"Well," Max thought aloud, "Guess I'll have to get up either way..."

Getting out of bed while overdue with triplets would normally be almost impossible for most people, but the werewolf hormones now flowing through Max's body did come with some perks. Mainly, he found himself becoming much, much stronger than before his pregnancy, especially during a full moon. Even then, getting out of bed proved itself quite a chore. First, Max had to swing his legs over the edge of his bed- Easier said than done. He placed one hand under the side of his belly, and with some effort, lifted it so that it stuck directly into the air, nearly knocking the wind out of him and sparking a chorus of protesting kicks and punches from the litter. After taking a minute or two to compose himself and the pups, he finally sat himself up, and planted one swollen foot on the carpeted floor of the bedroom. Lifting up his belly again, this time with both hands, he rotated his entire torso, then his waist, finally placing both feet on the ground. He braced one hand against the firm mattress (if it had been any softer he wouldn't have been able to get out of bed months ago,) and kept the other one on his tender underbelly. Now came the fun part: Actually getting *up.* Even with Jerome's help this has always been a hassle. He switched his hands around, and the one not cradling his womb instead grasped the headboard with white knuckles.

"Okay, on 3..." he muttered, just as much to the pups as to himself. He then shifted all of his considerable weight into his feet and pulled himself up with the headboard, his other hand never once leaving the tight bottom of his engorged stomach. It took him another minute or two to catch his breath, the children barely relenting in their protests. Finally, he cautiously took a waddling step, his other hand moving to his aching back. One step, then another, then another, until finally he was sure of his balance. He decided to walk over to the mirror in the bedroom, stopping to take stock of his ever-growing body.

He'd still never gotten used to some of the changes- This pregnancy had done incredible things to his body. First, he looked at his head. His hair had become darker, richer, thicker than it had ever been before- He had never worried about hair loss when he was still on T, but he figured he really wouldn't need to now. His face, already soft and roundish, had become plumper and fuller, but his beard- his pride and joy- had only grown more since the start of his pregnancy. Respectable but thin beforehand, it had become as lush and luscious as his hair. He looked downward in the mirror, taking note of his chest. Despite top surgery, it had still become puffy, with swollen nipples that occasionally lactated, much to Max's dismay. Jerome loved to play with them, though, which certainly hurt a little less. His top surgery scars had warped around the great orb of his belly.

Max had a strange sort of pride in his belly. From the front alone it was almost two feet in diameter, and almost 4 feet long at the side when he measured yesterday, ignoring the excited foot of the lowest child poking out from beneath his swollen, hypersensitive belly button. It was covered in intense, scarlet stretch marks, running from the top of his belly to the bottom of his thighs like cracks in broken glass- Touching them turned him on immensely, which Jerome loved to exploit. The babies were always at least a little active, even on the new moon when their instincts were weakest, but on full moons like this one, they were extremely excitable, thrashing and fighting with even the lightest rub, or even the slight jostling that comes from merely taking a step.

His hips, too, had rounded out a good deal- He'd always had wide hips,but now the tops of them poked out from his husband's oversized boxers, which turned him on immensely. His body hair had thickened out as well, mostly from the werewolf hormones. His thighs and his ass had become almost impossibly plump, and his underwear strained at his waist. The only real downsides of this pregnancy, in Max's mind, are his swollen feet and ankles (A problem which Jerome is always willing to help with), and the growth spurts his children will experience on full moons like this one. He waddled into the master bathroom, using the toilet (not nearly as much of a hassle as getting out of bed, thanks to handles Jerome had installed,) and needing to bend over to essentially a 90-degree angle to wash his hands, his belly being so big that he can't reach the sink otherwise.

“I’ll see you in the morning, I promise.” He planted one last kiss on the belly and then turned to Marlene. “If anything happens, you know what to do.’

“Absolutely.”

With that, Jerome said his farewells for the night and went out the door, driving away to his aunt’s mansion.

