Brimmingbelly04
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Three Pregnant Friends Ch. 2 UPDATED
🕑 Added 2023-03-11 02:21:13 +0000 UTCCHAPTER TWO
By then, it'd been over a week since Dylan had last driven his dark blue, Honda Civic coupe. As soon as he started getting in, he remembered why…. After basically falling into it backwards, his breasts and belly all jostling about greatly, putting the trench's buttons under even more strain, he belatedly realized that the small to begin with driver's seat was now a much tighter fit, and he wasn't even all the way in yet! But seeing as he'd somehow already made it more than halfway in, Dylan took in as deep a breath as he could, held it, and set to completing what really shouldn't have been such a difficult task…
By the time he got the door closed behind him, the heavily pregnant, relatively young man, was panting, had worked up a sweat and was already dreading how difficult and awkward it was going to be to extract his fecund self from being the wheel of his now super compact coupe once he reached his destination…
After triple checking if his seat was back as far as it went, and confirming that the steering wheel was telescope all the way in, which they both were, Dylan released a disappointed groan when he saw the front of his belly was still just an inch or so from grazing the bottom of the wheel! Recently, whenever he'd taken it or the Metro, he'd gotten a lot of double takes and blatant stares on the bus, but he quickly decided that all of them combined beat the hell out of elbowing himself in the belly, which he did several times in rapid succession as he backed out of his parking spot.
As such, right then and there, Dylan promised himself that the next time he needed to go somewhere he couldn't or didn't want to take the bus or train to, he'd get an Uber. Not just any Uber, but an XL, screw the surcharge, 'cause riding in privacy and comfort would undeniably and undoubtedly make it worth it!
As he turned out of his neighborhood, the twin-filled man couldn't help but wonder if the copious amount of hormones coursing through his bloated body had finally gotten the best of him? Almost instantly, the answer seemed more than obvious, and could therefore be the only true and legitimate reason he'd decided to venture back to the bathhouse so ridiculously pregnant, to say nothing of how he was dressed, if it could even be called such! Evidently, he'd given decision making up over to his "other" head, the one that'd come to be extremely desperate for attention and release, rather than his actual head, and what little sense it still contained.
Dylan had been to the bathhouse enough times by then to know what to expect, but was understandably anxious about this visit as it was obviously going to be different, to say the very least… As such, he was anxious to find out what it was going to be like when he got there and waddled in..? Would anyone be interested, or would they see his gigantic, stretch mark-riddled belly, massive, milk-filled breasts and now more often than not, leaky nipples, which were presently barely contained by his supposedly "sexy" getup, and run the other way? In fifteen minutes,good or bad, he'd get his answer.
Thinking back to previous visits he'd made to the sex establishment (at least the ones he could remember, meaning the one he hadn't gotten too drunk or high during,) Dylan could only recall seeing a pregnant guy there once. At the time, he'd considered said guy to be absolutely massive, and out of his damn mind for being there, but now, thanks to his own, present reality, he realized the guy had been a lot smaller than he now was and more than likely, nowhere near crazy…
Further thinking back, he remembered the expectant man, and who Dylan presumed had been his husband, had proved to be a popular "attraction…" While they'd started off playing just with each other, in relatively short order, the couple had invited others to join in, and to Dylan's surprise, it wasn't long before a long line of would-be participants formed, each waiting their hopeful turn to stick their hard dicks into either one of the holes the pregnant man had come to accept them in.
Taking in the sight proved intriguing enough for Dylan to temporarily halt his own search for cock. He even briefly considered joining the linge, already knowing he'd all but certainly be one of the lucky "chosen ones," but he chose not to participate… Now, the memory of "the show" he'd seen, combined with all the hormones racing through him and his own ultimate fantasy of getting absolutely plowed from both ends himself, had the now doubly pregnant man's own dick hard as a rock, to the point it poked up uncomfortably into his unyielding underbelly, its vast size and weight preventing him from being able to adjust himself as he drove.
