#tm breeding

(Stopppp, you’ve got me so wet so fast, holy shit 🥴)

Not even a few days after it takes and I’m bred my hands are mindlessly at my belly, rubbing and feeling at it under and on top of clothing, no matter where I am or where I go. Even in the early stages it’d be so obvious to the trained eye that I’m pregnant, with it becoming more and more obvious each day to everyone besides myself.

I’d write morning sickness off as a stomach bug, the tenderness in my flat chest as random soreness. The growing tight heat of my lower belly would just be remnants of said stomach bug and me just gaining a few pounds— I kept meaning to cut down on the sweets. There was no way I’d be pregnant from a single one off fling so there’s nothing to worry about.

Everyone around me knows, everywhere I go it’s obvious, especially as I grow bigger, hell, even my tits, formerly flat from surgery, are budding alongside my belly. It’s rare to see me with my hand off my bump, the action purely instinctual, though I still pay no mind to the “beer gut” I am gaining, even if I’m starting to outgrow my clothes entirely.

Even as the baby starts to kick, I write it off as muscle spasms, though deep down at this point I know. I know I’m knocked up and am well on my way to pushing my unplanned child out of my puffy, pregnant cunt.

This doesn’t stop me from trying to continue to deny it though. I refuse to change from my usual, wear anything different or anything that could help, leaving my swelling belly to be bare where my shirts can no longer cover it, my newly milk-filled tits to leak, and my pants to no longer button thanks to my widening hips.

The squeezing contractions of early labor still don’t pull me from this deliberate denial, only resulting in me rubbing at my belly even more, same as I had in the beginning. Not even my water breaking and the subsequent pressure deep in my pelvis is enough to sway me from my refusal to acknowledge how I was now. It’s only when my swollen cunt begins to open and crown around the surprise child that had been growing within me for months that I finally acknowledge that I’m pregnant and I’m going to have to PUSH

Maybe you don't realise but in the past few weeks you've been receiving nervous glances in public. After all everyone can see the way your milk is leaking through your much too tiny shirt that covers NONE of your heavy bump. It's riddled with stretchmarks and your bellybutton has popped. It really does look like you cannot get any more pregnant.

They've all been nervous about you suddenly doubling over in pain and your water exploding out of your cunt. Not that you realised any of it. 😖 Not until you felt the head drop into your birthcanal, not until your body forced you to push.

Ughhhh yessss

Or maybe even as it’s coming out of my stretching cunt I still try and deny it—

I had been on a day out and thought the burst and release of fluid from between my legs was instead an accident, I had been having so little room in my bladder the past few months. The squeezing cramps of my muscles and my forgetfulness in remembering that I needed the restroom until it was urgent probably were the cause.

Onlookers that I was oblivious to watch in frozen shock as they see this happen and my subsequent waddle away to the nearest restroom.

There’s an undeniable pressure pushing hard onto my pelvis, and all I can think to do is rub at the tightening flesh and muscle of my unclothed belly. I’m huffing and panting when I enter the restroom, the cramps continue to squeeze me tight and the pressure has now turned to the sensation of something inside me opening me wide. I can’t help but moan deeply as I feel my cunt begin to gape open, my sore folds rubbing against the denim of my unbuttoned jeans.

The only other person within the restroom is a kind stranger (perhaps you) that knows what is happening, despite my denial.

You follow me to the floor as I reluctantly crumple, unable to keep standing in face of the gripping squeeze of cramps and back and forth opening of my cunt, stretching around something huge.

You tell me I’m in labor, though I’m adamant that I can’t be, there’s no way I could be pregnant, though the decent of the baby through my canal says otherwise.

You’re able to convince me to allow you to pull my jeans off, though in their soaked state, you’re only able to pull them and my boxers half way down my quaking thighs. I let out a roar as I give into that urge to push despite not knowing what for and you’re able to see my lips open once again, this time stretching me fully to a crown.

I’m on my back in crying how it hurts, both my eyes and tits weeping from the flood of sensations and hormones. You pet my distended belly, telling me how good I’m doing and to give a few nice and small pushes followed by one big one, to which I do, screaming that something’s not right because I’m not pregnant.

I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what is happening, considering how insatiable I have been. Im near constantly wet over this insane need for my cunt and womb to be filled up.

Fuck, my tdick is so hard and sensitive just thinking about it.

Please, I need to be fucked and filled with cum, so much so that I’m sure I’m pregnant by the end of it. I need to be railed by a cock that’s going to stretch me from the inside, just like the baby it puts in me will stretch me out 9 months later as I scream it out.

@pickledpet :

“I hope you're getting worked up, this would be unimaginably hot...😵‍💫

I'd feel so guilty cause I'd want to help you give birth but I wouldn't be able to stop myself from constantly complimenting your huge belly and I could only tear my eyes away from your labouring cunt to stare at your shirt that has become see-through due to your breasts leaking so much.

I'd keep finding excuses to stroke your belly, touch your nipples and "help you stretch" around the baby's head. I would hardly be able to keep my composure watching you like that, my cunt would be so fucking wet...💕💕😖

I'd secretly hope you have another baby tucked in the back of your distended womb, waiting to dip down your cervix and fill your birthcanal. 😵‍💫”

——————-

Ughhhhhh absolutely please 😩

And I can just imagine, as you lift the newborn out from out between my legs, forcing me to start to finally process the meaning of the events that had just transpired I let out a wail as I am wracked with another large and agonizing contraction, the sensation of something opening me from the inside once again causing me to scream that there’s something else inside me, the thought of twins far from my mind.

You cradle my first born in one arm and press your hand of your other against my opening as it flutters between the final contractions before the head begins to press against me from the inside. You tell me I could be having twins and to give a nice big push like I had before. I bear down, refusing to believe your words.