“How are you holding up?” Marlene asked, getting on her knees and stroking the stressed father’s active belly with both hands.

“They’re already starting to stir…” Max said, a quiver in his voice.

“I’m with you all the way on this,” Said Marlene as she looked out the door. She looked out the window yet again. It was a rich orange now, the black of night was about to set in.

“Get ready…”

Max began to groan, his belly becoming deathly still. “Ow…”

Marlene continued rubbing his belly, and feeling the skin of it slowly start to stretch. 

“It’ll be alright, Max… Nothing we haven’t gone through before…”

Max cringed again as his belly swelled, slightly but noticeably.

“Here we go…”

The evening turned to night quickly, and with little ceremony. As the moon began to glow Max began to scream, his belly swelling rapidly under its light. He clung to Marlene, his stretch marks practically doubling in size and becoming extremely dark, his belly now becoming almost as big as he was, as the now-transformed pups began to thrash with a new sort of violent energy. Marlene desperately tried to calm both Max and his brood down, stroking deeply while muttering sweet nothings. As she did so, though, she felt his belly tense up in a way it hadn’t on previous visits.

“Shit…” said both the witch and the laboring man, if with very different tones. For the former, it was a sound of realization– This was not, in fact, going to be a normal night for either of them. For the latter, it was a growl– A scream of pain as he bent in on himself, his entire body blazing with pain as it bore down on his overtaxed womb. The litter only increased their assault, fighting against the cramp and only bringing their father more agony. Marlene found herself at a loss. She foolishly hadn’t prepared for full-on labor, expecting that to start after the sun rose again. As the contraction subsided, Marlene rubbed the back of Max’s neck, moving in close to him and stroking his sweaty, hot, writhing belly with her other hand. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find this all very hot, but she could worry about all of that later.

“God, I wish Jerome was here…” Max sobbed.

“I know, honey, I know…” Marlene said as she embraced him. “Don’t panic… When the next contraction rolls around, I want you to take deep breaths. I’ll go get you a nice warm rag, OK?”

Max nodded, his breath ragged as tears started streaming down his face. As Marlene left for the kitchen, another contraction caught him off guard, but the breathing exercises helped a little bit. Months of classes and birth coaching, but none of it could of prepared him for the actual experience. The labor pains so far had been short, yet strong. He feared how the rest of this long night was going to go, and barely registered Marlene coming back. She placed a small rag upon his forehead, and a much larger one upon his belly. The warmth felt good on his raging stretch marks, even as the brood protested. 

“So sore…” he groaned, stroking the side of his belly. It was tight against his hand, even without the contractions. He asked Marlene what the time was.

“It’s 7:30. Your contractions aren’t too far apart… Have you been laboring all day?”

“No, I…unf! Ow!... I…” Max desperately tried to answer the question as another cramp struck him, causing his mind to blank from pain. Marlene came to his side, assisting him through it as best she could before it subsided again.

“That one was five minutes…” she remarked. “They’re getting longer. But with how strained you are, I don’t think it’ll hurt much more than this!” she said, desperately trying to find a silver lining. “Can you scooch a little? I should probably check your dilation.”

“M-hm” Max said, “If you’ll help me…”

Marlene obliged, lifting up his considerable belly with all the strength she could muster while he dragged himself forward. She could feel another contraction begin, and see the muscles of his belly tighten beneath his skin. She moved back as Max’s bent legs took the brunt of his belly, pulled his pants down, and looked between his legs. She looked over to him with a somewhat pained look on her face. 

“I’m sorry, Papa,” she said, tenderly massaging the sides of his aching belly, “We’ve still got a good ways to go I’m afraid…”

“You know,” Max mutterd, “I was expecting this to be a lot worse… They don’t really feel like they’ve been getting worse…” He arched his back and clenched his teeth as another contraction hit, riding it out through shaky breaths. “I want to get up…” he moaned after it passed.

