okay so knock me up, then.

If this turns you on, we can be friends 🤣😍

Not just simple pats, but full-on stroking with a bit of lotion or oil to slick my touch. I've adored doing it ever since you started to show, the faint bulge of your abdomen feeling like heaven beneath my fingers. Seeing you like this is an ever-present reminder of how we got here-- countless nights of slow, sensual lovemaking, quick afternoon romps, and the occasional rough fuck when the mood arose.

Okay

Suppose we're having a homebirth, and we're both eager to draw things out as long as possible.

While you're in labor, I'll keep you in bed as much as possible, getting you things if you need them, but making sure you spend nearly all of your time laying back in bed with your hips propped up on a pillow, making sure each contraction does as little as possible, letting your belly clamp down over and over again with the smallest possible result each time.

Eventually, to the chagrin of both of us, your cervix is fully dilated and you start to feel an immense pressure low down in your hips. However, this doesn't mean you have to just give up and give birth. It feels like a watermelon is trying to slide its way through your cervix but you hold back, panting like mad as you try to work through the near-overwhelming fullness of your baby trying to come out. I keep your hips elevated as you breathe through your body's urge to bear down, letting you squeeze my hand whenever it gets to be too much and helping nudge your legs back together when you try and spread them to give birth.

You can't hold back forever, though. As much as I'd love to watch you keep breathing through the contractions for all eternity, and as much as you'd love to do exactly that, your refusal to push just can't last forever. You give a heroic effort, but all it takes is a single lapse of concentration before you're bearing down full-force. You're so full, so desperate to bear down that a single, endless push is enough to bring your baby all the way to your opening before my hand starts to hold it in place.

"It's okay honey, just push now, let it all out," and you sure have a lot to let out. You bear down again and again against the unyielding wall of my hand between your legs, keeping the head in place while I tease your clit with a vibrator to help you lose control. Most of the time, I barely let it touch you, giving you only a few brief moments of real stimulation at the peak of your pushes to encourage you to bear down as hard as possible and help you let out everything you've been holding back for the past few hours. I don't let you cum yet - it's not nearly time for that - but, eventually, you regain a measure of control over yourself anyways.

I help you slide your way into a one-piece swimsuit, one or two sizes too small for you, before you get up. It presses against you everywhere, but you feel the tightness of the suit especially keenly when you're almost immediately forced to bear down again. You push hard as you collapse to the floor, and manage to push the head out a fair distance against the stretchy fabric, but you let out a groan when you feel the suit push the head almost all the way back inside. God, this is perfect - this desperate frustration, this loss of control, the simple fact of knowing that you can't give birth right now no matter how much you try - it's better than you could have ever imagined.

You push again and again, in love with the feeling of your lips stretching as the head bulges out of you. It's not long before you discover that, if you angle your hips just right, your clit will rub up against the fabric of your swimsuit as the head moves in and out of. You take full advantage of this, pushing in short, sharp bursts to feel the head move as much as possible and rocking your hips in time with your pushes to feel the swimsuit rub as much as possible. You're red-faced and breathing hard, so close to cumming from the feeling of pushing your baby's head in and out, when I gently pull you off the floor, reminding you that we have errands we need to run today, that of course they can't just wait until you give birth, how else could you hold off from pushing in the store.

You manage to wrangle yourself into a skirt and top that aren't too ill-fitting, and we set off for the grocery store. You're not very comfortable at all on the car ride over, constantly squirming and groaning as the tight-confines of the vehicle don't let you spread your legs nearly as much as you want to, and as the baby's head is pressed back inside you by the seat. You feel so full between your legs, there's so much pressure, you can barely stay in your seat long enough for us to get where we're going.

The store is nearly completely empty at this hour - most of the people shopping here are either dead-tired, hungover, or both, and the staff don't care nearly enough to bother us. Still, you do your best to try to walk, rather than waddle, to stand up straight when the contractions hit you, to keep from groaning when you feel like you have to push. I take you around the store, largely as an excuse to make you stand and walk while you're in labor; we both know that we don't really need any of this stuff nearly that urgently, but I can see how flushed you are from the experience of trying not to give birth in such a public place. I can tell that you're pushing - you give the tiniest of grunts each time you bear down - but your face gives nothing away, even as you feel your clit rub against the fabric underneath your skirt each time the head bulges out of you.

The experience of birth is getting to you, though. There's too much stretching, too much pressure, too many contractions, too much teasing on your clit for you to handle. You discreetly tug on my sleeve as you quietly beg, "please, it's too much, I need… something, anything."

In response, I pull you over to a more isolated part of the store, an aisle near the back that should be almost totally deserted.

"Do you need to cum?" I ask.

You nod. "Please…"

"Okay, here-"

I help you lower yourself from a standing position to a wide-legged squat, pressing my hand beneath your skirt to cup the bulge between your legs as you feel another contraction start to build up.

"Push for me now."

