Untitled @rosbar6678 - Tumblr Blog

Imagine You’re the Pregnant CFO of a Successful Company

Hello! You can call me Ros B. First time posting a story here! Feel free to follow me over at @rosbar6678 if you'd like. Hope you enjoy my fic!

You shift in your chair, fighting the urge to let out a sigh. You're 41 weeks pregnant, almost 42, and extremely uncomfortable. Your back has been hurting all day, your massive stomach feels rigid and tight, and there's a strange growing pressure in your hips that makes it really difficult to sit comfortably at all.

You're in a board meeting at your company, and your husband, the CEO, is currently presenting on the last quarter's product line. What had started as an illicit affair between two executives just over a year ago had unexpectedly resulted in you pregnant and married. You still couldn't totally believe it. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun between you two, something to help blow off steam at the end of a hard day at work (almost quite literally – there was a non-zero chance that your baby was conceived in this very meeting room), but you somehow managed to fall for each other.

You almost roll your eyes at how sappy and cliche it was, thinking about it now. Both you and your husband are very practical and logical people, it's part of the reason why you both have had such successful careers, but being with him threw all that practically and logic out the window. While he was stern and stoic at work, he was actually a very sweet and thoughtful man outside of it. And when you discovered you were pregnant, you two didn't even hesitate to go straight to the courthouse to make everything official. You both knew this was jeopardizing your jobs, but neither of you cared. And while you got sternly reprimanded by the board, they ultimately decided to keep you both on. The company had become hugely successful since you both started working there, after all.

earthmommy420

Imagine: Morning Birth

Imagine you've been laboring all night while your husband sleeps beside you. You're hugely pregnant, overdue even, and you start feeling contractions before you go to sleep. You decide to wait until things progress a little, able to breathe through the pain as it ebbs and flows throughout the night. You toss and turn, maybe get up to walk around your house and labor by yourself. You try to get some sleep, sometimes on the bed and sometimes on the couch, in between walking slowly and rocking your hips.

Imagine you feel the heaviness in your belly move lower and lower, until it feels like a watermelon is lodged in your pelvis. You breathe heavily now, panting with each contraction and wondering when you should wake up your husband. You make yourself some coffee, waddling onto your back porch to enjoy the sunrise while you labor. You bring a towel just in case.

Imagine sitting in your favorite rocking chair, rocking though the intensifying contractions, moaning softly and breathing ragged. Come on, come on, something has to give. This baby is so heavy you can barely walk, you have to be able to push soon.

You decide to take a shower to ease the pain, passing your still-sleeping husband on your way to the bathroom. You're thankful one of you has gotten rest before what's about to happen.

Imagine closing the bathroom door behind you and climbing into your shower to let the warm water run down your back. Oh, God, that feels so much better. Your hips ache from carrying the weight of your child, so you squat in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. Imagine the warmth seeping into your back from the shower as another contraction hits you. Ohhh, and this one hurts so much you let out a gentle moan. You grip your belly, unable to see your vagina to see how close you are to delivering but feeling how warm and tight it feels under your hands. The pressure is so great….until it isn't.

Imagine the gush of your water breaking, the gasp of surprise as all that pressure is relieved in an instant. Your belly feels softer for a bit, in between contractions. Feel how much water is pouring out of you, know that you're almost ready. You finish rinsing off and turn off the water, drying off and grabbing some fresh towels before climbing into bed beside your husband.

You face away from him, lying on your side with a pillow between your legs to let you rest without impeding the baby's progress. You try to get some rest in between contractions, breathing deeply. It feels so much better now that your waters broke, you can feel the baby moving towards your cervix.

A contraction hits you, and you squirm against the pressure building up again in your hips. You breathe heavily, your belly heaving and round. Something tells you to prop up your leg while you lay on your side. This opens up your hips to make more room, your baby moving through your body slowly with each contraction.

Imagine your husband gently waking up behind you. You're spooning in bed, his hand lazily stroking your middle, oblivious to what's happening right now. Imagine moving his hand down to the bulge forming between your legs, the baby's head filling your birth canal in between contractions. That's it, feel me push into your hand, love.

Imagine your husband suddenly awake, about to panic, until you reassure him everything is fine and that the baby's almost here. So you lie on your side, your husband spooning you from behind and holding up your leg to help you, and start pushing.

You reach down, huffing and puffing through the burning in your pussy as the head crowns.

"Keep going, you're so strong. Keep pushing," your husband whispers in your ear. You let out a little cry after a hard push, the head filling your hands until it fully emerges.

"The h-head is out…f-feel," you pant, catching your breath to prepare for the next contraction. Your husband, still holding your leg back, slowly adjusts position to reach down with his other hand.

"Oh my God, you're doing incredible," he murmurs, holding up the head of his child hanging out from between your legs. It's huge, the baby must be at least eight pounds.

Imagine your husband looking down at the sight of you, lying languidly in your bed, stomach hard and low, panting heavily at the enormous pressure in your tenderest areas. The sight of his baby hanging out of his beautiful, birthing wife is too much and he leans down to kiss you, planting kisses on your forehead when your breathing quickens at the start of another contraction.

Imagine burying your face into your pillow, drawing your legs back, and pushing as hard as you can. You're covered in sweat now, the hardest part of your labor almost over. You husband holds your leg with one hand, staring down at you mesmerized. This baby is huge, but it's sliding out of you a little at a time, your pushes coming one on top of another now.

Imagine it's time. Spread your legs a bit wider, and push. Puuuush. Imagine your partner exclaiming in delight, but you're too focused on giving birth to register what he's saying. He reaches down to cradle the head and body as the rest wriggles out of you.

Imagine your partner holding your freshly-born baby and kissing you fiercely, telling you he can't wait to watch you do that again.

earthmommy420

Imagine: Cozy Couch Birth

"Ugh…I don't know what I'm supposed to do here…" your husband mutters as his character dies again. You're sitting on the couch together, him playing video games while you labor with your first child. You encouraged him to play something so you could both distract yourselves, you from your worsening labor pains and him from his growing anxiety at seeing you in pain.

You're wearing nothing but a sports bra, sitting on a towel on your couch, a plush blanket over your lower half. You feel strangely cozy despite how heavy with baby you are and how close your contractions are getting together. You rub your distended belly, watching your husband play his game while your mind goes elsewhere.

"O-oh," you gasp quietly as fluid rushes out of you. Is that your water breaking? The pressure in your pelvis is building, concentrating on your cervix.

"You alright, honey?" Your husband has paused his game at an inopportune moment, shaken from his escapism by his worry for you. You let a breath out slowly through your mouth and nod.

"I'm fine, just a rough contraction. Keep playing, this helps." You reassure him even though you know the baby is coming soon, you don't want him to worry. There's something so normal about the way you're lounging on the sofa together, basking in these last moments before parenthood, that you don't want to break the spell just yet.

So instead you watch your husband engross himself in his game again and lie back to make yourself comfortable. The blanket over you conceals what's happening between your legs. Thankfully your waters were soaked up by the towels you'd placed beneath you, so your husband still isn't aware of how your labor is progressing.

You feel an ache in your cervix as your baby's head moves down into position. You rub your enormous belly soothingly, pretending to watch the boss fight when really you're just focused on keeping your breathing as even as possible. You feel your thighs tensing under the blanket, discreetly spreading to make room for your baby.

Feel the baby's head move through your pelvis. There you go, deep, even breaths. If your husband just peeked under the blanket, he'd see you're just about to crown, but he's busy at the moment. You breathe your baby into the birth canal, relishing the heavy pressure between your hips and the sensation of your body pushing on its own.

You subtly shift your hips, gasping quietly again as you feel your baby's head slide its way through your vagina in one big contraction.

Ohhh it's almost here now. Your husband is preoccupied, and you're too engrossed in giving birth to bother him. The feeling of your body pushing out your baby is incredible; you reach a hand underneath the blanket to feel your progress. You cup your baby's head with your palm, breathing deeply and almost silently.

"Still doing okay, honey?" your husband asks as he finishes looting, breaking your concentration. He can't know you're pushing into your hand right now, giving birth right beside him while he's oblivious.

"Yeah, it just feels more comfortable to lay like this," you reassure him. You're lying on your back, your womanhood facing towards your husband, the magic you're working only concealed by a throw blanket. You want to keep quiet but don't know how much longer you can hold on before you give in, spread your legs as wide as possible and push as hard as you can.

You breathe slowly and deeply as you feel the baby rotate inside you, your hand still guiding. You can't help yourself but pant a few times, your breathing raspy from trying to control it. Come on, you can feel the baby's head between your legs. Just a few more pushes, your body knows what it's doing.

