Same Boat
words: 1415
content: birth denial, fpreg
Danae would do anything for her partner. Their dates were always doting and private. With her menacing tattoos and biceps like knotted wood in her cuffed sleeves, she’d scared away any men looking to prey on her pretty little girlfriend. Even when she was pounding her with a thick strap, she always prioritized Leah’s preferences, made sure she was happy and drooling and sweetly stroked.
Their simultaneous pregnancies didn’t change anything. Danae was still Leah’s fiercest protector, even as her abs slackened and swelled, and her masculine body lost some of that refined muscle. Sure, it was a little hard to get around sometimes with that belly, but nothing Danae couldn’t handle.
When it came time for Leah’s labor, Danae did everything she could to make their home comfortable and relaxed. Candles, a hot bath.
“You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Leah laughed, holding her own prominent swell.
She wore one of Danae’s old workout shirts and a slim pair of panties. The way the fabric stretched and slipped around her navel was an undeniable turn-on.
Danae smirked. “Anything for you, princess.”
She tried to avoid touching or stroking her own belly. For the past couple days it had been twinging with sympathetic contractions. She’d kept stoic through them, at pains to not stress Leah in any way before her birth.
The strongest contraction yet had Leah clinging to Danae, mousing her hands through her short locs. Their bellies were pressed together, both flexing, hard with contractions. Danae held Leah in her thick arms, bearing her own contraction soundlessly.
“Uhhhmf,” Leah groaned, sobbing. “There’s so much pressure, baby!”
“I know, baby,” Danae said, a little breathless. She massaged Leah’s overburdened back. “Breathe, now.”
“Ohhhh, oh, I CAN’T.”
Suddenly, fluid soaked both of their thighs. Leah’s legs trembled, weak and slender. Danae supported her, firmly grounded.
Danae left Leah squatting in the living room as she made her way to the kitchen, trying, failing to conceal her pronounced waddle. She returned with towels and dried the mess. On all fours, she suffered another contraction. What she hadn’t revealed to Leah was that not all the birthing fluid had come from her; Danae’s own water had broken. Her eyes widened slightly as her belly tensed beneath her—this contraction was accompanied by the strong urge to push.
Fortunately, Danae was stronger. She gritted her teeth and mopped up the rest of the puddle as the urge pounded through her. Every muscle in her body surged with effort and willpower.
Leah grunted. “I gotta push, baby! Oh, shit! I gotta push so bad!”
“Urgh. Hold it in,” Danae said through gritted teeth. She was speaking to herself just as much as she was speaking to her girlfriend. Sweat beaded at her temple. “Hold it in. Gotta check you first.”
Leah closed her eyes, managed through it with panty grunts. Her legs were permanently spread in a deep squat now. As though a switch had been flipped, she suddenly began to remove her shirt, hiking it up over her belly, then her head. Fully nude, her body glistened. She glimmered in a haze, heavy and feminine.
Danae was overcome with the same desire to strip, broiling in heat, her body sensing the closeness of the baby in her canal. She resisted, remaining in her tight undershorts and sports bra.
Danae positioned the towel under Leah, though her own knees were sore and could have used some relief. She painstakingly braced herself on one knee, dropped stomach resting heavily on her broad thigh.
“God,” Leah breathed, head thrown back. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be,” Danae said, quickly checking her. “I’ve got you.”
Her pussy was familiar as ever, as was Danae’s fingers inside her. She felt Leah’s slick vaginal walls clamp down on them.
“Ooh, I gotta push!” Then, squeezing— “Gotta—I’m PUSHINGGGG! Mmmfgh!”
“You’re good, baby,” Danae said, removing her fingers. She was still kneeling as Leah squatted deeply before her, bottom thrust in her face. Danae’s belly went hard again, as though encouraged by Leah’s furious pushing. Her face snarled and twisted, piercings raising and she flared her gums. The urge to push washed over her again.
Not yet, she thought. Don’t push yet.
Despite her efforts, her body was beginning to bear down against her will, slowly inching the baby through her canal.
Somewhere, dimly in her mind, Danae was in wonder. We’re feeling the same urges, the same stretch, the same weight. It was as though their bodies were one.
Eventually, Leah’s perineum began to bulge, red and irritated, then the head slipped into her pussy.
“Ooh!” She cried. The head was spreading her cheeks.
“Ugh,” Danae grunted. “Good—hrgh—good girl.”
She cupped the head. Birthing fluids spurted and dripped around it as Leah squatted into another groaning push, forcing the head to a full crown.
The sound of relief as Leah pushed was too much. Under Leah’s din, Danae quietly succumbed to her own body. She pressed her lips together, straining, giving in. Her powerful push immediately thrust the baby down between her hips. God, the head was huge. Leah’s hips had widened over the course of her pregnancy, something Danae had delighted in, but her own pelvis remained somewhat narrow, barely wide enough now for the coming head. Danae couldn’t worry about hospitals or stuck heads now, though. Even as she bore down against her tightly wedged baby, she kept her hand on Leah’s crowning pussy as the baby slowly parted and bulged her lips, spreading her open. Leah moaned, bending her knees, scrabbling for any bit of leverage. The skin of her pussy grew taut, an enraged red, then almost white. She would tear if it ripped through any further.
“Baby, you gotta—shi-i-it—you gotta slow down,” Danae demanded between her own pushing.
“I CAN’T, I can’t!!” Leah howled, so Danae pressed back into the crown, gently holding it in place as Leah pushed uncontrollably.
At the same time, Danae heaved with a huge, forceful push. Her well-muscled body exerted like a machine. She finally let loose a deep groan as she bore down, and the baby creaked and opened her pelvis. A wet bulge grew in her undershorts. They tightly contained the crown. Held fast, Danae and Leah were in the same boat.
“Let it come, ohhhh, please let it come out,” Leah was moaning.
Her pussy was stretching properly now, the blood returning to its color, and only at the end of her push did Danae realize this. She cursed herself, guilty for forgetting Leah for even a moment. She eased the counterpressure from her hand, and Leah screamed the head out.
“Check—ing—cord,” Danae gasped.
“Hurry,” Leah panted, mouth open, lolling her head.
Danae held her own pussy as she checked with one hand. Her undershorts were working in her favor for the time being, preventing the trickling crown from growing any wider.
“You’re good, mama,” she grunted. “Push our baby out now.”
Leah shuddered as the shoulders rotated. She shouted, and with a douse of birthing fluids the baby slipped into Danae’s waiting hands.
“Holy—shit, mama!”
Leah sank to her knees and took the baby, cradling. She looked up at Danae tenderly, smiling tiredly as their baby began to suckle.
Her eyes widened.
Danae had raised herself from her knees to a solid squat, thighs tensing, shorts tented with a crowning head. Her belly thrust hard on her midsection, and milk stained her sports bra. Even as she bore down like a warrior, she’d never looked more proud.
Then her eyes met Leah’s. She managed a smirk. “Guess it’s my turn now, huh?”
