Always wanted a story with an older preggo nice work!

Amazing read. I love the pacing. You have a gift!

"I'm having twins," Margaret mumbled, an air of finality and dread in her voice.

"I'm sure you're not, Mom." Daniel said. He sat on one side of her in the waiting room, while Emily sat on the other. Margaret had invited them along so they could see the ultrasound, and she had confided in them about her dream. Well, not the part that involved her kissing Daniel, or Daniel coaching her through labor like he was her husband. But the feeling that she had twins in her belly was hard to shake, especially with the growth and side effects she was experiencing.

"It's twins," Margaret repeated, shaking her head. She looked pale. As she waited for her name to be called she was as nervous as she would have been taking an exam. Her hands fidgeted with the fabric of her top. When she was sitting and wearing loose clothing, like she was today, you couldn't make out her little bump. But every other woman in the waiting room was pregnant, and Margaret felt their eyes on her. What was she doing here? She had to be the oldest patient by two decades.

As they were called into the examination room, Margaret took a deep breath and followed the nurse, with Emily and Daniel close behind. The doctor greeted them warmly. "This must be Mom and Dad," he said before taking her vitals. When he asked Margaret how she was feeling she just groaned. She explained how sure she was that it wasn't just one baby. The severe nausea, the insomnia, the exhaustion, none of it had happened during her first pregnancy. Not to mention her belly, already visibly rounding at the seven week mark. With some embarrassment in front of her son she also described the intense pain and swelling in her breasts.

The doctor shrugged off her concerns. "With your age, it's just going to be difficult. That's a fact. This is probably a lot of bloating. Let's have a look."

Margaret felt weirdly exposed as she laid back on the exam table and pulled up her top. It felt intimate, having her son and daughter in law see her like this, but she reminded herself this was only the tip of the iceberg. Her body would be poked and prodded and examined the whole pregnancy, put on display. Especially for Daniel and Emily. Still, she couldn't help but think of her dream. Daniel holding her hand in the delivery room.

"You weren't kidding," the doctor laughed, seeing Margaret's clearly pregnant belly. Then he caught himself. "Nothing to worry about. Second pregnancies do show earlier."

Daniel looked intently as the doctor prepared Margaret for the ultrasound. It was strange enough seeing his mom's little potbelly under a t-shirt. But now it was out under bright lights. It felt like something he shouldn't see. His mom's skin was pale. Her soft tummy had developed a noticeable bulge. He saw old silver stretch marks and knew they were from when he had been the one in that belly.

Margaret was holding her breath. The doctor told her to relax. Daniel held his hand out for her but she didn't take it, thinking of her dream. Instead, he took Emily's hand. She was nervous too, and excited. This would be the first time they saw the baby. The doctor moved the ultrasound wand over the gel on Margaret's belly. Emily and Daniel looked on, their eyes fixed on the screen, eagerly waiting for a glimpse of their baby. Margaret held her breath, her eyes wide with anticipation.

The image appeared on the screen. Just a bunch of gray blobs. The doctor moved the probe around. "There's your baby, Mom and Dad. And there's the heart." Emily squeezed Daniel's hand. He felt strange. His baby was growing inside his mother. The doctor was saying something about the baby growing right on schedule, all normal, then he stopped.

"Margaret, you tell me if you have any dreams about lottery numbers." He pointed to the screen. "Two sacs. You were right."

"Oh shit," Margaret said. It was rare for her to swear.

Emily gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise. Daniel's eyes widened, and he stared at the screen in awe. Seeing the two little blobs in his mother's womb was overwhelming. His first reaction was guilt. He should never have allowed this to happen. He knew it was a bad idea.

Margaret had a hand over her face. She felt ill. "Oh, I can't do this. I can't do this."

Daniel was in shocked silence. Emily spoke up. "Yes you can, Margaret. You're so strong."

"I can't do eight more months." Margaret was laughing nervously. Daniel had never seen her like this, so vulnerable and afraid. She had always been the rock in his life.

The doctor explained the details of Margaret's pregnancy, including the need for closer monitoring and increased precautions due to carrying twins. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Twins at your age is not going to be a walk in the park. But your numbers are good. The babies are coming along right on schedule."

