A World Of Pregnancy Pt 02

*Contains Mpreg elements...

A World of Pregnancy: Gretchen's Adventures in Pregnant Dating

"Dating" while Pregnant

Now that I'm officially preggo, I'm gonna need to be pumped full of cum vigorously and often. I need as much semen in me as possible, swelling my belly more and more. The positive pregnancy test was two days ago and I've yet to be creampied since getting the good news. Simply unacceptable. So, I post an ad online:

"Looking for pregnant men. Horny as hell. Knocked up but not showing yet. Reply so we can fuck. Cum inside me, please. Not looking for a relationship of any kind. Perverts preferred."

Slutty and to the point! The responses come startlingly quickly. And I pretty much immediately regret the "perverts preferred" line. People ask to shit on me, piss on me, hump my throat until I throw up, call me "mommy" while we fuck, attempt the legendary DVDA (double vagina & double ass penetration - in terms of where FOUR DICKS would go!). And that is far from a comprehensive list.

I have to wade through some things I personally find off-putting (trying real hard not to be judgmental here), but there's gold to be found amidst the bullshit. Among the more attractive offers is from a preggo fetishist who's expecting himself, heavyset and charmingly eager. He's happy to have a casual hook-up into whom he can shoot his load. Six months along, his pics show off a nice bump: moderately hairy, nice and round, blemish-free and cute. I have him over. He asks that I hold his belly as he fucks me missionary. The bump is soft with fat, firm with baby, and all sorts of sexy. He sticks around to cum in me twice and gets me off a good half dozen times. Fun, fun, fun.

For a week or so, I manage a "date" with a different pregnant man every day. An awe-inspiring 9 month torpedo belly makes a glorious appearance. One guy brings his wife along to watch. The hairiest of the bunch insists on spraying his breast milk all over me before he fucks me, leaving me sticky absolutely everywhere. Someone disappointingly refuses to cum in me, opting to shoot onto his own bump and rubbing it in until his entire abdomen shines. It's a pretty nice variety of experiences. With each load I get inside me, I imagine my insides filling with cum, leading inevitably to my impatiently-desired swollen belly. I cannot fucking wait to start showing.

Meet-Cute

Two months into the pregnancy, I'm at the hair salon, and waiting for a haircut in the chair next to mine is a good-looking guy, probably mid-20s. To the eye, not a pregnant man (confirmed later). So, not someone I'd go out of my way to pick up ordinarily. He starts talking me up, though, with pretty obvious romantic intent. "I'm in here at least twice a week," he opens with. "Fast growing hair, I guess. Should probably see a doctor at some point." It's odd and funny; he gets a laugh from me right away. Introductions follow: his name's Wes, and he has no plans tonight. Our rapport is immediately comfortable, I like his directness, and I also lack plans for tonight. We'll go out for a drink at 8.

I get there 20 minutes early and order a tonic water with lime. Indistinguishable from a gin and tonic to anyone who didn't hear me order it. My thinking is I don't want this guy to instantly know about my pregnancy. Ordering a soft drink could lead to questions, and I don't want to lie, either. I found this guy quite charming at the salon and want this to be an actual date, not like the euphemistic "dates" of pure fucking I've been having lately. I don't intend to keep my secret for long, not even for the entirety of tonight. Leading with being single and pregnant via an anonymous screwing does not seem wise to me. I'll show him some of my non-preggo personality before I break the news, hopefully winning him over enough to prevent the pregnancy from scaring him off.

He arrives 10 minutes after me. I've barely taken two sips of my non-alcoholic drink, not wanting him to see a drink that needs to be refilled right off so he doesn't order for me and learn I'm not drinking alcohol (I've thought this shit through pretty thoroughly, as you may have gathered). He orders himself a Sam Adams and we start talking. Where we grew up, schooling, jobs, taste in music/movies/TV. We click like crazy. Not a ton exactly in common, but we feel like kindred spirits remarkably quickly. I'm nursing my drink extremely slowly, but it unavoidably gets low enough that Wes offers to order another round. "What are you drinking?"

The question I've maneuvered so diligently to avoid has finally come. "Tonic and lime," I tell him, and I decide things are going well enough that I should reveal my secret at this point. As soon as the bartender puts the drink in front of me, I dive into it.