“Are… are you sure?”

“My legs are falling asleep…”

“...okay, I’ll help you up…”

Marlene stopped for a moment, sizing up the situation. She stuck out her hands, which Max took, and hefted him into a sort of squatting position. If he opened his legs a little, his belly would touch the ground. Max dug his nails into Marlene’s arms as another contraction hit, and she struggled to stop him from falling back over. After that, too, passed, she went behind him and hoisted him to his feet, making sure Max could keep his balance. His belly was extremely low, and his entire body was covered in sweat. Marlene noticed that his body hair seemed to have become thicker, too.

“These kids feel like they’re gonna fall out of me…” he moaned, stroking his active belly. “I’m so hungry, too… Lena, could you give me some of those cookies?” he asked, looking towards the box still on the table. He stumbled towards her, his body not used to his new weight distribution, and the crushing weight on his pelvis. It was clear to Marlene that now that he was up, there was very little that was going to get him back down. He wolfed down the entire bag of cookies, which only seemed to rile up the babies more, then made his way to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water, being carefully monitored by Marlene the entire time. He stopped for a moment, bracing himself against the dining table as another contraction hit. She could see his belly lift itself up, shrinking slightly as the muscles compressed. Max reacted to this less with a groan of pain and more with a growl of frustration- even as they became slightly worse, Marlene could tell that he was getting more prepared for them. This routine would go on  for a few more hours. At a few points, he even tried to lay down on the couch and go to sleep, much to Marlene’s dismay, but the contractions were too bad for him to get any rest, and he would get back up again. 

Marlene was in the bathroom around midnight, washing her hands when she heard Max scream and then a loud thud. She rushed out to the living room to find Max curled up on the living room carpet, his belly sticking straight up the air as his entire body seemed to brace itself. He was pale as a sheet, and Marlene did her best to comfort him. She checked the clock- It was midnight exactly, and the moon was at its most powerful. She chided herself for not realizing that sooner, but also hoped that this would be the worst of it. 

“What happened” she asked, pulling a small jar from her pocket.

“I… I…I was coming back here to sit down, and… ahg!” Max bore down again as another contraction hit. Marlene could hear his breathing go shallow with this one, and he fell unconscious.

“Max! MAX!” she screamed. His belly was still active, but his pulse was faint. She unscrewed the lid of the jar and held it under Max’s nose, causing his eyes to flutter back open. He met Marlene’s gaze, the glow of her opal eyes emphasizing the sparkling tears trailing down her face.

“I need you to stay with me…” she said, her voice hollow. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, but her voice was still shaky. “This is a topical anaesthetic I made, I’m going to apply it to you now. It’s gonna be a little cold, okay?”

“...ok…” Max wheezed as he struggled to maintain lucidity. He was in so much pain… Even when he wasn’t having a contraction, everything was so sore. Marlene’s hands provided such relief, the cold paste numbing his raging stretch marks and overworked muscles. Marlene took pride in her bedside manner, but it would be dishonest to say that she didn’t also enjoy having complete and unfettered access to a handsome young man’s pregnant belly. She made sure to savor the experience, rubbing her herbal concoction into every nook and cranny of it, especially when another contraction tightened it. 

“Is it working?” she asked Max, looking over to see that he was in fact still awake, and even that some color had returned to his face. 

“I… erg… I think…” he muttered.

Marlene’s mood brightened a bit, but she knew she shouldn’t breathe her sighs of relief just yet. She checked between his legs again- He was pretty far along, but just where she expected him to be. In between his rapidly increasing contractions, Max and Marlene slowly made their way back to the nest of pillows. Marlene tried to stay ahead of Max’s labor with every trick she had, exhausting her arsenal of creams, tonics, tinctures and techniques- It was enough, at least, to keep Max conscious and stable through the long, sleepless night. As it dragged on, Max’s contractions got that much closer, that much worse, and time seemed to melt away in the stress of everything. It was about 5 in the morning when Marlene felt Max purposefully bear down on himself. 

