nyansin - Tumblr blog

nyansin · 3 days ago

Text

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?”

#Kit.Rbs #Writing & Scenarios #Preg #Fpreg #labor & birth

524 notes · View notes

nyansin · 5 days ago

Text

And They Were Roommates Part 1

TMPREG, eventual M/F, Hyperpregnancy, Extreme baby movement, F masturbation.

Loosely inspired by prompt 465.6, "it’s not common but id love to see some het mpreg. give me an alpha woman taking care of her super preggers omega bf. lol"

Synopsis: Amber has a big crush on her roommate. He just so happens to be a hugely pregnant transman.

There was a tense silence in the clinic waiting room, or rather, there was a tense almost-silence. A half dozen mothers did not speak and pointedly tried not to stare, while a father-to-be filled the waiting room with soft groans and whimpers of discomfort.

When Charlie had first confessed to her that he was pregnant after a one-night stand, she had tried to assure him that with his recent top surgery, all it would take was some baggy clothes to convince people he was merely gaining weight.

Now, as she watched him struggle with his lopsided broodsack, that seemed like a charmingly naive notion. The largest t-shirt they could find only covered the top hemisphere of his belly, the rest hanging out in all its stretch-marked glory.

It was visibly heavy, his flushed underbelly sitting ponderously against the rough industrial fabric of the seat until it sagged down off the edge, all of that shifting mass seeming to come to a bloated, fundally stretched head right behind his enormously distended belly button. But the surest sign of its mass was the way Charlie was always reaching past his own bulk to try and support it, and the way it had no give, sitting as sure as granite in his hands, unbudged by his feeble attempts to support the mass that pressed so weightily down on his hips and pelvis.

Looking at it, she could picture all those fat, wriggling babies and the gallons of fluid in his womb weighing down on that poor belly button. She wondered what it might feel like.

A particularly hard kick high and off to the side pushed at the exact edge of his shirt, causing it to roll up, revealing more of his enormous belly. One woman, herself clearly carrying twins, gasped at the sheer size of the pregnant man opposite her.

Charlie dipped his head and awkwardly tried to pull his shirt back down.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got this,” Amber said to her incredibly pregnant roommate. She stood up and leaned over the hot red bulge of Charlie's belly to pull the shirt down. The truth was, she would have loved to parade him in front of all of these mothers and show off that beautiful big boy-womb stuffed so achingly pregnant. But she settled for the brief electricity that ran through her as she pulled the hem of his shirt down, feeling her hands brush against the tight, squirming expanse of his womb. She had to resist the urge to pat his belly, to lick along the thick dark line of his linea negra, to suck on his belly button like she was trying to fellate him.

But she didn’t. She had slept with plenty of people, but she never could figure out her way into Charlie’s pants. He was so tender, so shy, and so unsure of himself that whenever she tried to compliment him, he squirmed in uncertainty. With that goliath swell pushing past his ribs, she had never found him sexier, but he had never found himself less so.

Amber had never had that problem, long-legged, auburn-haired, and slender in all places save one; she was the first girl in her class to start developing and now, in her late twenties, she wondered when she would stop. Fulsome breasts, easily in the K-cup range, gave her a jiggling chest that would have made her the centre of attention in any other company.

She was proud of her figure, of the attention it drew - even if it usually was just the simple lust of someone looking to fondle the most enormous tits they’d ever seen. But she also knew that was a barrier to the type of person she preferred. The reserved, thoughtful kind, that she could comfort and nurture, always thought she was toying with them, and so it had been with Charlie. In his current state, she was sure that if she so much as fluttered her eyelashes at him, he might break down in hormonal tears.

“Carter, Doctor Lantry will see you now.”

“Oh, and just when I was getting uncomfortable,” he said with a breathy laugh, punctuated with a lurching whimper as another baby assaulted his womb walls. “Would you please help me up again, Amber?”

He was always so polite with her. That gentlemanly aspect of him had always attracted her. When she dared to dream, she pictured him giving her a rose, and dressing up to take her to a fancy restaurant or to the theatre. And now in those dreams, he did all of that with a beautifully full womb as well.

With a mutual grunt of effort, she helped to pull Charlie to a standing position, his face flushed and sweaty, his belly flesh too had an extra sheen of perspiration to it.

“Try to keep up,” Charlie joked in a whisper as he began his marathon journey to the doctor’s office. His pregnancy had come to so thoroughly overwhelm him that he was now in the stage beyond waddling. He was in the wallowing stage. Swaying heavily, almost painfully from side to side, he put one foot in front of the other, both hands cradled under his bump - doing his best to alleviate the tremendous sagging weight of his womb. All the while, the kicking of his brood intensified with the extra movement, causing him to hiss and wince in pain.

