don't push

Carter just shook his head and laughed. It was impossible to say no to her, after years of happiness and bearing the most beautiful children in the world, he wasn’t one to turn down her desires. They should go straight to the hospital, but why not spoil her a bit? 

“If we get you a BigMac does that mean no charcuterie board after the baby is here?” He asked. The look she gave him was enough to make him laugh even harder. As if to say ‘Why not both?’ “Ok ok, I know better than to keep you away.” He turned their off the interstate. As he’d done with every pregnancy, he drove one handed, the other hand possessively rubbing her swollen midriff. Stacey was one of those women who always looked good, especially while pregnant, and Carter wanted her to know.

The Golden Arches grew closer, and he turned into the large parking lot, weaving around the cars to find the drive thru lane.

“So is this Big Mac going to have an absurd number of pickles in it? Or are we going for mustard today?” He asked her, finally finding the line. It was long, but usually this location moved pretty fast.

“Mmm… pickles still sound good to me, even in labour. Oooohhh—” Stacey’s hum for the pickles seamlessly turned into a muted groan as the next contraction rolled in just as they entered the drive-thru line. 

Pressing her hands into the seat underneath, lifting her hips up a fraction, she pressed her head back against the headrest and breathed long and slow breaths. Though the contractions had stalled at 6 minute intervals, they were still strong enough to knock the wind out of her and stop her from talking. A soft moan joined every exhale while her knees naturally moved in and out, in and out, trying to find some comfort through the steady pressure sitting in the bowl of her pelvis. 

Stacey smiled when it was over, relaxing back into the seat, and her head rolled on the headrest to face her adoring husband. 

“Big Mac… extra pickles, large fries… oh and don’t forget the nuggets as well.” The idea of food was the perfect distraction for her mind, her mouth salivating at the thought of the grease and sauce of the burger. Her husband laughed at her order, the same order she got during every pregnancy. 

“Alright then honey.” He said. Her contraction hadn’t put him off at all, there was no panic, no concern. At this point they both knew her body so well that there wasn’t any doubt the baby would be here within the next few hours. Plenty of time. 

The line moved at a glacial pace, Carter and Stacy just chatting away between contractions about anything and everything. From the outside they looked simply like a normal couple, out to get fast food on their way somewhere. His hand had shifted from her belly to her thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze that was actually the reason for this pregnancy. They’d tracked the conception to a particular session in their minivan after realizing they had some time to spare before picking up the kids from Stacey’s parents house.

“Wonder if the ice cream machine is broken or something.” Carter wondered aloud. “This line never moves this slow.” They still had six cars between them and where they ordered. Behind them the line stretched all the way to the street. 

“Maybe… the machine in there is always so temperamental.” Stacey said distractedly, leaning forwards to adjust the angle of the A/C so it hit her neck and chest that was gathering sweat with each contraction.

“Fair point.” He conceded.

As the next contraction struck, her legs widened in the seat and her head went back against the headrest, humming low, long sounds towards the ceiling. Her hands shot sideways, one grabbing the handle of the door while the other found his forearm and squeezed tight. 

“Mmmmmghh— oh fuck—” she huffed a complaint mid-way through the wave. The contraction was sharp and focused, forcing her to pant a little through its intensity. 

Carter glanced at the watch on his left wrist, finding that the contractions still haven’t breached the six minute mark. How long would this go on? He wasn’t upset about it per se, but he and Stacey both had been so eager to meet their new baby that for the labor to stagnate like this was almost frustrating.

“Damn.” He grumbled. “They’re still pretty far apart, honey. That one was almost six and a half minutes between.” After so many kids, Carter was used to her vice grip, and could tell by the tightness that it wasn’t quite to the level she would be when actively evicting their baby. With the van in park he brought his hand over to rub her belly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You know the routine, just breathe, in, and out. Nose to mouth like always.” Carter didn’t need to explain, Stacey’s knowledge trumped his when it came to these things and he knew it. But it never hurt to distract and redirect.

Stacey returned the kiss, even while panting through the contraction, the pair syncing into a familiar comforting rhythm. Carter’s hand made large swirling circles around her belly, both possessive and affectionate in its movement. When it was over she relaxed back into her seat, slumping a little to the side to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“Maybe it’s cos I’m a week overdue…? They seem to be taking their sweet time to come out.” 

Stacey was wearing her maternity leggings that she had rolled down and the waistband disappeared beneath the swell of her full womb. Her shirt was bunched under her engorged breasts, belly on full gravid display. Even though the contraction had passed, her skin was still taut and firm and stretched to capacity. Carter’s hands were a comfort but also provided an enjoyable and pleasurable distraction. 

Carter moved the van forward, keeping one hand on her belly, rolling them a car’s length closer to the ordering booth. 

“They take after their mother.” He said, eyes remaining on the line as his fingers expertly explored her belly. It was not a secret that he loved her body. Whether she was pregnant or not, Carter took care whenever they were intimate to explore everything. After the first baby, he’d doted on Stacey during the weeks following birth, helping with massages as well as any after care she requested. That probably was the reason they had Irish twins with their first two babies. 

Carter found her navel, its little popped out perfectly round blemish on her belly was his favorite this pregnancy. He glided over it with his thumb before migrating south, finding her tight underbelly and the subtle lines of stretch marks. Carter chuckled, the thoughts in his mind less than clean as he wondered how long till she was carrying baby five. He glanced at his wife, and the look she gave told him she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Hmmm…. I know that look.” Stacey mused, shifting in her seat a little to sit straighter, to put more of her own body weight against the cushion of the chair, providing needed counter pressure against her crotch. “I swear you get more and more insatiable with every pregnancy. If I ever had twins I think you’d explode.” 

The car filled with Stacey’s husky giggle, the look in Carter’s eyes said more than words ever could. Then Stacey went quiet, eyes closing and hips sliding to the edge of the seat, her breath coming in short sharp pants. 

“Ohhh—ohhhhhh—” she moaned, low, barely a rumble with the noise of the engine running. But her change in position was clear, her hands hooking under her knees and pulling them apart instinctively. The pressure was astronomical, wrapping around her entire core and squeezing tight. Wider, she had to get wider. 

Carter looked at her, really taking the time to give her a thorough examination. He knew his wife, some days he knew her better than she knew herself. They’d joked that he could smell when she was about to ovulate, but it was true, he couldn’t explain it but she was different around that time. Obviously that wasn’t happening currently, in fact it was quite the opposite. Beneath his hand her stomach tightened, and the way she shifted put him in mind of their second born. A realization came, and he sighed.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re gonna have much time to eat that Big Mac.” He said, shifting his hand from her belly to her thigh. With her legs slightly lifted, he ran the length with his hand, all the way from her knees to where her belly prevented access to their child’s exit. “You’re doing that leg thing you did with Mackenzie.”

“Ugh— what t-thing—?” Stacey grunted, then looked down and saw how far she’d pulled her knees apart and her trembling thighs. An unconscious action to make more space. Letting go of her knees before the contraction had fully ebbed away, she grimaced and pulled her legs together, well as much as she was able. 

“M-no, I’m f-fine. Hoooo—” her words laced over her breathy exhales. 

The baby was low. That fact was undeniable. But the contractions had stalled at 6 minutes apart for the last two hours, so there was no way that she actually needed to push. It was probably just the angle she was sitting, making it feel more urgent than it really was. 

Looking up at the line of cars in front, two more before they could even order, Stacey swore under her breath. “I just want a Big Mac for fucks sake…”

“Next time we should just order on the phone. They bring food out to cars now.” Stacey was starting to sweat, her bare skin glistening. Carter removed his hand just long enough to turn the AC on to what he called its ‘arctic’ setting. She overheated too easily this late in pregnancy, so he hoped maybe the cold air would ease her into relaxing. 

Another contraction came before the car in front moved to the order window. Carter took his wife’s hand, letting her have something to squeeze. It looked like she’d shifted her weight, her hips more towards the center of the seat rather than at the base of the back rest. Her belly hung too low for him to see between her legs, not that there was anything to see anyways. The damned contractions were taking a long time to speed up, but with the line that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Might be appropriate to name this kid ‘Patience’.” He said, absently reaching into the back seat for Stacey’s large water bottle he always ensured was full. He sat it between them, the quiet clinking of ice against metal inside the only sound besides Stacey’s irregular breathing. “Get a drink baby.” 

“Hmmm…. Well they’re certainly testing mine.” Stacey said with a joking sternness of a pissed-off mother. She kept one hand on her taut belly as she grabbed the giant water bottle, taking a big gulp through the metal straw. 

The weight in her pelvis was making itself known more with every passing contraction. Stacey found herself circling her hips, grinding against the cushioned passenger seat of their car. It felt heavy, round and huge, and very familiar. Even without a contraction the pressure brought a whimper from her lips. 

“Mmgh— oh— baby’s definitely lower now babe….” Her words caught on the heaviness of her breathing, the end of her sentence punctuated with a husky exhale. 

“Ok, ok we are almost there.” Carter squeezed her hand. What should have been a quick ten minute trip to get her a burger before heading to the hospital was now bordering on thirty, and they hadn’t even been able to order yet. “Do you want me to grab the blanket? We can roll it up and put it behind your back.” 

Stacey shook her head, pushing her hands down into the seat, lifting her hips a fraction and moving them in wide circles. God— the pressure was only getting worse, nothing seemed to help. 

“Mm—no, no blanket… don’t want anything touching my skin right now…” she mumbled, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the movement of her hips, not fully recognising what or why she was doing it, her body unconsciously helping to bring the head down a fraction more. 

