A Life in a Daybymsound1©
I was a little disoriented when I woke up Saturday morning. I had a few vague memories of fucking some guy at a party, but it seemed more like a dream than anything else. Some lingering soreness in my pussy let me know that I had indeed been fucked pretty hard last night. I couldn't remember the guy to save my life though.
I know, it must sound pretty slutty of me to fuck some guy and have no memory of him the next morning. I'll even admit that I've had more than my fair share of casual sex, but I've never drawn a blank like this before. I wonder if he slipped me something. Asshole.
I shrugged it off. I enjoyed it well enough, and as long as he was smart enough to wear a rubber, I didn't really care. Having solved enough of the mystery to satisfy my immediate curiosity, I took a quick look at the clock. Ten a.m. Good thing I don't have to work. I considered catching another hour or two of sleep, but I thought that would be lazy even by my standards.
Getting out of bed might have been a mistake. A sudden wave of nausea hit me as a stumbled out from under the covers and I bolted for the toilet. Luckily, nothing came up. As I slumped to the ground next to the bathtub, I started to feel a little bloated in addition to my nausea. It was way early for my period, so I figured it was gas or something.
I started feeling a little better after a while, so I went to get some cereal. Normally I eat a light breakfast if I eat breakfast at all, but today I put away three bowls of cereal and a banana before I was satisfied. Corn flakes were as good a hangover cure as any.
After breakfast, I went through my morning ritual. Brush my teeth, take a shower, etc. I decided to say in for the day, so I threw on an old t-shirt and a cheap pair of panties. My room was a disaster, so figured now was as good a time as any to clean up. The nausea was gone, but the bloating persisted. It wasn't painful at all, I just felt really full.
About an hour later, I plopped down in front of the TV to catch one of my noon soaps. Yes, I'm a soap junkie. Sue me. Anyway, as I watched Carlos profess his undying love to his blind step-sister, I became aware of two things. One, I was becoming increasingly horny. Two, my gut was starting to stick out.
At first I was a little depressed. I assumed that I was getting fat and using Latin soap actors as masturbatory aides. I was a carton of chocolate ice cream away from a stereotypical menopausal meltdown. Around one thirty I guiltily threw together a sandwich. Standing up made my gut less pronounced, but I still felt fat. I poked and prodded my stomach, but it felt as taught as ever, just rounder. Weird.
Turns out that sandwich wasn't nearly enough. I added soup and some leftover pizza to the mix, which helped, but I still felt a little hungry afterwards. In addition to being hungry, I was still crazy horny. I'd never felt like this before. Usually somebody has to be doing something to me in order for me to get worked up like this.
I dropped back on the couch, wincing as the fabric of my t-shirt brushed over my nipples. I hadn't noticed until now, but the sensitivity of my breasts had skyrocketed. I cupped them through my shirt, savoring the sensation as I gently massaged them. Maybe I was imagining it, but they even seemed a little bigger.
One thing I was definitely not imagining was my belly. Four short hours ago I had the washboard abs of a swimmer. Now the bottom of my belly was threatening to rest on the tops of my thighs. If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn that I was pregnant.
I laughed. This was ridiculous. Even if I had gotten myself knocked up, there was no way I could go through half a pregnancy in four hours. This all had to be some weird side effect of whatever the prick that dosed me with last night. I decided not to let my imagination get the best of me and flipped on the TV.
A little before three, I got undeniable proof that something bizarre was definitely happening. Something in my belly...moved. Now I'd never been pregnant before, but there was no way I could ignore whatever was growing inside me. By now my belly was resting at the top of my thighs, sticking out slightly further than my breasts, which also felt fuller and heavier. Kick, kick, kick. Seemed like whoever or whatever was in me, it was in a hurry to get out.
I was freaking out. I'd gone through five months of pregnancy in as many hours. At this rate, shit. I thought my belly might burst open like that girl in Species II. Freaky shit. Despite all of this, I remained grounded on the couch, my fingers succumbing to the urge to stroke the front of my moistened panties. I couldn't really see what I was doing, but it felt like my pussy was a little swollen. I accidentally brushed my clit during my explorations and nearly fell off the couch as I was rocked by an instantaneous orgasm.
I lost track of the time as I continued to idly stroke my cunt. The kicks became stronger and more frequent as my belly continued to push its way out, stretching my flimsy t-shirt in the process. I considered taking it off, but I thought that actually seeing the ball of flesh that was expanding underneath it would make my situation too real. By four o'clock it became a moot point.
My poor t-shirt could no longer contain my expanding girth, and it slowly slid up my midsection, coming to rest just beneath my now impressive breasts, which I couldn't seem to keep my hands off of. Seriously, they had to be at least a double D by now, if not bigger.
I should have gone to the hospital, but even with giant belly and boobs I still remained convinced that this was some kind of fucked up dream. The baby didn't seem to share my attitude as it continued kicking its way to life. Aside from the denial, I was still way too horny to convince myself to leave the couch. A wet spot was forming on the cushion from all the excess pussy juice that had soaked through my panties. I finally pushed the fabric aside and started fingering myself in earnest, crying out as my ministrations were met with approving kicks.
By five I was exhausted. I'd climaxed more times than I could count and I felt like I'd swallowed a bowling ball. Along with the sopping mess that used to be my underwear, I was treated to yet another source of moisture. A pair of small wet circles formed on the front of my t-shirt, which quickly grew into large wet circles. Milk. I guess it was inevitable.
I felt disgusting. I was soaked top to bottom with breast milk and cunt juice, and I still wanted someone, anyone, to fuck my pregnant ass. What the hell was happening to me? Weary from the hours of masturbation and growth and dizzy with panic, I finally fell dead asleep.
I woke up around six-fifteen to find that I was now the size of a house. My belly had settled neatly between my legs, spreading them out at a ninety degree angle and my t-shirt was threatening to rip in two. I was convinced that there was either twins or a two year old bouncing around in my uterus. I hoped it was the former.
I started to freak out when the first contraction hit me. The pain wasn't bad, but knowing deep down that whatever was growing inside me was about to come out almost brought me to tears. I fought the growing need to push for as long as I could, but I knew there was no stopping the inevitable.
I waddled into the bathroom, ready to see whatever this was to the end. I could actually my belly slowly push outward little by little as I started to run the bath water. I swung myself into the tub, the weight of my belly throwing me off balance. I settled into the hot water, fingering myself furiously, waiting for this incredible day to come to a climax.
My fourth orgasm was followed by an earthquake of a contraction and I this time I obeyed the instinct to push. I was rewarded with another orgasm, each one more intense than the other. I pushed and pushed, feeling both excruciating pain and numbing pleasure as my cunt stretched wide to accommodate my offspring. Eventually the erotic agony was too much to bear and I blacked out.
I was alone when I came to. No baby, no alien, no alien baby, nothing. The beach ball belly was gone. The only evidence that I had ever been pregnant was my breasts. They were as full as I remembered, and milk shot out from my nipples in thin streams when I gently squeezed them. It was real all right.
The rest of the week was normal enough. I enjoyed the attention that came along with being a much bustier girl. One of my coworkers was bold enough to ask where I'd gotten them done. All in all, I decided my bizarre pregnancy was definitely a positive experience.
The very next Saturday I woke up late to a couple of familiar feelings. The first was the ache in my cunt that came always came along with a good hard fucking. The second was an increasing pressure in my belly. When I opened my eyes, I saw that my stomach was already starting to swell, well on its way to catching up with the full globes of my breasts. Kick, kick.
"Well," I said to myself. "Looks like it's going to be an interesting day."