Stories
"Overdue" by Bellyfan; ISO Part 2
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Poochyfud
In the twilight of the old ExpansionMansion forum Bellyfan posted a story about a woman who had been pregnant for 18 months with no end in sight. Postmaturity (as it is scientifically known) is a big turn-on for me, whether it's a week or two or something impossible and extreme. I saved the original story, which is reproduced below. Bellyfan later wrote a continuation, but the EM forums collapsed before I could copy it to my hard drive. If Bellyfan, or a Bellyfan-fan, is out there with the second part, could you share this deliciously descriptive story with the rest of us?

***

Overdue
by Bellyfan

As Jenny waddled the long, laborious trip from her usual, well-indented spot on the couch, surrounded by water bottles, snacks, and mind-numbing girlie magazines, to the kitchen to acquire some slightly more substantial sustenance, she caught a glimpse of herself in the large decorative living room mirror. "I never cease to amaze myself," she said out loud. And, truly, she would have amazed anyone. Jenny's surprisingly youthful face, healthy hair, jet black and tied in a neat pony tail, was a portrait of housewife beauty which any man would be jealous to have as his own. Slightly further south, her ample DDD-cup breasts were beyond perky to the point of being downright painful most of the time, held aloft by what sat beneath. Her pregnant belly jutted out straight in front of her, and in any direction it could reach for that matter. She measured a full 78 inches around and, if she still played this pathetic game, she measured 114 weeks pregnant in centimeters from the top of her uterus to pubic bone.

This mathematical anomaly aside, Jenny was "merely" 80 weeks pregnant. That's right, our poor girl has been with child (the same child) for a full 18 months with no end in sight. Doctors couldn't explain it, and much to their (and her) chagrin, they simply could not induce labor by natural or medical means. They had tried everything without yielding so much as a Braxton-Hicks contraction. Medical complications had ruled out a c-section, so Jenny simply continued to be pregnant. She had been the subject of numerous medical journal entries, and they had even given her rare condition a name, "Stubborn Fetus Syndrome," in accord with the creativity for which the medical community is renowned. She attended regular doctor visits and had 5 of the top OBs in the area on 10 different speed dials, but unfortunately had yet to require any of their emergency services. And so, Jenny had grown accustomed to her life carrying what was essentially an otherwise healthy 9-month old baby, and the exponentially greater amount of amniotic fluid and placenta, inside her womb, constantly holding out for labor and delivery which never came.

And so she waddled, her stubborn passenger rocking back and forth within her, forcing Jenny to arch her back in what had become a second natured effort to generate enough forward motion to traverse the treacherous 30 feet to the fridge (treacherous as she had no way of knowing what obstacles might lie on the floor, though dear hubby did his best to keep a clear path for poor, bloated wifey). As she placed one heavy, bare foot on the ground, followed by the other, her disproportionately allocated mass shifted heavily from one side to the next, a veritable parody of the pregnant waddle turned cartoonish by her immense girth. "OUCH!" she exclaimed, as she landed a step right on top of a plastic soda bottle cap. Normally, this wouldn't hurt nearly so much, but her feet felt more swollen than usual today. However, as with the floor debris, she had no way of immediately verifying this and would have to wait until her darling husband returned from work to examine (and, perhaps, lend a merciful rub down to) her overworked toes, arches, heels, and ankles.

Jenny was indeed able to walk (or, rather, waddle) short distances, as she had refused to become bedridden, fearing the long term effects of spending a year or more in bed. Her persistence had helped her maintain the capacity of limited locomotion, though there were some particular activities which were simply dear memories. For instance, Jenny was afraid she might forget how to tie her shoes, having not done so in recent memory. Driving had also been utterly out of the question some time ago. In fact, Jenny no longer even fit in the passenger seat of her husband's sedan. Fortunately, with some assistance, she could still heft her gargantuan frame and settle into the passenger seat of her roomy SUV, albeit uncomfortably.