"Get a damn grip, Dylan!" He chastised himself aloud as he came to sit at a red light, the fingers on his left hand drumming against the steering wheel as the ones on his right tapped at the same tempo against the tight and round top of his gut. "Don't get TOO excited… That guy was pregnant, but I'm super pregnant! Maybe too pregnant?!" He realized with a groan and a frown. "Fuckin' shit…"
Still, he remained somewhat hopeful… From his previous ventures to the bathhouse he could recall, he knew that a lot of its patrons were into much more than just regular old, plain, vanilla intercourse… Dylan had seen guys there in mass, leather, rubber and lycra getups, some wearing collars and/or leashes, and even a handful of "ferries" too… So maybe, what he had on under his trench might just tickle someone's fancy after all..? Whether he ended up finding someone interested in not, according to Oliver, Dylan was sure to at least attract attention once he made his entrance upstairs. Attention he hoped would result in him getting some very much needed and overdue release.
By that point, it'd been over five months since he'd had sex. When he last had, Dylan's belly had just "sprouted," and could still pass as one filled with beer, but the description and size didn't stick for long and within just a few weeks, his belly had grown significantly, to the point it looked undeniably pregnant, and then just kept on going and growing from there… Having become uncomfortable with and even somewhat disgusted by his bigger, more bloated body, Dylan figured others would feel the same, so he put his need of being sexually satisfied by someone else on the back burner and resigned himself to jerking off and using toys till the twins were born and he hopefully got his body back into something resembling its now former glory…
Toys and his right hand sufficed till he reached seven months and one week. Then, unfortunately, working his hole with one of his silicone phalluses became too difficult with so much belly to contend with, leaving jerking off as his only form of release since by then, Dylan was all but certain he was too huge for anyone else to find him desirable. Since it was all he could do anymore, the twin-filled man found himself jerking off as much as he had as a horny, high schooler. Also much like back then, Dylan was popping inadvertent boners all the damn time, but now more thanks to the twins putting more weight and pressure on his prostate as they grew and got heavier.
There was at least a bit of good news… When he reached seven months, Dylan was allowed to work from home for the remainder of his pregnancy, so at least he didn't have to embarrass himself in front of any co-workers. Oliver and Trent (whenever the latter was around) on the other hand, got frequent "shows," but since they were both expecting too, they were sympathetic, especially Trent, since the same thing was happening to him and even more frequently since he was pregnant with an additional baby. While he had and appreciated his friends' sympathy, the continued expansion of his seemingly limitless womb had the twin housing unit worried that before "the end," he'd get too be to be able to "handle" himself anymore, and two and a half nights prior, that's precisely what happened…
After maneuvering his naked bulk into bed, getting into position and then generously slicking up his trusty right hand, Dylan discovered to his unfortunately, unsurprised horror, that his pregnancy had finally gotten so large he could no longer grab hold of enough of himself to masturbate. Even when he pressed his forearm uncomfortably into that lower, unyielding side of his bulge, all he could reach was the head of his dick and the first inch or so of its shaft. Try as he might, and he really, really did, nearly throwing his back out in the process, he'd simply become so pregnant that he could no longer bust a nut by himself! Wonderful…
As he eventually began drifting off into what would end up being a restless sleep, Dylan prayed that somehow when he woke, his belly would be smaller, or his dick or right arm somehow longer so he could alleviate his already bluing balls. When he woke the next morning, needing to pee of course, also of course, his dick and arm were the same lengths and his belly no smaller. If anything, the life-containing sphere was actually a little bigger than it'd been the night before, oh the joys of a late term, multiples' pregnancy!
The next night, thanks to the dinner he'd had at Honey Pig with some co-workers, Dylan was forced to make even more frequent trips to the bathroom. Between that and hearing Oliver "having fun" in the next room over, he thought for sure he was going to die. Despite his stomach ache, he was still painfully hard and horny. If he couldn't jerk off anymore, he knew Trent couldn't either, but his best and even more pregnant friend had his fiancé, Eric to "take care" of him. While not quite in the same size territory as his multiples' carrying friends, Oliver had whoever was currently taking care of him while Dylan had no one and therefore, no relief…
Even though he knew he wouldn't succeed, he tried jerking off again anyway and unsurprisingly failed. Then and there, the very horny, very pregnant and very much single man decided to make a trip to the bathhouse he hadn't been to in months, before either his poor, bloated balls or horny brain exploded.