“I’d rather not be wearing anything at all… but the poor McDonald’s staff would get a f-fright when you wind down the w-w-windows…” Stacey laughed through a drawn out exhale, her breathing becoming deeper and more concentrated. 

“Being naked in this van is how we got into this situation in the first place honey.” Carter said, fondly recalling that night. “And besides, tinted windows are a wonder. I’ll help you strip as soon as we have the order. At least get your shirt off so you can cool down.” He wasn’t looking at her, instead anticipating pulling forward. Carter muttered under his breath as they finally pulled forward. The minivan moved, his window rolling down as it did.

“Welcome to McDonalds what can I get for you today?” The employee asked, the sound loud and shrill through the speakers.

“Hey, can I get a Big Mac meal? Triple the pickles and add a sweet tea.”

While Carter started ordering through the intercom Stacey took his advice and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head and throwing it over her shoulder into the backseat. It felt like her skin was on fire, every pore too hot, too sensitive. In just her comfy, well worn, maternity bra and leggings, she closed her eyes and rocked forward and back on the seat. Her focus moved inward, tuning out the conversation happening out the driver's side window.  

“I’m sorry sir but we are out of tea.”

Carter sighed. “Of course you are.” The loudness making his ears ring. “What about a milkshake then? Strawberry.”

“Our ice cream machine is broken…”

As if waiting for him, Carter spotted a customer walking out of the McDonalds with an ice cream cone.

“There’s literally someone in the parking lot with an ice cream!”

“Don’t know what to tell you, you can't get ice cream.”

“Jesus fuckin… then a Diet Coke.”

Another contraction. Another spike of that tight unyielding pressure thundering down between her hips. She gasped for air. It was too strong, too forceful, never ending. Stacey’s legs parted and she bent forward, bracing against the dashboard, her full and firm womb hanging low between her spread thighs. She’d been so focused on her food, on those glorious damn pickles, and yet there was no denying this contraction meant business. Before her brain had time to recognise what she was feeling, her muscles were clamping down and squeezing around the large mass in her pelvis. Unconsciously and automatically pushing. 

“Ok I have a Big Mac meal, no pickles, and a Diet Coke to drink. Is that all?”

“No, I said extra pickles.” Carter's frustration was palpable. “Miss, it isn’t that hard. Big Mac, extra pickles.”

“You can lose the attitude, mister.” 

“Just tell me what I owe.” Carter fumed. He was so done with the bullshit. 

“$17.85 at the second window.”

“Whatever.” He muttered, turning his attention back to the line in front of him.

Stacey’s hand suddenly gripped the door handle, the other pressing into the seat to angle her hips up. Gasping a deep ragged breath, her body bore down uncontrollably once more. 

Carter started to pull forward, turning to his wife to go off about the terrible customer service when he saw Stacey’s face. The movements and breathing were so familiar to all the other births, and that didn’t bode well.

“Stace? Baby are you pushing?” He asked, his tone slowly shifting into panic. Her womb visibly shrunk, the outline of her uterus clear as day as the most intense contraction he’d seen yet came over her. “Nonono, Stacey are you pushing?!”

The grunt of effort echoed around the car, her knees wide and shaking. “Nnnnghh!!! Can’t— can’t help it— oh fuck—”

Stacey released the push, slumping back into her seat and pulling in lungfuls of air after her sudden bout of pushing. 

“I… I couldn’t stop it…. Oh Carter…. I think this baby has finally decided it’s time…” 

“What?!” Carter was clearly in a full on panic now. He laid on the horn to the minivan, its effect useless against the congested line of cars waiting for food. All it did was create more frustration among the other patrons. Car horns echoed, though not for the same reason as him. “Stacey I forbid you to give birth in the McDonalds drive-thru!” He twisted the steering wheel, as if he wasn’t boxed in by a building on one side and a cement wall on the other. 

“You think I want to be doing this here?!?!” Stacey snapped back, both hands splayed across her belly as she glared at her husband. “Hooooo— I don’t want to g-give birth in a drive-thru either—”

Shouting could be heard beyond the car doors, patrons getting angry and irate over the queue they were all stuck in. Drivers hanging out windows and swearing at each other. Stacey meanwhile was panting, rocking forward and back instinctively, her maternity bra already failing to contain the milk leaking from her nipples. 

“Mmmmgh… no… not another one…. Oh ohhhh I need to push a-again…” 

“Shit, shit shit no you don’t. Stacey y-you don't need to push!” Carter looked over at her, eyes wide. Her legs were as spread as they could be, her knees pressing against the center console and the door. “We just have to get out of here, hospitals only ten minutes away.” Carter put a hand on her belly, feeling what could only be described as a flesh boulder from how hard it was. He could smell her amniotic fluid, the steady leak that came after her water had broken at home seeming to grow in its speed of expulsion. 

Carter stuck his head out the window, five cars before they got to the window where they pay, and another three to the pickup. Behind them the cars were stacked all the way to the street and beyond. They were trapped. 

The urge to bear down was all consuming, her body acting on its own familial instinct. With Carter’s hand on her bare belly, her own hand rose up and gripped around his bicep, pulling down and squeezing tight as her inner walls automatically pushed. Carter got yanked closer to her labouring body, awkwardly leaning over the centre console as she held onto him for dear life. Stacey tried to pant through the urges, resisting as much as possible, but the low rumbling grunts in his ear gave away each time her resolve broke. 

“Uhhhh— I think I can feel the head—” she gasped, the contraction reaching its peak and rattling a strained moan from deep in her chest. 

Two pushes… it had only taken two pushes and their overdue baby was already past her cervix and now stretching the birth canal wide. Every nerve ending in her body felt like pins and needles, the heavy impending weight of their child getting closer and closer towards her lower lips. 

Stacey was not a weak woman, during the birth of their first child she’d broken two of Carter's fingers thanks to a failed epidural injection. The grip on his arm was tight, and gave him a direct reference to just how intense the contractions were. He was already frantic, unable to get them where they needed to be, but now it was even worse since the head was descending.

“Dammit.” The curse sourced from deep inside. “Stacey…” Already being forced to lean, he brought his other hand around to her. Her overhanging belly made it difficult to see, but there was a creeping dark spot between her legs. How close was she? He reached, afraid of what he’d find. Her leggings may have been soiled, but there was no baby. “Try holding your breath or something. We're so close!” A bald faced lie, it was going to be at least thirty minutes before they got out of there and he knew it. But he had to try. 

She couldn’t help but scoff at the ridiculous suggestion, as if that would even remotely work. “C-Carter- if I hold my breath- I’ll end up pushing this baby out in seconds— hooooo— oh god there’s so much pressure—” 

Stacey clenched her hands into tight fits, rapidly breathing as another wave of tightness rippled across her full belly. “How the fuck did this progress so fast?… ohhhhh— I blame you— four kids! Four kids!!” 

It seemed that with each new addition to their family, the delivery of their child would take less and less time. The labours were still unpredictable, but when it came to transition and beyond, Stacey’s body knew all too well what was required. Their first she had been pushing for over three hours, but their third was born within 45 minutes of that first push. It was rapidly seeming like their fourth child wanted to beat that record. 

A space appeared in front of the minivan, the cars moving up one space. Carter put the car in gear and inched along the tarmac and pulled to another stop, his eyes barely leaving her. Stacey groaned, long and low, feeling her body bearing down even when she was actively trying to hold back. 

He was forced to adjust in his seat. Carter ignored how his wife’s moans made him feel. Today was not the day for them to get intimate during a birth. They’d done that with their second, enjoying a home birth with just the two of them while her mother watched their eldest. He loved his wife, loved her body no matter the shape, and she knew just how to work him up just as he did for her.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Uhh…” Carter looked in the back seat, the hospital bag sat next to the car seat and a spare duffel. He reached in, taking one of the towels out. Carter was thinking they may be able to block the baby coming, delay the inevitable by just a bit. “Breathe through them so you don’t push, like opposite Lamaze.” It sounded more idiotic out loud than it did in his head. “We should have gone for overalls…” 

It was like trying to breathe underwater, or to swim through quicksand - not pushing was impossible. “Ughhhhh— those overalls— stopped fitting me at 7 months—” Stacey grunted out, unable to stop the way her muscles clenched downwards around the baby in her pelvis. She owned a pair of grey overalls covered with a bright pattern of sunflowers. Carter always said she was glowing and blossoming whenever she wore it, but her large round baby bump managed to outgrow her husband’s favourite garment this time around. Even though it was maternity wear. 

Stacey hissed through her teeth, pushing once more and her left knee twitched up in the air unconsciously trying to make space between her hips. She only noticed when Carter’s hand squeezed her leg and moved it back down, sending a jolt of pressure back up into her pelvis. 

“No…. No… I need to…. Oh I wanna push….” The whine of desperation laced her words. His hands travelled up her thighs, guiding them closer together and she whimpered. 

“D-distract m-me— please—” she whispered breathlessly. 

That whine, oh God her voice was angelic even in desperation. Carter tried to think, there wasn’t anything here to use. Usually he’d hand her one of their other kids. They loved when their mommy told them about the new sibling that was coming. Without any options, he did the last thing he could think of. He shifted the car into park, the tinted windows up and preventing any wayward eyes from spotting what was happening. He moved his hand, pressing it between her shaking thighs as he leaned in close, whispering in her ear.

“I don’t have anything else I can do.” He said, his voice soft like a lovers. Carters lips met her cheek, silently praying that this would either distract her enough to stop pushing, or just give her a moments reprieve. “But maybe a little reenactment?” He whispered. “Of what led to this…” His fingers explored between her thighs while his other hand remained on her womb.

