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My mind quickly goes to, "well, maybe they chose the wrong partner or they gave up this gift too quickly. They want something I have. It may not be these babies, but it very well could be the absolutely indulgent sex they are imagining us having to make these babies, or the heat I feel for him to WANT His babies growing in me, heat they wish they felt."

Chris has a evil way of whispering in my ear when I start to get bashful or insecure at the way I am being shown off and how my body isn't the youthful vision I imagine everyone else's body to be, is that "they" wish they were me. They wish they could have what I have. The mark that his seed has imprinted upon my body. How big the babies I grow for him are and how active they are within me. How delicious my tits look as my blouse slowly soaks through and outlines my large nipples and sticks to my skin. They want.. and can not have.

I melt.. I can't focus anymore.. I can only see how badly they want something I have.. and god, do I ever flaunt it so much harder..

This is precisely the mindset G cultivates in me, and I hear the same understanding in your words. We are both leading lives that make people envious, carrying the seed of men that women dream of, living sex lives that shatter most imaginations.

I am forty-five, pregnant with multiples, enormous and obvious and completely unapologetic. When women stare, I know they are calculating what it would cost them to have what we have. The answer is everything. They would have to surrender as I have surrendered, as you have surrendered. They would have to want it as badly as we want it. They would have to find men willing to keep them pregnant, to mark them repeatedly, to display them as G displays me, as Chris displays you.