Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A certain line of work is called the oldest profession. And this may very well be true—who am I to argue with whoever’s responsible for passing down sayings like that?—but at the very least that job has a sister profession.

Most people probably don’t think of having babies as a job at all, but that’s really just a limitation of their perception. Ask anyone who’s had a baby, done the whole carry it to term and push it out thing, whether or not this was a job and be sure to report back what her answer is. They don’t call it labor for nothing.

Now, of course, there are women who take the baby-making-as-a-job a little more literally than others. Allison Tallum is certainly one of them. She can understand a metaphor or turn of phrase just fine as I’ve come to find, so it isn’t lost on her when people say being a mommy is a profession, it’s just that her circumstance might be a little more textbook than someone else’s.

Allison is a surrogate. A professional one. And a damn good one, too. She’s done this whole pregnancy-for-hire thing five times, which would be a lot for anybody, but considering a few of those involved back to back multiples, it really spoke to her mental and physical endurance that she kept signing up for more.

The first pregnancy was a singleton, of course. And it was planned, if that’s what you’re wondering. Allison’s best friend of over a decade, Kate, and her husband, Jack, had been married for two years and trying continuously to have a baby, but Kate struggled to ovulate and each month ended in nothing but tears for the two of them. It wasn’t even Allison’s idea for her to carry the baby. Surprisingly, it was Kate’s. And since any surrogacy program worth its salt wouldn’t allow a first-time mother to be a surrogate through IVF, they were going to have to do it the old fashioned way.

“But, Kate—that’s your husband. I’ve known Jack forever. Don’t you think it will be weird?”

“Please, Allie, all I’ve ever wanted was a baby. Do this for me? For us?”

“Okay. Anything for you.”

And so the child was conceived. And all it took was a few nights of bareback sex with her best friend’s husband around her fertile window. Nobody said this world wasn’t strange.

There’s no way to know how someone is going to react to a pregnancy. Allison couldn’t have known how she would feel. Especially not like this.

As the months rolled on after that first positive test, the changes began. Her flat, toned belly began to curve outward, almost imperceptibly at first, then enough that the skin itched as it stretched over her expanding womb. Her breasts ached, then strained against her bra, her B cups beginning to tighten around the billowing flesh. Even her ass and hips joined in on the growth, making it difficult to pull up the slim-fit jeans she used to wear every day. And all the while Kate and Jack grew happier and more excited.

Her belly grew larger and heavier, the baby quickly ascending through the upper percentiles in weight. Maybe this was because Allison was quite a tall girl, nearly Amazonian at an impressive 6’1”, or maybe it’s because she was allowing herself to gorge on any delicious food she saw fit. She wanted her friends’ baby to be large and strong, after all. And it was large. By the final month, Allison was lugging around a tight, stretched balloon on her middle, cradling the mass of her womb as she struggled to carry the enormous baby inside her. She was sure this kid was going to split her in half on the way out.

The baby, a boy, was just over nine pounds when he was born. In spite of the difficulty of the labor, where she huffed and puffed and grunted and screamed as she was spread open from the inside by a giant, unrelenting head, the moment she saw the joyous, tear-streaked faced of Kate and Jack holding that beautiful baby, she knew it had all been worth it. And she knew she wanted to do it again.

The next time, she did use a surrogacy clinic. And the next time, it was twins.

If she thought she’d been big with Kate’s nine pound boy, she was blown away but just how big she got with two babies inside her. Her breasts, still swollen and leaking from the first pregnancy, seemed to surge out in front of her in preparation for feeding not one, but two big babies. Her hips exploded outward, widening painfully until she was forced into a constant waddle and her silhouette was a dramatic hourglass shape. And of course—her belly. One baby had blown her up and stretched her out, but two babies simply transformed her. She lie in bed, propped up on a nest of pillows, her stuffed belly jutting out in front of her dramatically, and moaned sensually as she dragged her fingernails across the reddened and itchy flesh, white trails following the path of her digits as they raked across the globe of her womb. Inside her, two babies fought for space, their feet pressing out and making visible protrusions on the already tortured surface of her belly. She felt so absolutely full of life and loved every moment of it.