A soft shuddering moan left Stacey’s mouth, her hips bucking up to greet his palm. “Oh darling…. the baby’s right there…. so close…. I feel…. Ohhhh I feel so full…!” 

The brush of his lips against her cheek, the stubble deliciously scratching her over sensitive skin. Something new was coiling inside of her, mixing with the pressure of their fourth baby nudging down towards her entrance. “I-I’m bulging, aren’t I?…” she whispered. Turning her head, her loose hair stuck to the sweat on her neck and face, turning to face her husband whose nose was almost touching her own. Her chest hitched, chin tilting up, and Stacey kissed him deeply. Focusing her mind on the feel of his body against hers. 

“Not yet.” He breathed into her lips, his ring and middle fingers pressing a little harder into the fabric covering her womanhood. “But you will soon.” He felt his basketball shorts give under the pressure as his new method of distraction took effect on him. With a deftness to contradict the panicking man he was moments ago, he unbuckled his seatbelt, planting his knee on his seat as he half climbed to get better access. Memories of their session making love in the car flashed through his mind.

“I love that you keep giving us children.” His breathing hitched, and the temptation to lean her seat back grew exponentially.

“Oooohh—yes…. You k-keep making me… so big and round… fuck… so full of your children—” Stacey gasped, the urge to push returning and she started to pant heavily. 

Though Carter’s actions were very successful in their distraction technique, it didn’t put a stop to the natural urges of her body. Stacey’s legs parted again, her crotch grinding against his firm palm as she grunted another push. There was less effort behind the push than before, the pleasure occupying at least part of her bodily functions. 

The growl of desire that croaked from her husband matched the increase in pressure she was feeling inside of her vaginal walls, knowing there was now external signs of their impending child. 

“Oh the things I’d do to you.” He purred, his voice strained from the desire he couldn’t release. “If you weren’t in labor.” His fingers and palm met a force, and he grinned. They are stuck, there’s no hope of the hospital, no chance for help. This birth was just them and he would make it work. “There’s something down there, Stace.” He said, his hips making a subtle gesture as if he really was trying to give her another child. “Are you pushing again?” The world was forgotten around them, Carter not even realizing that the car in front had moved. 

The hand on her belly moved, coming up to cup her breast. The maternity bra may be absorbent, but even it had its limits. He squeezed, letting out a satisfied groan as her milk ran over his hand through the soaked fabric. He wanted her, more than anything. What started as him trying to help her was quickly shifting to a mutual need to get off. Carter lifted his leg, placing a foot between hers. His other knee remained on his seat, yet now he looked like he was ready to mount her. Carter didn’t though, instead continuing to rub his hand harder into her crotch, all the while feeling his own tighten beneath the elastic of his shorts. 

Licking her dry lips Stacey nodded, further confirmation of her pushing was echoed by the low rumbling sound she made. 

“…ooff… the urge to pppush…. is so s-strong…” she grunted, spreading her legs so wide in the passenger seat her knees hit the door. She gripped the door handle with one hand, her other reaching out to brace against his thigh above the knee that was pressed into his seat. Her eyes spotted the familiar tenting of his basketball shorts but she was too busy holding back her pushes to show her mischievous grin. 

“Mmmmgh… so heavy… so b-big… can you feel anything— what can you feel babe—?” 

She was practically squirming in their minivan, bare gravid belly on full display, tits leaking, while the pressure between her legs made her eyes roll and her head jolt back against the headrest. 

“I can feel you stretching Stacey.” His voice was velvet smooth. “Our baby is coming faster now that you’re… excited.” The last word was a gasp, his arousal reaching its peak as he watched his wife press back into the seat. The opening was taken, and he leaned in, his hot breath on her neck as he planted kiss after kiss. Fingers continued their work, while the hand on her breast unlatched the flap to free it. Between his index finger and thumb, he teased her nipple, knowing from the past that stimulation alone would help.

“I think.” He said, the kissing now up to her jawline. Stacey’s sweat was intoxicating to her husband, each time his lips planted against her skin he felt like he needed to do it a dozen more times to be satisfied fully. “We need to go for number five.” He finished, an audible groan deep in his chest. Her opening put pressure against his hand again, and he grinned, their baby was trying to come again.

Stacey shuddered beneath him, spread wide and open on the passenger seat of their car, stuck in the drive-thru queue. The way Carter rolled her engorged nipples between his fingers had her trembling, her arousal skyrocketing to the same levels as the desire to birth. The baby was so low… heavy, overdue and oh so close. Beneath her leggings she could feel her body pulsing, the steady slow parting happening inside her underwear. She couldn’t move, helpless under her husband with his hand firm against her crotch and peppering her body with desperate kisses. She panted heavily, riding out the waves of the contractions and embracing the pleasure building inside her body. 

“Ohhhh C-C-Carter— I wanna p-push—” she moaned. Stacey squeezed her thighs slightly around his hand, the act of closing her hips just a fraction increasing the strength of those ancient urges. Gasping, she almost revelled in the need to push without indulging. 

Carter hummed, her thighs tightening around his grip an all too familiar scenario. His rubbing became more intentional, taking on a pattern as he traced her bulging opening. He couldn’t stop himself from removing a hand from her breast to adjust his shorts, the pressure of the tenting fabric intense to the point of discomfort. Just as quickly, that same hand came to her neck, his palm gently pulling her off the headrest so he could bury his face in her collar more easily. 

“Push for me.” He said, his voice barely a whisper. “But… not too much.” As he spoke, his fingers slowed to make an agonizingly long stroke across her crotch, his own pleasure at teasing her making him moan into her skin. “Only a little push, enough to feel you opening up…”

Stacey nearly climaxed at his words alone. 

Gasping for breath her hands found his shoulders, hooking over her long nails as her belly squeezed with such force it shrunk in towards her spine. Carter’s stubble scratched her neck, sending shivers up her spine, his palm firm against her swollen womanhood while his fingers teased through the damp fabric. Baring her teeth, she finally submitted to the urge, intentionally pushing down down down. 

A strained groan rose up from her chest, quiet but full of effort. The baby moved, her body easily falling into the rhythm of childbirth. It had only taken two involuntary pushes for the babe to breach her cervix, but now, with its firm roundness pressing from the inside against her labia, she began to feel the true impact of being heavily overdue. 

“That’s my girl.” He said, cupping her crotch in his palm. Carters desires momentarily took over, and he pulled down his shorts just enough to allow some freedom. Even if the windows didn’t have a tint, he didn’t care. This moment was too magical and he needed to be unrestricted. His hand shifted between her legs, contorting so it made as much contact as possible. He rubbed up, and down, all the while he pulled her in for another kiss. His body was close enough now that she could smell him easily, that scent he left in their room every time they went at it filling her nose.

Drawn in like a moth to a flame Stacey arched up, her mouth open and ravenous. Their tongues were soon dancing, passionate and feral, his hand on her bulging entrance while her nails clawed into his back. She could feel his arousal, throbbing and hard, pressing against the curve of her full and swollen womb. 

The praise he’d gruffed into her ear when she had pushed on command was intoxicating. When her belly clamped up again with another contraction she tried to hold back, to wait, but the force was too strong and she found herself growling a grunt into his mouth when she pushed. 

“Pushing again?” He asked, smiling on her lips. “And without, mm, permission?” Carter was lost to it, he let go of her breast, needing something to use to catch his release. The back seat still had the bag, but all those were clean clothes meant for Stacey to leave the hospital. He found the next best thing, her discarded shirt she’d thrown during his attempt at ordering her food. As much as he despised not being able to use both hands to attend to her, he had his own needs as well, letting his grip tighten as stroked his now shirt wrapped erection. 

The hand that stayed between Stacey’s legs held firm, letting her push against it for just a fraction of a second before he allowed her to make progress. It was good that he kept himself in shape as his body leaned over hers, both hands doing all the work to give a mutual satisfaction.

Stacey moaned in satisfaction as Carter allowed for the tiniest amount of progress to be made from her push. It wasn’t much, but by god she would take it. The baby was coming so fast, she assumed he was keeping his palm firm over her crotch to ensure she didn’t tear. But then he grabbed her discarded shirt, bunching up the fabric and burying his dick inside. It seemed his steadfast palm had ulterior motives. 

Under the layers of clothing and her husband's palm Stacey was sure the baby wasn’t even close to crowning yet. The head felt huge and still very much filling her vagina. Somehow she lifted her legs off the seat, bending her knees around either side of Carter’s leg that was in her footwell, and pressing her feet against the dashboard. 

“Oooooohhh… ohhhhhhh… it’s so big Carter— why do you always give me— fuck— huge babies—?” 

“Because I love, mmph, you.” His pace altered depending on the sounds and motions his wife made. He exhaled, ecstasy pouring forth as he fulfilled his needs while pleasing hers. They’d discussed the idea of this, once, in passing. Yet to have it truly coming to fruition was such a turn of events that he was lost in lust for his wife and loving it.

“N-next time…” Carter groaned and increased his speed. “I’m going to give you twins.” 

Stacey couldn’t respond, barely able to moan, her body so tight and stretched and full! Her ass moved right to the edge of the seat, her bent knees up almost to her swollen midriff. A ragged sound of air being pulled into her lungs a split second before she went completely silent. The rouge of her cheeks, puffed out, showed her holding her breath - pushing hard. 

Every fibre of her being was focused down, grinding and pushing against her husband’s large hand that stayed between her legs even after she moved. The pressure, that delicious overwhelming all consuming pressure. Wanting so desperately to push but making no progress was only adding fuel to the fire of her desire. The low straining sound gravelled inside the car as she released the push, gasping for air with a husky moan. 