Breathe, breathe, the baby's coming. Feel it slide out of you bit by bit, feel your body pushing for you. The shoulders are stuck. You just need to shift your hips a little, but you don't want to alert your husband just yet. Your body is giving birth on its own, you're just trying to breathe and relax as much as possible.

"You sure you're alright?" His voice sounds far away now. All you're aware of is your big round belly obstructing your view of your husband, and your hand cupping your baby's head as you birth, and your vagina stretched to its limits around your baby's shoulders.

You groan, and suddenly your husband is pulling back the blanket to see you quietly struggling to birth his baby.

"Oh my God…why didn't you say anything?!"

You're moaning with every push now, reaching down to deliver your baby, knowing birth is imminent. A hard contraction brings your hands to your hardened belly, so your husband reaches down to catch the baby.

"Oh! Oh! Oh, catch it, it's gonna be fast, darling!" you squeak, your body pushing the rest of your baby out into his waiting hands in one last wet contraction.

heavy-belly

About that birth fetish writing thingy. Could you do 14, twins, overdue, with a friend or partner please? 👉👈

During an important exam, twins, overdue, with a friend.

~ I kept having to shift my hips on the hard plastic chair, the top of the desk pressing uncomfortably into the tender area of my ribs where my belly once firmly sat before it dropped, now hanging nearly over my whole lap in a lopsided torpedo. I was so exhausted. I got almost no sleep yesterday between cramming as much as I could for the exam I was currently suffering through, and breathing through the braxton hicks and back twinges and bladder punches the twins put me through the whole evening and into the night. This was my midterm for the last gen ed class I had to take before graduating next semester, and the consequence for failing the class is either summer school or not graduating, neither of which were viable options, so I had to focus on the Intro to Philosophy and Logic test in front of me. I groaned softly under my breath and then began to quietly pant as another cramp gripped my lower back and wrapped around my belly, setting my pencil down to rub my hand firmly across the broad side of my bump. These practice contractions are starting to get extremely annoying. And they had to be that, the baby book said that braxton hicks are relieved by walking around, and I spent hours last night pacing my tiny dorm as the cramps came over me in waves, not quite consistent in time enough to worry me any more than any other labor scare has in the past week I’ve been overdue. They had to be practice contractions that just happened to be getting closer and closer together... Just like the pressure over my hips and my pelvis had to be from the babies shifting around and not from my body slowly working them down. And like the very full feeling just above my cunt that had me clenching my muscles was obviously the need for a bathroom break. And also the spotting and light leaking that had me wearing a pad was normal spotting and not me losing my mucus plug during class earlier today. None of this had to do with the fact that these babies should have come a week ago, and my belly was dropped so low it rested between my knees. I breathed out as the cramp released me, not noticing how much time had passed, and hurried to continue working on the essay portion of the exam in front of me. Thankfully the professor didn’t seem to notice anything either, her eyes firmly fixed on the enormous pile of research papers that sat in front of her, in the process of being read and graded. She also didn’t notice as a tiny, balled up shred of paper hit the back of my neck, forcing me to turn and look at my best friend in my track, who was suffering through this final gen ed with me. He raised an eyebrow at me and crudely mimicked the act of spreading his legs and motioning to something shooting out from between them, accompanied by a questioning thumbs up and thumbs down. I rolled my eyes at him and turned back around to continue working, my essay about a fourth of the way through with a cool 45 minutes left to complete it. I had to focus, and I couldn’t let my friend or the damn babies distract me from doing well in this class. I can hear him sigh behind me, and can feel his gaze boring a hole in the back of my head, but elect to ignore him. I see my phone light up where it sits on top of my backpack, and a notification pops up on the lockscreen under his name. | Dude, you can’t just ignore that you’re extremely overdue and literally actively about to pop out those babies, holy shit. | A moment passes. | I’m timing them, disphit. | I grumbled, shaking my head and returning to furiously writing about Pythagoras and universal ratios.

After a while of scribbling, though not as long as I would have liked, I could feel my back muscles start to tighten up, and I try to squeeze my thighs shut on instinct. It’s an action that does more harm than good, as I squeeze my already contracting belly between my legs, and press it up against the hard surface of the desk’s bottom, the vice grip of my muscles tightening further in reaction to the external force. I let out a soft hiss and hunch over my drum tight belly, both hands frantically rubbing at my bloated flanks to try and soothe the pain, but it doesn’t help. The cramp lingers, and I’m forced to ride it out by breathing heavily through my nose. I’m bouncing lightly in my seat, my already sore and achy pussy twinging every time it grinds down into the plastic, but my hips feel so tight that I need to move them. I can feel one of the babies’ heads shift down to rest right over the base of my pelvis, head pressing down right between my hips, and it feels like if I move wrong it’ll just fall out of me. The other is still up higher, but I can tell its head is facing downward because it gives several firm kicks to my ribs, unhappy with the pressure squeezing around it and forcing it down. There’s a light on my periphery. | THAT WAS SIX MINUTES. HOSPITAL. NOW. | I once more ignore his text, not even waiting for the contraction to end before I’m back to writing my essay, now at least half way done. I’ve always been a quick writer, and we were given a set of potential prompts beforehand, so I had an idea of what I wanted to write anyways. I could do this. I could finish this and then I could go to the hospital and have my babies.

I quietly groaned my way through another four contractions before I got to the conclusion of the essay, pausing every still-six-minutes-somehow to let out a steady stream of air in my nose and the back of my throat. The bouncing was consistent, except for when I had to stop to either swivel my hips, or slide a hand between my trembling thighs to apply pressure to where I could feel my lips starting to bulge a little. Fuck, the head was right there. I could feel it. I had been fighting the growing urge to push for the last three contractions, knowing that I probably was almost totally dilated, if not at 10 centimeters already. My phone had been blinking with light as well, my friend urging me to finish the exam later, telling me we needed to go now, asking if I was insane. I continued to ignore it, focusing on the last few lines I needed to fill out the end of my essay. I’d done it. The exam was over.

I put my pencil down, and let out a breath of release, my whole body naturally relaxing as the weight of academic failure was brushed off my shoulders. But that was a big mistake. As if sensing the permission it was being given, immediately my belly was caught in a vicious contraction that had me clinging to my desktop, with one hand clutching my bump in alarm as it was gripped in a cramp so strong that the outline of my uterus was visible, and the torpedo droop of it stood straight forward. I let out a hiss of pain through my teeth, tears immediately springing to my eyes as I felt the bulge in my pussy press further. I couldn’t help it as my legs shifted ever so slightly apart, and I let out a soft grunt. *POP* *Splash!* The sound of my water breaking seemed gargantuan in the silence of the classroom, and immediately all eyes were on me, panting softly and holding my belly in both hands as a wet spot spread across the crotch of my pants and the carpet beneath me. I was flushed as I quickly gathered my backpack and handed in my exam, gesturing with my head for my best friend to follow. He scrambled after me, muttering apologies to the professor and assurances that he’d make up the exam later as he quickly moved to support me. As soon as I got out of the lecture hall and into the hallway, I let myself moan. My massively overdue waddle was pronounced, legs bowed and gait heavy as I dripped a trail of amniotic fluid behind me, shuffling toward the exit as fast as I could. “Holy shit, are you fucking nuts? I’m calling a fucking ambulance, your water broke, and we’re at least twenty minutes from the nearest hospital and I don’t think you have that long, idiot!” My friend grabbed my backpack from me, and I let him as I stopped right before we got to the exit, pausing our escape by putting a hand on his arm. “What?” He asked, finger stilling over the call button. I swallowed heavily, suddenly feeling like I might throw up. “I definitely don’t have that long. The head’s coming out.” My voice was a mournful groan as I felt another contraction pull every muscle in my back and belly taut. I bent my knees and held a hand to my lower back, frantically squeezing at the tight muscles there as my other hand reached down into my sweatpants to cup my pussy where I could feel it starting to spread through my pad and underwear. Fuck, I was pushing. I didn’t mean to be, but it’s like I didn’t have a choice. There was so much pressure, and the baby was coming now. I whimpered a bit, squeezing my eyes shut to push once more before the contraction relented enough that I could start hobbling in the direction of the men’s room. My friend quickly rushed after me, holding me by the elbow and one hip and ushering me along as his phone’s dial tone rang and rang and rang on speakerphone. As soon as I got to the restroom, my knees hit the tile. I ignored everything else around me. I grabbed my thighs, digging my nails into them as my back muscles screamed and my gravid stomach tightened so hard that I could see the shape of it change under my shirt, shifting up and under my ribs instead of hanging down low into my lap. I grunted with the effort as my body started to once more push against my will, eyes scrunching up as I finally gave in and let out a strangled moan. One hand quickly moved from my thigh to my crotch as I felt the bulge in my panties grow. I was going to crown, and my pants were still on. I couldn’t speak while the contraction still gripped my body, reduced to grunts and groans and half-screams as I tried to work the first baby out of me, but I was able to pull down the waistband of my sweats enough that my friend realized what was going on. He quickly set down the phone, the first responder on the other line audible but incomprehensible to me as I panted between hellish contractions. All of a sudden, my friend's hands were there, gently yanking down my sweats and starting to roll my maternity panties down my thighs. My fingers found their way back to my pussy, where I could feel the baby’s head was almost at a full