When he'd been in the past, Dylan had never worn anything up to the second floor where all the action took place, other than the small towel guests were given when they checked in. On the rare occasion he decided to get a little "gussied up," he'd worn a jockstrap instead of the towel around his waist as he cruised but now, knowing there was simply no way the towel he'd be given would make it around his substantially expanded waist, Dylan powered up his laptop to search for an "outfit" that could provide some coverage and support while hopefully, also maintaining easy access to his two parts that desperately needed attention.
He realized this was a tall order, but still hoped he'd luck out and find something that while somehow doing all of the above, would also look at least somewhat decent too. Dylan figured someone, somewhere had to sell what he was looking for and hoped that whoever they were, they'd be close enough to offer next-day delivery because now that he'd thought to go, getting to the bathhouse, where he'd have his best (and probably only) chance of getting off, suddenly became his top priority.
So even though it'd still been heaving as the twins continued to express their extreme dislike of Korean barbecue, Dylan set his computer on the wide shelf of his upper belly, right in front of his breasts. He opened up Chrome and in the search bar, typed in, "sexy paternity underwear," the query returning a surprisingly long list of results. He was quickly lost in a sea of images of scantily clad, expectant men, none of whom he found very attractive posing nearly nude with child or children as the case may be, yet his aching erection remained as he looked at guy after guy in some very different and unique "outfits."
Eventually, one of the more risqué images caught his attention. Hoping it might also catch the attention of at least one guy at the bathhouse, Dylan clicked on it and was taken to the seller's page. There, he had to guess as to what sizes he needed as the site only listed European ones. After adding all the various components of the getup to his virtual cart, Dylan realized he also needed something to wear to the bathhouse, that would fully cover him but be relatively quick and easy to get in and out of, so he switched over to the "outerwear" section of the site and found the trench coat that cost more than he'd wanted to spend, but was the only thing that looked like it might fit.
After adding it to his cart, he proceeded to checkout, where he begrudgingly consented to paying out the ass for next-day delivery. He almost canceled the order when he realized that the expedited shipping cost almost half as much as what he was getting, but told himself the extra cost would be worth it if it helped him get something up his ass again and a hand, or more preferably, a mouth, back around his dick and hefty balls, so he paid the hefty fee and placed the order.
When the anxiously awaited package had arrived earlier that afternoon, Dylan was just leaving the powder room yet again and was about to head back to the dining room where he'd set up shop working from home. Upon hearing the doorbell, he shouted down the long flight of stairs leading to the front door, for the UPS driver to wait so the package wouldn't get left on the front stoop, where it would have to stay till Oli got home and literally picked it up for him since the man carrying one more baby no longer trusted himself to bend over that much when he was by himself, due to the justifiable fear of tipping over.
Moving as fast as he could (which wasn't very at all,) Dylan "hurried" down the stairs to the door and flung it open. He'd gotten himself completely out of breath but fortunately, the man in brown had heard his request and heeded it. The doubly expectant, huffing and puffing man became happier still when he saw that he guy holding his package in his strong, tan hands, was quite the stud… Due to his lack of action, raging hormones and libido (to say nothing of his blue balls,) Dylan didn't do as much as he would've in the past to hide his admiration. Now he stared blatantly, visually devouring what he could see of the handsome delivery driver's muscular legs in his tight, brown shorts, his massive pregnancy unfortunately obscuring a good deal of his view.
Similarly, the hunky Hispanic driver couldn't help but stare right back at his extremely pregnant recipient, and how much his belly exploded out in front of him. Fortunately, between Dylan's bulbous middle and the giant box his purchases had shipped in, the good-looking driver didn't seem to notice the boner his customer had popped as his randy mind conjured up thoughts and mental images of himself accepting a package of a different kind from the tall, tan, beefy man standing before him but before he knew it, the driver had handed the box over and with one last stare, hurried on his way without either of them ever even saying a word.
Dylan was eager to know if the sizes he'd purely guessed at were going to work for him, but by the time he made it back upstairs, he was panting heavily, lightly sweating, and in need of getting back to work. He set the box down on the chair next to him, leaving it for later.
