Enjoying The View

Eventually he had to drop out, getting too far along to keep up. I’d visit him after classes as his belly only swelled bigger. “Twins,” he said one evening laid back on his mattress rubbing a hand along the riding up band tee. It didn’t seem to phase him, only made him more attractive, fertile.

Now here he was, whimpering, face pressed up against the brick of the alleyway. My strap hilt deep in his swollen cunt. We could hear the music through the wall as the concert continued.

His belly hung low, held in only by his t shirt. I reach around and push it up causing it to sink lower with gravity, the babies’s weight shifting.

“It hurts.” He whines, his eyeliner running down his face as he turns to look over his shoulder. I can feel his belly tighten under my palm. I push my hand under his shirt and cup his swollen pec and roll his nipple in my fingers.

i’d touch him sparingly and let him do most of the work. i’d reach around and touch his ass, feel it bulge and part as the rotund head of our child would fill his pelvis so completely it wouldn’t spare bulging his perineum or asshole. his thighs would shake against mine as he pushed, but it would take him hours to even get our child to crown.