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If you aren’t a father this Father’s Day come here and let me fix that for you.

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no woman has ever been hotter than when she’s massively swollen with a man’s child.

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The Vault - Week 21 - Opening Night (+ Life updates)

Hey bunnies! So sorry for the late posting, I'm still at the hospital at the moment I will share why in Ko-fi. But here is week 21 and I really hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it:

Word Count: 3,068 words

Summary: An opening night performance takes a wild, unforgettable turn when the line between acting and reality dissolves right on stage.

Author’s Notes/Warnings: MDNI. 18+ only. Contains explicit sexual content, labor, childbirth, pregnancy kink, clitoral stimulation during birth, orgasmic birth, public birth and public sexual acts. All characters are adults. Reader discretion advised due to the intensity and kink-focused narrative.

Mae grips the headboard, sweat sliding down her neck, body trembling as another wave of pressure floods her. She wants to flip onto all fours, to turn and push with gravity on her side, but the script has her flat on her back, knees bent, legs wide and bare beneath her bunched-up skirt. The lights glare down, her belly—a massive dome of real and padding—rises and falls with every breath, a spectacle for the front row.

She glances at the wings, panic pulsing through her as the truth sets in. There’s no after party, no solo drive to the hospital. This baby isn’t waiting for the final curtain.

Mae’s breath catches, eyes wide. “Bill, I—hoo… God—Bill, it’s right there, I can feel it, it’s—ohhh, hoo, haaa—” Her voice cracks, desperate and real.

Bill stays beside her, hand never leaving hers, but his lines are laced with a new urgency. “Alright, June. We’re almost there. You tell me if it’s time. I’ll do what I can.”

The next cue comes—he’s meant to check her, just as they’d rehearsed. Nate slips his hand beneath her skirts, still playing the dutiful husband for the audience. But the moment his palm slides up, he feels something solid, swollen, and hot. It’s not just stuffing—it’s Mae, her pussy bulging with the weight of the baby, skin stretched and trembling. He freezes, breath stuck in his throat.

He lifts his hand higher, pressing gently to her real belly—firm, round, and tightening in his grasp. A bolt of shock and arousal rockets through him, thickening in his pants. He meets Mae’s eyes, searching for the line between act and plea.

Mae can’t hold back a whimper, her thighs quivering, the fullness between her legs nearly unbearable. She looks at Nate—no longer just Bill—and her eyes beg for help, for mercy, for anything. She shifts, and her thigh brushes against the growing bulge in his trousers. Her eyes widen, cheeks flushing, mouth open in shock and a dark thrill.

The audience holds their breath, the silence broken only by Mae’s heavy panting and the soft sound of fabric shifting. No one can see under her skirt, but every body in the theatre is leaning in, tethered to the electric tension.

Nate quickly pulls out his hand, covering his own surprise, and snatches the drape from the prop chair, spreading it over Mae’s knees. He leans in, voice low and commanding—both for the play and for her. “Alright, June. It’s time. I need you to push for me. Right now.”

Mae lets out a shaky sigh of relief, her whole body trembling. She grabs his hand, nodding, breath ragged. “Oh, thank God. Hoo… haaa… I need to—I have to—haaah—” She draws her knees back, body open, her sounds turning wild as she finally gives in.

Her belly tenses, sweat dripping down her chest, her voice rising in a chorus of guttural, desperate moans as she bears down, pushing with everything she has. The audience is silent, rapt, and the air on stage is thick with heat, effort, and something just a little forbidden.

Mae’s fingers clutch the headboard, arms shaking, her body bowed under the next contraction. Nate keeps her hand in his, the other pressed firm against her thigh under the draped cloth. She draws her knees back wider, every inch of her body on display beneath the skirt. The prop drape is the only thing between her secret and the stunned house.

The pressure between her legs is unrelenting—full, hot, urgent. Mae’s breath turns to sobs and moans, half-pleading, half-feral. “Oh—oh, Bill—please—hoo, hoo, haaa—oh God, it’s so much—”

Nate’s hand slides deeper beneath the cloth, his palm finding the swollen heat of her pussy, fingers slick and trembling. He strokes slow at first, then firmer, his thumb circling her clit in a way that’s nothing like rehearsal, all the lines blurred. He leans close, voice pitched low for her, almost a growl, “Let it happen, June. Let it all out for me.”

Mae’s hips jerk, the pleasure so sharp it makes her cry out. The audience roars with laughter at the “improv,” some even clapping. Nate’s hand never leaves her, teasing and coaxing her through the agony and into something electric. Every brush of his fingers sends a ripple up her spine, her whole belly shuddering, sweat running down her chest and arms.

“Oh!—hoo, hoo—ahhh, don’t stop, Bill—oh, yes, right there—oh God—” She throws her head back, legs shaking. Her thigh presses into his bulge, feeling him rock against her, hard and desperate. She gasps at the sensation, wide-eyed, the look they share too raw to be fake.

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Hope you enjoyed this excerpt!

If you love what you read and want even more, consider joining The Preggo Fantasy Vault! For just $5 a month, you get a brand-new, original birth story every Saturday, plus exclusive bonus stories every now and then, meaning you’re getting way more than four exclusive stories a month—stories you won’t find anywhere else. 

So, if you’ve been on the fence, now is the perfect time to join! Let’s make this space even bigger, better, and filled to the brim with the fantasies we love.

Thank you all again—here’s to more stories, more milestones, and maybe… more babies? 😉

Much love, Drew

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Reblog if you wish this were you

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it really turns me on when i hear women who didn’t mean to get pregnant complain about how big and heavy they’ve gotten.

complaining about how tight their clothes have gotten and how they can’t sit down with out their big belly’s forcing their legs apart. Knowing there’s nothing they can do about it, they just have to watch themselves get pumped up like a fucking balloon. Helpless and swollen.

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