Day dreaming aside, she finally reached her destination. Pulling the door of the refrigerator open, it immediately slammed shut after bouncing against her considerable tummy. Jenny couldn't be blamed for misjudging her size. Infants grow at an amazing rate, and hers was no exception. Maneuvering her bulk so as to properly reach the delicious sliced salami she so craved, Jenny couldn't shake the image she had just caught in the mirror. To the uneducated observer, she was clearly pregnant with quadruplets or quintuplets, ready to burst at any moment with a multitude of life. However, in actuality, it was just the two of them, one mother and one child, (ready to burst though she was).

At the moment, Jenny was clad in a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants, the band of which disappeared from all view under the lower curve of her rotundity. She wore a XXXXL t-shirt, which was laughably loose in the sleeves, but pulled tight around the equator of her maternity, covering most of her distended belly, leaving only the very bottom curve of her massiveness exposed; a reverse iceberg effect, showing only the tip at the bottom.

After assembling a lavish plate of deli meats, bread, cheese, and olive oil, she balanced her post-lunch, pre-dinner meal on the generous shelf of her pregnancy and made the long, reverse trek to the spot on the couch which she insisted on thinking of as a waiting room rather than a prison. She WOULD have this baby; it was a question of when, not if (forget the why or how).

Returning to her familiar spot, she lowered herself as gently and gracefully as her gravid bulk would allow, starting slowly but ultimately ending with a heavy plop. As she landed, Jenny felt her heavy tits jiggle for at least a full second after the rest of her body stopped moving. Her hands went to massage their tender surface, and she tried to remember what her breasts looked like a year and a half ago; pert, perky sorority girl boobs the size of naval oranges. Jenny had been a perfect 36C, but that might as well have been a lifetime ago. Now her massive milkers spilled out over the crest of her immense belly like distended honeydew melons. She had started lactating almost a year ago and intentionally kept milking herself so that she would be ready to feed her baby when it finally arrived. In the meantime, she might a tidy profit selling the milk to some hippie organic farm that used breast milk to make ice cream or something. She didn't particularly care, as she had milk to spare, and they paid $10 a pint.

Turning her attention to the impossible to ignore, Jenny felt along the surface of her belly for her baby's powerful kicks. Infants are strong enough to crawl by nine months old, and despite having never seen the light of day, hers was no exception. As her baby kicked and jabbed at her insides, Jenny remained hopeful that one jostle or another would initiate the pain she had never felt which would mercifully put her into labor. She wondered, more and more every day, how such a large baby would make its entrance into the world. Would it seriously injure her? Kill her?? She simply consoled herself that mother nature knew what she was doing.

****
*

It was one week later, and Jenny was sitting in her usual spot on the couch. The only difference is that now she was 81 weeks pregnant. Still pregnant, still growing, no end in sight. The tv was on, but mainly as background noise to stave off loneliness. Funny that anyone could feel lonely with a nearly one year old person inside of them. However, this particular person wasn't much of a conversationalist. Unless, of course, he was hungry or, increasingly lately, trying to find a comfortable position inside his constantly growing yet constantly shrinking home. Truly, as much as Jenny's heroic womb stretched to accommodate her rapidly growing baby, it still wasn't enough. This made the nearly constant kicks and punches that much more visible to the outside observer. Of course, Jenny didn't need to see them as she could feel each and every jab at near-toddler strength.

She reclined in her chair so that the nearly empty gallon tub of ice cream sitting atop her mountainous tummy leaned back to rest in the canyon of her cleavage. The rim of the tub right at her mouth, she greedily gulped down the last few slurps of her now melty snack. "Calcium for the baby," she told herself to justify the 320 grams of fat she had just consumed.

It was still early afternoon, and dear hubby wouldn't be home for quite some time. She wanted to take a nap to pass the time, but after the 10 hours she had gotten the night before, that simply wasn't happening. She could tell by the way the commotion inside her belly had calmed down that her passenger had taken a nap after his meal. Jenny absolutely dreaded the thought, but this was as good a time as she was going to get for her ritualistic exercise. She had come to coordinate this sisyphean chore around her unborn baby's naps. Moving her gargantuan form was hard enough, and it had simply become impossible when he was "acting up."