“Wha— what can you feel now C-Carter—?” She asked with a smirk as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I-I feel… close.” He groaned, unable to hide the trembling in his voice. Holding her crotch as it pushed out made him unable to resist increasing the tempo. The baby’s head was large, his entire palm filled purely from how baby number four pressed against the inside of her lips. Carter released a moan. “They’re right there baby.” He said, planting another kiss, this one directly on her lips and filled with the same passion used to get her pregnant. 

“You’re doing so good, s-so good.” As much as he wished he could hold her cheek as he encouraged her, he was far to occupied with both hands to do so.

“Yes….” Stacey moaned, arching her back so her head pressed into the seat and her crotch sank onto Carter’s hand. “…yes… so good… so fucking full…” 

This was simultaneously the craziest but hottest births they had ever had. Stacey felt like she was on a cliff edge; the baby’s presence was irrefutable right behind her slightly stretched lips, while the feel of his hand between her legs, his cologne, his growling voice as he got closer to release - it made her inner muscles squeeze for different reasons. Her eyes flew open at the realisation she was close to orgasming. 

“B-babe— we’re not— gonna make it out of this line— without a baby in my arms— you know that right?” Stacey panted, barely able to form words through the constant (and unproductive) pushes and the steadily increasing arousal pulsing through her veins. 

“I know.” Carter may have been aroused beyond reason, but he was no stranger to this situation. The baby was coming, and they wouldn’t stop it. The only part of this under their control was whether or not they would enjoy this ordeal. Carter knew he would, as odd as it was. And he was prepared to make sure his wife enjoyed it too. 

“But we won’t have them yet.” A wolf ish grin formed even as he strained to keep his climax delayed. “Not till you are satisfied.” As he spoke, his palm pressed just a little harder. Stacey’s hips were shifting, something he knew well from their bedroom activities. His wife had tells, a quiver of the lower lip, a slight flex of her fingers, a particular cooing sound when the cliff to unimaginable ecstasy was about to be plunged over. All of these he had memorized, and all of them he’d seen in the last few minutes.

“Do you want to push?” He groaned, his body getting closer to hers.

The squeak of Stacey’s voice disclosed just how close she was as Carter’s palm pressed a fraction towards her core. Her whole body tensed and shuddered, so close, so damn close. 

“God, yes!” Stacey gasped. “Wanna push so badly…. N-n-need to push….” 

She was being squeezed from all angles; her inner muscles working on an instinctual level to move the baby out of her body, while Carter’s hand pressed equally upwards against the ancient force. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, stuck on the edge of both climaxing and birthing. But they both knew if the crown got too far, beyond the point of no return, then any pleasure would be lost to delivering the child. 

So her husband kept her where she needed to be. 

“Good girl.” Carter held firm. “You can push again.” His husky voice brushed her skin. His hand remained, and as if to give her encouragement, he pressed just a little harder, the sound his wife made making him shudder. Outside their minivan he could hear people honking, that was an afterthought though as his body continued to sync with his wife’s pleasure. Carter kissed her neck, and breathed. “Push for me.”

Stacey’s hands clawed across Carter’s back, every breath she took was ragged and shaken. The second his lips brushed her neck her body responded, arching her spine and sinking down onto his palm giving an almighty push. Her teeth were bared and nails were sharp, lost to the satisfaction of pushing, of feeling that immense pressure shifting down. 

“Ughh— ohhh god—” she moaned between husky grunts of effort. Pushing felt so good, so right, and with each millimetre of progress the baby’s head pressed perfectly against her partially parted opening. 

She looked at her husband with wide, feral eyes, smirking before burying her face in his neck and inhaling deeply. Grunting again against his sweaty skin, his hand moving rapidly beside her bump, working himself further into a frenzy. 

“I’m— I’m— getting c-c-close—” Stacey gasped, nearly sinking her teeth into his neck. 

Hearing her say that always made him turn feral. Carter let his grip on her crotch falter, their baby finding its opportunity to escape. He knew exactly what he was doing, and by the breathing Stacey had just started, she knew too. The progress made was miniscule, yet its effect on both of them was monumental. Stacey’s body needed to push, even without the contractions to aid he felt his wife tensing involuntarily. Good. He wanted her effort to add to the bliss. 

The head moved, her leggings soaked with fluids both amniotic and sexual bulging more and more. Just as Stacey’s effort reached its maximum, he replaced his hand, giving her a firm barrier to work against. Carter moaned aloud, already leaking from his own tip thanks to how unconventionally attractive his wife was right in that moment. He pressed a little harder, and in the process, reversed some progress.

That barrier, the pressure moving backwards, had Stacey’s eyes rolling. She let out a strained cry, of both pleasure and pain. 

“Nnnghh—fuck Carter—!” 

She could barely see, barely even knew where she was, consumed by the stretch happening under her knickers between her legs. Her body pushed, hungry for more progress, but was met only with restriction. Growling against the firm hand of her husband, Stacey’s nails curled over his shoulders into his skin, grunting as she bore down once more. She simply had to push, it was as vital as breathing right now. She needed to push, she needed to crown, she needed to come… 

There was nothing more to be done. Carter felt his body begin to sieze, his control no longer able to stop what was needed. Stacey’s pushing, her groans and moans finally made him crest that edge. He let go of her crotch mid push, letting her finally release all that pressure in one monumental effort. Carters back arched, finishing into the shirt he’d been using to catch anything that leaked. He gasped into his wife’s neck. And his hand that had been on her up to this point wrapped around her shoulders to pull her closer.

The sound that came out of Stacey’s mouth was unlike any noise she’d made before. The feeling of being able to push freely without restriction combined with the pure pleasure of her husband's hands and scent resulted in a growling cry of painful ecstasy. 

Along with giving an almighty push, Stacey had reached her peak and the orgasm carried the baby’s head the rest of the way until it was stretching her wide wide open. She knew she was fully crowning, the burning of her lower lips was familiar, but still riding the high of her orgasm it was more of a powerful burning tingling sensation. Gasping for breath against Carter’s sweating and shaking skin, Stacey licked her dry lips. 

“It’s— it’s right there— right fucking there—” her voice barely a whisper, cracked with post orgasm exhaustion. 

“They’re close.” He said, a throaty chuckle coming with his subsiding euphoric bliss. He managed to sit back in his seat after planting a kiss on Stacey’s lips. His body continued its release into the shirt, taking a minute to empty all he had. He quickly cleaned himself up, tucking his now softened member back into his shorts only to realize the way ahead was cleared. At least it almost was. Carter glanced over, the bulge in Stacey’s leggings more pronounced than ever.

“Good job baby.” He said, shifting into drive. They had only one customer in front of them now before the window where they paid. “Try to hold off a little longer. Just until I pay.” After what could only be described as the best few minutes of their sex life, Carter shifted easily back into the role of supportive husband and father. His hand felt around her exposed womb, then slid down. “Shit, the baby really is crowning.”

“Mmmhh… I know—I can feel it…. Hooooo… fuck it’s huge…. I— I can’t— ooof—” Stacey grunted, trying to push again, to deliver the head past its widest point, but without a contraction there was no progress to be made. Her body was coming down from its high, the orgasm fading and her muscles softening, and she slumped back exhausted into the cushion of the passenger seat. 

She wanted to speak, to tell her husband how close the baby was to coming out, to explain how she couldn’t push so soon after that orgasm, but the fullness and stretch of her womanhood took away any ability to speak. Stacey could only pant, holding her legs wide apart around the fully crowning head, struggling through the burning intensity waiting for the next contraction.  

The car in front was at the window to pay, its driver hanging out their arm to tap their contactless payment. Then brake lights appeared, the car in front moved on creating a clear space ahead, and Stacey looked towards her husband with half-lidded eyes. She didn’t want the staff to know, or to see, what was happening inside their car. Giving birth to their children was always an intimate affair and they didn’t want to widen that net to include the young staff at the McDonald’s drive-thru. 

“You’re doing great honey, fucking amazing. But I need you to hold back a little for me now. Just while we’re at the next window. If anyone notices you giving birth, someone’s gonna call an ambulance and I wanna be the one to catch this one.” Carter smirked, putting the car into drive and gently stroking the side of Stacey’s cheek. “Can you do that for me?” 

Stacey nodded, her hands splayed under her belly, legs wide apart around the fully crowning child between her thighs. Carter rubbed her belly before moving the van slowly to the first window. 

Carter rolled to the window, pulling cash out of his wallet in the process.

“Big Mac meal, extra pickles on the side, and a sweet tea.” The cashier said, not even looking in their direction. “$17.85.”

Carter wanted to cuss out the obnoxious teen for somehow screwing up the order even more than before, but Stacey’s grip on his arm held him back. Not to mention his all too recent release of pent up pressure kept him far more relaxed. He handed the $20 bill to the worker, who scoffed under her breath. 

“$1.15 is your change.” For the first time, the worker looked at them.

Stacey was beyond overwhelmed; her nerves were on fire, skin stretched thin around the large overdue baby trying to escape her womb. Luckily she was half out of eyesight from the teenager working at the Drive-Thru, though the fact she was wearing just a maternity bra and her gravid belly on show no doubt caused the raised eyebrows of the young girl. 

She felt her belly contract, harshly and forcefully trying to move the baby further out. Carter’s hand had been keeping it at bay but now he was busy, collecting their change. She had to push, there was simply no holding it back. So she did the only thing she could, her hand disappeared between her thighs and cupped the head bulging into her leggings. Tilting forward a fraction, sitting on her hand, she grunted under her breath - not loud enough to be heard outside the car but the sound still evidence of the instinctual effort to give birth. Pushing over and over against her own palm, Stacey’s teeth were bared, hissing slightly, trying not to cause any alarm from anyone who could see through the open window. 