So when the next pregnancy came around and it was just another singleton, it wouldn’t be true to say that she wasn’t a little disappointed. It had felt incredible to have multiple babies moving in her, and to become so large, that she knew she wanted to have more than one baby per pregnancy from here on out.

The fourth pregnancy. No whammies this time. She’d known the joy of having twins and she didn’t want to go back to having ‘just’ singletons again. The surrogacy clinic supplied her with fertility drugs that would induce ovulation so she could get pregnant again for another family then inseminated her with the hope of getting her pregnant again. Needless to say, it worked. Maybe a little too well. Just six weeks later Allison found out she was carrying a set of triplets.

If she thought she had gotten big before, it was nothing compared to how she would get having three big babies inside her. Her body was primed and ready for triplets and she was going to take full advantage of it. She stuffed herself silly with every high-fat, high-calorie food she could get her hands on, her belly swelling up until it was measuring months ahead of its gestational age. At a mere 20 weeks, her shirts were pulled tight over the mound, the southern half of her belly always visible under the strained fabric of her shirts. Her breasts, though large, were perky and round on top of her belly, which itself was held up by strong, wide hips and thick thighs that jiggled with dimpled cellulite as she waddled. And the movement—god, the movement. Three babies prodded and jerked around inside her, sometimes making her moan even in public. Every now and then the babies would undulate inside her belly so dramatically that an innocent bystander would get a look at the roiling flesh, how it bulged and dented as her litter struggled inside her.

She loved being a massive creator of life, her entire body taken over by her desire to breed, her belly dedicated to carrying big litters of children that she could give to wanting parents. Her only concern was that as she approached the end of her triplet pregnancy, it was getting harder and harder to do things on her own. Each of her babies was hovering around 7 pounds, meaning that even the mere act of standing up from a seated position was becoming nearly impossible. She grunted and groaned with audible strained as she hoisted the stretched, stuffed bolder on her waist up to standing. And with her needing to eat so much to grow so many big babies, it was getting harder to take care of her expanding body all on her own. She was able to do it, but barely.

Which is why when she found out during her fifth pregnancy that she was carrying a whopping set of quadruplets she knew she was going to need help this time.

That’s where I came in. And just in time, too.

When I first met the ever-fertile Allison Tallum, I could tell she was already approaching her breaking point. I had been a caregiver for surrogates before, but none of them seemed quite as enthusiastic about their baby-growing as Ms. Tallum did.

The first time I saw her, she was reclined on her bed, her upper back propped up on a small pile of pillows. Her shoulder-length chestnut hair was neatly brushed and brought out the shining chocolate color of her eyes. On her lips was a sweet and maybe even somewhat sheepish smile, as if she knew that her condition was a little embarrassing. I didn’t think it was embarrassing, but I will admit I was surprised by the extent of it.

I was told that Ms. Tallum was 28 weeks pregnant, but she looked much, much larger than that. Her delicate hands rested on the massive upper curve of her belly, the mound dominated her entire lap with its size and shape. She didn’t just look full term—she looked full term with twins. Big ones. The very front of her belly was flushed red, the skin blushing with the strain of carrying four growing fetuses. A few red stretch marks were clawed along the sides of her belly, trailing from her navel to around her hips. I saw her attempt to shift her position in bed but was too heavy to move on her own.

“Good morning,” she said. Her voice was pleasant.

“Good morning,” I answered, approaching her bed. “I’m Kai Graves, I’m going to be your caretaker for the rest of your pregnancy.”

She gave a brief nod. “I’m Allison. Thank you for doing this, by the way. There’s no way I could do this on my own at this point.”

“Of course. It’s my job. And you’re having quadruplets, I doubt anyone could really manage by themselves at this point.”

She laughed. “It’s not for a lack of trying. I did my whole triplet pregnancy by myself, but just barely. And I made it as far as I could with these guys.” She patted her large belly. “But I make big babies so I tapped out early.”