Amber went ahead and opened the door for him since his belly was getting to the point that it was hard for him to open doors for himself. His belly joined her in the room, and then after a bit of careful positioning, the man himself entered. She felt her clit throb when his shirt brushed against one side of the doorframe.

“Good evening, Mister Carter,” said Doctor Lantry. She was a willowy woman with thin, refined features and a pleasant smile. “Have you given any more consideration to finishing your pregnancy with a long-stay facility?”

“No!” he said sharply, both hands clutching at his monstrously swollen womb. “No. I don’t want to be poked and prodded at,”

“I just think-”

“He said what he said, doctor,” Amber interceded. “Now let’s get him off his feet,”

Getting onto the medical bed was an ordeal in itself; the sheer weight of his preposterous pregnancy was such that his belly simply was his centre of mass, and that meant that lifting a leg up and swinging that enormous baby ball around was simply not feasible - at least alone.

Amber wore a lot of perfume to Charlie’s tests, solely to help cover how wet she got when this part came up. Working in tandem with the father-to-be, she laid her hands on the beautiful, overstuffed womb and helped to push his paternal heft onto the bed. She could feel the clammy smooth stripes of his stretchmarks and the forceful ripples of his babies beneath that tortured flesh. She could feel the kicking intensifying as their father jostled onto the bed.

“Oh god, they’re moving, they’re really moving!” Charlie wailed, one leg on the bed, one leg off as his womb contorted. “OHHHH GOD! Make it stooop!” he screamed, his eyes squeezed shut as the overly knocked-up boy tried so hard to endure the battle raging in his womb.

Writhing beneath his poor, abused belly-skin, the faint shapes of arms and legs surfaced and bulged out of him, each time eliciting a more powerful wail.

“Don’t worry, Chaz, we’ve almost got you,” Amber said loudly enough to be heard over his pained moans but with a gentleness in her voice meant to coddle him. As she helped to heft him up, she pushed into the undulating mass of his belly, causing the great, pressurised mass to writhe like a sack of puppies trying to burst free of him. She felt the powerful kicking of the nine fetuses inside him, the taut liquid pressure of his amniotic fluid recoiling with the motion, and finally she had him on the bed.

Charlie was practically sobbing with pain and humiliation by the time he was securely on the bed. She felt sad for him; she knew that this pregnancy was a burden on him. But by god she wanted to lick the sweat off his engorged womb and fuck him right on the bed. Doctor Lantry could watch. Or join in.

“It’s okay, you did it, Charlie, you did it.” She said, holding his clammy, trembling hand.

The Doctor waited for the surges of fetal movement to stop in her patient before commenting thusly. “Mister Carter, you really need to go to a specialised facility. We’re at least six weeks away from delivery, and your comfort is clearly being impacted.”

“I can’t,” Charlie protested. “If I go, doctors will study me and bring med students to learn about the freak on their maternity wards, and all those gossiping nurses, I can’t do it. I won’t!” his voice was strained not just from raw emotion but from the come-down of the kicking storm to get him on the bed.

“As your gestation progresses, so too will your care needs; are you prepared for that?”

“I am,” Amber answered.

“Thank you,” he said and gripped her arm.

“Well, I hope your partner-”

“Oh no, we’re just friends,” Amber said quickly, and made sure Charlie wouldn’t see her blushing.

“I hope your….friend is ready for the task then.”

“Your fluid levels are still high. Growth rate is strong, though; all babies are in the 95th percentile or higher, I would say. Hmm,” Doctor Lantry paused and studied her monitors closely as she worked the ultrasound wand over Charlie’s bump.

“What’s wrong?” he said, hands perched on the very top of his bump-shelf.

“Nothing, it’s just hard to be certain because all your fetuses are so active, but -” there was an extremely pregnant pause as she examined the interior of this extremely pregnant man. “Yes, I’m sure of it. We’ve found another. A big one too. Mister Carter, you’re carrying ten,” she said.

“Ten. My god,” he muttered, his eyes big and blue on his freckled face.

“I’ll help you pick out some extra names,” Amber said with a smile.

“Still so sure you want to look after me,”

“Absolutely,”

Doctor Lantry interrupted the moment. “If you change your mind, and I must strenuously recommend that you do, we can also help you into the proper facilities.”

“Thank you, Doctor, but I just want to go home now.”

Helping Charlie down from the chair was an ordeal, but a lesser one now that gravity was working with them rather than against them.

What followed was a marathon effort to get Charlie back out and through the waiting room and then into the car park.

“Oh god, my ankles, my back, it’s all too much!” he sighed. Struggling with the weight of his massive belly.

“Lean on me, it’s alright,”

“Thanks again, Amber,” he said as he held on to her side. Her payment was feeling the kicking of his brood as they pummelled her flank. It was seven minutes in heaven, shuffling to their car. After which Charlie was red and slick with sweat, his belly throbbing with kicks from his exertion. Save for the overstuffed womb, she was in a similar state from sheer lust.