When the appointment came to an end, the doctor congratulated Margaret on her pregnancy and assured her that with proper care, she would do well in carrying and delivering the twins. Emily and Daniel offered their support and reassurance, but Margaret couldn't shake the unease swirling within her. She held her little belly with a mix of protectiveness and apprehension. She had to keep these babies safe but she also worried about what they would do to her. Her due date had been pushed up three weeks. That still meant thirty more weeks of growing and aching and puking and worry. It was a dreadful responsibility.

Everyone kept a brave face on the drive home, like this was solely exciting news. Emily talked about how she and Daniel had always imagined having two kids, and now they would get them both at once. They speculated about the genders, with Margaret reminding them that her dream about two girls had been proven half right so far. Emily thanked Margaret profusely, again and again, while Daniel stayed more quiet, lost in his thoughts. Margaret wondered how they would talk once they had dropped her at home. They would be afraid for her. They would worry she couldn't do it. They would worry about their babies. The whole time Margaret was very aware of the sore, swollen knot of her uterus, growing by the second, impossible to forget.

One of the reasons Margaret had been willing to volunteer herself as her son's surrogate was that her first pregnancy had been relatively easy, and she recalled it as a wonderful time in her life. She had lost her husband Alan too young, and those months leading up to Daniel's birth were precious memories nearly thirty years later. Margaret and Alan were giddy newlyweds, barely able to believe their luck in finding each other. They had known each other less than a year when they got engaged, they were so sure of their connection. And Margaret got pregnant, very much on purpose, just weeks after their wedding. It was the most romantic time of her life.

A few weeks after the appointment that confirmed her twin pregnancy Margaret laid in bed, flipping through the pages of her old photo album. The faded pictures brought back memories of a time long ago - a time filled with joy, love, and pleasure. She traced her fingers over the photographs, her mind wandering back. Back to a time when she and Alan were embarking on their too short journey as husband and wife. They were young and in love, eager to start a family together. Margaret remembered how preoccupied she had been with that thought on her wedding day. How she wanted nothing more than for the party to be over so she could be alone with Alan and tell him it was time to make a baby.

Before her wedding night, Margaret had never had sex without a condom. She had never trusted a man enough. But she loved Alan without reservation. She wanted to give him children. She wanted to take him without hesitation or limits. She shook with excitement as she laid in bed naked in front of him, watching him remove his underwear and climb on top of her. His big powerful body treated hers with the utmost care and delicacy. They had had sex before, but this was different. When he gently pushed his way inside her, with no barrier between them, Margaret screamed.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Alan asked, freezing.

Margaret looked up at him, blushing and embarrassed. "I came."

Three decades later, she would remember the way Alan smiled at that and get turned on.

Margaret told him he didn't have to be delicate. She was his now. He could take her any way he wanted, whenever he wanted. She wanted to please him. She wanted to give him child after child. More moments from that wedding night fuck, and the many others that came after, were also indelible memories. The way Alan's body pounded hers until she was sore. The way she would watch herself in the mirror on their closet door. The animal roar he made when he came in her for the first time. The dizzying, wonderful feeling of Alan's seed shooting inside her. Margaret would lay awake as her new husband snored, imagining that she could feel his sperm swimming up into her womb. She prayed they would do their job. And when they woke up they would do it all over again.

Her pregnancy had been smooth sailing, filled with the bliss of anticipation. She had cherished every moment of carrying their baby, feeling the tiny kicks and hiccups, watching her belly grow, counting the days. Alan was been her rock throughout the pregnancy, doting on her and showering her with love and care. Her family warned her that she didn't know him well enough to marry him. Any man could fake being charming and loving for a while, but once the knot was tied he would show his true colors. Margaret felt so smug as she carried his child, because every day he treated her even better, and she loved him a little more. He took her on dates every week, he told her she was beautiful every day, he did all the preparation to show he would be a loving and attentive father. And best of all the powerful, incredible lovemaking continued into her pregnancy. Alan didn't have the squeamishness other men seemed to have about a pregnant woman. He was as enthusiastic about getting her clothes off when she had a big belly as he was the very first time. Maybe even more so. Even outside of the bedroom they couldn't keep their hands off each other. They belonged to each other now, forever. There was no way to be closer to someone than to make a baby with them. The baby in Margaret's belly was the manifestation of their love.

