SKAMtheorist

A day in the life of my happy boywife. He gets up earlier than he intends, woken up by the nausea he always experiences in his first trimester. He’s careful not to wake me before my alarm goes off. When I do get up, I’m met by breakfast and coffee waiting for me in the kitchen. He’s feeding the other kids, but he stops to say good morning, to let me kiss him and rub my hands on his bump, which is now becoming only ever so slightly visible. While I’m eating, he lets the nanny in, who takes over breakfast duties while my boy and I both go upstairs to get ready for the day. We slip in the to shower together. I stand behind him, grabbing his hips and pushing him down against my cock. My hands move to his belly while I rock back and forth inside his hole, loosed by years of breeding and birthing. My wet balls slap against his ass, and he tries his best not to moan too loudly lest the nanny hear. I finish inside him, dumping my morning load against his cervix, and then he and I proceed to soaping each other up and cleaning ourselves. When we’re done, he picks out my suit for the day, helping to dress me while he remains stark naked so I can watch his body while he bends down to put on my socks or turns around to fish out a tie from the closet. After he’s dressed me, he throws on some clothes and we go downstairs; he sees me off for the day, kissing me at the door and handing me my briefcase after I’ve quickly kissed our kids goodbye. When he’s seen me off, my boywife sets to doing chores while the nanny looks after the kids. In the morning, he does laundry and general cleaning, and after lunch he does my ironing. Throughout the day he sends me pics and snap and private TikToks of what he’s doing, usually in a state of some undress. I love watching him iron while his baby bump sticks out ever so slightly. It’s hard to stay focussed at the office, but thankfully I have a big desk that hides my regular hardons from colleagues and clients. When I return home in the evening, he’s made dinner and nanny is just finishing the feeding of the kids. Nanny says goodbye after the kids are fed, and after our own dinner my boywife and I put the kids to bed. The rest of the evening is our own. We usually spend it in the bedroom in the basement where we keep all sorts of fun toys to keep each other entertained. Whatever we choose to do, it always ends the same way; my boywife moaning in pleasure as I press my thick cock against his cervix, which he says is still a little tender from our morning session. When I cum, whether it’s up against my boy’s warm, swelling womb or down his hungry throat, I feel a rush of power. My boywife has willingly, eagerly given me his body, indeed his life, for my use. We are united every night by our common desire to breed, and we devote all of our free time to enjoying the results together. As the kids get older, it might be harder to find so much time together, but I know my boywife will want to keep carrying even as the older ones go off to school — or even college. The pattern of my boywife’s days may change over time, but I know his commitment to growing my gifts never will.

When his hand is on my pregnant belly, nothing else matters. He touches it with gente confidence, aware of its delicacy but assured of his ownership. I lay there and let him rub the taut skin as he feels the various contours of my belly growing his latest. No two pregnancies have felt the same, he tells me. I watch his hands as it caresses me, and everything about the sight turns me on. The hair on his forearm disguises his veiny strength. His thick fingers betray a certain roughness that speaks to his job with his hands. Even his finger nails, unkempt but oddly attractive, remind me that he is a man through and through. I thrill at the feeling of carrying his child in me; he has shared himself with me, trusted me to grow it for him and deliver it to him after nine blissful months. He murmurs that I’m beautiful, how proud he is of me for what I’m doing for him. I watch as his free hand pulls down pyjama pants while his other hand continues to feel my bump. His grey underwear has a wet stain where his cock has already leaked ample precum. He pulls down his underwear and begins to stroke himself while he caresses my pregnancy. I can’t keep my eyes off his dick; a sense of power seems to emanate from it as I remind myself that it created what it’s growing inside me. It doesn’t take much longer before my man rolls on his side and direct his cock at my belly, shooting out ropes of cum that stick on my smooth skin. When he finishes cumming, his hand rubs his load against my skin and, with the remainder on his fingers, his brings his hand to my mouth for me to clean him off. I suck on his fingers, greedily swallowing his cum Good boy, he says to me. And then he rolls away, turning on his other side, quickly nodding off to sleep.

