This is my first time posting in Stories, and this is the first story like this I've ever written. Sorry if it's long and the title feels kind of generic. I think it's a fairly basic mpreg situation, but hopefully some unique flair to it. Anyway, let me know if you're into it! Part 2 is done, and Part 3 will be soon...
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The Horny Sea Horse
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BEFORE
My wife, Annie, and myself tried to get pregnant naturally for over a year. No luck with daily ovulation strips, cycle tracking, any of it. Finally, we went to unavoidably-dread-provoking doctors’ appointments to see if there was a issue with either of our reproductive systems. My sperm count was well within healthy limits, but, though she was producing eggs healthily, Annie’s uterus would be unable to carry a viable fetus. We were pretty crushed when the OB/GYN told us, and visibly so, I’m sure. “What about something experimental?” she had asked us, the care obvious in her voice. We said we’d try just about anything, and “experimental” didn’t scare us away after over a year of trying, especially considering our late-breaking unfortunate fertility news. She gave us a referral.
The “experimental” fertility specialist’s office was, in my initial response to it, bizarrely bereft of any pregnant women. I’d loved and been rather obsessed with pregnancy my whole life, and it was absolutely my fetish. So, when I entered a fertility doctor’s office and found no such eye candy (I’d more or less been trained to look for it after so many appointments), it was extremely noticeable. Secondly, I noticed a lot of overweight men, some accompanied by women, some not. Whatever, plenty of people are overweight, and maybe the fertility doctor had a specialty in sperm count improvement, right? Obesity lowers sperm count, I think? I easily wrote it all off as coincidence, because how the fuck could I have known what the appointment would bring?
They called us into one of the waiting rooms, and a nurse entered just after us. Annie asked if she needed to undress and put on a robe, but the nurse said, “that won’t be necessary.” The nurse then took vitals from me and not Annie, adding more to our confusion. Most of our appointments we’d been to recently involved my wife spending a lot of time in a hospital gown, usually having to expose quite a bit of herself in the process. They had never taken much interest in me, besides the semen I had released into their test cup the one time. So what the hell was going on? No intense physical examination of Annie’s parts, but something involving me this time? Annie and I had looked at each other with obvious confusion in our eyes while the nurse was in the room, but didn’t have time to process together before the doctor entered and relieved the nurse.
“Dr. Lucas,” he said upon entering, extending his hand first to me, then to Annie. “You two look perplexed!” he said, chuckling a bit to himself. “We do things a little bit differently, here, as you’ve certainly already noticed,” he went on. “Basically, we’ve become adept here, and at a few sister clinics, at providing synthetic uteri for folks struggling to conceive. You two, based on your charts, are perfectly physically capable of conception, it’s just that Annie would be unable to carry the baby to term. Not to worry! That’s where Jarred comes in!” I must’ve looked puzzled; Annie certainly did. “You’re a pretty healthy guy, which makes things relatively easy, and you’re likely to have a complication-free pregnancy.” Annie looked downright confused. “He’s healthy, so…I can easily carry a baby to term all the sudden?” she asked haltingly. “Nope!” Dr. Lucas replied cheerfully. “Jarred will be doing the carrying. I know this raises obvious questions, but that’s why we’re in the experimental category! We can surgically implant a synthetic uterus and a few nutrient-bringing pipes, for lack of a better layman’s term, in Jarred. Then, after a few months of hormone therapy, we’ll implant an embryo in the new uterus, and Jarred should have a very healthy pregnancy!” We were stunned, obviously, but Annie grabbed my hand, made meaningful eye contact with me, and we both nodded. “We’re in!” she said, smiling bigger than I’d seen in months.
I still had a few questions, though. “But…how, exactly, does this work? How have we not heard of it?” Dr. Lucas put his clipboard down. “Well, our success rate wasn’t great at first, and going public with our failures would’ve been a serious misstep, despite the fact that we could successfully get a man pregnant. Finally, just about a year ago now, we had our first successful male delivery…C-section, of course!” He must’ve seen the terror in my face as I’d suddenly started wondering exactly where the baby would come out of me. “Now, we’ve had dozens of successful pregnancies, and no serious issues in months. You may have noticed the men with bellies in the waiting room? Currently, I’ve got 32 pregnant male patients in my care.” My mind was pretty thoroughly blown by all this. I supposed this kind of thing could go unnoticed in the world, as I had written off his entire waiting room as just being overweight men, not noticing that most of the weight was being carried exactly where a pregnancy would put it. “Would you like to speak to another of my patients? That usually helps quite a bit at first,” Dr. Lucas offered. “Please!” I replied, hearing the desperation in my own voice.
Dr. Lucas returned a minute later with a man who, now that I knew to look for it, must have been 6 or 7 months pregnant, and not simply obese. “Hi!” the man said as he entered. He extended his hand: “Charlie, 30 weeks tomorrow,” he said, clearly proud. “Dr. Lucas imagines you may have a question or two for me?” He and the doctor both chuckled a bit. Old news for them, apparently, but we were still bowled over, to the point that neither of us could come up with a question for a solid 30 seconds. “May I touch your belly?” I asked, finally, though I don’t know what I imagined I could learn from it. “Sure thing!” he replied, instantly lifting his stretched-out t-shirt. He was a hirsute man, apparently, and thin black hair covered the entirety of his torso, including his perfectly round, stretch-mark free baby bump. I touched, pushing in a bit. Perfectly firm, exactly the same as the few pregnant ladies’ bellies I’d had the privilege to touch in my life. I felt the blood start going to my dick, my fetish suddenly revealing itself to hold a new bi-sexual aspect. Whatever, I thought, having never considered myself 100% straight anyway.
Annie touched Charlie’s bare belly next, looking at it in awe. “How do you feel?” she asked timidly, apparently also not able to come up with any of the thousands of more enlightening questions that might rightfully be asked in this bizarre situation. “Awkward, but great!” Charlie said. “Honestly, the pregnancy books for women…well, all pregnancy books, for that matter…well, they’ve been perfect for me. Everything’s exactly on the same schedule, same side effects as though I were a woman carrying a baby. Went through morning sickness in my first trimester, frankly horny as hell through my second, now enjoying the experience but wanting my body back in the third. The only substantial difference is I didn’t go for the breasts, so no milk is coming in, and my chest has only grown slightly. Nipples definitely darkened, though. No escaping that, apparently.” Dr. Lucas must’ve the seen the confusion on our faces at “didn’t go for the breasts,” so he stepped in again. “With the right hormones,” he said, “we can get milk to come in, and Jarred could breastfeed, if that appeals. I’d say I’ve gotten about 50/50 decisions on this, with a lot of couples opting to bottle-feed rather than have even more radical bodily changes.” I almost interrupted him with my simple statement, “I want the breasts.” Annie, Dr. Lucas, and Charlie all laughed. “Remember, they’re for the baby!” Dr. Lucas kiddingly reprimanded. I wanted the full experience, I had instantaneously realized. Tits included.
I started the hormones immediately following the initial appointment with Dr. Lucas. It would take three months of therapy before we could safely put in the synthetic uterus (and assorted baby-making piping). It was…intense. Annie had been slightly jealous of my taking over the pregnancy she’d always imagined for herself, but some of my mood swings and unexpected bodily changes made her quickly grateful that it was me and not her. Especially since I found just about every change, even when objectively unpleasant, pretty damn sexy. The process of becoming pregnant was, unsurprisingly for someone with a pregnancy fetish, pretty fucking sexy from start to finish for me.
Unlike Charlie, I am not a hirsute man, so as soon as the bodily changes came from the hormones (emergence of breasts most notably), my torso could easily have passed for a woman’s. My face, too, seemed to take on a more feminine, almost softened aspect, and I found I couldn’t grow facial hair even if I’d wanted to. I only had to shave about once every 10 days, and even then it was just stubble that had become barely noticeable. For those few months, with the breasts being the only readily apparent difference between me and typical men, I frequently wore a tightly-wrapped piece of soft linen around my chest. I didn’t feel ready for the attention that I may well be in for once I had a baby bump along with the new tits, and my modest, A-cup rack (relatively small pre-milk, at least!) was easy enough to hide.
Around the house, though, Annie found my new parts more than a little intriguing, and I’d frequently roam the house wearing nothing but boxer shorts. She’d rub on my nipples, gently squeezing now and then, and I would get an erection the likes of which I had never experienced. It was a new pair of tits in our relationship that I could touch, see, and feel. Goddamn, the feelings! I had never had much sensitivity in my nipples, but I was now massively turned on by as little as a t-shirt lightly brushing against them. It was wholly new and very welcome, easily making up for the slight soreness of growing a female-esque rack over the course of a few weeks. Gripping a tit with one hand while masturbating furiously with the other became a very frequent habit, especially as Annie couldn’t quite keep up with how horny I’d become. It was the hormones to some extent, at least according to Dr. Lucas, but also just how novel it was to have my own pair of tits. And, of course, the impending pregnancy…
The 3-month intensive hormone therapy went by, and I went in for the truly major surgery of having a uterus inserted (and various pipes connected correctly, of courss). I wasn’t nervous before I went under anesthesia, but elated. I was really about to have my own womb, and every step of the process got me closer to a fantasy I had never had reason to even entertain. Recovery wasn’t the easiest in the world, especially as I had to refrain from too strenuous of physical activity (i.e. fucking & masturbating) in order to keep my stomach stitches from bursting. The scar was exactly where C-section scars usually are, though slightly larger, as a bit more of my insides had to be accessible for the piping hook-ups. They’d re-open the same wound when it was time to deliver the baby, which Dr. Lucas assured me would make the whole thing a little easier. Just the one incision to deal with sounded pretty good to me, especially compared to when my imagination had immediately gone to pushing a newborn out of my urethra. Placing my hands just under my navel afterwards, I couldn’t even feel the synthetic uterus under my skin. Scientific miracles were just piling up.
They did make another tiny incision a month after my first surgery, though, just below the C-section one, in order to implant the embryo. It was safe, at that point, as my body had successfully accepted the uterus, and all my physical functions had returned to normal (corrected for some hormonal feminization, of course). We knew Dr. Lucas had had success in combining our respective eggs and sperm we gave him just before starting the hormone therapy, and several embryos had been frozen, awaiting my readiness. I was ready at the expected point, about four months after our first appointment with Dr. Lucas, and the first attempt at implanting the embryo was a success.
I was fucking PREGNANT.
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MONTH 1
Let's get the negative stuff out of the way: I'm tired as hell almost all the time, and the smell and/or sight of certain foods make me nauseous/sometimes vomit. I can hardly type the word "egg" without gagging, never mind seeing Annie cooking or eating them. I've been napping a lot due to the fatigue, though most of my naps have started involuntarily, which is not my ideal.
Apart from those relatively mild issues, though, things are pretty great. The most notable changes thus far, I'd say, are to my nipples and areolas. My nipples were getting sensitive before, but it's at a different level now. Sometimes it's even uncomfortable to play with them, though I've only really let that stop my activities once or twice. They've gotten a lot darker, too, from barely being distinguishable from the skin around them to a deeper red/pink (I'm a light-haired man, so I'm dealing in reds rather than browns). My areolas are only slightly lighter than my nips, and they've at least doubled in diameter (to two or three inches, I'd say). I'm still getting a kick out of having real tits to begin with, and these vibrant visual improvements are very, very welcome. I'm extremely attracted to them despite them being mine (technically: they still don't truly feel like a part of me, in a sorta fun way), and I hardly know what to do with my sexual energy revolving around them. Annie gave me a handjob the other day (easiest/quickest way to satisfy me much of the time), and I requested she rub my cum over my tits when I finished. She was game, and even thought it was hot. I was left slightly sexually confused. It was a completely new impulse for me, and I'm still kind of working through the novel horny feelings...
Generally, horny feelings abound. I find the plain fact of being pregnant incredibly erotic. Even the "negative" parts have a sexual upside: I got so worked up during one nauseous spell that I ended up jerking off kneeling in front of the toilet in between gagging fits, just because I could apply the term "morning sickness" to myself.
I'm pregnant. I, a man with a deep-seated, life-long pregnancy fetish, am pregnant. So every damn part of the experience is amazing, and most are highly exciting. It's way too early to worry about stretch marks (which I'm sure will get me off if I get them, anyway!), but I've begun moisturizing nonetheless. I've got baby oil, shea butter, coconut oil...all sorts of things in the rotation. I massage (or, if I'm lucky, Annie massages) the moisturizers into the area directly below my navel in particular, but I always end up coating more or less my entire torso. I must spend at least an hour a day rubbing and/or getting rubbed (not counting dick rubbing, of course... that'd add a few more hours daily!), and, again, I'm not even going to start showing for a few more months.