Carter took the change without comment. The car shifted, and they rolled forward a bit.

”I know that sound hon.” He turned to his wife. The way she was leaning, the hand firmly pressing between her legs. “If you need to, it's ok to let yourself make a little progress.” Thanks to her position, he had access to her lower back. His hand found it, pressing hard into the position. “Just don’t push too much. One more window to go through.” Same as before, they couldn’t let the employees know that she was in labor, that beneath the fabric of her leggings a baby was actively trying to come. “How does it feel?” 

“Mmmmmmgh!— if I p-progress any—anymore this head is gonna come shooting out…” Stacey hummed, rocking on her palm as her husband pressed into the very base of her spine. "It's already out so far… unhh… the whole c-crown of their h-head.” 

Sitting forward was going against every natural instinct in her body, actively preventing her body from delivering the baby as it so desperately wanted. And yet that fullness, that stretch, after what she and Carter had just participated in… well, she wasn’t quite ready to give it up yet. If she could help it. 

Her husband had put on the brake as soon as they’d rolled forward in the drive-thru line and mercifully there were no windows in the restaurant either side of their car. Allowing them some privacy. If only for a short while. There were still three cars between them and the collection window, the food it seemed was being prepared agonisingly slowly. 

“Ooooh… Carter….” Stacey gravelled out, legs parting unconsciously wider on the passenger seat. “Baby is coming soon… one push… one push and their head will be outta me… what…. nnnghh… what do I do-?” 

Carter thought for a moment, letting his hand continue its rubbing while the other moved to her womb. The baby certainly was coming, and there was no more delaying. If he was honest with himself, he could go again, like before, but Carter didn’t do those things unless he knew she got to enjoy them as well. Still, it didn’t prevent him from admiring yet again the miracle his wife was performing, the way her legs were spreading. Carter fought to keep his focus even as he thought more about her.

“Breathe.” He said, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek. “The head needs to stay until we have your burger. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

Stacey’s free hand went to Carter’s cheek as he leant over, their cheeks pressed against each other, her nostrils flared as she inhaled the comforting aroma of her husband. “I’ll t-try…. Hooooo…” her words were heavy and laboured, barely able to hold it together through the overwhelming intensity of a fully crowning baby in her underwear. 

Two contractions… Stacey only lasted two contractions during which she had resorted to grunting against both her hand and the passenger seat cushions trying desperately hard to contain the inevitable. But whether she wanted to or not, her body was pushing. She could feel how her inner muscles were clenching around the baby nestled in her birth canal, squeezing downwards in their attempts to expel their fourth child. 

“I— I can’t do it C-Carter—” she growled, shifting back into the depths of the passenger seat and tilting her hips to face the windscreen. As she moved her hands let go of where they’d been clamped against her womanhood, one reaching behind to grab the headrest while the other clung to the doorhandle. “I- I have to push— I can’t take it anymore— baby wants outtttttt—nnnnnghhh!!” Stacey’s sentence ended with the lowing sound of pure primal effort as she gave an almighty push right then and there. It didn’t matter that there was still one car in front of them waiting on their food, it didn’t matter they would soon be approaching the next window. The agonisingly delicious stretch was making her shake head to toe, the head on the very cusp of being born there was only one option. To push. 

Carter turned just in time to see his wife bury her chin into her sternum. In reality, he knew that she never was going to hold the baby in longer than she’d already done. Pride swelled within his chest, his wife, the love of his life, doing something he couldn’t ever dream of managing in her position. He embraced Stacey, and found himself also reaching between her legs. He’d just managed to touch his fingers to the barrier blocking their baby when his wife’s grunting evolved into a sudden gasp. The baby surged forward, her leggings’ elasticity permitting the head to eject fully. With it came more amniotic fluids, soaking Carter's hand.

“Good girl.” He said, his voice full of a pride he’d felt every time Stacey delivered one of their children. Each breath she took now only further shifted her womb, her chest heaved, the beads of sweat more like consistent streams after so much time. “You’re doing good.” Carter kissed her again, keeping his hand on the baby’s head between her forced apart thighs.

When the head burst free Stacey shuddered and released a perfectly beautiful gravelled moan of relief. The head was out. The stretch and burning and fullness gone in the blink of an eye and she slumped into her husband's embrace, panting to catch her breath back. 

“S-sorry… I couldn’t hold it any longer…” she croaked against his neck. Carter’s hand was possessively and protectively between her spread thighs, cradling the head of their child through the sodden jersey fabric of her black leggings. 

Stacey felt utterly spent already and she was only part of the way through giving birth. After a lengthy labour, their sexual escapades in the car, and fighting her body’s instincts to push for the last half hour or so while stuck in this drive-thru, Stacey could barely keep her eyes open. The relief of delivering the wide dome of their overdue baby pumping endorphins through her veins, nothing else mattered. 

Then the shrill beeping of the car behind them snapped the parents from their trance. The space had opened up in front, there was no one left in the line, they were next to collect their food. Finally. But there was a baby half-born in her trousers. Turning to her husband, still breathing heavily, Stacey said “Be quick hun, I don't know how long we’ve got before the rest of this little rascal decides to come out…” 

“Good.” Carter grinned. “We’ve been waiting for long enough to hold this one baby.” The minivan moved, Carter didn’t want to take his focus away from his wife, but he had to. If ever this woman deserved her hamburger, it was after this. His right hand remained touching her, gliding across her exposed flesh only to sink between her legs. Carter wanted to keep it there, to know his baby was safe.

The employee working the window was as young as the last, but this one was a teenage guy, and far more chipper. 

“Hiya! It was a Big Mac meal right?” He asked. The teen proceeded to read off the receipt, making certain it was all correct. “Oh, shoot I forgot to make your drink. Don’t worry it’ll just take a minute.” He said, then walked off towards the drink dispenser.

As the employee disappeared from view to make the drink Stacey began to pant and hum. Her hands stayed in place, one behind her head gripping the headrest, the other was shaking as she squeezed the door handle with ghost-white knuckles. The contractions had returned, her reprieve short-lived. 

“Mmmmmghhh…. Ooooohhhhhh… shoulders…..” was all Stacey could manage as she fought the urge to bear down. Each breath was desperate, each sound was low and ragged. The baby was so fucking close it was almost laughable. Stuck in a drive-thru, her husband cradling the baby’s head that was trapped behind the gusset of her panties. Every muscle in her womb squeezed aggressively and she had no strength left to fight it. Exposing her teeth Stacey hissed a breath and pushed without any semblance of control. Any fucks she had left to give were long gone, the baby wanted out and damn it she wanted to hold her child. 

But as she pushed she felt Carter’s hand remain firm between her thighs. A gentle upwards pressure countering any efforts she made, keeping their baby’s shoulders pressed right up against her swollen sensitive opening. Stacey pushed again, more forcefully, grunting this time with effort and grateful the employee had vacated the vicinity of the open window. 

“Patience sweetie.” Her husband purred, adjusting his hand discreetly but keeping that steady pressure up against her body. “We’re almost there.” 

The desperation took over all thoughts and Stacey gulped a deep breath, pushing once more in the vein hope she could succeed. Carter countered this move with one of his own. Somehow his thumb moved over the roundness bulging her leggings and with perfect precision pressed against her clit. Stacey gasped, jolting as if electrocuted, and the sheer shock of the painfully exquisite contact had stopped her pushing. 

“Good.” He whispered, pressing a little more into that sweet spot. “I knew that would get your attention.” Carters voice dropped into that gravelly tone he often adopted when they became intimate. As gentle a man as he was, when he wanted to be, he could take control of their pleasures. His palm felt the weight as their baby tried again to eject, but he didn’t let it budge. His thumb caressed her, using his thumbnail to flick just a little. He met her eyes, a wry smile on his face. “Be patient…”

“Alright! Sorry about that.” The worker had returned, missing what just transpired between the couple. “So got your drink here…” He handed it over to Carter, who took all the items without removing his grip between his wife’s thighs. All the while, he continued to tease, playing with her body in that way he knew she loved, and by the way he had to adjust his own seating, he was enjoying it too. Carter always was quick to recharge.

“Perfect, thank you.” He told the teen, smiling.

“Of course! Oh, and congratulations to you both as well.” He said, gesturing to Stacey’s belly, still cheerful and oblivious.

“We appreciate that.” As he said the words, just to add that extra little deviousness, he flicked his thumb back and forward to see if Stacey could manage to keep it hidden.

Clamping her mouth shut did nothing to hide the involuntary squeak Stacey made at Carter’s devilish movement. The whirlwind of overwhelming sensations made her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head. The pressure, the stretch, the fullness… and now pleasure. The poor woman was overloaded and barely keeping it together. The flicking of her clit made her inner muscles clench and before she knew it she was pushing once more with reckless abandon. 

Carter had their brown paper bag of food on his lap as he put the car into drive and wound the window up, their mini-van slowly creeping along the narrow path out of the drive-thru lane. All the while his right hand stayed firm between her thighs. 

Stacey whimpered, trying and failing to lift her legs to create more room but her hands were busy gripping the door and headrest to hold her heavy exhausted thighs in the air. “P-please babe… I wanna push…. I need to p-push….” 

The path ahead was clear, they could go, he could drive to the hospital now that they’d gotten her burger. It was just a matter of making a left turn and going. But, he didn’t do that. Carter turned the wheel to the right, keeping that pressure consistent between her legs. The hospital wasn’t happening. This moment, it was theirs. Carter drove, the small shopping centers road leading to another parking lot next to the McDonalds. No one was here, the building standing in the center was in the middle of construction and far from being completed. They were alone, all alone. He ensured that nobody from the road or the restaurant could see. To them, it would seem like a couple looking for a private spot to eat.

