mpreg hobbyist

The moment you feel that pain, you know what's coming… oh, and the desire to be touched and kissed also comes to mind, you want it.

NICE ASS MANNN

I woke up with my abdomen swollen and hard, like the twins had pulled an insane growth spurt overnight. At 22, the difference from just a week ago was ridiculous; my skin was tight, and my core muscles felt stretched to the absolute limit.

When I got up, my boyfriend—the coach—looked me up and down, dead-set on stopping me.

"You’re huge. You can't play, you're gonna snap," he blurted out, staring at my stomach with that mix of anxiety and control.

I didn't bother arguing with words. I pressed myself against him, driving my belly into his hip, feeling my still-defined abs tighten under his touch. I grabbed his hand and forced it down, dragging it across the hard, hot curve of my stomach so he could feel the firmness for himself. I whispered right in his ear, using my body as my only leverage. He went completely speechless when he felt that heat and the pressure of my skin against his. He dropped his guard, totally surrendering.

On the pitch, the ache low in my stomach was constant—a dull throb that spiked with every sprint. But I didn't stop. I scored two goals, moving with that raw power I'm known for, ignoring how heavy and stretched my body felt. By the time I finished, my jersey was glued to me with sweat, outlining every single ripple of my abs and the disproportional roundness of my belly.

Now, off the field, the pain is sharp and stinging. I’m touching the area, feeling my muscles trying to pull themselves back together while the swelling just drains me. I’m absolutely spent, pushed to the brink, needing him to take care of what’s left of me after those 90 minutes.

Uffff que gordito que estás 🫦 que comiste?!

Jajajaja, tome mucha leche… 🫃

Ugh, honey, you're so fat! What did you eat? 🫦

Hahaha, what did I eat? You know... I drank a lot of milk…🫃🫃🫃

31. for now

1.78 | Muscle | 86kg

In my house i can’t move.

Dijeron que me iba a costar, que no era para mí... y acá me ven, a término, cargando el futuro con la misma seguridad de siempre. El cuerpo se transforma, la actitud jamás. La última recta bajo el sol

He’d been sitting there half-distracted, soda in hand, absentmindedly lifting his shirt like he always did these days… and then the baby kicked.

Everything else faded after that.