With the aid of her trusty claw reacher (yes, the kind used by the elderly and disabled to pick fallen objects up off the ground), she eased her swollen and bloated feet, chubby toes first, into a comfy pair of crocs. Leaning forward until the orb of her belly was resting on her knees, Jenny pushed her hands against the arm rests with all her might to aid her weary legs in hoisting her 280 lbs (nearly twice her pre-pregnancy weight!) into the air. Finally achieving verticality, she thrust her magnificent tummy out as far as she could (which happened to be pretty damned far) as she stretched her poor, aching back.

Two hands firmly planted on the small of her back, thumbs facing the direction she most sincerely desired to go, Jenny waddled ponderously to the bedroom, brushing her belly first against the left doorjamb, then the right. She briefly shuddered at the thought that ordinary doors were becoming a tight squeeze. It really wasn't, and this experience was merely the product of her ridiculously pronounced waddle, but would this baby really wait so long to make his arrival that she would get too big to walk through doors? More likely, would she simply get too big to walk at all? She vowed that would not be the case, and that is exactly why her exercise routine was so important.

She gave herself a good once-over in the mirror, slowly shifting her bulk back and forth to take it all in. She lived in this body every moment of the day, but something about seeing herself from the third person perspective in all her glory just made it seem even more real. She was presently clad in a tight, pink sports bra that struggled to contain her expansive chest. Milky, white flesh poured out of the top and threatened to leak out of the bottom as well. The fronts were damp with the usual leakage from her own personal dairy farm. As much as she wanted to toss the constricting and slightly painful garment aside, she knew she needed every bit of support she could get for the task ahead, and this was unfortunately the largest bra she owned at the moment. "Well, time to figure out what comes after DDD. Please, please, God, let it be a nursing bra!" she groaned.

As large and cumbersome as her tits were, they were udderly dwarfed by her gargantuan pregnant belly that completely obscured her matching panties from view. Constant lotion rubs and excellent genes had kept stretch marks to a relative minimum, but they bore their mark along the sides of her ample belly. Her amazing tummy jutted out to the sides as well, growing in any direction it could, and looking perilously like it might just break off her otherwise modest frame. The bulge of her front was clearly visible from behind, as the tight skin of her toned back gave way to rounded, sloping sides that curved around deliciously to the main event, her 18 month pregnant belly.

Bending ever so slightly at the waist so her petite little arms could reach past her dominating belly, Jenny rifled through the handful of garments she had that might make her decent for public view. She finally pulled out an absolute tent of a blue and white horizontal striped maternity dress. This had been given along with a big bag of other clothes right around the 11-month mark, just shy of one year pregnant, when her "Stubborn Fetus Syndrome" was formally diagnosed. The clothes had belonged to her friend, Trina, who had given birth to triplets the previous year, and Jenny and hubs had a good laugh at this particular dress, one of the only things left that fit Trina before delivery, but no one was laughing now as she held it against her impressive frame, praying it would fit.

Jenny slipped her head and arms into the labyrinth of fabric and worked her engorged breasts into place above the waistband. Now came the moment of truth as she stretched the light jersey material over the 83 inches of her pregnancy. She wrestled with the humongous parody of a sun dress until it sat on her admittedly unique body as well as it might. Her oversized abdomen caused the front hem to lift up well above the knee and cling to her foot and a half of underbelly, while the back of the dress came down to just above the calves. Her walnut-sized bellybutton made its presence unmistakably known as it pressed proudly outward. Jenny gave herself a sideways look in the mirror and muttered, "Demi Moore I'm not, but this will have to do."

*****

Jenny gave a wide berth as she swung the front door wide open. Stepping back, it still nearly grazed her impressive belly. She squinted slightly, stepping out into the bright day, her pale, stretched skin standing in stark contrast. Taking a deep breath, Jenny began making her laborious way down the walk, past the mailbox, and out onto the street. She went left, intentionally walking uphill, so that she could "coast" downhill on the return trip. At first, Jenny set off with a determined gait. Almost humorous to the outside observer, given her positively immense frame. Huffing and puffing, she pumped her plump arms up and down to facilitate the expedited waddle up the low-gradient hill, which might as well have been Kilimanjaro for the overly pregnant mother.