“Max?” Marlene asked, peaking over to him.

“I gotta… I gotta push, it’s so low…” Max replied, deliriously  rambling to himself.

“Max, they haven’t shifted back yet, and your water hasn’t broken, you know you can’t…” She tried to comfort him as she looked out the window, seeing a glance of orange on the horizon. “Just a little longer, I promise…”

“I…I-I’ve gotta…” Max cried, struggling as another especially harsh contraction brought another urge. He pulled Marlene towards him and clung close as it hit, whimpering to him as Marlene comforted him. His belly basically rested on her lap, and she felt another contradiction come on- this one accompanied by a telltale wetness as the sun peeked through the window. As she recoiled, she saw his belly deflate, returning to its normal size as the children returned to their human forms. Max breathed a sigh of relief as the contraction ended, and much of his pain subsided– right before another one started, causing him to scream as the first child made its way unobstructed to his birth canal. 

“Max, I know you want to push, but we’re gonna have to keep these kids in you for just a few more minutes. Do you think you can do that?”

Max responded only with grunts as his instincts put him on autopilot. He pushed again, much to Marlene’s chagrin. “Please get here soon…” she mentally asked Jerome. She checked the clock again: If she knew Jerome, she knew he would be hurrying- He’d be here in 10 minutes or so. Max’s breathing was shallow, and rushed, but it looked as though the contraction had passed. 

“I need you to NOT push next time, please!”

“S…Sorry…” Max groaned.

“Jerome should be here soon, just hold out a little more.”

“O–ergh-OK!” Max squeaked out as the next wave of pain hit him.

The next few minutes felt longer than the entire night to Marlene, but the tension broke when the front door opened and Jerome came back, looking only slightly worse for wear.

“You’re just in time,” Marlene said, “His water broke, we need to get him in the car ASAP.”

Max hauled his considerable heft into the living room, bracing himself as he sat down on their well-worn recliner and hastily lifting the footrest so as to support his oversized brood. He threw a blanket over himself- It was designed to cover an entire sofa, but barely covered his body- and haphazardly rubbed his belly as the litter began to stir again.

“Ugh, Can’t these three just come out of me already?!” he groaned hyperbolically.

“You remember what the Clanmother said…” replied Jerome, placing almost half a loaf of french toast on his husband’s shifting stomach. The stack was almost buckling under the amount of powdered sugar on it, and a few strawberry slices were arranged artistically atop.

“How could I forget?” muttered Max as he dug into his breakfast. 

He could still remember hearing the news, clear as day. It was some six months ago, and he was just starting to show. Jerome said he needed to break the news to his aunt Deborah- the current Clanmother of Jerome’s particular pack of werewolves. It took some convincing, but Max reluctantly agreed, despite trying hard to keep his pregnancy a secret while he still could. He was startled by how the seatbelt of their car warped around his belly– which, at only 4 months, already took up half his lap. He stroked it lightly as his tiny children reacted to the new sensation, kicking fiercely yet lightly at the confines of his womb. Movement was a relatively new sensation for him as well- it was almost scary, in a way. It made his impending fatherhood feel that much more real. 

The ride to Deborah’s house was long- She lived in a large, old, beautiful house on the border of the clan’s ancestral forest, all the way on the other side of town.  Max’s heart sank with every passing moment. At a red light, Jerome ran his hand across his husband’s belly and gave him a warm look.

“Everything all right, honey?” Jerome asked, his look turning slightly concerned as he saw his husband’s pallor.

“...What if she doesn’t take it well?” replied Max, shakily.

“Take what well?”

“You know… Learning of my… uh, about my…”

“Learning that you’re trans?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Heh. You’re not giving her enough credit, Max. Hell, I came out to her before I came out to my parents!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, same with Cousin Alex, and my sister, and Uncle Leon- You’re not even the first pregnant man in our family, Max!”