“Hmm.” Carter hummed. He sat the bag on the dashboard, turning to face his wife. With a quick movement, the hand cupping her was switched, his thumb rapidly replaced to keep that stimulation constant. “I don’t know if you should push Stacey.” As he spoke, he leaned in close. “I think, you should hold off.”

“Wha—?” Stacey gasped, a croaked noise of tortured pleasure escaping her mouth. 

As Carter’s thumb continued its gentle but purposeful circling, Stacey’s body reacted of its own accord, arching her spine right off the chair. The exquisite arousal came crashing to the surface joining her very desperate need to birth, both the sensations fighting for dominance through her body. The overdue baby was right there, the head between her legs while the body took all the space inside, filling her birth canal. Stacey moaned, low and desperate, shuddering as her body fought two primal urgent desires. 

Her legs were spread as wide as they could go in the passenger seat, pressed against the door and centre console and still it wasn’t enough. Their child was huge. She needed more space, more room, she needed to push, she needed to come… she needed… she needed…

“C-Carter— ohhhhh god—” Stacey gasped, every cell in her body trembling on the precipice of something incredible. 

“Yes dear?” Carter asked, already feeling himself grow aroused. He always was feral for his wife, hence why they were actively delivering baby number four. But here, something about today, the utter attraction he had for her in this state was another level of need. His assault on his wife’s clit slowed, not wanting her to fall too deeply into that bliss before he allowed it. Eyes wandered, looking at her milk filled breasts. The maternity bra wasn’t quite like the more flimsy lace bras she wore on their date nights, but he knew just how to work these clasps. 

He slipped his hand behind her back, and with an expert flick of the wrist, her bra was now undone, and her chest free of its confines. 

Stacey felt her breasts drop once her bra was released, sitting full and heavy on the very top curve of her overdue baby bump. The movement was enough to draw more colostrum from her nipples. “Oh god….” She purred, her back arched and head thrown against the headrest. 

She was out at sea in the raging waves of both pleasure and pain, barely able to see let alone think straight. Her pelvis tilted and circled almost instinctually, lifting up off the seat against her husband’s exquisite hand. The labouring woman was left only in her maternity leggings which were stretched beyond recognition from both an overdue belly and the delivered head of their fourth child. There’d be no keeping these trousers for another pregnancy, despite them being her favourite since their second child. 

Stacey was panting, gasping for air at the constant thrum of pressure between her legs, one hand gripping the door while the other pushed up into the velvety ceiling of the car. “Mmmmghh…. So full… Carter— I— ohhhhhhhh god I wanna ppppppp-push!” She begged, twitching her hips and grunting tiny pushes against her husband’s hand that was keeping the baby’s shoulders from escaping. 

“You are.” Her husband kept a sturdy hold on the head between her thighs. As the contraction started to build, his thumb went back to work on her clit, but now, he was doing something else. Her chest was free, and Carter greedily leaned in, licking at her areolas. Before leaving home, he’d helped her with pumping. But, there was still some milk left in there. The teasing only lasted a moment before he took it in with his mouth, his tongue playing non stop. He moaned as his pants tightened, his intoxication for his laboring wife total and uncontrollable.

“Fuck— oh… yes… ohhh Carter…” Stacey moaned as her husband put as much of her engorged breast to his mouth. His tongue, his lips, and then his teeth on her nipples sent bolts of electricity through her veins right down to her core. Carter expertly moves in just the right way to encourage her pulsing arousal, making it build and build, its song drowning out the pain of the desperate contractions. 

With a shaking hand she rolled the other nipple between her fingers, pinching it slightly to match the stimulation Carter was giving her other breast. The pressure of the baby between her legs was dimming and being replaced with pure lust and erotic need. Each hitch of Stacey’s chest was laboured and ragged, overwhelmed and over stimulated. A husky moan of both pleasure and pain came rattling from the depths of her chest as her breasts leaked into his mouth and all over her hand, at the same time her hips jerked up and her uterine muscles clamped around the baby, attempting to expel the child from her womb. 

He wasn’t ever going to forget this. With teeth bared, he gently nibbled, just to spike that little bit of pleasure. His own was skyrocketing in his pelvis, but in his so much sexual desire he wouldn’t falter in his task of pleasing Stacey. Those moans, god those moans were divine. He suckled, and as he did he let her body make a little progress. Loving just how charged her needs were, Carter held firm as soon as he felt enough progress was made. She wasn’t done yet, he wasn’t going to let her be. Carter unlatched, gulping down the milk, a dribble falling down his chin as he grinned. 

“How’s that feel baby?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual as he continued his dominant control of their child’s birth. What he wouldn’t give for another release of his own. “Does it feel, good?” As he asked, his thumb flicked again, hard, hitting her clit with pinpoint precision.

Stacey could barely keep her eyes open, lashes fluttering as her pupils rolled with overwhelming pleasure. That tiny bit of progress Carter had allowed resulted in the shoulders of their child slipping forward, stretching her sensitive skin so wide. The stinging burning was almost delicious when combined with the stimulation her husband was providing, both the suckling of her breast and sharp assault on her clit making her see stars. 

“Mnngh— Cart— Carter I’m— I’m gonna—uhhhhhh!” Stacey moaned as her body reached breaking point. The orgasm crashed through her entire body, her very essence, with such ferocity she cried out with the clenching muscles of pleasure. Her high moan of ecstasy reverberated around the minivan. 

With a gleeful grin of devilish intensity, Carter pressed his lips to hers, allowing their combined moans to be suppressed. Carter's desire only grew, and he knew just what to do to his wife next. 

With the pleasurable shuddering of her inner muscles, Stacey’s body soon locked in another uncontrollable push. The shoulders staying wedged between her legs, the head straining the elasticated fabric of her leggings, and her sultry moans twisted into feral grunting as her body demanded to be in charge. 

“Let it all out Stacey… let’s have this baby.” His eyes fluttered, lips finding every bit of beading sweat and plucking them off. Her skin glistened in the sunlight through the windshield, her body shaking with each shuddering breath. Her belly, god he would miss that, but if he knew his wife at all, she’d be growing again within a few months, baby five, well on their way. That prospect alone spurred his next action.

Carter, removed his hand.

The response was immediate; the second Carter’s hand slipped away from her bulging leggings Stacey’s feet lifted into the dashboard. The huge rock-solid bump now between her raised thighs, she grabbed the back of one leg while the other gripped onto Carter’s knee. “Nnnnnghhhh!!” The sound that escaped her was animalistic and powerful as Stacey gave her all into this one long, monumental push. 

The black fabric of her leggings meant nothing would be seen, either by Carter and certainly not by Stacey with the bump in the way. But she could feel the baby’s shoulders as they popped out one by one. The relief almost made her orgasm again but her body had other ideas. Gulping down a fresh lung full of air, she bore down hard once more. Every muscle twitching and trembling with the effort, desperate to get their overdue baby earthside and free from the confines of her womb. 

“Uhhhhh… C-Carter it’s coming out— it’s coming out right now—!” She spluttered through pushes, her knees parting and hips sliding down the chair to open her pelvis to its widest potential. “Oh god….” 

Awe, pleasure, wonder, pride, all the emotions on Carters face were plain as day as he watched what his wife was doing. Her body, incredible and goddess-like, shifted as she pushed. For the last time this pregnancy, he admired the way her swollen stomach contorted and shrunk. More than ever before, it changed, as if realizing the baby within was on the final stretch. Her tenting leggings were pressing out at the seam in her crotch, but with that final effort, the baby slid into her right pant leg.

“You did it!” He cheered, planting a kiss on her fueled with passion that even newly weds couldn’t dream of meeting. “Oh God you did amazing…”

Stacey’s pant leg shifted, the baby, the baby was moving. And that was when the couple heard the sweetest melody, a newborn with perfect lungs crying. Carter was gentle, helping her to lift her butt just enough so he could slide the leggings down. All the while he whispered sweet nothings and words of encouragement and awe. 

Instinct completely drove Stacey’s movements. Still catching her breath, still trembling, and yet the need to see and hold her child was absolute. Memories of these seconds would be blurry and forgotten, but when those leggings reached her knees and the new parents saw the perfect little bundle squalling between her thighs - that memory would last forever. 

Stacey immediately brought the babe to her bare chest, shushing and cooing automatically as she rubbed the newborns back. “Hey…. Hey little guy…. It’s okay… mumma’s got you now.” 

She felt complete; the skin to skin contact and the feel of the baby’s weight on her chest, perfectly molding around the curves of her maternal body. Looking down, Stacey was a little taken aback at just how big their newborn son was. “Wow…. He’s a chunky one eh…” Stacey said with a chuckle, still slightly breathy, recovering from delivering their largest child yet. 

Carter didn’t speak, his eyes fixated on the sight before him. A shaking hand reached out, rubbing gently against their son's back, he smiled.

“He really is.” The new father said. “You did good, baby.” Carter said to Stacey as he leaned in to kiss her. “You did really good.” He knew it wasn’t over yet, the placenta still needed to come, but this moment, this magical image, this was everything to him. He reached into the back, digging into the hospital bag for a towel. Placing it across his wife’s chest, it left only their sons head exposed. Carter turned the key, it was time for the hospital. Before he left though, he looked at Stacey and smiled.

Travelling across the country fucking sucked.