Technically, it was Charlie’s car, but in his present state, he could hardly fit in the passenger seat, never mind behind the wheel. She helped him navigate his big belly into the shotgun seat, pushed back as far as it would go, well past the door pillar into the passenger seats at the back. And still, his throbbing lumpy womb occasionally lurched against the dashboard.

“Let’s get you buckled in,” she said, leaning over his belly to work the seatbelt. She felt the hot warmth of his ten-baby brood sack through the fabric of her skirt. In a perfect world, she would have posed like this forever. Instead, she dragged herself off as she found the buckle, though she made sure to drag her heavy breasts across his belly as she did so.

“I’m sorry you have to do all this for me,” he said, ashamed of his excess fertility.

“Don’t be, Charlie, I’m happy to do it, you know that,”

“You’re - “ he gasped as a particularly hard kick brought the hem of his shirt up again. “You’re a good friend.” She was struck by the fettered joy of his smile, that warmth undercut by the exertions of his condition.

His hand brushed hers as she helped to pull it back down. “So are you,” she said with equal tenderness. “Let’s get you fed, you’re eating for eleven.”

Driving with Charlie was a fraught affair in his current state. With no onlookers, he was free to moan and whimper with the volatile movements of his decuplets, which was more than a little bit distracting for Amber. Then there was the matter of his size. Charlie’s belly didn’t just surge out, it bowed round and wide past his widening hips and overhung into the central console by a few inches. More than once, she had actually caught him in his pregnant flank while she worked the gearshift.

“Sorry,” she hissed as she caught him, setting off a slight flurry of kicking.

“Gnaaah! Fuck!” he gasped, voice cracking as his belly quaked with movement. “It - oooh-urgh - it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” he said between rubbing wide circles around the top of his belly.

It was true, she hadn’t meant to set off his brood, but she felt guilty all the same at the dark arousal that shivered through her whenever she saw him struggling with his own massive belly.

She kept her eyes on the road until she reached the drive-through of the nearest takeout spot to home.

“Your total will be £194, please come through to the next window.”

She ignored the fast-food worker’s shocked look at the mass of pregnant flesh sitting in the passenger seat, the man himself pushed back well out of their line of sight.

She paid and put the food behind her in the passenger seat. The sheer girth of Charlie’s belly meant he couldn’t handle the food, and Amber couldn’t get to the passenger side footwell. They had tried to balance the food on the shelf off his huge pregnant tummy like they had seen on TikTok videos, but the heat of the food made the horde growing in his womb restless. She still remembered the blood-curdling scream he let out when he thought he really was about to burst. And the babies had only grown stronger in him since then.

No, rather than risk that she now had to twist in her seat as she put away practically the entire breakfast menu behind her, along with multitudinous sides behind her. They drank their milkshakes on the way back. They both always had chocolate, which made things easier.

“Hmm, it smells great,” Charlie said breathily, as she saw the dents of limbs rippling across the surface of his belly intensify. “Ngh, looks like they think so too,” he said as he rubbed what he could of his belly.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost home.”

Home, such as it was, was a rented apartment on the ground floor of a soulless 2010s-era mid-rise. The parking was decent, with a reserved spot right outside their door.

Amber opened the door on his side. “Come on, big pull,”

“Ngh” Charlie said with a grunt of effort as they once again worked together to get him out of his seat. His legs nearly quaked with the exertion after his trip to the clinic and the ordeal at the car park.

He was almost at his most nervous getting back into the house, the idea that neighbours, people he knew, would see him so preposterously, debilitatingly knocked up.

For the most part, no one said anything, and that was true today as well, the benefits of going out mid-morning on a weekday. All the same, the memory of one of their neighbours muttering whale as they passed his lurching belly in the hall was still fresh in their minds as they made their way back to the flat.

It was modest. Two bedrooms of decent size, a kitchen, a bathroom and a living room/dining area with catalogue furniture, save for a few antique pieces Amber had picked up over the years.

The main sofa had been put up on bricks to make it easier for Charlie to sit down.

Even so, a brief squeal came from him as he sat down. “Ow! Owww! Lightning crotch,” he gasped, shifting uncomfortably on the cushions and pawing at his belly.

“Just try to get comfortable and I’ll be back in a moment.”

By the time she had gathered the takeout and returned, Charlie was sprawled out on the sofa, his colossal belly shifting languidly as he tried to recoup his energy.

“Sorry, Amber, can you help me get my shoes off?”

“Happy to,” she said as she put the takeaway on the coffee table in easy reach of her grossly pregnant roommate.

From this angle, she had an unrestricted view of his delicious underbelly. The ‘V’ of his hips where his belly pushed the front of his shorts down. She had to fight the temptation to pull them down entirely and eat out his ripe and ready boy-cunt.

