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hypbellylver · 3 months ago

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Just a Little Push

So, before I forget. This is dedicated to the OG (to me, anyway) eggpreg blogs, @drippyeggslut and @eggedbellies. Part of my story was inspired by this post. Honestly, it's been rotating in my head like a rotisserie chicken for over year.

Now... to the smut.

You live in a pretty secluded part of town, near the woods. It's fine, you like the privacy. This way, if you want to walk around naked, there aren't any nosy neighbours close by to ogle you. It's great.

It's a warm spring day and you've decided to spread a blanket out in the back garden. You've dozed off in the sunshine more times than you can count, and you're looking forward to a well-earned nap after a difficult week. As you stretch out across the blanket and bask in the feel of the breeze caressing your face and bare skin, you could swear you hear a rustling in the woods. But before you can lift your head to check what it might be, exhaustion pulls you under into a deep sleep.

When you wake up, it's already getting dark.

Wow, you must've been more tired than you thought. You stretch and yawn and…

Something feels different. You push yourself up onto your elbows and your mouth immediately drops open as you catch sight of your midriff.

Holy. Fuck.

Even in the dark, you can see that your belly is swollen and distended. You look like you're about to burst.

No, this… this can't be real. This isn't real. You squeeze your eyes shut, convinced that when you open them again, your tummy will be back to its usual gently rounded state.

Only… it doesn't. You're as big now as when you woke up.

God, how are you even going to get up?

Cursing, you roll over onto your side and struggle to get your knees under you. It takes you a moment to lever yourself up, and you take a big breath as you heave yourself to your feet. You can't even see your toes past your enormous belly.

Just get into the house, you tell yourself. Maybe you can... call an ambulance? But what the hell would you even tell them? That you went to sleep and woke up eight months pregnant?

Fuck, what are you going to do? A fissure of panic runs down your spine, along with the ghost of a feeling you're trying very hard not to think about. Your hand moves instinctively to cradle your tummy, and it's blazing hot beneath your taut skin. Mind racing, you can't help but think back to the few other times you'd felt someone's pregnant belly. This didn't feel anything like those times.

Maybe it's an egg, you think hysterically. A short bark of laughter escapes you as you stagger off the lawn.

You've barely made it into the house when the first wave of cramps hits you. Your legs threaten to give way beneath you as you only just managing to stop yourself from falling over. Your whole body breaks out into a sweat, tickling between your breasts and down your back.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," you moan. You're in the kitchen now, scrabbling for the lights. As they flicker on and you get a look at your abdomen, you wish you'd kept them off. The tile feels blissfully cool against your feet and you don't think before you hunker down onto your hands and knees. You can't help but wonder what you look like, what someone else would see if they were to walk in there right now.

An unfortunate thrum of arousal races through you, despite the cramps wracking your body.

God, why is this happening? What the hell is going on?

Another cramp, this one stronger than the last, and you drop down onto your elbows, resting your forehead on the tiles.

I'm think I'm giving birth.

Impossible. You aren't even pregnant. But the… thing… inside you seems to be dropping. Through the agony, you try thinking back to your high school biology classes. As the cramps… contractions… get stronger, you realise that your cervix must be dilating. Your body is trying to expel the intruder.

Shivers wrack your body. Because beneath the pain, there's something else. Something delicious. The thing presses down lower between your hips and you can feel tendrils of pleasure snaking through you. Your cunt clenches around nothing, halting the thing's descent and inching it back up further and… fuck.

A loud moan echoes throughout the kitchen. It takes you a long moment to realise that it's you.

I just need to get it out. Just get it out, and I'll be fine.

The tiny sliver of your brain not occupied with the horror of what was happening was fascinated. What is it that's taken up residence inside of you?

Only one way to find out.

Once again, you think about the secluded part of town you live in, without any close neighbours. No one to intrude on your privacy.

No one to hear you scream.

You've never heard such a sound before. It's a strange mixture of incredible pain and indescribable ecstasy as you bear down on the thing, pushing with all your might. You can feel your body straining to accommodate something round and gently ridged. With the first stretching of your soaked cunt comes utter rapture. You wail as you automatically clench down again, once again forcing the thing further up inside you.

And on it goes, a seemingly endless cycle.

You push and strain and groan. Sweaty and exhausted, you somehow manage to maneuver yourself onto your back, your legs spread as wide as they can go. It's a struggle to reach down past your belly to your pussy, but you manage. And that's when you feel it.

Hard and round and slick, it can only be an enormous egg. Your mind struggles to comprehend the reality of what's happening. As you feel explore its surface with clumsy fingers, your fingers brush over your clit.

You cum.

The force of the orgasm takes you by surprise. It's a good thing you're on your back, or you'd have fallen onto your stomach. You're sobbing, gasping for air, as the orgasm works its way through you. It's almost enough to drown out the pain.

You don't know how long you lie there for. The egg is still lodged inside you, just kissing your opening. Weakly, you lift your hand again, wincing as your overheated skin sticks to the tiles.

With trembling fingers, you lightly touch your clit.

It feels so good, unbelievably good, but you don't cum again.

I'll have to work for it this time, you think, half delirious.

You drop your head back, barely feeling the way it thunks against the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push down again, driven by instinct. The stretch of your pussy is unbearable; you're greedy for more of it. But with every inch of the egg your body expels, your clenching cunt drags it back in by millimeters.

