Powerfully Pregnant Pt 04

*Contains Mpreg elements and a bit of magic...

POWERFULLY PREGNANT: PART 4

Chapter 7: Expecting & Escorting [Weeks 30-36]

I got a serious second wind of hormonal, horny pregnant energy right around week 30; it was awesome. As my belly grew, so did my sexual appetites. They needed to be sated, and I had a pretty fucking slutty idea that I just couldn't shake: I wanted to be an escort. The idea of getting paid for sex really got me going in the horniest, dirtiest recesses of my mind. It would, indeed, prove to be super hot in practice: it became common practice for me to leave my clients' cash on my bedside table well after they'd left, a tangible reminder of my (mis)deeds. I got off (thanks, right hand!) more times and more intensely just after each client left than I ever did with one, the idea of having been paid driving my libido to pregnancy-hormone-crazy levels.

Over the seven weeks or so I spent offering my sexual services, I found it a refreshing change of pace to be catering to other folks' desires rather than using my powers to realize my own whims. If I ever needed them, my powers were still readily accessible, of course; this brought me a good deal of comfort in the nerve-wracking earliest sessions. I serviced about five clients per week, I'd say, which, over seven weeks, means I had about 35 sessions total. I won't go into each and every encounter, of course, but I will go into detail with four experiences I found particularly noteworthy. Let's start with my first ever paying sex partner...

THE VIRGIN

I didn't really know where to start as far as offering my services was concerned. All the sites on which other escorts advertised struck me as rather dodgy, and I didn't want any legal trouble (or computer viruses). Perusing a pregnancy fetish forum for potential advice on the matter, I happened upon a recent thread begun by a young man in my area. He was asking if anyone knew of any pregnant escorts in his vicinity, and he was admirably open about the fact that he was looking to lose his virginity to said escort. This young fetishist seemed like a great client to start my adventure with, so I messaged him and set something up. Safety-wise, I had decided I'd meet clients at hotels or motels exclusively, which he was fine with.

The motel we met at was surprisingly decent: this guy wasn't pinching pennies, apparently. Not too shocking, actually, as I'd let him propose a rate for an hour of my time and he'd offered $500 (which I accepted, obviously). He shook my hand awkwardly upon opening the door to our room when I knocked, and he steadfastly avoided eye contact with me. We sat next to each other on the bed to ease ourselves into the proceedings.

I asked him exactly how experienced he was, learning he'd never even touched a woman romantically before. He proceeded to ask if he could see and rub my belly, which I promptly lifted my tank top to bare and welcomed him to touch. His eyes went comically wide as he explored my bump. Rubbing very gently to start, he was eventually pushing in on different areas, gauging my firm and soft parts. My belly positively enthralled him, keeping him busy for the first 5 of his 60 minutes.

He finally let go of me and sighed deeply in contentment, surely having just crossed off a bucket list item. "Could I see all of you?" he asked quietly. I stood up wordlessly and disrobed, tossing my tank top and mini skirt to the floor (no underwear for this escort!). Displaying all my maternal glory, I stood in front of him as his jaw dropped and stayed there. "Can I...can I touch you...all over?" I nodded.

"Of course, I love to be touched." I figured paying customers like their sex workers to at least pretend to be into the dalliance. He touched and rubbed me gently: breasts, unkempt crotch, ass, more belly. Seeming overwhelmed after two or three minutes, he sat back down on the bed, again averting his gaze.

"Would you like to undress?" I asked quietly. He nodded through a look of panic. "Start with your shirt," I suggested. This seemed to calm him a bit as he lifted his shirt over his head. The virgin had abs! I was impressed (and turned on, obviously). I massaged his torso softly for 30 seconds or so, my right hand eventually settling on his (very much visible through his jeans) erection. A tiny moan escaped his lips and his cheeks reddened. "How about your pants?" I asked. "You can keep your underwear on for now, if that would make you more comfortable." With a determined nod he stood and removed his pants. His hard cock popped right through the front opening of his boxers and his cheeks reddened further.