“You made it farther than most,” I assured her. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good,” she answered. “I mean, as good as I can with four babies in me. The diet I’m on is grueling. All I do is eat. And every time I eat, I swear I can feel myself growing.”

Her fingers creeped their way under the hem of her shirt and she pulled the fabric up over the top curve of her belly, exposing the mound in its entirety. She wrapped her arms around it, fingers barely meeting at its apex, and gave a soft, almost pleasured moan as she dragged her fingers down and around its sides. Her belly wasn’t just large, it appeared incredibly dense. The way her flesh had barely any give under her fingers illustrated just how packed full of babies she was, every inch of her insides stuffed through and through with growing children.

“I can’t believe I’m only 28 weeks,” she moaned as she rubbed herself. “I feel like I’m gonna pop. I’ve never been this big before.”

I was entranced by her size, of course, the way her massive, jutting womb pressed her full breasts up towards her chin, but also by the apparent intensity of her condition. Her eyes seemed to roll back slightly as she rubbed herself, her skin multiple times more sensitive now that it was stretched thin over an overstuffed uterus. A bulge appeared on the surface of her belly and she groaned, reaching around herself to palm at the protrusion.

“Your babies seem active,” I commented, not taking my eyes off the thick mountain of fertile flesh in front of me.

“Very active,” she breathed, her head tilted back on the pillow as she palmed a circle around the fetal foot pressing out of her. The appendage sank back down into the hidden darkness of her womb and she exhaled through circled lips. “Would you be able to rub lotion on me? My skin is itching like crazy.”

I took the jar of cream from the stand beside her and sat on the edge of the bed next to her expanded body. Scooping some in my fingers, I began massaging the emollient substance at the apex of her womb, feeling for the first time with both hands just how large and full she was. Her skin lightened to white everywhere my palms pressed, darkening back to its usual frustrated red after a moment. Even through just my touch, I could feel how heavy her womb was, packed with children it was. It was no wonder she couldn’t move on her own anymore.

She hummed softly in pleasure as I touched her. “That feels good,” she sighed, her eyes closed. “This batch of kids is really filling me up.”

Her skin was becoming shiny with the lotion. I felt one of the babies move vaguely under my hands. “You must enjoy this job a lot to keep doing it,” I said.

“Mhm. I love having babies. I’d have even more if I could.”

A fetus thumped against my palm, almost as if it was rolling over inside her to press against me. “More as in more pregnancies or more as in more babies?”

She smirked, like she was pleased I’d understood some secret she’d hidden. “Both.”

I was almost hypnotized by the circling motions of my own hands, the way her belly was so large that I could move them both around and around and still never have them touch.

Another baby squirmed inside her and I heard her moan softly. My manhood twitched in my pants despite myself.

“You’d have more than quadruplets if you could?” I asked, using my thumb to make quick circles around her navel.

She nodded. Her voice was almost breathy. “Yeah. I’d love quints. Maybe sextuplets. Ohh…”

A few disjointed protrusions emerged on her belly as several different babies kicked and stretched inside her. She grasped the sides of her mountainous belly as if afraid it was going to burst on her.

“God, these babies,” she moaned. “So fucking intense when they move like that.”

I was undeniably hard now, watching this beautiful woman overtaken by pregnancy, her womb undulating with the movement of the many children inside her. I pressed harder into her flesh, my hands appearing tan on her pale skin, pushing back against the firm pressure of the babies squirming in her womb. Her hands joined mine in rubbing her belly now, the both of us enjoying how full of life she was, how overwhelming her fertility was.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, her eyes flickering open to look directly at me. Her gaze was surprisingly piercing. “You like this, too. You like a big, pregnant belly. You like a mama stuffed with babies.”

“I do,” I answered, my pants tented with my obvious erection.

“You like it when my babies move?” she asked, her tone and expression devilish in their enjoyment, her hands moving to the sides of her belly, her fingers splayed wide across the expansive flesh, so she could jiggle the mound in her grasp. Movement erupted on the surface of her womb, her children agitated by the shaking of their home.