"I'm avoiding alcohol, as my drink choice may have suggested. Because...I'm pregnant, actually. Just two months in, so [I pat my still flat abdomen] not obvious yet. I am single, have no connection to the father, just wanted to have a baby at this point in my life. So, yeah. If that's a deal-breaker for you, I 100% understand, no offense whatsoever if you don't want to see me again. I didn't want to tell you right off the bat because I wanted you to get to know me a tiny bit besides this one fact, and I kinda wanted to see if you were worth telling. And, to be super honest, I think you're very much worth telling. I feel us clicking, and it's embarrassingly early to say this, but despite my pregnancy, I'd love for this not to be our only date."

I exhale deeply and very audibly at the conclusion of the diatribe. Good to get off my chest, but I'm super nervous in the few moments prior to his response. He'd maintained eye contact and a kind facial expression throughout my monologue, so I let myself have a tiny bit of hope.

"Well, congratulations! You want to have a kid, you're having a kid; I think that's awesome. You did the right thing waiting a bit, I think. I'm not sure how I would've responded if you led with the pregnancy, but I am sure I've really enjoyed hanging out with you today and tonight. And it's not a deal-breaker, to be super clear. I was 100% already hoping I'd be able to see you again, and this doesn't change that at all. Now...I haven't been around anyone pregnant much in my life, so I may have some pretty stupid questions, just to warn you. Like, one you probably get from everyone who knows you're pregnant every single time you talk to them: how are you feeling?"

I'm positively elated at his response. We talk about my morning sickness, fatigue, and overall excitement. It's suddenly 1 in the morning. Sparks have most certainly been flying. We don't go home together, though; I'm not ready to broach the sexual aspect of my pregnancy deal just yet.

A Twofer

Three and a half months along, I'm visibly preggo, sporting a modest but pleasantly round bump fairly low on my torso, centered a bit below my navel. By this point, I've become a lot pickier as to which sexual possibilities I choose to pursue, having become bored with the more standard hook-ups. There's an ad online written by two pregnant men looking for a pregnant woman for a fun night. Two preggos at once?! I haven't encountered such an opportunity before, and I know immediately that I need to get in on it. Turns out they're a gay couple who've gotten way into pregnancy since getting pregnant themselves. For the first time, they have a reason to be interested in a woman.

My modest size is actually an asset for them, as they're both 8 months along and very aware of the logistical issues incurred when two very pregnant people try to fuck each other. With my non-gigantic bump not getting in the way, we'll only have to maneuver around one huge belly at a time (at least so long as they don't both try to fuck me at the same time). I love the photos they send beforehand: they've both got nicely rounded and perky tits resting on top of very sizable bumps. And both of their torsos are pretty thoroughly covered with thick, dark hair. Pretty much my ideal pregnant male form, and doubled to boot. Let's fucking go!

In person, they do not disappoint. They've unlocked the door to their apartment so they can just yell "come in" when I knock. I enter to find them in the first room, not an article of clothing between them. I don't give them the chance to say a word before I get seriously handsy. There are four shapely tits and two gigantic low-hanging bumps on offer, and they're all super hairy. My hands are flying around this embarrassment of sexy riches, attempting to take everything in simultaneously and immediately. They smile at my attention and both of their dicks are visibly stiffening. "Hello," I finally say. They return the greeting, I take off my dress (nothing underneath), slip off my sandals, and we head to the bedroom.

I lay on the bed with my legs hanging over the side, providing easy access to my pussy. They take turns with me, heaving their massive bumps out of the way (and delightfully resting them on my mons pubis) and entering me forcefully, thrusting quickly. One cums, the other steps in. Refractory periods are the only thing preventing the constant shooting of loads into me. Every ten minutes or so for three hours (an entire three glorious damn hours!!!) one of them cums in my pussy. Incredible stamina on display here. I can just about feel my bump growing with the volume of semen infusions. Before I leave, I schedule another session with them for the next week, just a few days shy of their due dates. I don't care if they're in fucking labor, I'm getting screwed extensively by these guys again before they lose their wondrous bumps.

Wes...in Bed

I'm well into month 5 of the pregnancy, my nipples very dark and sensitive, areolas expanded, belly starting to really swell out in just about every direction. Wes and I have been on 10 or 11 dates at this point. Aaaaaaaand we still haven't slept together. I know, I'll habitually sleep with anonymous men semi-publicly without a second thought, and I'm holding out on the guy I'm actually dating like I'm a goddamn puritan. I've been sort of honest with him, revealing I've been pretty horny and slept around before and during the pregnancy, and I want to make it different and special with him.