Granted, at least it was the slow season. The greyhound wasn't packed. In fact, it was damn near empty. In front of the bus was a businessman, wearing airpods and furiously typing on his laptop, no doubt working on...something. You weren't sure what the vaguely functional wi-fi could offer him. The speeds were tolerable, but definitely not business grade. In the middle of the bus, there was another man, this one who had passed out within five minutes of the bus starting. You were sure medication was involved.

A few rows behind him was a teenager. She was staring out the window, the faintest traces of music coming through her earbuds as she flipped through tiktok and furiously texted...someone. Her eyeliner was smudged and her hands shook a little. You decided not to catch her gaze. You didn't want to be chewed out.

You took your seat as close to the back as you could, minus one row. In the very last row, there was a woman. She was alone, tucked into the seat, and leaning her head against the window. You had noticed one fact about her about an hour ago, when the trip started; she was pregnant.

No, that was understating it. She was heavily pregnant. She looked like the wrong bump on the road would send her into labor.

She wore it well, though. She wore a pair of black flats and a flowing, tea-length sundress that hugged her in all the right places. Her breasts were filling out the bust of the dress, but it wasn't obscene, and her belly bump shifted the hem of the dress. You glimpsed a tattoo of a phoenix on her inner right thigh before she adjusted how she sat.

You had been on the bus for a few hours now. The pretty woman in the back seat never seemed to get comfortable. She shifted, and gasped, and moaned a little bit. She couldn't help but watch out of the corner of your eye. The noises she made were captivating, and she was beautiful. You knew that she was uncomfortable. The road was rocky, and the ride was long. So why was it...turning you on?

You shook the thought off. Three hours into the drive, you all stopped for a rest stop. The pregnant girl struggled her way off the bus, just as everyone else did. You got some candy at the gas station and elected not to play the roulette that was the gas station bathroom.

After fifteen minutes, everyone was boarded again. The pregnant girl was wiping at her thighs, furiously trying to hide how soaked the skirt of her dress was. Had she fallen in? Was the sink at the gas station bathroom really that fucked up?

Maybe she had dropped the bottle of water she was holding on herself. Either way, you kind of felt bad.

"You okay?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Her cheeks were flushed, her big, brown eyes tracking your every move.

"I-I...yes, thank you."

Her breath hitched. You flushed and turned away.

"Okay, sorry, I just...your skirt."

She froze, then bit her lip.

"I dropped my...water..."

She took in a sharp breath. You shifted a little in your seat.

You nodded, then looked away.

You pretended to ignore her for the next hour. Her moans were quiet, tiny whimpers that echoed through the small, scared space. You pretended not to notice how she gasped, or the sounds of her shifting around in her seat. Everyone else had headphones, or, like that one man, were in a drug-induced sleep. The driver, all the way at the front, seemed to be hard of hearing.

It was, theoretically, just the two of you.

She was moaning into her fist, tiny little sounds that were coming in a trackable pattern. She would shift, clutching her belly. You watched her out of the corner of your eye, her hair a little damp from the sweat on her forehead, her eyebrows scrunching together with the pain.

She never looked at you. She never even looked in your direction.

You blushed, shifting in your own seat. Something about watching her squirm and moan was making you feel a certain kind of way. It surprised you, at the very least.

You were enjoying it.

She continued to squirm and hold her stomach. She leaned forward a little, holding onto herself as she grabbed a hoodie out of her backpack. She shoved the sleeve of the hoodie into her mouth, muffling a moan into the fabric.

This one was louder than before. You bit your lip. You couldn't help it. Something about her quiet helplessness was intoxicating. She was trying to hide it.

You knew what was happening.

If she didn't ask for help, you weren't going to help.

Besides, she was so fun to watch. You stared at her out of the corner of your eye for the next two hours. She whimpered, whined, and moaned, muffling the sound into the sleeve of her hoodie, holding herself and trying to cross her legs. You shifted and rubbed your legs together, trying to be subtle about your intense arousal.

The little sounds were growing closer together and got louder. You nearly gasped yourself when she gasped, her shaking legs starting to spread open. You glanced over. She was wearing pink panties with white lace trim. Those panties were soaked.

She bit hard into the hoodie sleeve and bore down. Her face scrunched up, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. She shook and gripped the edge of the seat.

You let out a small moan at the sight and muffled the noise by biting your fist. She didn't notice you. She was too focused on her task. She was pushing.

The bus hit a pothole and bounced. The girl let out a startled noise. Nobody but you seemed to notice. She gasped, shaking desperately as she stared down. There was no way she could see over that belly, anyways.

You could, though.

You shoved your bag over your lap to hide what your hand was doing. You couldn't help it. The sight of her, helpless, pushing, trying to hide what she was doing on the back of this bus; it was enough to fuel your fantasies for the next six months. You bit your lower lip, watching her struggle and squirm.

A small lump was starting to form between her legs. Your eyes grew huge as you slowly turned to stare. She was focused, her thighs shaking as she spread them open a little further. The head was starting to crown. Into her pink panties, under her sundress...on the back of this bus. You groaned a little.

Her head snapped up and you both made eye contact. Both of you were doing something you shouldn't, both of you vulnerable. Her, in the process of giving birth; you, in the process of getting off to the sight of her.

She gasped, and dropped the hoodie sleeve in her distraction. She didn't have long, because a contraction hit, and she let out a squeal. Her eyes got big as she scrambled to get the sleeve again, but she dropped it on the floor.

If everyone else heard, they would all get involved...

You wanted her to yourself.

You got up and moved to her seat. You knelt on the seat and wrapped your arm around her shoulder, turning your arm so your hand clamped over her mouth. She moaned into your hand. The sound was muffled enough that the rest of the passengers didn't notice.

You slid your other hand between her smooth legs. You traced the tattoo on her thigh. She shook and moaned the entire time, subconsciously leaning into your touch.

You felt the head slowly crowning between her legs. She was trembling, bearing down hard as your fingers traced her pussy. You watched in wonder as she fought to give birth, moaning and whining into your hand.

The ring of fire came. You clamped your hand harder over her mouth as she screamed. It was a beautiful sound, one you wanted to record and cum to for the rest of your life. She was fighting, she was pushing harder and harder, at the peak of her agony, and you had never been so in love with a woman in your entire life. You stared, breathless, as she pushed.

The head slid out into her panties, causing them to bulge out. You hooked your finger into the edge of her panties, sliding them out. She was sobbing now, panting in fear as she felt the baby's head hanging from her.

She was so cute, all desperate and needy.

After a few moments of peace, it happened again. She screamed into your hand, pushing as hard as her body would let her. You watched in fascination as a large baby slowly stretched her open, slowly emerged from her with a pain that could not be described. You were so enamored you forgot to hold your hand over her mouth.

She let out a scream that rattled the bus windows.

"It's coming, it's coming! Oh god, I'm giving birth!"

The cat was out of the bag, the baby was almost out, and you use your free hand to get yourself off before the bus could be stopped.

From the first time she had masturbated, Andrea had always been a size queen. Finding bigger and bigger items to fuck herself with until she was a quivering mess on her bed. Her exploration one day had nearly ended in disaster though. Her dad had nearly walked in the day before she moved out, her usual toys packed away, so she'd had to improvise. She was busy pressing an orange to her pussy, grinding on it until she was so close, so close... Then the door had opened and she had to hide the evidence. She couldn't find anywhere in that instant to hide the thing, so she did what she had to, to hide her own pleasure and save her father from the most embarrassing thing he'd ever see. She had quickly shoved the orange completely inside and shouted that she was changing. Her quick thinking had saved both her and her father's dignity, but had led her to a more immediate problem; namely, the orange stuck inside her vagina. It had taken a while, two hours of straining and digging before she figured out how to push the fruit out of her. And that day... it had changed her, the slow burn, the stretch, the fullness...

Andrea shook her head. She could get wet just thinking about those feelings. And with what was coming... oh, she would be too. Her water hadn't yet broken, but the contractions were starting to get to a level of consistency that would send most women to the hospital. Andrea, however, had no intention of doing so. She had every intention of enjoying this however, and that meant no prying eyes, not the eyes of doctors, midwives, doulas, not even her ex. Her preparations finally complete, she closes and locks the door and turns on the cameras. She reaches to her hips, and grabs the waistband of her jeans. Instead of starting to pull them down, she waits for the next contraction and pulls them up, the pressure of the tight material against her crotch feeling glorious against the contraction... And she wasn't even pushing yet. She knew what she was doing. She had gone over ever single available resource for birth. She knew that there were signs that she could use to tell if she was dilated. Her belly was too big to get proper access to her cervix to check it. She'd wait until it felt like her body was pushing on it's own, or if she took off her pants, she'd look for the vertical purple line above her ass to see if she was ready. Not ready to push, obviously, but ready to step things up when it came to holding back. She'd never given birth before, never seen one in person, but nearly every video she watched when alone, everything she'd read in her spare time, the only thoughts that raced through her head when touching her most delicate places, all of it had led her to this.

"Oh....GOD!" Andrea cries out as she squirms on her perch. An hour into pushing, and she'd found herself straddling the back of the loveseat, one of her long legs supporting her weight on the floor, the other folded and balancing her on the actual seat, and her crotch, feeling full and overly warm, pressed on the padded back of the piece of furniture. She rocked her weight back and forth, suppressing her urge to wriggle her hips back and forth too at how delicious the motion and pressure felt. Badly suppressing. When she finally gave into it, the quick, vibrating motion was so strong it nearly knocked her over. Andrea gasped in fear and quickly stabilized herself, stilling her hips and simply focused on pulling her hips down even more firmly on the back of the loveseat. "OhhhhhHHHH," She moaned as the pressure spiked with the end of her movement.