Ok, I need to go jerk off for the fourth (maybe 5th?) time today...
MONTH 2
This'll be my most complain-y post of my pregnancy, I hope (and expect - things are supposed to get a bit easier soon!). My damn legs ache for no reason, which, upon researching the matter, is totally typical two-months pregnant stuff. I'd never heard of this particular symptom, though, so the horny associations with pregnancy aren't clicking for me.
Much like this month's even more pronounced fatigue, it's hard to find the erotic element in my legs' discomfort. Additionally, I'd say I'm 100% into morning sickness territory now, with routine puking and inescapable smell/sight aversions to certain foods. When I'm actively puking, it's much more difficult to work up the boner and jerk it at the toilet. Even pregnancy can't make vomit erotic for me, which means, luckily, I will never find vomit erotic. Sorry, weird tangent.
The more I think, the more side effects come to mind, so I'll stop considering after just briefly mentioning my nipples. They're way too sensitive now, and I can barely touch them at all with masturbatory intent. It's frustrating, as tightly gripping my tits quickly became my jerk-off go-to. Honestly, though, I've barely felt up to jerking it more than once or twice a day for the past few weeks. Those are pre-pregnancy numbers, which is just depressing.
If not really erotic at the moment, my pregnancy remains utterly fascinating to me. I learned today that my uterus has already doubled in size, now approximating a tangerine. Even with it being synthetic in its way, I can't fucking believe this all is happening inside of me. I feel reverent toward my body, which is strange and great simultaneously. Huge, massive, towering respect for women repeatedly going through this. It's amazing, but way too difficult to be taken for granted, as seems to happen all too often.
Interesting but tough month; more excitement incoming!
MONTH 3
I'm FEELING pregnant!!! I realized a few days ago that it had stopped feeling as abstract as it had at the start of my pregnancy. I was way into the darkened nipples and premature moisturization, but the pregnancy was a bit theoretical feeling. I realized this the first morning I could feel a new firmness in my lower stomach, right where the uterus was placed. PREGNANCY!!! This is just straight-up pregnant stuff, not a side effect, but a sign of the real fucking thing itself. This is all really and truly happening.
In addition to the newly-firm belly I can't keep my goddamn hands off (and I can easily cum directly on!), my waist has most definitely thickened. I've always been pretty thin, so I'm really noticing this change, however minor it’s been thus far. I've taken to more sweatpants than jeans, as zippers and buttons quickly became unfriendly to me. I'm slightly worried about the clothing options going forward. No maternity sections for men, after all. I guess loose, oversized t-shirts will probably suffice to cover the bump, maybe just showing off a tiny bit of underbelly cleavage, particularly in public, for fellow pregnancy enthusiasts' and my own exhibitionist self's gratification. As long as my waist doesn't balloon to ridiculous sizes, I should be ok with loose bottoms pulled up to just below my drooping belly. I'm getting way ahead of myself with that "drooping" description, but I'm also getting way horny, so I'll keep that particular word in mind for later...
The waist, in addition to the firm uterus, feels like I'm just a teensy bit away from showing, which makes me pretty much want to explode with semen. That might be a bit of a gross explanation, but the anticipation makes me feel like it's going to be momentous, and momentously erotic. I've still been going out in public with my tits ~hidden (getting harder now, as they’re definitely growing). I'm waiting to make my publicly-engorged debut once I can show off a real bump.
It. Will. Be. Glorious. I imagine myself approaching every single person whose eyes linger on my midsection, grabbing their hands, shouting "Touch!" as I place their palms to my belly. Obviously exaggerated, but I can absolutely imagine striking up conversations with strangers. I guess that'll require more exposition than most female pregnancies, the story of which is near-universally "a guy came inside me." Maybe I should roughly prepare how I'll explain myself. As a sort of medically-experimental surrogate? However I go about it, there are bound to be follow-up questions, and probably a follow-up me-jerking-off-in-the-bathroom. I was always intensely excited considering accompanying a pregnant Annie in public, but I'm somehow even more turned on with it being me. I cannot fucking wait till I’m showing.
In more present matters, I've passed the 10-week mark, which means most of my baby's (“My baby”! Holy shit!) critical development is done. That calls for a huge sigh of relief from me! I haven't been stressed out thus far, really (horny is overwhelming most things), but this does make me feel pretty great and optimistic. I'll obviously still keep healthy and be very careful, but it's nice to know the highest stakes part of the pregnancy is over. This is usually the time in one's gestation when you start telling people you're pregnant, as the danger of miscarriage drops way down. I don't know how we're going to approach the "telling friends and family" part yet...but I'm still not showing, so I think we can put it aside for the moment.
Presently, morning sickness is lingering, but it's vastly better than last month, and very rarely leads to actual vomiting. I've also been getting winded extremely easily, which apparently has to do with increased blood volume due to my growing fetus.
At this point in a pregnancy, the books say, your uterus is supposed to gain a little distance from your bladder, making frequent urination a bit less of an issue. They must have placed my uterus a little differently in relation to my bladder, I think, as frequent urination is a symptom I did not experience. Frankly, I wish I had, because it's not so much disgusting (like the puke) as sort of sexily unwieldy (like my eventual, sure-to-be-exaggerated waddle).
With my thin frame, I wouldn't be surprised if I was showing within just a few weeks. Increased firmness and waist inches are great, but the more visible changes they directly lead to is mind-blowing to think about. Also, I've either become rather inured to the nipple sensitivity or it has lessened, as I'm back to a pretty furious sex drive (including much of the aforementioned cumming directly on my firm pre-bump!).
If the smaller changes have gotten me this worked up, I can hardly even imagine actually showing. I might not get to show off in public as much as I'd like, as I may just spend all of every single day laying naked in bed, reaching clumsily over my giant belly to grab and stroke myself to completion. Dear god am I excited...
MONTH 4
Before my usual horny ranting and raving, I realize I've hardly mentioned the wonderful Annie in all this! Overall, I'd say she's a bit disappointed to miss out on the pregnancy adventure she'd imagined for herself, but seriously grateful to me and relieved about not having to personally deal with the majority of the symptoms. She doesn't share my pregnancy fetish, but she's usually game for even slightly reasonable requests (again, rubbing my cum on my tits, etc.). I think she likes the changes to my body so far, as, for example, my thickening waist has given me something of an ass to speak of for the first time in my life. Also, she's bi-, so the tits are a huge draw, especially as they've been growing more noticeably and getting darker and darker at the nipples and areolas. I love when she sucks my nipples, and can't fucking wait for my milk to come in to spice up that particular activity...
My principle concern in relating to Annie sexually during my pregnancy is that she'll be put off or feel left out at how hot I'm finding myself. She has seemed a bit annoyed a few times when I've resorted to masturbation without even seeing if she wanted to get amorous, occasionally leaving her horny and unfulfilled. I can always go again, though, as I've told her.
I don't know if it's hormonal or just a result of my intense and constant horniness, but my refractory period seems to have shrunk considerably. I still can't really cum back-to-back (I need 7-10 minutes to be able to orgasm again, which I'm pretty sure is considerably reduced from my pre-pregnancy stats), but I'm horny instantly after I've cum. This allows for rubbing my cum into my belly without that post-orgasm disgust with "dirty" things that used to inevitably arrive. I'd love the idea of doing something fun with my ejaculate during masturbation, but once I did cum, I'd be grossed out by that kind of idea, and not go through with it. Not so, now! Instantly horny again, even if I have to wait 7-10 to head towards completion again.
I’m very happy to have discussed Annie and my refractory period on here, but I’m afraid I’ve severely buried the lede, because…
I’M SHOWING!!!!!!
It’s strange, because, at least since I noticed the abdominal firmness, I’ve been scrutinizing my profile daily, looking for the slightest hint. Then, suddenly, last Friday, I noticed it. Maybe I had to memorize the way I looked before in order to register the change? I don’t know. It seems weird that one day you can say you’re not showing (with ample investigation conducted), and the next you clearly are. As soon as I noticed it, I rushed elatedly (and topless) to Annie, of course, who spun me 90 degrees to one side, evaluated my profile, and said, “Yep, you’re showing!” Goddamn, does this feel amazing. It’s still only visible to the highly-trained eye, of course. Annie and I can tell, but I can’t imagine getting even a second glimpse from family and friends, never mind people who’ve never seen my skinny ass before.
And my ass must be glowing, too. I feel incredible. Fucking powerful, incredibly womanly in the best way, even hornier than before (so, lifetime high: sorry, 14-year-old me!). I feel like I’ve really embraced the femininity angle. I don’t feel even a little bit threatened by it as a man, maybe because my masculinity has never felt even close to as awesome as this does. Maybe one could feel defensive of their gender when the womanly takes control so fully, but I’m just fucking grateful to have this crazily extraordinary experience. In our semi-secrecy around the pregnancy and the fact that I’m within the first 100 or so pregnant men, the whole thing makes me feel like a pioneer. Hormones and a slight cum build-up may be talking here, but I really do feel like a fucking superhero. It’s just a slight mound protruding a centimeter or so from just under my navel, but it’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. And it will probably be topped tomorrow, the next day at the latest. Pregnancy fucking rules.
Just to reiterate a point I feel I’ve made a few times, but always bears repeating, and now a slight tweak: I can jizz on my own bump. And oh boy, do I take advantage of this! Annie is taken with my bump, too, but keeps calling it “cute,” and doesn’t seem to find it particularly sexy. It is legitimately “cute,” so I can’t really fault her. To me, though, it’s a concrete representation of what’s to come over the next 5 months or so, most or all of which I’m intensely excited about. Yes, it’s only just visible today, but if it changes overnight into something noticeable, I’m going to have a constantly evolving/improving physique. Energy levels feel like they’ve returned to normal, but also like they’re higher than they’ve ever been, because of how damned excited I am all the time (my jerk-off numbers are back to looking more than respectable…). I’m absolutely loving this journey, and the huge-bellied months I’ve primarily been obsessed with for my whole life have yet to arrive…
Symptom-wise, nausea seems to be gone completely (woo, second trimester!), and my appetite has not just returned to normal, but really ballooned…as I think I might. I love the fact that my body is growing so much, I feel like I might as well put a little meat on my bony frame in addition to the pregnancy-instigated engorgements. I’ve definitely continued growing in the waist (jeggings look a bit odd on a man, but damn are they comfortable) and tits (B-cup as of last week, and the linen-wrapping solution is no longer viable). I think I’ve noticed just a tiny bit of meat on my upper arms and thighs. It seems like the extra fat is going into parts of the body that are typical for women, I’d guess due to the hormones that have functionally turned me into one. It’s kind of a shame, because if I was noticeably gaining weight as a typical male, a lot would be going to my gut, which is exactly what I desperately crave from my body right now. I LOVE big, soft bellies on BBW women. That’s probably my favorite hyper-specific porn sweet spot, but it’s almost certainly not how I’m going to develop. Oh well. There’s a vast rainbow of incredible gravid physiques, and I remain thrilled that I’ll get to experience even one of them. Babies run big in both Annie and my families, too, so I’m expecting to get seriously large, bump-wise. With how skinny I am, I might just be in for the old “basketball in front, nothing from behind” model. Whatever shape it’s going to be, thus far this may be the most thoroughly moisturized bump in human history.
MONTH 5
Again, allow me to get some new symptom-related complaining out of the way before I rant about my horniness and surging maternal power. First of all, hot flashes?! Really? Strange that the primary symptom of menopause is also found during pregnancy; I guess the two must have some hormones in common, but this one really felt like it struck out of nowhere. I usually run pretty hot, so it doesn’t feel like a completely new sensation, but it is more intense, at least for a few minutes, than other instances of simply “being hot” tend to be for me. Like the sore legs a few months ago, I have no association with hot flashes and pregnancy, so it’s an annoying inconvenience that doesn’t get me hard …yet. Maybe I can form the erotic connection if it keeps happening…
I also have some skin irritation around my waist, where, despite copious moisturizing, the faint beginnings of stretch marks are starting to show. The battle with stretch marks is very, very much ingrained in my head as one of the many sexy inconveniences and losses of bodily autonomy that pregnant women go through. So, it’s sexy as all hell. My ideal pregnant form may be stretch mark free, if you demanded I make the call, but I really love visibly stretched-out bellies, too. Similarly expected, my ankles and feet are swelling - another classic symptom!!! These things that make me feel more pregnant, even if mildly to moderately annoying or uncomfortable, are huge, huge turn-ons. I don’t know exactly what thoughts allow one to masturbate to fine lines on the sides of his abdomen and the fact that his shoes don’t fit, but goddamn it if I haven’t done it (and will absolutely continue).