More than making it special, though, I really don't want to sleep with him until I'm comfortable enough to divulge my preggo fetish, as I don't think I'll be able to keep it from him if he fucks me while I'm pregnant. My hands are all over my bump during sex, I blurt out shit about filling my swollen belly with cum, and so on. I haven't had a random hook-up in weeks, feeling like it would be cheating on Wes at this point. So, I'm horny as all hell. It's time to disclose the fetish and get to fucking.

At dinner, I try to ease us into the topic, awkward and forced thought it may seem. I stroke my belly emphatically. "I've grown quite a bit lately, huh? Do you like my bump?"

He nods. "Yeah, it's super cute. Just like the rest of you!" He answers politely and sweetly. No revelation of his having a pregnant fetish himself, though that'd be a little too much to hope for.

I continue, more haltingly as I get closer to the point. "Do you think it's at all, like...sexy?"

Thoughtful-looking, he nods his head. "Yeah, I think it is. Curvy, feminine. What's not to find sexy?" I can't help but smile and eagerly launch into the meat of the matter.

"I find it really sexy myself, honestly. Really, REALLY sexy. I was super turned on by the prospect and process of getting pregnant, and now I'm turned on by my own pregnancy all the time. And pregnant men. I LOVE pregnant men."

He's smiling and nodding hesitantly. I continue so as to get everything out before I lose my nerve.

"You've been a real gentleman waiting so long before making a move to sleep with me. Thanks for that. I was kind of putting it off because I was scared to tell you about my...well, fetish, frankly. I'm a little obsessed with pregnancy. I didn't think I could hide how into it I am if we slept together, as it'll pretty inevitably figure into the whole sex situation. I feel really comfortable with you at this point, though, and I trust you enough to tell you about the fetish. Which, from my end at least, opens the door for sex. ASAP, if that's okay with you. Wes [I make meaningful, serious eye contact]: I'm very horny, and I need your help."

He laughs. "Well, I'm really glad you trust me enough to let me in on your passion for this. I've gotta admit I've never really thought about pregnancy like this at all, but I've also gotta admit that you really do look sexy as hell with that belly of yours. So, yeah...I'm game. I'm dying to sleep with you, of course, and I'm open to trying out whatever kind of pregnancy-related scenario gets you going." He squeezes my hand, punctuating his kind words with supportive physical contact. I might be falling for this guy just a little bit already...

We finish dinner quickly and get our asses back to my place. We're making out before I can get the front door open, his hands finding my burgeoning bump and mine finding his hardening cock. He's already playing into my fetish, and I'm simultaneously grateful for and turned on by his kindness and openness. In a blur we're inside, tearing off each other's clothes and ending up nude on the bed together. My sensitive tits explode with sensation as he takes both my nipples into his mouth in turn. He's rock hard, and I'm careful not to stroke too much or too vigorously so as to save that cum for when he's gotten deep inside me.

Moving his tongue down below my tits, he licks all over my bump, especially focusing on the belly button. Further down, he eats me out for a minute, eliciting my first orgasm of the encounter. Shit, orgasms with someone you actually care about have an extra level of pleasure to them! I'd almost forgotten. Fantastic!!! Finally, he enters me in the missionary position. We make out and he squeezes my tits as we fuck. "Cum right inside me," I moan as I feel his thrusting get irregular in the early throes of climax. I can feel him shoot right into me as he moans loudly, and I moan through my own second or third orgasm.

Post-coital, he rolls onto his back next to me. He massages my belly gently for a good 15 minutes, tenderly pushing in on it and gauging its relative softness and firmness in different areas. I'm just so glad he's showing an interest in something I love so much. Common interests are important for a relationship to succeed...

A Pregnant...Woman?

I'm 7 glorious months into my pregnancy. I've developed a nice tear-drop shape, carrying rather low (though I haven't officially "dropped" yet) and maintaining a remarkably round shape. My milk has come in, tits inflating substantially. Everywhere, flattering or not, is very visibly swollen. I love every damn bit of it.