crown, and I moaned at the feeling of being stretched in that way. “Oh god, it’s almost out. Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’ve gotta- I’ve gotta… Hhh? HhhhHHHNNNNNG.” My knees slid as far apart as they could with my sweatpants still around them, and immediately my whole body was on fire. “HHHHHNNNNNNNNG oh god, burning, burning, the head-” I groaned, and leaned forward my belly drum tight but still massive enough to brush the cool tile. My hand was trapped between my bump and the floor, fingers trying to help spread myself open as the head inched forward and backwards through my stretching cunt. I let out another frantic grunt and suddenly the tile under me was slick with the gush of fluid that accompanied my baby’s head. My friend’s warm palm gently rubbed my lower back where my muscles were cramping with the residual shock of my last contraction, and I could hear him whispering words of encouragement to me. “Ohhhhhhh, it’s out, it’s almost out, please, god, my belly, please!” He seemed to understand what I meant, and his arm around me to rub firm circles into my flank as I panted and rested, waiting for another contraction to help me shove the rest of my baby out. For a fleeting moment, it was just him holding me while I breathed. And then I felt my body tense once more and knew this was it. My spine hunched and belly jumped as I let out a series of short, sharp grunts, slowly forcing my baby out of me inch by inch until… “UGH UGH UGH UGH UNGH HHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The head shoved my hand out, and soon the body spilled after, the shoulders twisting as they pushed past my burning, aching pussy. My friend let go of me, quickly catching the baby before it could hit the cold tile floor, and instantly the sound of crying echoed through the bathroom. Tears streamed down my face as a wave of relief rushed over me, and I fell backwards onto my ass so I could reach out for my baby, cord still connected. My friend quickly handed him over, and I swiped my finger around his mouth and nose, clearing his airways, before I suddenly remembered. My baby, a little boy, rested atop my still-occupied belly. I moaned, suddenly aware of how sore I was down there, and dread crept up my spine. “I can’t… I can’t do this again. I can’t.” My friend looked at me with such sadness and pity in his eyes. “The ambulance should be here in about five, if you can hold off that long.” I paused, taking assessment of my body. I still felt like I needed to push, but it wasn’t quite as urgent. The second head was still right there behind my lips, and I could feel the heavy bulge in my pelvis. I nodded, and he let out a breath of relief, kneeling down to put an arm around my shoulders to help support me while I held my son to my chest. Five minutes doesn’t seem like much time at all, in the grand scheme of things. I could make it five minutes. Of course I could. I could ignore the tell-tale tightening of my lower back, my whole body tensing in response. I could ignore the need to shift my hips that left me wiggling my bare ass against the slick bathroom tiles. I could ignore the subtle spread of my legs as the pressure, the insane amount of pressure, quickly ratcheted up. I clearly wasn’t doing a good job hiding my discomfort, because immediately my friend’s hand went to my bump and rubbed it as if he could convince it to relax. “Nononononono! No, you cannot have another baby in this bathroom! One bathroom baby is enough! You gotta hold it.” By this point I was panting, trying so hard not to give in and start pushing. I shifted my baby to one arm, my free hand coming to join his in rubbing my contracting belly as I let out a moan of despair and frustration. “ I can’t! Pressure! The pressure-! I’ve gotta push! It’s right there, the head is right there, I gotta… gotta… oooooooooh… ooooOOOOOOHHHHHHH FFFFFFFFFUUUU-” In an instant, my legs were as far open as I could spread them, and I felt the tell tale sting of a baby’s head starting to inch its way past my lips, bulging out my pussy as I pushed with all my might. I screamed as the

contraction didn’t let up, keeping my muscles locked tight in one long push that seemed to last forever, until I heard the now-familiar sound of fluid hitting the bathroom floor. The head was out. In one push, the head was out. I groaned as it spread me open, keeping my thighs apart as my weight rested pretty much entirely on my friend, who whispered a faint ‘holy shit’ behind me as I panted and shifted my hips. It was almost over. A few more good pushes and it would all be done. And it didn’t take long. Before I even had a chance to catch my breath, a vice-grip caught my worn out muscles, and there was nothing I could do to resist my body’s animalistic pull to grunt and scream and cry and push with every last ounce of strength I had. I could feel the stretch and pull of my pussy as I forcibly shoved with all my might, my teeth gritted and legs butterflied out as my baby’s body hung out between them, shoulders free. “GET OUT GET OUT GET OUUUUUUUT!” I screeched. And just like that, it was over. My baby slid out onto the tile between my blood and fluid covered thighs, which trembled with exhaustion as my body finally relaxed. And then there was crying. My second baby boy. The EMTs arrived another five minutes after that (a time I now know I never could have waited), and traveled me, my children, and their newly appointed godfather to the hospital to make sure the three of us were healthy. Thankfully there were no complications. A month later, I received my graded essay. It was a B+ with an added note. Bonus points raising it to an A. Perfectly comprehensive points. Perhaps next time, try not to have your baby in my class? - Prof. Roberts.

pumpkinbirth

Unexpected Mall Birth

You thought you had more time.

Sure, you knew full well you were cutting it close, but you thought you had at least another week left. That was how you’d reasoned yourself into going out today; you were starting to get a little stir-crazy anyway and you figured a walk around the mall might do you some good. Not to mention it was early on a Monday, which meant there would hardly be anybody there, so you could be as leisurely as you pleased.

It also meant there weren’t too many people around when you winced and rubbed your swollen belly, caught off guard by a faint twinge of pain. You were quick to reason this away too; it wasn’t your first bout of braxton-hicks and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But as you kept walking, they kept coming, and eventually you couldn’t distract yourself any longer.

“Mnh…just gotta sit for a little bit, it’s fine…” you murmured to yourself, your hand still cradling your belly as you sought out a bench not too far away. A loud sigh of relief left you when you finally sat, and you hummed softly as both your hands ran over your bump, the soft fabric of your sundress stretched tightly over it. Feeling better already, you chuckled quietly at how you’d almost panicked over nothing–

“N-nnh…!”

Or what was quickly proving to not be nothing.

That one had hurt, many levels above the slight discomfort you’d experienced before, and your heart raced as it settled in. You were really in labor. You’d parked clear on the other side of the mall, and while initially you thought you might make it back, another contraction gripped you as soon as you stood from the bench.

So that option was out. Ask for help, maybe? You were out of luck on that front too; the mall was pretty much dead, just how you’d anticipated. Now you were really panicking, although you did your best not to show it. What were you going to do?

As you scanned your surroundings, your eyes settled on a bathroom a little ways off. There was a small sign on the front saying it was closed, something about it currently being renovated and if you could please use another of their available bathrooms.

“Fuck tha-aah!-t…” you groaned, clenching your teeth through this contraction. You walked as fast as you could, something in you felt you were rapidly running short on time, and you quickly looked over your shoulder before entering the bathroom, which had blessedly been left unlocked. The door had barely clicked shut when you cried out, they were coming faster and faster now. Your belly felt lower, your hands trembling slightly as you rubbed and attempted to soothe yourself, trying to remember how you should be breathing.

Your train of thought was soon interrupted by a contraction, but this one felt different. Something shifted in you, and you barely managed to stifle a cry as your water finally broke. It just kept coming, a low moan escaping you as you felt the liquid gush down your shaking legs.

“Shit, it’s r-really coming…!” you whimpered, chest heaving with every breath.

It took a moment for you to gather yourself enough to move, carefully sidestepping the puddle of amniotic fluid while it kept trickling out of you, and you finally made it into the handicap stall, not bothering to close it. With your back to the wall you inched your way down until you were seated on the floor, the cool tile a welcome relief against your heated flesh. Once another contraction came and went, you hurriedly shifted your ruined panties down, struggling to finally get them off before your hand moved to your cunt. You whined softly, slipping two fingers into yourself to check how far you were, even though you honestly had no clue what ten centimeters would even feel like. Your cervix certainly felt open enough, and even if it wasn’t you were sure you wouldn’t be able to wait any longer.

You braced yourself against the wall, your hands hooked under your knees to keep your legs as spread as they could go, and when the next contraction came you finally gave in, bearing down with your first push. Despite your best efforts to stay quiet you were quickly losing that battle, and when you pushed again a guttural moan escaped your throat.