“I’m not?!”

“Yeah, Uncle Lou was 8 months along at our wedding, don’t you remember?”

“Oh. I didn’t even register it…” Said Max, reconsidering some things as he looked down at his belly.

“Deborah hasn’t seen you very much, but she loves everyone in the pack unconditionally…” Jerome turned into a circular brick driveway and parked the car. “All right. We’re here.”

Max was astounded by the size of the place. “Houndsback Manor,” it was called. An authentic Victorian mansion, painted a soothing shade of juniper blue. Jerome knocked on the elegant, clay-colored door.

“Aunt Debby, it’s Jerry!”

After a brief pause, hurried footsteps could be heard through the door, which opened to an old woman. She was tall, and slightly imposing in that sort of way that only werewolves can be. Max could see where his husband got it from. Despite being well into her 70s she looked a fair bit younger, and the wide smile on her face only added to that youthful air.

“Jerry!” she exclaimed, enveloping her nephew in a giant hug, “And Max!” she said, catching him by surprise as she gave him a hug, too. He narrowly avoided her feeling his bump, but nevertheless…

“Jerome…” Deborah said, a tone of mock anger in her voice, “You didn’t tell me I was going to be a great aunt again!”

Both husbands went pale as sheets. 

“W…We were coming here to tell you in person…” Jerome muttered shyly.

“H…How could you tell?!” Asked a shocked Max.

“I’d say I could smell it on you, which is true, but it’s more the fact that you’re wearing that oversized sweater in the middle of June.” Answered Debby, somewhat smugly.

“Oh…” Said Max.

“Oh my god, Where are my manners?! Come in, have a seat, I have some lemonade in the fridge.”

The Manor was luxurious on the inside, with luscious carpeting and magnificent woodwork everywhere. The drawing room (calling it a living room just didn’t seem right,) was full of fine antique couches. Max and Jerome sat down in there while the mistress of the house brought them out a pitcher and some cups.

“Let me guess,” she said, getting much more serious in her tone, “You want me to figure out when the baby’s due?”

“Babies” Jerome corrected her.

“...Triplets,” Max clarified, taking off his sweatshirt and lifting up his ill-fitting tee to show his considerable belly, roughly the size of 5 months for a normal pregnancy.

Debby was shockingly unsurprised.

“We tend to have big litters- Be glad you’re only having 3, pup, Louis had 5 his first time around.”

Max’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of that.

“So, how far along are you? We don’t get triplets very much in this family.”

“Doctor says 4 months…” Max said, uncertainly.

“Sounds about right…” Debby said, scooching towards the expectant father. “May I?” She asked, lifting up her hand. 

“Huh? Oh, sure…” Max replied, “They love the attention.”

To his surprise, Debby instead pulled out a brush and a small jar from her pocket, and untucked a moonstone necklace from her shirt. She opened the top of the jar, revealing it to be full of some sort of red, thick liquid. She put the brush in the liquid, and began painting an elaborate design on Max’s belly. A shiver went up his spine when the fine hairs made contact with his sensitive skin, and the babies didn’t take too kindly to it either.

“Feisty little dears…” Debby remarked with a wry smile, not taking her eyes off her work.

“Yeah…” Max said, “They kept me up the other night.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes more, before Debby cleared her throat and dispelled the quiet. 

“We need complete darkness for the ritual work. Jerry, could you close the curtains, please?” Debby asked. Jerome got up, and the room was quickly filled with darkness.  After that, Debby took off the necklace and held the moonstone to Max’s belly, not unlike a doppler, the cold crystal giving him a slight jolt. She rubbed it all around his stomach, chanting in a strange, ancient tongue- And suddenly, the belly paint and the moonstone began to glow, as did Debby’s eyes, all blazing pure white. When she opened her mouth, the myriad voices of thousands of ancestors left it.

