Happy Sunday, bunnies! Hope y'all are having a lovely weekend so far. I just want to share a free-for-all story that hopefully y'all enjoy reading.
Status: Complete
Word count: 2,091 words
Summary: A woman gives birth in the back row of an economy cabin over international waters.
Warnings: MDNI. 18+ only. This fic contains explicit depictions of pregnancy, labor, and birth. Unassisted in-flight birth, graphic crowning and delivery, gushing fluids, concealed labor and birth in a public setting, a nursing infant, a husband who jerks off to his wife giving birth secretly in public. All characters and scenes are purely fictional. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
"Ma'am, can I get you anything? A pillow, some water?"
The flight attendant — young, neat ponytail, name tag that said Cara — was already reaching for the overhead compartment before Reggie could answer, and Reggie kept her face as composed as she could manage, which was getting harder by the minute.
"Water would be great, thank you," she said, and her voice only caught slightly on the last word because the contraction that had been building for the last thirty seconds chose that exact moment to crest, rolling through her lower back and down into her pelvis with a deep, grinding force that made her press her thighs together under the blanket.
Cara set the cup on the tray and moved on down the aisle without a second glance, and Reggie let out the breath she'd been holding in a long, controlled stream. "Hoo... hoo hoo... hhhh."
"How far apart now?" Dax asked from the aisle seat beside her, not looking up from his phone.
"A minute forty," she said through her teeth. "Maybe less."
He set the phone face-down on his thigh and turned to look at her then, and she knew that look. She'd known it for twenty years, had catalogued every version of it, and this particular version had nothing to do with worry.
His eyes moved from her face down to the enormous, low-hanging globe of her belly, round and gravid and pressing heavily into her lap even with her knees drawn up as far as the seat would allow, and something in his expression settled into that private, focused attention that made her want to hit him and also made her stomach flip despite everything.
"You're fine," he said.
"I know I'm fine," Reggie said. "I'm just telling you how close I am."
Three rows ahead of them, their older three were out cold in a heap of travel pillows, the eldest with her mouth open and her neck at an angle that was going to hurt later. Nobody back here was awake.
The nearest passengers were a row up on the opposite side, both wearing noise-canceling headphones, completely sealed off from the world. The back of the cabin was dim and close and, for the moment, theirs.
“I knew we shouldn’t have flown to see your mother.” Reggie said bitterly through another tightening.
Theo stirred against her side and she guided him back to her breast without thinking about it, and he latched and settled immediately, his fat fist curling against her with the total confidence of someone who had never once in his eleven months worried about anything.
"Get the leggings down," Dax said with a wry smile.
Reggie stared at him. "We are in economy, lest you forget."
"And you are about to have a baby in economy," he said so calmly, it’s getting into her nerves, "so get the leggings down and keep the blanket over your lap, and nobody is going to see anything."
She hated that he was right.
She hated it with a specific, well-worn bitterness that had been accumulating since the seventh month when he'd first floated this whole scenario as though it were perfectly reasonable, but hating it didn't change the fact that not only their fifth baby currently lodged in her pelvis had a non-negotiable opinion about its arrival but she also deep inside love this whole idea.
She worked the leggings and her underwear down her thighs in the cramped space, shifting her hips, and got them free of one ankle and bunched around the other before she pulled the blanket back over herself.
She pressed her palm between her thighs and felt the swollen, taut heat of herself, her labia already full, bulging and aching, the baby's head bearing down so far into the birth canal that even the light pressure of her own hand sent a sharp wave of sensation flooding up through her core.
"It's right there," she said, and her voice had gone very low. "Dax. The head is about to come…hoooo–hooo hooo hoooo–”
He reached over and lifted the edge of the blanket just long enough to look, and she watched his jaw tighten in a way that had nothing to do with alarm.
"Yeah," he said, and let the blanket fall back. "It is." He grabbed his own blanket and set it over his thighs, too, trying to cover is growing bulge there, too.
The next contraction didn't give her a warning.
It arrived hard and low, seizing her from the base of her spine and driving straight down with a force that shoved the baby’s fat head forward against her hand, and she crammed her face into Dax's upper arm and bit down on the sound that tore up her throat.
"MMMPHH — nnHH — oh god —hooooooooo–hooo hooo hoooo–" She ground her teeth into his sleeve, her fingers pressing desperately against her vulva, feeling the head surge against them with every pulse of the contraction. Her perineum burned, already stretching, the whole front wall of her vagina pushing outward. "HhhhNNGH — Dax, it's pushing through, I can feel it pushing —"
"Don't fight it," he said, low in her ear.
"I'm trying to slow it down, if I just —" She shifted her hips and immediately regretted it because the movement brought the baby down another fraction and the pressure from her movement and the toddler she was carrying went from enormous to total. "HHMMPHH — okay, okay —hoooo hoooo hooooooo—"
"Stop trying to slow it down, Reggie."
"There are people on this plane," she hissed, lifting her face just long enough to say it.
"Half of them are asleep and the other half have their headphones in," he said, perfectly level.
She pressed her face back into his arm and bore down because her body had already made that decision, and she felt her labia spread around the advancing head, felt the deep hot stretch of her perineum pulling taut as the baby worked through her cervix and down through the last of the birth canal with the focused, patient insistence of a fifth child who had done this before.
"HhhhNNNGGH — MMPHHH —" The sounds came out in bursts against his sleeve, each one half-swallowed, pressed into the warm bulk of his arm. Her free hand fisted into the blanket. "It's coming through, I feel it coming through —"
"I know you do," he said, and his hand came up to press against the back of her neck, heavy and unhurried. His breathing had changed, she could hear it, the way it had gone slightly uneven, and she knew exactly what that meant.
"You are such an ass," she breathed into his arm.
"Head down," he said.
She put her head down on his arm.
Her palm cupped against herself felt the shift — the teardrop shape of the head pressing outward between her folds, small and firm and wet, pushing against the stretched ring of her labia with a force that made her clitoris ache from the inside out. The skin of her perineum was pulling to its absolute limit, and amniotic fluid was already leaking steadily over her fingers and soaking into her leggings beneath her.
"HHhhNNGH — MMMPHHHH —" She pushed into the next contraction, long and grinding, and felt the head advance another fraction and hold, lodged at its widest point with her labia stretched in a burning, stinging ring around the crown. "Ohhhh — MMPHHH — it burns, it burns so much —"
"Breathe through it," Dax said.
"Hoo hoo hoo — hhh — hoo hoo —" She panted through the worst of the stretch, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from the sheer searing heat of it, her fingers spread wide against her perineum to ease what pressure she could. Her vulva was swollen and flushed and stretched fully open around the baby's skull, the shape of the head clearly visible to her own touch, every ridge and curve of it pressing against the taut walls of her vagina as it inched forward.
Through it all, her toddler suckled and slept, milk-drunk, it seems, on her engorged breasts.
Down the aisle, Cara passed through again with a drinks trolley and Reggie felt her go past without looking up, face pressed into Dax's arm, the blanket pulled high, breathing in hard controlled bursts through her nose.
Cara paused.
"Is she alright?" she asked Dax, keeping her voice low.
"Migraine," Dax said, without missing a beat. "She gets them on long flights. She just needs to stay still and keep her eyes closed."
A brief pause, and then the trolley moved on.
Reggie would have laughed if there had been any breath left in her body to do it with, but another contraction rolled in on the heels of the last one and she pushed, hard, bearing down with everything she had left, and felt the head inch forward into a full crown — fully out, fully free, sitting heavy and wet and slick in her cupped hand with amniotic fluid running in a warm, gushing stream down her inner thighs and pooling in the leggings beneath her, catching on the hem of the blanket.
"HHNNNN — MMMPHHHH —" The sound tore out of her muffled and desperate, her whole body trembling, and she felt Dax's hand press harder against the back of her neck. "Haaaahh — haaaah — okay — okay, the head is out, Dax, the head is —"
"I know," he said. "Keep going." at this point, he looked around and brought a hand under his blanket to reach inside his sweatpants, giving his hard and leaking cock a few pumps.
She snorted at what he did but bit her lip and stroked her thumb over the wet hair plastered against the skull between her legs, feeling the baby shift and rotate under her fingers, the presenting shoulder turning into position.
She knew this feeling. She loved this feeling, even now, even here, pressed into the back row of an economy cabin thirty thousand feet over the Pacific with her husband's arm as the only thing keeping her from making a sound that would wake every sleeping passenger from here to the galley.
She genuinely, in her bones, loved this.
“Dax,” she whispered hoarsely, and he looked down on her, eyes glossed over, hand pumping himself as discreetly as he can.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Kiss me…”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned down and kissed his wife as he continued to pump himself, feeling his balls start to tighten a bit as they made out.
The next contraction built and she pushed into it, and the first shoulder eased through with a long, wet, squelching resistance that pulled a sharp, muffled cry from her throat.
"HHNN — MMPHHH — there — that's it —"
“Let me see, Reg.” He tells her and she sat back and slightly lifted the blanket just enough for him to see it.
“There you go—Mmmmpphhh—haaaaaah–hooo hooo hooo–”
One more push, shorter and decisive, and the second shoulder came free with a slick, gushing rush, and then the rest of the baby slid out into her waiting hands in a warm, wet flood of fluid and relief, trailing the last of the amniotic sac, and Reggie pulled her daughter up against her chest under the blanket and held her there, next to the nursing toddler.
Dax made a grunting sound as he came into the blanket draped over him.
“F–fuck yeah…”
Cara came back through with a stack of napkins six minutes later and stopped at their row again, looking at the blanket-covered situation with eyes that had gone rather wide.
"Oh my god," she said, keeping her voice very low. "Is that — did she just —"
"She did," Dax said, entirely unbothered.
Cara stood very still for a moment. Then she said, "I'm going to get the first aid kit and the senior attendant, and I'm going to need you to not move," and she was gone before Dax could answer.
Reggie looked at the babies on her, one toddler now milk-drunk and deeply asleep and the newborn just latching, her hair sticking to her forehead, her new daughter warm and breathing against her chest.
"You know she's going to file a report," Reggie said.
"Probably," Dax agreed.
Reggie looked down at the babies, then back up at her husband, and she laughed — short and exhausted and completely helpless, the sound muffled quickly against the top of her daughter's head.
"You are so lucky I actually love doing this," she said.
Dax's mouth curved, slow and satisfied. "I know," he said. “I can’t wait for us to do it again.”
-fin
------
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combination of two different prompts that i lost the asks for: ["I'm feeling a lot of pressure" and/or "I feel like it's about to fall out of me" featuring clit stim?] anon and ["I feel pressure!” + “My water broke!”] anon, this is for you guys 🖤
“Another?”
“Mmhmmmmph,” I groan, bracing myself on the rim of the tub as I bear down against the heavy mass shoving through the stretched tissue of my cervix. “God, it feels like it's right there.”
I recline on the bathroom floor, one hand wrapped around my knee to pull it up towards my chest as I lean against the cool porcelain of the tub. Riding out the tail end of a contraction, I curl over my taut, overdue belly, and grit my teeth as I strain, working to move the massive head into my birth canal. “fffffuck, there's so much pressureeee.”
“You're doing so good, baby,” you assure me, leaning in to press a kiss to my sweaty forehead. “You're making so much progress.”
I simply moan, rolling my head to the side as I take several deep breaths. After nearly an hour of pushing, I'm halfway inclined to assume that the baby is simply never coming out, and equally as terrified by the notion that it will. That it is. The next contraction steadily begins to build, turning my belly into a white hot vice grip as it cramps down around my spasming womb. “It's comingggg!” I shriek, feeling my cervix finally stretch around the head.
“It is!” you exclaim, reaching between my spread thighs to cup your hands around my bulging sex. “Keep pushing, baby. You're really opening up.”
“The pressure!”
You gently shush me, quietly commanding me to look at you as you brush the pad of your index finger over the hard nub of my throbbing clit. “I've got you,” you coo. “Keep focusing on me. There you go. Thaaaaat's it.”
I pant the end of the push away before immediately bearing down into another one, staring up at you with widened eyes as my hips instinctively roll forward to meet your touch. “Ohhhhh. Oh, God.”
“Better?”
“Much,” I gasp. “But there's still—hnnng, still s-so much pressure. Ooooh.”
"Use it, baby. Push for me. Let me worry about everything else.” You add a bit more pressure as you circle my clit, and my eyes flutter closed as I push down towards your touch, grinding my cunt against the palm of your hand. “You're getting so close.”
"Ohgodohgodoh—.” I cum with a choked off cry, and a significant portion of the pressure I'd been experiencing suddenly releases as my water breaks, fluid gushing out onto the floor between us. “Mmmm, there's the waters. It's coming! Holy fuck, its COMING.”
The lips of my slit begin to part, gaping open into a small ‘O’ as the head shoves its way down. My thighs shake and tremble violently as I push, throwing my head back with a shrill scream. “It's right thereeeee. Fuck, its gonna fall out of meee!”
“Breathe, baby,” you say sternly. “You need to slow down.”
I thrash my head from side to side in a steadfast, hard NO. “It BURNS.” My tissues are beginning to stretch, thin and red-hot to the touch. “Ohhh, get it out. Please get it out. The PRESSUREEEE.”
You press your fingertips into my clit, providing steady counter-pressure as the first glimpse of the baby's head begins to peak out from behind my slit. “I can see it,” you tell me, emotion shining in your voice. “You're doing such a good job, baby. Just keep using that pressure.”
My nails dig into the meat of my thigh as I pull it back, leaving crescent shaped marks embedded in the skin as I bear down hard. My other hand slips from the tub and flies down between my legs, guiding your fingers to a better spot on my clit as you hum approvingly. “Coming,” I mumble deliriously. “Coming. It's comin-oh, I'm gonna cum!”
And I do just that, pleasure washing over me from my head down to the tips of my toes. "Oh, God," I rasp, heaving to catch my breath. "It- ughhh- it's so low."
"I can see the top of the head." You beam as you press another kiss to my forehead, gently cradling my stretched out opening. "You're so close."
"But how close?" I ask, inhaling sharply as I gear up to push again.
You hesitate for a beat, eyeing the small, dime-sized patch of slimy wet hair visible between my parted lips and comparing it to the sheer mass of the head itself, bulging outwards from between my thighs. My outer labia are stretched from crease to crease, and my sex is swollen and inflamed. "Close," you finally say. "Ready to push again?"
I nod frantically as I bear down, a roar building up in my chest and throat. "Uuuuuurrrghhhhhh!" I push with every bit of my strength, skin burning bright red, and an unstoppable force (the pressure) meets a seemingly literal immovable object (the baby's head). "HHHHNNNNNGGGGGGG."
The urge strikes me suddenly, pulling a ragged gasp from my throat as I rock back and forth on my hands and knees. "I-I think it's... oh, it's time to push," I grunt, sliding one hand between my thighs to press against my cunt.
There's a slight bulge there, the force of the baby's head pushing through my canal causing my labia to swell outwards. I provide counter pressure as I groan through the tail end of the contraction, fighting against the urge to bear down.
"It's coming," I pant, trailing my fingers over my red hot labia. "You're coming, baby. I feel you c-comingggg." Not even 45 seconds had passed since my last contraction, but another pain had taken hold. Starting in my back and spreading around to the front of my belly, pulled low and heavy with the pressure of the pain, the iron band grips and seizes, shoving the baby down with such power that I have to shift my hips further open to make room.
"Oh god, oh god, oh- fuckkkk." I keep my hand firmly in place, all but holding the head back as it barreled through my cunt. The pressure is unlike anything I'd ever felt, tapping into the most primal side of me. Contraction on top of contraction, I tried to groan and not scream, though the urge, much like the urge to push, was becoming unbearable. "Mmmmmphhh, GOD."
I am finally overwhelmed by my instincts and I bear down, and the baby's head surges forward and begins to emerge as a small, wet teardrop pressing against my fingertips. "Nooo," I whine, half delirious with the pain. "No, no. Not yet." I couldn't give birth yet. I couldn't give birth alone.
I drop my head, resting my chin against my heaving chest. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I brace one hand on the edge of the bed and struggle to push myself up, keeping my hand firmly over my bulging hole. My efforts amount to nothing, however, when the action of shifting my hips pushes the baby down further into the birth canal. I cant hold it back any longer. I cry out in shock, and the cry turns into a scream as the head begins to crown.
"OHHHH, IT BURNS. FFFFFUCKKKK, BURNING." I land back down on my knees and give in to the pressure, fisting the hand that isnt supporting the head into the blankets as I push, and push hard. My labia, angry and red and burning, spread to accommodate the skull, and I let out another wild scream as they begin to sting. "Coming outttt. Gotta get it OUTTTT."
A hazy fear of tearing crosses my mind, but its gone with the next contraction. As my womb squeezes down around the baby, I throw my head back and wail, bringing the head to a half crown before it slides back in. "One more. Just... one more. Oh goddddd." I grunt and feel my labia stretch around the head, feeling impossibly tight for a few seconds, and then one hefty shove brings the baby to a full crown.
I struggle to catch my breath, stroking my fingers over its soft hair. "Almost," I whisper, half to my child, and half to myself. I inhale deeply and tighten my hold on the blankets as the next contraction builds, using it to anchor myself. "Almost, almost, alm-ohhhh, here. HEREEEE. ITS COMINGGGGG MMMMMMPFFFFF-FUCKKK!"
My words become an incoherent screech as I scream through the final stretch of the ring of fire, pushing until the baby's head pops free in a torrential gush of fluid. "Come on, baby," I grunt, feeling the presenting shoulder rotate and come free. "Here you are. Oh, here."
With one last tiny push, the second shoulder pops out, and the baby slides into my hands. I hadn't needed help after all.
Prompt: "It's coming *right now*. Either help me or get out of my way."
"Listen to me, baby. Listen. I know it hurts, but you cannot push right now. Do. Not. Push."
"Too late," I groan, half delirious with pain. "She's comingggg. I feel it coming out!" The head of our child was barreling through my birth canal, and I shriek as it slides past the tight and inflamed ring of my cervix. "ohmygod, its right there!"
"DON'T push–" you start to say, but your words are quickly drowned out by my frantic scream.
"Mmmhnnnng! Pushing!" I roar as I grab behind my knees, pulling my legs up as I bear down hard against the pressure in my pelvis. My knee knocks against the passenger side door of the car as my thighs fall open, trembling violently with the effort of my straining and the force of our daughter's head edging it's way out through my bulging sex. "Just fucking pull over!"
The baby was coming. The baby was coming right. fucking. now, location be damned. I claw at my leggings, pulling them down just enough to slide my hand under the waistband and settle my palm over my cunt. My lips shove outwards as I push with the steady crest of my contractions, a trickle of fluid oozing out from my slit.
I slide my fingers into my sex and find the membrane of the amniotic sac. It pops with a gush, and the baby's head finally descends fully into the space behind my gaping hole.
"We're almost there, baby. Just hold on. Hold it back!"
I grit my teeth and snarl as I thrash in my seat. "She's coming NOW," I howl. My pussy lips are throbbing, stretching with white-hot intensity as the first brush of our daughter's sticky wet hair pushes against my probing finger tips. "You don't have to help me, but you're not... holyfuckkk, you're not going to stop me!" I throw my head back and scream until my throat is raw, bearing down around the crown of the head as it peak-a-boos between my lips.
"I can't stopppp," I gasp frantically, completely sweapt up in the frenzy of my pushing. "She's coming, ooooh, here she comessss. Coming OUTTTT!"
Say what you will about being a phone sex operator, but you definitely can’t call it boring.
All manner of voices find their way to you; some shy and unsure, while others can be abrasive and demanding. Hell, half of the time you barely have to do or say a damn thing while harsh panting emanates from your headphones as the person on the other end clearly only needs to know you’re listening in order to get off. There are times, though, when you find yourself engaging in specific fantasies of your callers, and those are often the most unique ones of all.
For example, tonight’s caller.
“Ooh, that one sounded like it hurt,” you purr, listening intently as the woman on the other end pants and breathes in a specifically measured way. She had called in ten minutes ago, her voice hushed and thick with anticipation, and you’d listened attentively as she explained the premise of her call: she was in labor. It isn’t the strangest thing you’ve had to play along with by far, and as the minutes tick by and her ‘contractions’ grow stronger, you inwardly find yourself much more aroused by this than you would’ve thought.
“Mnhh, they’re getting so much stronger now…” she breathes in confirmation, which earns a sound from you that is both sympathetic and teasing.
“Tell me how it feels,” you prompt, reclining back in your chair. Your fingertips trace lazily at your waistline as you do so, silently debating whether to slip further downward. Not yet, you decide. “I want to know everything, sweetheart.” There’s a faint click on the other end, perhaps the sound of your caller’s throat as she swallows hard.
“The pressure is…i-it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before,” the woman murmurs, her voice slightly strained as she fights to speak through what you assume is another one. “I can f-feel the baby moving downwards, little by little…my body’s been opening up for it all day, so it won’t be long until—!” Her sentence abruptly halts, and your eyes widen slightly as you hear what sounds like a faint splashing sound, liquid hitting another surface, the floor perhaps?
Whoever this caller is, she’s really committed to this fantasy, and you’re all too happy to be along for the ride, however odd it may be.
“Oh, sweetheart,” you croon once you’ve gathered yourself again, immersing yourself into her strange roleplay. “Did your water just break?” It takes a second for her to answer you, and for the briefest moment you wonder if the call has dropped. Her voice returns a second later, though, accompanied by that same anticipatory tremor she had when the call first began.
“There’s…fuck, there’s so much of it,” she whispers, grunting softly as she makes herself comfortable, or so you assume. “I-it just keeps coming…the bottom half of my dress is soaked through.”
“Well that won’t do,” you tsk, idly slipping a hand down the front of your pants as you tend to the budding arousal your caller has stoked in you. “It sounds like you’d better take it off, right…?” You draw out the last word seductively, and the effect is instantaneous. She whimpers into your ear before you hear the rustle of fabric, and you imagine what must be happening; her hands shaking slightly as she grasps the hem of her dress, pulling the drenched garment up and off of herself. You shiver slightly as you envision what her pregnant body might look like, before reminding yourself that this is purely roleplay, and you should keep it moving along. “Good girl. Now the rest of it, unless…?”
“T-there isn’t anything else,” she murmurs, almost coyly, and this elicits a pleased sound from you. Your hand works steadily between your legs as you listen to her heavy breaths, no doubt another of her ‘contractions’, and you’re surprised at how much this is actually turning you on. This job certainly has been a journey of self discovery, if nothing else.
“O-ohh—!” This time her voice is laced with urgency, and part of you wonders if she’s actually in pain. But that’s ridiculous, you reason to yourself; if this woman was actually in active labor, there’s no way she would be still on the line with you. No, you tell yourself as you listen to her moaning and panting, she’s just very good at this.
“Sounds like there isn’t much time left,” you purr, and the moan this earns makes a pleased smirk spread across your face. “Am I right, sweetheart? Is it time for my good girl to start pushing?”
“M-mngh, yes…!” she whimpers, and you hear more rustling as she repositions herself. Your mind conjures images of what your caller might look like, sitting naked against the headboard of her bed, legs spread to make room for her swollen belly. You swear under your breath as the image urges your fingers to move faster, but if she hears you she says nothing of it.
“C’mon then, pretty girl,” you urge, curious to see how far she wants to take her fantasy. “Push for me, let me hear it…”
Her response isn’t verbal, but it’s very much audible. A deep, almost primal grunting as she seems to bear down, straining until eventually letting up with a gasp for air. “Coming, it’s c-coming…” she pants, and you absently lick your lips before responding.
“Mm, what a productive push that must’ve been…give me another,” you order, your pulse racing as you hear her obey almost too eagerly. “Again,” you urge when she lets up, reveling in how much she’s become utterly lost in her fantasy. “Again…”
You have no idea how long this call has gone on for, but that doesn’t bother you in the slightest. All you know is that she’s enjoying herself just as much as you are; moans seamlessly intertwining with her cries of mock pain. Until at last, her voice rings out again, seeming to reverberate through your headphones.
“O-ohhhfuck it’s right there—“
“Keep pushing, you’re close, I know you’re close…”
“F-fuck…mnnhhgh!!”
The sounds she makes are unlike anything you’ve heard before, and as you feel yourself reaching your own peak you make a note to thank her for this strange new kink she’s helped you to unlock. Her last moan is a desperate, guttural scream, and there’s a soft muffled sound that must be her slumping back against the headboard. Before you can say a word, though, you hear something else on the other end, something peeking through your caller’s exhausted, labored breaths.
Something that sounds an awful lot like wailing.
“H-haahhh…thank you…for all of your help,” the woman pants hotly, and you can faintly hear her cooing softly to something before the line disconnects, leaving you equal parts aroused and confused. You wonder, faintly, if this means you can technically add ‘midwife’ onto your strange, extensive resume.
Revisiting our characters from the Drive-Thru birth cos they were having WAY too much fun with that delivery. 28k words. Written with my co-writing hubby @cowboybassett
Content: simulated pregnancy and birth, married couple, sexual content, birth denial, fantasy indulgence.
Surprise
Stacey arranges a surprise for her husband. What will Carter think when he gets home from work to find her heavily, heavily pregnant… but she certainly wasn’t expecting when he left that morning?
It was a simple plan, but still, there were a few hurdles she had to jump to ensure everything went just perfectly. First was to arrange babysitting. Stacey and Carter had four children; two girls and two boys. Their youngest, Caleb, was nearly two years old, who had made a rather dramatic entrance into the world in a McDonald’s drive thru about 22 months ago. With four children, Stacey and Carter had very busy lives. It was rare they got any alone time these days, with football clubs, gymnastic class, not to mention the fact she was still breastfeeding the little one who was not so little anymore. Childcare for the evening was essential.
A “date night” she had called it. And technically, that would be true. A nice evening together just the two of them, just husband and wife, and not ‘mum’ and ‘dad’. So she had packed off their brood in the car earlier - they were going for a sleepover with their grandparents. When she got home, she couldn’t help but feel the house was a little empty. Even if the quiet was a blissful change.