Andrea looked down on the floor at he small pile of toys she'd gotten ready for today, and considered one. A chastity belt. The tight leather and steel device had been a great friend in the past, denying her every urge and attempt. Real friends told friends 'no' when needed. Andrea took the brief moment between contractions to climb off of the loveseat and pick up the device. It would fit, despite her belly, she had worn it just earlier in the week. For days. She'd denied herself any access to the part of her body that had thrummed and screamed for her attention, for her touch, for any touch really. But Andrea had long known the value of patience, and stopped herself from cumming for three whole days. It was all she had been capable of, all her body was capable of.

It had only taken a few things yesterday, a stranger accidentally brushing up against her, a woman in a store asking to touch her belly, the look she had gotten from a decently attractive man who clearly looked like he'd fall on his knees to worship her body in a second... the same man running up and offering to help her when she'd dropped some of her shopping by her car from how flustered she was? She nearly came right then and there. By the time she'd gotten back to her home, the inside of the belt felt so wet, she almost could have slipped right out of it. As soon as the door was closed and locked, she'd gone for the key as quickly as her pregnant body would allow and nearly ripped the belt off, and went to town on herself. Fingers, toys, the padded corner of a chair, it didn't matter. All that mattered was her now ravenous desire for satisfaction, and achieving it in any....

way...

necessaryyyyy.....

When she did come, the wave of hormones mad her moan, made her see stars... she lunged and writhed on her bed, shuddering for a moment before strength returned to her fingers to finish her again. As it had with every orgasm she'd had this pregnancy, her uterus had begin clamping down hard at the stimulation, possessing her and making her feel like her body wasn't the source of the pleasure, but merely a conduit for it, an alien feeling that simply took her breath away and blanked her mind to anything but sheer ecstasy for a few minutes. It wasn't until after her thoughts managed to spin themselves back together that she realized that her post orgasm contractions were still going, still just as pleasurable. The contractions alone weren't enough to get across the finish line alone, but she was more than happy to assist them to get to that peak again.

When she'd come that time, there was so much liquid that she'd thought her water had broken. Between that and the contractions that were becoming more and more persistent, Andrea became convinced that she was in labor. The rest of that day and night were spent making sure things were in order, and making her excuses, getting out of plans, calling off of work, things of that nature. Her sleep that night had been sporadic and short, but a few hours worth of sleep had filled her with enough energy for the events of the day. Or so she hoped.

Looking at the chastity belt, Andrea lost track of time and stagged, desperately crossing her legs, dropping the belt and putting both hands under her belly. "WHOOOPH! NNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!" Andrea groaned as she wound her body tighter and tighter, trying to narrow herself, to close any openings. The contraction drilled into her with a growing urgency, one that was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. When it was done, and the tight contortion she had worked herself into slowly unlocked, Andrea knew that for right now, the risk of the baby coming out despite her efforts was more exciting than merely blocking it. The belt would stay off. For now...

A few contractions later, Andrea could no longer deny that she was pushing. She'd already caught herself holding her breath and tensing up, not quite bearing down, but also not quite not bearing down. The pressure was getting lower. And lower. And LOWER. This latest one, she shuddered when she released the push, and noticed what she had been doing. "Oh shit, no, No I don't want to..." She had been slowly raising herself up, making room for the head. Andrea reached down and tried to feel inside, the bulk of her shifting belly making the maneuver difficult from her perch. She could feel it. She wasn't crowning, but she knew that it would be visible to another if someone were to look. "I... I don't want it to stop," She whined as she felt the head. Her denial had been all too short, the baby was coming. Frustrated and exhausted, she slumped, driving down onto the back of the loveseat. The motion sent a jolt through her and she shivered, the shiver become and full on thrash of pleasure as... oh. OH!

The way she had driving her hips down had pushed the head back! Andrea made a noise she couldn't quite identify as she felt progress being undone. The shivers she felt leading their way into another contraction took away her ability to think clearly as the pressure rebounded the other way. The conflicting tides within her sent her over the edge, her orgasm sending another contraction. Instinctively, Andrea raised her hips to make room. The head began inching down at the invitation, only for the same progress to be yet again undone as she lowered her hips again. Andrea was caught in a mad whirlpool of progress and retreat as she would move the head down, only to send it back, the act of sending it back prompting another wave of orgasm contractions which sent the head back down. She didn't know how long she was stuck like that, but by the time she was able to break free, Andrea had become a sweaty, shaking mess.

"What... What the hell? Oh my god that was... Oh god..." She smiled, rubbing her belly as she rocked out the latest orgasm. She looked down, on one hand, grateful she'd had the forethought to place a towel on the loveseat, on the other hand, knowing full well that she'd squirted so much that it had been a pointless exercise. At first it was pleasant, but now the towel was cold and wet, and Andrea didn't want to stay on it anymore. She straightened her leg to get off of the back of the loveseat, but stopped, electricity lighting her up from her clitoris. The sensation of pleasure was so instant, so immediate so overwhelming... so painful. Andrea screamed, shaking as she lowered herself back down on the wet towel, her hips' involuntary twitching sending shocks through her system as she tried to still them. She took deep breaths, trying to get her unruly body under control, an attempt that was stymied by the arrival of another contraction.

By the time she had managed to calm her body down a bit, she'd reasoned out what had happened. So many orgasms, one right after another? She was now a little too sensitive. But to what? What had set her off like that? It wasn't until the next contraction hit that she understood. The pressure. The descent. The sheer act of birth was setting her off like this. She tried once again to remove herself from the loveseat, but would simply collapse back, shuddering at both the rise and fall. "Oh...ffffFFuck!" Andrea whined at the sudden change of feeling at things, "It's... Oh god it's too much!" Another contraction had her writhing as she tried to regain some amount of control over the birth, pressure, pleasure and pain entangling themselves to tightly that she could no longer tell the difference between them. When the contraction eased a bit, she took a deep shuddering breath, and tried to move off of the loveseat again, but only barely managhed to ease her weight a bit before the sensation became too much.

"Unnnngh... Need to... get offffff." Andrea huffed and hissed, and a small part of her mind chuckled at the cruel irony of that statement. The rest of her mind was suddenly preoccupied with a way of getting off of the seat. With shaking hands, Andrea grabbed the back cushion that wasn't pinned in place by her trembling leg and tossed it on the ground next to her. With a deep breath, and no small amount of effort, she simply dropped, letting go of the loveseat completely. The collection of sensations of suddenly leaving the loveseat, the brief weightlessness of falling, the impact... it all crashed in on Andrea as she crashed to the floor, and she screamed her way through yet another, while not entirely unwelcome, but still far too intense orgasm. She curled on her side around her belly, waiting out the rhythmic cramping of the orgasm, and the powerful contraction that followed, and relaxed, panting heavily.

Without the back of the loveseat for her to grind her pussy against, that last contraction had actually led to some progress. Andrea could feel the head staying lower in her birth canal than it had since she started her counter pressure. It was also far more than she thought it would be. More intense, higher pressure... a bigger head. The size of it took her breath away. "Oh...oh on... oh gooooooooood!" Andrea began to moan as she tried to push, tried to get through the contraction, but it was still to much, she was still overstimulated, too far stretched, too full. She screamed, in pain or pleasure, she couldn't tell anymore. She wiggled her hips, rolling onto her hands and knees and began rocking, trying to alleviate the sensations. Pushing was too much, so she tried letting the contractions work unaided. It helped a little bit, the head moving down so slowly that she was able to get ahold of her breathing, her throbbing body, her wild emotions.

Feeling more in control, Andrea pushed, and felt her body light up once again as the head began to stretch her, finally bringing her to the ring of fire. Her breath came faster as she realized this, and knew, deep down that if she stretched one more centimeter, one more millimeter, that it would be too much again. Sobbing, she acted. She reached out and grabbed the cushion, wadding it and rolling it up until she had a log of fabric and padding and straddled it. "I'm sorry," She panted, and lowered herself onto it. Her eyes rolled as the head was gently, but firmly shoved back inside. The feeling of the head dragging against the inside of her vagina made her uterus and vaginal walls clamp down in protest. She roared, shifting her hips and lowering herself with more force until the head had fully retreated.

"Ah....ah....ah...." Andrea panted as the contraction eased up, the head nestled deeply in her again. "That... that was too much," She whispered to herself, and moaned as the pressure spiked again, and she squirmed at the sensation. It was coming out now. Sobbing at what she couldn't let be the end, Andrea raised herself up on shaking legs and, with a cry of desperation, drove her crotch back down onto the cushion. "WHOOOOAAANNNNNNNNNGGGGGGHHH" she moaned as she felt the head emerge and retreat with the motion. She did this for three contractions, three contractions of rising and falling, letting the head progress and forcing it back. The contraction that followed her orgasm was so intense it trapped her, unable to move her legs, unable to move to let the pressure that was building through, but that wouldn't stop her body anymore, she pushed and pushed and pushed...

With a gasp, the pressure vanished. Panting, she reached down, to feel for the head, reason taking over as she knew that she could no longer play her... game... except there was no head. She couldn't feel anything except... "What the...what was that?" Andrea asked herself as she struggled to get off of the cushion, the cushion that was now thoroughly soaked. Probing herself a bit deeper, Andrea did manage to feel something, but she couldn't tell what it was. It was a sort of membrane, a slippery, rubbery membrane. It dawned on her what she had been forcing back into herself over and over, and began to laugh, each heave of her lungs sending spikes of pressure through her abdomen. She knew that things were about to get more intense, and more enjoyable, because all of her effort, all of her straining, the desperate fight to keep everything inside herself... and all that had happened was the amniotic sack had bulged and stretched her and finally burst.