“M-mmnnngh, please, c’mon baby, please…” Your hands were on your belly again, pressing down with every push as you tried to hasten things along. After a bit you felt yourself again, your pussy bulging as your baby was on the verge of crowning. In an attempt to feel something besides the searing pain your fingertips brushed over your clit, swollen and throbbing with all your efforts. The pleasure mixed oddly yet perfectly with the pain, and you kept going just like that; one hand rubbing at your tight belly, the other rubbing furious circles at your clit. It wasn’t long before you could feel it coming, and you moaned with loud abandon as several things happened at once; you came, gushing a mix of squirt and birthing fluid, and your hips bucked forward as your baby’s head finally crowned, stretching you impossibly wide.

“Ffffuck!! Oh fuck, a-almost there…!!” Panting heavily, you took this opportunity of clarity to shift positions, gradually propping yourself up to a squat. Your baby felt so heavy between your legs, and you hoped being like this would help it along. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, and with this next contraction you bore down, sweaty hands gripping your thighs. Your laboring cunt stretched wider still, making way for one shoulder, then another, and you moaned loudly as finally, finally the rest of your baby slid out of you. You caught it with shaking hands, blood and birthing fluids dripping from you, and you slid exhausted back onto the bathroom floor.

Imagine You’re the Pregnant CFO of a Successful Company...

First time posting a story like this. Hope you enjoy it!

And now, your husband was presenting on exactly how successful the company had become, particularly in this last quarter, and you were to be presenting next.

You adjust yourself in the chair again, trying to ease any of the discomfort in your body, but it's pretty futile. Your husband's eyes dart over to you for a moment, narrowing imperceptibly as he spoke. He has been trying to get you to go on maternity leave for weeks now, but you've refused. Even this morning, as the two of you got ready for work, he tried to convince you to stay home.

imagineyourepregnant

Imagine You're a Viking War Prize (Part IV)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

The pains that you awaited so impatiently have come at last, fiercer than you could have expected. Outside, the wind howls, snow piling high against the hut. You will be alone for this, you and Den, the two of you bringing this child into the world the way you made it.

Despite the storm that rages outside, you are unbearably hot. Sweat rolls down your brow, through the loose strands of hair that have escaped from your braid as you pace and you groan as a fresh wave of heat and tightness washes over you.

Den’s fingers press into the small of your back, just above where the burning ache has settled. Your arms hang around his neck, his broad shoulders carrying most of your weight, and you press your face into his chest. His skin is cool against your own, a small relief.

The pain passes, finally, and you sag against Den’s chest.

“Good,” he says. “Good.”

The encouragement barely registers, as the pain returns and your world narrows to the heat of your skin, the burning downward pressure of the child within your belly.

***

They’re coming faster now, the pains, one fading into the next with scarcely enough time for you to catch your breath between, it seems.

The early hours of your labor were nothing compared to this and you begin to wish that you’d taken the chance to rest when you could. Instead, you’d spent them with Den’s hands on your body. Now to can barely stand his touch, your skin is so hot, so sensitive and overwrought and burning. Absurdly, though, the memory of his mouth on your breast, his fingers circling slowly between your legs, makes something not altogether unpleasant pulse between your thighs, cresting as the pain does.

You moan.

You feel, more than hear, Den’s breath catch at the noise. He knows that moan, you imagine, the one you make for him and him alone.

He strokes your hair, presses a kiss to your forehead, and ignores the sound of pleasure that you surely couldn’t have made.

This is not a man’s place, you think, pacing out of your husband’s embrace.. You attended many a birth with your mother, before you were brought here, and you cannot recall a man in the birthing room at a single one. Perhaps, you think, this is why, this pleasure that you have never heard discussed, that pulses through you when you should be feeling anything but.

Leaning heavily against one of the beams in the hut, you struggle to catch your breath. Your legs shake beneath you and Den, ever attentive, catches you and holds you steady. The fleeting arousal flares again at his touch.

You moan louder this time, pressing Den’s hand into the swell of your belly. There is a nudge against your backside: your husband’s cock swelling at the noises escaping you.

There’s nothing to be done about it, not while your child is still fighting to escape your body, but you flush hotter at the notion that your pleasure is shared.

***

Den’s hand reaches out for the bare skin of your back but you shrug him off. The fire is hot, the hut is hot, your skin is hot. It’s burning and his touch is too much. “Too much,” you murmur, your body rocking against the bed as you kneel on the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he says, your great, hulking Jarl of a husband, who is so patient, so tender when you need him to be. “I didn’t mean-”

“Talk to me.” You need the distraction.

Your womb tightens again, a counterpoint to the crushing pain at the base of your spine, and you cry out.

Although your face is pressed to the bed, which Den stripped to the sheets hours ago, you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He looks lost, more so than you think you’ve ever seen.

“Make me want you,” you sigh. He won’t succeed. You know that the pain is too much, the pleasure too ephemeral, but there may be something to be gained in the trying. “I was thinking about before, when you touched me.”

“You felt so tight,” he says softly, hesitantly. “Your belly. Tight and full, hard as my cock gets when I think about you.”

His words stoke the feeling within you again, pulsing and throbbing with the pressure of the child within you. Your belly is tight like that now, gripped by the throes of another contraction, and you run your hand over your mounded stomach, nodding. “Tell me more.”

“I wish I could touch you,” Den says into your ear. “Lick you, fuck you. You must be so soft now, all warm and slick and open. I’d slide right into you.”

You groan. Between your legs, there is a driving pressure, spreading between the wings of your hips, the child pushing down and out of you. There is also a warmth, bubbling up at Den’s words. You pant, lightheaded, focusing only on his words, the waves of pleasure and pressure and pain that wash over you.

The sensations peak, all of them at once, and you cry out. Your face is wet, you realize, slicked with sweat like the rest of your body.

Sparing a glance at Den, your shudder to see that, rather than touching you, he is palming his stiff cock through his woollen pants. It is enough to make your insides throb. You can’t tell whether the pleasure brings pain or vice versa, but another contraction grips you right on the heels of the last.

The time draws near..

***

You throw your head back, crying out as Den’s fingers circle just above the nub between your legs. You are on your back now, legs and arms splayed across the bare sheets. His mouth his at your breast, suckling and licking, drawing pressure to match the press of his fingers against you, the push of the babe within.

The world narrows to the space encompassed by your body, the places where your husband’s touches it.

Your are so full, aware of nothing but the descent of your child’s head between your hips, stretching you apart. There is something fitting in the stretch, not dissimilar to the press of Den’s cock within you, and your hips writhe, seeking some sort of relief, caught between pain and pressure and ecstasy, but it eludes you.

Instead, the sensations mingle together into an overwhelming urge to push.

***

A bolt of cloth has hung tied to the rafters of your hut for weeks now. It is an old trick, one learned years ago from your mother to help in just such an occasion, a tactic to aid stubborn babies’ passage into the world.

The fabric is damp in your fists, but you hold it tightly. Teetering on the edge of the bed, you put your weight into the security of the cloth. Your muscles clench in protest, clenching around the solid weight of the child crowing between your legs. The lips of your cunt burn from the stretch, but the pressure is so heavy and satisfying that you push into it.

You are moaning, you think, or groaning perhaps, along with the waves of pain, with the stroke of Den’s hands along your spread thighs.

Your husband’s hands trace your skin, but his eyes are fixed firmly between your legs. You can see the outline of his cock still, hard and long. “You’re beautiful like this,” he says. “You’re stretched so wide. Wider than I stretch you, even. I can see the whole head. Feel.”

Reaching between your legs, you feel it, the warm, pulsing bulge. Your body pushes harder, almost as though you have no choice in the matter, just as you have had no choice in the way your body has swelled these last months. This child will make its way into the world of its own volition, but you want to do your best to help it along.

Catching Den’s gaze, you push harder, leaning heavy into the cloth rope for leverage. You feel the burning stretch again, like you are splitting open, the pressure building and building, brushing that spot inside of you that Den so loves to stroke, until finally, something gives way and you feel the rest of your child slide from your body into Den’s waiting hands. You cry out, the relief more exquisite than anything you think you’ve ever experienced, and you sink to the ground.

“A boy,” Den cries, cradling the squalling infant to your chest.

“A boy,” you echo. A perfect son, the first of many, you hope.

You turn your attention to the child, secure in the knowledge that you have given your husband a strong heir. You have done your duty, willingly, happily, and found pleasure in it. More than that, you have found a family where yours was lost, a purpose where you had none. You cannot wait to see how it will grow.

