Mpreg / NBpreg / Bellies In General

maybe my tits have swollen up to twice the size they used to be. my partner has started to milk them to relieve some of the pressure, but it just causes my chest to be even more puffy and sensitive. my body expecting to have to feed more mouths than just the two inside me. i start leaking in the parenting aisle. it's my usual milking time and my tits ache with need. milk buds at my nipples as wet spots start to appear on my shirt.

my partner, ever so dutiful. lifts my shirt up in the privacy of the books and latches onto one of my leaky nipples. he sucks as my milk fills his mouth. i shake, my belly quivers as he teases my popped navel, i try to stay quiet. we're in a library afterall.

he switches between my tits, sucking and tugging at my breasts to get all the excess milk out. it drips down the curve of my stomach. at the end my nipples are so puffy and sensitive a cool breeze would make me moan.

my partner shoves his hand down my pants, finally giving my throbbing t-dick some attention. he tells me that it's not my fault for leaking, and that it's natural for boys to have fat milky tits that drip all the time. that just happens sometimes when a boy has such a big taut tummy full of babies like i do. i cum, obviously, like a good bunny does.

A pregnant belly should always be big enough to be seen from behind.

And I want to be so huge that its impossible to hide or to be mistaken. I want my belly to be as wide as my shoulders if not wider! I want people to go wide-eyed when they see me in public.

Before I got pregnant for the third time. Bra size somewhere between G and H. Mostly wearing sports bras because they stretch and are soft. And also not as expensive.

I’ll arch my back, hand firmly placed on my lower spine, just to try and carry it but the weight of the huge belly you’ve given me will just sink farther and farther down into my hips; the oblong shape of the belly will keep pulling me forward and down. I won’t be able to waddle anywhere without letting out desperate little grunts, each step forward a monumental effort to manage the huge load you’ve given me to haul around.

My hands will restlessly shift from the top of the rounded curve to my back, as I shift my weight from side to side, and then desperately try to hold up some of the weight from the bottom of my belly. But nothing I do provides relief for long, especially as my belly hangs low on my hips the farther along I get in this pregnancy, overdue by days….so I continue to restlessly moan as I try to move anywhere.

My dream is to spend some of each year of this upcoming decade pregnant.

Get a few Irish twins out of it.

Hopefully get a set of actual twins out of it.

Breastfeed my newest born, cradling them above by forever-swollen belly. When I'm not nursing them, I'm nursing whoever has filled me up this time.

Constantly buy new maternity clothes as I outgrow last pregnancy's items each time. By the time I reach 39, the maternity tanks I got for my first pregnancy are barely crop tops on me.

I want a decade of moaning, grunting, and sighing as I struggle with a bulging, shifting globe between my hips. I want hands constantly on my bare skin, tracing stretchmarks that eventually become more like tattoos, pressing against the movements of a child, or children, who is stretching me to my limit.