Her husband knew she was planning a date night, a romantic evening for the two of them. What she hadn’t told him was the item she had bought online. One she had discovered in a very particular forum, something she very quickly ordered, and was oh so excited to try out.
The Pregnancy Pill
Ever wanted to know what it is like to be heavily pregnant and give birth? The Pregnancy Pill is a unique technological advancement that allows anyone with a uterus to fully experience the whole spectrum of pregnancy and birth. Simply download our app, connect to your individual pill, and choose your desired options. Rapid growth, large baby, multiple babies, long labour, short labour, posterior, breach… the possibilities are endless. And the best part - the special pill is 100% reusable. Once the baby (or final baby) is born, it will shrink back to the original pill size to be used all over again.
As someone who had given birth for real four times, you would think that Stacey and Carter would be done with pregnancy. However, their youngest’s sudden and unprecedentedly erotic birth in the drive-thru had brought to light previously undiscovered kinks for the married couple. It took a few weeks or months to recover from the ordeal, but then the confessions came out, late at night when the kids were asleep. Both Stacey and Carter admitting just how fucking arousing the whole experience had been. So when Stacey made the discovery of The Pregnancy Pill a couple of weeks ago, she knew what she wanted to do.
After the kids were at the grandparents, Stacey readied herself for tonight’s events. She had a long shower, shaved her legs and armpits, and afterwards put on her favourite maternity dress. The instructions were simple; connect the pill to the app on her phone, then, once connected insert the pill into the vagina. It took some negotiating to get her hand at the right angle, but Stacey soon completed her task. Next, the settings.
She scrolled through the app’s different options. It seemed to run in live time, meaning that you could alter or change the pregnancy and birth during the process. That could be fun. Stacey grinned, imagining what Carter would do if left in control of the app. She didn’t go through to the birth options just yet, she would save that for when her husband got home. Looking at the time, he would likely be getting home in the next hour. Excitement twirled and danced in her stomach. Or maybe it was already The Pill. She better progress this pregnancy if she was going to get her desired response from her husband.
There was a part of Stacey that was nervous about this pill, it wasn’t exactly from a reputable website. But her desires to play out all manner of unplanned or sensual births won out against any hesitation she might have had. As she scrolled through the pregnancy options, there were just so many, she settled on a tamer route for their first go.
One baby. 9lbs. Anterior positioning.
Pregnancy development: 30 mins to full term.
From the second she clicked ‘Accept’ on her choices, Stacey felt an immediate change in her body. A steady warmth erupted from her womb, spreading down her thighs and up her spine. She shifted on the bed, breathing a little more measured as the gentle cramping began, her womb slowly expanding around the developing ‘child’.
“Whoa… this… this is gonna be fun.” She chuckled to herself, her hand on her belly that was already forming the first signs of a bump.
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“Thank you.” Carter handed the cashier a twenty dollar bill, taking the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. They hadn’t been able to have a proper night alone in almost two years. Not that it was a large complaint of his, they both loved their children, and adored being parents. But to finally have a proper date night? Carter was prepared to make the most of it.
He left the shop, climbing into his car. It wasn’t far to get home, maybe thirty minutes at most. With a smile on his lips, he sent a quick text message to Stacey.
Carter: On my way home. Need me to stop and get anything?
Carter watched as his phone notified him that his wife had seen the message, a bubble with three dots blinking in and out as she typed up a response. It was simple, quick.
Stacey: Nope! Head on home love.
With a smile on his lips, he put the car in drive, and began to navigate home. The entire drive he wondered what the plan was. A movie? Nothing in the theaters interested him or Stacey at the moment, all ridiculous action movies or remakes of remakes. Maybe dinner out in town? That made sense, he didn’t want her to have to cook unless she wanted to. Even if she did cook, he would ensure she wasn’t alone in the kitchen. In the end, it didn’t matter what the plan was. All Carter cared about was a night, just them, together.
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What surprised Stacey most was the realism. As an experienced mother who’d gone through four pregnancies, she was well equipped to make the comparison. She expected the bump, that was a given, but the expansion and sensitivity of her breasts were an unforeseen bonus. Wearing her 1950’s style floral sundress, one of her favourite maternity outfits which had seen plenty of use with three of the four pregnancies happening during the height of summer, her bosom completely filled the larger cup size of the dress.
Beneath her swollen chest was a gravid and undeniable bump. Naturally her hands moved across its surface, tracing large circles around the full size of the globe that now sat heavy on her hips. That was another pleasant surprise and something which added to its realism - the weight in her hips and pelvis. It was exactly like when she was heavily pregnant with her children. Not to mention the feeling of movement from within, the kicks and shifting as the ‘baby’ grew in her womb. It was just so real.
Standing in front of the floor length mirror in their bedroom, Stacey looked in awe at her reflection. Within thirty minutes her regular body had ballooned into a maternal goddess, absolutely brimming with life. The relatively quick progress of the pregnancy meant she had to ride out the changes in her body. It wasn’t something she could pretend wasn’t happening, or to carry on as normal. The waves came in bursts, warm and sensual and almost pulsing, her womb expanding and muscles stretching to accommodate the growing foreign object. It wasn’t altogether painful, just a very strange sensation that was at times a little overwhelming. But now, now she was full term. The fact was undeniable.
The rounded shape of her bump beneath the dress was very obviously hanging low, more oval and sitting closer to her hips. Not only that but her movements had altered. The increased weight in her pelvis made her legs part and the waddle Carter was so fond of to return.
Carter. Shit. What was the time? He would be home soon. She had to move if she wanted to get the best possible reaction.
Slowly, and very carefully, Stacey made her way downstairs. She could feel each step seemed to grind the weight of the ‘baby’ deeper into her hips. She couldn’t help the laboured breathing, the occasional huff, as she moved.
Dinner was already in the oven, well the meat was. She still had to prepare the potatoes. Navigating the kitchen with a full pregnant belly, Stacey very easily slipped into the familiar routine. Stepping a little back from the counter so her bump could fit in the gap, cradling the underneath when she bent over to pick out a pot for the stove, swaying her hips side to side around the fullness in her pelvis when she stood to chop the potatoes.
The smell from their dinner soon filled the warm kitchen; the glazed brisket in the oven and the roast potatoes on a rolling boil on the hob. Stacey put on some music to fill the empty space, the lack of children making it too quiet for the mother’s ears. She set the table for their dinner, using their fancy placemats and cutlery they’d got as a wedding present but seldom used, lighting a couple of candles in the centre.
Time quickly passed, the afternoon sun turning the sky through the windows a glorious shade of amber and pink. Carter would no doubt be home soon. Stacey rubbed her giant belly, its size putting even the maternity shape of the dress to the test. She practically thrummed with excitement and anticipation for her husband to gaze upon her changed figure, to discover his surprise.
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The garage door closed behind him, the car already in park as Carter grabbed the flowers for Stacey. The steps to the mud room had to be carefully navigated, toys littering the floor. It always cheered him, the blatant evidence of their family life. The second the door opened, the most mouthwatering scent hit his nose. She really loved him.
”I’m home!” He called out, kicking off his shoes before walking further. “The grocery store didn’t have our wine, so I’ll make us some tea.”
“No worries, darling. I’m in the kitchen making us dinner.” Stacey called back innocently, keeping the excitement from showing too much in her voice.
The trek through the house was the same as always, though without the patter of little feet, it almost felt empty. Maybe their date night would be on the shorter side, if they both grew to miss their kids too much. He forced the thoughts aside with no small amount of will, and kept walking. Their home was simple, decorations on the wall weren’t for ambiance, they were memories. Their eldest, Nathan’s, first little league trophy along with a photo of him in his uniform.
McKenzie, their second born who was conceived far faster than either of them intended, had her own pictures up as well. She hated being in photos, and Carter distinctly recalled using velcro on her pants to keep her in place for her one year photoshoot. She was the artist of the family, and anytime she handed either of her parents a new drawing, Carter would frame it, and hang it on the wall.
Their third child, a girl who was the spitting image of her mother in all ways, was named Claire. At only four years old now, she was obsessed with her princess movies and would sing along as often as she could. He held no reservation that her overnight bag to her grandparents included at least three princess dresses and four tiaras. The family had a plan for a trip to Disney soon, and Carter couldn’t wait to see Claire’s eyes light up when she saw her favorite characters in the flesh.
Caleb, the youngest and easily their favorite story to whip out at dinner parties, had fewer photos on the walls. A small collage by the entryway to the kitchen had a picture of him as a newborn held in his mothers arms, a snapshot he’d taken mere moments after birth. Pictures from each month of his life covered the board, usually with another family member holding him. Carter smiled, as he recalled the memory of that drive thru.
”God, it smells good in here babe.” Carter rounded the corner. “Is there anything I can…”
He froze, mouth falling open but failing to formulate anything other than a dumbstruck exhale. Stacey was in the kitchen, cooking and looking as beautiful as ever, and yet… I’m dreaming, this is a dream. As his wife turned to stir potatoes, he got the full side profile. She was, pregnant?! No, that simply wasn’t possible. Not only had they both agreed that they’d wait till Caleb was older before discussing another baby, Carter was dead certain that she hadn’t been pregnant this morning.
”Did, I-is that a pillow?” He asked, his eyes conveying the confusion that his body radiated. It was a full twenty seconds before he was able to put together another sentence. “I guess these flowers are for two reasons now huh?” Carter approached, free hand going to her back while the other held the flowers before her. “You know if you just said you didn’t want to wait for the next baby, I would have been cooperative…”
Stacey couldn’t help but laugh. The sight of her husband’s jaw hitting the kitchen floor was exactly what she’d hoped. She could practically hear the cogs in his brain trying to make sense of the sight before him, knowing full well she was not pregnant when he left for work this morning. And yet there was a flash of doubt, in the grey flecks of his eyes, thinking for a millisecond that they might be expecting their fifth child and he’s just forgotten.
“A pillow?” She mused, her hands naturally resting on the top curve of her bump that pulled the fabric of her sundress tight over its surface. A grin pulled at her pink lips as she took the flowers from her husband, placed them on the kitchen counter, and took his hand in her own. She placed his palm on the firm dome of her belly over the fabric of her dress. “Does this feel like a pillow darling?” She smirked.
At that moment the ‘baby’ in her womb shifted, turning around and wedging its head in her pelvis and kicking up where Carter’s hand was resting. “Ooof-” Stacey winced but kept her wide grin and bright smile as she watched his eyes narrow in confusion.
Well, that felt oddly realistic. And Stacey's acting, pretending as if there was a baby and it was kicking…
”It, doesn’t.” He said, still horrendously confused. Both hands pressed against her womb, as if through touch he might figure out exactly how she was making him believe this. He kept exploring, finding the little nuances through the fabric that told him this was in fact, real. Questions stacked unimpeded in his mind, and with no chance of sorting them out alone, he just enjoyed it for the moment. The baby within was moving, and the look on his face reshaped into that same magical expression he had for every one of her pregnancies.
”How?” Carter asked, and without waiting for her to answer, his fingers clawed at her dress. Inch by inch, the fabric rose, till her fertile dome of flesh was exposed before him. A spike of warmth within him formed as memories of the last time he saw his wife like this entered his thoughts. “Stace?” His eyes rose to meet hers, an effort he hadn’t expected to be so difficult. “Baby what is this?”
Her lashes fluttered, her cheeks tinged pink as her husband clawed the dress up to reveal the full expanse of her stretched and full womb.
“Surprise.” She said simply, leaving it hanging in the air. It didn’t answer any of his burning questions, but they would get to that. For now she just relished the feel of Carter’s large hands of her bare skin, it was stretched and sensitive, exactly as it had been for every one of their pregnancies.
“I… I wanted to do something special for us, for our first evening alone in well… years.” She needed to say more, to explain, he didn’t even know this technology existed let alone the fact anyone with a computer could order the device for recreational use. But it was too complicated, too many words to bring him up to speed when all she wanted to know was—
“Do you like it?”
Carter didn’t answer at first. The father of four knelt before his wife, gently rubbing either side of her belly. The man was still awestruck, Stacey was pregnant, and yet, not pregnant. Every synapse in his mind fired simultaneously, trying desperately to come up with what to say. All he knew, or at least all his mind told him, was that that ‘baby’ in there was his, almost like whatever she’d done had triggered his protective and fatherly nature. Before either of them knew it, Carter leant in, placing a kiss on her swollen middle. The ‘child’ within kicked, and he grinned, the curl of his lips making his whiskers prickle along the newly sensitive skin.
“I don’t like it.” He said, though his eyes remained joyous. “I fuckin love it.” Carter rose, hands never leaving. In his mind he couldn’t stop thinking how this was exactly how he’d acted with all her previous pregnancies. Hands had to be on her. “This is incredible…”
Habitually, Stacey looped her arms around her husband’s neck, her body pressed against him as much as her new swollen belly would allow. “Hmmm… I’m glad you love it.” She purred, kissing him softly. Their lips parted, tongues entwined and danced together in a passionate, well-practiced routine.
“And the best part….” Stacey said, her breathing already heavier between the heated kisses. “…is that we can do this again and again….” She hummed “…so many settings to try… to play with….” Her teeth grazed his bottom lip while her fingers got lost in the salt and pepper locks of his hair.
Carter’s hands were all over her body, massaging and squeezing every inch, and then, all of a sudden he gripped her widened hips and lifted her up in the air. Stacey’s legs wrapped around his hips instinctively and she squealed in surprise. He popped her down on the top of the kitchen counter, standing between her spread legs. His eyes were dark and hungry and laser focused on the gravid bump prominent between them. Her dress had fallen over her bare skin but he soon pushed it up, as if he needed to see her exposed and stretched belly in order to fully comprehend what was happening.
“It’s called The Pregnancy Pill; a full simulated pregnancy controlled entirely via an app on my phone.” Stacey began to explain while Carter’s fingers roamed across her sensitive skin.
Carter listened, but all the information she gave was quickly shunned into the back of his mind. The surface was so taut, and he couldn’t help himself as he reacquainted himself with every square inch of her skin. Radiating beauty like she always did, despite it being an artificial pregnancy. Carter lent in, eyes fixating on the little ripples courtesy of the ‘baby’ within.
“So, it’s fake, but it’s real?” He asked her, feeling his body growing warm thanks to his sometimes distracting attraction to his wife. A hindrance in public to be sure, but one the couple always was able to rectify like first time lovers. In the privacy of their home? Carter made no attempt to conceal his lustful looks towards Stacey. “What did you set this one to?” The question came with a gentle pat on her stomach.
She giggled, from the look in his eyes she was hopeful about all the fun they would have with this little device.
“Just the one baby. A nine-pounder. And I can feel every ounce already in my hips.” Her words were breathless, both from the advanced pregnancy but also the arousal she felt coiling in her stomach. She shifted slightly on the counter, leaning back a fraction to feel the full depths of the large full term baby that was now curled up in her pelvis.
“I only selected the pregnancy settings, to make sure you came home to find me like this. My date night surprise. But I left the birth options for you…” An arched eyebrow, the pout of her lips, gave her husband all the confirmation he needed for her playfulness this evening.
“Oh is that so?” He asked, stepping closer. He felt her stomach pressing against his, a sensation he only now realized he’d missed so much. “Well, maybe we can wait to put those settings in…” Carter slid a hand around, finding the base of Stacey’s back. He leaned closer, planting another kiss. “I think this date night is going to be one to remember.” He whispered. Carter's eyes darted to the oven, the timer on it read just over ten minutes. Plenty of time for a little fun before dinner. “So, darling.” He began, his words a purr. “Did the pill cause your hormones to spike too?” As he asked the question, his grip on her lower back faltered, leaving only fingertips. His other hand however, had migrated, his knuckles brushing against her inner thighs.
Stacey shuddered. His hand was barely above her knee but the skin of her inner thigh was alive with sensitivity. “I dunno if it’s The Pill or… just the fact it’s been so long since we’ve had a night to ourselves.” Her breathing was heavy, which had nothing to do with the baby in her belly. “Oh Carter.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him close, her lips desperately colliding with his. Even with their advanced years, Carter still looked so handsome with a touch of ruggedness about him. The stubble on his strong jaw, the grey flecks in his brown hair, his large hands on her bare skin. The cologne he’d put on before work had faded and mixed with an intoxicating scent that was earthy and sexy and just him. Stacey moaned into his mouth, her tongue dancing around his with a passion she’d not felt in decades.
His hand on her lower back pressed up, arching her spine towards him and squishing the heavy orb of her belly between their bodies. They both made a gravelled sound of pleasure, the huge swollen pregnant belly igniting their new desires, discovered following the birth of their fourth child. She wanted him, she wanted to feel him against her when she was gravid and bursting with life. They’d of course been intimate throughout all their real pregnancies but with the other symptoms of carrying a child - the exhaustion, nausea, aches and pains - they never went truly wild. But now, well now she had only been pregnant about an hour. Her body felt heavy and swollen but in the best way - no aches or pains or tiredness. It was perfect.
His other hand travelled up her thigh, dancing dangerously close to the lace trim of her underwear. She grinned devilishly against his lips. “Careful now, you wouldn’t want to send me into labour would you?” Stacey whispered. As much as she wanted her husband right here and now, she didn’t want to peak too soon. Plus she couldn’t deny the call of the app and all the birth settings they’d yet to discover.
Her words made his hair stand up on end, a shuddering breath escaping him. “I don’t know if you want me to answer that question honey…”
Carter's fingers found her underwear, lifting them just enough to allow him to slip beneath. He tugged them, just enough to make sure Stacey knew what he was doing. His own pants grew uncomfortable as his body reacted to hers. The sight of his wife shuddering as his knuckles brushed against her lips made a devious smile appear on his face, a smile Stacey had not seen since that drive thru twenty two months ago.
“But…” He began, letting his fingers extend beneath the hidden fabric of her panties. “I could answer it.” Gingerly, his middle finger found her quivering opening, and with next to no pressure, slid up its center. “But I won’t answer with words my love.”
Stacey’s thighs twitched, her breath hitching, as her husband lightly traced the flesh beneath her underwear. “Oooohh… whoa…. C-Carter…” she moaned. Instinctively her legs drew together like magnets, trapping his hand between her thighs.
“Y-you know you c-can’t— oooooha— trigger labour this way.” She tried to speak, to tell him their usual methods to bring on contractions wouldn’t work for this simulated pregnancy. Only the app could control what happens.
Moving around and around, the pads of Carter’s fingers caressed her sensitive skin, pulling focus from the words she was trying to say. “W-we need— to select— the b-b-birth options darling—” But Stacey’s words cut off when her husband slipped two fingers inside of her and she nearly choked on the moan that rattled up her throat.
He pressed his lips against hers, as he did, he curled his fingers into a hook shape. Carter knew just how to work her when they were in the mood, and the desires being felt in the kitchen were feral. The need to have his wife at that moment overcame everything. Her belly made it difficult, but Carter adjusted, bringing the hand that was on her back around to her womb. The two fingers nestled within her kept their work going, even as he subconsciously rose to his toes, a motion that, if they were both dressed for the occasion, would have embedded his ever hardening erection into her.
“Stace…” He groaned, moving from her lips to her jawline and down to her neck. “How’s it feel?” As he asked, he curled his fingers again, the motion becoming repetitive.
Her body rocked on the counter, circling back and forth in time with his movements, his index and middle finger hitting the perfect spot. “Oh— a-amazing…” she hummed, biting her bottom lip.
The delicious pressure and weight in her womb was matched perfectly against her husband’s expert moves. He knew exactly what she liked, how to hold her, where to kiss her. Soon any thoughts of conversation were lost to the steady pulsing of pleasure building between her thighs. While Carter’s fingers worked their magic, his lips peppered her neck and chest with feverish kisses. He took extra time on the spot just below her jawline and earlobe, prompting an involuntary squeeze of her thighs around his hand.
The things he wanted to do to her on the counter… it would absolutely test the construction. Carter's attention became far more involved as their passion flared. Stacey’s squeezing thighs only inflamed his needs. Before he knew it, her hands were on him, lifting his shirt to touch his chest, manicured nails glide across his skin as she pulled him a bit closer. The jostling of his belt made an audible groan escape his throat. Stacey had managed to reach down, an impressive feat of flexibility considering her gravid size.
It wasn’t long before he felt freedom, his jeans no longer containing his desires. Carter's fingers retracted, and the delicious whimper Stacey made caused a spasm as his body reacted. There was a pause as the couple stared into each other's eyes, this moment of intimacy the beginning of a new chapter in their life. Keeping her gaze locked with his, Carter guided himself in, enjoying the delicious flutter her eyelids made as her body accepted his.
Stacey had forgotten just how eye-rollingly good pregnant sex was, especially heavily pregnant sex with a baby so low and heavy in her womb. The air left her lungs as Carter slowly sunk inside, the fullness, oh the fullness. It was almost overwhelming but in the best way. “Oh god!” She gasped, her nails clawing beneath his shirt to both bring him closer and keep her steady.
“Breathe” he whispered in her ear, foreshadowing words he would no doubt be saying to her in labour.
It took a few moments, a few deep breaths, for Stacey to settle and adjust to the intense pressures, to the fullness in her lower half. She was right on the edge of the counter now, her legs high and hooked around Carter’s hips, while her arms moved from his chest to drape over his shoulders and hang down his back. The swollen orb of life was squashed between them, only adding to their arousal. Carter began to move, slowly but with purpose, a gentle rhythm as his hips moved back and forth, back and forth. Each thrust seemed to hit deeper and deeper, each prompting low moans from Stacey, husky in his ear while she clung to him and kissed his neck.
The moment was electric, his hands holding her, their bodies pressed with such intimate closeness that he could feel every tremor. Stacey’s stomach shifted against his abdomen, and he had to consciously tell himself that it wasn’t a real baby in there, just a simulation. That didn’t stop his rising affection for her body though. Carters hand shot behind his wife. Palm down, he swiped it across the countertop, pushing away the ingredients she’d set aside for dinner. A ladle hit the ground with a thunk, but that was a non-issue.
His thrusts became more inspired, each one scooting Stacey back just a bit on the granite topped island. Knowing the counter was clear, he let his hand come back to her stomach. Unbeknownst to him, he’d found some discarded flour which now covered his palm, a white handprint on the side of her womb was the only evidence. One they wouldn’t notice till their moment of passion was at an end.
As Carter’s movements got more passionate, Stacey found her head tipping back, panting heavily towards the ceiling. Her dress was still bunched up between her enlarged chest and swollen bump, each thrust jossling her body making her breasts bounce. The feel of his hand was possessive on her belly, a shiver running up her spine, she loved how dominant and protective he got whenever she was pregnant.
“Ohhhh… I’m… getting close….” She whined, feeling her muscles coiling, tense and pulsing on the edge of release. “T-tell me… how much you love me like this… t-tell me how you want to see me g-give b-birth…”
“On your hands, nngh, and knees.” He groaned, his mind drawing a vivid image of how Stacey would deliver this pill baby. His climax was growing near, that warm sensation in his pelvis told him as much. “Wherever in the house you want…” Or wherever you can manage to waddle. Carter thought to himself. Watching her chest rise and fall to match his pace, he knew just how to get Stacey to fall from the cliff of her rising desire. He let go of her belly, sliding along her skin till he found her breast again. “All I know.” He said, his trembling voice unable to hide the fact that he was close. “Is I want you to push for me…”
The second his voice, gravelled and strained in her ear, mentioned ‘pushing’ it was game over for Stacey. With his fingers beneath her sun dress, squeezing her nipples while he thrust deep and uttered his own fantasy aloud, she couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp Stacey hurtled straight over the edge of pleasure, her inner walls clamped down tight around her husband. The orgasm rippled through every cell of her body, back arching and belly jutting against his, all the while her fluttering womanhood squeezed around his girth. She couldn’t help the high pitched moan of pleasure, calling out his name followed by a few expletives, riding the wave of the best high she’d felt in years.
Carter wasn’t able to hold back, Stacey’s body pulled his release out of him like a siphon. With how busy they’d been after the birth of their fourth child, nothing had been this passionate. Always they were tired, always occupied, but this date night permitted a primal exertion of their mutual sexual frustrations. His chest and stomach tightened as his body pulsed, spilling the seed that gave them both four perfect kids. Even now, he smiled at the thought of this ‘baby’ in her womb being another for the group. They remained there, panting, recovering from their sexual highs.
“Well.” He said, his voice hoarse. “That was, something.” Bloodflow began to return to its normal circulation as he reached up to cup Stacey’s cheek. “I will never not find you sexy baby.” Carter grinned, then helped her to rise up to a seated position. As he pulled out of her, her panties slipped back to their original position between her thighs, already darkening as remnants of their arousal leaked out. “Do we need to worry about that?” He asked her, tucking himself back into his own pants before helping her down off the counter. The way her hands instantly shot to her lower back brought the endearment back out instantly, and his palm joined hers to apply pressure.
“Hmmm? Oh, I’ll clean the surfaces later, don't worry.” Stacey mused with a smile, knowing their night was only beginning.
Now standing, the familiar weight of the baby dropped back into the bowl of her hips, pulling at her spine. Their love making had been passionate and thrilling, but her age and “pregnancy” made for a slower recovery. Her breathing was still a little heavy as her husband massaged the base of her spine. “Thanks darling, I’ve only been pregnant an hour and can already feel it in my hips and back. Baby is definitely a big one.”
Their post coital quietness was rudely interrupted by the dinging of the timer on the oven. “Oh… that’s dinner ready then. Assume you're hungry after all that exercise?” She said coyly.
“I am, and I can only imagine how hungry you are.” Carter grinned at her, then leant in to kiss her forehead. “Now, go sit down. You worked hard on dinner, I will serve.” He helped her to the table, pulling out a chair before retreating to the oven. All of it was ready, and Carter quickly made plates for them both. When he returned to sit beside her, he admired her body’s curves yet again. He knew her eyes were on him the entire time he worked in the kitchen, just as he stole glances at her.
“Bob appetite baby.” He said. “Don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.”