As she turned the pages of the photo album, Margaret's heart swelled with nostalgia, but there was something else too. She saw pictures of herself with a rounded belly, smiling radiantly, and Alan beside her, his eyes filled with love and adoration. They had taken maternity photos, captured moments of laughter and love, and made plans for the future they wouldn't get to have. And they had fucked passionately, day after day. Margaret only had to look at Alan's eyes in the pictures to remember the passion he had for her. Now, the pregnant 52-year-old realized her panties were damp. She was turned on.

It felt like she had gotten over the first trimester hump. Her belly continued to swell at an alarming rate with the twins inside, but the aches and pains and exhaustion and nausea were fading. Margaret felt good. And her sex drive had decided to reintroduce itself, stronger than it had been in years and years, since before she went through menopause. Maybe since Alan had been alive. Margaret had never felt the need to find another man after his death, and she had never gone on so much as a date. She figured she would just never have sex again, and without Alan she didn't want it much. But now her body was craving it, and she was all alone.

She was too self conscious to masturbate. She felt old. The growing bulge in her belly made her feel goofy. And the fact that the babies belonged to her son and his wife made it feel inappropriate. But when Margaret fell asleep, the photo album still in bed beside her, she fell into another vivid dream.

She dreamt she was in her twenties again, and she was just weeks into her first pregnancy. The room was a blend between her current bedroom and the one she'd shared with Alan in their old home. The photo album was still there somehow and Alan put it away. Then he used his big strong hands to remove Margaret's panties.

"We already made the baby," she said, laughing and holding her stomach.

"I know. I still want to."

"You aren't afraid you're going to hurt it?"

"No. Spread your legs."

Margaret whined and groaned as her husband entered her. She gazed up at him as he thrusted, his eyes sometimes closed in concentration and sometimes staring right back at her. Her subconscious perfectly brought back the smell of his sweat and the ecstatic groan he made each time he pushed into her. He and Margaret had tried many positions, but laying back and letting him take her was still her favorite. She let herself be overpowered by his big strong body, completely at his disposal. But when Alan asked her to turn over she didn't hesitate.

She got onto her hands and knees and smiled as she waited for him to enter her again. She looked up into the closet door mirror to watch him, and instead of Alan it was Daniel. Her son. He took his father's place behind her and pushed his cock into her pussy as if it was the most normal thing in the world. In the dream Margaret wasn't surprised either. She just groaned and pushed her ass back and made eye contact with Daniel's reflection. She could see her belly hanging down between her legs. Was the baby inside her Daniel? Was it his twins? It didn't make sense. At one moment Margaret's face was old and lined and in another it was young again. Daniel spoke and grunted with his father's voice, then his own.

"Mom, are you okay? I know this must be hard on your back." He said, tenderly rubbing her lower back. And it was hard. Margaret's stomach seemed to be growing by the moment, heavier and fuller, her skin stretching, her back aching. She felt kicks inside. But she couldn't stop him.

"I'm okay. Please keep going, I'm close."

And then she was screaming as Daniel pounded her, filling her, shaking the bed. She watched her own tits flop and bounce, bigger than they had ever been. The pressure was building inside her, edging her closer and closer as her breath got fast and sweat dripped down her forehead, until she couldn't take it anymore...

Margaret woke up screaming. She was cumming. Harder than she'd cum in years. She didn't think she'd ever cum from a dream before. But by the time she finished wailing and squirming around the sheets were soaked and she was out of breath.

It took a second for her to recover and place herself back in reality. Alan had been gone for decades, and nobody had fucked her since he had. Margaret was 52, and she was nearing the end of her first trimester in her second pregnancy. She was carrying her son's twins. And she thought she had a perfectly normal relationship with her son. The high of the incredible orgasm wore off and Margaret felt sick. Why had she dreamed of such filth? What were her hormones doing to her? She stumbled out of bed and retched into the toilet, realizing that she'd dreamt of having sex with her own son and it had given her a mind blowing orgasm that she was still twitching from. She groaned and sat down on the cold tile floor, willing herself to feel normal again.

Incredible. Love the pace the story is going. Looking forward to Margaret's pregnancy progressing.