At the supermarket one morning, I find myself reaching for the same box of cereal as another young woman. I quickly notice her advanced stage of pregnancy, and she mine. We smile at each other. Obvious chat ensues: it's both of our first pregnancies, she's a month further along than I am, we're both perennially exhausted. She asks to touch my belly. I oblige, lifting my t-shirt to allow full access. Her touch is tender, gently exploring my firmness and weight. Removing her hands after 30 seconds or so, she lifts up her own top for my benefit. I touch her smooth, stretch mark-free bump. It's really wonderful, and quite different from the men's bumps I've encountered. So very smooth, all sorts of curvy and feminine.

Hmmm...a woman. A PREGNANT woman. I've never felt sexually attracted to a woman before, but now my pregnancy fetish flares up to a fierce intensity. I'm having all sorts of dirty thoughts about my new friend here. I imagine her nipples are dark like mine, and I desperately want to suck the milk out of them. Her pussy is probably near-constantly wet, too. I want to rub it, and then probably lick it. I want to see her nude gravid form, goddess-like in its femininity. I want to fuck this pregnant lady. "Would you like to come over for a coffee?" I blurt. "Or...herbal tea, I guess, considering caffeine?" She accepts, smiling and nodding happily. I give her my address and she says she'll head over just as soon as she stops at the pharmacy next door.

I quickly check out and head to the car, where I immediately call Wes. I'm hoping the fact that I want to fuck a woman will outweigh the fact that I want to fuck someone besides him. He enthusiastically confirms that it does, and I'm good to go. I'm sure I drive far too fast on my way home, but I'm thinking about that wonderful feminine bump more than anything on the road. Back home, I quickly straighten up anything that seems askew. I prepare everything needed to make tea, all but starting to heat the water. I put out some cookies we have in the cabinet, spread out prettily on our fanciest glass dish. I feel desperate to impress, or at least not to blow my shot at this woman by some accidental lapse in decorum.

Fifteen interminable minutes pass, and there's (fucking finally) a knock at the door. We enjoy the agreed upon tea together. There's plenty of small talk and not a bit of it holds my attention. I'm wondering what her breast milk tastes like (I've already tasted mine, naturally). And how another pussy tastes (I've tasted mine...from my fingers: I'm not a damned gymnast or anything). How her breasts, unleashed from her bra, rest against her bump. Whether her belly has dropped low enough to eclipse her crotch. If she's kept her pubic hair well-tended, or let it go unkempt in its current difficult-to-access state. I want her to take her clothes off and let me explore her with my hands and mouth; she's talking about shopping for strollers.

I try to focus up: if I pay closer attention to the conversation, maybe I can steer us in a more interesting (sexual) direction. I notice her rubbing one specific part of her belly, and ask if the baby's moving. It is, and her shirt's up and I'm feeling the movement. I get lucky and feel my own baby move a few moments later, so I lift my shirt and implore her to feel mine. Bellies are bared: a step in the right direction. I comment on her lack of stretch marks, and point out the faint beginnings of them on the sides of my waist. Taking a little chance, I mention that I've got them worse on my breasts, and ask if she's got them anywhere else. She doesn't, and I can't quite see a reasonable transition for taking my top off.

Just one idea left, so it's last ditch effort time. It could get super awkward, but I'll almost certainly never see this stranger again, so who gives a shit? I speak quietly, feigning shyness: "Is your husband...into you, right now? I'm...well, I'm not...being satisfied, I guess?" Lots of pauses, turning a statement into a question; generally presenting as uncomfortable to allow her into the situation more easily. She blushes and shakes her head. I've struck out. We engage in a little bit more small talk, now far more awkward than before my failed attempts to get her naked. Finally, she leaves. I start rubbing one out before she pulls out of my driveway.

Looking on the bright side, I now know I have an attraction to pregnant women. At least pregnant women...maybe women in general? A few things absolutely need to be explored in the future. How exciting!

Wes Is Into It

I'm gravid, and I could not be happier to be able to apply that term to myself. I'm just about 8 1/2 months pregnant, and there is no question that my bump has dropped. It pretty much covers my entire crotch at this point, weighs me down every moment of every day, and routinely knocks plants and picture frames off shelves. Faint hints of stretch marks have multiplied and reddened. Swollen body parts are becoming more and more uncomfortable. It's all delightful to me, and I'm sad this pregnancy will soon be over.