I purposefully caught his eyes with mine and smiled warmly, gently taking his cock in my right hand and cupping his balls in my left. "Well, might as well lose the boxers, huh?" He laughed awkwardly and pulled them down with one quick motion. I got to my knees in front of him and started working his cock with both hand and mouth. His orgasm would come very quickly, I was sure, but we had enough time to wait out a refractory period and have another go at the next erection. As suspected, he shot his load right onto my tongue after about 90 seconds of fellatio. Who could blame him? He'd never had his dick sucked and I was an oral master (not to brag or anything).

"We've got time to go again, honey, don't worry," I purred after swallowing. I got up from my knees and laid on my back on the bed, legs spread just enough to give a good view of my pussy. "Explore," I suggested. Kneeling next to me on the bed, he rubbed and squeezed my tits, played with my pussy until it was straight up dripping, and spent yet more time with my cutely round, early third trimester bump. The sensations of his caresses were delightful; I closed my eyes for a few minutes to take them in more fully as he continued to familiarize himself with my anatomy.

After six or seven minutes of this, he tapped my shoulder and I opened my eyes. He gestured toward his crotch: "I think I'm ready again." An erection had indeed sprung up again. This young man had a short refractory period, it seemed.

"Lay on your back," I instructed him as I heaved myself up onto my knees. His cock was sticking straight up, more than hard enough for entry. I rubbed my pussy for a moment to make sure it was still adequately wet (you better believe it was) and mounted him as slowly as I could manage, settling the entirety of my weight on his pelvis as I fully ensconced him.

"Oh my God," he muttered.

I rode him gently and slowly, up and down an inch or two using my thigh and calf muscles. He placed one hand on my bump and the other on my tits. I came after about a minute, moaning loudly as I caused his jaw to drop open once more. "This is fantastic," I said without an ounce of performance. This escorting thing was majorly getting me off; no need to fake it when I am actually cumming. Three or four minutes later I felt him start to spasm inside me. I bounced a little harder and faster as he came, a few soft moans escaping his lips.

Dismounting, I glanced at the clock. "We still have 20 minutes," I interrupted his post-coital haze. "Would you like to play with me some more? Maybe spend a little time with my pussy?" He nodded enthusiastically and we spent the rest of our hour together just as I'd suggested. I got off three more times in the 20 minutes: the kid was a natural.

THE MPREG

It felt like it took forever, but I finally got a pregnant client about halfway through my tenure as an escort. A guy, it turned out, which was always my preference: gotta get that cum! Probably good that men and their semen were my preference, as I saw a total of only four women professionally (more on a few of them in a bit...). I bring him up here, though, not because of his pregnancy, but because our unique session ended up feeling more like providing kindness to a fellow human being than the standard transactional fucking.

He found me via a posting I placed in a relatively safe (I did a whole lot of research) escort directory, and he was explicit about paying more for my companionship than sex. Though he also made it clear that nudity was definitely on the table and, if things went really well, he might be into a happy ending of some sort. So, I didn't really know what to expect as I knocked on the motel room door.

He answered in a light blue button down business shirt and khakis, still wearing his dark brown work shoes, even: he more than outclassed my slutty get-up, a black tube top and red mini skirt. "Come in, come in. Take the chair, I'll sit on the bed," he offered politely and I accepted. I placed a hand on his tight bump for just a moment as I passed him, unable to help myself in its immediate vicinity. This was clearly a big man even pre-pregnancy, under 6 feet but easily weighing in at 275 at the moment. You'd almost be able to mistake his 8 1/2 month bump for a beer belly, but it was just a little too elegantly round and protrusive at its furthest reaches. Watching him move, too, would immediately display the solid nature of the belly: there was no mistaking it for pure fat once I saw it in motion.

"So..." he paused for about 30 seconds, eyes lost in the distance. "Well, I'm uncomfortable, is the thing. Oh, not with you at all! Sorry, that was probably confusing. Never been with an escort before, but absolutely no issues with your line of work, and happy to be spending a little time with another pregnant person. That's really the point: I'm having trouble with my pregnancy, and I need a safe person to maybe help me work through my discomfort a bit. Does that sound possible, you think?"

I nodded. "Sure, I don't see why not. Are we mostly talking, then?"