She focused her mind and pulled off the orthopedic shoes he had needed to wear since his first trimester.

“No wonder that walk was killing you, your feet are looking really swollen today, your ankles too.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Charlie said behind the room divider of his lovely pregnant belly. She took the armchair closer to his head so she could watch him eat.

They put on the TV for background noise; she let Charlie pick. He chose to carry on with ‘their’ rewatch of Star Trek. She preferred fantasy, but she had fantasy enough already, right in front of her.

She ate her breakfast wrap and watched as flurries of kicks rippled across his womb. He still grimaced and rubbed his hand against the flushed pink expanse of his belly, but with his mouth constantly full, he couldn’t voice his discomfort.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m full but I’m still hungry. Because they’re still hungry, they’re already so big they’re squishing my stomach, but I must keep them fed. It’s like they’re controlling me from the inside out. Like I’m some womb on legs.”

She was going to fuck herself raw over that ‘womb on legs’ comment tonight. “About the extra baby, I meant.”

“God, I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do with nine of them, and now ten! God I’m such a stupid pregnant breeder slut, I knew I should have turned that guy down and now look at me,” he said shoving a hand into his own gut. It was a mistake, and they both knew it. Amber winced for what was to come.

“I’m - HMMMMNNGHHHHHYYYAAAR!!” he screamed, cut off by the sheer pain of his brood rampaging around his bump. Arms and legs, even the wide, round distensions of heads forced their way to the surface of his belly with their kicking storm.

“Oh shit! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!” he screamed, eyes shut as he desperately put his hands over the relative sliver of bump he could reach. His eyes were squeezed shut to keep the sweat running down his face from getting into his eyes. “Oh Christ! They’re ripping me apart! Help me! Amber help - nghhh - I’m going to burst!!”

She dabbed his face with a takeaway napkin. “It’s alright, I’m here,” Amber grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re not going to burst. Deep breaths, nice and steady, I’ll calm them down.” She held him with one hand and moved to soothe his belly with the other, from the force of the babies pushing against her palm. It was hard to believe he was only twenty weeks. Bit by bit, she helped to calm the babies and their suffering father.

“Thanks,” Charlie said in a small, drained voice. “Sorry, you have to spend all this time looking after a hugely pregnant freak like me.”

She still had her hand on his bump. She stroked it gently over the ridges of his stretchmarks. “You know I don’t think of you like that. It’s a beautiful thing you’re doing.”

“I’m the size of a house!” he protested with the slightest mirth in his eyes that told her she had succeeded in cheering him up. “And you have to do everything for me, my food, helping me move, and all the rest. All because my belly’s so stuffed full of babies.”

She looked deeply into those big, soft eyes of his. “I would do anything for you.”

After brunch was over, she logged back into work. She hadn’t told Charlie yet, but over the last sixteen weeks, since he announced his pregnancy she had been putting her all into work and earned a promotion, as well as putting her juicy tits and bubble butt all over OnlyFans. She was sitting on a small fortune—the fortune it would take to raise ten children.

Periodically, she paused her work to come back out to the living room and check on Charlie, helping him adjust his position on the couch, helping him to the bathroom, and fetching him snacks and drinks as needed. Even when she was working, she kept her iPad on her desk so that she could message him. Their chat was a stream of memes, dirty jokes, and the sort of aimless conversation that only people who have known each other for a lifetime can accomplish.

Amber heaved slightly as she helped Charlie shift into bed. “Good night, Charlie,” she said, knowing she would probably have to help him to the bathroom at least twice at night.

“Good night, Amber,” he said with a laugh. “Sorry, we sound like a married couple in a kids' book.”

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Though she was anticipating some disturbances in the night, she knew she would have at least a little while, so she changed into a corset, suspenders and stockings, her face hidden by a little mask. She remembered to take her pills, as well.

She put on some soothing background music, quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb her pregnant roommate, and set her camera to record. She teased her imagined viewers with a dildo just on the edge of the screen.

She never spoke, just gyrated and slowly squeezed her fat, natural breasts free of her corset. At the three-minute mark, she stripped, showing the neatly trimmed crease of her sex, before finally she lay back, open to the camera and worked the dildo in and out of herself. She thought of Charlie, his big heaving belly convulsing in her hands, the way he called himself a breeder and a womb on legs. She imagined the delicious weight of his distended belly on hers, a strapon deep inside as he fucked her. After spending all day fantasising about it and quietly working herself into a frenzy, she came like a burst pipe.

It would sell well. Cupping her breasts one more time she felt a wetness against her palm. The pills were working.

Thanks for reading to the end. I hope to do 3 or 4 more parts. I intend to put all of it here and on my own blog: depravedpreg

#Kit.Rbs #Writing & Scenarios #Preg #mpreg #multiples

102 notes · View notes