“HEED MY WORDS WELL, CARRIER OF NEW BLOOD,” “she” said, “YOUR WHELPS WILL GROW LARGE AND PROSPEROUSLY WITHIN YOU… AND THEIR DAY SHALL COME UPON THE FALL OF THEIR 10TH FULL MOON!” With that brief prophecy, Debby threw her head back, and the glow stopped. Max’s belly was bare yet again, and Debby blinked back into reality. 

“Eugh. What’d I say?” she asked. Jerome turned off his phone- Max hadn’t been paying attention, but he’d videoed the entire ritual, mostly focusing on his husband’s belly. 

“You said Max is gonna be in it for the long haul, it sounds like.” Jerome replied, solemnly.

“The full 10 months, huh…” Max muttered, absentmindedly rubbing his active stomach. 

He returned to the present day, stroking his now much bigger belly in much the same way, staring out over his now-empty plate.

“Babe. Babe?” Jerome asked, trying to get his husband’s attention, “You OK?”

Max turned his head, his expression was one of worry.

“Honey, you know what tonight is, don’t you?

As Jerome was pulling out his phone to call Marlene, the husbands heard the doorbell go off. Jerome put his phone in his wallet and rolled his eyes as he went to get it.

“I thought we talked about this…” he said flatly.

“What can I say? A witch always knows when she’s wanted,” replied a flowery, faintly-accented, and distinctly transfeminine voice from outside.

“C’mon in, Lene!” yelled Max from the other room.

The clack of antique boots came up the stairs as a woman came through the door. She was slightly taller than Jerome, and rather willowy in her build. She hung an ornate broom and a wide-brimmed conical hat on the coat rack, and then gave Jerome a deep, one-armed hug. 

“I brought gifts back with me!” said Marlene, lifting up the wicker basket in her other hand while she kicked off her shoes. She was clad in a bomber jacket over a flowy jumpsuit, her luscious black hair tied in a loose ponytail. Her vintage sunglasses glimmered in the living room lights as she placed the basket on the coffee table.

“Where’d you come back from?” asked Jerome.

“Went home to Dresden to visit Mama– who sends her regards, by the way– She sent me home with some sweets for you!” Jerome sat down on the couch, and opened up the basket. Inside were a number of paper pouches, tied off neatly with ribbon.

“There’s cookies, muffins, scones, and meringues,” Marlene continued, “and as long as you retie the ribbon, Mama’s enchantment will keep them permanently fresh and ready for consumption!”

“Well thank you, Marlene,” Jerome said, digging in to a pouch of macarons, “These are really good!”

Max plaintively reached for the basket, but his belly was simply too big to bend enough. “Marlene, could you pass me a bag?”

“Mein Gott, I haven’t even asked how you’re doing, Max, of course!” She plucked a bag of cookies from the basket and placed a hand on his tummy. “They just get bigger every time I see you.” she remarked as she ran her gloved hand across it thoughtfully.

“Heh. Tonight’s the biggest I’ll ever get.” Max replied.

“Oh yeah… Tonights the night, isn’t it?”

“Yee-ep…” Max said, putting down the footrest on the recliner. “‘Scuse me a moment, I gotta use the bathroom.” He took his belly in one hand, and Marlene’s in the other, and hauled himself off the chair, waddling as quick as he could towards the bathroom on the first floor. Marlene was briefly taken aback by his total nudity, but decided not to say anything. Jerome was also clearly embarrassed, and darted up the stairs to the bedroom.

Max wiped down his underbelly with a wet towel, causing his litter to stir slightly. He rubbed a hand across the taut dome. “I’m sorry, I know it’s cold…” he said aloud, just as a harsh knock played on the door. 

“Yeah?”

“You done in there?”

“Yeah.”

Jerome opened the door slightly, sticking his hand through. It held another pair of boxers. “You need any help putting these on?” he asked, a bit flirtatiously.

“I’m fine, I think,” said Max, not picking up on Jerome’s intentions.