I could only nod now. Words escaped me as I watched her flesh bulge, dent, and distort as the lives inside her deformed the mass of flesh pinning her to the bed.

“Then let’s make them move,” she hissed, her thick thighs spreading wide on the bed. “Make this big belly bounce.”

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her soft shorts, pulling them down over her widened hips. I was surprised to see she was naked underneath them, the lack of underwear revealing the soft tuft of pubic hair between her legs. As I pulled the shorts down her fattened thighs, she lifted her tight shirt up over her engorged breasts, revealing her thick, dark nipples atop the supple mounds of fat on her chest. She circled her fingers around the sensitive nubs as I undid my pants, as if she was so eager for pleasure that she couldn’t wait any longer. She bent her knees and parted her legs for me, inviting me to enter in to the warm folds between her thighs.

I lined myself up with her, the head of my cock teasing the slit of her entrance, nudging the sensitive bud of her clit. She moaned, both at the anticipation and the sensation of her belly movement, the towering womb jerking to the side as her babies thrashed in her.

“Please fuck me,” she begged, her voice raspy with desperation. She tugged her thick nipples, her head tilted back on the pillow. “God, I’m so fucking horny.”

I slid in to her easily, her body open and wet and ready for me. She groaned immediately and I felt her tilt her pelvis towards me, as if pleading with me to continue. I pulled out halfway before thrusting in again, her body jerking back as I did. Because she was so large, her body didn’t move all together, it didn’t move as if it was one solid piece. Her torso jerked back with her massive belly on a slight delay, her full breasts wobbling after the initial motion. I pulled out and thrust again, watching the rippling waves of her body.

She gripped her belly as her eyes rolled. “More, MORE!”

Her wet insides squeezed tight around me as I rode her, my hands holding her thick thighs open as I move deep inside her. She grunted with each thrust, her hands rubbing aimlessly across the tight landscape of her belly.

“Oh, god, my BABIES!” she wailed. “They’re so fucking big, oh god, and they’re moving, they’re MOVING!”

Indeed, beneath me, the tower of her belly shifted and jerked dramatically with internal movement, both the physical rocking and the surge of hormones from Allison sending her litter into a frenzy. She was practically bellowing at the sensation, her whole body assaulted from within by aggressive kicks and flips.

I felt my precum squirt into her and my cock thicken. Her feminine lips and inner thighs glistened with her juices, her clit thick and engorged between them.

“You want me to cum in you?” I panted, my skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat, my cock coated in a sheen of our fluids as it pulled in and out of her.

“Oh, god, yes,” she moaned, her hands cradled under the heavy lower curve of her belly as if to hold up its incredible weight. “Cum in me, give me even more babies. Make me a fucking octomom!”

The mental image of her swollen up with eight of my babies, her body pushed to its absolute limit, her womb a writhing monsoon of my children, sent me over the edge and I came hard inside her, rope after rope shooting into her excessively fertile cunt. She pressed her hips down hard against mine as she moaned low and hard, her own orgasm sending her eyes rolling back into her skull, her womb churning as her babies responded to the spike in hormones.

We both panted as we came down, both our palms making lazy circles on her giant belly. Her litter continued to shift inside her, though the movement was noticeably less intense than before. After a minute, I pulled myself out of her, a sensual mixture of both of us leaking out of her.

Finally, she gave a small laugh. “Sorry about that. Pregnancy hormones.”

“I’m not offended,” I responded, pulling my clothes back over myself.

“Good,” she answered, poking a fingertip at a protrusion on my middle that might have been a knee or a head. “Because I can promise you that’s going to be happening more often now. I am entering my third trimester, after all.”

I rested my hand on the peak of her belly, distinctly feeling the body of a baby that rested there. I could hardly imagine her getting bigger than she already was. But I knew she had a lot more growing to do. A lot more.

And I’d be there to help her the entire way.