He made a non-committal gesture with his head. "Well, a lot of talking, certainly. But seeing your body may figure into it, as well as showing you mine. Does that sound all right?" I nodded again. He began in earnest:

"It's a struggle with my own body I'm having, basically. You can probably tell I was already a pretty large guy even before the pregnancy. I used to have a lot of confidence in myself physically, though, fat or not. With the pregnancy...I don't know, I just don't feel it. It took me until midway through month 6 to show through my existing belly, but since then, the past two months I've just felt...confused, gross, even sort of freakish sometimes. Pregnancy on a man just doesn't feel natural to me, even as a pregnant man myself. I don't know exactly what to do about it, but I guess I just want to see pregnancy up close on an attractive lady such as yourself, maybe inspire something better in how I view myself. I've only got a few weeks left, but I'd love to enjoy my condition while I've got it, you know?"

I rubbed my exposed bump as I nodded. "Yeah, I think I understand. Maybe if you like pregnancy on me, we can figure out how you might like it on you, right?" His posture seemed to relax with my understanding, his shoulders lowering a few inches as he exhaled before smiling and responding.

"Yes, that pretty much gets to the root of it I'd say. I guess...it probably makes sense for you to undress, if you don't mind?" That did make sense. I kicked my pumps off and pulled my tube top off over my head as I stood, then pulled my skirt down and stepped out of it.

Fully nude now, I stood within arm's reach of him. "Feel free to look and touch as you please." He nodded, his face serious as he commenced his task. With methodically slow eyes, he looked me over from hair to toenails, over the course of several minutes. Taking my hips gently in his hands, he turned me around to take in the back of me. I faced away from him for a minute or two, then he stood up, slowly circling and occasionally leaning in for closer looks at certain parts of me. He payed special attention to the usual bump, tits, pussy, and ass; my waist, feet, upper arms and thighs seemed to interest him intensely as well.

He stood several feet away from me to take in the entirety of my hot bod, a finger on his lips in deep contemplation. I decided to use my powers a bit, just to get him into a position I thought would be more helpful. "I should look at you nude, too," I told him, and he instantly got naked in front of me. His thick dark hair covered damn near all of him: I couldn't even tell if he had any stretch marks. His belly had clearly dropped, hanging down and obscuring his pubic hair right down to where the base of his (respectably large) cock started. The bump was substantially fat-padded but quite round and shapely this late in the gestation; I loved it.

"You look amazing," I told him. "I don't know exactly how and where the pregnancy has made you grow, but you really do look great. In complete honesty, I would pick you up in a non-professional setting in a heartbeat. Seriously sexy." I didn't exercise my powers on this one, wanting instead to use non-magical reasoning to get him to a place of self-acceptance and self-confidence.

"Thanks for that," he said hesitantly. "How do you get over the body hair, though? It's so at odds with the pregnancy thing, not even similar to the smooth maternal shapes of the fertility goddess ideal. I liked my hair just fine when I was simply masculine; but with pregnancy being such a traditionally feminine phenomenon, the hair just sort of ruins the potential of my body's changes. For me, at least."

I took a few moments to think, rubbing his hirsute and surprisingly firm bump as I pondered. "Well...why isn't the androgynous aspect of it hot? You still look extremely masculine, trust me: no mistaking you for a woman. But then the pregnant belly is pretty solidly in the feminine column, as you well know. How fucking cool is that? Subversive, unexpected, sexy aspects within two seemingly contradictory categories?"

He walked over to the bathroom to look in the mirror at himself, occasionally looking back at me for comparison. "Hmmm. Yeah, that is hot. I've been really hung up on the fertility goddess female preggo image, I suppose. And the 'all belly' goal so many thinner expectant folks seem to have, which my weight made entirely impossible."

I had another idea and was unable to hide my smile as I presented it. "You know I'm not the perfect image of the fertility goddess either, right? And you still think I'm sexy?"

He looked me over for the 100th time. "Of course you're sexy. But you're pretty damn close to the ideal, far as I can tell."

I shook my head and approached him to present myself in greater detail. "You looked at my feet before, right? Is it super sexy for me to have such painfully swollen feet that I can barely fit into any of my pre-pregnancy shoes, or that they're in near-constant discomfort? You looked a lot at my waist and the widest parts of my arms and legs, too; so, you know I've got my share of stretch marks. That's pretty imperfect, considering the ideal of glowingly smooth, blemish-free pregnant skin. No one fits the ideal, really."