When Oliver got home shortly after five, Dylan rushed to send off his last email of the day, then shut his laptop and joined his friend in the living room, where they each took up a little more of their respective couches than they had just the day before. They talked about work, Oli complaining how unfair it was that he still had to go into the office, while his twice as pregnant friend griped about how hard it'd gotten for him to reach his keyboard when he sat at the dining room table (or really, any table now for that matter.)
Being somewhat more mobile and less encumbered, Oliver still had more energy than Dylan. As such, he planned on taking his usual evening stroll around the neighborhood, which he encouraged his friend to join him on but he declined, opting instead to take a nap there on the couch in preparation for his hopefully, sexually adventurous evening… Dylan told Oli of his plans and invited him to join him, as he had several times in the past, but the man with only one baby in his still impressively sized belly, replied with an incredulous "No!" and a loud laugh, thinking Dylan was kidding as he headed up to his room to change into something more comfortable to wear during his nightly waddle.
Dylan ended up napping longer than intended so for once, he was happy when the need to pee roused him. After emptying his bladder for the countless time that day, he took his box and headed up to his room to get ready. On the way, the aroma of pizza coming from the kitchen drew his attention, especially since he hadn't had anything to eat since his relatively light lunch. He managed to fight the temptation though, reminding himself it was too late to eat now unless he wanted to risk dealing with a potentially very embarrassing "situation" at the bathhouse, and since he was bound to experience more than his fair share anyway, he certainly didn't need to add any more!
Up in his room, Dylan set the box on his bed. By then, he'd decided he was going to go whether his new outfit fit or not, so he left finding out if it did for later and headed for the bathroom. Though he'd lost count of how many times he'd gone pee, Dylan knew he'd only gone #2 once, and that had been early in the morning, so he backed himself up in front of the toilet and then lowered himself onto it with a grunt. Quite literally packed as he was, it was often hard to tell when he had to "go" now as there was constantly so much pressure inside him, but considering the hopes he had for his long neglected rectum, Dylan knew he had to try…
When only a couple farts had exited following his first few pushes, Dylan thought he was in the clear. But then, another one ripped, inadvertently this time, and was quickly followed by internal movement. Though he ended up not going much, he did go and thankfully, the initial "clean up" that followed was relatively quick and easy, as leaning forward to wipe had come to be a challenge, as had so much else.
Once he was clean enough for the time being, the doubly pregnant man flushed and waddled over to his linen closet, not for a towel though, but an enema… Bracing himself against the counter, Dylan reached behind himself with his right hand and inserted the fresh bottle's lubed, plastic tip, wincing some as it entered. Once the tips of his fingers met his thumb, separated only by the deflated bottle, he straightened back up with a grunt, clenching his cheeks and hole as he lumbered towards the shower.
Dylan did his utmost to be as thorough as possible with his expensive, collagen-enriched body wash, straining more than his new usual to get as many of the hard to reach parts of his bulbous self as he could, all while keeping the enema in. His intestines continually protested having to contain the extra fluid, much as they had the Korean barbecue, but Dylan kept himself from releasing till the discomfort got to be too much, which just so happened to coincide with when he'd rinsed the last of his pricy body wash off… Cautiously, he turned around on the wet tiles till his ass was over the drain and then squatted a little, bracing his left hand on the wall as his right instinctively lowered to cup his underbelly. Dylan gave a push, sending the enema and whatever else remained in him shooting out in a gush that was loud enough to be heard over the shower.
Seeing as he'd just put his back under even greater strain than it already was getting clean, Dylan stepped carefully out of the shower and decided to wait for all the most hard to reach parts of him to air dry. Stuck there dripping onto the memory foam bath mat beneath him, he had nothing to do and no choice but to look at himself in the mirror…
Understandably, he'd been avoiding prolonged exposure to his reflection for some time by then, especially whenever he was naked, but since others were going to see him close to if not eventually entirely nude, he figured it was about time to take a good look at his bare body too. Dylan knew he was looking at himself but it was still hard to believe that not even eight months prior, he'd had visibly defined abs and a set of decently muscled pecs, as the body reflected back at him now looked like someone else's entirely from the neck down.