Chapter Text

When it came to the day to day stuff, my job wasn’t that much different from an ordinary nurse. Keeping her clean, bringing her food, checking her vitals, and all the other tedium that comes with caring for a bedridden patient was on the docket for us. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the condition of my patient—and the nature of our relationship.

Since I had started caring for Ms. Tatum almost two months ago, a lot had changed about her physically. When she first came into my care, she was 28 weeks pregnant with a hefty set of quadruplets, and they were already testing her body then. At 28 weeks she was at least as large as a full-term triplet mother I had seen in the past, her massive, bulging womb protruding dramatically from her middle, her slender arms just barely unable to reach completely around the circumference that dominated her frame. Inside her, four large babies squirmed roughly, large enough even at the state that when they moved the surface of her belly distorted visibly, bumps, bulges, and dents deforming her large, heavy belly. Perhaps it's not clinical of me to describe it this way, but she was undeniably the sexiest woman I’d ever seen, especially because of how obvious it was that she loved being pregnant. Her eyes would roll in her head whenever the fetuses inside her moved, and she would beg me to grop, slap, lick, touch, do anything to stir them up so she could feel them within her body. Sometimes the pleasure of the movement would get to be too great and she’d moan in ecstasy, her engorged breasts spurting thick white streams of milk all over the front of her body, her stretched top darkening with moisture.

She was insatiable. And I admit, so was I.

The pregnancy marched on. Each day she grew larger and larger, heavier and heavier, her babies increasing in size seemingly with every passing moment. By 30 weeks the sides of her belly had swollen outward, now convex with how full of baby she was. If she had been able to stand, it would have been apparent even from behind how stuffed full of life she was. Her breasts continued to grow, to accumulate milk, sometimes painfully. I’d come in her room to find her with her watermelon-sized breasts dumped out of her top, her fingers working furiously to try to drain the pressure from her overfilled mammories, and I would be forced to dutifully, mercifully, latch on to one enlarged nipple while milking the other with a free hand.

She would lean back her head and moan in relief, the pleasure from this sucking would causing the active litter within her to struggle against the confines of her body, and with my other hand I’d reach as far as I could around the front of her belly, feeling the children within her bob up against my touch.

“My babies,” she moaned deliriously into the air, her voice hoarse and desperate. “They’re moving so much. God, they’re stretching me out.”

She had no idea how much they would stretch her.

The weeks rolled on. The babies grew. She grew.

32 weeks and the babies were now so large then even when they were totally still, sound asleep inside her, her tortured skin revealed each of their outlines, the shape of her belly no longer round or even oblong, but as visibly distorted as the uneven surface of a bolder. I would rub lotion all over the mound, feeling the hills marking the outline of a leg, the valleys of a bent knee, and without fail each time I would circle my palms around the shape of these babies, they’d sense my presence and get back on with their increasingly ceaseless activity. She could feel them starting up before I could, her sensitive insides receiving their squirms and kicks and punches directly, and she’d wail in a mixture of pain and pleasure as she desperately grasped at the parts of her belly she could reach, as if afraid they were going to burst out of her.

“Ohhhh godddd they’re moving againnnnnnn!”

A dramatic bulge tented the surface of her belly, a fist pressing up hard right above her navel. I leaned down and kissed it, loving how stretched and firm and full she was. I licked my flattened tongue around the stretchmark scarred skin, each of my hands grasping the sides of the mountain of flesh before me, gently shaking the overstuffed womb to deviously rile up the contents within.

Allison spread her thighs wide, her voice a long, caterwauling cry into the open air as her four fat babies churned within her. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she looked and sounded like she was giving birth.

“Oh, god, you’re making my babies move!” she howled, her voice desperate with pleasure. The front of her white shirt, stretched nearly the tearing around her giant breasts, began to darken with leaking milk. “These kids are gonna fucking burst out of me! Ohhhh god I’m so fucking FULL!”

Full. She was full. And she was getting fuller.

34 weeks. I was around her bedside 24 hours a day now. Even with her experience in high-order multiple pregnancies couldn’t have prepared her for the intensity of these massive, demanding quadruplets.