Last week was my 20th, putting me halfway through the pregnancy. What’s to come is certainly exciting (probably more so than what I’ve experienced thus far, even), but the fact that I know this experience is half-over makes me sad. When I have time to feel sad. Which is when I’m not overtaken with sexual energy. Which is next to never. Fleeting moments of sadness are pretty easy when sandwiched between fucking your wife and jerking off like a maniac, so I feel pretty lucky.
Speaking of fucking the wife, Annie has gotten A LOT more into my pregnant form. At this point, my belly protrudes into a rather flat surface, just sticking out an inch or two from where my belly’d usually rest. It goes smoothly from an inch or so under my tits to an inch or so above my pubic area, gently curving away from and back into my body. And it’s so very, very firm…I fucking love it! I have my hands on it just about all day, and the amount of lotions and such I’ve applied at this point could probably help several hundred needy, dry-skinned people. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about those people at the moment, though, because I’m very much showing, and my wife is very much into it. Annie usually loves doggy-style, which has become a little hard for me with the protruding abdomen, and also involves her facing away from me (i.e., not seeing the bump). She likes climbing on top of my cock, too, but that still doesn’t let her fully enjoy my contours. So, with more creative and acrobatic options pretty solidly off the table, we’ve been doing mostly missionary. Her hands rarely leave my belly as I pound her as hard as I can without crushing my bump. I usually cum inside her, and sometimes she takes some of the semen from her pussy and rubs it into my bump as I’m catching my breath post-orgasm (still easily winded!). With the amount of jerking off I’m doing and Annie frequently chipping in with a little semen rub, my own ejaculate may be the single most-used product on my belly. I should look up if it’s a moisturizer or not…
With the belly pretty solidly out there and the tits having become un-hideable, this month has seen the public debut of my condition. I was pretty nervous to go out at first, despite my exhibitionist fantasies about interactions with gawking strangers. I wore a very loose sweatshirt the first few times I went out visibly pregnant, which very easily hid my state, especially with my self-consciousness compelling me to constantly keep my hands in my pockets, pulling the sweatshirt away from my engorged stomach and tits, making it pretty impossible for anyone to see my actual shape. After a few trips nervously walking around in public like this, as if I were guilty of some sort of crime that needed to be hidden at all costs, I finally got up the nerve to say fuck it, and wore one of my pre-maternity collared t-shirts and jeggings on an excursion to our preferred grocery store. I definitely got some long, hard looks, but rather than seeming curious and amiable, people’s faces looked sort of freaked out, as if engaging with me was the last thing they would ever think to do. A toddler ran up and pointed at my stomach at one point, yelling to his mother “Baby! Baby!” as he did so. His mother quickly apologized to me, grabbed the kid, and dashed for another aisle. Whatever I am to these prying eyes, it’s apparently unnatural. A pregnant woman is probably what I look most like, but I still have enough masculinity in some of my non-engorged features to read as male (male clothing, as well), and this disconnect (understandably) freaks people out. I talk to Annie about possibly trying to pass as female, and I can see a glint of disappointment in her eyes immediately. “Fuck it,” I said without her saying a word back to me. Her eyes were right. The problem was theirs, not mine. I was something new, but not something freakish. I still feel as though I’m deserving of wonder and honor (and a little something sexy…), not disgust and panic. I’d persevere, and I’d eventually find strangers that wanted to rub my belly, damn it!
I did have a few people besides Annie rub my belly this month, though…because we announced our pregnancy to close family and a few friends (!!!), and even did the requisite visiting after such big news. Annie was on the phone with her parents for about an hour explaining exactly what she meant when she’d said “we’re pregnant,” and assuring them that everything was super healthy, and while “experimental” might be a slightly alarming word, whatever “experiment” you might call this was thus far a rousing success. Rather than gingerly tip-toeing my way into it (not to denigrate Annie’s methods; to each her own), I called my mother and said “I’m pregnant.” She immediately said, “Annie, you mean? You guys are pregnant.” I responded bluntly, “No, I’m the pregnant one. Showing and everything. Can we come over?” They lived about an hour away, and it was good to be able to get there just after breaking the news (and letting them digest it at least slightly) and reassure them that everything was as normal as the situation could possibly muster. Embarrassingly, in inviting my mother to touch my belly, I lifted waaaayyyy too much of my t-shirt, exposing my bra-less tits. I hadn’t had to lift my shirt or be careful about this with anyone prior to this, so my instinct to raise my shirt to a typical, socially acceptable male level kind of took over. I quickly covered my entire torso, and apologized. “Nice tits,” my dad quipped from his recliner, and we all laughed for a good long while. God bless that man! He was very happy for us, too.
Telling Annie’s best friend, Rachel, was my favorite, though. Rachel is herself 8 months pregnant with her first, and we thought it might be fun to surprise her with my bump. Annie called and said we wanted to be sure to see her as much as possible before the baby, to get in more of those precious pre-child friend moments, or some such. We knocked on her door, Annie immediately gestured toward Rachel’s huge, round, sundress-clad bump, and went in for a big hug. They embraced for a few seconds, but Rachel saw me over Annie’s shoulder, wearing just my t-shirt and jeggings. “What the fuck?!” was her timeless response. She then looked between my and Annie’s eyes a few times, Annie nodded enthusiastically at her, and she grabbed us both, pulling us in as close to her as her massive bump (and my more modest one!) would allow. It turned out that she’d actually heard about the male-impregnating experimental clinics during her time in nursing school. It was incredibly refreshing not to have to go into the nitty-gritty details, and just talk excitedly with someone about the pregnancy. We rubbed each other’s bellies copiously, and generally had the best bonding time I’d ever had with my wife’s bestie. That 8 month belly of hers was absolutely killer: I had to have Annie drive home so that I could jerk-off…repeatedly.
Anyway, I almost forgot the most exciting thing of the past month: BABY MOVEMENT!!! Man, do I wish I could record exactly what it feels like verbally. The closest comparison I have is being gassy, and feeling the gases move around in your abdomen. Other than that, I can’t think of any internal movements that are even marginally similar. Gas is hardly comparable either, really, largely due not to its feeling different, but to the different connotations of the two. Gas means your stomach is upset, which isn’t fun for most people. Baby movement means your fostering life within your womb, participating in, creating, and becoming one of nature’s miracles. I’ve looked truly pregnant for a little while now, but this is such a tangible change; it feels totally different. The reality of impending parenthood is weighing on me a bit, honestly. But that’s not what this journal is for. It’s for the pregnancy. The movements feel amazing and make me feel great, even when there’s a kick (I think?) to an internal organ. Annie LOVES feeling the movement, rubbing on my bare belly for hours on end waiting for the movement, and searching for visual signs of it, which I think won’t come until the baby’s a bit bigger, but I’m glad Annie is so into it and has something to look forward to! We talked about the feelings we got from the baby movement, and she agreed that it made a more concrete impression on her that we are about to be parents. Impending parenthood mentally put aside, I’ll continue focusing one day at a time on this amazing gestational experience.
MONTH 6
Third trimester, woo! The books generally say you spend your 1st sick and nervous, 2nd energetic and horny, and 3rd unwieldy and uncomfortable. I think I've roughly followed this, with horniness being constantly in play, if not consistently persistent, throughout all 3 trimesters. It seems like discomfort is supposed to supplant the ravenous sex drive, but that can hardly come to pass when your unwieldiness and discomfort turn you on to no end. I think it's going to be a beautiful final act...
Everything is amazing right now, including the tougher parts that seem to taint the pregnant experience for the less sexually-motivated expectant mother (or father!). My lower back and legs are sore nearly all the time due to the strain of carrying my ever-growing bump and seriously enlarging tits (more on that shortly...) Orgasms remain a pregnancy-safe painkiller, though, and I continue to have my share of those! I love the strained muscle feelings in my back and legs almost as much as I love staying off my feet as much as possible (Dr. Jacob's suggestion). I feel SO unwieldy when I keep still and supine for hours on end. Annie pampers me with food, belly rubs, hand-jobs, blow-jobs, and the occasional cowgirl-style fuck when she's in the mood.
I'm ALWAYS in the mood... still! I wish I could somehow know the volume of cum I've rubbed on my bump during my pregnancy. It's gotta be close to a gallon at this point, and with several months and a still expanding belly still to moisturize! Feeling helpless, laying down by doctor's suggestion makes me hot as hell, but so does my (already!) rather uncomfortable time standing and moving about. Every twinge of pain in my back or any part of my legs reminds me instantly of all the (sexy) weight I'm putting on, and how ungainly and out-of-my-control my body is. It feels like the process of gestation has taken over pretty much my whole body at this point, and I can hardly contain how ecstatic that makes me! My body, even though not originally intended for childbearing, knows exactly what to do, and I'm just along for the amazing, ever-shifting ride.
One body part I feel I've very recently lost most of my control over is my tits. Sure, I'd only had any tits to speak of since a few months before we conceived. But... wait for it... MY MILK HAS COME IN!!! Started to, anyway, with my breasts becoming seriously engorged, going up to a C-cup basically overnight. They feel absolutely amazing: tight, firm, round, and ever so heavy in my hands. Heavy enough to hang down and just slightly rest on top of my growing belly, a fertility goddess-type physiology that is only getting more pronounced and sexier. Annie likes to suck on them even more now that they're producing life-sustaining food. When we fuck in our modified-for-bump missionary position, I do my best to lean over and let her suck away while I'm inside of her. My belly is very much in the way of my leaning over, though, so she only gets to suckle for a few seconds before I have to straighten up my torso again. Entirely worth it, especially given that her sex drive is finally growing (not quite equal to mine, but my j/o numbers are up around 10/day, and she has other, non-sexual business filling most of her days!).
The expected pregnancy hormone-boosted hair has arrived, too! Ordinarily I keep my hair pretty short, but I had been growing it out so I could occasionally pass as just another pregnant lady if I felt like it. It's still fairly short by female standards, but it's more than long enough to show off its lustrous new sheen. A harmless, quirky hormonal bonus, making me slightly more beautiful than I already felt! And horny. Always, always horny.
My uterus is supposed to be about the size of a soccer ball at this point, though I'd say my bump is significantly bigger than that. It's rounded out substantially in the last few weeks, now having a sort of tear-drop shape, with the gentle curve under the tits remaining, but a little lower the bump now protrudes much farther and more ball-shaped, sharply curving back into my pubic region. I'm carrying a little low (based solely on my experience looking at pregnant ladies online), which makes me extra excited for the baby to actually drop, as that should be quite the low-hanging, uncomfortably heavy globe!
MONTH 7
Fatigue has settled back in, but the excitement I feel constantly from my engorged body keeps me from sleeping nearly as much as I did in my first trimester.
[side note: Writing something like "my first trimester" still excites and amazes the shit out of me, and I still can't quite believe it's all real. So much has changed in the last few months, it can be hard to hold on to how fucking incredible this never-could-have-imagined experience is. I remind myself frequently to be grateful, and I am as grateful for this opportunity as I've ever been about anything in my life.]
My belly continues to grow, of course. The growth has been mostly further out, rounder, and generally wider over the past few weeks. I thought I'd end up with the frequently seen "basketball belly" in front, and not reading as pregnant from behind. My bump has already outgrown my hips in diameter, though, becoming clearly visible protruding from both sides of my torso when viewed from behind. It's getting firmer, too, in part because the baby is taking up more and more of the space in my abdomen.
It's gotten significantly tighter in tiny bursts, as well; Braxton Hicks contractions have started! I was really looking forward to this, and it truly hasn't disappointed. It's not painful, exactly, just more of a torso-wide pressure. It would probably become painful if it lasted longer, but they rarely go on over a minute. Everything contracts, as the name implies, and my bump becomes harder than a basketball, all the unoccupied space in your belly giving way to a slightly more compact and seriously tighter bump. I wish they lasted longer, even if they did become painful. They're not even long enough to masturbate during! And believe me, I have tried. I've twice (so far) kept myself erect for significant periods of time, waiting for the Braxton Hicks to hit before I really go for the orgasm. One hand on my ridiculously hard and ridiculously sexy belly, one furiously pumping my cock... I haven't been quite fast enough, and the contractions still throw me for a bit of a loop with their novelty and intensity. The pursuit of this particular orgasm will continue, that's for damn sure.