I press my belly against his, feeling what he gave me against what I gave him. I want to feel his belly with my hands, to glory in its taut warmth and to feel the movements of my creation just beneath the skin. But at the same time, I yearn to feel his hands on my own belly, to feel what I’m growing for him in my own womb. I imagine he feels the same duality; we stare in to each other’s eyes, seeing in the other simultaneously prey and predator. Sex has become different these past few months; we can’t just top each other like we could at the beginning. But it doesn’t stop us from enjoying the bodies we’ve made for each other practically every night. Sometimes we drizzle oil on each other and simply rub bellies, pushing our creations gently against one another until we both explode from the erotic pressure. Other times we take turns pushing large dildos in to the other’s canal, stretching the other out to get us both ready for what’s to come at the end of our respective journeys. And every once in a while we just give each other simple hand jobs, making each other cum all over our own gravid bellies. Our family is set to double in size in only a few weeks from now, but we’re already thinking about having more. If we can time it right, we want to get each other pregnant against the same time — but even if we don’t get the timing right, neither of us wants this to be our last. It feels way too good for us to stop now.

Pov: we’re making ur son but ima dip after ha

Yeah babe, you like that dick donchu? Does that feel good? Fuck yeah, babe, just keep moving like that, yeah. Ur gonna have ur son in no time. Fuck yeah, bitch, take all ten inches of me, awwyeah. We’re gonna erase those abs so quickly, babe. U ready to be morning sick because of my kid? It’s crazy that you want this so bad when you know I ain’t gonna be around a lot. Good god you’re a desperate slut, oh fuck yeah that feels amazing babe, grind on me just like that a bit more. U ready to be preggo? Oh yeah babe just keep going fuck yeah I’m about to dump my load holy shit babe. Fuuuuck, that was intense. Now get off me and get ur legs in the air so it takes. I gotta bounce. Maybe I’ll see u around in a few months when ur a few months in. I told you I can’t be his forever daddy, but I’d love to spend a little more time with u and the little guy before your nine months is up.

I lean against the couch, focussing on my breathing. With my water broken and contractions so close together, it’s going to be over so soon. But the whole time I’m distinctly aware of my husband standing just behind me, watching my progress. He tells me what a good job I’m doing; he encourages me to keep going. He tells me how beautiful I look, labouring against the gift he gave me nine months ago. I glance back at him and see his face, in an awed trance, transfixed at the sight of my boypussy beginning to stretch open against our latest. He smiles at me; I see how grateful he is and it gives me the deepest sense of satisfaction it’s possible to imagine. He tells me to keep going, that he knows it hurts but that he’s so moved by my dedication to his happiness. He reaches out to touch my lower back, which is drenched in sweat; his hands stays there, a comforting and dominant presence as I push and breathe in rhythmic patterns. I’m focussed now on delivering to my husband his right as the man in our house, and he continues to encourage me. He tells me it will be over soon, but I know it will only be over for a short period of time. It will only be a matter of weeks between the end of this pregnancy and the start of the next.

Now that I’d made partner, it was time to start a family. I’d had my eye on Justin, the junior associate who was struggling to keep up with the other first years. Over a “business lunch,” it didn’t take me long to convince him that he wasn’t lawyer material. He asked me what I thought he should do instead, and I levelled with him. He’d never thought of himself as the paternal type, but I pointed out all the qualities that made him a middling lawyer — his emotional thoughtfulness, his unwillingness to say no, his devotion to the gym instead of trial prep — would make him an excellent breeder. We hadn’t even finished our meals when I paid the waiter a 50 to keep people out of the washroom while we locked ourselves inside. Justin’s pussy was unusually tight, and I told him it wouldn’t be that long until that would change. Between taking my nine inches daily, and giving birth to the son I’d just dumped in his womb in time to show off at the Partners’ Christmas Party, his hole would be slack in no time…