Her milk production set in to high gear with the birth of the children approaching. Her breasts, which had hitherto been the size and shape of prize-winning watermelons, exploded outward, so large that she could barely reach her arms around them, making relieving herself of the pressure from her milk even more difficult. She went without a shirt completely at this point. There was no reason for it at her size, and besides, she was constantly dribbling white fluid onto the shelf of her belly now.

Her belly. It was gargantuan. It went down nearly to her ankles and was marred with the dark red webbing of stretch marks. There was no amount of lotion or massaging that could have prevented or helped any of this. She was simply too big, too packed full of babies.

Her size didn’t stop her from wanting, from begging for, stimulation. She’d open her thick, meaty thighs and beg for me to fuck her, the hormones from too many too big babies sending her into a lustful frenzy where all she could do was think about sex.

“I need it,” she growled, almost sounding possessed, her belly undulating above her. “Oh, god, Kai, give it to me, I need it!”

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t at this stage. The stimulation from me being inside her could send her into labor, and she had just a little bit left to go before she was ready to push these babies out.

35 weeks.

Her belly was a constantly writhing mass of relentless fetal movement, the surface of her middle undulating like uneasy waves in the sea. Day and night she groaned and moaned from the intensity of the sensation, the burning of her skin, the distinct and definite sensation that she was going to pop. According to the scans, each baby was around 12 pounds now, four giant, heavy, powerful babies stretching her to her absolute limit, threatening to tear her apart with their size and strength.

“Soooo biggg…” she bellowed, holding each convex side of her mound in her hands, her fingers spread wide, her massive breasts pressed up against her chin. The babies struggled against her hands, pressing back against her palms through the now thin barrier of her skin. “Oh, god, I’m so stuffedddddd…”

“You are stuffed,” I said, joining her in placed my hands on her mound, moving my palms in large circles over her shifting belly. “You’ve got some big babies in here. They sure are active.”

She wailed, the top of a head pressing out against the underside of her navel, the already stretched and flattened button bulging out dramatically from the internal force. I leaned down and licked at it, the sensitivity of it making her gasp.

“You’ve done such a good job carrying these babies,” I assured her, shaking her belly from side to side, the mass so heavy that it took a considerable amount of my strength to do so. “Even when they’ve been rowdy.”

“I love being pregnant so much,” Allison moaned. “I love how packed full of babies I am. I wish I was carrying quintuplets…maybe one day I’ll get to be an octomom.”

I gave the underside of her belly a light, playful slap, the reverberations causing the fetus resting there to squirm roughly inside her. “You sure about that?” I teased.

She groaned from the intensity of the sensation. Between her open legs, her pussy lips glistened with wetness. She wanted me, and I wanted her, too. I was hard in my nurse’s scrubs, the outline of my cock visible through the blue uniform. I reached down and began to rub my index finger around the engorged nub of her clit, my touch causing her hips to twitch. I stroked up and down, listening to the purring sounds of her enjoyment, watching the muscles of her pussy clench and release as I touched her. She rubbed aimless shapes on her belly as I pleasured her, her babies bobbing up through her skin then descending back down into the dark depths of her womb.

“God, these kids are so big in me,” she moaned. “I’m never gonna feel this good again.”

“You will if we give you more,” I replied, moving my finger to circle around her wet opening, my free hand rubbing my hardened prick against my leg. “Is that what you want? More babies?”

“Oh, god, YES!” she cried, a corresponding surge of movement occurring inside her along with her rising voice. She grasped at the prominent bulges desperately. “MORE babies! MORE!”

Quickly, I got between her legs and pulled my scrubs down to my thighs. It was so difficult to get her hips propped up on enough pillows due to how heavy she was, all the commotion only aggravating her litter further. The whole time I maneuvered her she was grunting and groaning and crying out, clasping her belly helplessly as if afraid the babies were going to burst out of her.