The baby's full-on kicking now, too. The feeling inside me is amazing (and, again, pretty much indescribable... sorry...)! And, luckily for Annie especially, the motion is frequently quite noticeable on my bare bump. I lay nude in bed for hours, with Annie pressing on different areas of my belly to try to provoke a response. I'm not sure she's more successful than random chance would be, but my bump's getting more attention, and no variant of that is bad from my point of view. The kicking does occasionally keep me up at night, which tends to frustrate me only for as long as it takes me to remember to take the opportunity to jerk-off (or, very little annoyed time at all!).
All the aches, pains, awkwardness, and unwieldiness I've mentioned in past months are still present, and have grown in intensity as my bump has grown in size. Not too surprising, as I never stop being pregnant to give my legs a break, but rather continue to get more and more pregnant! Of course the symptoms worsen. Aaaaaand become even more sexy. Everything tires me, and, therefore, everything turns me on. I was very much looking forward to the awkwardness of the 3rd trimester, though the pending discomfort did get me a bit nervous. I'm certainly not out of it yet (and it'll get "worse" going forward), but I've found myself up to the challenge thus far, still feeling much more sexual desire than frustration with my hijacked body. It may be a bit masochistic, which is a mode I've never really explored before, but my horniness is indeed keeping pace with my discomfort.
Speaking of ever-growing horniness, I've recently been cruising our local mall, hoping for some kind of interaction with a stranger or strangers. I discussed my endeavor first with Annie, of course, and the ground rules we put down basically consisted of "no penetrative sex." She truly wouldn't mind (I made sure about 40 times) if I did any other activities with unknown third parties in order to help sate my pregnant appetites. I acclimate myself to the mall's goings-on with my hair down, definitely able to pass for a somewhat masculinely-dressed, run-of-the-mill pregnant lady. Once I'm a bit more comfortable, I sort of tuck the hanging hair into a baseball cap, and must appear as either a pregnant-looking man, or possibly a pregnant lesbian. I wasn't delusional enough to think someone would see me like this and think, “Oh, pregnant men exist now. Cool!" I did know I had the potential to draw someone in, though, because I would've been majorly turned on by a pregnant man myself (and am turned on by own pregnancy, as you’re well aware).
Thursday, I walked the mall's length three times with my baseball cap on, garnering my share of awkward stares from strangers. No one was looking at me with the interest/desire I was looking for. Eventually, I bought a bottle of water and took a seat in the food court off to the side, as the confused looks I was collecting were starting to get to me a bit. I'm very much a pregnant exhibitionist, sure, but I apparently really needed some positive attention for it to feel all right. Suddenly, someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around, and a twenty-something, well-dressed man asked bluntly, "So you're into mpreg?" I had encountered mpreg (male pregnancy, frequently in a fantastical or unrealistic setting) plenty in my internet time with my pregnancy fetish, and I was very glad I knew what he was talking about. "You have no idea," I responded as I began to tell him my story.
"Let's go to the bathroom," he said once he understood the whole deal, and had spent several minutes gently caressing my bump under the table. We found a handicap bathroom in the nearest department store, made sure no one would see us, and entered together, locking the door behind us. "Take off your clothes," he commanded. "Keep the bra, I can't stand tits." I oblige him, and seat my naked self on the toilet. He got nude as well, and came over to me with his cock already half- erect. Mine was very much fully erect, but not currently visible below my seriously large belly. He stood next to me, bending over slightly to vigorously rub my belly. I timidly took his dick in my hand, beginning to pump slowly: the first HJ I’ve ever given! I liked the belly rub, and I liked the dick in my hand. Maybe I'm bi-, after all! After pumping his dick a few dozen times, I built up the nerve to take him in my mouth. I blew him for only about a minute (beginner's luck??) before I felt him start to spasm in orgasm. I quickly took his cock out of my mouth, jerking the cum straight onto my belly as he continued to rub, coating my entire bump in his cum. That was pretty much it; we re-clothed, carefully exited the bathroom separately, and never saw each other again. I'd never been with a man before. It was lovely, honestly. Even without names.
MONTH 8
A symptom got less intense! I didn't anticipate that on any fronts. Turns out the baby can't fully somersault in my womb, as she's (yes, we’re having a girl!) gotten too big to move around that much in the limited space of my abdominal cavity. The movement is more frequent than ever, but kicks rarely land painfully, and Annie's having to stare at my bump even harder to catch it moving at all.
The baby is currently growing at a rate of about an ounce a day, and I would not be surprised if I was getting close to a pound a day. My face has filled out a bit, my arms and legs are noticeably thicker, my ass is "phenomenal" (-Annie), and my bump has just a touch of the BBW softness I love so much, though it was visibly tightening and looking leaner as it became more and more jam-packed with baby. In short, I look fucking awesome, and I know it. I love every damn bit of my fully engorged body.
Oh, did I not mention my tits and belly? The tits are getting seriously squashed in my C-cup bras, and milk is leaking out of them near-constantly. It's sort of a nuisance and requires some clothing planning (for instance, really can't wear a white shirt without a serious bra), but I'm totally into it, as is Annie. I'll lay topless on the bed, and she'll gently touch my nipples to coax out a few drops of milk at a time. This almost inevitably leads to fucking after just a few minutes, as I am somehow hornier than I've yet been, and the slightest sensual provocation puts me in need-to-fuck mode. Our sex positions have gotten even more limited, though I'll get into that in a bit. My sleeping positions are failing me, too, at this point of massive belly. It's massive enough for me to have a pronounced waddle (which I absolutely exaggerate for my own pleasure), which turns even more heads in public, and all of this turns me on ecstatically. I'm horny enough that my ever-increasing fatigue barely puts me to sleep at all. Can't jerk it unless you’re awake, after all!
Bump-wise... IT DROPPED!!! It's bittersweet, as it signals semi-imminent birth. As I'm not having a traditional vaginal delivery (obviously), I wasn't sure the bump would ever drop. It must be a hormonal thing, though, because there it is, bearing down on my pelvic floor. It feels as if it's dragging me down, almost, stretching inevitably towards my (swollen) feet. Light red stretch marks now cover the front, furthest sticking-out part of my seriously engorged belly. There's room between my tits and the top of my belly, now, and despite the tit growth, my breasts no longer rest on my bump (which makes me a bit sad).
Standing so that the back of our couch supported my belly mixed with the fact that my belly was resting against my dick half the time gave me a new idea: a masturbatory bumpjob. If I get an erection and carefully place it between the back of the couch and my gravid midsection, I can thrust against the weight of my belly. I've done it 3 or 4 times (today, ha ha), and only made a cum-coated mess of the couch on my first, not-terribly-well-thought-out session. The next time, I kept my dick in my pants throughout, and made a mess of them, naturally. I guess I'm a bit too horny to think straight sometimes: is this pregnancy brain? It's all fantastic, especially since I was pretty disappointed about not getting bumpjobs from my wife (very minor compared with conception business, but it was a bit of a letdown anyway). This new masturbation trick mixed with the constant stream of cum coating my bump every day made up for some of what I may have missed out on from not experiencing a female pregnancy with my wife. Hopefully she finds some solace in what she gets to experience second-hand, too. I need to ask about that more directly…
Speaking of Annie, it may be tough for us to find a comfortable fucking position, but when we work at it, we can still have a whole lot of fun. Saturday morning, I woke up laying on my side with my dick in her hand, just as she started to stroke my belly and cock at the same time. I fucking love this combination: if I could only choose one thing to do for the rest of my pregnancy, sexual or otherwise, it'd be Annie stroking my best parts with both hands. I came after about 2 minutes (I REALLY like this activity), and she rolled me into my back and began gently rubbing my semen into my entire belly, even up to my tits a little bit.
Touching my tits seemed to remind her of how much she enjoyed them, as she took my glistening-with-cum nipples into her mouth one after the other, suckling gently so as not to trigger unpleasant sensitivities. After the second tit, she put her mouth above my belly and let my own milk drip onto my belly. Then, she started the process of very thoroughly licking it off, starting at the top of my belly and making her way down, paying special attention to my new outie belly button. This must have taken 7-10 minutes (my pregnant refractory period, if you've forgotten), because as she finished licking the bottom of my bump, she moved onto my dick, which was very much ready for another go-round.
She blew me for a minute or two, then I tapped her head so she'd stop, and lugged myself out of bed. I pulled her over to me so that her pussy was flush with the edge of the bed. I could just about enter her from this position, but I made it a lot easier for myself by heaving my belly onto her pubic region, taking the weight off me and removing our primary obstacle. Also, she'd tell me later, further driving her wild for my cock, and even stimulating her clitoris a bit. I got it in her much more easily than usual (love resting that bump wherever I can!) and slowly started the in-and-out motion. She moaned and sat up just enough to be able to take my enormous gut in both her hands, which she knew would drive me wild... and it did, as my cumming two minutes later confirmed! I kneeled in front of her to eat her out after cumming in her (one of her modest sexual kinks), then made out with her passionately with my mouth (and soon hers) filled with cum. She spit cum and saliva into her hand once we unlocked mouths, and rubbed it into my belly tenderly. "Well, that felt like we went full circle somehow, you know? The cum, the bump, my pussy, your cock, all connected and combined in this one tryst. Amazing!" Amazing, indeed. I love my wife.
MONTH 9
It's a real struggle to reach my dick in order to jerk it, but I love every second of trying to reach around my truly massive bump to make contact. Annie's really stepped up, jerking and blowing when I'm too exhausted to reach myself but too horny to abstain from cumming. My bumpjob-with-assistance-from-the-couch trick still works, though it now really exhausts the shit out of me, as most any task or movement of any kind does.
I'm nearing the end of my journey! I hit 39 weeks two days ago, and I'm going in for my C-section tomorrow: being full-term, healthy, and about to give birth lets me breathe a real sigh of relief now that everything's gone so smoothly. I'm super excited to meet our daughter, of course, but I feel like I'm already starting to mourn the loss of this truly transcendent, fully engorged body. My uterus is supposed to be the size of a small pumpkin at this point, so I'm guessing my belly must be filled with many additional mysterious objects, as "small pumpkin" doesn't even come close to covering the size of this epic bump.
To put it concisely, I no longer see the need to exaggerate my waddle. The belly is maybe mid-sized beach ball comparable in size, if not even in the same universe weight-wise. I'd kill for a hollow beach ball gut at the moment, frankly. This massive, unbelievably dense and weighty belly of mine is unwieldy to an almost aggressive degree, its discomfort outgrowing my horniness just in the last week or so. I had a great, horny-ass run of it, that's for sure! I'm down to cummimg a mere two or three times a day, and always with Annie's assistance. I know this is still pretty damn good, but there were some breathtaking days during this pregnancy where I'd easily average two orgasms per hour.
The skin barely containing my bump is absolutely taut, completely smooth to the touch and rather intensely firm. My occasional contractions are no longer Braxton Hicks, but the real kind, indicating I'm closing in on my time (and that my C-section was appropriately scheduled). The light red stretch marks that had been localized to the most front-facing section of my belly have spread and become an angrier, brighter shade of red in some places. Still sexy, I'd say, and battle scars I will wear proudly for as long as they persist.
Annie suggested we fuck at least once today, before the baby arrives tomorrow and halts sexual activity for a nervous-making amount of time. I'm too tired, though, so she blew me, then I rather lazily rubbed on her clit. Both nominally satisfied, I think that officially and anticlimactically ends our pre-baby sex life together. All I really want to do for the rest of today, and probably tomorrow while waiting for the surgery, is stare at my naked, gravid form in my full-length mirror, before it all changes back.
I can't get enough of this form, its constantly shifting shapes and sizes, its wonderfully exaggerated curves, everything about it. I can't see my dick in the mirror, and I don't think I have for the past few months, unless I lift up my belly with both hands (it's fucking heavy!) in order to briefly expose my genitalia. My belly has continued to grow in every direction I can imagine, just as my tits have gotten heavier and lower-hanging as they prepare to nourish a human life (once my womb finishes with it, of course). With the growth of both, the belly and tits are just slightly touching each other again, and I am a very happy fertility goddess.
EPILOGUE
In our brief meeting before the C-section, Dr. Lucas told us they remove the synthetic uterus while your abdominal cavity is open for the delivery.
"Can you not?" I ask hopefully.
"Well, we really don't know if there are any issues with keeping it in long-term, because..."