His arms and shoulders were still well-defined, now actually somewhat more than they'd been thanks to constantly working hard along with his legs to heave and heft his bulk around. Below and beneath them though, any and all trace of muscle had vanished, now buried under fat, babies, amniotic fluid and breastmilk. Unfortunately, Dylan's abs had probably been stretched to oblivion from having to contain, support and protect his seemingly limitless womb housing the large pair of boys, which it would continue to do for another entire month if things continued accordingly.
Sometimes, something can be so disturbing, disgusting or intriguing, one can't help but to gawk and stare at it, as was now the case with Dylan. He looked from the mirror directly down at himself, disliking pretty much everything he saw, starting just about at the top with his nipples…
Before getting so ridiculously pregnant, his previously useless (aside from providing pleasure) nubs had been somewhat larger than other guys' to begin with. Now that they too had grown and expanded like so much of the rest of him, Dylan's nipples were almost obscene in size! In preparing to feed babies they'd never have to since their carrier was putting them up for adoption, Dylan's nipples and areolas had not only grown monstrous in dimension, but had gotten significantly darker as well.
To him, they looked like massive, dark brown bullseyes, only someone with a weird, giant nipple fetish could've found remotely appealing… They'd grown so much that they still looked out of place capping off each of his now giant breasts, leaving the only thing Dylan could do was hope that once his body realized they weren't going to be utilized, they'd ideally return to their original state, if not at least one to something somewhat closer…
Dylan's nips were the literal tips of what he didn't like about his now incredibly fecund body. He also wasn't a fan of the heavy, round and increasingly full breasts they crowned, not to mention the fact he now had breasts at all! The more his twin pregnancy progressed, the more the "other twins" perched atop it did too… Not only were his breasts continually expanding, they were becoming more and more achy as they bloated with milk he refused to drain from them. Dylan knew that if he were to use a breast pump, he'd be able to reduce some of the discomfort and pressure, but doing so would make his body think it had started to feed, only encouraging milk production. So, even though his tits were getting more tender and engorged, and his nipples more sensitive and prone to leaks with each passing day, he refused to buy let alone use a pump, opting instead to tough it out in hopes he wouldn't get stuck with "giant milk jugs" as Oliver had referred to them, for too long after he gave birth.
Amazingly, while gestating an impressively large set of boys for eight months and counting, the doubly pregnant man's belly had yet to drop. Massive, heavy and now covered in stretch marks as it was, it remained high and round as ever, still supporting his breasts, which had come to need the help when he wasn't wearing a bra. Dylan's prodigious pregnancy bulged out in every direction, including to his side's, extending almost as wide as his broad shoulders. The orb was bisected by a tell-tale linea negra which continued to darken and get more pronounced the more his pregnancy bulged. Centering his belly, Dylan's formerly cute half-innie, half-outtie, had transitioned to a full-on outtie and then some, crowning the front of his giant ball of babies like the jewel on a Troll doll, but unfortunately, nowhere near as cutely.
The only part of his body he wasn't upset about expanding was his butt… Though he was strictly a bottom, he hadn't been blessed with as nice and round of one as he would've liked, no matter how much or hard he worked on the area, but then Dylan got pregnant and things changed. Of course, nothing ever comes for free, so his ass' expansion and rounding out had come with some tradeoffs, including the incredible expansion of his waist and the general thickening of his lower body. The latter, Dylan also didn't mind too much as not only did thicker thighs and calves help him stay mobile and remain more independent than someone of a lesser stature would've been had they gotten as pregnant as him and he had to admit that these now larger parts of his body actually looked good.
Despite his unintended condition and his evident fondness of the bathhouse, Dylan wouldn't go so far as to call himself a whore, though he obviously wasn't a prude either… Long story short, he'd been with several guys (not all at once, but in relatively short succession) back around the time it was estimated he'd conceived. He, Trent and Oliver all swore up and down that something must've been in the water all those months back, as the three friends strangely revealed to one another they were with child (or children) within weeks of each other. Over the years they'd been friends, there'd been occasional scares and plenty, rather blatant luck pressing, but never till they all did had any of them actually ended up pregnant.
