles that fold at my hips.
I feel ridiculous in my own body. Every part of me is beyond the size of how I had previously carried. My widened hips are forcing me to waddle and prevent anything I owned from fitting. I feel like a caricature of myself. My heavy downward curved stomach refuses to be fully covered unless I wear maxi dresses. My tits is spilling out everything I own. Everything has stretch marks. Under my belly button, my tits, my widened hips, my bigger and softer ass.
And yet. When you come from behind me to lift the fourth belly youāve given me to help alleviate the back pressure and you whisper in my ear ācan we do this one last time?ā I canāt find it in me to say no. When you slowly release and the belly goes back to pulling me forward, I wonder if this is the last time Iāll ever feel this way again.