"Don't worry about long-term," I interrupted the doctor. "I'm doing another round as soon as you can get another embryo in me!"
__________________________________________________________________________
The Horny Sea Horse
___
BEFORE
My wife, Annie, and myself tried to get pregnant naturally for over a year. No luck with daily ovulation strips, cycle tracking, any of it. Finally, we went to unavoidably-dread-provoking doctors’ appointments to see if there was a issue with either of our reproductive systems. My sperm count was well within healthy limits, but, though she was producing eggs healthily, Annie’s uterus would be unable to carry a viable fetus. We were pretty crushed when the OB/GYN told us, and visibly so, I’m sure. “What about something experimental?” she had asked us, the care obvious in her voice. We said we’d try just about anything, and “experimental” didn’t scare us away after over a year of trying, especially considering our late-breaking unfortunate fertility news. She gave us a referral.
The “experimental” fertility specialist’s office was, in my initial response to it, bizarrely bereft of any pregnant women. I’d loved and been rather obsessed with pregnancy my whole life, and it was absolutely my fetish. So, when I entered a fertility doctor’s office and found no such eye candy (I’d more or less been trained to look for it after so many appointments), it was extremely noticeable. Secondly, I noticed a lot of overweight men, some accompanied by women, some not. Whatever, plenty of people are overweight, and maybe the fertility doctor had a specialty in sperm count improvement, right? Obesity lowers sperm count, I think? I easily wrote it all off as coincidence, because how the fuck could I have known what the appointment would bring?
They called us into one of the waiting rooms, and a nurse entered just after us. Annie asked if she needed to undress and put on a robe, but the nurse said, “that won’t be necessary.” The nurse then took vitals from me and not Annie, adding more to our confusion. Most of our appointments we’d been to recently involved my wife spending a lot of time in a hospital gown, usually having to expose quite a bit of herself in the process. They had never taken much interest in me, besides the semen I had released into their test cup the one time. So what the hell was going on? No intense physical examination of Annie’s parts, but something involving me this time? Annie and I had looked at each other with obvious confusion in our eyes while the nurse was in the room, but didn’t have time to process together before the doctor entered and relieved the nurse.
“Dr. Lucas,” he said upon entering, extending his hand first to me, then to Annie. “You two look perplexed!” he said, chuckling a bit to himself. “We do things a little bit differently, here, as you’ve certainly already noticed,” he went on. “Basically, we’ve become adept here, and at a few sister clinics, at providing synthetic uteri for folks struggling to conceive. You two, based on your charts, are perfectly physically capable of conception, it’s just that Annie would be unable to carry the baby to term. Not to worry! That’s where Jarred comes in!” I must’ve looked puzzled; Annie certainly did. “You’re a pretty healthy guy, which makes things relatively easy, and you’re likely to have a complication-free pregnancy.” Annie looked downright confused. “He’s healthy, so…I can easily carry a baby to term all the sudden?” she asked haltingly. “Nope!” Dr. Lucas replied cheerfully. “Jarred will be doing the carrying. I know this raises obvious questions, but that’s why we’re in the experimental category! We can surgically implant a synthetic uterus and a few nutrient-bringing pipes, for lack of a better layman’s term, in Jarred. Then, after a few months of hormone therapy, we’ll implant an embryo in the new uterus, and Jarred should have a very healthy pregnancy!” We were stunned, obviously, but Annie grabbed my hand, made meaningful eye contact with me, and we both nodded. “We’re in!” she said, smiling bigger than I’d seen in months.
I still had a few questions, though. “But…how, exactly, does this work? How have we not heard of it?” Dr. Lucas put his clipboard down. “Well, our success rate wasn’t great at first, and going public with our failures would’ve been a serious misstep, despite the fact that we could successfully get a man pregnant. Finally, just about a year ago now, we had our first successful male delivery…C-section, of course!” He must’ve seen the terror in my face as I’d suddenly started wondering exactly where the baby would come out of me. “Now, we’ve had dozens of successful pregnancies, and no serious issues in months. You may have noticed the men with bellies in the waiting room? Currently, I’ve got 32 pregnant male patients in my care.” My mind was pretty thoroughly blown by all this. I supposed this kind of thing could go unnoticed in the world, as I had written off his entire waiting room as just being overweight men, not noticing that most of the weight was being carried exactly where a pregnancy would put it. “Would you like to speak to another of my patients? That usually helps quite a bit at first,” Dr. Lucas offered. “Please!” I replied, hearing the desperation in my own voice.
Dr. Lucas returned a minute later with a man who, now that I knew to look for it, must have been 6 or 7 months pregnant, and not simply obese. “Hi!” the man said as he entered. He extended his hand: “Charlie, 30 weeks tomorrow,” he said, clearly proud. “Dr. Lucas imagines you may have a question or two for me?” He and the doctor both chuckled a bit. Old news for them, apparently, but we were still bowled over, to the point that neither of us could come up with a question for a solid 30 seconds. “May I touch your belly?” I asked, finally, though I don’t know what I imagined I could learn from it. “Sure thing!” he replied, instantly lifting his stretched-out t-shirt. He was a hirsute man, apparently, and thin black hair covered the entirety of his torso, including his perfectly round, stretch-mark free baby bump. I touched, pushing in a bit. Perfectly firm, exactly the same as the few pregnant ladies’ bellies I’d had the privilege to touch in my life. I felt the blood start going to my dick, my fetish suddenly revealing itself to hold a new bi-sexual aspect. Whatever, I thought, having never considered myself 100% straight anyway.
Annie touched Charlie’s bare belly next, looking at it in awe. “How do you feel?” she asked timidly, apparently also not able to come up with any of the thousands of more enlightening questions that might rightfully be asked in this bizarre situation. “Awkward, but great!” Charlie said. “Honestly, the pregnancy books for women…well, all pregnancy books, for that matter…well, they’ve been perfect for me. Everything’s exactly on the same schedule, same side effects as though I were a woman carrying a baby. Went through morning sickness in my first trimester, frankly horny as hell through my second, now enjoying the experience but wanting my body back in the third. The only substantial difference is I didn’t go for the breasts, so no milk is coming in, and my chest has only grown slightly. Nipples definitely darkened, though. No escaping that, apparently.” Dr. Lucas must’ve the seen the confusion on our faces at “didn’t go for the breasts,” so he stepped in again. “With the right hormones,” he said, “we can get milk to come in, and Jarred could breastfeed, if that appeals. I’d say I’ve gotten about 50/50 decisions on this, with a lot of couples opting to bottle-feed rather than have even more radical bodily changes.” I almost interrupted him with my simple statement, “I want the breasts.” Annie, Dr. Lucas, and Charlie all laughed. “Remember, they’re for the baby!” Dr. Lucas kiddingly reprimanded. I wanted the full experience, I had instantaneously realized. Tits included.
I started the hormones immediately following the initial appointment with Dr. Lucas. It would take three months of therapy before we could safely put in the synthetic uterus (and assorted baby-making piping). It was…intense. Annie had been slightly jealous of my taking over the pregnancy she’d always imagined for herself, but some of my mood swings and unexpected bodily changes made her quickly grateful that it was me and not her. Especially since I found just about every change, even when objectively unpleasant, pretty damn sexy. The process of becoming pregnant was, unsurprisingly for someone with a pregnancy fetish, pretty fucking sexy from start to finish for me.
Unlike Charlie, I am not a hirsute man, so as soon as the bodily changes came from the hormones (emergence of breasts most notably), my torso could easily have passed for a woman’s. My face, too, seemed to take on a more feminine, almost softened aspect, and I found I couldn’t grow facial hair even if I’d wanted to. I only had to shave about once every 10 days, and even then it was just stubble that had become barely noticeable. For those few months, with the breasts being the only readily apparent difference between me and typical men, I frequently wore a tightly-wrapped piece of soft linen around my chest. I didn’t feel ready for the attention that I may well be in for once I had a baby bump along with the new tits, and my modest, A-cup rack (relatively small pre-milk, at least!) was easy enough to hide.
Around the house, though, Annie found my new parts more than a little intriguing, and I’d frequently roam the house wearing nothing but boxer shorts. She’d rub on my nipples, gently squeezing now and then, and I would get an erection the likes of which I had never experienced. It was a new pair of tits in our relationship that I could touch, see, and feel. Goddamn, the feelings! I had never had much sensitivity in my nipples, but I was now massively turned on by as little as a t-shirt lightly brushing against them. It was wholly new and very welcome, easily making up for the slight soreness of growing a female-esque rack over the course of a few weeks. Gripping a tit with one hand while masturbating furiously with the other became a very frequent habit, especially as Annie couldn’t quite keep up with how horny I’d become. It was the hormones to some extent, at least according to Dr. Lucas, but also just how novel it was to have my own pair of tits. And, of course, the impending pregnancy…
The 3-month intensive hormone therapy went by, and I went in for the truly major surgery of having a uterus inserted (and various pipes connected correctly, of courss). I wasn’t nervous before I went under anesthesia, but elated. I was really about to have my own womb, and every step of the process got me closer to a fantasy I had never had reason to even entertain. Recovery wasn’t the easiest in the world, especially as I had to refrain from too strenuous of physical activity (i.e. fucking & masturbating) in order to keep my stomach stitches from bursting. The scar was exactly where C-section scars usually are, though slightly larger, as a bit more of my insides had to be accessible for the piping hook-ups. They’d re-open the same wound when it was time to deliver the baby, which Dr. Lucas assured me would make the whole thing a little easier. Just the one incision to deal with sounded pretty good to me, especially compared to when my imagination had immediately gone to pushing a newborn out of my urethra. Placing my hands just under my navel afterwards, I couldn’t even feel the synthetic uterus under my skin. Scientific miracles were just piling up.
They did make another tiny incision a month after my first surgery, though, just below the C-section one, in order to implant the embryo. It was safe, at that point, as my body had successfully accepted the uterus, and all my physical functions had returned to normal (corrected for some hormonal feminization, of course). We knew Dr. Lucas had had success in combining our respective eggs and sperm we gave him just before starting the hormone therapy, and several embryos had been frozen, awaiting my readiness. I was ready at the expected point, about four months after our first appointment with Dr. Lucas, and the first attempt at implanting the embryo was a success.
I was fucking PREGNANT.
__________________________________
MONTH 1
Let's get the negative stuff out of the way: I'm tired as hell almost all the time, and the smell and/or sight of certain foods make me nauseous/sometimes vomit. I can hardly type the word "egg" without gagging, never mind seeing Annie cooking or eating them. I've been napping a lot due to the fatigue, though most of my naps have started involuntarily, which is not my ideal.
Apart from those relatively mild issues, though, things are pretty great. The most notable changes thus far, I'd say, are to my nipples and areolas. My nipples were getting sensitive before, but it's at a different level now. Sometimes it's even uncomfortable to play with them, though I've only really let that stop my activities once or twice. They've gotten a lot darker, too, from barely being distinguishable from the skin around them to a deeper red/pink (I'm a light-haired man, so I'm dealing in reds rather than browns). My areolas are only slightly lighter than my nips, and they've at least doubled in diameter (to two or three inches, I'd say). I'm still getting a kick out of having real tits to begin with, and these vibrant visual improvements are very, very welcome. I'm extremely attracted to them despite them being mine (technically: they still don't truly feel like a part of me, in a sorta fun way), and I hardly know what to do with my sexual energy revolving around them. Annie gave me a handjob the other day (easiest/quickest way to satisfy me much of the time), and I requested she rub my cum over my tits when I finished. She was game, and even thought it was hot. I was left slightly sexually confused. It was a completely new impulse for me, and I'm still kind of working through the novel horny feelings...
Generally, horny feelings abound. I find the plain fact of being pregnant incredibly erotic. Even the "negative" parts have a sexual upside: I got so worked up during one nauseous spell that I ended up jerking off kneeling in front of the toilet in between gagging fits, just because I could apply the term "morning sickness" to myself.
I'm pregnant. I, a man with a deep-seated, life-long pregnancy fetish, am pregnant. So every damn part of the experience is amazing, and most are highly exciting. It's way too early to worry about stretch marks (which I'm sure will get me off if I get them, anyway!), but I've begun moisturizing nonetheless. I've got baby oil, shea butter, coconut oil...all sorts of things in the rotation. I massage (or, if I'm lucky, Annie massages) the moisturizers into the area directly below my navel in particular, but I always end up coating more or less my entire torso. I must spend at least an hour a day rubbing and/or getting rubbed (not counting dick rubbing, of course... that'd add a few more hours daily!), and, again, I'm not even going to start showing for a few more months.