The monitor crackled to life, and we both paused to listen. But after a few burbles and gurgles, the monitor was quiet again, just a soft stream of white noise. We didn’t have much “us” time, but what little we managed to find everyday we devoted to the same activity: expanding our family. I pushed myself back in my husband, his hole still slack from pushing out the twins only a few months earlier. He moaned as I bottomed out inside him, feeling his warm insides clench around me. His legs rested on my shoulders as I pumped, slow but deliberately, watching his face contort in pleasure. My cock pressed against his cervix and he whimpered. He looked up at me while his hands rubbed his belly in front of me. You want daddy to fill that up for you, I asked him, joining my hands to his and pressing down on his currently empty womb. Will you grow daddy twins again, baby, or maybe triplets? He nodded, his hips now gyrating against my cock even as his legs remained on my shoulders. He wanted to be filled even more than I wanted to fill him. I imagined him and I in this same position two months from now, and six, and then nine; each time, his body would get heavier to support on my shoulders, but he’d crave me more each time. I’d look down and watch the belly I made move against the rythmn of my thrusts. The thought was too much for me: I busted my load deep in him, covering his cervix with three spurts of my sperm. He smiled as I slowed down and panted, but before we could even kiss, the monitor crackled back to life and the crying started in earnest. My husband rolled over and went to attend to the problem. I watched him leave the room, pulling on his pants even as cum still dripped from his hole. He was consumed by the task nature had set him, but it turned me on to watch him fulfill it so dutifully. Sooner or later he’s have even more on his hands, and I’d reap the rewards for nine months.

Oh princess, if you think this hurts, just wait nine months. Only then will you know just how much it hurts to be in love with me.

He told me not to worry. He’d been through it before with his ex-wife twice. He said that pregnancy wasn’t as scary or difficult as everyone said it was, that his ex-wife didn’t mind it. And he loved it, of course. He told me how great we’d feel when we both got to see the double line on the test, how excited we’d get in seeing the progression in the ultrasounds, how everyone would look at us together in public and know what we’d done together. But mostly, he admitted, he was looking forward to the nine months we’d have together in private, where he could admire and worship his work. He told me how sexy I’d look with a stretched, gravid belly marked by occasional kicks and faint stretch marks. Despite all that, I told him I was nervous: would it hurt to be impregnated? what about the morning sickness? I couldn’t even bring myself to think about the labour, let alone mention it. He sighed and gave me a warm smile; an empathetic one, but not necessarily relieving. Pregnancy asks a lot of a partner, he admitted, but he knew I could handle it. He’d be there to help me through as much as he could, but he also had to be honest that it would come with sacrifices. But he reminded me that it would also come with great pleasure. He told me that he promised to dote on me everyday, that I wouldn’t believe how good it would feel to be fucked mercilessly by my baby’s daddy, that labour was another way to demonstrate my love for him. And every labour would get easier than the last, because of course we wouldn’t stop once we’d start. That’s when things clicked. I imagined him getting home every night from work to find me in my lingerie, ready to relieve his stress. I imagined how he’d walk beside me in public, showing off to my family how he’s owned my body. I imagined, finally, a few years from now, pregnant again, pushing a stroller with our others, with him and I chatting about buying a new house out in the country so we’d have room for even more. I realized as we walked that my instinct to be his breeding partner was buried deeply in my DNA and that I couldn’t deny its appeal. Knowing he’d done it before with someone else only made me want to show him I could do it too, even better than his ex. When I told him all of this, he reached out to my face and caressed it softly, telling me that he’d known this all along. It was an instinct he had the first time we met. And then he pulled out his cock and ordered me to earn his baby. Reader, I got to work right away.

That’s it, slut, you’re about be a mommy. You aren’t leaving this room until it’s with my kid stuffed up your pussy. Cmon, princess, milk daddy’s fat cock, you gotta earn your first child. Yeah, just like that, nice and deep. Show daddy how much you want this, princess. Are you going to give daddy a son? That’s right princess, squeeze your hole, don’t let any of my cum drip out. We’re going to do this all night until I’m sure you’re knocked up, baby.