The egg's effectively fucking you.

Impossibly, you cum again, even harder than before. You shriek, and the bliss overtakes any pain. For a small eternity, you're reduced to nothing more than a writhing ball of sopping wet ecstasy.

Everything goes black.

It could be minutes later, it could be hours. Your eyelids flutter open, and you stare blankly at the ceiling.

Had it all been a dream?

The thought has barely crossed your mind before you feel another contraction. It's a sharp, delicious agony. You become aware of the stretched out feeling of your cunt, impossibly wide, and a small pool of wetness beneath you. While you'd been unconscious, your body had been working to birth the egg. It takes you a long moment to lift your arm again to reach down between your legs.

You aren't sure what you'd been expecting. But it isn't this. The egg… it's ridged. The base—God, please, let that be the base—is huge, It's bigger than your whole hand, the size of a cantaloupe. For a moment, you can't breathe, wishing you could see what your cunt looks like, dying to see the stretch.

An utterly insane urge seizes you and you're thisclose to pushing the egg back in just so you can birth it again.

No, not yet.

The fact that it's still a possibility is a testament to how far gone you are. Rather than dwell on that, you struggle up onto your elbows to peer down at your belly. The swelling had moved down to your lower abdomen and between your hips while you'd been out. And fuck, you wish you could see what the egg looks like, almost as much as you wish you could see your pussy looks like as the egg emerges.

Well, not much you can do about seeing your cunt, not unless you do this in front of a mirror next time…

Next time?

Yeah, don't think about that now.

Instead, you concentrate on the egg. You give a huge, experimental push, testing out the sensations as they flood through you. It borders on too much, pushing you a hairsbreadth from orgasm. Your cunt spasms, hungrily reclaiming the bit of the egg that you'd managed to force out.

You shiver. That feels amazing. If you bear down harder, will it make you cum again the way you did before?

Something to look forward to, you think hazily.

This time, you push down almost gently, more of a constant pressure than a tremendous heave. A groan tears itself free from your throat now. You can feel the ridges of the egg dragging through your folds, one millimeter at a time as it slips from your cunt. It's so excruciatingly slow that the sensation makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Again, your greedy pussy pulls the egg back in as soon as you've stopped pushing.

Despite your exhaustion, a grin fights its way across your dazed expression. You deliberately clench your muscles, purposefully sucking the egg back inside you.

You're almost expecting the orgasm this time, although there's no way to prepare for the force of it. You keen, arching your back as the egg threatens to disappear back inside you. The fullness is incredible, the pain only adding to the sublime pleasure, and you wonder what you've done to deserve this. What kind of ancient, lecherous deity has decided to gift you with such pleasure?

I can die here, and it'd be worth it.

And you mean it. But not without wringing out every drop of pleasure you can from your precious cargo.

By now, the sun has set completely, leaving it pitch black outside. You distantly wonder why you aren't hungry or thirsty. Does it matter? No, you decide, almost immediately. All that matters right now is cumming, long and hard and as many times as you can.

After some more experimenting, and another two or three orgasms, you settle into a rhythm. You bear down at a constant pressure to the count of ten; any higher and you lose concentration. Then you push down with all your might for one beat before clenching your cunt as tight as you can the next.

It takes forever to get it even a third of the way out. You'd probably have birthed the egg by now but you're having too much fun fucking yourself with it. Adding to the orgy of your moans and grunts and whines is the luscious, sucking sound your pussy makes every time it slurps the egg back up. You're shaking continuously now, verging on overstimulated and loving it.

But as much as you want to keep going, to keep fucking yourself with your egg until you pass out again, you're also dying to know…

What happens when the egg comes out?

You shiver in anticipation.

And bear down on the egg as hard as you can. The sounds that escape your throat are wild and animal, completely unrestrained. Harsh, guttural grunts as the orgasm builds, broken by loud squeals as it crests. Your mind is hazy, and more than once you forget what you're doing, why you keep pushing. You should just keep your beloved egg inside you forever, never to part with it.

No. Just keep… just keep going…

It seems to take an eternity, and that's when you feel it.

The egg is beginning to narrow.

Last chance, you tell yourself. If you push it out all the way now, you might not—probably won't—be able to get it back in. The thought makes you almost unbearably sad. But somehow, you know that as good as you feel now, feeling the egg finally slip out of your pussy will eclipse everything else you've experienced thus far.

That certainty wins out.

You bear down one last time.

The egg slides out of your drenched cunt. You want to take a look at it, glance down at your belly now to see what it looks like, but your mind has gone completely blank. In that moment, you are pure blinding light and pleasure. The living embodiment of ecstasy and carnal desire. You cunt squirts, your wetness coating the insides of your thighs and the tile beneath you. First you scream, and then you sob.

You never want to do that again.

If you had the strength, you'd crawl over to your precious egg and force it back inside yourself so you could birth it again.

With one last heaving breath, you roll over onto your side and scan the kitchen with blurry vision to look for the egg. It hadn't gone far, rolling only an inch or two away from your left foot. It's an iridescent green, glinting wetly under the kitchen lights.

It's beautiful.

You want to sleep. So badly.

From the corner of your eye, you see movement. But before your fucked out brain can even begin to work out what it might be, exhaustion pulls you back under.

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