You give in to the pressure inside you, pressing the head downwards agains the cloth covering your crotch. I can feel the bulge the head makes, sliding out farther than before with the help of gravity. The head burns so much as it makes its way out, but you gasp softly when you feel me press the fabric harder against your clit, heightening the sensation when you push, and again when you let go and when the head slides so far back in you.

"Good, good. You got the head so far out. Keep pushing. If you can manage to get to a full crown, I'll let you cum."

You bear down again, eager to finally earn some relief. You do your best while you push, keeping it going for as long as you can, but the fabric over the head provides too much resistance. You can get the head most of the way out, gasping and panting as you feel yourself stretch so far open and as your clit rubs against the suit, but it's never quite enough. This pattern repeats itself over and over. You push, and love the feeling as you do, but it's never quite enough to get off on (I make sure of it), and whenever you rest to breathe, you lose every bit of your progress.

Soon, you start to get desperate. You really want to cum, and you've been squatting and pushing in a grocery store aisle for far too long now. You start to take short, desperate breaths between long, drawn-out pushes, hoping to "catch" the head before it slides all the way inside you. You push and you push, inching the head out each time as you stretch wider and wider, straining as hard as you can against the increasingly strict resistance of the swimsuit holding the head in. With one last, desperate effort, you manage to push the head to a full crown, mouth open in a silent scream at the overwhelming burning as the head stretches you. You feel the rough fabric of your suit grind into the most sensitive part of your body as I press my fingers hard against your clit. Your legs shake as you cum, stretched out and squatting down in public, barely able to keep your noises of pleasure and pain inside. You nearly cry out again as you let go of your push and feel your suit drag against your clit again as the head is forced back inside you at record speed.

It takes you a few moments to recover from this, clinging on to my shoulders to make sure you don't fall over backwards, but eventually you manage to stand unsupported. A few furtive looks around the place confirm no one has seen our little escapade (or, at least, didn't stick around to gawk), and we make a hasty, shamefaced exit from the store.

This is far from the end of your birthing ordeal, of course. I'm nowhere near done with holding your baby's head inside you, and you're nowhere near done with having it held inside you. You'll spend hours more wearing that suit, pushing and pushing and getting exactly nowhere, and it'll be much, much longer after that before you finally, exhaustedly, birth your baby, but this askbox only extends so far, and I must end this tale somewhere.

Hope you enjoy!

Me

the fact that tumblr had the sheer audacity not to notify me about this? what the fuck

Caio has always been on the fitness side of life. If there was something he took way much care of, it was his physique.

He was lucky, he was the prototype of a nice body: tall, naturally strong and always in shape despite the little effort.

So when he started gaining weight, all of sudden and apparently from nowhere, to say he was whining and huffing about it was an understatement.

It wasn't that noticeable at first; just his thighs becoming a little softer, his arms a bit more flappy instead of firm and toned, and then his abs slowly disappearing.

He wasn't even that mad about it at first, he still looked good with a few more kilograms than intended.

But then his stomach started to swell, even when he tried his hardest not to: he started a more than strict diet, worked out almost seven days a week and stopped drinking any kind of alcohol.

Still, that stubborn fat that now started to settle around his hips and stomach wasn't going away that easily.

And then the months went away, and the more he tried to get all that stubborn fat to go away, the more his body seemed to laugh at him and make it worse.

His clothes stopped fitting, and having to get new ones was the most embarrassing thing, and then the new ones stopped fitting and Caio simply lost it.

He could barely look down at his own feet without his belly getting in the way.

Sure, he maybe was eating a bit more, but not so much to make him look… almost pregnant.

His stomach, now so huge that it was barely covered by his usual shirts, rested usually naked in front of him.

At home, he was just shirtless. And when he had to go outside, he would try to wear loose shirts, big sweaters, anything that would hide the disaster his body became.

Too busy with all the dieting and all the exercise, not once did it cross his mind the night he spent with his co-worker eight months ago. A quick, raw meeting after work that had both of them too horny to care for protection.

Maybe the idea crossed his mind once or two, on this desperate journey of trying to get back in shape, but as soon as Caio thought about it, he pushed it far into the back of his mind.

He wasn't pregnant. And all that uncomfortable movement that came paired with the weight gain? Probably just some gas.

Caio lifted his leg on the couch with a groan, moving —as best as he could— to tie his shoes. Even the most simple of the task became almost impossible over the months with that unwanted belly.

Then the other foot. Once he was ready with both feet, he zipped up the only one of his Nike jackets that still fitted comfortably and made his way to the door.

He was stopped by one of those back pains that had been bothering him for the past few days.

"Fuck…" Caio groaned, his hand moving to massage his back when the cramp didn't go away.

He didn't feel like running today, in fact, he felt awful today.

His whole body ached, his feet were killing him and then there were the cramps and the back pain that had been bothering him so much these days.

But if there was something else Caio didn't lose in these months was his discipline. He wasn't one for skipping his days of workout, and he was gonna run today.

***

The run started to feel like a bad decision when his aching back and upset stomach had him bending over himself, stopping every few steps to catch his breath.