Of the trio, Trent was the only one who knew who the other father of his offspring was. This was particularly fortunate considering he'd ended up expecting triplets! Since he didn't know which "lucky" guy had seeded his twins, Dylan frequently found himself wondering what he'd think if he knew what he'd done? Would he be proud of his "accomplishment," or would he be freaked out at being half responsible for his contribution in converting formerly desirable (in the traditional sense, anyway) body into an increasingly less mobile, ever-growing baby-making factory?
Had he gotten someone as pregnant as he now was, Dylan would've been horrified. Fortunately, that was never going to happen since he only ever bottomed. Despite that small but guaranteed bit of luck, he was still worried because potentially, he had another thirty or so days left of growing, gaining weight and stretching, and then the whole ordeal of labor and delivery to contend with before he could even start thinking about getting back to his "normal" life. Wonderful…
When he'd taken in as much of his reflection as he could without performing the equivalent of an advanced yoga position, the twin-carrier was mostly dry and finally ready to get "dressed." Twenty minutes later, after struggling to work his bloated form into all but the final component of his special outfit, Dylan stuffed said piece in one of his new trench's pockets, along with the three pack of condoms he'd grabbed at the store. All "packed up," he set to work slowly buttoning up the coat as much as he could. Then, ready as he was ever going to be, Dylan lumbered downstairs and back into the living room, where he asked Oli one more time if he wanted to join him.
Presently, the horny, expectant man was very lucky to find a parallel spot just a few doors down from his destination. It was tight, but he managed to work his now too tight for him two door into it without elbowing himself in the belly again. As he made his final adjustments, Dylan commended himself for being so mindful, because the last thing he needed now was to enter the bathhouse with not only a massive middle, but a heaving one too!
Successfully parked, he turned off his lights so he wouldn't attract attention as he awkwardly leaned over the shifter and center console, grunting as he opened the glove box. Blindly, he groped around inside, searching with his right hand for the clinker of vodka he'd stashed in there some eight-plus months ago… Even though he'd decided the moment after finding out he was expecting identical twins that he wasn't going to keep them, Dylan had still made sure to take good care of them till went off to their forever home, which included having not had even a single drink. According to his doctor, it would've been fine if he had one or two every now and then, but it wasn't till this "now" that he'd decided to imbibe because if ever he'd needed some liquid courage, it was now.
Once he'd found the small bottle, Dylan pulled it out and then shut the glove box, grunting again as he righted himself in his tight seats, boobs and belly all jostling around again under his tight trench, fortunately not bursting any seams or buttons. Before twisting the cap off the vodka, he checked his three mirrors and then looked down the street too, to make sure no one was around to see what he was about to do. Once he'd deemed the coast clear, he raised the bottle to his lips and tossed it and his head back, downing its contents in a single gulp because despite being out of practice as of late, old habits die hard…
"Shiiiiiiiit…" he hissed after he'd swallowed. "Wish I'd brought a cup of ice or a chaser!" He lamented as his bloated, nearly overloaded body gave an inadvertent shudder.
Even though he'd gained some ninety-plus pounds and counting since he'd last had a drink, it didn't take long for the vodka to get to work. A few minutes later, Dylan was pleasantly buzzed for the first time in a long time. The alcohol had done the trick: providing him with some of the courage he needed, so he opened his door, but not all the way, so he could keep a firm grip on it as he braced his other hand and the majority of his weight on the Civic's frame as he exited it, prodigious pregnancy first.
Once he was just about vertical, Dylan stopped, took a second to steady his fecund form on his swollen, spread, Crocs-covered feet, before moving out of its way so he could close the door behind him. Next, he waddled around to the back of the coupe, steadying himself on the trunk lid as he stepped carefully up onto the sidewalk, before taking a short break to suck in a final (hopefully) reassuring breath before heading off towards the bathhouse.
As he made his slow, ponderous (but slightly less than "normal" thanks to how tight the trench was) way, Dylan silently sent up one more prayer… He prayed that once inside, he'd find at least one guy willing to fulfill his sexual needs, 'cause he sure as shit (and then some!) needed them taken care of!