(Sorry for the long wait! Hope the conclusion was worth it! Thanks for reading-Asphodel)

thatdude159

I downloaded this crowning video from before the tumblr porn ban, so I don’t remember where it’s from anymore. But otherwise, enjoy!

thatdude159

Tumblr’s dumb NSFW filters wouldn’t let me post the direct youtube link to this fantastic birth video, so I’ll be posting a link to it on my google drive instead. Here’s a non-direct link to the video: hxxps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5nxZB3pKiR0

lowhangingbelly

Matt began to sweat as soon as she walked in to the wedding venue with her husband. He wasn't the only one. She caught the attention of a few other family members who immediately ran over to greet them. A couple bent over to coo at the massive torpedo bump that stuck out far under her dress.

He took a sip of his water and listened, opting to focus on the decorations while he eavesdropped.

She was past due and massively pregnant with a set of healthy, large twins. Because of how close she was to giving birth, she wasn't supposed to attend the wedding today. However, the bride was her husbands little sister, and she was coaxed into attending by the man.

He happened to take one glance over to where they stood and as soon as his eyes fell on the couple, her husband went behind her and wrapped both hands around the base of her bump.

His cock twitched.

The babies had dropped so low, her belly hung down to her thighs just standing up. A couple of guests gasped in awe. One asked how she was still standing. Another woman said that's how she looked just hours before her youngest was born. The boring small talk began and he zoned out, focusing on greeting a few guests before the main event started.

As the time drew closer, everyone took their seats. Matt sat at the very end of one of the front rows and waited. His brain had completely forgotten about the man and his overly pregnant wife.

Until they came to his row.

Earlier, he had only seen her standing in one spot when they entered and chatted with family members. Now that she was up and walking, he was hit with a pang of sympathy for the woman. Her body was so overtaxed. Her stance was wide with a gait that was awkward and slow. She reached his row, and he was now watching her waddle heavily towards him. The sway of her belly was pronounced and exaggerated, moving with the weight of two full-term babies and amniotic fluid, reacting to ever calculated step she took.

She eventually reached her chair which was almost next to his. The space in between the two of them was occupied by the purse that was hastily thrown on it. She giggled and apologized for it bumping his arm, and he smiled and waved it off.

Then came the difficult task of sitting.

She spread her legs wide and motioned for her husband to help. He was quick to wrap an arm under hers and the two of them bent their knees, getting lower and lower together. Apparently, it was still too fast for the mother-to-be, and she shouted for her husband as her hips bucked upwards and the hand that wasn't clinging to her man's suit flew down to the base of her belly.

He jumped in his seat, thinking a baby would just fall out with her sudden movement.

"Dom, stop! Wait!"

It must've scared Dom just as much because he looked panicked for a brief moment before bringing his hand down to cover hers at the bottom of her belly. The two of them lifted the weight off her hips together and sat her down properly. Her face twisted as she shifted in the chair that creaked under all that weight.

He listened as she whimpered quietly. Her husband rubbed aggressively at her lower back and whispered something in her ear. She whispered back. Something about Braxton Hicks, a head, and her pelvis. A false pain triggered by a big baby in her hips, he assumed.

The ceremony began, and the rest was uneventful. The bride came and everyone stood except for the woman.

She couldn't.

He looked down briefly to see her eyes closed as she swayed lightly in her seat, using the distraction to her advantage. Her eyes flew open suddenly, and her gaze was now fixed on the chair in front of her. One of the hands that was resting at the top of her belly flew down to her crotch. She stopped breathing as she felt down there for a moment. He waited for a burst or a trickle of water. They both did. But there was none. She released a breath and closed her eyes again as her husband sat down and the ceremony continued.

He paid attention to wedding all the way through, and was happy that his coworker finally tied the knot. The wedding party left and the guests were starting to file out. He looked down at the overdue woman, curious as to how she would look trying to stand up while being so ripe with child. She looked like she was mentally preparing for the ordeal, and nodded to Dom when she was ready.

He slung her arm over his shoulders and counted to three. The two of them struggled. Her legs shook from the weight as a hand lifted the base of her belly. He didn't know what pushed him to do this, but he immediately moved to her side and offered help to the couple. One of his hands grabbed her other arm while the other went to the small of her back. He could feel the pull of her baby filled mound on her spine through the fabric of the dress.

She was fully on her feet within a few seconds with the extra help, and swayed a little as she adjusted to the gravity. He released her and backed away. The couple thanked him, and he nodded. He looked down at her belly and swore it hung lower now than it did when they came in. They turned to leave, and he noticed she waddled more heavily, her stance a little wider.

He followed suit as everyone left the venue for the reception building that was across town. Everyone hopped in their cars and headed out. He did the same.

They pulled up to the mansion where the reception was being held. He entered the building and started his own tour since he'd arrived earlier than most of the other guests. There were two ballrooms, a dining room, a kitchen, living area, and bedrooms in the upstairs. He opened the double doors to one of them and saw a king sized bed covered in roses and drapes.

His mind wandered.

He thought of the woman. He imagined her there, swaying her hips in the middle of the bed, deep in the throes of childbirth, sheets soaked with sweat and the waters that exploded after an intense labor pain. His cock swelled as he imagined her belly heaving and rock solid, so tight that he could see the outline of a baby through her skin. He could hear the sounds in his head. The sounds of birth. Anguish. Pain. He could see the crown behind his closed eyes. He deserpstely wanted to be the one to guide both of her children into the world.

He needed a bathroom.

There was one down the hall. It was vacant, much to his relief. He rubbed a quick one out before going back to the first ballroom where people began to gather.

To his surprise, he saw Dom and his wife. They moved slower than ever, but there they were, coming down the main hall together. He was shocked. He expected them to go straight to the labor and delivery ward after the wedding, but it seems they had other plans.

Dom whispered something in her ear and she nodded. He ran ahead, leaving her alone with nothing to lean on but a table that was by the entrance to the ballroom. One hand was braced on the table while the other cradled her torpedo shaped load. At that moment he couldn't help himself. He had to say something.

As soon as the wide space between them was halfway closed, Dom came back. He made the quick decision to act as if he needed something on the other side of the hall. Lucky for him, there was a water tower just across from the couple. He occupied the space there and listened.

"They're cutting the cake in a few hours. Can you wait until then?"

She groaned. "Babe, I don't know if I have three hours in me."

She absolutely did not have three hours in her. She was about to drop now.

"Where is she sitting?"

"She's low, Dom. She's so low." His wife's voice was so tired and pitiful. "There's so much pressure. She's so big."

Don chewed on his bottom lip. "Look, if we go to the hospital now, we might be sitting there for a good ten hours before your water even breaks."

She raised her voice, growing more and more frustrated by the second. "We had to stop to the corner store on the way here! I had to put on a pad, Don! I'm leaking! Are these kids even important to you?"

"Don't even go there, Cara. You know they are."

"Then act like it!"

"I wanted you to be induced last week like the doctors recommended! It's not my fault you wanted to wait and now you're scared! You wanna give birth so bad? Fine then, call a fucking cab and go!"

"I'm not doing this without you."

"Then you'll have to wait. This is my only sibling, Cara. I can't miss this. I love you and the kids. You know that. But I can't miss this."

Clapping came from inside the ballroom. Cara sighed and placed both hands on the table, closing her eyes.

"They cut the cake. We leave." She said with flared nostrils and clenched teeth.

Don let out a sigh of relief and nodded. He reached out to touch her, but she snapped at him and waddled ahead into the ballroom with both hands digging into her back. Matt shook his head and followed close behind.

The night went on and the couple disappeared from view. He had left the ballroom and entered the empty one, not caring to see them cut the cake. Instead, he explored the other large area and found a flight of stairs that led to a mini hall. In the middle, there was a balcony that overlooked the living area. It was spacious with a sofa in the middle than faced a large, marble fireplace. The room was decorated with tables, chairs, and different types of plants. A few expensive looking paintings hung around the walls.

He took a seat on the balcony and opted to admire the view for a while before going back to mingle with the guests once more. He played games on his phone and scrolled through social media, enjoying the break while taking a few pictures of the living room with different angles and filters.

Then the doors burst open.

Cara waddled in and shut them quickly before throwing herself on the nearest table. She was frantic and grunting through what he assumed was the worst contraction she'd felt so far. He could tell by her sounds that it hadn't peaked yet. Her voice rose with the pain.

The contraction finally reached its maximum power, and she began to call out to the void. "GOD PLEASE!"

His cock stiffened.

"PLEASE!"

It wept with precum.

"Fuck, FUCK I'M–"

What could only be described as a waterfall came from under her dress. He placed a hand tight over his mouth as he shot a load into his pants. She began to blow out of her mouth hard as the weight of the first baby crashed down on her dilating cervix, nearly taking her to the floor in the process. Her arms and legs shook violently as she forced herself to remain upright, no matter how bad she wanted to drop down on the marble floor and bear her twins.