He took the pants and waddled back to the toilet as Jerome walked away. It took much effort, but once he sat down he was able to loop his legs through and shimmy them all the way on once he got up. He felt… Different. Lighter, in a way. He took stock of his belly in the mirror as he waddled back to it. Sure enough, it was lower– much lower. His belly had been slowly dropping over the weeks, but this was the biggest instance by far, and it was probably Jerome’s fault.. He cautiously looked out the window- Sure enough, an orangey hue had appeared in the sky. Sunset- and therefore, night- was approaching much faster than he had anticipated. He rubbed his belly, his children sharing in his anxious anticipation. He lifted his belly as he walked out back to the living room. He could feel the children pressing down on his pelvis. He didn’t know how it made him feel. When he came back to the living room, Marlene turned down her glasses, her opalescent eyes glimmering over the rims. Jerome’s face took on a slightly pallid look.

“What’s the matter?” Max asked.

“You’ve dropped quite a bit all the sudden, Max.” Marlene said, grimly. “You feeling all right?”

“For the most part…” Max said, circling his thumbs on the bottom of his belly, “Though… they feel pretty low, too.”

Marlene’s face turned grim as she noticed the window. “It’s getting late… Jerome?”

“Yes?”

“Best you’d get going, yes?”

Jerome nodded, rushing upstairs to change into something more than sweatpants. As he did so, Marlene shot Max a concerned look. 

“Honey, please!” Max yelled as his husband darted off, “it’s not like I’m in labor right this instant!” 

Jerome stopped for a moment, as though lost in thought.

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right. Shouldn’t get ahead of myself.”

“I mean. You should still get the bag together.”

“...Yeah.” Said Jerome, as he continued off towards the nursery.

The triplets stirred within Max. They seemed… frustrated lately. Max couldn’t find a better word to describe it. He stroked his belly, pressing deep into the taught and tender flesh. Soon… he thought, to them as much as himself, losing himself in a mixture of deep thought and ecstatic pleasure as his brood got more and more worked up from his agitation. He only snapped out of it when Jerome came back into the room. Jerome joined in on this little ritual, laying his chin upon his husband’s womb and looking up wistfully. 

“Babe, I’ve been thinking…” the pregnant man said, “This is our last day with this… our last day alone together…”

Jerome’s ears practically perked up.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t we have our last bit of alone time before tonight?”

Jerome was smiling from ear-to ear– His slightly sharper-than-normal canines were on full display. 

“Shall I take you to the bedroom, my dear?” 

“Not unless you’re willing to try to lift me up there” Max responded with a smirk.

Jerome stopped for a moment, thinking to himself, rubbing his husband’s belly as though he was stroking his chin. Max couldn’t help but moan slightly- the sensation of his husband’s calloused hands on his aching stretchmarks turned him on in a way nothing else quite did. A devious smile crossed Jerome’s face.

“I’ll permit you to continue…” Max said, his voice taking on a deeper, more stately air. The husbands often did a bit of roleplay in the bedroom- Max taking the role of the kingly, demanding dominant, and Jerome playing the role of the wily, rule breaking not-so-submissive. Max’s “punishments” would become increasingly erotic, Jerome’s “subversions” even more so, each seeking to make the other finish first. Jerome, in this case, not only followed his husband’s order, but exceeded it. He placed the tip of his tongue against the base of his husband’s belly, and slowly licked up the linea nigra– the faint line of pigment running up the center of the stomach. When he reached his husband’s popped bellybutton, the most stretched, sensitive part of his belly, he stopped, and instead teethed it slightly, playing with it using his mouth. Max was trembling and whimpering at the maneuver, but hadn’t quite achieve climax just yet. Jerome stopped, but started drumming at the base of Max’s tummy with the tips of his fingers. 

“C’mon, Big Daddy,” said Jerome, “You’re so close, I can feel it. Just give in.

“Stop–oh–st-stop this at once!” Max cried, fighting against his every urge and instinct.