“Did you just say ‘bob appetite’? It’s bon appetit darling.” Stacey couldn’t help laughing at her husband’s faux par. “I was thinking the same thing actually. The father of my children, still devilishly handsome, who enjoys pregnancy as much as me. It’s probably why we have four kids already, though perhaps we didn’t fully understand why until Caleb’s birth.” She ran a delicate hand over the full curve of her bump affectionately, clearly enjoying its weight sitting over her thighs.
From his pocket, Carter pulled out Stacey’s phone. He’d seen it open on the counter, the app already loaded. Just out of her reach he scrolled, finding all the options. The lump in his throat threatened to come all the way out. There was no way they’d only do this once, so he wasn’t trapped on options.
As she began to eat her dinner, the brisket practically melting in her mouth, she saw Carter on his phone. Wait, no that was her phone. His grin told her immediately what he was looking at.
“So…. What do you think? The app is amazing isn’t it. All the different settings.” She was ravenous, speaking slightly with a mouth full of food, eager to eat but also eager to talk about what would be happening next on their date night. “I haven’t looked at any of the birth options yet though, I got a bit too sidetracked picking the pregnancy ones.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Stacey had taken a little peak at the labour and birth settings. From baby’s positioning, to events to trigger labour or water breaking, all the way to the length, intensity and sensations of the contractions - a painful to pleasurable scale. She didn’t need to spend long on the app to know how perfect it would be for them. After a quick glance she did swipe out of the settings, excited over the idea of Carter controlling the birth entirely, to not know what exactly would be happening added another thrilling layer to this whole experience.
“Found anything that takes your fancy?” Stacey asked, shovelling another forkful of dinner into her mouth. The tone so casual she could have simply been asking what he wanted to watch on the tv that evening.
“A few things.” He said, setting the phone down for a moment to combine his meat and potatoes onto a single fork spear. “I can’t believe they thought of all these. Baby they even have intensity slides for the ‘urge’ to push. Not the pushing itself, the urge.” While he wasn’t exactly the most tech savvy man, he did at least have a working understanding of phones. He tapped a few different options, scrolling idly as he experimented. Nothing was set in stone, and from what he could tell they could reset or even end the pregnancy at any moment should they decide to.
“Oooo, baby head size? Length, weight, hell there’s a twins option?” Carter smiled deviously at his wife. “We can save that one for later.” After another few bites, he went back to the labor options. The amniotic sac had numerous options for it, thickness, capacity, even how durable it was. Carter subtly, as if he were just scrolling down a shopping app, slid the capacity to add twenty percent. At first it seemed like nothing happened, but then he felt the table get nudged, and saw Stacey’s bump which had been less than an inch away from the edge was now pressed firmly into it. “I think we are going to get into trouble with this app.” He said with a laugh. “There’s no way we will be productive adults when alone if we have access to this.”
“Ooof… I felt that. What did you do?” Stacey grinned, she readjusted her position on the chair so her belly wasn’t quite as pressed against the table’s edge anymore.
“Ohhh nothing. Just wanted to give you more reason to waddle.” He winked at her, and continued to eat.
After Carter confessed to his impulsive fingers, Stacey could feel the excitement and thrill bubbling in her belly that had nothing to do with the ‘baby’ in there. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for things to get going, to have her husband quite literally throw her into labour. “You’re loving this already aren’t you?” She teased, her legs parting just a fraction beneath the table to accommodate the slight increase in her bump size from the additional amniotic fluid.
Throughout their dinner Carter continued to scroll and investigate the app’s full potential. Sometimes he would tell her what he’d found, other times he just gave her a lustful evil smirk. The look in his eyes alone was enough to make her thighs clench with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, both sets of knives and forks were placed together atop the empty plates.
Carter rose from the table, grabbing his and Stacey’s plates. They’d deal with all those later, or at least once things kicked off and even mundane tasks became highly entertaining. While in the kitchen, he pulled out her phone again, the button to trigger labor was so, so tempting, but the buildup? He couldn’t think of anything sweeter than his memories with Stacey as they waited for progress. Humming lightly, he let the app start some contractions, Braxton Hicks, strong, but nowhere near their peak ability. It was only a few second delay before he heard the humming Stacey made in response, and he felt that lust grow yet again.
“Feeling something honey?” He asked without looking, his tone indicative of his hand in her newfound situation. “Something like… little bits of pressure? Maybe the head nestling lower.”
“Ooooh….mmmmh….” Stacey sat back in her chair, both hands either side of her swollen belly that was suddenly very tight. She hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t noticed Carter taking the phone with him from the table. She was idly enjoying her simulated pregnancy and sipping her drink when her muscles began to clamp and squeeze.
“Hooooo… okay…. This feels… realer than I expected. Not too strong but… they're definitely something. My belly is so tight now.” Stacey shifted on her seat, her legs wide on the chair as she rocked and held her bump, feeling and noticing every little change. “Baby does feel lower now… did you… did you start labour already?”
She wouldn’t be annoyed if he had, she was just expecting a little warning perhaps. Not that she had any warning for any of her real pregnancies, but at least there had been subtle signs. This felt a bit abrupt. But she couldn’t say that was a bad thing.
“Kinda.” He turned around, leaning on the counter for a moment as he watched his wife hold her belly. “Just some practice. It’s been almost two years hon.” He pushed off, coming to her side. Carter placed the phone, screen up, in front of her. As he leaned in, he whispered to her. “But maybe we don’t need practice. Just… jump right in.” He tapped the contraction button, the real contraction button.
Stacey sucked in a breath, mouth falling open as the contraction gripped her. Carter had no idea how strong it actually was, but the way one hand white knuckled the table, and the other shot to her stomach, he imagined it was strong. Her fingers enclosed on her dress, scrunching it up in her palm. It was, quite something.
“Does that feel like old times?” He asked, planting a kiss on her head. “Baby wanting out and telling you as much?” The timer on the contraction was coming to a close, and even though he could extend it, that wasn’t what he wanted… yet. His palm found her rock hard womb, and rubbed wide circles. “Only ten more seconds love.”
“Mmmmmgh…. Hoooooo…” Stacey’s eyes had closed, already having to focus through the contraction, even though it was only the first one. There had barely been any sort of warning between Carter’s fingers pressing that button and the abrupt tightening of her belly. No light tensing, the echo of a contraction on the horizon like with a real pregnancy. No this almost jumped straight into the wave, as if she was already hours into labour. Her belly was a ball of iron beneath her dress, firm and tense, muscles squeezing inward and down. It was painful, but with Carter’s voice caressing her ears and his large hand possessive over her contracting womb, it was painful in the best way.
Stacey released a hummed moan as it peaked and ebbed away. Slowly opening her eyes to find Carter’s face oh so close to her own. “You… you’re gonna be insatiable with this…” she breathed heavily, recovering slowly. “That was damn strong for a first contraction. I have half a mind to take that phone off you.”
Stacey playfully tried to take her own phone back but Carter was too quick. Her swollen belly impeded her reach and it was gone before her fingers could swipe hold of it.
The quickly disappearing phone was followed up by a passionate planting of his lips on hers. Eyes gleaming with love and intent, Carter knelt before her, already knowing just how soon the next contraction would come. Handy that, being able to set progress and timing. Stacey of course wouldn’t know till it came, or till his eyes no doubt glinted with anticipation. He put his hands on her, her womb returned to its softer, round shape.
“I guess we need to decide what should happen tonight.” He said, as if she wasn’t actively having a ‘baby’. “Are we watching a movie?” Carter patted her bump again, he just couldn’t help himself. “Are we… going to the bedroom?” His fingers formed into a little claw, tips making circles as he rubbed. “Do we need to have a look at all your old maternity clothes?” So many thing, there were so many things he wanted to do with her, to her. His mind raced, and he just couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with her.
“First things first…. Help me up?” Stacey asked with a resigned giggle, knowing from experience she would struggle to stand unaided. “They’re too low already, think I want to move around a little.”
It was strange how easily they fell into routine; the way she moved, the way his hands never left her body, both Stacey and Carter slipping back into the familiar rhythm of pregnancy. They’d done this four times already so it was an easy shift. Carter hooked an arm around her waist, helping her to her feet. She had to pause once standing, the distinct movement within, of the baby dropping into her pelvis, caught her breath just a fraction.
“Ooof…. This feels familiar…” she muttered, one hand on the table while the other rubbed the side of her belly. At Carter’s raised eyebrow she further clarified. “Baby’s dropped, that contraction must have moved them down, I can feel that steady weight right…. Yup, definitely between my hips now.” Stacey could help but purr the last few words, knowing how much Carter would appreciate the information.
“Mm, must be a sign that things are gonna go quick.” He knew that they wouldn’t be, no way on Gods green earth was he going to have Stacey be rushed through both of their favorite part.
Even though it was date night, the mum-of-four couldn’t entirely switch off and the thought of the messy kitchen creeped into her mind. “Can I just tidy the kitchen first? I don’t want to have to do it later, plus I kinda want to be standing for a little bit at the moment.” She said honestly, a subtle circling of her hips as she got used to the ‘baby’s’ new low position.
“I suppose…” He said in mock disappointment. He too was going to be driven nuts if the kitchen was left a mess. Being proactive was important with kids, they’d learned the hard way with their first born, what gets put off till tomorrow gets stacked up with all of the other things they’d said they would do later. Thankfully Stacey’s mom had come and helped them to get their house back in order.
Carter helped her into the kitchen, hand never leaving the base of her spine. He’d gotten too used to her gait returning to normal, a situation rectified after her waddling led to their hips bumping into one another. It made him love her even more, getting to see all these little nuances again, her mannerisms that gradually increased in commodity through pregnancies. Before he let her do anything, he made her face him, and stared into her eyes yet again. He never was going to tire of doing that.
“You wash and I put away?” He asked. “I seem to remember this…” He rubbed her belly. “Always got in the way when you tried to put dishes in the cabinets.”
Stacey laughed, the action making both her bump and breasts jostle as she giggled. “Yes, the amount of times you man-handled me away from the cabinets because you thought I was going to - what was it, oh yes - going to squash them.”
Stacey was still fiercely independent, even when pregnant, and often (perhaps due to sheer stubbornness) she refused to allow her condition to affect her day to day activities. Carter however seemed to get fiercely protective, not overbearing but cautious and fussing. His whole world was his wife and children so Stacey understood, albeit had the potential to get annoyed.
“Fine, I’ll do the washing up and you can put everything away.” She rose on her tip toes, planting a kiss on the side of his face before twisting towards the sink. While she filled the basin with hot water Stacey felt Carter’s hands glide across her body, squeezing her hips before moving around to cradle the weight of her belly. His stubble grazed the back of her neck and shoulders, peppering kisses while he enjoyed feeling the weight of her womb.
“Mmm… Stop trying to distract me Carter— oh shit-!” Stacey gasped, her belly abruptly and harshly turning to stone once again. The second real contraction stole her breath away and she gripped the sink with a low moaning sound.
Even without the ability to see her stomach from his position, his hands felt it all. The weight he’d been holding was suddenly lessened as his wife’s body ticked another contraction off of the number before the baby would come. He quickly made sure she was supported, caressing her stomach with his hands as her hips swayed side to side against him. The rapidity of it was intoxicating, as was Stacey’s reaction to it. Carter found himself swaying with her, humming into her ear as kisses peppered her exposed skin. Nothing was said, until he felt her womb lower back into his palms, and her tensed body relaxed.
“Good girl.” He purred. “That was a rough one, is the level ok?” As much pleasure as he found in it, a nugget of concern remained. He didn’t want her to feel more than she wanted to.
“Mmmm… yeah… it’s okay….” She hummed a quiet response through the tail end of the contraction, her hips still swaying with Carter's, side to side. “I don’t mind their strength, it’s kinda fun, adds to the drama. They just come on much quicker than real contractions. Like I don’t have much time to brace for it.”
They were both discovering this pregnancy pill and its technology together. It was a proper simulated pregnancy, which so far was true, but there were bound to be slight differences to the real thing. For Stacey, during her previous labours, her body could feel when the next contraction was coming. Perhaps a sense or instinct, or perhaps they just ramped up with a bit more of a wave. But these, these crashed through her womb like a thunderclap, sudden and abrupt. It wasn’t bad, just different.
“You might need to be a little more hands on with these labours darling, than I usually allow.” Stacey said with a smirk. “If they continue like this with no warning, well, I won’t want to let you go in case one creeps up on us.”
“I won’t go anywhere honey.” Carter told her. “I haven’t missed a birth yet, and I won’t be missing any.” He rubbed her back, then looked her up and down assessing. “You sure you’re ok to do the dishes and clean? I can do them while you lean on the counter.” He knew better than to tell her to sit down, but maybe he could secure a little comfort for her by making her not need to lean and bend. A thought occurred, he could make it so she wasn’t able to do the dishes. Too many contractions too fast. Perhaps a little encouragement from the app was needed.
Carter removed her phone from his pocket, and placed it on the counter, screen unlocked and visible for her to see. He didn’t see a way to alter the contractions buildup, perhaps that was a more advanced setting that in their eagerness, the couple had overlooked. No matter, there will be plenty of time to experiment.
“Carter…What are you doing…?” Stacey’s eyes narrowed at the phone, glaring brightly beside the sink, her hands still resting on the counter’s edge. With joyous slow torment, Carter’s finger hovered over the screen. Then he kissed her, first her neck, then cheek, and in a moment of distraction she turned her head to the side and his lips landed on hers. She moaned pleasurably into his mouth and while her eyes closed… Carter tapped the screen.
The reaction of her body was instant; the scrunch of her eyes, the sharp inhale through her nose, her knuckles white gripping the sink while her hips twitched back against him. The contraction raged through her body like a storm, tight and unyielding and focused. With her muscles contracting she broke the kiss with a humming moan, bending forward into the twisting cramp, her ass pressing against his hips.
“Oooooohhhh…. Oh not f-fair…. Y-you barely g-gave me any t-time between those….” Stacey panted, instinctively shifting her weight side to side through her hips, her ass swaying against him while she rode out the contraction.
“I know.” His voice betrayed the devious smile playing on his lips. Carter let himself lean into her a bit, the pressure of their bodies pressing against one another yet again in such a short time left his chest fluttering. “But if I give you too much of a break Stace, you’ll forget how it feels.” And I can’t help that you’re so damn sexy like this. He left unsaid. “Cmon, you know the motions to ride it out.”
Carter gripped her hips, making her shifting weight far more exaggerated and sensual than was necessary. But, he knew Stacey in her state would still recognize his enjoyment. He pressed with his thumbs, hard, digging into the muscles of her lower back as his hips pressed against her rear. Unable to actually see her belly from this position, Carter was left to figure out when it ended based purely off of her breathing. Her shoulders had curved in ever so slightly as she braced, and for a moment he could have sworn her knees wanted to bend as well. Too soon for that love. The baby is going to take its time.
“I’ll give you five minutes.” He whispered after he’d seen her shoulders relax. “Five minutes, then we will see if the app is going to be gentle.”
Stacey released a long drawn out breath, lifting her head and straightening up after the contraction. Turning around with a feigned glare of annoyance, she playfully bumped her hip against his body and stepped away from the sink.
“For that, you can wash the dishes.” Her lips pulled tight, trying to keep from smirking.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Carter didn’t stop his grin, and recognized Stacey’s attempt to hide hers. He kissed her cheek and gently ushered her out of the way of the sink.
While Carter busied himself with the dishes, Stacey waddled around the kitchen island with her hands pressed into the base of her spine, arching her back and pushing out the full swell of her belly. Already she could feel the effects of the pregnancy in her muscles, the familiar straining and aching of carrying additional weight in the depths of her pelvis. But she adored the feeling, the changes of her body and the shifting of her centre of balance, of feeling just so… gravid. Even though she was in no way in control of this labour, the desire to move around and “help” the baby down was something unconscious and ancient. It didn’t matter that this was a simulated pregnancy or that the baby wasn’t real. Her instincts remained exactly as they had been for each of their four children.
“Are you gonna warn me when the next one is coming?” She asked, pausing to rub the side of her bump, her eyes drawn to her phone that Carter kept in close reach.
Carter sat the skillet to the side along with all the other dishes he’d done so far. Absently he shrugged.
“Maybe. Though if you remember hon, I did say five minutes.” He looked over his shoulder at her, the corner of his lip curling. “Hope you’ve been keeping count, cause otherwise it’s gonna be quite the surprise.” He had been keeping count, and knew that she was about to be hit with another contraction. Thirty, maybe forty seconds at most. “Next one if I remember right… is going to be a bit more intense.” Carter quickly scrubbed a plate, then turned to face his wife as he dried it with the towel. His eyes scanned her up and down, lingering on her stomach as if waiting for it to change in some way. The kitchen was silent save for the steady breathing of Stacey. A calm before the storm, one that was rapidly forming and about to break loose.
The glint in his eyes was intoxicating, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. Stacey kept her position behind the island, needing a barrier between them or she’d lose herself in those deep hues. The not-knowing was exhilarating, even more so because he knew. Carter knew when the contractions would hit, how strong they’d be, what he had chosen for the birth of this ‘baby’. And she loved every second he gazed at her with anticipation.
The only warning she had was the minute twitch of his lips but it wasn’t enough to steady herself before the contraction took hold. Stacey felt her stomach hardening beneath her dress, the muscles clamping together and pulling the weight inwards towards her spine. She gasped, clutching the bump automatically.
“Ahhh….ooooooohhhhh Cart—” she couldn’t get her words out, the air trapped in her lungs as her body suffered the intensity of the latest wave. He was right, it was stronger, oh so much stronger. All of the weight inside her womb was pressing down, being squeezed deeper into her hips and forcing her stance to widen. Stacey’s body buckled, curling over the globe of her belly and grabbing the nearest thing in reach to hold on to - the edge of the kitchen island that served as a breakfast bar. Carter was over the other side at the sink, watching with rapped attention as his wife panted and bent forward.
“Ohhhhhhh… there’s pressure n-now….” Stacey moaned, a deeper sound than normal, evidence of just how low the baby had dropped. Her fingers gripped the surface’s edge while her knees began to dip. The boulder in her hips demanded more space and she could only oblige - lowering into a squat with a husky groan and disappearing out of Carter’s line of sight.
The unbothered saunter Carter did as he walked around to her side was calculated. His mind raced with what he wanted to try and what scenarios they’d dreamed of to play out. Left without a decision, Carter opted to simply experiment. He knelt by her, brushing her hanging hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
“Easy now hon. Pace yourself, you have no idea how long this might take.” He started to rub her back as he spoke. “Labor could be an hour, or, it might last until just before the kids are dropped off tomorrow.” Carter leant in, waiting for Stacey to raise her head. He kissed her, never tiring of the taste of her lips. “Can’t have you getting too exhausted.” That last contraction he was sure brought an urge to push, perhaps not one so intense that she needed to, but enough. Carter took her hands, and rose, letting his eyes linger on how she was forced to keep her feet apart now. The ‘baby’ was deep in her pelvis.
Stacey groaned as she stood, feeling every inch of the simulated pregnancy deep in the bowl of her hips. “Mmmmgh…. low…. feels so low….” Her words were breathy and almost musical in her constant soft humming.
Carter guided her hands to the counter, only for her to snatch one away to press into her back. Her intoxicating movements and sounds kept distracting him from, well, everything. In his pocket, the phone buzzed. As he pulled it out he saw a notification.
PLEASE SELECT WATER BREAKING PARAMETERS
“Think you can hold on till I finish the dishes?” He asked, all the while pressing the very specific setting he wished to trigger her waters. Orgasm. “I promise I’ll only have one or two more contractions come before I’m done… maybe.”
“Hmmm…sure….I’ll be f-fine….mmmmh….” Stacey hummed, pressing the heel of her palm firmly against the back of her right hip, needing any sort of counter pressure she could find. “Just be quick darling…. Oooohh…. Cos this feels just like it did with Claire…. Just before I hit transition.”
Keeping one hand on the counter and the other deep into her lower back, Stacey didn’t feel like she could even walk anymore. That last contraction had moved everything so low she daren’t step too far or move too much for fear of the ‘baby’ falling out. She knew it wasn’t possible, not only physically but also because the birth was 100% controlled via the app, but still that fear kept her feet planted on the floor.
Stacey focused on her breathing, relishing the gradual loss of control of her body. This was really happening, they were actually doing this, the weight and size of her belly attested to that fact. The next contraction came quick, mere minutes after the last, and just when she thought she’d made it through - another contraction started before the previous had even ended. She growled, leaning her elbows on the kitchen island and swinging her hips around the insane pressure between her legs.
“Ughhhhh…. Ohhhhhhhh—!” Her sounds were low, uncontrollable already. Her head was buried against her folded forearms, panting and moaning as everything dropped lower and lower and lower. The pressure was so real, undeniable and unrelenting, and getting more and more urgent by the minute. It was crazy how quick she had advanced; they were sitting eating dinner not long ago and already she was finding herself trying not to bear down.
“Nnnghh— ohhhhh Carter—” Stacey whined, rocking her hips back towards the dinner table, her weight fully forward against the kitchen island. “I— ohhhhh—I think I wanna pp— puuuush— mmmmmh….”
“Oh?” Carter was down to the last few dishes, the app sitting nearby telling him exactly what his wife was feeling. “Pushing is pointless Stace, but if it makes you feel better.” With no ceremony, he wiped his fingers with a towel and tapped the phone screen. On cue, he heard Stacey’s whine. Just for the fun of it, he’d ramped up the contraction, making the ‘baby’ demand progress while actually preventing her from making any.
When he’d turned to face her, Stacey’s breathing was rapid, her knuckles white as she put a death grip on the countertop.
“You pushing honey?”
His only answer from her was a low humming groan of primal instinct. Carter kept cleaning, wiping the final dishes before the contraction had ended. At a glance, the app said it would go for another full minute. To offer her a reprieve, Carter ended the contraction, stuffing the phone into his pocket once more.
“Ooooh—fuck—” Stacey eventually uttered, the contraction releasing enough to be able to speak. Her body was flushed, each pore overheating and over sensitive. Slowly lifting her head, breathing heavily, she glanced at her husband. He was still innocently drying the dishes, a false halo practically sitting above his head, but that smirk... She wanted to be mad, but the whole situation was too damn enticing.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting to be pushing in the kitchen.” She stated plainly, her breathing still laboured, still recovering. Her hands moved, reluctantly letting go of the kitchen island and dropped down to cradle the weight attached to her hips. She would never get tired of this.
Carter was putting away the final items, reaching up to the top cabinet easily. Stacey waddled over, staying close to the countertop just in case she needed something to grab hold of. “Is that what you wanted…. to see me start to push right here in our kitchen? Where we make breakfast every morning, have dinner with the children every night, so you’re reminded every day of the sight of your wife in heavy labour?” Her voice dripped with seduction, her fingers dancing up the sides of his waist across his shirt until they reached his arms and shoulders and she wrapped her hands behind his neck.
“Hmmm.” Carter wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands fall to her bum before eventually resting on her hips. “I won’t lie.” He started. “Having an image in my head of you pushing in every room in our house isn’t a bad thing.” Carter grinned at her, especially as he felt the artificial kicks coming from her stomach. He made a mental note to investigate if they could make the baby more ‘active’. “Pushing in the kitchen, holding back in the pool, moaning while in the shower.” Every square foot of their home being the site of a birth wasn’t unappealing.
The couple remained in the kitchen a while, Carter using her swaying hips to form an impromptu little dance. The moment made him think about their prom, all those years ago. He recalled Stacey with vivid clarity. Hair up in a braid he to this day couldn’t have figured out how to do, and a beautiful dress. Years had only made Stacey more gorgeous in his eyes.
“We got a lotta real estate in here Stace.” He said, doing another rotation with her. “So where, oh where, do you think I need to see my perfect wife in heavy labor?” Carter's smirk turned devious. “I have a feeling, that your water might break soon…” He leaned in, kissing her, the heat of her breath making him shudder.
She hummed against his lips, from pleasure but also from the steady heavy weight in her pelvis. “Hmmm…. This house is so big, so many rooms to ‘christen’ with a birth.” She mused as they swayed, her fingers interlaced behind his neck, her body pressed against his as much as the belly would allow.
Out of their four children, their second and third had been born at home. McKenzie was delivered in their bedroom, while Claire arrived a little unexpectedly in the living room. “Well… the bedroom and living room has already seen me pushing, so perhaps let’s try some different lo—locations—oh!”
A sharp inhale hissed through her teeth, the next contraction coming on quick. Carter seemed just as surprised, perhaps their dancing and swaying had distracted him from the phone and timing the gaps between. Stacey’s knees immediately softened, her body pulling down while her hands gripped together behind his neck. “Unnnghhh…. Ohhhhhh Carter…..” she moaned against his chest, her knees pointing out as she dipped slightly. The bowling ball in her pelvis was pushing down, making her hips feel like they were being deliciously spread, widening for what was to come.
“Hoooooo— the pressure— so strong—already—” her staccato breaths punching each word. The urge to push was insatiable, tempting, desperate, but she panted through it. Inhaling her husband’s cologne she pressed her face against his torso, clinging onto him to keep herself from being dragged under with the urges to bear down.
“It’s different, isn’t it?” He asked. She didn’t answer, whether it was by choice or an inability to do so, he wasn’t sure. “No days of practice contractions, no slow build, just deep, intense cramps.” On cue, he felt even more of Stacey’s weight be placed on his neck. He let her, even allowing his own knees to bend ever so slightly as she tried to find the nonexistent comfortable position. “You’re doing amazing Stacey.”
When it finally ended, Carter altered his grip on her. He stood by her side, one hand around her waist while the other dug out her phone.
“C’mon, upsie daisy.” They walked, or in her case, waddled, towards the stairs. Just from the look in his wife’s eyes, Carter could see the regret. These stairs were the bane of her existence throughout all of her pregnancy with Caleb. More than once, he had made a makeshift bed on the couch for them both so that she didn’t have to climb. He was about to ask if the guest bedroom was preferable, but she looked so determined. That alone fueled Carter's next choice. His thumb tapped a series of buttons within the app.