He watched as another contraction hit as soon as the last one ended. More water hit the floor. He knew he should be calling an ambulance, but he was frozen in his seat with his eyes glued on the birthing woman.

She flung herself from the table to the back of the sofa as the next pain came to a head.

"Don't push." He could barely hear her whisper. "Don't push. Don't push. D–"

A strangled cry was ripped from her throat as she gave in to her body's need to bring the child down and out. He knew she needed to check her dilation. She knew she needed to check her dilation.

When the pain released her, she pulled a phone from her dress pocket and began to type. After a few seconds of scrolling and tapping, she moved to the front of the sofa and, with a lot of effort, propped one leg up on the cushions. Matt craned his neck so he could see a bit better, but was careful not to get caught watching.

Cara waited for the next pain to pass, wailing until it was over. Then she hiked her dress up to reveal an angry, red bump that was riddled with stretch marks from carrying so much babe. Her hand vanished under her load and she groaned out loud. It didn't take long for her face to go white.

"No. No-no-no-no-no. No, I can't." She panicked even more, feeling a head at the tip of her fingers, her cervix fully blasted around it. Another pain came, and she gave in, keeping her leg hiked up on the sofa as she bore down.

Right when she thought the baby would fall out, Dom came in the room.

"Cara? They cut the cake, we can–" He slipped on the puddle of amniotic fluid at the door, but kept his balance. He looked frantically at his wife who was fully focused on pushing out the first of his kids.

She looked up at her stunned husband through pained, pleading eyes when the pain ended. "Dom! Dom, I need you! I need you, babe!"

"Oh shit." He said as reality finally hit. "Oh, sweetheart I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cara."

He was at her side in a flash with a hand on her belly. He looked down at her dress that had been ruined by birth and sweat. There was so much she wanted to tell him but couldn't. Instead, she guided his hand down under her dress to cup the crown of his first born. Don gasped and blinked rapidly.

It took a moment, but she was finally able to put a few words together.

"Big! Too big!"

Dom kissed her neck. "Do you think you can hold her there while I get the truck? I'll be fast."

Cara shook her head. "She's coming now. She's coming, Dom, don't leave. Please don't leave me."

With a bulge that large, he knew that baby was going nowhere. At least not immediately. Cara was right. It was very large. But after holding back for so long, her body was ready for this baby to come, and forced the child down faster than she thought it would move for its size. She moved the baby from a simple teardrop shape to the forehead in one push alone.

"I'll be quick. I'm sorry, sweetie. I'll be very quick."

A scream tore though the air as he ran out the door and down the hall. The next contraction was hard on the poor mother.

"DOM! DOM, I NEED YOU!"

Two more pains came and went. She pushed aggressively with both, unable to wait for her husband. This baby was demanding to be born now. He watched from the balcony as she tucked the dress under her breasts and shifted her hips. He now had a partial view of her opening, and could see where the baby was stuck at a full crown from his seat.

He shot another load.

Water spurted in all directions as the head passed. The sofa was ruined. She held the large head in her hand and swayed like she was about to pass out. Her eyes rolled back as the baby rotated. The shoulders grinding on her sensitive opening, a movement that made her hips buck in pain as she saw stars.

Dom returned, and swept her away with a hand holding the head of his impatient baby in place. Cara was limp and delirious as she put all of her weight on her husband. Just the head of the first baby alone had taken its toll from the looks of it. But she stumbled alone as they made for the exit.

Just like that, the room went silent and the couple was gone. Leaving him with ruined pants and the musky smell of birth in his nostrils.

He scrolled through social media later that night. His feed was full of pictures and videos from the wedding. The most popular one, however, was a video of the couple in the parking lot of the hospital across the city. The woman had a baby in her arms, with her legs pulled back as doctors rushed from the entrance of the hospital to assist with the birth of her second that hung halfway out of her pussy. They were a healthy 9 and 8 pounds. The couple posted pictures from inside the hospital with the last one being the twins sleeping soundly together.

thatdude159

Fox momma forced to push out her baby against gravity

italianbirthfetishboy

God i LOVE anime-like images about birth in which the mother is red for the pushing!

thatdude159

"Intimate unassisted birth"

This is a story written by someone on hidden-desires that I like and wanna preserve.

I TAKE ZERO CREDIT FOR THIS STORY, enjoy!