Jerome lifted up his hand as though surrendering, smug look still on his face. Max eyed his sizable bulge, and planned his next move.

“What shall I do next, oh Master?” Jerome asked/

“Your pleasuring me has made me most… dirty…” Max said, gesturing to his chest, which was now leaking slightly and covered in “milk.” “I would like you to clean it.” Despite his top surgery, Max still lactated- his nipples had become swollen, and his chest puffed up slightly.  At first it was far and away the most dysphoria-inducing thing about this whole pregnancy, but seeing  how Jerome reacted to it made him feel a bit better about it. While he wouldn’t breastfeed very much, if at all, when the children were born, he knew Jerome would enjoy this “last hurrah.” Predictably, Jerome leapt at the opportunity, drinking his husband’s colostrum like it was the last potable thing on earth, keeping a hand on Max’s belly as the children started squirming from the stimulation. Jerome stopped briefly- now it was his turn to be panting from ecstasy.

“Master, may I disrobe?”

“You may,” Max said, himself still out-of-breath with pleasure, “If you do the same for me as well.”

With that, Jerome unsheathed his considerable erection, throwing his sweats and underwear on the ground beside him. He then reached for his husband’s waist, taking full inventory of his heavy, soft thighs before peeling off his oversized boxers. 

“Master, may I return to my task?”

“I suppose,” Max said, doing well to hide the pleasure he was taking.

Jerome began on the other side, punctuating his suckling first by making broad strokes along his husband’s active belly, then eventually by grinding his huge cock against it, seemingly subconsciously, eventually stopping his titty-sucking entirely as both husbands dropped all pretenses, becoming completely overwhelmed by carnal pleasure. Jerome shifted slightly so as to grind on the sensitive underside of his husband’s belly, feeling his pups kick and squirm against him as his mind turned only to erotic frenzy.

“Augh… Please… Please-eugh- finish in me! I’m so close!” Max moaned.

“I…urgh… I’m trying!” Jerome cried, immediately before coming all over the bottom of his husband’s belly. “I… I’m sorry Master…” he panted, “I’ve failed you.”

“Augh… D-do what you have to!” Max barked, “I need this to end!”

As Max sat there, desperately trying to calm his roiling belly, Jerome did the only thing that came to mind. He crouched down to his knees and stuck his head between his husband’s legs, devouring Max’s transmasculinized pussy like the savage wolf he could be. 

“FUUUUCK!” Max roared as he finally climaxed, his head falling back on the chair. Both men sat there– nude, sweaty, panting messes that they were- and simply took a few minutes to breath. Max (and his unborn children) went to sleep, the pleasure of the event only exacerbating how tired it made him. Jerome stood up, smiling at how peacefully his husband slept. He knew Max would need the energy- the next day or two would be rough on both of them, but him especially.

When Max awoke again, it was nearly 4 P.M. The sun would set in only a few hours. Jerome came back into the living room, another plate of french toast in hand.

“Good morning, handsome,” He said, stroking his husband’s hair softly and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I guess I did a real number on you, huh?”

“Maybe,” Max retorted as he grabbed the plate, “But I got you first this time.”

“Heh. We’ll call it a draw.”

Jerome sat down on the couch next to the recliner, placing a hand on the belly.

“I’m surprised they’re still asleep right now,” Max said between bites, “but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. They’ve been worked up all day,” he continued, stroking his tummy slightly. “I think they’re tired of being in here. Try not to wake them up, it’s nice to not be jostled for once.”

As Max ate, Jerome fished out his phone.

“I should probably call Marlene, you think?”

Marlene was a lot of things. She was a powerful witch, a master herbalist, a birth coach, Jerome’s childhood best friend, and on occasion, the couple’s mutual friend with benefits. She had the duty of assisting Max on these long full moon nights when Jerome’s beastly instincts took hold and he went to his ancestral forest to hunt.