He felt like he was going to puke his guts any moment now.

He rushed to sit down on the first bench he saw, and he was glad that there was no one around to see him like that.

One of his hands moved to caress his tight stomach, trying to ease whatever that was going inside, and his free hand moved to massage his back. Another cramp.

Taking a deep breath, Caio leaned forward, his eyes closed while he waited for the pain to pass.

After a minute, when the pain subsided, he forced himself to stand again, trying to start jogging again.

His effort lasted little because soon, the feeling of something making its way down his pelvis made him stop dead in his tracks.

Something was trying to come out of him.

Panic gripped him. Did he need a bathroom?

Well, fuck off. There was no way anything was coming out of him right now.

Taking a shaky breath, Caio forced his legs to move again, trying to go as fast as he could back to his apartment, ignoring the growing discomfort in his middle.

Every step was harder than the last one, and Caio was unable to point out what was wrong.

When he reached the last street before his apartment, his body forced himself to stop when a particularly hard cramp took over his bloated stomach.

Leaning against a lamppost, Caio breathed deeply, closing his eyes while he massaged his stomach.

The moment he was ready to start walking again, another cramp hit. Caio let out a loud whimper.

A gush of water flooded between his legs, staining his new pair of pants and his new shoes, and Caio looked down in total awe.

"The fuck…?" he panicked, trying to look down past his stomach.

He didn't have a single moment to catch his breath, because soon something was coming out of him and his own body was pushing.

"Fuck!" the man cried, feeling how his body wasn't obeying his wishes of keeping inside whatever was inside of him.

With trembling legs, Caio forced himself to keep moving. He needed to reach home somehow.

The man walked-waddled his way home with an uncomfortable and unknown weight between his legs, trying to come out.

When he barely reached the door to his building, Caio stumbled inside, letting out a loud moan as soon as he was alone.

He cursed his landlord for not fixing the elevator yet, and with a quiet whimper, Caio fought his way to the stairs.

As soon as he tried to climb one step higher than a knee, he felt a burning sensation between his legs, and his body forced him down to a squat.

"My fucking God..!"

When the need to just let go and push was so overwhelming that he couldn't even crawl, he decided to give up.

As soon as he decided to cooperate with his body, allowing the pressure between his legs to start coming out, he let out another scream as the impossibly huge weight made its way out of his hole.

With desperate hands Caio reached to pull his pants down, reaching inside his underwear to find... a head?

A fucking baby's head?

Caio screamed out again when the head kept making his way out, and he reached to pull his legs back, giving into pushing.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck!" he cried, his voice breaking as he kept pushing.

He didn't even know where to begin to explain how a baby was crowning between his legs, but it was happening, and fast. With another push, the head came out of him with a gush of birth fluid.

Caio had to force his legs wide apart and keep pushing.

The rest of the body took him even more effort, but soon, he found himself staring at the crying baby in front of him.

I’m showing now, but I try to hide it under baggy clothes as I can (hard bc of how hot it is here this summer).

I was at a bar with friends this past weekend (designated driver, I’m being a good little incubator for my stranger’s little offspring). I went to take a leak and a drunk guy followed me in - he’d seen my belly under my hoodie while I was dancing and knew I had a womb. It was scary but he said he wouldn’t say anything if I just let him play with it 🙈

I pulled my pants down and he started to finger me deep and so rough, I was loving it so much and be was stroking himself. Then the next thing I know he’s bent me over the sink and stuck his c0ck in me. He railed me in the middle of the mens room holding my bump and looking at me in the mirror the whole time. When he unloaded in me he grunted and mined so loud I was afraid someone else would hear. (Sadly they didn’t).

Sexiest moment of my entire pregnancy so far 🙈

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck this is so hot. I remember the first time a hook up caught my just barely swollen belly and idk what it is about men who see that shit and just lose their minds but I love it. He fucking railed me like he was trying to put a twin in my womb, ended up forcing two messy orgasms out of me before pumping me full.

oh this is Excellent

just going around your day-to-day activities, growing bigger and bigger each day without quite knowing what's going on--you've got plenty of excuses and explanations ready to go, and you keep having to use them. it's just water weight--you're just bloated--surely you're not pregnant and then before you know it you're huge and it takes your babies kicking hard and everything else leaking to properly realize that. no. you are pregnant. more than that, you're beyond heavily pregnant with the weight of your well-occupied womb hanging off of you, and you've still got months to go--if you're this big now, how much more are you gonna grow?? your partner's eager to spoil you, fortunately enough, and that's Perfect given the fact that you know you've only got a few more weeks before your belly's too big to let you move. you've been waddling since so early on, back when you really did think it was nothing more than a little bit of bloating, but as you get heavier and heavier, you start to rely more on your partner's assistance to get things done. you're so achy and over-sensitive, with sore breasts to tend to and buckets of pregnancy hormones keeping you hot and needy the whole time--good thing you've got somebody who's more than willing to attend to your every need! because with how horny you are? the fact that you can't reach yourself with your belly in the way is criminal