Ok, I need to go jerk off for the fourth (maybe 5th?) time today...
MONTH 2
This'll be my most complain-y post of my pregnancy, I hope (and expect - things are supposed to get a bit easier soon!). My damn legs ache for no reason, which, upon researching the matter, is totally typical two-months pregnant stuff. I'd never heard of this particular symptom, though, so the horny associations with pregnancy aren't clicking for me.
Much like this month's even more pronounced fatigue, it's hard to find the erotic element in my legs' discomfort. Additionally, I'd say I'm 100% into morning sickness territory now, with routine puking and inescapable smell/sight aversions to certain foods. When I'm actively puking, it's much more difficult to work up the boner and jerk it at the toilet. Even pregnancy can't make vomit erotic for me, which means, luckily, I will never find vomit erotic. Sorry, weird tangent.
The more I think, the more side effects come to mind, so I'll stop considering after just briefly mentioning my nipples. They're way too sensitive now, and I can barely touch them at all with masturbatory intent. It's frustrating, as tightly gripping my tits quickly became my jerk-off go-to. Honestly, though, I've barely felt up to jerking it more than once or twice a day for the past few weeks. Those are pre-pregnancy numbers, which is just depressing.
If not really erotic at the moment, my pregnancy remains utterly fascinating to me. I learned today that my uterus has already doubled in size, now approximating a tangerine. Even with it being synthetic in its way, I can't fucking believe this all is happening inside of me. I feel reverent toward my body, which is strange and great simultaneously. Huge, massive, towering respect for women repeatedly going through this. It's amazing, but way too difficult to be taken for granted, as seems to happen all too often.
Interesting but tough month; more excitement incoming!
MONTH 3
I'm FEELING pregnant!!! I realized a few days ago that it had stopped feeling as abstract as it had at the start of my pregnancy. I was way into the darkened nipples and premature moisturization, but the pregnancy was a bit theoretical feeling. I realized this the first morning I could feel a new firmness in my lower stomach, right where the uterus was placed. PREGNANCY!!! This is just straight-up pregnant stuff, not a side effect, but a sign of the real fucking thing itself. This is all really and truly happening.
In addition to the newly-firm belly I can't keep my goddamn hands off (and I can easily cum directly on!), my waist has most definitely thickened. I've always been pretty thin, so I'm really noticing this change, however minor it’s been thus far. I've taken to more sweatpants than jeans, as zippers and buttons quickly became unfriendly to me. I'm slightly worried about the clothing options going forward. No maternity sections for men, after all. I guess loose, oversized t-shirts will probably suffice to cover the bump, maybe just showing off a tiny bit of underbelly cleavage, particularly in public, for fellow pregnancy enthusiasts' and my own exhibitionist self's gratification. As long as my waist doesn't balloon to ridiculous sizes, I should be ok with loose bottoms pulled up to just below my drooping belly. I'm getting way ahead of myself with that "drooping" description, but I'm also getting way horny, so I'll keep that particular word in mind for later...
The waist, in addition to the firm uterus, feels like I'm just a teensy bit away from showing, which makes me pretty much want to explode with semen. That might be a bit of a gross explanation, but the anticipation makes me feel like it's going to be momentous, and momentously erotic. I've still been going out in public with my tits ~hidden (getting harder now, as they’re definitely growing). I'm waiting to make my publicly-engorged debut once I can show off a real bump.
It. Will. Be. Glorious. I imagine myself approaching every single person whose eyes linger on my midsection, grabbing their hands, shouting "Touch!" as I place their palms to my belly. Obviously exaggerated, but I can absolutely imagine striking up conversations with strangers. I guess that'll require more exposition than most female pregnancies, the story of which is near-universally "a guy came inside me." Maybe I should roughly prepare how I'll explain myself. As a sort of medically-experimental surrogate? However I go about it, there are bound to be follow-up questions, and probably a follow-up me-jerking-off-in-the-bathroom. I was always intensely excited considering accompanying a pregnant Annie in public, but I'm somehow even more turned on with it being me. I cannot fucking wait till I’m showing.
In more present matters, I've passed the 10-week mark, which means most of my baby's (“My baby”! Holy shit!) critical development is done. That calls for a huge sigh of relief from me! I haven't been stressed out thus far, really (horny is overwhelming most things), but this does make me feel pretty great and optimistic. I'll obviously still keep healthy and be very careful, but it's nice to know the highest stakes part of the pregnancy is over. This is usually the time in one's gestation when you start telling people you're pregnant, as the danger of miscarriage drops way down. I don't know how we're going to approach the "telling friends and family" part yet...but I'm still not showing, so I think we can put it aside for the moment.
Presently, morning sickness is lingering, but it's vastly better than last month, and very rarely leads to actual vomiting. I've also been getting winded extremely easily, which apparently has to do with increased blood volume due to my growing fetus.
At this point in a pregnancy, the books say, your uterus is supposed to gain a little distance from your bladder, making frequent urination a bit less of an issue. They must have placed my uterus a little differently in relation to my bladder, I think, as frequent urination is a symptom I did not experience. Frankly, I wish I had, because it's not so much disgusting (like the puke) as sort of sexily unwieldy (like my eventual, sure-to-be-exaggerated waddle).
With my thin frame, I wouldn't be surprised if I was showing within just a few weeks. Increased firmness and waist inches are great, but the more visible changes they directly lead to is mind-blowing to think about. Also, I've either become rather inured to the nipple sensitivity or it has lessened, as I'm back to a pretty furious sex drive (including much of the aforementioned cumming directly on my firm pre-bump!).
If the smaller changes have gotten me this worked up, I can hardly even imagine actually showing. I might not get to show off in public as much as I'd like, as I may just spend all of every single day laying naked in bed, reaching clumsily over my giant belly to grab and stroke myself to completion. Dear god am I excited...
MONTH 4
Before my usual horny ranting and raving, I realize I've hardly mentioned the wonderful Annie in all this! Overall, I'd say she's a bit disappointed to miss out on the pregnancy adventure she'd imagined for herself, but seriously grateful to me and relieved about not having to personally deal with the majority of the symptoms. She doesn't share my pregnancy fetish, but she's usually game for even slightly reasonable requests (again, rubbing my cum on my tits, etc.). I think she likes the changes to my body so far, as, for example, my thickening waist has given me something of an ass to speak of for the first time in my life. Also, she's bi-, so the tits are a huge draw, especially as they've been growing more noticeably and getting darker and darker at the nipples and areolas. I love when she sucks my nipples, and can't fucking wait for my milk to come in to spice up that particular activity...
My principle concern in relating to Annie sexually during my pregnancy is that she'll be put off or feel left out at how hot I'm finding myself. She has seemed a bit annoyed a few times when I've resorted to masturbation without even seeing if she wanted to get amorous, occasionally leaving her horny and unfulfilled. I can always go again, though, as I've told her.
I don't know if it's hormonal or just a result of my intense and constant horniness, but my refractory period seems to have shrunk considerably. I still can't really cum back-to-back (I need 7-10 minutes to be able to orgasm again, which I'm pretty sure is considerably reduced from my pre-pregnancy stats), but I'm horny instantly after I've cum. This allows for rubbing my cum into my belly without that post-orgasm disgust with "dirty" things that used to inevitably arrive. I'd love the idea of doing something fun with my ejaculate during masturbation, but once I did cum, I'd be grossed out by that kind of idea, and not go through with it. Not so, now! Instantly horny again, even if I have to wait 7-10 to head towards completion again.
I’m very happy to have discussed Annie and my refractory period on here, but I’m afraid I’ve severely buried the lede, because…
I’M SHOWING!!!!!!
It’s strange, because, at least since I noticed the abdominal firmness, I’ve been scrutinizing my profile daily, looking for the slightest hint. Then, suddenly, last Friday, I noticed it. Maybe I had to memorize the way I looked before in order to register the change? I don’t know. It seems weird that one day you can say you’re not showing (with ample investigation conducted), and the next you clearly are. As soon as I noticed it, I rushed elatedly (and topless) to Annie, of course, who spun me 90 degrees to one side, evaluated my profile, and said, “Yep, you’re showing!” Goddamn, does this feel amazing. It’s still only visible to the highly-trained eye, of course. Annie and I can tell, but I can’t imagine getting even a second glimpse from family and friends, never mind people who’ve never seen my skinny ass before.
And my ass must be glowing, too. I feel incredible. Fucking powerful, incredibly womanly in the best way, even hornier than before (so, lifetime high: sorry, 14-year-old me!). I feel like I’ve really embraced the femininity angle. I don’t feel even a little bit threatened by it as a man, maybe because my masculinity has never felt even close to as awesome as this does. Maybe one could feel defensive of their gender when the womanly takes control so fully, but I’m just fucking grateful to have this crazily extraordinary experience. In our semi-secrecy around the pregnancy and the fact that I’m within the first 100 or so pregnant men, the whole thing makes me feel like a pioneer. Hormones and a slight cum build-up may be talking here, but I really do feel like a fucking superhero. It’s just a slight mound protruding a centimeter or so from just under my navel, but it’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. And it will probably be topped tomorrow, the next day at the latest. Pregnancy fucking rules.
Just to reiterate a point I feel I’ve made a few times, but always bears repeating, and now a slight tweak: I can jizz on my own bump. And oh boy, do I take advantage of this! Annie is taken with my bump, too, but keeps calling it “cute,” and doesn’t seem to find it particularly sexy. It is legitimately “cute,” so I can’t really fault her. To me, though, it’s a concrete representation of what’s to come over the next 5 months or so, most or all of which I’m intensely excited about. Yes, it’s only just visible today, but if it changes overnight into something noticeable, I’m going to have a constantly evolving/improving physique. Energy levels feel like they’ve returned to normal, but also like they’re higher than they’ve ever been, because of how damned excited I am all the time (my jerk-off numbers are back to looking more than respectable…). I’m absolutely loving this journey, and the huge-bellied months I’ve primarily been obsessed with for my whole life have yet to arrive…
Symptom-wise, nausea seems to be gone completely (woo, second trimester!), and my appetite has not just returned to normal, but really ballooned…as I think I might. I love the fact that my body is growing so much, I feel like I might as well put a little meat on my bony frame in addition to the pregnancy-instigated engorgements. I’ve definitely continued growing in the waist (jeggings look a bit odd on a man, but damn are they comfortable) and tits (B-cup as of last week, and the linen-wrapping solution is no longer viable). I think I’ve noticed just a tiny bit of meat on my upper arms and thighs. It seems like the extra fat is going into parts of the body that are typical for women, I’d guess due to the hormones that have functionally turned me into one. It’s kind of a shame, because if I was noticeably gaining weight as a typical male, a lot would be going to my gut, which is exactly what I desperately crave from my body right now. I LOVE big, soft bellies on BBW women. That’s probably my favorite hyper-specific porn sweet spot, but it’s almost certainly not how I’m going to develop. Oh well. There’s a vast rainbow of incredible gravid physiques, and I remain thrilled that I’ll get to experience even one of them. Babies run big in both Annie and my families, too, so I’m expecting to get seriously large, bump-wise. With how skinny I am, I might just be in for the old “basketball in front, nothing from behind” model. Whatever shape it’s going to be, thus far this may be the most thoroughly moisturized bump in human history.
MONTH 5
Again, allow me to get some new symptom-related complaining out of the way before I rant about my horniness and surging maternal power. First of all, hot flashes?! Really? Strange that the primary symptom of menopause is also found during pregnancy; I guess the two must have some hormones in common, but this one really felt like it struck out of nowhere. I usually run pretty hot, so it doesn’t feel like a completely new sensation, but it is more intense, at least for a few minutes, than other instances of simply “being hot” tend to be for me. Like the sore legs a few months ago, I have no association with hot flashes and pregnancy, so it’s an annoying inconvenience that doesn’t get me hard …yet. Maybe I can form the erotic connection if it keeps happening…
I also have some skin irritation around my waist, where, despite copious moisturizing, the faint beginnings of stretch marks are starting to show. The battle with stretch marks is very, very much ingrained in my head as one of the many sexy inconveniences and losses of bodily autonomy that pregnant women go through. So, it’s sexy as all hell. My ideal pregnant form may be stretch mark free, if you demanded I make the call, but I really love visibly stretched-out bellies, too. Similarly expected, my ankles and feet are swelling - another classic symptom!!! These things that make me feel more pregnant, even if mildly to moderately annoying or uncomfortable, are huge, huge turn-ons. I don’t know exactly what thoughts allow one to masturbate to fine lines on the sides of his abdomen and the fact that his shoes don’t fit, but goddamn it if I haven’t done it (and will absolutely continue).