"Was there anything else, Margaret?" The doctor asked as he wrapped up her 12 week appointment. It was almost the end of November and the 52-year-old was out of her first trimester and looking farther along than that. Unless she made a specific effort to hide it, like she was still doing at work, she looked obviously pregnant. Not bloated, not chubby, five or six months pregnant. 

Margaret hesitated and blushed. Her doctor could tell there was something on her mind. This had been a big appointment. Margaret had an envelope with the twins' genders inside, and now that her first trimester was over it looked like her unlikely pregnancy would be viable and make it to term. Her intense fatigue and nausea had subsided and now her biggest complaint was the pain and itching of her quickly growing belly. Except for the thing she hadn't told the doctor about.

"You know you can tell me anything. I've seen it all." He laughed. "Well, maybe not a 52-year-old woman pregnant with twins, but..."

"It's my sex drive." Margaret said, blushing and looking down at her belly, still visible under a loose dress. "I feel totally out of control. I haven't felt like this since..."

She thought back. Those early months of marriage, when she and Alan had fucked passionately nearly every day, trying to make a baby and then celebrating making a baby. She had been in her 20s. That had been the horniest time in her life. And now, just two seconds of thinking of her late husband touching her was making her wet.

The doctor smiled and repeated a phrase he'd used a hundred times to assure Margaret during her new unusual pregnancy. "It's totally normal, Margaret." 

It was anything but normal. Margaret was nearing 53 years old. She had experienced weeks of debilitating pregnancy symptoms that left her feeling weak, frail, and like she might not be able to complete this pregnancy. She was three months pregnant with twins, her son and daughter in law's twins. She hadn't had sex since she lost her husband decades ago, and hadn't much wanted to anyway. There was no romance in Margaret's life, nothing sexy. But all of a sudden she wanted to be fucked more than anything in the world. And the worst part was, her dreams about fucking her son were continuing.

She had several sex dreams every week. Sometimes the man in them was her late husband Alan. But sometimes it was their son Daniel, and once it had been both of them. Margaret dreamt of Daniel pinning her down and taking her in bed. She dreamt of Daniel pulling up her dress in the kitchen and entering her from behind. She dreamt of him making tender slow love to her and fucking her so roughly he left bruises. It was bad enough that she felt uncomfortable every time she saw her son, and she thought he had started to notice. 

That was what she couldn't ask her doctor about. As she sat on the exam table he patiently explained how her changing hormones were the likely culprit for her increased sex drive, that plenty of women experienced it, and that so far there was no risk with her pregnancy that would prevent her from sexual activity. He knew full well Margaret was a widow, and indirectly suggested masturbating would be a good outlet if she felt frustrated. As if Margaret wasn't waking up every morning (and sometimes during the night) with her hand between her legs, feeling sick to her stomach as she tried to banish the gross incest dreams by getting herself off. She hadn't masturbated since going through menopause. But now she couldn't stop, and it wasn't helping to rid her of her demons.

Her post-dream ritual had spilled over into the day. At work Margaret wore billowing, frumpy clothes as she taught, hiding that impossibly fast growing bump as best she could. It helped that nobody would suspect the widowed gray haired woman in her 50's to be pregnant, even after her weeks of sickness. But her sensitive body was starting to betray her. She had spent weeks with sore, painful boobs, and now the sensation of anything against her nipples sent a jolt straight to her crotch. Putting a bra on in the morning turned her on. Adjusting her clothes turned her on. The pressure of the bra against her swelling, embarrassingly large breasts turned her on. She had spent more than one precious lunch break hiding out in the bathroom rubbing one out and feeling disgusted with herself. When she came home from work the first thing she needed to do after peeing was take all her clothes off, get under the sheets, and try to relieve herself. She came again and again. She rolled around in bed, she soaked her sheets, she made sounds that scared her. She kept going until her bedroom stank of pussy. Once she came just from playing with her nipples, and she had just meant to examine how big and dark they were getting. But it didn't work. The more she played with herself, the hornier she got. And the image that made her cum the hardest, despite her attempts to avoid that evil, was her beloved only son.

She couldn't ask her doctor if there was some way carrying her son's babies was making her body want him, some sort of genetic thing. She had definitely desired her husband more than ever once she knew he had put a baby in her. What she could ask was: 

"What about... um, toys? Are those safe?"