He examined and stroked my "problem areas" once again, nodding steadily as he explored. "Yeah, I definitely noticed all this before, but none of it detracted from your sexiness in the least. They're just parts of pregnancy, other aspects of what gave you all your fantastic curves." I nodded, happy that I seemed to be making some progress.

"Your hair is part of your pregnancy, as is the weight gain you've experienced. You say my imperfect pregnancy is sexy, and I say yours is sexy, too. I think you could find the mix of masculine and feminine sexy instead of confusing to your identity as a man. You're no less a man right now, and you're no less pregnant. Two things coexist in you, and it's magical and beautiful."

He smiled as he returned to staring in the bathroom mirror. For the first time since he disrobed, his cock noticeably hardened. "Wow," he noticed the erection. "It is pretty hot, if I can think of it like two aspects in harmony rather than in opposition. We're both pretty sexy, huh? I know we didn't definitively agree on any genital contact, but I would absolutely love to get each other off. I'm in the mood for the first time in two months."

He got me off twice, fingering me while massaging my clit. I gave him an efficient handjob and managed to get his load on both of our bumps. "Thank you so, so much," he said post-orgasm. "I think I can have a fun few weeks...and a ton of fun if I get pregnant again." He was right about the next few weeks: I got an email of gratitude from him shortly after he gave birth, detailing some of the many sexual exploits he'd managed at the end of his pregnancy. I was very, very happy to have made someone so happy. Awesome experience on every level.

THE LADIES

Two of my four female clients were pregnant, and they were close friends who came to me together. I was 34 weeks pregnant; one of them was 31 weeks (the brunette), the other 35 (the blonde). Pretty even playing field, though someone a bit less pregnant would've been nice in terms of maneuvering all these unwieldy bodies into sexual positions. They were platonic best friends, they told me, until they'd gotten pregnant close together and started sharing their gestational experiences with each other. Neither of their husbands gave them any sexual attention in their conditions, and their conversations eventually led to some experimentation. They absolutely loved messing around with each other's pregnant bodies, coming to me because they thought three pregnant chicks would probably be even more fun than two.

I'll jump right into the dirty fun we had, as the sex itself was the really fantastic part of this unique encounter. We were all nude after about a minute together. To start, they had me lie on the hotel bed so they could both explore my body. Four hands rubbed, squeezed, and prodded every bit of my engorged form, entirely to my pleasure. They made sure my tits could spray milk; they found exactly where the baby was resting in my belly; they compared their nipples' colors to mine; and they found every one of my stretch marks.

Apparently having examined me to their satisfaction after six or seven minutes, the blonde got into crouching position and began to eat me out, the brunette getting into position on the floor to eat out the blonde while playing with herself. Based on moans, I counted eleven orgasms between the three of us during this five minutes or so of cunnilingus and clit rubbing. Many more combinations of mouths, hands, and pussies followed. 69-ing occurred plentifully, as did fisting (a first for me [loved it!], but something at which they were clearly well-practiced). Thus went the first 40 minutes or so of our session.

I had plenty of orgasms and fun during that part of our encounter, but the final 1/3 was really the highlight. It kicked off when the brunette sprayed her breastmilk into the blonde's face, retaliation and laughter-filled spraying of each other proceeding from all three of us for a solid five minutes. I was very grateful we were at a hotel and wouldn't have to clean the sopping wet bed ourselves. We were all soaked and sticky by the end of our horseplay session, so I suggested a shower.

Our triple preggo shower together was an experience of pure joy. No sex was attempted: we just enjoyed all that pregnant flesh as we washed each other, chatting about maternity as we got to know the others' bodies in ever more intimate detail. Afterward, we sat on the bed and moisturized each other with baby oil and shea butter. It just felt so communal and loving, a real celebration of nature's reproductive miracles. I felt slightly guilty taking the money after this one, as I felt I'd gotten at least as much out of the encounter as my paying clients. I did take it, though: I am a professional after all.

THE TASKMASTER

My last client was another fetishist from the pregnancy forums, providing some symmetry to how my escorting career had begun. Besides being a fetishist like the virgin had been, though, this encounter had almost nothing in common with that one. This client had been with at least a dozen pregnant escorts (or so he estimated), and he knew exactly what he wanted. He issued commands to me with the same authority I displayed when using my powers of persuasion, and I responded unquestioningly in turn.