Last week was my 20th, putting me halfway through the pregnancy. What’s to come is certainly exciting (probably more so than what I’ve experienced thus far, even), but the fact that I know this experience is half-over makes me sad. When I have time to feel sad. Which is when I’m not overtaken with sexual energy. Which is next to never. Fleeting moments of sadness are pretty easy when sandwiched between fucking your wife and jerking off like a maniac, so I feel pretty lucky.
Speaking of fucking the wife, Annie has gotten A LOT more into my pregnant form. At this point, my belly protrudes into a rather flat surface, just sticking out an inch or two from where my belly’d usually rest. It goes smoothly from an inch or so under my tits to an inch or so above my pubic area, gently curving away from and back into my body. And it’s so very, very firm…I fucking love it! I have my hands on it just about all day, and the amount of lotions and such I’ve applied at this point could probably help several hundred needy, dry-skinned people. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about those people at the moment, though, because I’m very much showing, and my wife is very much into it. Annie usually loves doggy-style, which has become a little hard for me with the protruding abdomen, and also involves her facing away from me (i.e., not seeing the bump). She likes climbing on top of my cock, too, but that still doesn’t let her fully enjoy my contours. So, with more creative and acrobatic options pretty solidly off the table, we’ve been doing mostly missionary. Her hands rarely leave my belly as I pound her as hard as I can without crushing my bump. I usually cum inside her, and sometimes she takes some of the semen from her pussy and rubs it into my bump as I’m catching my breath post-orgasm (still easily winded!). With the amount of jerking off I’m doing and Annie frequently chipping in with a little semen rub, my own ejaculate may be the single most-used product on my belly. I should look up if it’s a moisturizer or not…
With the belly pretty solidly out there and the tits having become un-hideable, this month has seen the public debut of my condition. I was pretty nervous to go out at first, despite my exhibitionist fantasies about interactions with gawking strangers. I wore a very loose sweatshirt the first few times I went out visibly pregnant, which very easily hid my state, especially with my self-consciousness compelling me to constantly keep my hands in my pockets, pulling the sweatshirt away from my engorged stomach and tits, making it pretty impossible for anyone to see my actual shape. After a few trips nervously walking around in public like this, as if I were guilty of some sort of crime that needed to be hidden at all costs, I finally got up the nerve to say fuck it, and wore one of my pre-maternity collared t-shirts and jeggings on an excursion to our preferred grocery store. I definitely got some long, hard looks, but rather than seeming curious and amiable, people’s faces looked sort of freaked out, as if engaging with me was the last thing they would ever think to do. A toddler ran up and pointed at my stomach at one point, yelling to his mother “Baby! Baby!” as he did so. His mother quickly apologized to me, grabbed the kid, and dashed for another aisle. Whatever I am to these prying eyes, it’s apparently unnatural. A pregnant woman is probably what I look most like, but I still have enough masculinity in some of my non-engorged features to read as male (male clothing, as well), and this disconnect (understandably) freaks people out. I talk to Annie about possibly trying to pass as female, and I can see a glint of disappointment in her eyes immediately. “Fuck it,” I said without her saying a word back to me. Her eyes were right. The problem was theirs, not mine. I was something new, but not something freakish. I still feel as though I’m deserving of wonder and honor (and a little something sexy…), not disgust and panic. I’d persevere, and I’d eventually find strangers that wanted to rub my belly, damn it!
I did have a few people besides Annie rub my belly this month, though…because we announced our pregnancy to close family and a few friends (!!!), and even did the requisite visiting after such big news. Annie was on the phone with her parents for about an hour explaining exactly what she meant when she’d said “we’re pregnant,” and assuring them that everything was super healthy, and while “experimental” might be a slightly alarming word, whatever “experiment” you might call this was thus far a rousing success. Rather than gingerly tip-toeing my way into it (not to denigrate Annie’s methods; to each her own), I called my mother and said “I’m pregnant.” She immediately said, “Annie, you mean? You guys are pregnant.” I responded bluntly, “No, I’m the pregnant one. Showing and everything. Can we come over?” They lived about an hour away, and it was good to be able to get there just after breaking the news (and letting them digest it at least slightly) and reassure them that everything was as normal as the situation could possibly muster. Embarrassingly, in inviting my mother to touch my belly, I lifted waaaayyyy too much of my t-shirt, exposing my bra-less tits. I hadn’t had to lift my shirt or be careful about this with anyone prior to this, so my instinct to raise my shirt to a typical, socially acceptable male level kind of took over. I quickly covered my entire torso, and apologized. “Nice tits,” my dad quipped from his recliner, and we all laughed for a good long while. God bless that man! He was very happy for us, too.
Telling Annie’s best friend, Rachel, was my favorite, though. Rachel is herself 8 months pregnant with her first, and we thought it might be fun to surprise her with my bump. Annie called and said we wanted to be sure to see her as much as possible before the baby, to get in more of those precious pre-child friend moments, or some such. We knocked on her door, Annie immediately gestured toward Rachel’s huge, round, sundress-clad bump, and went in for a big hug. They embraced for a few seconds, but Rachel saw me over Annie’s shoulder, wearing just my t-shirt and jeggings. “What the fuck?!” was her timeless response. She then looked between my and Annie’s eyes a few times, Annie nodded enthusiastically at her, and she grabbed us both, pulling us in as close to her as her massive bump (and my more modest one!) would allow. It turned out that she’d actually heard about the male-impregnating experimental clinics during her time in nursing school. It was incredibly refreshing not to have to go into the nitty-gritty details, and just talk excitedly with someone about the pregnancy. We rubbed each other’s bellies copiously, and generally had the best bonding time I’d ever had with my wife’s bestie. That 8 month belly of hers was absolutely killer: I had to have Annie drive home so that I could jerk-off…repeatedly.
Anyway, I almost forgot the most exciting thing of the past month: BABY MOVEMENT!!! Man, do I wish I could record exactly what it feels like verbally. The closest comparison I have is being gassy, and feeling the gases move around in your abdomen. Other than that, I can’t think of any internal movements that are even marginally similar. Gas is hardly comparable either, really, largely due not to its feeling different, but to the different connotations of the two. Gas means your stomach is upset, which isn’t fun for most people. Baby movement means your fostering life within your womb, participating in, creating, and becoming one of nature’s miracles. I’ve looked truly pregnant for a little while now, but this is such a tangible change; it feels totally different. The reality of impending parenthood is weighing on me a bit, honestly. But that’s not what this journal is for. It’s for the pregnancy. The movements feel amazing and make me feel great, even when there’s a kick (I think?) to an internal organ. Annie LOVES feeling the movement, rubbing on my bare belly for hours on end waiting for the movement, and searching for visual signs of it, which I think won’t come until the baby’s a bit bigger, but I’m glad Annie is so into it and has something to look forward to! We talked about the feelings we got from the baby movement, and she agreed that it made a more concrete impression on her that we are about to be parents. Impending parenthood mentally put aside, I’ll continue focusing one day at a time on this amazing gestational experience.
MONTH 6
Third trimester, woo! The books generally say you spend your 1st sick and nervous, 2nd energetic and horny, and 3rd unwieldy and uncomfortable. I think I've roughly followed this, with horniness being constantly in play, if not consistently persistent, throughout all 3 trimesters. It seems like discomfort is supposed to supplant the ravenous sex drive, but that can hardly come to pass when your unwieldiness and discomfort turn you on to no end. I think it's going to be a beautiful final act...
Everything is amazing right now, including the tougher parts that seem to taint the pregnant experience for the less sexually-motivated expectant mother (or father!). My lower back and legs are sore nearly all the time due to the strain of carrying my ever-growing bump and seriously enlarging tits (more on that shortly...) Orgasms remain a pregnancy-safe painkiller, though, and I continue to have my share of those! I love the strained muscle feelings in my back and legs almost as much as I love staying off my feet as much as possible (Dr. Jacob's suggestion). I feel SO unwieldy when I keep still and supine for hours on end. Annie pampers me with food, belly rubs, hand-jobs, blow-jobs, and the occasional cowgirl-style fuck when she's in the mood.
I'm ALWAYS in the mood... still! I wish I could somehow know the volume of cum I've rubbed on my bump during my pregnancy. It's gotta be close to a gallon at this point, and with several months and a still expanding belly still to moisturize! Feeling helpless, laying down by doctor's suggestion makes me hot as hell, but so does my (already!) rather uncomfortable time standing and moving about. Every twinge of pain in my back or any part of my legs reminds me instantly of all the (sexy) weight I'm putting on, and how ungainly and out-of-my-control my body is. It feels like the process of gestation has taken over pretty much my whole body at this point, and I can hardly contain how ecstatic that makes me! My body, even though not originally intended for childbearing, knows exactly what to do, and I'm just along for the amazing, ever-shifting ride.
One body part I feel I've very recently lost most of my control over is my tits. Sure, I'd only had any tits to speak of since a few months before we conceived. But... wait for it... MY MILK HAS COME IN!!! Started to, anyway, with my breasts becoming seriously engorged, going up to a C-cup basically overnight. They feel absolutely amazing: tight, firm, round, and ever so heavy in my hands. Heavy enough to hang down and just slightly rest on top of my growing belly, a fertility goddess-type physiology that is only getting more pronounced and sexier. Annie likes to suck on them even more now that they're producing life-sustaining food. When we fuck in our modified-for-bump missionary position, I do my best to lean over and let her suck away while I'm inside of her. My belly is very much in the way of my leaning over, though, so she only gets to suckle for a few seconds before I have to straighten up my torso again. Entirely worth it, especially given that her sex drive is finally growing (not quite equal to mine, but my j/o numbers are up around 10/day, and she has other, non-sexual business filling most of her days!).
The expected pregnancy hormone-boosted hair has arrived, too! Ordinarily I keep my hair pretty short, but I had been growing it out so I could occasionally pass as just another pregnant lady if I felt like it. It's still fairly short by female standards, but it's more than long enough to show off its lustrous new sheen. A harmless, quirky hormonal bonus, making me slightly more beautiful than I already felt! And horny. Always, always horny.
My uterus is supposed to be about the size of a soccer ball at this point, though I'd say my bump is significantly bigger than that. It's rounded out substantially in the last few weeks, now having a sort of tear-drop shape, with the gentle curve under the tits remaining, but a little lower the bump now protrudes much farther and more ball-shaped, sharply curving back into my pubic region. I'm carrying a little low (based solely on my experience looking at pregnant ladies online), which makes me extra excited for the baby to actually drop, as that should be quite the low-hanging, uncomfortably heavy globe!
MONTH 7
Fatigue has settled back in, but the excitement I feel constantly from my engorged body keeps me from sleeping nearly as much as I did in my first trimester.
[side note: Writing something like "my first trimester" still excites and amazes the shit out of me, and I still can't quite believe it's all real. So much has changed in the last few months, it can be hard to hold on to how fucking incredible this never-could-have-imagined experience is. I remind myself frequently to be grateful, and I am as grateful for this opportunity as I've ever been about anything in my life.]
My belly continues to grow, of course. The growth has been mostly further out, rounder, and generally wider over the past few weeks. I thought I'd end up with the frequently seen "basketball belly" in front, and not reading as pregnant from behind. My bump has already outgrown my hips in diameter, though, becoming clearly visible protruding from both sides of my torso when viewed from behind. It's getting firmer, too, in part because the baby is taking up more and more of the space in my abdomen.
It's gotten significantly tighter in tiny bursts, as well; Braxton Hicks contractions have started! I was really looking forward to this, and it truly hasn't disappointed. It's not painful, exactly, just more of a torso-wide pressure. It would probably become painful if it lasted longer, but they rarely go on over a minute. Everything contracts, as the name implies, and my bump becomes harder than a basketball, all the unoccupied space in your belly giving way to a slightly more compact and seriously tighter bump. I wish they lasted longer, even if they did become painful. They're not even long enough to masturbate during! And believe me, I have tried. I've twice (so far) kept myself erect for significant periods of time, waiting for the Braxton Hicks to hit before I really go for the orgasm. One hand on my ridiculously hard and ridiculously sexy belly, one furiously pumping my cock... I haven't been quite fast enough, and the contractions still throw me for a bit of a loop with their novelty and intensity. The pursuit of this particular orgasm will continue, that's for damn sure.
