mpregnerd

[mpregnerd]

When out for a walk, wear a tight tee to thirst trap those belly lovers. 😜

[mpregnerd]

[mpregnerd]

Not just a big belly… 🫢 wanna see more? Come support me.

[mpregnerd]

[mpregnerd]

[mpregnerd]

My husband and I have been together for over 15 years now, and we are still going strong! So strong in fact, that even at our ages (34 and 35) I was still surprisingly able to get him pregnant! We had a son before 10 years ago when I first got my husband pregnant (left) and now seeing him currently pregnant again (right) and with a much bigger belly really turns me on. Maybe I’ll try for a third after he gives birth in a few days.

[mpregnerd]

[mpregnerd]

Finally back over 260!

New video tomorrow on Patreon! 😋

http://patreon.com/widthtimesdepth

[mpregnerd]

What would you put in here? 🤔🫃🏻

http://Patreon.com/widthtimesdepth

[mpregnerd]

MPREG SERIES CXXVII | CRAVINGS

Rahim always thought the idea of craving pickles while pregnant was a cliché and told himself before he got pregnant he would never give in to such a trope. Fast forward to his third trimester; his belly was full of baby and pickle brine from all the pickles he kept indulging on. He was finally willing to come around and admit that maybe he was too harsh to judge beforehand.

Check out the new CRAVINGS set over on Instagram why don't ya ;) https://www.instagram.com/mpregoneverything/

[mpregnerd]

Still trying to get massive...poor shirt

Insta: ginklub1993

[mpregnerd]

Looks like he could go into labor any minute now. Would love if someone could write a story about this image

[mpregnerd]

Father Henry, pregnant priest.

Not only did he baptise his parishioners' children, he carried many of them over the years

[mpregnerd]

Breathing through a contraction.

[mpregnerd]

Finally back over 260!

New video tomorrow on Patreon! 😋

http://patreon.com/widthtimesdepth

[mpregnerd]

MPREG SERIES CXXVI | POLAROIDS

Was the 'BEEF' shirt a little on the nose? Yes, but Frankie didn't care. He knew his boyfriend would enjoy this polaroid for years to come, tucked away in his wallet well after the birth of their first born.

A new set to try and make up for the lack of posting lately, I hope y'all enjoy!

CHECK OUT THE FULL SET HERE NOW!

[mpregnerd]

He Sent the Photo Right Before It Started

Part 1:

I wasn’t expecting to get a text from him. Not after the way he left that morning.

But there it was. [1 Attachment] “You forgot this, Daddy.”

The photo nearly made me drop my phone. He was laid out on our bed, in that threadbare white t-shirt, belly huge and tight like it could pop with one good thrust. One hand holding his phone. The other in his curls. Mouth open. Jeans unbuttoned. Sweat blooming beneath the curve of that swell.

I could almost hear the little pant that must’ve come right after the shot.

I didn’t even type a reply. I hit call.

“Y—you liked it, huh?” he answered, breath hitching like he already knew. “You gonna come back and finish what you started?”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll be through that door before you can reach around that belly.”

He whimpered. Fuck, that sound. “’S gettin’ hard to reach around it,” he whispered. “It’s so full, Daddy. You made it this big.”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not picturing you squirming on the sheets right now, whining because you’re so goddamn full?”

I heard fabric shift. Skin. Fingers moving. “You left me leaking,” he said, voice low and dirty. “Still wet from last night. I can feel it dripping when I move.”

That was it. The blood rushed south. I was already unbuckling my belt.

“Touch yourself. Rub that belly while you do it. I want to hear you fuckin’ moan.”

“You gonna—oh, god—gonna talk me through it?”

“No. I’m gonna come watch.”

I kicked open the front door less than 10 minutes later.

He was still in the same spot, one leg bent, shirt rolled under the curve of his belly. His hand was inside his open jeans, working slow. He looked up at me and licked his lips like I was dessert.

“You like the photo?” he panted. “You want me to send another while you watch me come?”

I dropped my bag, crossed the room, and crawled onto the bed like a man starved.

“No,” I growled. “I’m gonna give you something to film next time.”

My hand went straight to the belly, pushing gently down. He gasped, cock twitching.

“You feel how tight that is? How fucking full you are?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I’m not stopping until you scream. Flip over.”

“But—ahh, it’s so heavy—I can’t—”

“Then keep those legs open and let me fuck you like this.”

And I did.

I took him rough, one hand under his back, the other cradling the belly I’d bred to bursting. He moaned through every thrust, begging, crying, choking on his own gasps.

“Tell me you love being this full.”

“I love it—I love it so much—fuck, I wanna stay like this—never stop—”

The orgasm ripped through him, full-body, loud and raw, belly bouncing, cock spurting untouched. I followed, growling into his throat, biting down so hard he’d have a mark tomorrow.

When it was over, he smiled through his tears.

“You better send me the next photo,” I muttered, still buried inside him, hand resting on the belly.

“I will,” he whispered. “When the contractions start.”

And fuck if my cock didn’t twitch again.

Part 2:

“Daddy, I—fuck—it’s starting.”

I froze, buried to the hilt inside him, both of us drenched in sweat.

He clutched my forearm with one hand, the other sliding down to grip the underside of his belly. His thighs trembled under mine, stretched open, slick and spent.

I looked at him.

His lips were red and bitten. His eyes blown wide. The kind of look a man gives when something big is happening—and not just in his hole.

“You sure?” I rasped, breath heavy in his ear. “You feel it?”

He nodded. Whimpered. Then smiled.

And that smile wrecked me.

“Don’t stop.”

“You’re contracting.”

“I know.”

I pressed one hand to the belly—his whole body tensed like a livewire. I felt it. That first tight pull. Shallow. Rhythmic. Real.

My cock twitched inside him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” I growled.

“Please,” he whispered, hips rocking helplessly. “Keep going. Wanna come while I labor. Wanna feel you while he drops.”

I could’ve come right there.

Instead—I pushed deeper. Slow. Deliberate. One hand cradling his belly, the other gripping his throat, gentle but firm.

“You’re such a good boy,” I murmured. “Carrying so fucking heavy. Letting me keep you like this.”

He cried out. His back arched.

“Daddy—he’s pushing down—I can feel him.”

I fucked him through it.

Every contraction hit like a goddamn wave. I never pulled out. Not once. Just gripped that belly and gave him everything—filthy praise, messy kisses, the kind of stretch that made him sob between moans.

He came again when the next contraction hit. Hands over his belly. Body shuddering.

“I want you to come inside me,” he begged. “Again. While I’m opening up.”

“Fuck, baby—yeah. Yeah, I’ll fill you. One last time before we meet him.”

I buried my face against his neck and came hard. Full. Deep. Locked against that belly like I could keep him pregnant forever.

He fell asleep in my arms, belly still tight, body trembling. And that phone? Still in his hand. Camera open.

Waiting for the next photo.