…

I let out a slow breath as the contraction passed, running my hands over my nine-month-pregnant, soon to be deflated stomach. Leaning back against the plush pillows of the bed, I let my legs fall apart, my heels connected in front of me with my hands coming to rest on my knees. “That one wasn’t too bad. I think I’m just getting used to them.” I tell my husband, Liam, smiling weakly. He chuckles a bit and squeezes my calf. “Yeah, you’ve only been at this for nearly ten hours now. I bet your body just thinks they’re like a hiccup or something. Want a back massage?” “A hiccup that feels like someone with an abnormally large hand is squeezing my uterus in their fist,” I correct with a little smile, then nodded gratefully. “That sounds great. Can you check me again too? I must have progressed some in the past hour.” “I think you just want to be fingered.” “Maybe that too.” Liam chuckled and leaned in, kissing my lips soundly. I decided before the pregnancy was even confirmed that I wanted a unassisted homebirth with Liam. Of course our midwife is on speed dial just in case, but all I want is to push this baby into Liam’s hands and share the moment only with him. I let him know early on that this was the route I was planning to take, and he has been more supportive than I could’ve ever dreamed, from providing for my midnight cravings to keeping me comfortable in labor far better than most husbands. I feel Liam’s hand trail up my inner thigh as his lips wander to my neck. I immediately melt under his touch as he spreads my lower lips with one hand and massages my clitoris with two fingers of the other. Truthfully, I had just wanted him to check my cervix, but in no way am I complaining. My stomach visibly tightens with the beginning of a contraction and Liam stops his teasing, instead resting his hands on my thighs. I quickly shake my head. “No, no. Don’t you dare stop.” Liam quickly returns to my pussy, running his fingers over my slick lips, teasing me. The contraction builds and I find some relief in rolling my hips, increasing the friction of his fingers against my most sensitive area. “Fuck!” I find myself groaning, both out of pleasure and pain from the pressure in my abdomen. The contraction soon ebbs, but Liam’s fingers continue to stroke and massage me. I feel myself coming apart as he gently squeezes my clit between his thumb and forefinger. Arching my back, I clench my muscles and buck my hips involuntarily as my orgasm erupts within me. I fall back against the bed, breathing heavily. “That was quick.” Liam chuckles as I try to get my breathing under control. “You have very talented fingers,” I smirk and brush some hair out of my face. “Now really, check me, please.” I softly gasp in discomfort as my husband gently slips two fingers into my overstimulated sex. His other hand pushes down on my full stomach with a bit of pressure, feeling the position of our baby. “You’re really opening, babe. Not much longer now.” “Ugh, can you give me a number? I’m getting a bit tired of this.” I feel myself whining but for good reason. Ten hours! Liam’s fingers move inside me. “I’d say about seven centimeters. How about that massage now?” I’m a little disappointed because I had been stuck at six centimeters for the past three hours. The contractions are so much closer now and I was hoping it was my body working overtime to help me dilate. Liam senses this and removes his fingers, gently patting my inner thigh. With a hint of a disappointed sigh, I maneuver myself out of bed and stand on the side of it, resting my upper body on my elbows, digging them into the soft bed comforter. Liam stands behind me and applies firm pressure to my lower back. I moan contentedly, but it’s cut short by another contraction. Breathing deeply and stiffening under Liam’s hands, I lean my head down on the bed and let out a low groan. Sensing my discomfort, Liam digs the heels of his hands into my lower back, the counter pressure feeling heavenly. He continues his pressure until the contraction ends and I let out a heavy breath. “Did that help any?” he asks, moving his hands to massage my shoulders and neck. “Yeah, it did,” I still feel uncomfortable, though, and pull off the t-shirt of Liam’s that’s the only article of clothing I’ve been wearing since a labored in the bath four hours ago. I pulled my hair into a bun on top of my head and am surprised by how much the small acts increased my comfort level even slightly. Liam continues massaging my lower back through a few more contractions, until I get tired of standing and decide I want back in bed. By this point, the contractions are getting more and more intense, my belly tightening and squeezing extremely uncomfortably with every one. They’re also coming more frequently, and I both welcome and am nervous at the thought that I will be pushing soon. I am resting on my knees with my hands pressing into the pillows of our bed. A contraction starts to build and I begin to rock my hips in circles, searching for relief from the pressure building in my pelvis. “That’s good, babe. Bring our baby down.” Liam is behind me, applying pressure to my back and soft kisses to my shoulder. During the height of the contraction, I feel the overwhelming urge to push. I’m surprised and know I shouldn’t, that I’m not dilated enough, but I bear down with a groan. “I’m pushing!” I announce. “Oh no, no, no!” Liam objects, his hand flying to my vagina and sliding two fingers in. “You’re not open enough, babe, and your water hasn’t even broken yet.” “Doesn’t matter! Gotta push!” The feeling is primal and I can’t stop it. I’m feeling so much pressure that I think I will die from the relief I get from pushing. The contraction ends but the pressure remains and I bite my lip, gripping the headboard of the bed. “You cannot push, honey. You’re not dilated enough and you’ll swell. You know this.” “I know that I’m feeling a lot of pressure right now and I need to push!” I insist through gritted teeth. The baby feels like a bowling ball deep in my hips. I know I’m not ready, but the pressure I feel is absolutely unbearable. Somewhere in my subconscious I’m telling myself not to push, but the pressure is impossibly strong. I change positions, lying on my back against the pillows and spreading my legs wide. Another contraction starts to build and I grip Liam’s arm, squeezing and primally growling, my eyes rolling back in my head. I have to push. I have to do it now. “Please, Liam. There’s no fucking way I cannot push. It’s coming.” “No.” he says simply. “It’s not your choice!” I’m gritting my teeth, everything in my power going towards not pushing. “Liam, please. The baby is coming.” I feel his fingers inside me and let out a low breath. “Liam, please, tell me I can push. Say something. I need to push! I need to push, really! I have to push!” I know I’m rambling, but I can’t express how badly my body wants to force this baby out. “Sweetie, we have a big baby in here and you’re only dilated to eight centimeters at most. If you want your unassisted birth, you cannot push.” All I feel is his fingers inside me and the insane pressure in my hips. Suddenly, I feel a gush of warm water shoot out of me, sighing as some of the pressure is relieved. “There goes the water.” Liam says, quickly going to our bathroom and grabbing a hand towel. He gently dries my thighs and sex, dries his hands, and situates the towel under my butt. “Feel any better?” “A bit. I could push though. There’s still a little bit of the urge.” “Well let’s wait a bit. I don’t want to risk anything.” I huff and roll onto my side, squeezing my knees together so I wouldn’t be tempted to push. Liam strokes my hip and presses a kiss to my head. “Not much longer now, love.” “Still too long.” Another contraction grips my abdomen and I grip Liam’s arm tightly. My face screws up into a clenched frown and I squeeze my thighs together, irrationally feeling that the baby would shoot out if not. Panting as it passes, I roll back onto my back and spread my knees, giving my husband a nonverbal cue to check my cervix. He slides a few fingers deeply into my vagina, kissing my knee in an attempt to soothe any discomfort. His face lights up as he moves deeper into me. “Our baby has so much hair.” Despite the discomfort, I smile weakly and then genuinely when he slides his fingers back out. He felt our baby in the flesh for the first time and I’ve never seen someone as excited. He kisses my lips and rests his forehead against mine, a sweet moment that turns sour soon with the arrival of another contraction. I breathe heavily, both hands on my rock hard stomach, biting my lip and praying that it will be over soon. The pressure returns and I resist the urge to bear down. “How far along was I?” I ask after the contraction passes, trying to regain control of my breathing. “Still around eight. I’ll let you know when you can start pushing, babe.” “I think I know when I should push, and that’s now.” “No.” I groan, “I can’t do this!” “You can, baby. You’re so fucking close,” he tells me, pressing a kiss into my belly. “You’ll be pushing in no time. Which reminds me, we should probably do one last stretching.” “Ooh, fun,” I say sarcastically. With it being our first baby and an unassisted birth, tearing has been a worry of ours. Over the course of the third trimester, per suggestion of our midwife, Liam has been stretching my vagina and perineum to prepare for delivery. It’s not the most comfortable process, but he’s gentle, and I know it’s helping me in the long run. Liam smirks and grabs the bottle of coconut oil that stays on our bedside table. Massaging some onto his fingers and nudging my knees open, he easily slides two fingers of both hands into my vagina. I suck in a breath of discomfort. “Sorry, beautiful. It’s your fault for being so tight.” he jokes, slowly and gently stretching my vaginal opening apart with his hands. He massages the oil into the skin of my perineum with his thumbs and pushes open my vaginal walls. To heighten my discomfort, another contraction arrives and I quickly snap my knees shut. “No, stay open. Relax and let everything stretch and soften.” Liam says as he nudges my knees apart again. He pushes two fingers deep inside me and probes at my cervix. “Liam, I’m so uncomfortable! Can’t you stretch my cervix around the head?” “I don’t want to risk anything, baby,” he insists, but continues to probe inside me. “I think with the next contraction the head will be passing through your cervix anyway. I can feel it poking out.” Although the news is good, I still feel an urge to push now, not with the next contraction. Liam continues prepping my opening and leans in for a kiss. “Really, not much longer now, babe. You’ve almost made it.” I mentally decide to push no matter what on my next contraction. There is a burning deep in my hips, and I know it’s my baby’s head pushing through my cervix. It’s painful, but I’m tired and ready to be done. The next contraction arrives and I bear down, groaning primally. “Go ahead and push, baby. Push my fingers out.” Liam is still probing around in my hole (He just loves it in there!) and I manage to grit, “I already am!” through my teeth. I feel incredible relief from pushing, but I don’t feel the baby move. The contraction passes but I continue to push, desperately wanting to progress. “Wait for the contraction to push. You don’t want to tire yourself out, sweetie.” Liam kisses my stomach and moves his fingers inside me. “If you’re feeling any burning, it’s because the head is pushing through your cervix.” I nod. “Almost there, alright?” He smiles at me and swipes his thumb over my clitoris. I gasp and playfully hit his chest. I settle my knees far apart, feeling the need to make room for a bowling ball coming out of me. Liam strokes my inner thighs as we await the next contraction. When it comes and builds, I nearly scream. The pressure to push is so intense and the burning in my hips so painful that I can’t react. After a moment, I bear down, subconsciously hearing Liam counting and feeling fingers inside me, presumably stretching my cervix around the head. The burning in my hips moves to my vagina and I throw my head back in pain. “The head is right inside you! You got it past your cervix!” The words don’t register; I just continue to push even though the contraction has faded, going against Liam’s earlier warning. The baby is slowly moving down my birth canal, and I feel its every move. “It’s right here, babe. Our baby is right inside you. Just a few more pushes and you’ll be able to see it.” That reminded me, “Get the mirror, please,” Liam ran to the bathroom and grabbed the small mirror we purchased specifically for this moment. He held it up. “Nothing to see yet, but trust me. He’s right inside you.” “He?” I chuckle lightly, then pant a bit, “And yeah, I know. Trust me. I can feel him. Or her,” A contraction started rippling through my stomach and I bore down again. Liam held up the mirror and I saw my labia remain tightly closed, but a telltale bulge was forming behind them. I held the push until the contraction ended and rested my hands on my stomach, trying to even my breathing. “Want to feel it?” I nod and reach my hands down, one parting my labia and one slowly inserting two fingers into my opening. I don’t have to go to far before I feel a hard, slimy mass inside me. I grin and let my fingers rest there as I feel another contraction. I bear down, simultaneously pushing my moist vaginal walls back around the head of my baby. The head is large and only moves slightly, but I’m proud of my progress. I bear down hard again after the contraction subsides. “Babe, just rest between contractions.” Liam suggests as I grunt and bear down hard. I breathe for a moment, but another contraction comes before I can truly rest. I push hard and start to feel burning again, this time much worse and in a different place than earlier. Liam holds the mirror up with one hand and gently parts my labia with the other. I feel the baby moving toward my opening but still can’t see. The contraction ends and I lean back against the pillows. “Beautiful, babe. This baby is coming down so fast. It’ll be crowning so soon.” “I don’t want it to crown. It burns enough already.” I whine and push some hair out of my face. The contractions are basically on top of one another, and I push again with the next one. Looking in the mirror, my labia are still tightly closed, but I can definitely feel my baby close to the opening. Liam parts my labia and I catch a glimpse of a dime-size amount of wet, black hair. He grins from ear to ear and uses his fingers to hold my lips open. “Look at that!” He says excitedly. “Look, babe!” I pant and let the push go, and the baby slides back up my birth canal slightly. I groan in frustration. “You knew that would happen, honey. Keep pushing and it’ll stay out.” I listen to his advice and start pushing again right as my next contraction arrives. There is a fire in my vagina and I scream out as I see the head part my folds. Liam rests the mirror against his leg, freeing his hands to help stretch me. I see more of the head poking out, but can’t see past my pain to be proud of it. I bear down hard and my opening takes a teardrop shape. The stretch makes me scream loudly. “God, please, no more!” I’m screaming and it’s unimaginable how I’ll get this whole baby out. I let go of the push but Liam holds my lips open and the baby stays right at my opening. There’s so much burning and pressure and I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Liam lovingly pats my thigh. “Push again when you’re ready, love.” I take a breath and push down, screeching as I feel the burning increase. I look down, not in the mirror but over my belly, and see my labia bulging out significantly. All I can do is bear down and scream as the head descends slowly. The baby is large; at our last midwife appointment we were told to expect at least a nine pounder, and I’m convinced the head alone weighs nine pounds at this point. I glance in the mirror at myself bulging and stretching and feel accomplished, but the baby isn’t even crowning yet and it’s already almost impossible for me to bear the pain. My uterus contracts and I push, my inflamed slit stretching the farthest yet. I don’t back down as the contraction ebbs, and I soon feel the excruciating pain of crowning. The top of the baby’s head wedges itself right between my lips, stretching them taut and wide. I feel spasms of pain zip through my whole body as I’m split apart, and I screech and quickly snap my legs shut, in turn pushing the baby back inside me. “No, no, no! Babe, no!” Liam nearly yells, frantically grabbing my knees and pushing them back open. I fight with him to keep them closed, to grant the baby no passage, but his strong arms force them open and push them back. He firmly keeps my thighs apart during my next contraction and push. “Splitting apart!” I insist as I push, fighting against my husband’s hands in a desperate attempt to squeeze my legs together and salvage my burning slit. I soon realize I am fighting a losing battle and give all my energy to bearing down, which leads to the even more painful full crown of the baby’s head. The head sits in my opening, out to the middle of the baby’s forehead. Liam quickly grabs the oil from the nightstand, lubricates his hands, and presses a hand on either side of the baby’s head. He rubs the oil on the tight skin of my vagina and applies counter pressure to my perineum. “Give me some small pushes, babe.” My legs are shaking from the pain and exertion as I grab behind my knees and give a small push with a small grunt. I do this for a while until the baby is out to its eyes, at which point I shriek and plead with Liam not to let me tear. “You’re not going to tear. I’m giving you some counter pressure on your perineum.” His hands are strong and warm against my perineum and it’s a bit soothing. He oils me again, and I’m so slick with oil that I’m convinced the baby will just slip out. Oil is dripping down from my labia into my ass. I push again and he places his other hand firmly against my upper vulva, resting right on my clit. My hips buck a bit at the contact. “Not now!” I whine. “Do you want to tear here?” He’s applying counter pressure as I push and I moan from the overstimulation. “I want this huge thing out of me.” “Then push.” His thumbs carefully push my labia back around the head and I moan in protest. Then I’m pushing and feeling the baby’s nose and mouth against my inner walls right before the entire head emerges. A rush of fluid splashes out behind the huge head and my body spasms in shock, my lips tightening around the baby’s neck. Liam reaches inside me to check for the cord, then guides my hand down to our baby’s head. I see in the mirror that the head is huge and covered in curly dark hair. I bring my other hand down and cup the head as I push to birth the shoulders and body. I give three hearty pushes to no avail. After the third, Liam brushes my hands away so he can grip the head and gently tug. The pressure in my hips is almost unbearable. “Stuck!” I cry out, wriggling my hips.. “Alright, big baby and small pelvis. We were expecting this.” Liam says, pushing a finger into me by the baby’s shoulder. I cry out as my hole is so sore, but I know that he desperately needs to get the baby out. He adjusts the baby slightly, removes his finger, and pushes my legs back by my feet. “Push. Hard,” He instructs me and I do as he says, anything to relieve the pressure in me. “Grab your ankles and pull back. We need you wide open.” I moan and obey, bearing down as hard as possible. Liam grips our baby’s head and pulls, really pulls, tugging the head back and forth to free the baby. I’m exhausted and in so much pain that my vision starts to fade out. “Please pull it out! PLEASE! Pull it out of me!” I hear myself begging and screaming but to no avail. “Liam, get this out, please!” He tugs hard, freeing a shoulder and then the second. I look in the mirror and see my vagina stretched obscenely around the baby’s stomach. I am still screaming and pleading with him to pull it out of me that I don’t realize when the entire baby slides out. My vagina is still spasming painfully and I’m rambling something like “Oh god, you pulled it out. You got it out of me. So much pain,” as he sets the baby on my chest. “Say hello to our little boy.”