The baby's full-on kicking now, too. The feeling inside me is amazing (and, again, pretty much indescribable... sorry...)! And, luckily for Annie especially, the motion is frequently quite noticeable on my bare bump. I lay nude in bed for hours, with Annie pressing on different areas of my belly to try to provoke a response. I'm not sure she's more successful than random chance would be, but my bump's getting more attention, and no variant of that is bad from my point of view. The kicking does occasionally keep me up at night, which tends to frustrate me only for as long as it takes me to remember to take the opportunity to jerk-off (or, very little annoyed time at all!).
All the aches, pains, awkwardness, and unwieldiness I've mentioned in past months are still present, and have grown in intensity as my bump has grown in size. Not too surprising, as I never stop being pregnant to give my legs a break, but rather continue to get more and more pregnant! Of course the symptoms worsen. Aaaaaand become even more sexy. Everything tires me, and, therefore, everything turns me on. I was very much looking forward to the awkwardness of the 3rd trimester, though the pending discomfort did get me a bit nervous. I'm certainly not out of it yet (and it'll get "worse" going forward), but I've found myself up to the challenge thus far, still feeling much more sexual desire than frustration with my hijacked body. It may be a bit masochistic, which is a mode I've never really explored before, but my horniness is indeed keeping pace with my discomfort.
Speaking of ever-growing horniness, I've recently been cruising our local mall, hoping for some kind of interaction with a stranger or strangers. I discussed my endeavor first with Annie, of course, and the ground rules we put down basically consisted of "no penetrative sex." She truly wouldn't mind (I made sure about 40 times) if I did any other activities with unknown third parties in order to help sate my pregnant appetites. I acclimate myself to the mall's goings-on with my hair down, definitely able to pass for a somewhat masculinely-dressed, run-of-the-mill pregnant lady. Once I'm a bit more comfortable, I sort of tuck the hanging hair into a baseball cap, and must appear as either a pregnant-looking man, or possibly a pregnant lesbian. I wasn't delusional enough to think someone would see me like this and think, “Oh, pregnant men exist now. Cool!" I did know I had the potential to draw someone in, though, because I would've been majorly turned on by a pregnant man myself (and am turned on by own pregnancy, as you’re well aware).
Thursday, I walked the mall's length three times with my baseball cap on, garnering my share of awkward stares from strangers. No one was looking at me with the interest/desire I was looking for. Eventually, I bought a bottle of water and took a seat in the food court off to the side, as the confused looks I was collecting were starting to get to me a bit. I'm very much a pregnant exhibitionist, sure, but I apparently really needed some positive attention for it to feel all right. Suddenly, someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around, and a twenty-something, well-dressed man asked bluntly, "So you're into mpreg?" I had encountered mpreg (male pregnancy, frequently in a fantastical or unrealistic setting) plenty in my internet time with my pregnancy fetish, and I was very glad I knew what he was talking about. "You have no idea," I responded as I began to tell him my story.
"Let's go to the bathroom," he said once he understood the whole deal, and had spent several minutes gently caressing my bump under the table. We found a handicap bathroom in the nearest department store, made sure no one would see us, and entered together, locking the door behind us. "Take off your clothes," he commanded. "Keep the bra, I can't stand tits." I oblige him, and seat my naked self on the toilet. He got nude as well, and came over to me with his cock already half- erect. Mine was very much fully erect, but not currently visible below my seriously large belly. He stood next to me, bending over slightly to vigorously rub my belly. I timidly took his dick in my hand, beginning to pump slowly: the first HJ I’ve ever given! I liked the belly rub, and I liked the dick in my hand. Maybe I'm bi-, after all! After pumping his dick a few dozen times, I built up the nerve to take him in my mouth. I blew him for only about a minute (beginner's luck??) before I felt him start to spasm in orgasm. I quickly took his cock out of my mouth, jerking the cum straight onto my belly as he continued to rub, coating my entire bump in his cum. That was pretty much it; we re-clothed, carefully exited the bathroom separately, and never saw each other again. I'd never been with a man before. It was lovely, honestly. Even without names.
MONTH 8
A symptom got less intense! I didn't anticipate that on any fronts. Turns out the baby can't fully somersault in my womb, as she's (yes, we’re having a girl!) gotten too big to move around that much in the limited space of my abdominal cavity. The movement is more frequent than ever, but kicks rarely land painfully, and Annie's having to stare at my bump even harder to catch it moving at all.
The baby is currently growing at a rate of about an ounce a day, and I would not be surprised if I was getting close to a pound a day. My face has filled out a bit, my arms and legs are noticeably thicker, my ass is "phenomenal" (-Annie), and my bump has just a touch of the BBW softness I love so much, though it was visibly tightening and looking leaner as it became more and more jam-packed with baby. In short, I look fucking awesome, and I know it. I love every damn bit of my fully engorged body.
Oh, did I not mention my tits and belly? The tits are getting seriously squashed in my C-cup bras, and milk is leaking out of them near-constantly. It's sort of a nuisance and requires some clothing planning (for instance, really can't wear a white shirt without a serious bra), but I'm totally into it, as is Annie. I'll lay topless on the bed, and she'll gently touch my nipples to coax out a few drops of milk at a time. This almost inevitably leads to fucking after just a few minutes, as I am somehow hornier than I've yet been, and the slightest sensual provocation puts me in need-to-fuck mode. Our sex positions have gotten even more limited, though I'll get into that in a bit. My sleeping positions are failing me, too, at this point of massive belly. It's massive enough for me to have a pronounced waddle (which I absolutely exaggerate for my own pleasure), which turns even more heads in public, and all of this turns me on ecstatically. I'm horny enough that my ever-increasing fatigue barely puts me to sleep at all. Can't jerk it unless you’re awake, after all!
Bump-wise... IT DROPPED!!! It's bittersweet, as it signals semi-imminent birth. As I'm not having a traditional vaginal delivery (obviously), I wasn't sure the bump would ever drop. It must be a hormonal thing, though, because there it is, bearing down on my pelvic floor. It feels as if it's dragging me down, almost, stretching inevitably towards my (swollen) feet. Light red stretch marks now cover the front, furthest sticking-out part of my seriously engorged belly. There's room between my tits and the top of my belly, now, and despite the tit growth, my breasts no longer rest on my bump (which makes me a bit sad).
Standing so that the back of our couch supported my belly mixed with the fact that my belly was resting against my dick half the time gave me a new idea: a masturbatory bumpjob. If I get an erection and carefully place it between the back of the couch and my gravid midsection, I can thrust against the weight of my belly. I've done it 3 or 4 times (today, ha ha), and only made a cum-coated mess of the couch on my first, not-terribly-well-thought-out session. The next time, I kept my dick in my pants throughout, and made a mess of them, naturally. I guess I'm a bit too horny to think straight sometimes: is this pregnancy brain? It's all fantastic, especially since I was pretty disappointed about not getting bumpjobs from my wife (very minor compared with conception business, but it was a bit of a letdown anyway). This new masturbation trick mixed with the constant stream of cum coating my bump every day made up for some of what I may have missed out on from not experiencing a female pregnancy with my wife. Hopefully she finds some solace in what she gets to experience second-hand, too. I need to ask about that more directly…
Speaking of Annie, it may be tough for us to find a comfortable fucking position, but when we work at it, we can still have a whole lot of fun. Saturday morning, I woke up laying on my side with my dick in her hand, just as she started to stroke my belly and cock at the same time. I fucking love this combination: if I could only choose one thing to do for the rest of my pregnancy, sexual or otherwise, it'd be Annie stroking my best parts with both hands. I came after about 2 minutes (I REALLY like this activity), and she rolled me into my back and began gently rubbing my semen into my entire belly, even up to my tits a little bit.
Touching my tits seemed to remind her of how much she enjoyed them, as she took my glistening-with-cum nipples into her mouth one after the other, suckling gently so as not to trigger unpleasant sensitivities. After the second tit, she put her mouth above my belly and let my own milk drip onto my belly. Then, she started the process of very thoroughly licking it off, starting at the top of my belly and making her way down, paying special attention to my new outie belly button. This must have taken 7-10 minutes (my pregnant refractory period, if you've forgotten), because as she finished licking the bottom of my bump, she moved onto my dick, which was very much ready for another go-round.
She blew me for a minute or two, then I tapped her head so she'd stop, and lugged myself out of bed. I pulled her over to me so that her pussy was flush with the edge of the bed. I could just about enter her from this position, but I made it a lot easier for myself by heaving my belly onto her pubic region, taking the weight off me and removing our primary obstacle. Also, she'd tell me later, further driving her wild for my cock, and even stimulating her clitoris a bit. I got it in her much more easily than usual (love resting that bump wherever I can!) and slowly started the in-and-out motion. She moaned and sat up just enough to be able to take my enormous gut in both her hands, which she knew would drive me wild... and it did, as my cumming two minutes later confirmed! I kneeled in front of her to eat her out after cumming in her (one of her modest sexual kinks), then made out with her passionately with my mouth (and soon hers) filled with cum. She spit cum and saliva into her hand once we unlocked mouths, and rubbed it into my belly tenderly. "Well, that felt like we went full circle somehow, you know? The cum, the bump, my pussy, your cock, all connected and combined in this one tryst. Amazing!" Amazing, indeed. I love my wife.
MONTH 9
It's a real struggle to reach my dick in order to jerk it, but I love every second of trying to reach around my truly massive bump to make contact. Annie's really stepped up, jerking and blowing when I'm too exhausted to reach myself but too horny to abstain from cumming. My bumpjob-with-assistance-from-the-couch trick still works, though it now really exhausts the shit out of me, as most any task or movement of any kind does.
I'm nearing the end of my journey! I hit 39 weeks two days ago, and I'm going in for my C-section tomorrow: being full-term, healthy, and about to give birth lets me breathe a real sigh of relief now that everything's gone so smoothly. I'm super excited to meet our daughter, of course, but I feel like I'm already starting to mourn the loss of this truly transcendent, fully engorged body. My uterus is supposed to be the size of a small pumpkin at this point, so I'm guessing my belly must be filled with many additional mysterious objects, as "small pumpkin" doesn't even come close to covering the size of this epic bump.
To put it concisely, I no longer see the need to exaggerate my waddle. The belly is maybe mid-sized beach ball comparable in size, if not even in the same universe weight-wise. I'd kill for a hollow beach ball gut at the moment, frankly. This massive, unbelievably dense and weighty belly of mine is unwieldy to an almost aggressive degree, its discomfort outgrowing my horniness just in the last week or so. I had a great, horny-ass run of it, that's for sure! I'm down to cummimg a mere two or three times a day, and always with Annie's assistance. I know this is still pretty damn good, but there were some breathtaking days during this pregnancy where I'd easily average two orgasms per hour.
The skin barely containing my bump is absolutely taut, completely smooth to the touch and rather intensely firm. My occasional contractions are no longer Braxton Hicks, but the real kind, indicating I'm closing in on my time (and that my C-section was appropriately scheduled). The light red stretch marks that had been localized to the most front-facing section of my belly have spread and become an angrier, brighter shade of red in some places. Still sexy, I'd say, and battle scars I will wear proudly for as long as they persist.
Annie suggested we fuck at least once today, before the baby arrives tomorrow and halts sexual activity for a nervous-making amount of time. I'm too tired, though, so she blew me, then I rather lazily rubbed on her clit. Both nominally satisfied, I think that officially and anticlimactically ends our pre-baby sex life together. All I really want to do for the rest of today, and probably tomorrow while waiting for the surgery, is stare at my naked, gravid form in my full-length mirror, before it all changes back.
I can't get enough of this form, its constantly shifting shapes and sizes, its wonderfully exaggerated curves, everything about it. I can't see my dick in the mirror, and I don't think I have for the past few months, unless I lift up my belly with both hands (it's fucking heavy!) in order to briefly expose my genitalia. My belly has continued to grow in every direction I can imagine, just as my tits have gotten heavier and lower-hanging as they prepare to nourish a human life (once my womb finishes with it, of course). With the growth of both, the belly and tits are just slightly touching each other again, and I am a very happy fertility goddess.
EPILOGUE
In our brief meeting before the C-section, Dr. Lucas told us they remove the synthetic uterus while your abdominal cavity is open for the delivery.
"Can you not?" I ask hopefully.
"Well, we really don't know if there are any issues with keeping it in long-term, because..."
"Don't worry about long-term," I interrupted the doctor. "I'm doing another round as soon as you can get another embryo in me!"