After about two blocks with her best game face on, Jenny was beginning to show early signs of fatigue. By block three, she was "glowing" in a most unladylike fashion and gasping for breath. Her involuntary passenger had also responded to the excessive stimulus with a tantrum of kicks and punches, pounding against her over-stretched uterus. After an arduous 11 minutes of cardio, Jenny plopped her heavy frame down on a bench that had mercifully been provided by the development in which they lived.

Taking a moment to regain her breath and temporarily refusing to contemplate the difficulty of once again rising to a standing position, Jenny stroked her ridiculously ponderous abdomen. "Come on, babe, all this jostling around HAS to make you want to think about coming out! It's a beautiful day to be born!" Jenny's overgrown fetus replied only with a sharp kick to the ribs that indicated no decipherable opinion on birth.

It was at this time that Jenny saw her good friend, Kelly, bouncing along in the opposite direction. As she approached, the chestnut brown pony tail, deep brown eyes, gently freckled face, and 8 month pregnant belly were unmistakable. Kelly, ever the show-off, had chosen to don a black sports bra, clearly flaunting her engorged d-cup breasts and a pair of matching black, form-fitting, Lycra short shorts with a blue pinstripe down the side. Kelly's pronounced belly was completely exposed, bouncing up and down in an exaggerated fashion as she ran. Despite her belly, large by normal standards, Kelly stood in stark contrast to Jenny, wearing a stretched cotton sundress with horizontal stripes, needlessly amplifying her superhuman girth.

"Hey... Jen," Kelly panted, as she reached the bench that Jenny had made her base camp. "How's it *puff* goin?"

"Ugh, still here, still pregnant, still growing," Jenny answered unenthusiastically to her much more athletic counterpart.

"Sorry to here that, babes," Kelly responded with a degree of genuine sympathy. "Just hang in there, and keep workin that bod of yours, and I'm sure your little one will make his grand entry!"

"Getting tougher and tougher," the year-and-a-half pregnant Jenny responded with a pout. "I can barely waddle a few blocks without hitting a big, fat, pregnant wall these days."

"Awwww," Kelly returned the pout, sticking her voluptuous lower lip out and giving the saddest, brown puppy dog eyes ever seen. Rubbing her own considerably fecund yet tanned tummy, she offered with a wink, "Are there any exercises you can do lying down?"

Jenny knew where this was going, Kelly being a notorious flirt who wasn't afraid to cross the "bi-line." However, she was in desperate need of some loving attention and, most likely, some help off of the now very comfortable bench.

"I'm sure a preggo workout queen like you could think of something," Jenny replied, returning the wink, "but for now it looks like my big fat butt is stuck here on this bench," adding a somehow even sadder puppy dog frown.

"Well, then, we'll just have to help you up!" Kelly chirped, offering her petite, manicured hands. In actuality, helping Jenny up required more actual work than Kelly had expected. She had to lean way back, using her own maternal girth as leverage, the two girls gripping hands for dear life, lest they both wind up on their backsides, as Jenny was slowly and arduously raised to a standing position. As this happened, Kelly nearly lost her balance, and overcompensated, falling forward. Her breasts and belly pushing up hard and firm against Jenny's own doubly engorged bust and womb. The two caught each other in awkward eye contact, smiling and blushing in kind.

"Looks like I need to get you home just as badly as I need you to help me get home," Jenny giggled, as Kelly placed her hands on her friend's underbelly and the small of her back, and they began the long, three block trek home.
Liked by zonekun2 (Jan 9, 2022), vx368 (Mar 24, 2021), wolverineczech (Mar 13, 2021), petr99 (May 6, 2020), DanteSparda45 (Sep 20, 2015), alsx (Sep 13, 2015), Blank97 (Sep 11, 2015), jin1976 (Sep 9, 2015), (Sep 8, 2015)
User 14865
I remember this story! He wrote a second part to it?? Oh man, please, if anyone here has it, please share it!
c1025018
This sounds like it's going to be hot.
teenpreggobellylover
it was really nice.

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