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mils-preg · 1 day ago

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My Sister's Visit

MY SISTER’S VISIT

My parents had two children. I was the younger by two years. My sister, Belle, was born on the wedding night, which is how she got her name - she was my parents’ “wedding Belle.” My name, Tyler, didn’t have any meaning to it at all, but it was and is my name, and I have never wanted another one.

Belle was very average physically for most of her youth. As she entered high school, I really noticed her hair becoming smoother and sleeker, her breasts filling out more but not overwhelming her body, and her face becoming more like a young woman and less like a child. I could agree with anyone that she was certainly pretty, but she was my sister, and my body thankfully knew that.

I had a few short relationships in high school, but there was always the knowledge in the back of my mind that we would probably split to different colleges afterward and I was afraid to get too deep. I never went beyond making out with any of the girls I dated. Two of them broke up with me because of this.

I turned 18 in October of my senior year. By that time I had narrowed down my college choices to Cal or Oregon. I had scholarships available for both, so it was really just figuring out which one would offer me the better courses. Belle was at Cal, so there was at least someone I knew, but I also didn’t want to seem like I was tagging along in my sister’s footsteps.

Decisions, decisions.

Over the summer, Belle had announced to us that she was pregnant. It hadn’t been intentional, but she seemed to be in a good, loving relationship and planned to keep the baby and continue her studies at the same time. Our parents, while they were a little judgmental of her actions, accepted that she was an adult, and since they weren’t paying for her college anyway (Belle was on a full ride), it was ultimately her decision what she wanted to do, as long as she understood that they wouldn’t be able to raise a baby if she ran into hardship. She was due in January, and decided that she would rather come home for Thanksgiving this year instead of Christmas to avoid being away from her physician at a critical time.

Belle’s car pulled into our driveway long after dinner on Wednesday night. We all stayed up to wait for her, and when she carefully got out she was greeted by a screaming hug from our mother. Dad stood by for his more formal hug. I tried to get away with our old hand slap and fist bump, but Belle wasn’t having it. “Come on, Tyler, we’re both adults now, let’s hug like normal people!” She pulled me in with one arm before I could object.

Obviously I had seen pictures of her. She was posting them frequently on Facebook, and she had been looking pregnant since July. And I had seen her get out of her car, I knew her belly was there. But when she hugged me, some part of me clicked and was very aware of her presence and her form, my mind starting to map the curves I could briefly feel pressing into me.

So it had happened. I was finally starting to have a physical response to my sister.

I knew this would be a possibility. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been interested in pregnant women. I didn’t realize it was a sexual thing until my first reproductive health class in school, when I found myself at home with the textbook experimentally touching myself to an illustration of a pregnant woman. I had even imagined a couple of my girlfriends pregnant and had no shortage of masturbation sessions with those mental images. And now, apparently, based on my slightly elevated heart rate and increased pressure in my jeans, my sister’s pregnancy had decided to blur the family lines in my head.

We stayed up late talking and catching up. I tried not to stare, but sometimes the way Belle moved would put her body into greater prominence and I would find myself locked on to her belly. I never looked longer than a few seconds before catching myself and returning to the conversation. Eventually our parents went to bed, leaving just Belle and me in the living room.

“Well, dear brother, should we break out the Switch for old time’s sake?”

I smiled. “You bet!” Belle always got better grades than me (slightly), but one thing I always had over her was my MarioKart skill. As I turned on the console and handed out controllers, I realized that I actually hadn’t played much since she left home, and I hoped that wouldn’t hinder me too much.

As it turned out, playing MarioKart was like riding a bike. I was racing as well as I ever had, but what surprised me was that Belle was beating me on my best tracks! Evidently she noticed this too, because she taunted me - “Come on, Tyler, I’m just pregnant, you don’t have to let me win!”

“Oh, I’m not!” I assured her as I fired a red shell at her. “I think someone’s been practicing.”

“Okay, maybe I’ve been going down to the dorm’s media center a few nights a week for a quick race or two. Or five. I guess this is a race of equals now.”

She recovered from the spin the shell had put her in, and was just starting to accelerate as I passed. When we hit the finish line, she overtook and beat me by a fraction of a second.

“Nice job, sis,” I said. “More?”

“Maybe one more.”

The next race proceeded much like the previous one until the second lap. As we were coming around a hairpin turn, Belle made a hissing sound and a hand flew to her belly, sending her kart into a bad spin.

I instantly paused and looked at her. “Everything okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. It’ll pass, just give me a moment.”

“Those are the fake ones, right?”

“Yes. I get them every few days. They’re usually not too bad, but sometimes…”

“...they can be a real shock,” I finished.

“Exactly.” She let out a deep breath. “Whoo, I think that’s the worst of it. You can unpause now.”

I felt bad winning that race because it really wasn’t Belle’s fault that she dropped to tenth place, but she called it fair and we decided to turn in for the night.

Thanksgiving Day was full of preparation. Mom banished us all from the kitchen, finding our help to be more stressful than doing it all herself, so we had to find ways to amuse ourselves without getting in the way. I decided to jump into one of my train simulators on my laptop, while Dad disappeared to the garage. I heard the sounds of power tools every now and then. Belle mostly tried to study, and she had a video call with her boyfriend and his family around noon. I tried not to eavesdrop, but what little I did hear sounded good. It seemed like they were very serious and his family was excited about their new little addition.

I still couldn’t stop myself from casting surreptitious (I hoped) glances at my sister’s belly. I couldn’t explain it, pregnancy just drew me in a way that I never expected. A couple of times I think she caught me before I could look away, but she never said anything about it. I just kept building my routes and tried to act normal.

We had a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat and then followed our family tradition by going out to a movie afterward. What we saw would probably never be my favorite, but if it was ever on and I happened to be in the same room I would probably still sit and watch.

Back at home, our parents turned in early, and Belle decided to head for her room to work on finishing the last bit of a project so that she could have the rest of the holiday weekend free. I stayed up with some TV in the living room before I eventually decided I should probably go to bed myself.

Our house was arranged so that the master suite was on one end and the extra bedrooms were on the other. I headed down my hallway and noted Belle’s door was still cracked with the light on. She was sitting on her bed with her college stuff, but looked up when she heard my footsteps. “Heading to bed?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I must have had too much turkey. I’m never ready for bed this early.”

“Just think, when you’re in college, this really will be an early night. I probably still have an hour or so of work to do.” She looked around the doorframe. “Why don’t you come in for a moment instead of standing in the hallway?”

I pushed the door open and stood just inside it. Belle’s room was always forbidden to me except by invitation, but there was nothing special about it. The aging and curling N*SYNC poster was still there, just about the only thing that wasn’t in some way pink. There were no clothes strewn on the floor - evidently she wanted to make a good impression now that she was a guest.

“I thought you only had a little bit left,” I said.

“When you’re in college, an hour or two is only a little bit. I hope you’re ready,” she said, “because I sure wasn’t.”

“How are you going to manage it with a baby?” I asked. “I’m not criticizing, just curious.”

“Daniel’s family is in Richmond. They’ve offered as much help as we need.”

“That’s lucky. You guys going to get married?”

She sighed. “Maybe. We haven’t discussed that far yet.” She leaned back and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Ugh, I need a break.”

I didn’t have a response to that.

“Tyler, can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” I shrugged.

“Look, I don’t want to be awkward, I just want to know - have you been staring at me since I’ve been home?”

Caught. I wanted to lie. Somehow, I just couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been trying not to. I’ve had a thing for pregnancy for a few years, and I swear it’s not because I’m looking at you that way-” (bullshit) “-but there’s something about it that just captures my attention. I’m not trying to creep or perv on you, I promise.”

Belle seemed to relax. “Well I guess that’s fine. My boyfriend really likes it too, so I’m used to it.” A light giggle escaped her lips. “Have any of your girlfriends ever known about this?”

“No. I was worried they would think it’s weird.”

“Trust me - most fetishes are weird to someone.” It was the first time I’d heard anyone acknowledge this as a fetish, and that caused me to blink in surprise. “You just need to find someone who can work with yours. Did you ever pretend you were knocking them up when you had sex?”

“No, I’ve… never had sex. Never even touched anyone, actually.”

She leaned forward with a shocked look. “I am genuinely surprised,” she said. “Well, no judgment from me. You can’t accidentally get anyone pregnant if you don’t have any sex.”

She cleared her throat. “Well look, I’m totally fine with you looking. Just be careful not to be too obvious or people might get the wrong idea. And if you have any questions, you can definitely ask me. Let’s not be awkward about it.”

“Good luck with that,” I said.

“Okay, I get it, it’s hard to talk about these things with family. But I promise, I will be one hundred percent open and honest with you if there’s anything you want or need to know, okay?”

I nodded. “I think I’ll head for bed now.” I turned toward the door.

“Hey, before you go…”

I looked back at Belle.

“You want to feel her move?”

My eyes snapped to her belly. “It’s a girl?”

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet. You’re sworn to secrecy, got it?”

I smirked. “What’s it worth to you?” Our old joke.

“Come here,” she said. She lifted her shirt over her belly, revealing taut pale skin stretched in a pleasant round shape. I thought I saw a small movement inside.

“Did she just…”

Belle laughed. “Yes, that was her. One thing I’m surprised about is that everyone talks about being able to feel the baby kick and move, but they never tell you that you can see it too. Here, put your hand right here…”

Belle took my hand and placed it near where I had seen the bulge. “Now just wait a moment…”

Soon I felt something nudging me from inside. It felt like it might have been an elbow. “I felt that,” I whispered.

“She’s pretty active tonight,” Belle said. “Sometimes she just does a couple of stretches, other times it feels like a whole circus in there.”

She kept her hand on mine for a moment before gently pulling away, but I stayed put, reveling in what I was feeling. Her other hand gently rubbed up and down the curve of her belly. I stuck my other hand in my jeans pocket, trying to be subtle about fixing my discomfort there, but with Belle being so close there was no way she could have missed what I was doing. If she did, she didn’t mention it.

Eventually, I took my hand away. “Thank you, Belle. That was really cool.”

“You think so?” she said.

“What does it feel like for you?” I asked.

“It’s kind of hard to describe for anyone who hasn’t experienced it,” she said. “It’s probably about how you’d expect to feel if you had a living thing stuck between your skin and your bladder. Really, it’s pleasant sometimes and not other times. And it’s really awkward to move. I have all this extra weight in a weird spot.”

I stood there for a moment watching a couple more rolls before finally feeling like I overstayed my welcome. “I should probably go,” I said, turning to the door again.

“Tyler,” Belle said.

“Yes?”

“You’ve really never touched a girl?”

“Apart from kissing, no.”

“Never seen her breasts or anything?”

“I’ve never been around a girl without some sort of clothes on. Bikinis are about as close as I’ve come.”

“Hm.” Belle shifted into more of a sitting position against her pillows. “Close the door,” she said.

I started to leave.

“No, silly, close the door but stay in here.”

My heart began to race. I slowly pushed the door closed until it clicked.

“Okay, ground rules,” she said. “No kissing, no physical contact above the shoulders or below the waist. This is a favor to you and nothing more.”

“What do you-?”

My question was cut off as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing a lacy black bra covering her breasts. She tossed the shirt next to her on the bed before reaching back and fiddling with the bra. I saw it loosen, then she pulled it off too and tossed it with the shirt.

I was now staring at my sister’s breasts.

No, correction - don’t think of it that way. I was staring at breasts. Period. My first time seeing a pair of breasts in the open. No textbook diagram, no half-assed cartoon, these were the real deal. They were, to put it mildly, perfect. Their size complemented Belle perfectly, and the way they rested on her pregnant belly was, to my mind, a perfect expression of womanhood. Her nipples were not dark but dusky, definitely contrasting with the rest of her skin but not the deep brown I had been taught to expect.

Belle took a deep breath and let it out. Her breasts followed the movement beautifully. “So like I said, nothing above the shoulders or below the waist. You can touch anywhere in between, but no mouth contact, hands only. If you need to masturbate, go ahead, but I won’t help you. This is for you alone, in this moment only. You won’t get another chance at this.” She smiled. “But I didn’t want to send you to college without having experienced at least one naked girl in your life.”

I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I stood there for a moment, not knowing how to proceed. Belle then reached out and took my wrist, guiding my hand to her closest breast. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Go ahead. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

Slowly, tentatively, I squeezed the soft flesh under my palm, feeling it give pleasantly. My thumb brushed upward, tracing the curve of her breast in curiosity. Feeling braver, I changed direction and grazed her nipple, feeling it bounce back as I moved away. I went back for more, enjoying the sensation. Stepping closer, I reached my other hand over to the other breast and began working them together. A couple of contented sighs came out of Belle’s mouth as I touched her.

“Hang on,” she said after a few minutes. “Let me shift a bit.”

I stepped back and she scooted forward, then turned and lay on her side, breasts and belly facing toward me. The way gravity pulled on them made it so I could see the heft in each globe. I touched her again, this time gently lifting her breasts to feel their weight. I imagined how much heavier they would feel once her milk came in. Eventually the pressure got to be too much and I took my hands away to undo my zipper.

“I don’t think I’ll last long,” I told her as I pulled my cock out of my pants. “Where should I… um…?”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You can cum anywhere, as long as it’s not on my face. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice anymore at this point. It no longer mattered that my sister was lying on the bed in front of me. What mattered to my body was that it was a girl, she was naked, and she was inviting me to use her for pleasure. I couldn’t reach over to touch her and stroke my cock at the same time. Belle reached her arm over herself and started massaging her own breast, the one closest to the bed. I could feel something coming up - I was right, it wouldn’t be long at all.

“Cum on me…” she whispered, seemingly lost in her own moment. “Cum on your little pregnant girl…”

I don’t know that I would have called her little, she was certainly my height at least, but logic wasn’t going to win today. The sound of her breathless begging sent me over the edge and I shot out what were probably my most powerful streams of cum to that day. My first actually sailed over her body and landed on her bra, a few more hit her breasts, her arm, and her belly, with the rest dribbling onto the sheets and floor. It felt like the longest orgasm I had ever experienced. I must have stood there a good thirty seconds before I could even process a thought.

“Did you enjoy that?” Belle asked me.

I nodded.

“Good,” she said. “Stay here a moment, I want you to watch me finish myself off really quick, then you can go to bed.” Seemingly ignoring the white liquid all over her, Belle reached down and her hand disappeared into her sweatpants. I watched her arm pump back and forth accompanied by some wet sounds, and her breathing became shallower.

“Oh…” she groaned. “Oh, I need to cum. May I please cum?”

“What? Of course,” I said in surprise.

“No…” she said calmly. “I need you to give me specific permission. I need you to tell me to cum. Tell me I’m a good girl cumming for you. I really like it, and I want you to do it.”

“Oh. Okay. Um…” I cleared my throat. “Yes, you’ve been a good girl. You’re a really good girl. You may cum. Good girls get to cum.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you thank you thank youuuuuuu!”

The last word got strangled off as I watched her body fold in slightly and convulse. Her breasts jiggled tantalizingly with the orgasm, and if I hadn’t just cummed myself I probably would have right then. As it was, I could feel my dick trying to get hard again with that sight.

“Ahhhh!” she gasped as the last of the orgasm gave out. “God, I needed that. Pregnancy makes me so horny sometimes.”

She opened her eyes and looked at me. “As far as I’m concerned tonight didn’t happen. But at least you can’t say that you haven’t been with a naked girl anymore.”

“Thank you,” I said, zipping up my pants. I turned for the door a third time.

“Hey, Tyler,” Belle said as I made to leave. “You don’t have to get a girl pregnant, there are plenty of single pregnant girls who might just need a quick release. Don’t rush into anything. And if you do knock anyone up, I hope you’ll be a good dad.”

“Thanks, I’ll… I’ll remember that,” I said. I finally left her room and closed the door behind me.

True to her word, that night was the only night that Belle invited me in or did anything overtly sexual. We finished the weekend as unassuming as we started it. If she caught me staring at her figure again, she just gave a quick smile and turned away. That was really the only change. When she left early on Sunday morning, she made a show of blowing us all kisses out her window before her car drove away and out of sight at the corner.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

December came along with its cold dreariness. The past couple of weeks I had been cursing myself for not at least asking to take some pictures of Belle. She probably would have said no, but at least I could have tried. The images in my memory were good, but losing their potency like a dream does when you wake up.

Christmas came and went, our first without Belle at home. After our parents had gone to bed on Christmas night, I opened my email to see a message from her.

>>>

Hey, little bro. I didn’t get my presents for all of you sent out in time. They should arrive Friday while Mom and Dad are at work. Your package has a little something extra in it. The present wrapped in green is the one you can open in front of Mom and Dad if you want. The one wrapped in red needs to stay in your room, be opened only in your room, and never leave your room. If it goes anywhere else, I will track you down and end you. Peace!

<<<

The next day I passed the news along that Belle had sent presents and they were still on their way. On Friday, just as predicted, two boxes showed up at our door, one addressed to our parents and one addressed to me. I brought both inside, placed Mom and Dad’s on the table, and took mine to my room, deciding to just go ahead and open both of the presents she had told me about.

Inside the green wrapping was a railroad book I had been wanting for years. The card said she had found it at an antique mall and took a guess that I didn’t have it yet. I said “thank you” to the card and, trying to control my breathing and anticipation, turned my attention to the package in red. It felt like a book. I carefully tore apart the wrapping and saw a black leather cover with no writing on it, and a note folded on top.

“Dear brother,” I read, “I know you’re interested in photography and I thought this could give you some ideas… among other things. If you’re ever interested in this kind of photography, I can tell you about my experience and what made me comfortable with the whole idea and process. You, Daniel, and the photographer have the only copies of these photos - I hope it doesn’t weird you out that you’re not the only one. All the photos are in a specific order. Don’t go jumping around until you’ve looked through the whole thing; you’ll spoil the experience. I hope you like it. Love, Belle.”

I opened the book to discover it was a standard photo album. Belle’s smiling face greeted me on the first page, throwing her head back as if in laughter, arms cradling her belly as her body faced the side of the frame. This must have been her maternity shoot. The dress she wore accentuated her curves nicely but not scandalously - it was a beautiful and graceful choice. More photos followed showing her sitting on a park bench, lying in the grass with a book, dangling her feet in the water of a creek, and many other poses that showed her absolutely overjoyed about her impending motherhood.

Eventually I started to notice the photos got a little more shadowy, but almost like a natural occurrence. There were still the vibrant colors of the outdoors as the photographer followed her through Berkeley, but I noticed he was paying attention to the lighting and what it would do to the tone as they went on. This was one skilled photographer, the kind I could only hope to be at this point.

I flipped a page to find an abrupt shift to black and white, a close-up of Belle’s face next to a sign reading STUDIO. Neat transition, I thought. The photo opposite on the spread was another close-up of her face, eyes closed and looking down, a finger to her lips as if telling the viewer to be quiet.

And then it got intense. And intimate. All of the photos that followed were either black and white or used a single spot color. A photo of Belle walking through the studio hallway. Belle untying the cord of her dress. Pulling the dress up to expose her belly and the skimpy underwear around her waist. Fifty photos - I counted twice - all illustrated a sequence of Belle growing sultrier and sexier as she and the photographer used their craft to give the viewer a real show. There was a photo of her cradling her breasts and pushing them toward the camera, bending over a bed, propping up on her hands and knees on the bed. They had been careful never to expose her fully - there were some completely nude shots that never showed anything up front between her legs, that being reserved only for her most intimate partner. But the angles and the rest of the book sure made up for that. She even had a few photos done where she appeared to be begging the viewer for something, and some with her wrists bound in front or behind.

I didn’t remember taking my pants down while I looked through the book, but it happened at some point, and I was glad the photos were all in protective plastic sleeves when an errant stream of cum landed on one of the close-ups of her torso. I hurriedly cleaned up when I realized that my parents would be home soon, then headed back to the main part of the house to wait for them.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I eventually decided on the University of Oregon to major in journalism. I also took a lot of photography and art classes, wanting to improve my techniques in both. I even tried video production and found that I liked the process of finding the right angles and then editing a production.

I had another couple of relationships in my freshman year. The first one ended because she dropped out and went back home to Ohio, but the other one really blossomed. Her name was Katie. We had open discussions about what we liked both sexually and non-sexually, and she didn’t think my pregnancy fetish was weird. In fact, she embraced it. Again, cautious idiot that I was, we never had full-on traditional sex, but by the time spring rolled around we were comfortable enough with each other to be naked and explore together. She made herself a convincing fake pregnant belly (convincing, that is, as long as it was under clothes) and used it with me multiple times. She also allowed me to practice photography with her in various states of dress and undress.

Over the summer we grew apart but still stayed friendly on campus, and she continued to be a model for me. She must have put a bug in someone’s ear, because in my sophomore year I got a request from a pregnant senior to do a maternity shoot. I agreed, and soon word got out that I did a good job of capturing the beauty of pregnancy when the mothers felt their least attractive. Of course, there weren’t many pregnant students at the university, but the community started asking me as well, and I was booking sessions whenever I could work them around my schedule.

As sophomore year was ending, one of my clients asked for a boudoir shoot as well, and I agreed to try. After all, I had already been practicing with Katie, and her positive reviews and thoughtful critiques had allowed me to improve. I did the shoot, and the client was ecstatic about the results, so I started more of those sessions as well. I was now working with pregnancy and nudity, sometimes together, in a professional setting. I had thought that might actually hurt my opportunities in the dating pool, but it turned out I needn’t have worried. That’s another story.

My techniques and reputation only improved through the rest of my college days. I went to Berkeley in the summer after my junior year to be at Belle’s wedding. She didn’t ask me to be her photographer, she wanted me as a guest, and I fully respected that decision. But while I was there, she did make another request to me, one that I was nervous about but eager to try. That’s also another story.

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