imagineyourepregnant

This is the start.

The condition you have craved for your entire life could begin in the next few moments.

Your partner's enthusiastic, do they know you're trying to create life? Parhaps they know your deep desires, and the time is finally right. Perhaps they are completely unaware, and are simply enjoy the intense sentations of being bare within you. The ripples, the pressure, the soft squirt with each crescendo. Perhaps they don't know more than your face, a donor of convenience who fits the criteria you have for your baby. Not that you need to have all this agreed, but imagine what makes you wettest.

The deep strokes push on your cervix and bring you just a hint of pressure, a tiny glimpse at the sensation you seek. The rhythm is getting unsteady, and you are slick with pleasure and gripping then as tight as you can when they release their fertile gifts within you. Remember to wait for the seed to settle, you want your best chances of fertilization. Enjoy the bliss of the moment.

bumpsandpushes

Too Late to Reschedule

Summary: a pregnant midwife goes to assist a client in labour, goes into labour herself, and tries desperately to hide her own labour until she can leave.

Tags: birth denial, slight clothing birth, third person POV

Word Count: 5431

As one of the most successful midwives in her city, Dana’s schedule was always booked and she always had a lot of pregnancies to look after. One of the pregnancies she looked after most closely was her own, as she was almost due with her third, and she'd hoped to take on clients whose due dates were not close to hers. Unfortunately, her last client was very overdue and did not want to go in for an induction, leaving Dana no time to go on her maternity leave.

bumpsandpushes

what about public birth (one of my fav kinks tbh) or clothed birth with the partner on the phone? or the partner surprising you/reader by showing up when they thought they were gonna miss it? maybe birth denial to make sure partner makes it?

this is one of the blurbs i was excited to write and i'm glad i finally managed to finish it!!

Tags: (self) birth denial, fluff, unsafe driving (keep your eyes on the road!)

Word Count: 2061

The weekly team meeting usually has you staring at your phone under the table, but the busy agenda this week actually had you engaged in a very interesting discussion with your coworkers. Unfortunately, this means that you didn’t see all the missed calls and texts from your wife. Your very pregnant wife.

bumpsandpushes

I was reading your story about birthing in a college class (love it soooo much) and was wondering, would yoy do like a version of it where reader does leave the class, and makes it to the quad to give birth there, maybe trying to meet up with her partner instead of getting to a hospital?

ooh, I'd love to do a remix of that one, sounds like it could also satisfy a couple of other prompts I've received! This was probably your inspiration for asking but just in case you've never read it (or if someone else reading this hasn't), this sounds a lot like Overdue with No Extension by @bellyloveerotica, another fantastic fic!

(I've got a similar blurb that fulfills a lot of the same prompts that I'm going to post tomorrow but this is the superior one imo so I'm posting this first)

Tags: clothing birth, public birth, fluff (kinda)

Word Count: 1911

Your chemistry prof was the kind of hardass who didn't tolerate lateness, extensions, or anything else that would imply that you have an existence outside of his classroom. One example of these strict policies is that if a student walked in late or left early, he would stop lecturing and stare at them until they found a seat or walked out the door. Of course this drew the attention of every other student as well, though your more sympathetic classmates tended to fix their gaze down at their notes until the staredown ceased.

Now you had never asked about his policy about students going into labour in the middle of a lecture, but the suggestion that you had any priorities other than Chemistry 201 was unlikely to go over well. However, getting up in the middle of his teaching and stumbling your way to the door was probably going to be less disruptive than pushing out a baby during the lecture so you were going to have to take the risk of getting out of the lecture hall before it was too late.

bumpsandpushes

for a blurb maybe giving birth at a wedding? maybe the bride and a bridesmaid go into labor and try to gide it cause they dont want to ruin the day?

if these asks aren't from the same anon then that would be an extremely bizarre coincidence, but here's a little blurb based on the idea!

you've been hiding your pregnancy for the past nine months, somehow making it through regular life plus wedding preparations without anyone noticing. you and your now-husband wanted to get married before revealing the pregnancy, hoping to somehow convince your more conservative family members that you haven't been having sex premaritally.

unfortunately, scheduling errors and shutdowns meant that your wedding date kept getting pushed forward until your ninth month, and your flowy empire-waist wedding dress is barely hiding your round baby bump. you probably should have just revealed your pregnancy at some point, because no one will believe you conceived and somehow had a full-term baby during your honeymoon, but you're already in too deep so you've both been trying your best to hide it.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Untitled