Finally, I got her positioned so that I could enter her. I steadied myself so that I was at her entrance and began to ease in, feeling the tight, warm walls of her pussy immediately clasp around me. I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination or if she felt tighter than the last time I’d fucked her due to the pressure of all the babies inside her. She spread her thickened thighs for me even wider, moving her hips as much as her gravid mass would allow her, the shimmying motion of her body on me sending electric jolts of pleasure up my spine and into my brain stem. When I was finally inside her fully, I rested my torso against her giant stretched belly, the movement of the fetuses undeniable against my abdomen.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded, her voice raspy. She was so large I couldn’t see her face beyond her belly. “Please…I need to cum.”

I obliged.

I thrust in and out of her, slowly at first, afraid to hurt her, unable to see her face and having to rely on the sounds of her voice. I held on to her undulating belly for support, rocking back and forth against her distended womb. There was so much movement everywhere, on my palms, my forearms, pushing against my chest, my stomach, and it occurred to me that this was only a fraction of what she felt every moment of every day.

She was so wet against me, her natural lubrication was leaving dewdrops in my pubic hair. Somewhere beyond the mountain of her belly, her massive tits were bouncing from my thrusting, jerking back towards her face and threatening to smother her. I throbbed within her, precum already squirting deep inside her. Her belly shuddered with movement and I felt her clench hard around me.

“You’re gonna fucking pop me,” Allison snarled. “I’m gonna explode!”

Beyond her belly, I heard her howl, followed immediately by the most aggressive fetal movement I’d ever witnessed. Her entire belly deformed grotesquely, these four 12 pound babies thrashing wildly inside her, her already tortured skin stretching and denting and shifting from side to side. It almost looked like a set of invisible people were pushing it hard from left to right, up and down. She shrieked in pleasure as she came, her pussy squirting all around my cock, her belly jerking wildly in front of me.

The sight of it was enough to send me over. I clenched my teeth and groaned as I came, hard, emptying myself into her. It felt like I was coming forever, spurting into her tight hole while her overstuffed womb threatened to burst from the pressure inside it. Her cries died down just before I finished completely, her uterus still shifting in front of me, though less aggressively so.

I carefully pulled out of her, wiped myself off, then laid down on the extra wide bed beside her. She was still panting, even more out of breath than I was due to the enormous weight on top of her.

“Finally,” she said, “I’ve been waiting for that.”

“I know,” I replied, resting my hand on the top curve of her mound. “I have, too.”

We laid there for a few moments, me kissing her forehead, the both of us enjoying the comparatively gentle movements inside her, until I heard her taking a hissing inhale of breath.

Allison clenched her eyes shut tight, her hands flying to her belly.

“What’s wrong?!”

“So…tight…!” she gasped, clutching the mound. “I think…I’m having…a contraction!”

Next to me, I could see her monstrous womb shrink around its contents, the babies inside her becoming even more visible as the contraction pulled her flesh tight around their large bodies. She opened her legs instinctively as she felt the pressure forcing the babies down against her cervix, the first large head pushing head between her pelvis.

“Squeeze my hand,” I instructed. “Breathe through it. Don’t push yet, you’re not ready.”

“Ohhhhh god, it’s low!” she groaned, her fattened thighs trembling. “I wanna push it!”

“In and out,” I instructed. “Like this: hee-hoo-hee-hoo.”

She imitated my instruction, her mouth a concentrated circle as she resisted the urge to push down on the litter inside her. As her womb contracted, the babies thrashed hard against the decreased space, looking more than ever like they were going to split her in two.

“Hee hoo hee hoo…ohhhh god these kids wanna come outttt…I wanna pushhhhhh!”

“You’re almost done,” I assured her, her tiny hand clenching so hard around mind it felt like she might break it. “Keep breathing. Let it pass.”

She huffed and puffed for another few seconds before I saw the contraction let up, the surface of her belly relaxing as the muscles released their brutal clench. She let her head fall back on the pillow and panted.

“Looks like you really popped me,” she said, allowing herself to laugh softly.

“I think I did. Let’s get you ready to get these babies out.”

“You think I can do it?” she asked, smiling at me.

“I know you can.”