Margaret certainly hoped so. When it had become clear that her fingers weren't doing the trick, she had overcome her shame and done some online shopping. She had never used any sort of sex toy in her five decades. First she got a pink rubber dildo, that looked so goofy that she couldn't bring herself to use it until she couldn't take the hormonal pressure anymore. It was big, and it felt good to push it inside herself. Her pussy had also become quite sensitive, and she tried to pretend the ridiculous piece of rubber was her husband's cock, focusing hard to not imagine her son's instead. But, even as sensitive as she was, she usually couldn't cum unless she played with her clit.

So she had done more research, late at night, carefully deleting her search history even though nobody else used her computer. She spent days reading reviews like she was buying a new car or something, then finally dropped far too much money on the vibrator everyone seemed to recommend for very high sex drives.

Thank God the toys always arrived in discreet plain boxes. The one the vibrator came in was enormous and heavy. When she closed her blinds and opened the package she laughed. There had to have been a mistake. The thing was as big as her forearm, and when she powered it on it felt like it would shake the whole house. It was as loud as a jackhammer. Touching her most sensitive parts with that would destroy them, wouldn't it? Like the dildo before it, it sat in the bottom drawer of her bedside table until she woke up from a dream so vivid and intense that she had to try something new.

Averting her eyes, Margaret placed the head of the vibrator between her legs and turned it on its lowest setting. 

She came instantly. A gasping, screaming, full-body orgasm she'd had no time to prepare for. The image of her son using the vibrator on her appeared unbidden in her mind as she threw her head back. The earthquake like buzzing was still going when her orgasm finished. It was too much. She fumbled to turn it off and she realized she was already cumming again. Over the next ten minutes, the 52-year-old pregnant woman came twice more, until she was sore and all the fluid had been drained from her body and the filth her mind was conjuring disturbed her too much. She finally got the thing turned off and laid there in bed panting, covering her face, her crotch throbbing and aching. She tried to will away the mental images of Daniel undressing her and touching her between the legs the way his father once had and playing with her enormous sensitive breasts.

It was just getting worse.

Margaret hosted a small Thanksgiving at her home with her son and his wife, who insisted on doing all the cooking as Margaret's belly was already starting to weigh her down. She felt like a stuffed turkey herself. Margaret stayed as prim and polite as she could. She told her son and daughter in law that when Thanksgiving break ended she would tell her coworkers about her pregnancy. She had planned to at least wait until the new year, but soon there would be no hiding that twin-filled tummy. And then she delivered the big news. She handed Emily the envelope, and when she opened it to find that Margaret had a boy and a girl in her belly, one of each just the way Emily had always wanted, she burst into tears. Then Margaret was crying too, and so was Daniel. Her dream had been wrong but this was even better.

Daniel hugged his wife first, and Margaret was disgusted with herself that her reaction was to be jealous. When Daniel gingerly hugged her, careful of her growing belly, she held him close and felt the love between them, strong and intense. When she realized her body was reacting, her big nipples standing up under her sweater, her pussy getting hot and wet, she broke away and acted like she was emotionally overwhelmed. 

Her son had his hands on her a few more times that day, lovingly rubbing the belly that contained his son and his daughter. It made Margaret tingle, and that filled her with shame. After the dishes were done and the happy couple were back at their own home, Margaret put the industrial size vibrator between her legs and imagined Daniel rubbing her belly and sucking on her breasts at the same time. She came until she was weak and shaking. Just a few more months, she told herself as she tossed the vibrator aside and covered herself in shame. Whatever weird hormonal thing was happening would have to stop when she gave birth. She would just have to live with this sick secret until May.

There was a fluttering, bubbly feeling in her queasy stomach. Maybe it was gas, she told herself. She had certainly eaten too much potatoes and gravy. But she had been feeling that strange sensation more and more, and even though it was too early to be feeling it she knew it was the babies kicking. Her son's babies. Growing inside her, and not inside his wife. Margaret groaned in frustration when she realized, for some horrible reason, that now she was horny again.

This is shaping up most excellent. You are doing a terrific job with this

Fingers crossed the story doesn't end here. I know I'm not entitled to more, but I'd be disappointed if there wasn't.

Keep going!

Hope Margaret looks like this: