MARIA
Sarah and I have been best friends since fifth grade. We were the strongest readers in our class, and bonded over our love of books. Our teacher made a contest out of everyone’s reading; here began the ultra-competitive dynamic of our relationship, continuing to this day. Then, it was all about earning bookmarks and the occasional pizza party. As we continued through middle school together, the competition spread to soccer, clarinet, and rollerblading. In high school, it turned to boys.
SARAH
The only reason our competition hadn’t turned to boys until high school was that I hit puberty a lot later than Maria. She was getting all kinds of attention in middle school, but she was too kind and too good a friend to rub it in my face. So she waited…which I bet she regrets now.
MARIA
Yeah, that was stupid of me; no fucking way I’d be nice to Sarah like that these days. Anyway, however we ended up there, we became competitive over boys in high school. There was a boy we both had a crush on, who ended up asking to dance with me at a semi-formal, while Sarah happened to be in the bathroom. We’d agreed to both keep our distance to avoid drama, but I gave in to temptation in her absence. She walked back into the gym to see us making out in front of everyone. Things turned a little less friendly from there.
SARAH
I’d been a little self-conscious in comparison to Maria, and this early little incident did not help. I’m of Scandinavian descent: tall, thin, pale, blonde. In decades past, this may have been the American ideal for a young woman. In our day, though, Maria’s physical type proved much more desirable to the opposite sex: Latina, short, curvy. The boys ate that shit up.
MARIA
Good to be thick these days.
SARAH.
I’m sure. So, Maria naturally drew more eyes than I did. I quickly countered with being looser than she was willing to be. She kissed a boy first, but I was felt up first. And did hand stuff. And mouth stuff.
MARIA
I caught up soon enough, but she’d developed a reputation. The boys knew where to go, and I’d fallen behind.
SARAH
The poor thing. Once we were both having regular sex, things kinda settled down. We slept through a decent chunk of our class between sophomore and junior years of high school, then both settled for our teenage boyfriends. Our creativity within the competition had sort of run out once we’d begun fucking. Where could a girl possibly go from there?
MARIA
Even with the promiscuity, we were pretty good kids through graduation. It wasn’t until we were off at college together that we realized the creative boost substance abuse could provide was the missing spark we needed. Our inhibitions, limited though we imagined they’d been, truly disappeared. We realized we hadn’t even been talking about which positions we’d been screwing in. Had the competition really dried up as soon as we’d both been fucked in missionary? How very pedestrian of us.
SARAH
It’s embarrassing, frankly. That first time we drank together, the first weekend after classes started, we stayed up the whole night telling each other things we’d never thought to divulge. Never thought we’d been holding things back, exactly, but the lack of boundaries we felt once inebriated provided its own type of intoxication and a new level of openness. Before the night was over, we knew our challenges had to resume: as soon as we possibly could, we needed to start fucking in a wider variety of positions.
MARIA
And that, of course, was just the start of the collegiate round. Orifices were explored. Numbers of folks involved and the nature of those folks. Settings. If we could think of a variable, we’d create a challenge based on it, seeing who could complete it first, quickest, most extremely: there were at least as many metrics as there were competitions.
SARAH
By senior year, both nursing moderate alcohol problems and horrible social reputations, we seemed to be just about out of ideas once again. We came up with a final dream list, grosser and more out-there than we’d gone in the past, and really went for it as we started our final semester. Even that list, though, only took five or six weeks. A month after that, we found ourselves at Planned Parenthood: it was Maria’s fifth abortion, putting her ahead of my four.
MARIA
With all the substances we’d sampled through college, something about this particular instance of coming out of the procedure’s mild sedation hit me a certain way, delivered unto me a conclusion I’d somehow failed to reach in all my previous visits to this clinic: why hadn’t we seen through any of these pregnancies our escapades had created?
SARAH
It was a crazy thought, but the timing did feel right. As we finished up college, we had that always-horrifying sensation of peering into what the rest of our lives might hold, the sameness in front of us for the next 6-8 decades. So fucking intimidating. The prospect of extending our childish sexual games, then, while also embarking on a journey that would result in the oh-so-adult situation of parenthood? Oddly perfect.
MARIA
Even fucked-up from the meds I was shocked Sarah thought my suggestion was anything short of insane. She had to convince me of my own idea all over again later, once I’d sobered up. It kept confusing me because the conversation happened directly following an abortion, but was about letting a pregnancy go to term. Later, in my right mind and once Sarah had explained for the 10th time how different sex might be once we were swollen all over (not to mention flooded with crazy hormones), I was fully onboard. We’d gotten pregnant so many times before, it didn’t seem hard to do it and mean it for once.
SARAH
And it wasn’t. The OB/GYN at Planned Parenthood, in their little spiel we both had just about memorized, made it abundantly clear that you must abstain for sex for a few weeks post-abortion, and it wasn’t a good idea to get pregnant for bare minimum two menstrual cycles after that. Not sure how accurate that was, but that’s what they liked to say. So, we waited one cycle and started bareback fucking with abandon. Though we set this up as a contest, as we did everything in our relationship, we happened to reach a tie in the impregnation race. Conception happened for both of us within that cycle; we even ended up with the same due date. We had to consciously remind ourselves not to head straight to the abortion clinic once we found ourselves in the family way: habits, once so thoroughly developed, can be difficult to break.
MARIA
As obnoxious as it had been having our cycles perfectly synced for years and enduring all the emotional fallout that entails, it was nice to be so matched up that getting knocked-up in the same time period meant sharing a due date. It was a nice affirmation of our enduring closeness. Once dual-impregnation was achieved, though, the competition was back fucking on.
SARAH
The first trimester, prior to substantial expansion and very much in the middle of morning sickness, was not the most enjoyable portion of this experience. All the puking and exhaustion didn’t leave a ton of space for sexual conquest, creating some anxiety about pregnancy’s potential limitations for the sort of contest we’d envisioned.
MARIA
And the single toilet shared by two nauseous preggos raised some anxiety about our modest apartment’s limitations as a living space. We persevered, though, knowing things were supposed to get a bit more pleasant around the three-month mark. Around 8 weeks, we even mustered the energy for our first round of competition: who could fuck more quickly after puking? It was gross, but far from the grossest thing we’d done. Leveraging men’s desperation was old hat for us, a way we could reliably alleviate our own guilt over our misdeeds. The men were being grosser, so we were fine, right?
SARAH
My strategy here was to take advantage of a drunk guy. Easiest thing in the world. I figured I’d have to find him once I was already rather nauseous and he was already rather drunk (at a bar, naturally), lure him back to our place, ply him with beers and flirtation until I was ready to excuse myself to puke, then right away go back to the bed I’d left him waiting on and mount him for a quick screw. I decided I would not kiss, an aspect we’d decided to keep optional, as that would just make me feel too disgusting post-vomit and I didn’t care enough to waste 20 seconds brushing my teeth. We’d decided about 200 challenges previous that for “who could ____ more quickly”-style challenges, the issue was official only upon climax, should orgasm be the presumptive result of the act. So, here, my fucking of this guy could only be said to have occurred once he came.
MARIA
And that is why her drunkard strategy is so fatally flawed. She’s gonna fuck a trashed guy till he cums? Really, Sarah?? It’s as if the girl is too inexperienced to have ever heard of “whiskey dick.” Though she was taking advantage of men’s inherently pathetic desire to fuck at all costs with her plan, she didn’t go cynically far enough with it. They do not need to be inebriated for a woman to take advantage of their pathetic base level of desperation. You don’t need even the flimsiest layer of pretext. An example conversation, approximating how I coordinated my dalliance for this challenge:
Me: Come to my apartment now. I will vomit soon, then you will fuck me until you cum. Then you’ll leave.
Whichever Guy: Okay.
No follow-up questions. He doesn’t need a condom, and I don’t need foreplay; I don’t need to tell him either fact, though, as a lady needs to specify the need for either only if/when she wants them. There are no gentlemen out there, friends: take fucking advantage.
SARAH
So, yeah, Maria obviously won. By sort of a lot.
MARIA
He did cum in you, though?
SARAH
Yeah, but it took 15 minutes of piss-poor humping, and it took 5 for him to focus up enough to get it in me in the first place. And yours…?
MARIA
Shot in me 4 minutes after my puke hit the toilet bowl.
SARAH
Jesus. Well played.
MARIA
Thank you. A few days later, when we both hit 9 weeks, we had our first trimester ultrasounds, the firsts of the pregnancies. We booked adjacent appointments with our OB/GYN and accompanied each other. Sarah went first: everything looked fine, all textbook and encouraging, healthy mother and fetus. My turn came. I took a deep breath, mustered some courage, and made my confession to Sarah: when we were trying to get pregnant, I’d been juicing.
SARAH
I still can’t believe I didn’t think of this. It’s a high level move.
MARIA
Yeah, I wasn’t fucking around. Just after we made the decision to pursue pregnancy, I hopped on the dark web and ordered some black market fertility drugs. I knew little about the medications and took them recklessly right up until I got my positive test. I couldn’t be sure they’d been effective prior to my first ultrasound, of course, but I felt I should reveal the increased possibility of multiples to Sarah before the scan did it for me. Maybe as a kindness, maybe as an added bit of drama: hard to say with me.
SARAH
In retrospect, the fact that you were already pretty clearly showing at 9 weeks and I had no belly whatsoever was a bit of a giveaway. Everyone carries differently, though, so I didn’t immediately jump to you having more than one in there.
MARIA
Yeah, the early appearance of the belly didn’t make me that confident myself, even knowing I’d been juicing. We have pretty different body types, there’s lots of variability between women, all that jazz. It made me a bit more hopeful that it may have been a successful gambit, sure, but I didn’t really get my hopes up. I watched the tech’s face closely as she moved the ultrasound wand inside me, my stomach filling with butterflies as I saw her eyes go comically wide. My stomach was also filled with three babies, she excitedly informed me. I laughed out loud, my evil plan’s success delighting me. Sarah, I believe, said “fuck.”
SARAH
I said “fuck,” yes. I couldn’t blame you for having come up with the better strategy, but I was pretty pissed anyway. We hadn’t discussed a ton of pregnancy-specific challenges we’d be engaging in, but one of the most obvious that had come up was a size competition: biggest belly diameter, most weight gained, et cetera. Right there with a little dark web juicing, Maria seemed to have run away with this entire category.
MARIA
The category turned out to be less fully in the bag than it initially seemed, though. As I’m sure we’ll get to.
SARAH
Oh, we’ll get to it, yeah. We’ll stick more or less to the chronology for now though, apparently with the occasional cryptic hint when Maria decides to make her little comments.
MARIA
My bad.
SARAH
I did pretty quickly realize, though, that there were some alternate advantages to my singleton pregnancy in comparison to Maria’s triplets: more acts and positions would be possible with my more modest size, for example, or I might be able to accommodate additional partners in a group sex scenario. I’d take my advantages where I could find them; her soon-to-be-gigantically-fat ass was not going to be able to be as physically creative as I was.
MARIA
Granted. So, about four weeks after that initial ultrasound, just as we were finishing up our first trimester, the morning sickness finally subsided for me. Not for Sarah, though, which was surprising: those sorts of unpleasant pregnancy symptoms are generally supposed to be more severe for a multiple gestation. Just goes to show, again, how individualized each gestational experience is. I could’ve started fucking like a madwoman in that week-and-a-half I had the jump on Sarah, but boosting my expectant body count that way seemed slightly unethical given the triplet advantage. I stood down, though it was not without its challenges to do so: the hormones had shifted from making me constantly puke to making me constantly wet.
SARAH
Hearing you masturbate repeatedly/furiously in your room as I was still hunched over the toilet was oddly encouraging, even arousing. I was very excited that I might have that level of horniness to look forward to. Before I could visibly do anything about it, my mind started getting pumped about what was to come. So much of my own swelling, other people’s genitalia, fluids from all over. It was an exciting prospect. I’d linger on the bathroom floor, tentatively rubbing my own just-starting-to-engorge pussy as I heard Maria insatiably going to town. I could not wait to begin things in earnest.
MARIA
With all the waiting to bring the intensely building sexual energy somewhere outside my bedroom’s toy collection, I started fantasizing about what our first real challenge might be. So much horniness had developed, and at the start of our second trimesters we were likely at peak pregnancy energy and physical flexibility: this all called for group sex.
SARAH
I was thrilled when Maria made this suggestion. It sounded like a great way to begin, an all-out way to really get things started. At 16 weeks (with Maria looking about 25 weeks if hers had been a singleton pregnancy), we headed to our usual fetish club, The Sex Cauldron, to get things going. At this moment a fetish club seemed particularly relevant as our conditions currently put us squarely in the interest zone of a specific fetish. Throughout our collegiate sexual career, though, The Cauldron had functioned more as an all-purpose sexual resource, a place you could drop in to find folks up for basically anything. We’d settled on using the club after realizing the internet’s infinite possibilities for coordinating sexual escapades could become practical limitations: you could keep planning indefinitely, finding freakier and freakier perverts willing to travel further and further for acts more and more esoteric. Instead, you could drop by the fetish club on a hopping weekend night, propose what you had in mind to a handful of folks, let word spread for 45 minutes, and leave with more willing and able folks than you’d anticipated within the hour. Or stay and play in one of the relevant rooms, if that happened to be the goal of the evening. It was simple and effective, allowing for a truly debauched act to occur within a very reasonable amount of time.
MARIA
We showed up on a Friday night in short pre-maternity bodycon dresses, unmistakably pregnant. We both kept a hand sensuously rubbing our respective bumps as we strutted into the place, doing our best to leave our horny intentions unambiguous. An aspect of The Cauldron we’d always found extremely useful was that it was separated into a downstairs and upstairs, with each having their own regulars. Years ago, we’d heard, the intention had been a distinction between gentler (upstairs) and rougher (downstairs) play. That dichotomy really didn’t hold true by the time we started patronizing The Sex Cauldron, but each floor having a distinct clientele had, for whatever reason, carried over. So, each of us had adopted a floor a few years ago. We could easily organize a challenge here, one of us taking upstairs and one down-, both of us having developed relationships over time with some of the regulars we’d repeatedly encountered. It almost felt like the place was created for a couple oddly competitive perverts like us.
SARAH
I ran into a handful of my old chums upstairs, reliable on a hopping night. They were happy to see me for the first time in a while, thrilled to see me knocked-up and looking to fuck. A preggo was a rare commodity in such a place, but a frequent item on folks’ sexual bucket lists. As such, it would not be difficult to marshal forces here. Maria and I had settled ahead of time on utilizing the club’s accommodations for our dalliances: our bedrooms and mattresses were modest in size, plus there was no need to try transporting a load of more-than-likely-inebriated perverts to our home. Initially, the central metric of this challenge was to be number of partners in the gang bang. We quickly came to the conclusion, though, that the number of people we could get to participate in this would be limited only by the number of folks allowed in the building by the fire code. In a sex club and with the possibilities provided by the internet, the number of people available to fuck is practically limitless. I suggested we count how many people we were concurrently engaged with on the bed at one time…
MARIA
…and I countered that that would be less a sexual feat than one of balance and coordination. We discussed measuring how many people we were touching at the same moment, but that felt similarly meaningless when a great many people could, for example, touch a contestant with a single finger at the same time. Ultimately, we settled on two criteria to measure these orgies: A) Number of distinct genitalia with which a contestant made purposeful (defined by being in clear pursuit of the goal of orgasm) and substantial (defined by having lasted no less than three [3] minutes) contact within any period of one [1] hour; and B) Peak number of genitalia either ensconcing or ensconced by a contestant at a given moment – “ensconcing” (or “ensconced by”) to be defined as encompassing (or encompassed by) no less than seventy-five percent [75%] of the individual in question’s genitals, anus, mouth, or an entire hand or foot.
SARAH
In other words, as far the second sub-challenge was concerned, how many parts of other folks could you fit in yourself while simultaneously fitting parts of yourself in other folks? And for the first, it was more or less a test of how many parts of yourself you could use for actions that judges would agree would eventually lead to a climax. Speaking of which, we were thrilled to find that both of our usual judges were in attendance at The Cauldron that night. These two enjoyed (to a sexual degree) observing and making decisions about miniscule details, making them ideal candidates for the job. We’d employed them in this way many times before, and they always seemed to appreciate being of such service.
MARIA
Rules, judges, and crews of regulars from our respective floors all ready to go, we went our separate ways to get started. To begin, my room contained roughly two dozen people, including myself. I got naked and got on my back on the California king-size bed. The eyes in the room were uniformly glued to my swollen form, and it felt great: it was nice to be so publicly naked and so nakedly desired. My friends followed my lead in shedding their clothing; I motioned for them to come forth and join me on the bed. They put themselves at my disposal, allowing me to push and pull them into position to be used as I saw fit. I got a fit blonde woman on her knees above my face so I could perform cunnilingus: better than a blowjob’s requirement of a ton of neck-bobbing, inevitably rocking one’s entire body. I focused on the clit with firm tongue and gentle teeth, as per usual and in keeping with our bylaws of sexual acts only counting if we clearly try to do things right.
SARAH
Have we mentioned our relationship to sleeping with women?
MARIA
I guess we haven’t; we are for it. Back to the gang bang: I tried to get two dicks per hand, first next to each other, then, when that failed due to physical realities, tip-to-tip. Tip-to-tip did technically work, but I found it so clumsy that it definitely slowed me down by more than 50%: as such, I was nervous the judge would ding me for lack of effectiveness with this technique. I settled for a set of genitals per hand, stroking and jerking a variety of cocks and cunts throughout the extravaganza. A lot of people came during the three minutes I gave them, either due to the amount of excitement they felt being worked by a pregnant person or from the fact that a lot of people were playing with themselves and each other on the sidelines in preparation for their short time with me.
[NOTE: In this type of competitive case in which a person has three minutes with a set of genitals in pursuance of an orgasm, it was long ago agreed that, should an orgasm occur prior to that three minutes expiring, it would be counted as a full three-minute period of sexual contact for the sake of the contest. You can’t penalize a person for working efficiently, after all. Nor can you blame a fucktoy for getting all hot and bothered on their own thinking about what’s to cum. -Maria & Sarah-]
MARIA [cont.]
When I got ejaculate on my hand, I quickly wiped it on my belly; I was shiny and sticky as hell in no time, a sight my friends and I were all consistently drawn to. Considering my body from arms down to pelvis, I initially thought I had my usual lack of orgasm-producing parts. Not so when in the family way! I suddenly recalled hearing of the fabled “bump job,” getting a person off principally utilizing a pregnant belly. This proved a real boon to my numbers.
SARAH
I didn’t remember the bump job on this one. So fucking stupid…
MARIA
Got myself stickier and stickier with those things; it was a nice new addition to the repertoire. In terms of the crotch and ass region, it was too hard to take a dick in both pussy and anus when laying down on my back. For double entry of that sort, one really should be on one’s hands and knees – thus taking one’s hands and feet out of the equation, entirely unacceptable in this particular situation. What I could take in both, though, were folks’ hands. It was uncomfortable on my tailbone taking a hand up the ass while supine, a very awkward posture to take. The only unfortunate thing about settling for the hand, asshole-wise, was that there wasn’t a terribly convincing argument that it was in direct furtherance of either my or the hand-person’s next orgasm. A hand in my pussy, suitably active and clit-focused, satisfied the requirement; the ass-hand, though, only met the criterion of having a body part inside someone else, not driving toward a climax. You truly cannot win them all.
SARAH
Have you ever tried using your hips for someone?
MARIA
How would that work, exactly?
SARAH
You could position a guy’s cock under your hips, then he could use the friction between your hip and the mattress for some potentially-fruitful humping. Never tried it, just occurred to me.
MARIA
Huh. Interesting thought. Next time, I guess. Next, down past my waist, I really couldn’t figure out how to make use of much of my legs. Even the feet felt like wasted potential, as I had to use both to jerk one guy off at a time.
SARAH
Why didn’t you get each foot in a different pussy?
MARIA
Calf cramps with the odd angles that put my legs in.
SARAH
Shit, that would really slow you down. I had a pussy per foot throughout, it went well for me. I tried to make the undersides of my knees work, but it wasn’t a consistent enough point of friction and guys kept falling out of the crevice when I moved incidentally due to the motions of my many other fuckings. Hand-in-ass worked for me, too, but I managed to get a dick thrown in me vaginally, pretty much the whole time. It was awkward, but goddamn did I want it. Could not resist, even if it likely subtracted from my numbers in the end. I guess this is the downside of having gotten horny listening to Maria masturbate while Maria got her horniness out over and over again via masturbation.
MARIA
I’m trying to envision how you did this, and it doesn’t physically make sense to me. You consistently fit a guy in you, with everyone else around in their various positions?
SARAH
They were the smallest men I could find, fortunately in terms of body size and unfortunately in terms of penises. And for hands…I used a trick I’m loath to describe here, as I don’t want Maria to steal it.
MARIA
We promised not to do that, Sarah.
SARAH
I know, I know, I’m not going to hide it. I just wanted to say: this has been a highly valued and guarded secret for years, and I hope you appreciate that I’m sharing it now.
MARIA
Okay, go on…
SARAH
Hands-wise, in an orgy situation in which we’re counting participants helped toward orgasm, it’s really not that hard to get one hand on two separate cunts.
MARIA
Shut the fuck up.
SARAH
No bullshit. They have to kneel directly to your side, right up close against each other. Like, faces touching, everything touching; doesn’t work if they’re tits are too big, even. As close as humanly possible. Then you reach out, wedge your hand in between their crotches, get a few fingers on each clit. Takes a bit of practice, but you can manage to maneuver adeptly enough to get them both off with the one hand. The judges have gotten right in there to check, and they’re on board.
MARIA
Fuck me. Brilliant.
SARAH
Thank you kindly. As far as a focal point’s mouth during an orgy goes, yes, it’s cunnilingus all the way. Blowjobs are far too disruptive, makes the entire endeavor more difficult. As I recall we were in our separate fucking rooms for about two hours all told, both running out of the energy and will to continue right around the same time, then reuniting in the lobby.
So! As far as the numbers go: for the first challenge, the number of people with whom we engaged in three minute periods toward orgasm, I got to 131. Lucky this was such a well-attended night at The Cauldron! And for the second, peak interesting body parts ensconced or ensconcing at once, I managed just seven. My pussy-doubling hand strategy didn’t even help, what with the 75% requirement for the ensconcing. Not sure how one would top seven, and I’m not sure pregnancy really changed the calculation there.
MARIA
Yeah, I got to seven myself on the second one. There must be other possibilities, but it can be difficult to manage two different criteria during the same challenge, as we’ve learned many times over. For the first, I’m embarrassed to admit, I only hit 88. Major disadvantage not being able to use my feet separately. And this two-pussies-per-hand thing is a mindblower. I knew your final number that night, of course, but I was always puzzled about how the hell you got there. Did you end up using your belly for anything during this one, Sarah?
SARAH
I didn’t, exactly, but the little guys fucking me sure did. They all held it nearly the entire time. I must say I enjoyed that. It did add a very different element to it all, a novel focus. I didn’t have the hands available to rub it myself, and few other participants were able to reach over and grab a piece. But I really liked the little guys gripping it. It felt special, unique when compared to past escapades. I was definitely looking forward to the bump coming into play more in the upcoming legs of the race.
MARIA
Yeah, I was really excited to both further expand and further experiment with all the changes. Fun stuff already, but a lot was to come, I was sure.
SARAH
Understandably, given the exhaustion resulting from our group efforts, we turned to smaller scale events next.
MARIA
Yes, the next string of challenges would be considerably more intimate. And we did manage to involve our growing bellies a lot more.
Sarah and I have been best friends since fifth grade. We were the strongest readers in our class, and bonded over our love of books. Our teacher made a contest out of everyone’s reading; here began the ultra-competitive dynamic of our relationship, continuing to this day. Then, it was all about earning bookmarks and the occasional pizza party. As we continued through middle school together, the competition spread to soccer, clarinet, and rollerblading. In high school, it turned to boys.
SARAH
The only reason our competition hadn’t turned to boys until high school was that I hit puberty a lot later than Maria. She was getting all kinds of attention in middle school, but she was too kind and too good a friend to rub it in my face. So she waited…which I bet she regrets now.
MARIA
Yeah, that was stupid of me; no fucking way I’d be nice to Sarah like that these days. Anyway, however we ended up there, we became competitive over boys in high school. There was a boy we both had a crush on, who ended up asking to dance with me at a semi-formal, while Sarah happened to be in the bathroom. We’d agreed to both keep our distance to avoid drama, but I gave in to temptation in her absence. She walked back into the gym to see us making out in front of everyone. Things turned a little less friendly from there.
SARAH
I’d been a little self-conscious in comparison to Maria, and this early little incident did not help. I’m of Scandinavian descent: tall, thin, pale, blonde. In decades past, this may have been the American ideal for a young woman. In our day, though, Maria’s physical type proved much more desirable to the opposite sex: Latina, short, curvy. The boys ate that shit up.
MARIA
Good to be thick these days.
SARAH.
I’m sure. So, Maria naturally drew more eyes than I did. I quickly countered with being looser than she was willing to be. She kissed a boy first, but I was felt up first. And did hand stuff. And mouth stuff.
MARIA
I caught up soon enough, but she’d developed a reputation. The boys knew where to go, and I’d fallen behind.
SARAH
The poor thing. Once we were both having regular sex, things kinda settled down. We slept through a decent chunk of our class between sophomore and junior years of high school, then both settled for our teenage boyfriends. Our creativity within the competition had sort of run out once we’d begun fucking. Where could a girl possibly go from there?
MARIA
Even with the promiscuity, we were pretty good kids through graduation. It wasn’t until we were off at college together that we realized the creative boost substance abuse could provide was the missing spark we needed. Our inhibitions, limited though we imagined they’d been, truly disappeared. We realized we hadn’t even been talking about which positions we’d been screwing in. Had the competition really dried up as soon as we’d both been fucked in missionary? How very pedestrian of us.
SARAH
It’s embarrassing, frankly. That first time we drank together, the first weekend after classes started, we stayed up the whole night telling each other things we’d never thought to divulge. Never thought we’d been holding things back, exactly, but the lack of boundaries we felt once inebriated provided its own type of intoxication and a new level of openness. Before the night was over, we knew our challenges had to resume: as soon as we possibly could, we needed to start fucking in a wider variety of positions.
MARIA
And that, of course, was just the start of the collegiate round. Orifices were explored. Numbers of folks involved and the nature of those folks. Settings. If we could think of a variable, we’d create a challenge based on it, seeing who could complete it first, quickest, most extremely: there were at least as many metrics as there were competitions.
SARAH
By senior year, both nursing moderate alcohol problems and horrible social reputations, we seemed to be just about out of ideas once again. We came up with a final dream list, grosser and more out-there than we’d gone in the past, and really went for it as we started our final semester. Even that list, though, only took five or six weeks. A month after that, we found ourselves at Planned Parenthood: it was Maria’s fifth abortion, putting her ahead of my four.
MARIA
With all the substances we’d sampled through college, something about this particular instance of coming out of the procedure’s mild sedation hit me a certain way, delivered unto me a conclusion I’d somehow failed to reach in all my previous visits to this clinic: why hadn’t we seen through any of these pregnancies our escapades had created?
SARAH
It was a crazy thought, but the timing did feel right. As we finished up college, we had that always-horrifying sensation of peering into what the rest of our lives might hold, the sameness in front of us for the next 6-8 decades. So fucking intimidating. The prospect of extending our childish sexual games, then, while also embarking on a journey that would result in the oh-so-adult situation of parenthood? Oddly perfect.
MARIA
Even fucked-up from the meds I was shocked Sarah thought my suggestion was anything short of insane. She had to convince me of my own idea all over again later, once I’d sobered up. It kept confusing me because the conversation happened directly following an abortion, but was about letting a pregnancy go to term. Later, in my right mind and once Sarah had explained for the 10th time how different sex might be once we were swollen all over (not to mention flooded with crazy hormones), I was fully onboard. We’d gotten pregnant so many times before, it didn’t seem hard to do it and mean it for once.
SARAH
And it wasn’t. The OB/GYN at Planned Parenthood, in their little spiel we both had just about memorized, made it abundantly clear that you must abstain for sex for a few weeks post-abortion, and it wasn’t a good idea to get pregnant for bare minimum two menstrual cycles after that. Not sure how accurate that was, but that’s what they liked to say. So, we waited one cycle and started bareback fucking with abandon. Though we set this up as a contest, as we did everything in our relationship, we happened to reach a tie in the impregnation race. Conception happened for both of us within that cycle; we even ended up with the same due date. We had to consciously remind ourselves not to head straight to the abortion clinic once we found ourselves in the family way: habits, once so thoroughly developed, can be difficult to break.
MARIA
As obnoxious as it had been having our cycles perfectly synced for years and enduring all the emotional fallout that entails, it was nice to be so matched up that getting knocked-up in the same time period meant sharing a due date. It was a nice affirmation of our enduring closeness. Once dual-impregnation was achieved, though, the competition was back fucking on.
SARAH
The first trimester, prior to substantial expansion and very much in the middle of morning sickness, was not the most enjoyable portion of this experience. All the puking and exhaustion didn’t leave a ton of space for sexual conquest, creating some anxiety about pregnancy’s potential limitations for the sort of contest we’d envisioned.
MARIA
And the single toilet shared by two nauseous preggos raised some anxiety about our modest apartment’s limitations as a living space. We persevered, though, knowing things were supposed to get a bit more pleasant around the three-month mark. Around 8 weeks, we even mustered the energy for our first round of competition: who could fuck more quickly after puking? It was gross, but far from the grossest thing we’d done. Leveraging men’s desperation was old hat for us, a way we could reliably alleviate our own guilt over our misdeeds. The men were being grosser, so we were fine, right?
SARAH
My strategy here was to take advantage of a drunk guy. Easiest thing in the world. I figured I’d have to find him once I was already rather nauseous and he was already rather drunk (at a bar, naturally), lure him back to our place, ply him with beers and flirtation until I was ready to excuse myself to puke, then right away go back to the bed I’d left him waiting on and mount him for a quick screw. I decided I would not kiss, an aspect we’d decided to keep optional, as that would just make me feel too disgusting post-vomit and I didn’t care enough to waste 20 seconds brushing my teeth. We’d decided about 200 challenges previous that for “who could ____ more quickly”-style challenges, the issue was official only upon climax, should orgasm be the presumptive result of the act. So, here, my fucking of this guy could only be said to have occurred once he came.
MARIA
And that is why her drunkard strategy is so fatally flawed. She’s gonna fuck a trashed guy till he cums? Really, Sarah?? It’s as if the girl is too inexperienced to have ever heard of “whiskey dick.” Though she was taking advantage of men’s inherently pathetic desire to fuck at all costs with her plan, she didn’t go cynically far enough with it. They do not need to be inebriated for a woman to take advantage of their pathetic base level of desperation. You don’t need even the flimsiest layer of pretext. An example conversation, approximating how I coordinated my dalliance for this challenge:
Me: Come to my apartment now. I will vomit soon, then you will fuck me until you cum. Then you’ll leave.
Whichever Guy: Okay.
No follow-up questions. He doesn’t need a condom, and I don’t need foreplay; I don’t need to tell him either fact, though, as a lady needs to specify the need for either only if/when she wants them. There are no gentlemen out there, friends: take fucking advantage.
SARAH
So, yeah, Maria obviously won. By sort of a lot.
MARIA
He did cum in you, though?
SARAH
Yeah, but it took 15 minutes of piss-poor humping, and it took 5 for him to focus up enough to get it in me in the first place. And yours…?
MARIA
Shot in me 4 minutes after my puke hit the toilet bowl.
SARAH
Jesus. Well played.
MARIA
Thank you. A few days later, when we both hit 9 weeks, we had our first trimester ultrasounds, the firsts of the pregnancies. We booked adjacent appointments with our OB/GYN and accompanied each other. Sarah went first: everything looked fine, all textbook and encouraging, healthy mother and fetus. My turn came. I took a deep breath, mustered some courage, and made my confession to Sarah: when we were trying to get pregnant, I’d been juicing.
SARAH
I still can’t believe I didn’t think of this. It’s a high level move.
MARIA
Yeah, I wasn’t fucking around. Just after we made the decision to pursue pregnancy, I hopped on the dark web and ordered some black market fertility drugs. I knew little about the medications and took them recklessly right up until I got my positive test. I couldn’t be sure they’d been effective prior to my first ultrasound, of course, but I felt I should reveal the increased possibility of multiples to Sarah before the scan did it for me. Maybe as a kindness, maybe as an added bit of drama: hard to say with me.
SARAH
In retrospect, the fact that you were already pretty clearly showing at 9 weeks and I had no belly whatsoever was a bit of a giveaway. Everyone carries differently, though, so I didn’t immediately jump to you having more than one in there.
MARIA
Yeah, the early appearance of the belly didn’t make me that confident myself, even knowing I’d been juicing. We have pretty different body types, there’s lots of variability between women, all that jazz. It made me a bit more hopeful that it may have been a successful gambit, sure, but I didn’t really get my hopes up. I watched the tech’s face closely as she moved the ultrasound wand inside me, my stomach filling with butterflies as I saw her eyes go comically wide. My stomach was also filled with three babies, she excitedly informed me. I laughed out loud, my evil plan’s success delighting me. Sarah, I believe, said “fuck.”
SARAH
I said “fuck,” yes. I couldn’t blame you for having come up with the better strategy, but I was pretty pissed anyway. We hadn’t discussed a ton of pregnancy-specific challenges we’d be engaging in, but one of the most obvious that had come up was a size competition: biggest belly diameter, most weight gained, et cetera. Right there with a little dark web juicing, Maria seemed to have run away with this entire category.
MARIA
The category turned out to be less fully in the bag than it initially seemed, though. As I’m sure we’ll get to.
SARAH
Oh, we’ll get to it, yeah. We’ll stick more or less to the chronology for now though, apparently with the occasional cryptic hint when Maria decides to make her little comments.
MARIA
My bad.
SARAH
I did pretty quickly realize, though, that there were some alternate advantages to my singleton pregnancy in comparison to Maria’s triplets: more acts and positions would be possible with my more modest size, for example, or I might be able to accommodate additional partners in a group sex scenario. I’d take my advantages where I could find them; her soon-to-be-gigantically-fat ass was not going to be able to be as physically creative as I was.
MARIA
Granted. So, about four weeks after that initial ultrasound, just as we were finishing up our first trimester, the morning sickness finally subsided for me. Not for Sarah, though, which was surprising: those sorts of unpleasant pregnancy symptoms are generally supposed to be more severe for a multiple gestation. Just goes to show, again, how individualized each gestational experience is. I could’ve started fucking like a madwoman in that week-and-a-half I had the jump on Sarah, but boosting my expectant body count that way seemed slightly unethical given the triplet advantage. I stood down, though it was not without its challenges to do so: the hormones had shifted from making me constantly puke to making me constantly wet.
SARAH
Hearing you masturbate repeatedly/furiously in your room as I was still hunched over the toilet was oddly encouraging, even arousing. I was very excited that I might have that level of horniness to look forward to. Before I could visibly do anything about it, my mind started getting pumped about what was to come. So much of my own swelling, other people’s genitalia, fluids from all over. It was an exciting prospect. I’d linger on the bathroom floor, tentatively rubbing my own just-starting-to-engorge pussy as I heard Maria insatiably going to town. I could not wait to begin things in earnest.
MARIA
With all the waiting to bring the intensely building sexual energy somewhere outside my bedroom’s toy collection, I started fantasizing about what our first real challenge might be. So much horniness had developed, and at the start of our second trimesters we were likely at peak pregnancy energy and physical flexibility: this all called for group sex.
SARAH
I was thrilled when Maria made this suggestion. It sounded like a great way to begin, an all-out way to really get things started. At 16 weeks (with Maria looking about 25 weeks if hers had been a singleton pregnancy), we headed to our usual fetish club, The Sex Cauldron, to get things going. At this moment a fetish club seemed particularly relevant as our conditions currently put us squarely in the interest zone of a specific fetish. Throughout our collegiate sexual career, though, The Cauldron had functioned more as an all-purpose sexual resource, a place you could drop in to find folks up for basically anything. We’d settled on using the club after realizing the internet’s infinite possibilities for coordinating sexual escapades could become practical limitations: you could keep planning indefinitely, finding freakier and freakier perverts willing to travel further and further for acts more and more esoteric. Instead, you could drop by the fetish club on a hopping weekend night, propose what you had in mind to a handful of folks, let word spread for 45 minutes, and leave with more willing and able folks than you’d anticipated within the hour. Or stay and play in one of the relevant rooms, if that happened to be the goal of the evening. It was simple and effective, allowing for a truly debauched act to occur within a very reasonable amount of time.
MARIA
We showed up on a Friday night in short pre-maternity bodycon dresses, unmistakably pregnant. We both kept a hand sensuously rubbing our respective bumps as we strutted into the place, doing our best to leave our horny intentions unambiguous. An aspect of The Cauldron we’d always found extremely useful was that it was separated into a downstairs and upstairs, with each having their own regulars. Years ago, we’d heard, the intention had been a distinction between gentler (upstairs) and rougher (downstairs) play. That dichotomy really didn’t hold true by the time we started patronizing The Sex Cauldron, but each floor having a distinct clientele had, for whatever reason, carried over. So, each of us had adopted a floor a few years ago. We could easily organize a challenge here, one of us taking upstairs and one down-, both of us having developed relationships over time with some of the regulars we’d repeatedly encountered. It almost felt like the place was created for a couple oddly competitive perverts like us.
SARAH
I ran into a handful of my old chums upstairs, reliable on a hopping night. They were happy to see me for the first time in a while, thrilled to see me knocked-up and looking to fuck. A preggo was a rare commodity in such a place, but a frequent item on folks’ sexual bucket lists. As such, it would not be difficult to marshal forces here. Maria and I had settled ahead of time on utilizing the club’s accommodations for our dalliances: our bedrooms and mattresses were modest in size, plus there was no need to try transporting a load of more-than-likely-inebriated perverts to our home. Initially, the central metric of this challenge was to be number of partners in the gang bang. We quickly came to the conclusion, though, that the number of people we could get to participate in this would be limited only by the number of folks allowed in the building by the fire code. In a sex club and with the possibilities provided by the internet, the number of people available to fuck is practically limitless. I suggested we count how many people we were concurrently engaged with on the bed at one time…
MARIA
…and I countered that that would be less a sexual feat than one of balance and coordination. We discussed measuring how many people we were touching at the same moment, but that felt similarly meaningless when a great many people could, for example, touch a contestant with a single finger at the same time. Ultimately, we settled on two criteria to measure these orgies: A) Number of distinct genitalia with which a contestant made purposeful (defined by being in clear pursuit of the goal of orgasm) and substantial (defined by having lasted no less than three [3] minutes) contact within any period of one [1] hour; and B) Peak number of genitalia either ensconcing or ensconced by a contestant at a given moment – “ensconcing” (or “ensconced by”) to be defined as encompassing (or encompassed by) no less than seventy-five percent [75%] of the individual in question’s genitals, anus, mouth, or an entire hand or foot.
SARAH
In other words, as far the second sub-challenge was concerned, how many parts of other folks could you fit in yourself while simultaneously fitting parts of yourself in other folks? And for the first, it was more or less a test of how many parts of yourself you could use for actions that judges would agree would eventually lead to a climax. Speaking of which, we were thrilled to find that both of our usual judges were in attendance at The Cauldron that night. These two enjoyed (to a sexual degree) observing and making decisions about miniscule details, making them ideal candidates for the job. We’d employed them in this way many times before, and they always seemed to appreciate being of such service.
MARIA
Rules, judges, and crews of regulars from our respective floors all ready to go, we went our separate ways to get started. To begin, my room contained roughly two dozen people, including myself. I got naked and got on my back on the California king-size bed. The eyes in the room were uniformly glued to my swollen form, and it felt great: it was nice to be so publicly naked and so nakedly desired. My friends followed my lead in shedding their clothing; I motioned for them to come forth and join me on the bed. They put themselves at my disposal, allowing me to push and pull them into position to be used as I saw fit. I got a fit blonde woman on her knees above my face so I could perform cunnilingus: better than a blowjob’s requirement of a ton of neck-bobbing, inevitably rocking one’s entire body. I focused on the clit with firm tongue and gentle teeth, as per usual and in keeping with our bylaws of sexual acts only counting if we clearly try to do things right.
SARAH
Have we mentioned our relationship to sleeping with women?
MARIA
I guess we haven’t; we are for it. Back to the gang bang: I tried to get two dicks per hand, first next to each other, then, when that failed due to physical realities, tip-to-tip. Tip-to-tip did technically work, but I found it so clumsy that it definitely slowed me down by more than 50%: as such, I was nervous the judge would ding me for lack of effectiveness with this technique. I settled for a set of genitals per hand, stroking and jerking a variety of cocks and cunts throughout the extravaganza. A lot of people came during the three minutes I gave them, either due to the amount of excitement they felt being worked by a pregnant person or from the fact that a lot of people were playing with themselves and each other on the sidelines in preparation for their short time with me.
[NOTE: In this type of competitive case in which a person has three minutes with a set of genitals in pursuance of an orgasm, it was long ago agreed that, should an orgasm occur prior to that three minutes expiring, it would be counted as a full three-minute period of sexual contact for the sake of the contest. You can’t penalize a person for working efficiently, after all. Nor can you blame a fucktoy for getting all hot and bothered on their own thinking about what’s to cum. -Maria & Sarah-]
MARIA [cont.]
When I got ejaculate on my hand, I quickly wiped it on my belly; I was shiny and sticky as hell in no time, a sight my friends and I were all consistently drawn to. Considering my body from arms down to pelvis, I initially thought I had my usual lack of orgasm-producing parts. Not so when in the family way! I suddenly recalled hearing of the fabled “bump job,” getting a person off principally utilizing a pregnant belly. This proved a real boon to my numbers.
SARAH
I didn’t remember the bump job on this one. So fucking stupid…
MARIA
Got myself stickier and stickier with those things; it was a nice new addition to the repertoire. In terms of the crotch and ass region, it was too hard to take a dick in both pussy and anus when laying down on my back. For double entry of that sort, one really should be on one’s hands and knees – thus taking one’s hands and feet out of the equation, entirely unacceptable in this particular situation. What I could take in both, though, were folks’ hands. It was uncomfortable on my tailbone taking a hand up the ass while supine, a very awkward posture to take. The only unfortunate thing about settling for the hand, asshole-wise, was that there wasn’t a terribly convincing argument that it was in direct furtherance of either my or the hand-person’s next orgasm. A hand in my pussy, suitably active and clit-focused, satisfied the requirement; the ass-hand, though, only met the criterion of having a body part inside someone else, not driving toward a climax. You truly cannot win them all.
SARAH
Have you ever tried using your hips for someone?
MARIA
How would that work, exactly?
SARAH
You could position a guy’s cock under your hips, then he could use the friction between your hip and the mattress for some potentially-fruitful humping. Never tried it, just occurred to me.
MARIA
Huh. Interesting thought. Next time, I guess. Next, down past my waist, I really couldn’t figure out how to make use of much of my legs. Even the feet felt like wasted potential, as I had to use both to jerk one guy off at a time.
SARAH
Why didn’t you get each foot in a different pussy?
MARIA
Calf cramps with the odd angles that put my legs in.
SARAH
Shit, that would really slow you down. I had a pussy per foot throughout, it went well for me. I tried to make the undersides of my knees work, but it wasn’t a consistent enough point of friction and guys kept falling out of the crevice when I moved incidentally due to the motions of my many other fuckings. Hand-in-ass worked for me, too, but I managed to get a dick thrown in me vaginally, pretty much the whole time. It was awkward, but goddamn did I want it. Could not resist, even if it likely subtracted from my numbers in the end. I guess this is the downside of having gotten horny listening to Maria masturbate while Maria got her horniness out over and over again via masturbation.
MARIA
I’m trying to envision how you did this, and it doesn’t physically make sense to me. You consistently fit a guy in you, with everyone else around in their various positions?
SARAH
They were the smallest men I could find, fortunately in terms of body size and unfortunately in terms of penises. And for hands…I used a trick I’m loath to describe here, as I don’t want Maria to steal it.
MARIA
We promised not to do that, Sarah.
SARAH
I know, I know, I’m not going to hide it. I just wanted to say: this has been a highly valued and guarded secret for years, and I hope you appreciate that I’m sharing it now.
MARIA
Okay, go on…
SARAH
Hands-wise, in an orgy situation in which we’re counting participants helped toward orgasm, it’s really not that hard to get one hand on two separate cunts.
MARIA
Shut the fuck up.
SARAH
No bullshit. They have to kneel directly to your side, right up close against each other. Like, faces touching, everything touching; doesn’t work if they’re tits are too big, even. As close as humanly possible. Then you reach out, wedge your hand in between their crotches, get a few fingers on each clit. Takes a bit of practice, but you can manage to maneuver adeptly enough to get them both off with the one hand. The judges have gotten right in there to check, and they’re on board.
MARIA
Fuck me. Brilliant.
SARAH
Thank you kindly. As far as a focal point’s mouth during an orgy goes, yes, it’s cunnilingus all the way. Blowjobs are far too disruptive, makes the entire endeavor more difficult. As I recall we were in our separate fucking rooms for about two hours all told, both running out of the energy and will to continue right around the same time, then reuniting in the lobby.
So! As far as the numbers go: for the first challenge, the number of people with whom we engaged in three minute periods toward orgasm, I got to 131. Lucky this was such a well-attended night at The Cauldron! And for the second, peak interesting body parts ensconced or ensconcing at once, I managed just seven. My pussy-doubling hand strategy didn’t even help, what with the 75% requirement for the ensconcing. Not sure how one would top seven, and I’m not sure pregnancy really changed the calculation there.
MARIA
Yeah, I got to seven myself on the second one. There must be other possibilities, but it can be difficult to manage two different criteria during the same challenge, as we’ve learned many times over. For the first, I’m embarrassed to admit, I only hit 88. Major disadvantage not being able to use my feet separately. And this two-pussies-per-hand thing is a mindblower. I knew your final number that night, of course, but I was always puzzled about how the hell you got there. Did you end up using your belly for anything during this one, Sarah?
SARAH
I didn’t, exactly, but the little guys fucking me sure did. They all held it nearly the entire time. I must say I enjoyed that. It did add a very different element to it all, a novel focus. I didn’t have the hands available to rub it myself, and few other participants were able to reach over and grab a piece. But I really liked the little guys gripping it. It felt special, unique when compared to past escapades. I was definitely looking forward to the bump coming into play more in the upcoming legs of the race.
MARIA
Yeah, I was really excited to both further expand and further experiment with all the changes. Fun stuff already, but a lot was to come, I was sure.
SARAH
Understandably, given the exhaustion resulting from our group efforts, we turned to smaller scale events next.
MARIA
Yes, the next string of challenges would be considerably more intimate. And we did manage to involve our growing bellies a lot more.