URGE TO PUSH: maximum
DELAY: fifteen seconds
“What are you doing there?” Stacey questioned.
He shook off Stacey’s quizzical expression as well as the question. “Nothing. Let’s get you upstairs baby.”
Stacey gripped onto the handrails either side, looking up the Mount Olympus sized stair case, and groaned. “Stay close please, these stairs, I’m getting flashbacks.” She said over her shoulder, preparing for the journey.
The Pill was realistic that was for sure; each step up felt arduous and impossible, exactly how she’d felt during those last weeks of her fourth pregnancy. Each time she lifted a leg she could feel the baby sink into the bowl of her pelvis. It was technically her own doing, Stacey had chosen this ‘baby’s’ size and weight. In truth, she had glorified the heaviness and weight of pregnancy in her desire to re enact, forgetting just how difficult some tasks really were. Like stairs.
One, two, three, four steps. Carter was close behind, his hands secure and reassuring on her hips. Then it happened. The strongest contraction yet. Stacey didn’t even make a sound, so surprised by the abrupt clamping of her womb. Her muscles were an iron band around her middle squeezing tighter and tighter. Automatically she curled forward, towards the pain, and her hands slipped off the handrails and slapped onto the carpeted steps above.
“Ohhhhh fuck-!” She growled, lowering to her knees and spreading them wide across the stairs while her fingers clawed at the fibres on the higher step.
Any semblance of control was completely lost in this moment as the contraction squeezed everything down! There was no riding it out or panting through, the demand of her body was crystal clear - she had to push and she had to push now! Carter’s hands were holding her hips as she gave a deep and primal push, sinking back ever so slightly towards his face, instinct taking over. The pressure was dizzying, unstoppable, and she moaned with a little hint of joy at each involuntary surge of her body. She was pushing, half-way up the stairs, it was ridiculous but fucking amazing.
“Good girl.” He cooed. Carter allowed his hands to linger on her hips, giving her soothing pressure against the intense downward need of the ‘baby’. “That’s it, Stace, give in.” The view was stellar, one that no matter how many years they were together, he wouldn’t tire of. Carter climbed a step, gaining just enough height to allow his lips to plant a kiss at the base of her spine. The image of his wife pushing was far more arousing than he recalled, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching around, taking hold of her gravid body in his palms.
“This dress is too loose on you.” He said matter of factly. “How can we tell how much progress you’re making when there’s so much fabric in the way?”
She couldn’t answer, the contraction was still at its peak, and wouldn’t fall for at least another minute. With a grin, he started to lift her dress. Stacey remained mostly covered, but his fingers found her bare flesh. Knuckles brushed against her inner thigh as he kept whispering sweet nothings, all the while her thighs quivered from the combination of his touch and the laborious task of pushing. The phone in his pocket buzzed, and he knew the contraction just hit its most intense point. With that in mind, he let his hand creep higher.
“Can you describe it?”
Stacey opened her mouth to speak but only a lowing grunt escaped. It was as essential as breathing - the act of pushing - completely and utterly unstoppable. She marvelled at its strength, at her loss of control, the way her limbs and muscles worked in sync without any instruction from her mind.
In the tiny gaps between pushes, she inhaled, gasping, and managed to say “…pressure...low… nnnghhh…full…” Attempting to find the words to explain to her husband what exactly she was feeling.
Carter’s hands were soft and delicate between her trembling thighs, but it was too gentle against the raging storm of the contraction and the pressure moving through her body. “Push….” She gasped a request, but Carter misunderstood.
“Yes darling, you are pushing, pushing so beautifully for me.” He purred over her shoulder.
“No— ughhhhh— push against me—p-please— h-hold me—nnnnnnghhh!!!!! Can’t stop—” Stacey panted, rocking her hips forward and back with each surging push. She was desperate for counter pressure, for stability, kneeling wide and fragile half way up the stairs. She needed something sturdy against her body while she fruitlessly pushed.
Carter rose, adjusting his position so that Stacey’s body would press against him whenever she leaned back. It wasn’t much, but he knew the exact pressure she was describing. He waited a moment, letting her rock forward and back twice before shifting his weight to meet her. Stacey backed into him, a gasp escaping her. The sound made it seem like she was surprised by the sudden intervention, even though she’d been asking him for it. Carter knew better, it was a sudden exhale of relief as her body finally had the much needed counter to her primal need.
“Only a little longer now.” He told her, leaning even harder against her hips. “Contractions coming to a close, unless I make it longer… of course.” Carter couldn’t help it, in all their fantasies they’d spoken of after Caleb was born, the idea of roleplay was at the forefront. Some darker and more taboo, while others were simply just fun. “Would you like that?” He asked her, running his fingertips across her back as a makeshift massage. “Need that pressure to last all night long?”
“Ohhhhhhh…. Yes…. No…. Dunno…. Oh god-!” Stacey breathed heavily, each word in sync with the gentle rocking motion and uncontrollable pushes.
The feel of Carter’s body against her, providing blissful counterpressure in the depths of her spine and hips, was the only thing Stacey could cling to through the peak of this contraction. Keeping her from spiralling into a pointless round of guttural pushes. The pressure in her pelvis stayed strong and exactly in the same spot - no moving down, no peaks and troughs, not an inch of progress made even with her involuntary pushing.
Mercifully the contraction began to ebb away. The contraction Carter had chosen, specifically selected, had added the overwhelming urge to push. She knew this from the smile in his voice, the way he purred over her shoulder, and the feeling of his arousal pressing against her back.
“E-enjoyed that, did y-you-?” Stacey asked as she tried to recover, still kneeling half way up the stairs.
“Almost as much as you did Stace…” Carter answered. “Don’t even try to deny how much you loved that.”
“As fun… oooooh… as that was, if the pressure stays like that all night, no breaks, well…. I’m not sure I’m moving from this spot til baby comes.”
Carters fingers lazily played through her hair, lifting it off of her neck to give Stacey a much needed cooling off. He wanted her to cool down, because from here, this night would only get hotter. A single finger traced down her spine, taking a certain level of pleasure at her reaction. His hips felt her press against him, her spine arching ever so slightly. This would be a perfect moment for another contraction. He thought to himself. But, he would be nice. For a few more minutes at least.
“You aren’t staying here.” He said, firmly. Giving birth on the stairs wasn’t going to happen, because these stairs won’t give her what is needed to truly start labor. “Now stand up, and waddle that beautiful body to our bathroom.” Carter lifted her, taking control of the situation. Each step took almost a minute, and he had to resist causing more contractions in the process. Sweet nothings continued to be whispered into her ear as she made progress.
“That’s my girl. Almost there.”
Stacey couldn’t help the huffing and puffing as they went up the stairs, her hands gripped on the rails even though her husband was holding her hips securely. Eventually they made it to the top and immediately she leaned against the wall, hands cupping beneath her belly, catching her breath back.
“R-remind me next time…. to better plan for heavy babies… and avoid stairs.” Stacey smiled through her accentuated exhales. She knew the next contraction would be coming soon, whatever break Carter had pre-set the intervals to would surely be coming to an end. Her body felt hot already, sweat dampening the back of her neck, as if she’d been labouring for hours and hours. The thrumming ache in the base of her spine coupled with her overheating reminded her of something she enjoyed with the labour for each of their children.
“Shower… I think I wanna get under the jets to help make these contractions a little less intense.” She said, pushing off the wall and waddling down the hallway towards their bedroom. The married couple had a large master bedroom complete with an en-suite that had a double occupancy waterfall shower head. And it was calling her name right now.
While she walked heavily through the house Stacey pulled at her dress. Her skin was too sensitive, too warm, and she was desperate to free her gravid body from the confines of the summer dress. She managed to pull the hem up above her bump but the fabric was tight at her waist and chest and the zip was behind her. She couldn’t reach, not with one hand continually cradling her swollen womb.
He was one step behind her the whole way. The sight was endearing as much as it was arousing to Carter. Throughout Stacey’s second, third, and fourth pregnancies, Carter kept himself next to or behind her. With their first baby he’d made the mistake of walking away and leaving her behind due to her waddling slowing her pace. She’d forgiven him of course, after he bribed her with ice cream and a foot massage.
The phone found its way into his palm, while his other hand reached out for her. Stacey’s dress was beginning to darken as a sheen of sweat soaked into the fabric. With the zipper pinched between his index and thumb, he leaned in close to her ear.
“A shower sounds perfect baby.” He told her, pulling the zipper down. Without the belly, the dress would have fallen to the floor with ease then and there. Instead, it crumpled, using the top of Stacey’s swell as a makeshift shelf. The image made him smile. “How about you lean on the bed? I’ll get the shower going for you.” Three quick taps of his thumb adjusted the settings for the next contraction.
Urge to Push
90% Intensity
45 second delay
“I’ll get you out of your dress first though.” He said as he confirmed the settings. Carter pulled the fabric up over her head, tossing the dress over into their laundry hamper. The phone went back to his pocket to free up his hands for some attention to her body. Smooth skin against his fingers, he leant to kiss her again. “Don’t have a baby while I’m gone.” He told her with a smirk, and walked away to turn on the shower.
“You’re the one in control here, not me…” Stacey muttered back with a returning grin.
She planted her hands deep into the mattress, leaning forward to let her belly hang and take the weight off her pelvis. The bump was tight and low, her popped belly button pointing towards the floor as she moved her hips in large pendulous circles. The Pill was immensely realistic, she felt so swollen and feminine and gravid, something she only felt right at the tail end of pregnancy. But now, since their fourth child’s unexpectedly erotic birth, now she could really enjoy it and indulge in the sensations.
Stacey hummed and rocked. The next contraction was surely on its way if the way Carter had looked at her was anything to go by. She daren’t take her hands off the bed, knowing by now just how quickly they came on.
Her instincts were proved right not even thirty seconds later - her uterus suddenly clenching in on itself and squeezingdown. “Ugggghhhhh…. Oooooooooh….” She tried to breathe her way through the abrupt shift, the fierce tightening, the increased pressure. Her feet moved wider on the carpet, her back curved as she fully braced against the edge of their large bed. Without her dress she was left in just her knickers, her sensitive bosom hanging towards the floor in tandem with her bump which had risen up with the contracting muscles, warping it into an iron boulder.
But no amount of panting and moaning was going to keep this contraction at bay. Whatever Carter had done on that damn phone was just as bad as the contraction on the stairs and she couldn’t help but bear down. A naturally low sound emanated from the depths of her chest, knees bending as her body pushed. She gave a long and primal push right into her bottom, nature and instinct guiding every hitch of her breath and squeezing of muscles. But unlike real labour, this push didn’t do anything. It didn’t relieve the pressure, it didn’t satisfy, it wasn’t “productive”. The baby remained right where it was, meaning the heavy boulder in her pelvis stayed in the same deliciously torturous position.
From the door to the bathroom, Carter gazed at her with poorly hidden lust. The angles were simply all perfect, the dim light peeking though the fabric of the curtains making her appear almost as an art piece. Her back was arched just right, her hips pushed back as if such a motion would ease the pressure. A part of him wanted to mess with the phone again, to make her be like this for hours. But, he refrained. He’d already done far too much to alter the already pre-set labor. All he needed right now was to spectate, and enjoy.
The contractions peak must’ve come on, because the shadow that fell across the floor towards him altered. Her knees bent, her gravid swell shrinking away from the carpet. That image alone was enough for him to grow aroused. Carter let her suffer alone for just a few moments longer, relishing that what happened next would cause everything to change.
“That’s it.” He purred. It hadn’t taken long to get the shower to temp, already steam was collecting on the glass surfaces closest to the bathroom door. “Sorry baby I couldn’t resist one more surprise contraction, just to set the mood.” Carter had stripped, a sensation his wife no doubt felt when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, leaning over to cradle her womb. Slowly, he helped her to rise, his interlaced fingers taking most of the weight from the baby off of her back.
“Mmmhm… you’re not sorry…” Stacey quipped, breathless from the contraction, but smiling. “You just like watching me trying not to push.”
They waddled together, the distance from the bed to the bathroom a practical marathon for a woman in the middle of labor. Carter knew how to distract her though. Without the phone he could change no settings, not that he desired to. His desire was for her, and he knew that she was already well aware. They halted at the entrance to the shower, the steam and stone giving it some sort of mystical ambiance. Gingerly, Carter let the weight of the artificial baby rest at its natural position, his hands tracing from bump, to navel, to breasts, and then retreating to her back.
“Hold the wall for a moment love.” He commanded, though his voice remained as endearing as always, simply with seduction added in. Lips pressed to the back of her neck, finding new territory the further down he crouched. As he kissed her body, his thumbs hooked her knickers, pulling them down as well until they fell to the floor. He planted one last kiss to the base of her spine, then rose, fingers trailing along flesh the whole way. “Perfect.” Was all he could say.
Despite the warm temperature in their en-suite, Stacey shivered. Her husband’s feather-like touch on her swollen and sensitive skin prompted a physical shudder of arousal. Her hands gripped the glass doorframe of the shower as she lifted each foot in turn, stepping a little ungainly out from her underwear leaving the small heap of lace and cotton on the tiled floor.
Stacey pressed on, stepping further into the large stone-tiled shower, knowing Carter would follow. Her wonderful husband would follow her anywhere, to the ends of the earth and back again, and with this rounded belly attached to her hips she knew he wasn’t going to be separated an inch from his beautiful wife. As the hot water fell from the ceiling onto her aching pregnant body, Stacey couldn’t help accentuating the moan of blissful relief - her muscles relaxing under the glorious heat.
“Ooooh…yes…. Oh that’s nice..” Stacey hummed, swaying a little to get every inch of her body beneath the hot waterfall. Her hands had found their way to her bump, cradling it subconsciously - protectively, but also lifting it as she circled her hips. She was the epitome of motherhood in this moment, heavy and swollen and full of - albeit artificial - life.
“Yes, it is isn’t it?” Eyes never left her body, mapping out every little detail as if his intimate knowledge of her wasn’t retainable. “It’s perfect.”
Carter stayed right behind her, first enjoying her body but then examining her as he always did when she was pregnant. In the shower he had the habit of watching her, making certain that she was ok. It was her joy that stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t need to worry, because the woman before him was the perfect person for him. He pulled her close, his desire pressing against her lower back as his arms hugged her to his chest.
“I don’t want this night to end.” He admitted, his voice a whisper. “I never want it to.” Hands found her gravid womb, and with delicate precision, he traced her faded stretch marks, the evidence of four separate children giving Stacey the badge they both loved, that of a mother. “Remember how we helped Caleb come along?” As the question came, so too did his fingers reach lower, finding that sweet spot between her thighs. “Think that will help here?” Carter rolled onto his toes, brushing her spine.
“Almost certainly.” She hummed, tilting her head skywards so it rested against her husband’s shoulder. If the placement of his hands weren’t enough of a giveaway, the feel of his arousal pressing against her back certainly gave the game away. Stacey arched her spine, the full sphere of her belly jutting forward while her hips went back, ass pressing against him in return.
“I think you’ll find this… ohhh… this method wasn’t to help Caleb come along and more to try and stop his ill-timed descent.”
“That's true.” He said, swaying with her, his hands never leaving her body. “You were so sexy trying to hold back from pushing, and when you pushed into my palm...” Carter kissed her again. “Maybe we can try to hold this one in too? After we make sure they start coming out.”
Stacey continued to sway beneath the rainfall of warm water from above, enjoying the feel of the jets on her swollen body coupled with the supporting embrace of her husband. His one hand stayed wrapped around her hips, lightly pressing between her thighs, while the other free hand roamed across her skin - over her giant bump and then cupping her full heavy breasts. When he pinched her nipple she gasped, shuddering with pleasure but wobbling slightly unsteadily.
Carter’s hands were quick to respond, holding her close against his body, keeping her steady. “Careful honey, you’re carrying precious cargo.” His hand moved naturally and possessively over her belly, even though it wasn’t a real baby the instincts remained the same for both of them.
The feel of his touch on her sensitive skin sent waves pulsing through her veins. Stacey’s thighs clenched, trapping his hand between them, craving more friction and more pressure. She sighed, long and lyrical, her head tilted under the water and against Carter’s shoulder. With her neck exposed he began to kiss just below her ear, delicate and slow, the coarse scratching of his stubble against her skin triggering every sensitive nerve in her body. “Ohhhh… Carter….” Stacey moaned, feeling every hard inch of her aroused husband pressing against her cheeks.
His stubble shifted against her skin as he smiled. Hand trapped between her thighs, he was only encouraged to try harder. His middle and ring finger began to shift, playing with her lips. Carter felt her body shudder against his.
“Stace…”
He retracted his hand from her legs, savoring the whimper of disappointment. He found her hand, gently taking hold of it as he guided her towards the tiled wall of the shower. Kisses continued to pepper her neck and jawline before nibbling on her ear. As soon as both her hands were placed against the wall, his hands found her hips. Thumbs applied pressure to her lower back, a silent encouragement to lean forwards. Water rolled down her back, flowing like a river along the line of her spine all the way down to her ass. Carter took position, guiding himself in with intentional slowness. Her folds accepted him, and Carter was forced to take a sharp inhale as their second intimate entanglement in as many hours began.
The fullness brought a gravelled moan from her throat. Stacey leant forward, pressing her hands against the cool tile as she adjusted to her husband’s size. Thank fuck he had moved slowly, her already sensitive body might have blacked out with a harsh intrusion. But Carter was gentle, delicate, deliberate, but it was with intentional torturous lust behind it. He knew exactly how to make her squirm and shudder, and he knew how amplified the pregnancy would make things.
Stacey hummed with pleasure as he moved, a slow pull back and gentle trust forward, as if testing the waters. She bent further forward, lowering her belly and spine just a fraction, seeking more of Carter’s appendage. “Hmmmm… d-deeper… ohhh go deeper please darling….” She almost whined.
With a husky growl and nibble of her neck, Carter’s hands gripped her hips more forcefully before thrusting forward. The sound of their skin slapping was muted by the rumbling of the shower jets.
It was at that moment they were rewarded with the next contraction and Stacey all but cried out. “Ooouuhhhh…. Fuck….” Her hands clawed at the slippery tiles as her belly tightened abruptly, muscles squeezing and lifting her heavy bump up, trapped by the iron band wrapping her middle. Every part of her body seemed to clench and press down, trying fruitlessly to aid a labour that wasn’t controlled by nature but by the phone left in their bedroom.
Carter grinned, he was about to joke with her to ‘watch her language’, that ‘they were about to be parents and couldn’t say that in front of the kids’. The thought was seized when he saw her knuckles turn white as she tried desperately to grip the wall, to grab something, anything. Carter, both to torture himself a little but also to give her some extra pleasure, slowed his pace even further.
“Contraction?” He asked, tucking her soaked hair behind her ear. He heard her try to say something, but it was interrupted by a grunt of effort. Her body was squeezing him, and even though he wanted to slow, it felt as if her body was calling to him, challenging him to keep going. Skin hit skin, and Carter grunted as the friction between their bodies increased. “Pushing, mmm, won’t help.” He said, taking a handful of her breast and giving it a squeeze. His voice dropped low, becoming more of a growl than a whisper. “But dammit I love when you push for me baby…”
Stacey’s palm lifted and slapped against the tile, pressing through her elbows and shoving her hips back to meet Carter’s pelvis. His groping, his primal sounds, the feel of him so deep it made her see stars. And then he mentioned pushing and she was completely lost to her body’s urges. “Mmhhhaaa… ohhhhh…. Can’t… can’t stop… p-pushing…..” She panted.
The contraction, like all the others, was intense and powerful. Her legs were trembling and the weight in her pelvis was outrageously low. They’d been playing with The Pill not even two hours and she already felt simultaneously on edge of climax and on the cusp of birthing this pretend baby. With a shuddering gasp Stacey bore down on his instructions. It was instinctual, yes, but she was also very aware of how each push seemed to bring Carter closer to release. His hands palmed and squeezed and pinched her breasts while he plunged deep into her wide hips, drawing husky grunts of uncontrollable pushes from Stacey.
Carter didn’t say anything, his mind and body too immersed in the moment to form anything intelligible. This was the sexiest Stacey had ever been. She was gorgeous and beautiful, but this moment, pushing as he was rapidly thrusting into her, this was the most intense any of their exploits had been. To think the drive-thru could be topped…
The warmth in his pelvis grew, the sign of his impending climax. There was no way to get closer to Stacey, and he hated it. Nothing was between them. Yet the need to be even more intimate and close frustrated him. A hand left her breast, finding the side of her womb. Hard as rock. He knew it looked larger now because she was letting it hang as she bent over, the weight of her womb trying to reach the floor without her. But damn if he wouldn’t let that visual of her body fighting to expel the fake baby build in his mind.
His hot breath hit her neck, audible moans coming with them to match her own. The thrusts became frantic, primal need overtaking the kink driven intercourse. He found resistance, and even with his mind clouded, Carter knew exactly what it was. Not solid, but tough, with something concealed behind it. Knowing that each thrust against its unbreakable surface was too much to bear. A singular twitch, that was the only prelude they had. Carter buried his face in the crook of her neck, simultaneously squeezing her breast and digging his fingers into the side of her womb.
Stacey cried out, her knees shaking beneath them as that climax Carter knew she’d been staving off bloomed into an explosion of pleasure and release. As he kept the expulsion of his own desires pumping into her, he felt her hand grab his, pulling his hips closer. Every time, she did that, not wanting anything to go to waste. Both of their simultaneous orgasms rang out for a moment long, then it all changed. She clamped down on him, and he felt an onrush of something hitting him before exiting her, momentarily covering his hips before the shower washed it all away. Her moaning had grown more intense somehow, and for the moment, he was the only one who knew why.
At first Stacey assumed the change, that feeling of release, was from the exceptional pregnant sex and orgasm. But her uterus was still contracting hard and she could barely breathe. The pressure had dropped so low it felt like the baby had fallen all the way to the kitchen downstairs. But Carter was still inside her body, still pulsing with post-love-making bliss, so she knew the baby couldn’t be that low. And yet—
“Unnnghhhh…. I have… I have to p-push….” She cried out in a slight frenzy.
The primal sensations overtook any cohesive thought. Normally the experienced mother would recognise the signs of her water breaking, especially considering the torrent that ejected onto her husband’s groin, but this was no ordinary pregnancy. And this was going to be no ordinary birth.
With Carter still holding her tight, still buried inside, she gave a guttural push right down into her pelvis. Alongside the grunt of effort her fingertips squeaked down the tiled wall of the shower as her knees softened with the push. It didn’t matter that they were in the shower, that their bodies were still connected and intertwined, all she knew was she had to push and she had to push now.
He felt it. Carter's arms felt her body contracting in his hold, but that wasn’t the exhilarating sensation that he was wide eyed at experiencing. He felt it. The phone was in the other room, so there was no way to tell for certain aside from their four previous births. Stacey’s dilation must’ve progressed instantaneously, or was already at its widest when her waters had broken on him.
“Good girl.” He told her, his voice still strained from his recent climax. “That’s it, you can push.”
The pressure was intense, her body clamping down even as he was returning to his natural limp state. It was almost enough to reinvigorate him for round three, almost. He felt her lower slightly, and almost instinctively he took hold of her hips, still in position but keeping her steady. He had an adversary within her, forcing him out as she pushed. Fuck. He wasn’t ever going to be able to get this one out of his head. Carter decided it was best to remain right where he was, at least for the moment. Stacey, apparently, didn’t realize that her own orgasm had been the straw that broke the camel's back as it were. Her pushes were no longer pointless, they were purposeful, and progressive.
While the contraction held her hostage, Stacey could only gasp and push, gasp and push, over and over. Autonomy was long gone and all her focus and efforts were diverted to this one cause. With every grunting push their bodies inched lower in the shower, an unconscious slow motion to get her pelvis wider and more open by squatting slightly. She was working entirely at the hands of primal instincts - no thoughts or plans or intentions.
Her whole body trembled with a roaring push, the action egged on by the purring encouragement of her husband, and then eventually the contraction ebbed away. Her breathing was heavy and rapid, control gradually returning, and god did her knees ache.
“Hooooo… hooo oh my… that one was the most….intense…yet…” she puffed out, palms still cemented on the tile, still unaware of the specific sequence of events chosen by her husband. Her knees promptly checked out, buckling with exhaustion post-orgasm and post-pushing. Somehow she got down onto all fours and she immediately felt the loss of her husband slipping out from between her legs.
Carter dropped with her, protectively holding her on instinct. The way she’d gotten downward was too fast, and he was afraid for a moment that she’d possibly blacked out. Her back was still arched though, and even now she panted through the pain and discomfort.
“It sure felt intense.” Carter said, adjusting his positioning so that he was beside her. “I think that might be the end of sex for now.” A smile split his face, growing broader when Stacey gave him a questioning look. He read her like a book, it was saying ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ Carter kept the little nugget of truth to himself for now, after all, maybe she’d assume the settings were altered when he’d gone to start the shower, or just not realize that progress was possible. Either way, Carter wouldn’t tell her until the very last moment.
“Here…” He said, placing the heel of his hand in her lower back. He pressed down firmly, making little circles as he did so. “How’s that feel?”
“Mmmhh… good… helps…” Stacey hummed, rocking slightly on hands and knees to adjust to the new weight that had settled deeper in her hips.
The shit-eating grin on her husband’s face told Stacey that he had planned something, or at least knew something. What that was - well, she would have to find out. She knew giving him full access to the damn app would make him feral, only time would tell if she’d let him have control again next time or not.
Even without a contraction Stacey’s words sounded breathy and moany. Any pressure she’d felt with each wave no longer disappeared - remaining heavy and unrefutable. “Oooof— god Carter this baby feels low already. For a second there, I thought it was going to deliver right here in the shower.”
“Well that is an option.” He said with a one shouldered shrug. “But I was thinking we should go back downstairs”
The look on Stacey’s face made his grin only grow wider. He relished the prospect of watching her try to waddle downstairs while in active labor, especially seeing as he had yet to look this far into the app to see how the birth was meant to play out. His only alterations had been triggering her water to break and the extra contractions, as far as progress, he was now as in the dark as his wife was.
“Tell you what, love.” He said, rubbing a bit harder again against her back. “After the next contraction, we could try on some of your old clothes. I know a certain pair of leggings we both have fond memories of…”
Stacey laughed. Those leggings were a big part of the success of their fourth birth, managing to hold back from delivering the head as long as she did. Those leggings were also long thrown away.
“I chucked them out, remember, they were ruined after Caleb’s birth.” Stacey said heavily, managing to recover a bit more to lift her head and sit back on her heels. “But I like where you’re going with this. I do have some non-maternity leggings we can use. It won’t go over this bump, but they’ll certainly be tight.”
Carter helped Stacey off the shower floor, switching off the waterfall jets before wrapping her in a towel. It barely went around her circumference - the belly poking out the middle. Waddling back into their bedroom, both stark naked, Stacey made her way to the dresser to get the specific outfit she was thinking of. The next contraction happened while she was hunting through the drawers and she had to elbow the surface of the dresser and moan her way through it. The urge to push happened every-damn-time now, the baby felt like it was right in the bowl of her pelvis. Carter stood loyally behind her, pressing hard against her hips and encouraging her not to push. His words were gravelled and so sexy, and combined with the pressure she felt it was hard to stay focused.
Eventually, and with only two contractions in the middle, they both got dressed. Stacey wore her regular black leggings and a long black and white striped tshirt. Carter meanwhile opted for a pair of athletic shorts and a long sleeve blue shirt with grey sleeves, his typical attire for being around the family all day. Huffing from the effort of getting dressed, Stacey automatically cradled her belly as she turned around on the spot - almost asking for her husband’s approval in her choice.
“Come here often sexy?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he cocked an eyebrow. A full intake of her outfit didn’t trigger lust as it had with the dress. It was endearing on a level he couldn’t explain, seeing the love of his life dressed so casually with a life growing inside.
“I know where I want to go next….” Stacey purred, slowly stepping in her husband’s direction until her rounded orb of a belly pressed against his torso. She lifted on her tiptoes, holding his shoulders to keep balance, and leaning towards his ear she whispered “Your office, downstairs.”
“Oh?” He questioned, hands instinctively falling to hold her swollen stomach. “All the way down…” As he spoke, Carter slowly turned with her, the couple making a tiny circle. A waltz of two lovers. “That’s a long way Stace, and I don’t know how patient our baby will be.” His fingers found the edge of her shirt and lifted till he felt the warm flesh. She was still slightly damp from the shower, and he knew they’d both relish when she got soaked to the bone with sweat from the labor.
As if his thoughts had triggered it, the third contraction since they left the bathroom hit her. He knew before her face even changed, the muscles in her abdomen tightened beneath his palms a fraction of a second before her jaw quivered. Before him his wife quivered, no doubt feeling that urge to push again. She still didn’t know, did she? He leant in, already noticing how more of her weight was on his neck. She was trying to squat again wasn’t she?
“Hold back hon.” He told her, thumbs rubbing the rock solid sphere of flesh between them. “It’s not time to push yet.”
Her hands gripped the back of his shirt, bunching the blue fabric in her fists as she panted rapidly. Without thought, her stance was wide as she clung to her husband through the raging contraction, trying to withstand the pressure between her hips.
“Mmmmghh… but… I want to push darling…. Ohhhhh god I wanna push….” Stacey practically whimpered, hips rocking and swaying around the iron boulder pressing down, barely managing to hold back.
By the skin of her teeth Stacey made it through the contraction without pushing, at least, not consciously pushing. But as she moved again it was hard to ignore how much lower the baby felt. “Carter… I’m not sure if this is… right…. Baby feels so low?”
“I know darling, but it’s not time.” He told her, bringing a hand up to twirl her hair between his fingers. “It’s just the urge, the labor is not moving along just yet. The app even says so, we have time before the baby comes. Let’s enjoy it.”
Despite the reassurance, Stacey felt on edge, as she did with each birth just before things got serious. As if her body was on the precipice of something monumental. She might not have the app, or know what was coming, but she was certain of one thing - she didn’t want to deliver in the bedroom or the living room. Two of their children had been born in this house and she wanted to explore more unconventional locations with this simulation. So she waddled out the door of their bedroom, down the hallway, in an attempt to get down the stairs before the next contraction happened. But if she had been timing them, she would have known the mission was bound to fail.
Carter remained two steps behind her, already anticipating the inevitable. He wasn’t dumb enough to try and stop her when she was so determined. But, he was smart enough to know that there was no chance of her descending the stairs without issue. Eyes examining her every move, Carter watched as Stacey tried to go down. Pregnancy affected her balance horribly, and while normally she was able to adapt over months, this short gestation seemed to still be troubling her. She’d started to step, paused, seemed to reassess, then turned to the side to go down one step at a time.
The tedious method reminded him all too well of when she was pregnant with their first. Constantly having to adapt to her own changing body was a skill that never ceased to amaze. Stacey managed four steps, and froze. White knuckled, her chest heaved, her stomach shrinking to show the outline of her womb. Mere moments before her knees buckled, Carter had looped his arms beneath hers, holding her upright.
“Breathe.” He told her. “Just a contraction like all the ones before. Nothing to it, and no pushing needed…”
Automatically her eyes closed with the sudden clamp of her womb and while her fingers gripped the rail Stacey was grateful for Carter’s swift reaction. This so easily could have ended badly, so easily could have fallen, but her husband - as always - kept her steady and safe. A groan came bubbling up her throat while her muscles clamped down, her knees widening and softening part-way down the stairs.
“Hooooo—hoooooooo— Car—Carter—” Stacey moaned, her mouth hanging open to pant through the pressure.
His soft soothing words in her ear did nothing to alleviate the desperate weight in her hips determined to sink lower. She grunted, unplanned and uncontrolled, her body bearing down with the contraction unconsciously. She only realised when she felt the fruits of her labour and an increase of pressure against her cervix.
“I… ohhhhhh… I think it’s coming…? I’m…. I’m pushing….?” Stacey panicked slightly, caught entirely off guard with how forcefully her body was acting of its own accord. While they were stuck on the stairs.
“Hey hey, it’s ok.” His reassurance came with a kiss on her cheek. Stacey was trying to squat, whether intentionally or not he was unsure. What mattered was keeping her up, and keeping the baby in. “Baby isn’t coming, the app is saying as much.” A lie, but one that was going to feed into both of their fantasies. To give his wife even more comfort that it was fine, another small lie came. “Your water hasn’t even broken, it has to before the baby will make progress.”
A slight nod was her only answer. Carter waited, holding her until it appeared the worst of the contraction had passed. The weight in his arms lessened, and he spotted her knuckles regaining color. She had absolutely been pushing, but a little fib to make her doubt whether it was true wouldn’t hurt. This pill was safe, and with it they didn’t need to worry about possible dangers. They moved, taking one step at a time. Stacey didn’t push him away, her independence taking a momentary backseat to make sure he was near enough in case another contraction came. Thankfully, they made it all the way down.
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Carter asked, that shit eating grin he knew she loved plastered all over his face.
Stacey paused to glare at her husband, lips pressed in a thin pout. But the sparkle behind her eyes, the slight curve at the very edges of her lips, confirmed the underlying playfulness of the moment. She released a long and heavy exhale before responding.
“T-they’re getting harder and harder to ride out.” Stacey mused while rubbing her belly over the striped cotton jersey of her tshirt, still keeping a hand out just in case she needed to grab onto something. “I can’t even speak through them anymore. If this was a real pregnancy I’d say we were long overdue calling for the midwife. It’s all so intensely realistic babe, the pressure, the urges.” She couldn’t help soften the last word, a breathy husky tone that she knew would affect her husband.
His body betrayed him, a shudder rippling through him. It disappears as fast as it came, but even in that short span, Stacey had absolutely noticed. Maybe there was time for more fun…
They had to ride out another contraction at the bottom of the stairs before they could move to Carter’s home office. Her husband seemed to foresee the weakening of her knees and had wrapped his arms around her upper back and entwined his fingers together over her spine. When Stacey moaned and panted her way through the contraction, when her knees started to buckle, his strong arms held her close and she was almost hanging off his broad frame. The instinctual need to lower her stance and spread her legs wide was something so primal she barely noticed, but Carter certainly had. He took extra care after the contraction had ended to make sure her stance returned to a much narrower position. And god it made it feel so full.
“As much as I love your waddle, you don’t need to be so wide.” He told her. “Not till I let you know it’s time to push.”
Stacey’s eyes fluttered, almost rolling, and she held on to his shoulders for a second while she adjusted to the heavy bowling ball sitting oh so low in her pelvis.
The office was in the corner of the house, opposite the kitchen. He tried to spend as little time there as possible when the kids were home, preferring time with the family. But, as it was, work did sometimes find its way home with him. Today the office wasn’t for work though, it was simply for pleasure. Walking backwards so that he could continue his support of Stacey, Carter pushed against the doors to open them. Double doors with glass panels led into the room. The walls were painted white, a row of books on shelves against the back wall with his desk sitting in the center. That was the goal.
“I think this is the perfect place.” He whispered to her. The couple made it to the desk, and simply from the counting in his head and the way Stacey’s body was trembling, he knew the next contraction was near. Mischief in mind, he pulled out the phone as she leaned on the desk, her rear towards him. Sure enough, another ten seconds, and she’d contract. He sat her phone down, screen up, and took hold of her hips. Carter leant in, timing his words perfectly. “You can’t push…”
With her head hanging between her shoulders, Stacey began to pant, faster and faster as the contraction took hold. Beneath her clothing the glorious orb of her belly had lifted and distorted, turning to stone and squeezing everything down. She whimpered, rocking her hips and moving her feet wider on the carpet.
“Oooohh—ohhhhh— ughhhh!!!” The groan that slipped from her mouth was gravelled and breathy. She could feel sweat start to dampen the back of her shirt as she tried to hold off against the barreling urge to bear down.
“P-Press—back— h-hard—” she managed to huff out in staccato breaths. She needed something - anything - to counter the overwhelming pressure between her legs. If she couldn’t push yet, the last resort was the firm weight of her husband to stop this contraction from taking over.
He said her waters hadn’t broken, that the simulated baby wasn’t ready to be born yet - but fucking hell she wanted to push. She wanted to push so fiercely that it was starting to overwhelm all thoughts. Until Carter’s hands pressed hard into the backs of her hips, his breath caressing her neck from behind. And then she remembered the pleasure, the game they were playing.
“That’s my girl…” He purred. Hips pressed against hers, he continued the deep massage in her lower back muscles. “Breathe, but don’t push.” Her legs were trying to spread again, and he could only imagine the pressure and need she had to do so. But it wasn’t time, they could have so much more fun before he let the path from her womb open up. With relative ease he put his feet on either side of hers. The action must have been noticed, because less than a second later her legs were trying to claim any open space they could. Carter remained firm in his position.
There were little noises, sounds so familiar to him that they may as well have been projected over a megaphone. Even though she tried not to, Carter knew she’d just given in. It was barely anything, but that little failed effort made a part of his brain click, a role to play, one that he’d put into action immediately.
The game was growing intimate again it seemed. Perhaps unintentionally, Stacey’s hips rocking led to Carter's body reacting naturally. It could be easily said though, that Stacey rarely had to do much to get Carter excited. Stacey took in a gulp of air, and Carter rightly assumed the contraction was gone. Gentle hands took her, and spun her around to face him. Red faced, sweaty, and exhausted, yet the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“You pushed.” He admonished. “I don’t remember saying it was time…” Carter looked her in the eyes, unblinking and focused. “I think I need to keep an eye on you, and check, to see if you moved things… too fast.”
“What… no, I didn’t push… I don’t… I don’t think I pushed?” She breathed heavily, her full chest rising and falling as she attempted to recover from the contraction. The waves were so close together it felt like she was continually huffing and puffing, sweating and waddling, it was exactly as she’d hoped.
At her husband’s feigned sternness, Stacey pushed her bottom lip forward, a little pout. “I didn’t push.” This time more definitively, a little defiantly.
With the desk now behind her, Stacey shifted slightly back, planting her ass on the very edge of the wooden furniture to keep herself upright. Her hands moved in large circles around the full sphere of her belly that stretched the jersey knit of her long top, and accentuating her breathing through soft pursed lips.
“Baby is so low and heavy… they feel like they’re close…” she cooed softly, watching her husband entranced by the sight of her gravid form. “How are you going to check my progress, with these tight leggings on?”
He blinked, momentarily taken out of the role he’d been trying to become. Stacey was just too damn sexy when she was like this. Her curves were begging to be exposed, yet for the moment, he knew they both wanted her to stay dressed. Carter stepped closer, hands planting flat on either side of her on the desk. Her belly stopped him getting any closer. Her scent filled his nostrils, and he savored the intoxication it offered. He exhaled, his hot breath breaking against her sweat-damp skin.
“I have my ways.” Carter told her, reimmersing himself. In a flash, he took her thighs, and lifted. Pregnancy added weight, as was natural. But dammit when a man was hungry for his wife he could do anything. Before she knew it, Stacey was fully on the desk, any paperwork that was stacked there was brushed away, and his laptop set far to the side. Carter stared at how her legs were forced apart by her belly, her forward posture making the underside touch the desk.
“Now.” He said, calmly. Carter gingerly pulled up her shirt to expose her stomach. Palm flat on its surface, he spoke again. “I need your legs apart.” As the words came, his hand crept down. “But don’t take that as an opening to push Stace. I told you, it’s, not, time.” He found the elastic band of her leggings, digging beneath them with his fingertips. “Can you promise me that?” Before she had a chance to answer, his lips were on hers, and his hand, found its intended target.
Her moan was swallowed by Carter’s hungry kiss, the growl from the back of her throat disappearing into her husband’s mouth. His lustful gaze, his hot breath, and soft caress had all cumulated into putting every nerve in Stacey’s body on edge. She was trembling beneath his touch, moaning pleasurably against his lips, all the while her legs parted to let his hand explore.
His digits plunged deeper, and Stacey gasped, her hands rising to grip his shoulders - nails digging slightly into the blue fabric of his shirt. Everything was so sensitive, delicate, thrown into an ocean of arousal at the slightest of movements. The lingering pressure from the latest contraction seemed to be so low she was almost sure Carter would cross paths with that heavy weight. But as his fingers plunged he curled them slightly, his lips grinning against hers, and she cried out at the sweet spot he had reached.
“Oooooh—my—god…”
Automatically her thighs parted wider on the desk, simultaneously to allow better access and to alleviate the ache of her hips. Stacey ground her pelvis, trying to meet more friction, to seek more from her husband. But midway through her pleasurable humming a sharp contraction stopped her in her tracks. Every part of her body stiffened, tight, braced for the inevitable peak. Her womb seized, lifting her low belly from the desk where it had been hanging over and between her legs. Every muscle clamped and squeezed, her breath catching on the painful pressure, made all the more intense with her husband’s hand, so deep, and practically trapped by her contracting body.
Carter let the silent debate in his head roll for a moment before the decision was made.
“Push.” He told her. The single word came with a curl of his fingers within her. She bore down almost immediately. He knew this was the first time she intentionally pushed, and the way her chin dug into her chest was perfect. He allowed her to keep going, only able to imagine the satisfaction she felt giving in to the instinctual needs of her body. He waited, after four kids he knew exactly how she’d shift when the contraction peaked. Stacey’s thighs shook, and he knew it was time.
“Now stop.” He said. “That’s all for this one love.” Carter's eyes were hungry and devious. This moment couldn’t end too fast.
Her eyes flew open, staring hazily up at Carter. “Wh—what?! No!” She gasped.
The contraction had reached its peak and had only granted her enough time to take a breath - utter her words of dismay - before her muscles squeezed again. She couldn’t stop now! The contraction was still raging, the urge still screaming at her to bear down.
She did it anyway, not fully taking seriously her husband’s instruction. With her teeth gritted and exposed, she bore down against her husband’s fingers once more. Desperately craving that satisfaction of a deep and productive push.
Well, that was a mistake on her part. Carter remained silent, letting her savor this push. A quick glance over to the phone would have revealed his intentions if it hadn’t been for Stacey’s current condition taking all her attention. He reached for it. With phone in hand, he looked through the settings. He didn’t need Stacey to tell him the contraction was ending. The grip on his fingers loosened, and now that she’d done the opposite of what he said, it was time to get serious.
“That wasn’t a suggestion.” He told her, slipping his fingers out. His palm remained on her belly, feeling the baby shifting. According to the app, its descent was underway, the head finally starting to exit the cervix. Little dials and scales, as well as a virtual diagram of the baby’s progress filled the screen. A thrill went through him, as his thumb pressed on the dial labeled ‘progress’. “Let’s try that again baby…” Carter, slid the dial, reversing all the progress his wife had just made.
Initially Stacey whimpered, an automatic response assuming another contraction. But the feeling inside of her body was unlike anything she’d experienced; the pressure was receding but the fullness - oh god the fullness.
“Ohhhhhhh….” She gasped, pressing her hands into the desk and lifting her hips a fraction through the peculiar pulsing inside her womb. It was as if her belly was getting bigger, rounder, and her thighs began to shake. Stacey felt the weighted sphere in her pelvis rise instead of sink - the baby was going—
“Carter!! What have you done…? Hoooooo…. It’s going back…!” She panted her way through the disturbing reverse of sensations, the sounds coming from her chest were almost whimpers. It felt weird, wrong, and yet the continued stretching of her hip joints meant she still felt deliciously full, so it wasn’t all bad.
“It told you little pushes Stacey.” He leaned in, putting his face so close that the smallest shift would inevitably lead to another kiss. “That, wasn’t a little push. So I figure, why not have a little punishment for not listening?” Carter was fully immersed into his role, ready to take control in a more dominant way. “It only makes sense darling. If the kids don’t listen they get timeout, if you don’t listen, you gotta start, all, over.” He smiled again, letting that kiss happen he’d been teasing.
Their lips pressing together didn’t stop him from reading a few things from his wife simply by how she kissed. Over a decade of marriage would let anyone read more into the most subtle of changes in a person's behavior. She’d exhaled, a quick huff that he clocked as annoyance. Carter expected as much, so in response he sat the phone down, bringing his hands to the sensitive underside of her womb. Teeth tugged at her lower lip as he pulled away. She was pouting, and that made him even happier about doing what he did.
“You’re an ass.” She blew out a heavy exhale, slowly settling after the retreating of the “baby” back into her womb.
“I had to show you I was serious, didn’t I? You’re just lucky that I didn’t have the baby stop halfway out. It is an option you know.” A wolfish grin split his face. “Now, promise to be a good girl for me, and only do little pushes, or maybe the progress will get even slower…”
“Hmmm…” Stacey’s pout lingered, her eyes glaring playfully at her husband. She was annoyed, yes, the undoing of her pushing progress was bound to have that effect. But the annoyance was only surface level - in truth she was relishing the evening, getting to indulge in all their fantasies. It was clear from her husband’s tone that Carter was really getting into the role, a role so unlike his caring and thoughtful self but one of loving dominance.
Well if he was going to play a role this evening, then she would too.
Stacey fluttered her lashes, the pout on her lips turning coy, and she gently let her hands roam and caress the front of his shirt. “I’ll try not to push… I’ll be good.” She purred. Usually fiercely independent, Stacey played up the submissive role with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. “It’s just… when the baby gets that low, it is hard not to push. My body wants to push so badly.” As if to tempt him from his role Stacey widened her thighs on the desk, sliding to the edge and pressing her full swollen belly right against his torso.
Carter leaned over her, feeling her womb press against him. It was an impossible task before him, trying to keep himself immersed without melting like putty between his wife’s honeyed words. He wanted her again, and his body knew it. Lips found her neck, and the heat of her breath against his skin only made that urge grow. Carter was huffing as he whispered into her ear.
“I know.” He purred. “But we don’t want the baby coming love… slow, so, so slow. I want you to feel every centimeter as it goes down.” His palm found her crotch, massaging over the fabric of her leggings. “I can’t have you missing the sensations like you did when I broke your water…”
The words hung in the air and Stacey almost missed them; too distracted by the teasing movements of her husband’s thumb over the stretched Lycra of her leggings.
“Wait— what?” She breathed heavily, trying to focus through the sizzling pleasure between her thighs. But she couldn’t question Carter any further, her round belly seizing abruptly and she gripped his shoulders with a gasp.
“Shhhh, shhh. Feel that?” He grinned. “You think it would feel like that with the amniotic sac?” Her tightening womb flared his desires, making his body shudder. “Be a good girl, and give me one, little, push…”
Stacey was already panting - whether from the contraction or arousal, she didn’t know. With her head tilting skyward, her husband’s lips grazing her neck, her body complied without question. All the tension, all the pressure, moved south. She grunted, the push drawing out those delicious primal sounds that made her husband feral. Hell, it made her feral too. Fuck, she loved pushing. Even more so when it was against Carter’s large palm. She lifted a fraction, tilting her pelvis towards him and pushed against his perfect counterpressure. As the ‘baby’ moved, her efforts fruitful, she moaned beautifully.
“Ooooohhh Carter…. That’s… that’s why it feels so… so…. looooooow….. no fluids… this is all just—ughghhh— the head is coming d-down…” she sang through the moan, grinding down on the desk, and taking another breath she prepared to push again with the current contraction.
“That’s right.” He groaned. “The heads coming down, almost too big for you isn’t it…” Carter pressed his pelvis against her, her inner thighs telling her what she couldn’t see. Maybe there’s time… Carter applied pressure with his palm, the heel of his hand finding her most sensitive spots.
The contractions peak left his wife panting, but she was waiting, waiting for his approval. The hungry look in his eyes would have betrayed the temptation to make her hold back. The beautiful agony she’d experience would be such a turn on for them both. The mere thought made him want to rip her clothes off here and have sex on his desk. Desperate eyes stared up at him, pleading, she was doing so well at holding back. But even in this role, he wasn’t so cruel that he’d force her to go with no progress.
“Push.”
The word barely left his mouth before Stacey was giving it her all. Her knees lifted, belly firm and tight as she curled forward with the effort of bearing down. “Nnnnghhh!”
The heat between them, the sexual tension, could be cut with a knife. And yet Stacey’s body was on an instinctual drive, automatic clenching and squeezing of muscles against the solid weight between her hips. Her waters had already gone - Carter hadn’t told her when or where but it must have been in the shower. She’d have noticed otherwise. The pressure on her cervix was astronomical and she was surprised she hadn’t realised it wasn’t the cushioning of fluid but the firm hard skull of the ‘baby’ that was wedged there.
“Oooooh—ohhhhh—nnnnghh— oh god!” Stacey gasped at the end of push. All her efforts were on bringing this baby through to the birth canal, so much so that as she released the push she slipped backwards, no core muscles to keep her upright.
Hands took hold of her, gripping beneath her arms to prevent Stacey from falling down to the desk. No matter how immersed into a role Carter might become, there was no chance he would allow Stacey to even have the chance of getting hurt in the pursuit of their pleasures.
“I’ve got you hon.” He said, the mask of a dominating lover slipping for a moment.
“Mmmh… c-can I move? It’s h-hard to push p-properly like this…” Stacey breathlessly asked. The question partly in her submissive role but partly because she’d need assistance to move with the near-constant contractions and the sheer size of the baby in the bowl of her pelvis.
“Oh?” Carter cocked an eyebrow. “Asking instead of just doing?” He didn’t lean closer to her, instead, he pulled her towards him, forcing her to sit upright in what he could only imagine was an uncomfortable position with the baby so low. “You’re learning love. Let’s get you a new position then…”
He helped her to scoot off the desk, her stance forced wide due to the baby’s low movements. She’d started to turn, to lean on the desk in what he knew she would find more comfortable. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Carter held her from behind, his arousal pressing against her lower back. Hand between her legs, as if he was concerned the baby would come, he spoke again.
“I haven’t told you what position yet baby.” Carter guided her away from the desk. “I think your only support right now, should be me. No desk to hold, no chair to lean on.” He kissed her cheek. “You bend over and this will end up like the shower all over again…” Not that he’d complain, and for her to be actively pushing? Well that would have been quite the experience. “I’ll make a deal with you.” He lifted her striped shirt, fingers brushing against the nub of her navel. “If you can orgasm, then I’ll let you lean on the desk for a few contractions. Deal?”
She nodded, breathing heavier from the effort of standing. “Okay y-yes… oooof…mmmhh…”
At this point the phone was an afterthought, an extra whimsy for him if the mood struck. Perhaps after another contraction or two he’d tweak settings, but this slow progress was far too delicious to alter just yet.
Stacey’s head fell back against her husband’s shoulder, his hands possessively wrapped around her body - one splayed across the firm globe of her belly while the other dipped beneath its curve to cup between her wide legs. “Mmmnh… baby is so heavy, so low… I can feel it-” She hummed, circling her hips slightly, the movement highlighting just how hard and aroused her husband was as his hips mirrored her own “-just wedged there. Ooof— it’s huge!”
They barely had thirty seconds of this intimate swaying before the next contraction, the first one standing in a while. As she stiffened, Carter growled a pleasurable noise in her ear. “Hold it.” He whispered, her body tensing and tightening beneath his hands. Her knees widened and shook automatically, the barreling pressure reaching new heights aided by gravity. Without anything to lean on, to bend over and brace, Stacey was stuck in her husband's arms while she panted frantically.
“I… I wanna push….mmmmgh…” she whimpered, trying to fight the urges to bear down. Lifting her arms up and behind her head, she grasped on to her husband any way she could - looping her fingers behind his neck.
Her preferred labouring position was always to curl forward - on hand and knees, bracing walls, or leaning over the bed or couch - to ease into each contraction and help it progress. But here, now, she was the complete reverse; Carter standing behind while her body arched uncomfortably backwards like a crescent moon, her bump sticking so far out like it was orbiting the couple. It was doing nothing to aid the ‘baby’s’ journey through her birth canal but that didn’t mean the desire to push was any less urgent.
Stacey hissed through her teeth as the contraction fast approached its peak. “I—I need to push— Car-Carter I have to push—” But still her husband didn’t give the word, didn’t tell her to bear down. In desperation to continue holding back she uttered the shaky words “touch me!”, knowing if she wanted to push in her preferred position she’d need to climax first and there was only one way that was happening.
One hand stayed dominantly between her legs but Carter slowly moved his other hand over her low and contracting bump, beneath her clothes, towards her sensitive breasts. She moaned, almost shuddering, his fingers brushing over each nipple.
“I know you want to.” He mused, placing emphasis on how her pushing was a choice. Of course at this point he knew to resist was an impossibility, but watching and listening to her try to hold back was a pleasure unto itself. “But you can’t. Not yet…”
Between index finger and thumb, he pinched her breast, the warmth of her milk coating his fingertips. Simultaneously, he straightened his other hand between her thighs, lifting it up to press against her opening. The fabric did nothing to conceal her desire. And Carter didn’t care if that was just leakage of the excess amniotic fluid or actual sexual fluids, his wife was dripping beneath his touch, and that was exactly what he wanted. The hand between her legs moved back and forth, making a sawing motion that with her increased sensitivity would drive her mad. He’d done it before, and adored the result.
“That’s my girl.” He purred into her ear. “I can see you thinking you’ll get away with pushing a little… I suggest, you don’t try that.” His middle finger curled between her legs. “Be a shame if I have to punish you again.”
“Oh god, Carter!” She mewled. Stacey bent her legs without thinking, sinking onto his flattened palm, chasing friction and grinding down. Pleasure thrummed through her veins, reaching almost the same intensity as the need to bear down. Every part of her body was trembling, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, stuck beneath the devilish ministrations of her husband’s hands. She was on a knife edge with no idea which way she’d fall.
He squeezed her nipple in tandem with additional pressure between her thighs, Stacey shuddered before grunting a moan. “Oh no… I’m gonna… p-push…” Her words were a frantic whine laced with unbridled enjoyment. She was desperately clinging on, trying to hold back, but there was just no distinction between her body’s demands. There was no way she could do one and not the other. If she climaxed, she’d most definitely push.
“Not. Yet.” He growled. Carters hips pressed against her, his arousal undeniable. This torture was so, so sweet. Milk was leaving Stacey’s shirt soaked, almost as if their son was in the other room crying and she responded in kind. The warm fluids coated his fingers as she whimpered. He stretched the moment, three seconds, five… Carter decided that now, she deserved a little relief. Fingers dug in, the fabric of her leggings only barely preventing him from penetrating deep inside. As it was, he still found some depth. In the same moment, he moved his hand back and forth with speed, his breath exhaling against her sweat damp neck.
Stacey careened right over the edge, any hope of holding back promptly evaporating. Her inner muscles clenched, a sharp gasp catching in her throat, the climax taking hold. “Ah…ahhh…. Carter—yes—!” With trembling knees she held on tight, her fingers still looped behind her husband’s neck above her head. With the crescendo of pleasure spasming between her thighs, her womb clamped down in tandem, taking the opportunity and pushing along with the orgasm.
The result of her combined arousal and pushing was felt instantaneously. The heavy boulder in her hips shifted lower, splitting her pelvis apart, forcing her knees to bow. The simulated baby was dropping even further, even closer to the exit and she groaned with pained pleasure at the increased fullness.
The drop was anticipated. Carter's hand between her legs held firm, preventing his wife from dropping to all fours in order to open up for pushing. This was still early in the active stage of labor, and he knew as much as her body wanted to rush, Stacey would want it to move slowly. Or would she?
“Don’t hold your breath.” He told her, letting his own knees buckle to give her just a little more space to work with. “Feel it dropping down?” Of course she did, her moans were enough evidence of that. “I’m sorry I had to punish you love.” The contraction was ebbing, as it did, he guided his laboring wife to the desk so he could place her hands on it. Before he let go, he tucked her hair behind her ears. Sweat dripped off her nose onto the stained wood top, her exposed womb still open to the air. Carter was forced to bottle his lust for her. He moved, leaning on the desk in a nonchalant manner.
“You did good, you listened.” He smiled, showing just enough teeth that told Stacey he was enjoying playing this part far more than either of them could have anticipated. “And when you listen…” Carter turned on the phone screen, letting it be in plain view for Stacey. “You get a reward.” His finger found a slider, next to it, a depiction of a uterus and birth canal, with the artificial baby’s progress. He moved it, to just behind the opening.
With her hands on the edge of the desk, Stacey settled into her much preferred position, watching the way her husband’s eyes sparkled with the reflection of the phone’s light. Or perhaps it was pure glee. As his fingertip rose from the screen she felt something change deep inside her womb. She hadn’t seen what he’d selected, only that a decision had been made. But she was soon to find out; immediately her swollen belly seized, tight and firm, outlining the shape of the artificial baby inside. It was strong, almost like a contraction, but somehow not.
“Ohhhhh… ohhhh something's happening… mmmmhh…” she moaned, leaning into the desk and lowering her head slightly, her ass naturally shifting backwards and opening her pelvis more. “Ahhh… oh it’s moving… down! Oh wow….”
Stacey couldn’t help the lengthy breathy moans as whatever setting that had been chosen activated. The bowling ball between her legs was sinking - heavier, deeper, closer. Without thought her feet slid apart on the carpet, widening her stance instinctively around the hard skull that now felt dangerously close to appearing.
“I’m… I’m not pushing… oh but it feels like it’s coming out… unghhhh….” Stacey almost purred the moan, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness that was making her aroused again already. And brought with it the desire, but not a need, to push.
He cupped her cheek, running a lover's thumb across it. Using the smallest implication of force, he lifted her gaze so they could lock eyes.
“It’s going to try and come out.” He told her. “It’s right there, between your legs.” Carter's smile became more genuine as memories of the drive thru played on repeat behind his eyes. He recalled this exact moment there, where he’d placed his hands, what he’d done while she pushed, the pleasures they both felt as a result. He wondered inwardly if such pleasures should be repeated, if Stacey’s body could handle even more erotic pleasure. His hand dropped from her cheek, and he pushed off the desk.
“Now, I could let it go smoothly.” He said, circling her. As he did, his fingertips graced along the exposed flesh of her belly and lower back. “But I think that would be too nice.” The gap between her shirt and skin spread as he slipped his hand up, middle finger finding every bump of her vertebrae. The shudder she gave in response fueled his own need for intimacy. He found her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he leant in to whisper in her ear. “What do you think baby? Should I be nice? Or will you be naughty?”
Stacey was practically panting. The thrumming pressure combined with Carter’s teasing touches was deliciously intense. She could feel his warm breath on her sweat-dampened neck, the rough callouses on his hands as he glided up the smooth skin of back.
“Mmmhh… I… I just wanna push Carter… I don’t care if I d-don’t make progress I just— oooohhh I want to feel… damn it’s right there!” Stacey groaned, her knuckles squeezing the edge of the desk, the fullness between her thighs was so tempting, calling at her to bear down. “P-please let me p-push properly.”
Carter took his time to think on it. She did ask nicely, as he’d told her she must, and she was in what he remembered as the hottest part of the whole ordeal. The phone was stuffed into his pocket, the next alteration wouldn’t be till a very specific point was reached. So all his attention could be on the moment about to unfold.
“Ok.” He said, slipping a palm between her opening thighs. “Push for me…”
A sharp inhale, a minute adjustment of her legs, and then Stacey was pushing. A deep and forceful push, a productivepush. “Nnnnghhh!!!” Her teeth were bared, gritted, as all her efforts sank down through her pelvis. It felt so damn satisfying she sighed an enjoyable exhale at the end of the push before taking another deep breath and going again.
Her husband’s hand was cupped between her legs, keeping her stance suitably wide, but crucially applying counterpressure through her tight leggings against her sensitive opening. Stacey found her hips dipping slightly, grinding and pressing down against his palm as she pushed again, feeling the baby move down while Carter’s hand pressed up as if to meet it. She was so beautifully full. So heavy and swollen and gravid and now pushing into her husband’s firm hand. It was exactly where she wanted this evening to go and was determined to enjoy every second of it. A low grunt of pure primal effort rattled from her throat as she beared down, feeling every tiny millimetre of progress, the baby sitting heavier against her labia and beginning to peak through with the push.
The pressure against his hand increased, and the delight along with it. Her body was trying to open around the head, but with the size they’d set, even the added effort from her openly pushing was doing little to progress it. Even if it did start to poke out, Carter would simply have held firm. So many unmedicated births, and Stacey still shook when bearing down. Carter supposed that no matter how many children they had, her body would always react like this. That, was more than ok with him.
“I can feel it.” He said, gently patting the solid mass bulging in her leggings. “It’s right there love, trying to escape.” Carter found her stomach again. “I think it’s safer in there, don’t you? Maybe we should try to hold back a bit, let this moment stretch.” As the words came, the contraction finally ebbed, and he emphasized by pressing firmly where the baby was descending.
A whimpering sound rumbled behind Stacey’s closed mouth. When the contraction released her muscles stopped pushing and with the relaxation - along with Carter’s gentle nudge - the baby slipped back slightly. It was still undeniably there, just behind her skin, sitting heavy and oh so ready.
“I forget… how intense this bit is.” She mumbled, catching her breath back. “When they are this close, but not quite crowning, it’s like— hmmmm…. It’s like nature takes over. My body working on pure instinct.”
Slowly Stacey circled her hips, a tentative move to really feel just how low the ‘baby’ was nestled, to appreciate every ounce of fullness. Usually, with a real baby, there would be a sense of urgency and need to deliver quickly and safely. Especially once this point had been reached. But now, now there was no risk to an infant or Stacey. Right here and now was purely about pleasure and fantasy and exploration. Her husband’s choice of words echoed in her mind. Stretch. Yes, soon her body would be stretched thin around a baby. The implication behind Carter’s words was clear - this birth was going to be a long and slow progress.
Slowly, Stacey righted her body, letting go of the desk to stand straighter. Somewhat. Carter’s hand stayed between her legs, reluctant to let go.
“Yes, it’s definitely safer for them to stay inside a little longer.” Her words purred with emphasis. “You’re right. You’re the boss.” Stacey added, appealing to the dominant role Carter was so eager to play. “And…. Perhaps as the Boss, you should take a seat at your desk.” Her eyes twinkled with delight.
“Mmm.” Carter hummed, weighing the prospect. A show would be nice, and with the tightness in his shorts, sitting would be preferred. The smallest application of pressure between her thighs before pulling it away was his answer. Revelling in the stifled yelp Stacey made, he distanced himself.
“I think I will.” He said. The office chair had been pushed aside not long before. Upon first entering the room Carter had debated having Stacey sit in it while he leaned on the desk, watching her embrace the beautiful agony as the ‘baby’ emerged between her thighs, its gap shrunken by the leather of the chair and the gravidity of her womb. The mental image left him salivating. He pulled the chair forwards, sitting himself down facing her. The phone was on his lap, as was the obvious evidence that he was still in fact very in love with his wife.
“I don’t think you should use the desk for the next few contractions honey.” He told her. Absently the phone was unlocked, and the settings opened. Not yet. Not just yet. Carter resisted the urge to enact his plan. They needed some more fun first. “Come here love.” His wife took a moment, gathering her strength he assumed. The second her hands left the desk, they were cradling her stomach, one reaching even further to that growing mass between her covered thighs. The devious side of him couldn’t help itself. As soon as she was standing in front of him, he smiled up at her. Carter, triggered a contraction.
“W-what?” She’d only had a moment to glance at the phone before the contraction hit full force. With no build up, Carter was able to watch her body alter. Stacey was forced to double over, and he caught her, placing her hands on his shoulders. The position left him with an eyeful of cleavage and a rock hard hanging belly. With those in front of him, he had to fight to keep eye contact with her.
“Push for me.” He said. “I won’t stop you…”
But Stacey was already bearing down. The choice wasn’t hers to make anymore. Immediately her legs trembled and widened, her fingers squeezing Carter’s shoulders, and a deep primal force squeezed deliriously low. The whimpering groan in her throat transformed into a grunting sound of effort.
With how low the ‘baby’ was in her pelvis, the absurd width of her gait, she was practically standing over Carter's legs, bent forward at the hip as she braced against him during this intense contraction. Their faces were mere centimetres apart, both flushed and heavy breathing for entirely different reasons. Stacey’s mouth hung open with another push, eerily silent this time as she bore down with such focus she lost herself for a moment. The pressure was growing between her thighs, that firm and heavy weight slowly parting her body open more and more and more. She could feel every iota of progress happening beneath those tight black leggings, the skull of the ‘baby’ bulging and retreating with each individual push. After four kids already, every second was familiar, her body knew exactly what to do. It also recognised every slight change of sensations and she gasped at the end of a forceful push.
“Ughhh… c-crowning… oh god….mmmmmh…” Stacey moaned with a wobbling tone of pain and pleasure.
Carter knew she was telling the truth, Stacey’s experience was not in question. However, that didn’t prevent Carters hand from finding the evidence of that crown. His eyebrows rose slightly as he realized just how big the ‘baby’s’ head was. It was one thing to see the measurements on the app, but feeling how completely it filled his palm was a whole other experience.
“Good girl.” He told her, patting the bulge as if it too deserved praise. “Don’t let it slip back in, you’ve made so much progress.” She was finally there, the stage where she was at her most beautiful. The concern was empty, there was no chance of the ‘baby’ slipping back in. Carter enacted his plan, the role he played and his own desire for what happened folding in to become one thought. The phone screen was back to the control, where only a little while ago he’d reset her progress as punishment. What he was planning now was no punishment, it was ultimate pleasure. A single toggle, and the ‘baby’ ceased to move. No progress, no loss, its head was trapped at a full crown.
“There.” He told her. “Now it won't slip back in. But, it’s not coming out either.”
She looked confused, or simply exhausted, Carter had a hard time differentiating. Stacey was still panting as her body recovered. He felt the trembling in her fingers, and saw the shaking of her thighs. A full crown, trapped until he changed it. He sat the phone aside, bringing both his hands to her belly.
“See, I was thinking.” He spoke slowly, letting each word sink in as Stacey battled her body’s needs. “We had sex, a few times… we both had our fun and finished together. But then, just a few minutes ago, you finished, without your husband.” His grin grew wolfish. “I don’t know if it’s fair to be uneven in that, do you?”
Stacey shook her head, unable to speak, panting through the sheer fact a large ‘baby’ was at a full crown between her legs. She knew Carter wasn’t asking for penetrative sex, his hand cupping the bulge beneath her leggings meant he knew that was not physically possible. Her eyes dropped from his face, seeing the strained fabric of his trousers that were tented to the ceiling. She wanted to hold him, to bring him as much pleasure as she was feeling, but damn with the baby where it was she was hesitant to let go of his shoulders.
The app might have changed settings, preventing any progress from happening, but that certainly did not alter what she felt on a deep and primal level. The instinct to drop into a squat and push, no matter how pointless, was oh so tempting. With a trembling hand, Stacey let go of one of Carter’s shoulders and reached for his waistband. Immediately her knees began to shake and she whimpered against the urge to push.
The elastic band was pulled away with ease, as was that of the underwear he wore beneath. He was at attention already, and had been for some time, leaving no need for any foreplay or teasing. He shuddered, as her fingers wrapped around him, shocks of pleasure echoing through him.
“That’s it, Stace.” He said, keeping his palm firm against the bulge while the other rose to her cheek. She began to move, her hand making the necessary motions to give him a much needed release. His thumb probed for her most sensitive spot where it was stretched to the max around the head. He brushed against it, only then noticing her legs shaking. He excused it as her own pleasure growing from the intimacy of the moment. “That’s my girl.”
She tried to focus, to listen to the gravelled sounds of her husband’s enjoyment, concentrating on her hands as they glided up and down his length. Then his thumb ghosted her clit and she shuddered, his touch prompting a sudden contraction.
“Ohhhh… Carter…. This-might— not be a good— idea…” she breathed heavily.
The pressure between her wide legs was intoxicating and forceful, her body stretched thin and on edge, Stacey barely managed to hold back the instinct to bear down. She had one hand braced against his shoulder while the other worked on Carter’s erection, all the while her belly was an iron sphere that was contracting so hard and begging for her to push. Stacey couldn’t help but clench both her fists a little firmer unconsciously.
The firmer grip only seemed to invigorate him more. His chest was rising and falling with speed, each pump bringing him closer and closer to the edge of climax. This wasn’t a typical vice of theirs, but dammit he was enjoying it. He brought his index finger to her lips, still too immersed into the role to actually take in the weight of her words and look. She was just playing the part, and doing incredibly good. His lust filled gaze met hers, and he felt the beginnings of his body’s crest over the peak. He pressed harder against her clit, lost in the moment and unable to comprehend the gravity of such an action.
“Don’t worry.” He said, struggling to keep his voice level. “This is perfect.”
“B-but.”
Carter leant in to kiss her, the only sure way to prevent anything more from escaping her lips. He felt her pace quicken, and their tongues began a dance within their mouths. He grabbed her breast, closing his eyes as the two of them enjoyed the moment. He was so close, so very nearly able to release the pent up pressure within his loins. She was holding him a little tighter now, and he couldn’t help wondering in what way she was playing her role. Her jaw quivered against his, a sharp exhale of breath into his mouth. She was no longer pumping, she was simply standing, breathing.
“O-oh. Ohhh!” She groaned. He knew that noise, more specifically, he knew what came immediately after.
His eyes opened, only to see hers shut tight, teeth clenched. A fraction of a second later, pain hit him and he was forced to cry out in alarm. Her knuckles were white around his shaft, squeezing it with such ferocity that any thoughts of pleasure or even roleplay disappeared in an instant.
“Stacey?! Ah! Stacey!”
“Can’t. Stop!” She grunted, words barely forming as her growls of effort tried to force the baby out.
He quit fondling her breast, and tried desperately to loosen the vice on his erection. Her stomach was shrunken, this contraction far more intense than what he’d ever set. Any chance of the analytical side of his mind figuring out if there was something going on with the app was squashed along with his manhood under his wife’s grip. He tried to apply counter pressure to the baby’s head, hoping that it might get her to relax, but what he felt as pressure was applied made his eyes widen. Despite the app pausing the progress, and despite her body being stretched to its limit, the head was shifting, her primal efforts combined with her body’s need to expel the child within actually overwrote the programming of the app. She was making progress, the bulge in her leggings moving millimeter by millimeter.
“Stacey! Stop pushing!” He hissed. Her grip couldn’t be loosened, and he could only imagine how much worse it’d get if she kept going.
“It’s— it’s coming out—!” She gasped, unable to stop the actions of Mother Nature.
The contraction was a tsunami of pressure. There was no fighting or denying it, all Stacey could do was ride it out. But her hand was wrapped around her husband’s appendage when the wave struck, rooting her to the spot, unable to move or loosen her grip or do anything besides push. Carter’s noises of agony shocked her, it matched the fiery pain between her legs. With her eyes closed she couldn’t see what was happening, or even think beyond the realm of her own existence. The only thought in her mind was to push. And push hard.
Carter desperately reached for the phone. With the contraction only worsening, there was no way for her to finally let go until it was over. He grabbed it, opening the app with speed and quickly hitting the button to cancel the contraction. He heard Stacey gasp, and felt her weight press on him as the peaked contraction ended as fast as it had begun.
“Easy.” He encouraged, pain still in his voice. “Easy…” Carter rubbed her stomach, already able to tell that she was recovering simply from how her breathing was normalizing.
The contraction ended but the throbbing pressure of the full crown lingered. It took quite a few breaths to fade to a point where she could speak or move.
“I know that one was rough, and I hate to kill the mood but… d-do you mind loosening your grip a bit baby?” He looked down at his shaft, all the blood practically choked out of it. “I don’t think a vasectomy was in the plans for tonight.”
“Oh…. Oh my god Carter…” Stacey stuttered, finally realising the full effect of what just happened. Immediately her fingers loosened, her hand pulling away quickly. “Shit. I’m sorry darling, I didn’t mean to, I just…. that contraction was insane.” She felt so guilty, accidentally nearly castrating her husband was certainly not how they wanted the evening to go.
“I couldn’t stop pushing, everything just got so… primal or something.” She was still panting heavily, her legs still bent wide over his lap, miraculously the crown between her legs momentarily forgotten with her worry for Carter’s well being. “Are you okay honey?”
“I’m ok, Stace.” Carter couldn’t help the chuckle that came. This was all so ridiculous, and clearly they’d been so caught up in the moment that consequences of their actions became moot in their minds. “Just want to make sure I can give you a real baby when the time comes.” He made a show of checking to make sure that he was still in possession of his appendage, then tucked it away into his pants. As soon as it was away and safe from Stacey’s frankly frightening grip strength, he returned his attention to her.
“Seriously, it’s ok.” He smiled. To show her that he was in fact fine, he leaned in and kissed her. “No hard feelings. Well, besides down there.”
Her worried expression formed a slight smirk. Playfully she pushed at his shoulders, stepping back ever so slightly and straightening up. “Carter! I was really worried, I thought I’d hurt you.” Relief flooded her heart. Not only did she not want her husband to be injured, but she too was thinking of future real babies to add to their brood. Neither of them wanted that to be taken off the cards.
The unplanned ending to Carter’s hand-job really took the pair out of the moment, fantasy having been quickly swept aside. But their evening wasn’t over; Stacey was still fully crowned with this simulated baby. A fact her body was all too eager to remind them both.
As her womb clenched abruptly again, in spite of the app’s settings, she spun around to brace the desk edge. “Oooohhhh… this.. this baby wants out… Carter….” She moaned deeply, leaning forward, giving an impromptu perfect view of her backside for her sitting husband.
“Shit, ok, ok we got this.” The roleplay was gone, the pure sexual bliss along with it. But they remained, a couple who found more joy in these kinds of moments than anyone could have dreamed. The app was forgotten, and it was like they were trying to deliver one of their own children again. Carter took hold of her hips, appreciating the view for a moment. Thumbs dug into her flesh, massaging in the exact spots he knew would count. The head was right there, her leggings left nothing to the imagination.
“No more holding back Stace.” His tone was that of a husband and father, encouragement dripping from each word with ease. “I want you to push for me ok? I’m right here, you know what to do.”
“R-really-? I can p-push?” Stacey’s words were barely cohesive through the desperate panting she was making. With how the last contraction had gone she was doing her damndest to hold back, not to let her body give in to the primal surge to deliver.
“No more roleplaying honey. Let’s get this baby out.”
With a shaky inhale, Stacey gripped the desk edge and spread her feet wider on the floor, opening her pelvis that necessary fraction more. She was silent at first with the pushing, then louder and louder the grunting strain of effort rattled her throat. It was right there, so fucking close and stretching her beyond anything she remembered. Carter’s hands pressed against each ass cheek, blissful counterpressure for her widening hips. One…two…pushes, each one bringing progress but seemingly not enough for the head to fully come out. The leggings. Damn it.
Stacey groaned, frustrated, and took a long deep breath. This time her whole body shook with effort as she bore down with a fierce goddess like energy. Suddenly the head burst free into the gusset of her leggings and she cried out with sheer relief and slumped over the desk with exhaustion.
He saw it coming, Stacey’s elbows rested on the desk as the head burst from between her legs. Her leggings were stretched thin, the fabric nearly allowing him to actually see the artificial baby through it. Before the inevitable occurred, Carter scooted forwards in the chair, bumping into the back of her knees with his. It took her by surprise, but in one fluid motion his wife had gone from standing precariously on the verge of collapse, to sitting in his lap, legs spread wide.
“Hey there pretty lady.” He said, wrapping an arm around her gravid body to make sure she wouldn’t slip off of him. “There’s a baby hanging between your legs, love.” The baby wasn’t real, none of this really was, but even so Carter felt the sting of emotions at the idea that they’d have another baby in their arms soon. Gingerly, he took hold of her hand, and reached it down between her quaking thighs. “Right there Stacey. It’s right there.” His thumb caressed her hand as they both touched the head.
Her chest was heaving, trying to catch her breath back. It was difficult to reach around her still present bump but Carter’s warm hands ensured they reached the destination. Beneath the stretched jersey there was an incredibly large sphere between her legs. “It’s… it’s huge….” She laughed through her heavy breathing. “I didn’t think I selected too large a baby but this… this head feels bigger than any of our kids.”
Stacey felt safe and at home in her husband’s arms, comfortable and familiar, albeit with a ‘baby’ half born from her body. Arguably that was an accurate reflection on the couple's lives. Her head tilted back, turning to nuzzle his chest and neck, inhaling him. Their hands stayed between her legs as she mumbled with quiet content. “Shoulders… starting to… press down…”
“Perfect timing.” He told her, his smile making the whisker on his cheek brush against the skin of her forehead. “How about we try one last little enjoyment with this?” He let go of her hand just enough to tug on her leggings. There was no way to remove them currently, not that either of them wanted that anyways. He simply pulled them to the side, allowing the baby’s head to rest to the right, giving an easier path rather than directly into the seam.
“Think you can pant the baby out? You did all the hard work getting the head, relax yourself, the hard part is over.” He planted a kiss on her temple. He couldn’t help thinking that this was more intimate a moment than any other they’d had today.
“Mmmmmh…. I can try…. Hooo okay… here it comes…” Stacey swallowed, readying herself as much as she could. Without any input from the phone, which was long discarded, her body squeezed familiarly. Muscles tensing and contracting, clenching around the rest of the ‘baby’ that was nestled in the birth canal. Naturally her hips began to rock in time with the rhythmic spasms of her body, soft moans through breathy exhales erupting from her chest.
“Uhhhh… ohhhh I can feel it babe! Oooohh I’m not pushing but it’s moving down… ohhh god….” Stacey’s breath got quicker as one shoulder stretched her sensitive opening, the temptation to push with the pressure was enticing but apparently not necessary as she jolted slightly when the first shoulder slipped free.
“You’ve got it!” Carter moved her hand, bringing it to the side where the second shoulder was emerging. Even without being able to see, he knew exactly how it looked. The head, sliding along her thigh, stretching her leggings as the shoulders pushed out behind it. With a gentle nudge, he pressed against the baby, just enough to have the second shoulder pop loose. He felt her jump, and a second later the relieved exhale that came from the biggest ordeal a woman could face drawing to a close. The ‘baby’ slipped out, filling her pant leg and leaving them both awestruck.
“Holy shit.” Carter muttered, half chuckling, half crying. “We just had another baby.” Instinct fought him, a need to check on the wellbeing of the newborn. Such instincts melted away as two things happened. Carter watched, as Stacey’s stomach began to deflate, becoming the same as it had been only this morning. As unsettling a sight that was, it was nothing compared to the next. The ‘baby’, which had not made a sound upon coming into the world, simply began to shrink. “Holy shit…” The words were quiet, his brain having trouble processing such a thing.
Stacey’s hands went between her legs automatically. By the time they got there the ‘baby’ had shrunk so much there wasn’t much more than a tennis ball size shape behind her leggings and that promptly disappeared. All that effort, all that straining and pushing, and there was nothing there. This was a stark difference for the mother of four.
As if a switch clicked in her mind Stacey pulled at the waistband of her leggings and her hands dived into her panties. She slowly pulled it back out with a tiny pill placed between her index and thumb. “That happened… that happened quicker than I expected. To be honest, I didn’t read up much about what happened after, got too carried away with the pregnancy and birth instructions.”
She lifted to their eyeline. It was the first time Carter actually saw the pill for what it was, Stacey had inserted it before he’d got home from work. “It’s crazy that this one pill… could do all of that.” She said in quiet awe. Her breathing was slowly coming back to normal, her stomach returned to its usual slightly rounded shape. Her husband was quiet behind her. “Are you okay?”
“More than ok.” He said. “We got a little carried away eh?” He laughed, holding her tight to him. He felt like he could sleep for days, and if that was how he felt, he could only imagine how exhausted she was. They remained in the chair for a while longer, not daring to seperate after such an ordeal. If he was honest, not having a newborn to cuddle with after the birth was a disappointment, but such feelings would ebb as soon as the kids were home. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his wife.
“I think the app has a few glitches.” He told her after a while being quiet. “I’m excited to see what others we might be able to find. Maybe later tonight…” Carter traced his finger across her stomach. “We can test out that twins option?”
“Tonight? Ha. I think we’d need longer than what’s left of this evening for twins.” Stacey laughed, turning to face Carter and kissing him softly. “But I am very excited for us to do this again and find more uses for this pill.”
What’s going on, bunnies? Week 65 drop is written for my favorite birth fic writer, @shhhsecretsideblog ^^ Hope ya’ll enjoy this public birth story ^_~
Word count: 4641 words
Summary: A heavily pregnant woman labors through a black-tie charity gala with her wife, both of them savoring the thrill of keeping her advancing labor a secret from three hundred oblivious guests until the baby refuses to wait any longer.
Content Warnings: MDNI. 18+ only. Contains hidden/secret labor, consensual birth denial, labor in a public setting, clothing birth...
I've posted the full uncensored warnings in the Vault to make sure this update doesn't go against the community guidelines of Tumblr ^_^
"Dance with me."
Sienna looked up, and for one unguarded second, the mask slipped and Margaux saw the effort, the concentration, the deep burn of a contraction pulling her features tight.
Then Sienna took her hand and rose from the chair, smooth and poised despite the enormous, gravid swell between her hips that shifted her center of gravity forward and forced her to brace one hand against the table as she stood.
"You look incredible," Margaux said, sliding her arm around Sienna's waist.
"I look like I'm going to deliver a baby on a dance floor."
"Exactly. Incredible."
Sienna laughed, breathy and full, and then her hand clamped down on Margaux's shoulder as another contraction rolled through her, hard enough that she had to stop walking and breathe through it while Margaux held her upright. "Haaah... hoo hoo hoo... haaah..."
"I've got you. Lean on me."
"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's passing..." Sienna blew out a long breath and straightened, squaring her shoulders, and let Margaux guide her onto the floor.
Margaux pulled her in close, one hand pressed flat against the small of her back and the other resting on the side of her belly where the emerald fabric stretched tight and warm.
She could feel everything through the satin, the hard, massive curve of Sienna's uterus, the way her abdomen turned to stone during each contraction, the low tremor running through her core as her body worked to bring their baby down.
Margaux began to sway, a slow, gentle rocking motion, and Sienna followed, letting her hips roll into the movement.
"That's it," Margaux said against her temple. "Let the music cover you."
"Mmm... hoo hoo..." Sienna's fingers dug into the shoulder of Margaux's tuxedo jacket, bunching the fabric.
"They're getting so much stronger. I can feel the head right against my cervix, and every time a contraction comes, it pushes lower."
"How low?"
"Like, right there. Right at my opening." Sienna's mouth pressed against Margaux's neck, and her words vibrated against the skin. "I can feel myself starting to dilate around it. The pressure is unreal."
Margaux's hand shifted to the underside of Sienna's belly, cradling the massive, hanging weight of it through the gown, and she felt how far the baby had descended since that morning, the swell sitting full and heavy in Sienna's pelvis, so low that the bottom of her belly nearly grazed the top of her thighs when she moved.
"You're close."
"I know I'm close. I've done this enough times to know what close feels like." Sienna pulled back just far enough to look Margaux in the eye, and her pupils were blown wide, her lips parted, a flush spreading down her neck and across her chest.
"I feel like I need to push."
The words hit Margaux in the center of her chest, and she tightened her hold on Sienna's waist. "You're going to wait."
"Margaux..."
"Look at me." Margaux's voice dropped, soft and absolute, the tone reserved for labor, for the delivery room, for the car, for the bedroom floor.
The tone that Sienna responded to like a reflex. "You're going to breathe through it, and you're going to wait, because I'm telling you to wait. Do you understand?"
Sienna's lower lip trembled, and a small, breathless sound slipped out of her, caught between a moan and a laugh. "God, you are so bossy when I'm in labor."
"And you love every second of it. Blow the air out, come on. Hoo hoo hoo."
"Hoo hoo hoo... hhhaaa..." Sienna panted the sounds into Margaux's collarbone, her body swaying with the music, her belly pressed between them so tightly that Margaux could feel each contraction building and cresting as clearly as if it were her own.
The band played on.
Couples swirled around them.
Three hundred people drank champagne and laughed and danced, and every single one of them was completely unaware that the beautiful pregnant woman in the emerald gown was deep in labor, fighting the urge to push, held in place by her wife's arms and her wife's voice and the pure, electric thrill of their shared secret.
"Good girl," Margaux breathed against her ear. "Keep breathing for me."
"Nnngghh..." A guttural groan vibrated through Sienna's chest, and Margaux felt her bear down, a full-body clench, her abdomen going rigid, her thighs locking together, every muscle below her waist contracting in one powerful involuntary push.
Margaux pulled her tighter, wrapping both arms around her, containing her.
"Blow it out. Hoo hoo hoo. Don't push."
"I'm trying... haaah... Margaux, my body is doing it on its own, I can't... hoo hoo hoo... nnngghh, I can't stop it..."
"Yes, you can. You've done this six times, and your body answers to you. Blow through it. Override it."
Sienna pressed her face into Margaux's neck, and her hips rocked forward in a slow, involuntary grind that she masked as a dance step.
Margaux guided her through it, swaying, turning her body so that Sienna's back faced the nearest table of guests.
The contraction held for a long, brutal stretch, and Sienna's breathing fractured into short, strained bursts against Margaux's throat.
"Talk to me," Margaux said when it finally released. "What are you feeling right now?"
"Oh god..." Sienna exhaled, shaking. "The head is right there. Right in my birth canal, pushing down, and my cervix is opening around it, I can feel every single centimeter.
And every contraction makes the head press harder against my opening, and I swear the only thing stopping this baby from coming out is sheer willpower and the fact that you told me to hold on."
"And you're holding beautifully."
"I am losing my mind, Margaux. I am in full-blown labor on a dance floor surrounded by three hundred people and I have a baby's head pressing into my vagina, and you are slow-dancing with me like we're at prom."
Margaux laughed against her hair. "Best prom I've ever been to."
"NNNGGHH... oh god, oh god, here comes another one..." Sienna's entire body locked up, and her face buried into Margaux's chest, and the sound that poured out of her was deep and guttural and barely muffled by the tuxedo fabric.
"Hnnnggg... aaahhhh... it's pushing down, it's pushing out, I can feel the head bulging against my underwear..."
The band picked up the tempo, and the floor flooded with more dancers, bodies pressing closer on all sides, which meant more cover and more noise to mask her breathing, but also less room, and Margaux could feel Sienna losing control of it now, her hips rolling in waves that had nothing to do with music, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding back, her breathing dissolving into ragged pants between each contraction.
"Margaux." Sienna gripped her lapels and looked up at her, and her eyes were glassy, wet, desperate.
"I need to push. I really, really need to push. My body is bearing down whether I tell it to or not, and the head is stretching me open, and I can feel it pressing into my underwear so hard that I think it's about to come through."
Margaux cupped the back of Sienna's head and pressed their foreheads together. "How much longer can you give me?"
"Minutes. Maybe less. This baby is coming, and it is coming fast."
----
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Linda shifted. By her side, her husband seemed absorbed in Pastor’s Jeff discourse.
Her lips hurt from how hard she was biting them.
If being overdue and pregnant in summer was hard enough, being overdue, heavily pregnant and in labor in a church with no AC was the true hell she would heard talk about in church.
An awful night of sleep followed by an uncomfortable morning with an aching back didn’t keep her from going to church, like every Sunday. She thought maybe it was just summer and pregnancy, maybe those weren’t contractions.
Now she was more than sure.
But so she did put on one of her last sundresses that still fit and got into the cramped and awful car.
The pastor was preaching about sin and sinners, and Linda was only half listening to the words and half staring at the time on her watch. Inside her, there was a hope that she could finish listening to the sermon and head to the hospital, or at least somewhere where she could somewhat give birth in a more decent place.
God, even her car seemed like a better idea than the church.
She tried to remain straight in the bank, to remain still and to focus all her devoted attention on the Pastor’s words, but the weight of her baby getting lower and lower on her hips was quite distracting.
Her hands left the bible to reach under her gravid, contracting, belly, breathing through her nose as she rubbed.
Cheating wasn’t technically a sin, lust was. Pastor Jeff tested her faith, and she failed.
She had a moment of weakness, betraying her marriage and her family, and now the consequences of her actions was hanging low and tight in front of her and between her legs.
Linda was completely sure that Pastor Jeff knew what was going on—since the moment she started to show his eyes couldn’t leave her body, he grew even more fond and protective of her.
No one questioned her when she stayed at the church for hours, always with some excuse at hand, and when she announced it, everyone congratulated her husband.
They should have congratulated Pastor Jeff.
“Oh, Lord…” Linda whined lowly, moving her hips forward as another contraction took over her.
By her side, her husband shot her a side glance. His hand moved to her thigh, gripping harshly to keep her still.
“Honey…” leaning against his ear, Linda breathed through gritted teeth, “I think we should head to the hospital now.”
Her husband’s grip on her leg tightened, and he didn’t even bother to turn to face her when he spoke. “We’ll leave when the sermon is done.”
“But…”
“We’ll leave when the sermon is done.”
Sweat dripped down her back, and she was sure Jeff knew what was going on. The Pastor’s eyes moved from the bible in front of him to her huge belly, staying there more than necessary, before they travelled to meet with her husband.
Linda was sure both men shared a sneaky smirk.
***
Thank God she was at the very front because the wet patch that stained her sundress and the amniotic fluid that dropped down her legs would definitely get some raised eyebrows from the church ladies.
Linda held a moan, forcing her legs to press against each other tightly. The baby’s head was coming down her birth canal fast and surely.
Every contraction made her feel so nauseous and she had to clench her teeth to stop herself from screaming. There was a primal urge to push forming in the back of her mind that she wasn’t so sure how much more she could ignore.
“And now….” Pastor Jeff said loudly, smiling at Linda’s discomfort, but Linda didn’t smile back.
“Thank God it’s over…” Linda muttered to herself.
“… I want to invite one of our oldest members, Gladys, to come up here and share some words” Pastor Jeff continued.
The pastor turned around, nodding for Gladys to start.
Breathing through her mouth, trying to calm down, Linda stared as Gladys made her way to the front, slow as fuck, the better she could with her cane.
Good Lord, this was gonna last forever.
***
“God is very serious about adultery” Pastor Jeff began, again. He paused, turning to look at Linda.
Her cheeks reddened. Both, because she was embarrassed by what they’d done, and because she was trying not to push.
A sharp pain hit her lower back and suddenly she was hunched over, holding her gravid stomach.
The baby was so low that it felt like it was about to be out of her any second. She didn’t want that.
Her husband’s hand gripped her arm, forcing her to sit upright again. Linda tried to close her legs again, moving a hand under her dress and into her panties.
Her fingers felt the baby’s head as soon as she got there, stretching her lips. She hid a gasp, pressing her palm against her pussy to keep the head in place.
She couldn’t give birth, not here, not now!
“Fuck!” She moaned as the head spread her lips, even more, threatening to come to a full crown.
Everyone turned to stare at her, giving her questioning glances. That baby was coming, no matter how much she tried to keep it from happening.
“Good God…!” She cried, feeling the head coming out against her hand.
With a scream, shutting her eyes and gripping at the bible in her hands, Linda pushed. The head came to a full crown into her panties, making Linda’s leg shake as she pushed her hips forward, allowing herself to push.
Her head shook between Pastor Jeff and her husband in desperation, and she saw the lust in Pastor Jeff’s eyes and the indifference in her husband’s.
“Adam… help me, damn…!” She shouted, her body pushing against her wishes, the head still sliding into her panties.
“God takes cheating very seriously, Linda,” Pastor Jeff continued, staring directly at her this time.
As much as she tried not to push, to no avail, her body was pushing with every contraction and the baby’s head was suddenly out.
She couldn’t hear his next words, using all her focus to pull her panties down and push.
“I think that you have learned your lesson this time. Next time, try to remain far away from those satanic practices!”
Linda heard the words and then she buckled her hips forward, moving down to a squat on the floor. The shoulders came out with a gush of fluid.
“Ughn… God!” Linda grunted, closing her eyes shut and pushing.
Under the shared smirk of her husband and Pastor Jeff, and the horrified gaze of the rest of the church, Linda screamed her baby out, saying in vain the name of the Lord many times.
Prompt: A pregnant gynecologist has been in labor all day but continues to perform exams. Finally with her last patient her water breaks and she needs to push. She has the patient move off the exam chair so she can climb into the stirrups to birth, while instructing her half naked patient how to help her deliver.
This ask was sent a while ago, and it's an amazing idea, anon! Sorry for taking so long, but if your seeing this, here goes a little story for ya!
Anna knew her craft.
Her eyes closed shut, hands gripping the armrest of her chair, and another exhale escaped her lips.
"Dr Brown?" Alice, the shift nurse, peeked her head through the door. "Next patient is here."
Anna knew her craft. She was in labor. And she knew she should have taken maternity leave quite a while ago.
But she was sure, well, more hopeful than sure, that those babies were gonna stay there at least until the end of the day.
She knew her craft. She knew that labor could take days.
"Yes. Thanks." With a hand under her gravid belly for support, Anna stood up from her desk with a groan.
She was so heavy lately. Heavy, hot, and bothered, and sensitive everywhere.
"Be good for mommy and stay in there, you two" she muttered, rubbing her tight stomach.
Inside her, her twins kicked, causing her to whimper. They're impatient today.
"Have we dropped already?" the annoying voice of Dr Bloom called, making Anna turn around.
From behind, her huge belly was unnoticeable, but as soon as she turned around, her state was painfully obvious.
The view was almost comical, to watch her waddling along the halls, so heavy and so full that the honorable Dr Brown was reduced to a shameful expecting mommy.
Since she got pregnant, everyone lost respect for the image of the cold and arrogant Dr Brown.
"Not yet, Dr Bloom".
Anna didn't like him.
From the first day she got pregnant, the inappropriate and unwanted attention this man gave her became more and more. And increasingly annoying.
He had to learn to mind his own business.
As she rolled her eyes, her knuckles turned white as she gripped the clipboard in her hands, a particularly hard contraction taking over her.
Oh, uh.
"Ah, oh…" She breathed, looking for her next patient in the waiting room. "Rosa Martínez. Come… in… please."
A woman, as gravid looking as Anna herself, waddled into the consulting room.
Once again, the view was almost comical. Her belly was as big as her patient's, hanging low in front of her as Anna waddled into her office.
The door closed behind her with a click. When Anna sat down at her desk, a small gasp escaped her lips.
The weight of one of the babies sliding down her pelvis took her by surprise.
Anna knew her craft, and she knew that wasn't a good sign.
But she knew and loved her craft —a workaholic for some— and you really can't argue with an addict.
She could, she was going to, ignore all the signs to stop and continue with her day. Nothing could go wrong.
She was in a hospital after all, and she knew her craft.
"Oh, damn…!" cursing under her breath, Anna's eyebrows forward as she leaned against the counter of reception.
Her stomach tightened with another contraction, her back arching as her hips rocked slightly in the air.
Looking around for a moment making no one saw her like that, Anna took a deep breath.
Her contractions were becoming more intense. Closer and faster.
"Everything alright, doc?" Alice raised a questioning eyebrow, staring down at her boss.
"…yes." Anna lied, a slight smile on her lips as she looked straight into her eyes, both her hands moving to the underside of her belly, looking for relief. "Just come cramps. I must have… ah.. ate something bad."
Alice, totally not convinced —who would believe her? Anna looked ready to pop any second now, those babies ready to get out of her any second— nodded, letting her know that her next patient was ready.
When the contraction finally went away, Anna let out a relieved sigh and stood up. "Let her in."
Sitting down was another experience that became uncomfortable. Anna was unable to find any comfort in those hospital chairs, her back was always killing her and her belly was always pressing against her desk, no longer able to sit comfortably in her own office.
Her white robe couldn't hold her enormous belly anymore, so a while ago she just gave up trying to look that professional — not that the buttons would have allowed it without popping — but today, she regretted wearing such a tight shirt under her uniform.
Was it always that tight? Or today her breasts were just too sensitive and her belly was that tense?
She wasn't sure. She only knew that she was hot and uncomfortable, unable to sit straight without feeling an awful pressure in her pelvis. And if she could, she would strip down right there, right now.
"So…" Anna breathed, typing away at her computer. "Any weird stuff happening lately?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," her patient smiled, rubbing her belly before pointing at Anna's belly. "You know how it is."
“Oh, yes, totally…!" Her words drifted off as a contraction hit her, a whimper escaping her lips loud enough to make her patient frown. "Oh, I definitely…. know."
As she tried to catch her breath, her babies didn't give her a moment of rest.
The feeling of one of the baby's heads so, so low in her pelvis, as if it was a minute away from falling out, made her let out a small moan.
"Dr…?" Her patient asked, furrowing her brows. "Is everything alright?"
"…ugh…yes. Yes, don't… worry." Anna huffed, trying to stifle a moan behind a smile. "Just cramps."
Her patient nodded, reaching out to search for something in her bag, and Anna was glad that the other woman couldn't see her face.
Because as soon as Anna moved to accommodate in her seat, a gush of water soaked her pants when her water broke.
She let out another small moan and covered her mouth, leaning back in the wet chair.
"Well… that's all…" Anna breathed, one of her hands moving to rub her belly as the other gripped around the arm of her chair. "…for the day. I'll see you next time, Rosa."
It was an agonizing slow minute as her patient gathered all her stuff, put on her jacket and stood up to leave for the door.
Every step that woman gave increased Anna's desire to let herself scream, moan, breathe, anything that could help her with her contractions.
When the woman finally closed the door behind her, Anna throw her head back against the chair and let out a loud moan. Her hands reached inside her pants and her soaked panties, sliding inside her to check her dilatation.
Oh, those babies were so close.
Another sharp pain shot through her body, and Anna feigned to stand up, but the door opened as soon as she tried to. Another heavily pregnant woman peeked at her, before quickly shutting the door after walking inside.
Anna was still holding her breath as her patient sat down, apparently unaware of the whole situation the doctor was going through.
Without pleasantries, the woman in front of Anna raised an eyebrow. "Shall we start?"
"Mhm…God…" Anna muttered under her breath, before looking up at her patient from her chair. "Well, everything… fuck… looks great here."
"Alright," the woman, with her legs up in the stirrups and busy with her phone, nodded. "Great"
Anna moaned, wiping away the sweat accumulated on her forehead and biting her lip.
The baby was so, so low, almost starting to crown.
She could feel the head on her birth canal, pushing against her vagina, stretching her lips slowly by the second.
She was trying so hard not to push, she only had to keep it together until this patient left and then she could… oh, fuck, she was pushing!
Fuck, shit!
Biting her lips as hard as she can she thought she would draw blood, Anna tried to keep herself from pushing. But as soon as the contractions hit her, her body would do it without consulting her first.
"Mrs Williams?" Anna breathed, standing up with shaking legs. "For our next step, I will…. need you to… mhnm… get down from there."
With terrible slowness, the woman in the stirrups made her way down, landing heavily in front of her doctor.
"Fuck", Anna panted, bending over as another contraction hit her. "Fuck, God…!"
Anna rushed to swap places with the woman, letting out a loud moan as she made her way up the small steps that led to the examination table.
Mrs William stared at her with a frown, confusion written on all her features.
"Mrs William… I'm gonna… ughn!" Anna moaned, bringing her chin to her chest as she moved to take her pants off the best she could. "I'm giving birth. And I… fuck! Please, help me!"
Her patient mouth fell open, staring at Anna's crowning vagina, legs up in the stirrups and her contracting belly now uncovered, letting little detail to the imagination.
Mrs William stammered, shaking her head as she shrugged. "I… I don't know!"
"Please, ma'am…!" Anna groaned, letting out a shaky sigh as another contraction came.
But Anna couldn't wait, neither the first of her babies, because once again her body was pushing and with a moan and Anna's collaboration this time, the head of the first baby started to crown.
"Ahhh, God. Fuck! Mhm!" Anna groaned, breathing loudly and pressing her chin to her chest as she pushed. "Just… ughn… catch the head!"
As much as Anna wanted to not have this baby here and now, it was coming here and now. It was all happening too fast, her body was pushing against her wishes and the head was crowning quickly.
And Anna always thought that she would have a slow birth.
"Agh!" with a whimper and another push, the head finally came out of her, and Mrs Williams' hand was there to catch it.
Anna couldn't really mind, because her mind was filled with the urgency of pushing this baby out. Two more pushes, a low grunt and a moan, and the shoulders were making their way out.
"You're… you're doing good…?" Mrs William encouraged, her hand still holding the baby's head in shock.
"Tha… ugh… nks" Anna grunted, taking a deep breath. "Thanks. Just one… more… big push…"
"And it'll be done!"
With a groan, Anna pushed with all her might. A small cry was heard as the baby landed on her chest, brought by the careful hands of Mrs Williams.
Breathing deeply, Anna looked down at her newborn.
"It's a girl…" Mrs William muttered, staring at her hands now covered in birth fluids "…I think so."
"Yes…" Anna breathed. "A girl. Sorry… for… this, Mrs Williams." the doctor sighed, shaking her head as she lifted her blouse to let the baby cling to her engorged breasts.
"Yeah, sure…"
Anna was about to say something else when another contraction stopped her. The head of her second baby was starting to crown, way faster and more urgent than their sister.
Includes: home birth, dilation checks, vaginal delivery, sex during labor, consensual filming during labor
Sam and I hadn't been trying for long when we found out we were pregnant. Well, I was pregnant, he really hadn't done much as I kept reminding him. He would laugh and tell me how I was right, that it wasn't fair I was doing all the hard work and the least he could do was oblige my late night cravings.
He put so many miles on that car getting me fast food, running to the store, and even finding odd cravings at farmers markets when I would sleep in despite promising I would join him this time. I'd wake to a note and my favorite cereal ready for milk to tie me over.
We had decided on a home birth after we did a lot of research and conversations with my doctor. Both of us had been born in a home birth and wanted the same experience for our baby.
Labor had started early in the morning, and Sam called out of work to let them know it was go time. I was so grateful he was there from the start, not knowing if I would have waited hours to call him if he was at work and close to the end of his day.
Sam was an excellent labor partner, encouraging me to listen to my body. As my labor progressed, I could tell he was getting more excited. I was too, though the excitement was interrupted by pain that I knew would just continue to build.
Letting out a gasp, I stopped my pacing, that was the strongest one yet.
"Breathe, my love." Sam rubbed my back as I leaned against him, and I fought to hold back my sarcastic comment that if I wasn't breathing it would be really difficult to stand.
"It's over" I start pacing around our living room again, Sam hot on my heels.
"5 minutes apart." he announces, looking up from a stop watch. "You're doing so well. Do you want to lay down at all?" I shake my head and place my hands on my belly, rubbing it gently as if to tell the baby to go easy on me.
I made two more laps around the house before another pain seized me, bringing me almost to my knees.
"I think you should take a break from walking." All I could do was nod and follow him to our room after the pain let up.
He adjusted the pillows before helping me lay back. My robe opened, I had only loosely tied it so the movement must have been enough to spread it apart. Just like I would soon spread apart. I shuddered at the thought.
"Are you cold? Do you want me to tie the robe again or get you a blanket?" He rubbed my arms through the sleeves of the robe before watching me shrug them off my shoulders.
"Actually, I think I need the freedom to move without anything." He helped me remove the robe entirely, lifting me up slightly to remove the parts I was laying on. I could tell he was turned on by my nude appearance, though he was clearly trying to control himself and focus on me. I smiled and looked down at his shorts.
"I guess these shorts aren't as loose as I thought." I laughed as his erection showed visibly against his waistband.
"That dick is what got us into this mess, how fitting it would make an appearance at the resulting child's birth." You knew the home birth without a midwife was partly because the idea has turned you both on, but this was the first time it had really come up since your contractions had started.
"It would become even harder if you let me check your dilation. It's time anyways, Mira said once the contractions got to 5 minutes you are considered in active labor."
Mira was one of our neighbor and was a retired midwife. She offered to help with our birth, though understood we wanted it to be intimate. She has trained Sam a bit on what to expect and also how to check the dilation. He had enjoyed that lesson and asked to practice often before the birth. According to him, he wanted to be sure he would get it right, though by the way his cock swelled each time I knew it was more than that.
"My contractions should be getting longer too, I think." I tried to think back to Mira's handout I had long since lost, but I was gripped by another contraction just as Sam spread my legs for the exam.
I felt him rub my inner thigh as I took deep breaths, hands rubbing my stomach and eyes closing to concentrate. Finally, the pain passed and I opened my eyes to my husband's loving gaze.
"You are a goddess my love." He leaned in and kissed me, chest pressing into my swollen stomach. After a brief kiss, he pulled away and pushed open my legs a bit more.
"I hope this is over soon, I just want to meet our baby." He laughed and grabbed the bottle of lube from the bedside table.
"I wish I could take the pain away my love, I really do. But you're so sexy like this, heavy with my child and making the most adorable faces as the baby draws closer to entering the world."
I watch him squirt the lube into his hands and rub them together. Then he spreads my folds and enters me slowly. I breathe in and pretend this is just for pleasure, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation as his fingers near closer to my cervix.
"You are doing so well, I'm so proud of you." His free hand rubs my leg as he reaches your cervix, trying to measure like Mira showed him. "5 centimeters, halfway there!" He pulled his hand out and wiped it on a nearby towel.
"Would you help me get on my hands and knees? I don't want to get stuck on my back and slow anything down." He nods and grabs my arm.
"Plus I get to see your cute little ass in the air, maybe even swaying side to side."
He finishes helping me adjust, and positions my ass towards the edge of the bed. Taking his suggestion, I sway side to side as another contraction grips me. I hear him check his phone and announce that this one was only four minutes after the last.
I hear him adjust his clothing, his shorts dropping to the ground. Once the pain passes, I look back and see him stroking himself. I roll my eyes and shift backwards a bit, rubbing my ass up against him. He moans and grips my hips, pulling them flush against his.
"We have, what, four ish minutes until the next contraction?" I laugh and shake my hips back and forth, bringing another moan from his lips.
Gripping my hips tighter, he leans down and kisses my back. I moan as I felt him rub against my entrance, not pushing in just yet and instead teasing my folds apart and gliding over my sensitive bud.
"Sam... that feels amazing," moaning, I try and push against him to allow him in. He resists and draws out the pleasure, using a hand to avoid entering just yet.
"Patience my love. Good things come to those who wait." He trails his kisses down my back, one hand still guiding his tip around my folds.
"Sam!" He hits a particularly sensitive spot and he chuckles deeply, enjoying hearing my cry in pleasure instead of pain for the first time since the contractions started.
I feel him slip inside, moving up the canal our baby would soon be descending from. He moves inside so slowly at first, enjoying the feel of my warmth surrounding his manhood. His hands moved from my hips to the sides of my stomach, enjoying the kick from the baby inside at his presence.
"Daddy's here princess." He rubbed my stomach and I moan, loving the feeling of him soothing the child squirming inside me.
"What about for his Queen?" I try to look back, but at the same time he dips down and presses a kiss to the place his right hand was just resting.
"Oh, I intend to give her the royal treatment." His kisses trail from my stomach to my my round backside.
It's hard to stay still, and I move my hips in time to his thrusts, feeling his hands remain on my ass as he picks up the pace. I close your eyes and focus on the sensations and the sounds of our lovemaking. Faster than we both would like, I can tell he is already fighting his climax. However, considering how close together the contractions were it was likely for the best, and I can already feel the next one building when we both peak. His hand reaches around and strokes my clitoris, intensifying my climax as he buries himself deep and I feel his warm seed flooding my womb.
When we both regain our breath a moment later, I quickly lose mine as the contraction I felt building hits me with full force. Sam's hands come to my hips as he supports me swaying side to side in an attempt to disperse the pain. Silly as it seems, I am beginning to try anything to dampen the contractions wracking my body.
"I probably didn't help with the intensity much, Mira mentioned semen can soften the cervix. Can I do anything to help you through the contraction?" I shake my head and breathe through the end of the contractions, just grateful for the momentary reprieve. I grab a pillow and lean my front half, or at least everything above my swollen middle, onto it. Turning my head to the side, I pat the bed beside me my husbands face come into view as he lays down next to me.
"I can't believe before the end of the day we are going to be parents." I watch as a wide grin appears on his face.
"Yeah, they really should make sure parents are mature enough before letting the procreate. We have no idea what we're doing, and I still make fart jokes at least twice a day." Now I was grinning back at him, amused that the fart jokes were the main reason he thought he was immature.
"Well, first of all, I doubt there would be many babies born if they only let mature people have them, and second, if we were having a boy instead of a girl I think the fart jokes might actually be in the criteria of a good parent." He laughs and nods.
"True! I definitely got the best ones from my dad and brothers. You think we'll have a boy next?"
"Next? Can we focus on getting this one out of me before we think about the next one you'll put in me?" He laughs again and rubs my back, eyes looking directly into mine.
"Of course love, anything you need. I'd be happy with all girls anyways, as long as they are just like you"
"I have a feeling you will take that back in a few years, but I am going to hold you to it so no take backs." His grin somehow gets wider and he kisses me gently before pulling back a loose strand that had come out of my pony tail during our love making.
"Next time you change positions, I'd like to check you again. The contractions seem to be coming faster and I'm wondering if Mira's comment about the semen softening the cervix sped things up in terms of dilation as well. Do you have any idea of what position you plan on moving to?"
"Actually yeah. It may be better for you to check me first though. I'd like to try the birthing ball, with you sitting on the edge of the bed facing me so I can lean up against you." Luckily our bed was close enough to the ground I would be at about equal height on the ball as he would be on the bed.
"Whenever you are ready, let me know."
"After this next contraction." He nods and watches my face through the next contraction as he continues to rub my back.
Once the contraction ends, he helps me lay back against the pillows. After ensuring my comfort, he spreads my legs and grabs the lube again.
"Your semen will probably be enough lube, but I appreciate you trying to make it as comfortable as possible for me." He smiles and rubs the lube between his fingers, trying to warm them up a bit so they aren't as cold when going into me.
"Anything for you. Now take a deep breath." I breathe in and feel him part my folds and enter me, probing deeper until he finds my cervix. Slowly, he withdraws and wipes his hand on a towel.
"Any progress?" He nods excitedly and strokes my inner thigh.
"7 centimeters! Your getting so close honey, she's almost here." He kisses me deeply and rubs my belly.
"I'm going to wait out the next contraction here. Can you get the birthing ball in position for me?"
I watch him retrieve the birthing ball from the corner and bring it to the edge of the bed. After positioning the ball, he kneels down and kisses my stomach until the next contraction starts. The longest contraction so far took my breath away, and I struggled not to cry out at the pain. My hands went into Sam's hair, somehow calming me as I tried to remember how to breathe. His lips continued pressing against the stretched skin of my belly and I closed my eyes to focus on all the sensations.
"I have never seen you so beautiful. You are doing so well. I still can't believe you're mine. I am the luckiest guy in the entire world. You've made me a father, and..." I can tell he's fighting back tears as his voice breaks.
"Sam..." He looks up at me and smiles. The same smile that made me fall in love with him. One I had seen so many times before, and yet every time it still felt so special. As if I was the only person in the world that mattered.
"You did, you made me a father. I may have contributed a bit at the start but you carried her and now you'll bring her into the world. You trust me to guide you through that process, and I can't tell you how good it feels that you trust me that much." His grin turns seductive as cups my cheek and purrs "and I can't wait to hold your legs open as you crown with our baby."
I feel myself grow wetter and bite my lip.
"Any more talk like that and I'll be too wet to sit on the birthing ball without slipping right off." He laughs and helps me into the ball.
Minutes tick by as my contractions become longer and more intense. Suddenly, the ball becomes slick with fluid as I realize my waters have broken. I look up at Sam and know I need to get back into the bed and fast, this baby isn't waiting for us to be ready for her.
It's difficult but we manage to get me back onto the bed, which is now covered in layers of absorbent cloths and a puppy pad or two my sister had donated after her dog was potty trained a few weeks back.
Sam helps me position the pillows between contractions that now hardly let up as I gripped the ropes we had attached to our ceiling above the bed. Mira had said some women enjoy having something to pull against as they push, and women used to use birthing ropes a lot hundreds of years ago.
I leaned back against the pillows as Sam took his place between my legs.
"I love you so much." He gave me a quick kiss on the lips before parting my legs and reaching for the lube.
"If you love me you wouldn't have given me such a...." I took a moment to pant before finishing "big ass baby"
His look was apologetic, but I could see the wicked desire in his eyes as he had always enjoyed the longer births when we had watched videos to prepare. We both enjoyed them, but he did like the intense ones more than I did.
He parted my thighs further apart, instructing me to relax them as much as I could, and pushed two fingers inside. I could feel him taking a bit longer this time, perhaps to double check what we both had suspected.
"Go time. When you're ready, give me a big push. Remember, we don't have neighbors close enough to complain so let it out."
I hadn't made much noise so far, but I knew I was reaching the point where the pain would climax to a place where sounds may just emerge without me consciously deciding what to say or do.
I bear down, grabbing the ropes and pulling as I felt the baby descend. A strange feeling, though I hoped by the slowness of her descent I wasn't going to tire too quickly.
Sam rubbed my inner thigh as I pushed a second and third time, feeling her continue to descend at a slow pace. Thank goodness I didn't have a higher up cervix, it was taking all of my strength to move her barely an inch. I knew other positions would help her descend faster, and we could use those if needed, though Sam had hoped to watch her and film once she started crowning.
His hands were rough as he opened my legs father apart, and I was grateful he had us practice this often so I didn't feel too much of a stretch. The additional openness did help as the next few pushes brought her nearly to crowning. I took a breather as Sam set up the camera he had prepared on the tripod earlier, and positioned himself back between my legs as the next contraction began.
"Remember the ring of fire, this will be intense but it also means she's almost here. I've got you and you are so strong, but listen when I tell you to let her stretch you so you don't tear."
I nodded and reached down, feeling her head just inside my entrance. I took away my hand and grabbed the ropes once more, doubling my effort to push until I felt the burn. The scream tore from my lips as I tried to fight Sam's hands holding my legs, wanting to stop the crowning while also knowing that was my only escape from the pain.
"You can do this." He grabbed a water bottle from the bedside table and squirted my entrance, which helped with the burning during the next few pushes. I didn't notice him biting his lip as he watched the head push forward slowly, making a teardrop before retreating when the push ended.
I hadn't made enough progress with that contraction, and we made eye contact before I nodded, signaling to him he was free to rub my nipples to make the next contraction stronger and hopefully bring her out and keep her out.
The stimulation brought the pain hard and fast, and I cried out as I pushed through the burning. I let the pain fuel me, wanting it to be over but also knowing I couldn't go too fast or she'd tear me open.
The ropes strained against the metal fastening on the ceiling, holding but seemingly annoyed at how hard I was using them to bring the head to a point where it no longer retreated when I paused. I looked gratefully at Sam, knowing the intensity of the contraction was worth it to bring her into the world.
I didn't need Sam to slow me, as her head was large enough I made slow progress. The burning continued, helped slightly by the water Sam applied. The screaming also continued, partly for Sam's benefit and partly for relief.
When she had reached the widest point I reached down again and felt her eyes and nose slowly push into my hand. Smiling at Sam, I was able to push her head free and breathe deeply for the first time in hours. My work was far from over, but I knew I was almost there.
"She has so much hair" Sam fought back tears at the first glimpse of his daughter, and his hands gripped my thighs as he held me open to the widest I could go to allow her shoulders to finish her entrance into the world.
It took several contractions worth of pushing before I felt the first shoulder pop out, then the second. In many of the videos we had watched, the baby would come out entirely right after the shoulders, but not ours. I fought through several more contractions and finally looked at Sam to grab her as she completed her entrance into our lives.
"She's beautiful, just like her mother" Sam shut off the recording after placing her on my chest and kissed me deeply.
"She's really here." I said to him in amazement as his forehead pressed into mine.
"I am so proud of you. I can't wait to see you do that again" He kissed my cheek as we both looked down at our daughter crying on my chest, a perfect blend of both her parents.
Read a fic on here where a woman sat on her husband's lap while she labored and gave birth and unnnh god damnit now it's all I'm imagining. I would love to give birth that way but on my wife's lap instead ;) I sit facing her, and she holds me but plays with my clit and pussy between contractions to help me orgasm and open wider for our baby. OMG.
The sixty-eighth floor of Mercer Consolidated held a silence that was both a reward and a taunt. Sloane Mercer stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, a sleek silhouette against the bruised purple and orange of a city sunset she hadn’t seen in weeks. Her custom suit jacket was off, draped over the back of her chair like a conquered flag. Her silk shell was plastered to her skin, not with the usual stress of a hostile takeover or a plummeting stock, but with a fine, relentless sheen of sweat.
She’d been feeling them since the first conference call at 7:14 AM. A low, deep thrumming in her lower back that coiled around to her abdomen like a fist. She’d timed them, of course. Sloane Mercer timed everything. By noon, they were six minutes apart. By the three o’clock board meeting, where she’d verbally dismantled a dissenting shareholder, they were four. She’d simply spoken through them, her jaw tightening, her knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the mahogany table, her voice never wavering.
She was forty-two weeks and three days overdue. The baby, her obstetrician had said with an incredulous shake of her head, was “a robust size.” Sloane had dismissed the term. She was a woman who dealt in precise data, not euphemisms. Now, the data was becoming insistent.
“Ms. Mercer?”
Sloane turned from the window. Her secretary, Lilliana, stood in the doorway of the executive suite, her purse already on her shoulder, her expression a careful blend of professional deference and barely concealed anxiety. Lilliana was in her late forties, a woman of quiet competence who had seen three other CEOs come and go. She was not easily flustered. But she had been watching her boss all day—the way she’d gripped the armrests during the merger review, the way she’d snapped at the caterer for a glass of ice water with such ferocity the poor boy had nearly dropped the tray.
“You’re still here,” Sloane said. It wasn’t a question.
“I was waiting for you to finish. You have the quarterly forecasts in your briefcase, and I wanted to make sure you had the hard copies before—” Lilliana paused, her eyes catching the way Sloane’s hand pressed, almost involuntarily, against her lower belly. The pregnant belly that seemed to have dropped even since that morning, sitting low and heavy against the straining fabric of her charcoal pencil skirt. “Before the weekend,” Lilliana finished, her voice softer.
Sloane straightened, “I’m fine. Just some Braxton Hicks.”
It was a lie, and they both knew it. This was not the mild tightening of false labor. This was a force of nature. The last contraction had bent her nearly double, forcing a guttural sound from her throat that she’d disguised as a cough. She could feel the baby’s head, a granite boulder, wedged so low in her pelvis that every step felt like she was straddling a knife’s edge.
“Let’s go,” Sloane commanded, grabbing her briefcase. She wouldn’t be wheeled out. She wouldn’t have an ambulance called to the lobby. She would walk out of her building, get into her car, drive to the hospital, and deliver this child with the same surgical precision she brought to a leveraged buyout. That was the plan.
They walked to the bank of executive elevators, Sloane’s pace measured and deliberate. The fluorescent lights of the hallway seemed to pulse in sync with the pressure building inside her. Lilliana walked a half-step behind, her hand hovering near Sloane’s elbow, not daring to touch but ready to catch.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft, luxurious chime. Sloane stepped inside, her back ramrod straight. Lilliana followed, pressing the button for the lobby. The doors closed. The car began its smooth descent.
Then, with a jarring lurch that threw them both off balance, it stopped. The lights flickered once, twice, and then went out, replaced by the sickly yellow glow of the emergency battery.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Sloane breathed, the profanity a sharp crack in the sudden silence.
Lilliana was already pressing the emergency call button, her face illuminated by the panel’s dim light. “No response,” she said after a long moment. She pulled out her phone. “No service. We’re between floors. The emergency line is probably rerouted after hours.” She looked at Sloane, her calm professional mask now showing a hairline fracture of genuine fear. “It’s just us.”
Sloane didn’t answer. Another contraction was building, not as a wave, but as a shift. She dropped her briefcase, the sound echoing in the small, steel-lined tomb. Her hands flew out, one slamming flat against the polished brass railing that ran along the wall, the other clutching the front of her skirt as if she could hold herself together. Her legs, in their expensive heels, began to tremble.
“Ms. Mercer?” Lilliana’s voice was sharper now.
“I said I’m fine,” Sloane gritted out, the words a lie forged in fire.
She turned, leaning her back against the railing, hoping the solid metal would brace her. It didn’t. Her body had its own agenda. A primal, undeniable instinct was overriding every command her highly trained, disciplined mind was giving. Her hips began to sway, then to rotate, her body seeking a position that was ancient, not corporate. Her knees started to bend, her thighs widening as her body began to sink.
With a sound of tearing fabric, the back seam of her pencil skirt gave way, the material scrunching up her thighs. Her legs moved apart, her feet sliding on the slick marble floor until she was in a deep, instinctual squat, her body braced against the railing. It was the position of a woman about to give birth, and her body had found it without her consent.
“No,” Sloane whispered, the first hint of real fear entering her voice. “No, not here.”
A surge of pressure, unlike anything she’d felt all day, detonated in her core. There was a sudden, gushing release of fluid, a warm cascade that splashed onto the elevator floor, running in rivulets between her heels and soaking the hem of Lilliana’s trousers. Her water had broken.
“Oh, God,” Lilliana said, her composure finally shattering. “Sloane, your water just broke. We have to get you sitting down, or lying down, we have to—”
“I said I’m FINE!” Sloane roared, the sound primal and raw.
But she wasn’t fine. The breaking of her waters had removed the last buffer. The pressure didn’t ease; it magnified into an overwhelming, inescapable need. It was a need to bear down. A need to push.
Her body took over. A guttural groan escaped her as her diaphragm locked and her abdominal muscles contracted with a force that felt like a car wreck. She pushed. Her face turned crimson, the veins in her neck standing out like cords. Her grip on the railing was so tight her knuckles were bloodless.
“Oh my God, you’re pushing!” Lilliana cried, rushing to her side. “You can’t push! The baby isn’t—”
But the baby was. Sloane felt it—a blinding, searing burn that ripped through her as a massive, unyielding presence descended. She looked down, her vision blurry with tears of pain and exertion. Through the soaked, delicate silk of her nude-colored panties, she could see it. A distortion. A bulge. A head.
Lilliana saw it too. Her face went pale. “I see the head. Sloane, I see the baby’s head.”
Another contraction seized Sloane, and she bore down with a scream that was torn from the very core of her being. It was a furious, animal sound that echoed off the metal walls. She felt herself stretch, a ring of fire that was a cruel understatement. This was a maelstrom of agony. The head descended further, crowning in the sodden fabric of her underwear. And then, as the contraction ebbed, it retreated, slipping back just a fraction, a torturous game of advance and withdrawal that was pure, unadulterated hell.
“It’s… it’s retracting,” Lilliana stammered, her hands hovering uselessly. “Sloane, the head is so big.”
It was monstrous. Sloane could feel every millimeter of it. This was not a delicate, demure birth. This was the passage of a massive, round object through a space that was not designed for it. She could feel her own flesh tearing, a deep, stinging burn that was secondary to the overwhelming pressure of that colossal head. It felt like her hips were splitting apart.
“It’s stuck,” Sloane hissed, the CEO’s composure replaced by a warrior’s grimace. “It’s stuck, Lilliana.”
Lilliana moved into action, her training as a mother of three overriding her panic. “I need to see. I need to get these off.” With shaking hands, she reached for the waistband of Sloane’s ruined panties, the delicate silk soaked with amniotic fluid and blood. She pulled them down Sloane’s straining thighs, letting them fall to pool around her heels. The sight that met her made her gasp.
The baby’s head was there. Not a glimpse, but the full, terrible glory of it. A massive, perfectly round skull, covered in a thick mat of dark hair, was emerging from her boss. It was the size of a small melon, stretching Sloane’s flesh to its absolute limit, the skin a taut, purplish membrane. The head was turned, one ear and a sliver of cheek visible, looking like something from a medical textbook come to horrifying life.
“It’s right there,” Lilliana said, her voice now steady with purpose. “On the next push, you have to give it everything, Sloane. Everything.”
Sloane could only nod, her jaw clenched so tight she thought her teeth might crack. The next wave of pressure began, not as a slow build, but as a sudden, catastrophic peak. She sucked in a ragged breath, then bore down with a force that obliterated everything else. The world narrowed to the burning ring of fire between her legs.
She screamed. It wasn’t a refined, controlled sound. It was the raw, primal cry of a woman being torn in two. She pushed, and pushed, her thighs trembling violently, her squat deepening until she was nearly sitting on her haunches. She could feel the head rotating, stretching her to a point she was certain would be her physical undoing.
“It’s crowning!” Lilliana shouted, her voice a beacon. “The head is crowning! One more! One more, Sloane!”
With a final, guttural roar that used the last dregs of her strength, Sloane Mercer pushed. She felt an explosion of agony, a crescendo of burning pressure, and then, a sudden, shocking release. The massive head was born.
It emerged in a gush of fluid, a perfect, round, impossibly large globe that Lilliana had to cup in her shaking hands to keep from dropping. For a moment, Sloane slumped against the railing, her body going limp. She was shaking uncontrollably, her legs threatening to buckle. The worst was over. The head was out. But the body… the body was still inside, and she had nothing left.
“Sloane! Sloane, the shoulders,” Lilliana urged, her eyes wide. “You have to push again. The shoulders are still inside!”
Sloane looked down. The baby’s head, slick with blood and vernix, was cradled in her secretary’s hands. Its eyes were closed, its face smeared. It was so close, yet so far. Her body was screaming, a quivering mass of exhausted flesh. She had no more screams left. She had no more pushes.
“I can’t,” she gasped, the words barely a whisper. “I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can,” Lilliana said, her voice fierce. She knelt in the puddle of fluid on the elevator floor, supporting the baby’s head. “Look at me, Sloane. You are the strongest person I have ever met. You built an empire. Now, you just have to push. One more time. For your baby.”
Sloane looked at Lilliana, then down at the head of her child, the life she had been carrying for so long. A new kind of fire ignited in her chest, not of agony, but of fierce, unyielding determination. She gripped the railing with renewed ferocity. She took a breath that shuddered through her entire frame. And she pushed.
It was a slow, agonizing push, born of pure will. Her thighs quaked, the muscles screaming in protest. She felt the anterior shoulder rotate, wedged beneath her pelvic bone, a final, excruciating barrier. She pushed again, a low, sustained groan that seemed to go on forever. And then, with a sudden, slippery rush, the rest of the body slithered out.
One shoulder, then the other. The torso, the hips, the legs. Lilliana guided the child, her movements sure and steady, as the entire baby emerged into her waiting hands, a long, perfect, wrinkled creature trailing a glistening cord.
The elevator was silent for a beat, filled only with the sound of Sloane’s ragged breathing and the soft, wet gasps of the newborn. Then, a thin, reedy cry cut through the air, quickly swelling into a robust, indignant wail.
Lilliana was crying, tears streaming down her face as she lifted the baby, checking the cord wrapped loosely around its neck—it wasn’t—and placing the squalling, perfect infant onto Sloane’s bare chest.
Sloane sank down, her back against the railing, her legs finally giving out. She slumped to the wet floor, her body a wreck, her hair plastered to her face. She looked down at the child, her child, a tiny, furious thing with a misshapen head that was already beginning to round out, a thick cap of dark hair, and a voice that was making its demands known to the world.
Her hands, still trembling, came up to cradle the slippery, warm weight. A laugh, half-sob, half-exultation, escaped her lips.
“Hello,” she whispered, her voice cracked and raw. “You have your father’s lungs.”
Lilliana was beside her, shrugging off her own cardigan to drape over the baby, her hands gently rubbing the infant’s back to help it breathe easier. She was laughing and crying at the same time.
It was another forty-five minutes before the emergency services, alerted by a building engineer, managed to pry open the elevator doors. They found the scene: a CEO, disheveled and exhausted, cradling a newborn against her chest, sitting in a pool of amniotic fluid on the floor of the executive elevator. Her skirt was torn, her silk shell ruined. And kneeling beside her, keeping them both warm, was her secretary, Lilliana.
As the paramedics rushed in with blankets, clamps, and oxygen, Sloane looked up at them, her eyes holding the dazed but triumphant look of a general who had just won a brutal, unexpected battle. She looked down at the now-quiet baby in her arms, then at Lilliana.
“Lilliana,” she said, her voice regaining a sliver of its usual command. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
Lilliana just laughed, the sound thick with relief. “Yes, Ms. Mercer.”
Sloane leaned her head back against the cool elevator wall, her legs still trembling, the deep, tearing ache in her body a testament to the ordeal. The massive, round head that had nearly undone her was now nestled peacefully against her skin. She had made it. They both had. And she had done it on her terms, in the last place anyone would have expected, stuck between floors, in the heart of her empire.
whining that i dont like condoms and i want to feel you raw inside me 🥺 you can just.. pull out? right? yea.. you wont lose control, right at the end, when im kissing you and gripping your shoulders, and i start crying fuckfuck your cock is gonna make me cum- and you feel it pulsing nd squeezing all around you. you wont want to push all the way in, to let my orgasm milk the cum out of your cock, root to tip. balls pumping it all into my womb until my belly is full and leaking 🖤
Except I really don't want you pulling out in time. I know how hard it is for you to pull out and I had forgotten to tell you that I just so happen to be ovulating.
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