An Mpreg Romance Pt. 02

I only had to blow for another 30 seconds before hot rope after hot rope was shot into the back of my throat. I swallowed and smiled, patting our guest on the belly affectionately as I stood up and got off the bed. "Well," I didn't really know what to say to him. "Thank you so much. You're just amazing, and that was so much fun. Right, Mark?"

Mark nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely incredible. Do you want to take a shower? We did get you pretty damn messy..."

Our guest started standing up, grabbing his clothes from the floor as he shook his head. "No, no need to shower. I like the mess as a fun reminder. I think I'll keep it for a while." Both in physique and attitude, this gentleman had very quickly become my hero. And just like that, he went to his car and exited our lives. Mark and I fucked like maniacs that night.

MONTH 4 - THE DATE

You're seriously large at 4 months with twins; we both looked like we were solidly within our third trimesters, had these been singleton pregnancies. Of course, the fact that Mark had a mere 2 months and I had 3 between these twinner pregnancies and our first, singleton pregnancies should definitely be kept in mind in every description of our sizes. Subsequent pregnancies create larger bumps in and of themselves, plus we'd given ourselves close to no time at all to get back to our pre-pregnancy sizes prior to getting knocked-up again. So, yeah, huge not just because of the twins angle, but also because of how absurdly close together our pregnancies were. Just thought I should put that out there among all the bragging about our double hugeness.

Having said all of that, we felt pretty gigantic and received the sort of public attention that solidly reinforced that feeling. We both liked the attention, turning into something of exhibitionists while pregnant despite normally modest personalities. There was something about being such early examples of pregnancy in men, I think, that drew significant amounts of attention and made us extra proud of our gestational conditions. Everyone wanted to get their eyes on us, and we flaunted what we were working with for them. Thus we enjoyed being out in public, leading us to make the decision to go on a date at a hot high-end restaurant (and request a central table, for a kicker).

We made our reservation for 8 o'clock, a peak business hour. Primarily, of course, we were out to enjoy each other's company in a special, fun setting. If we could enjoy each other in front of a bunch of gawking strangers, it struck us both as icing on the cake. We wore suits over button-down shirts, grey over blue for Mark and black over red for me. Our shirts were pre-pregnancy, our bumps very visibly straining half the buttons. The look seemed sexy and provocative to us, drawing even more gawking stares than more suitably-clad bellies would have. 

Once we sat down, it felt surprisingly easy to put aside the exhibitionism and ignore the attention: I was spending time with Mark, and I loved Mark. He became the sole focus of my experience (and that sure felt reciprocal). "Just over a year-and-a-half ago," Mark began once we'd been served our sparkling water, "I was in the process of trying to impregnate a woman. It seemed that was the only way to bring babies into the world...and it seemed I was entirely heterosexual!" We both laughed. 

"Yeah, the speed of things changing has been kinda mind-blowing," I replied. "Or, super goddamn mind-blowing, more accurately. I'm still kinda in shock over how much and maybe even exclusively I love dick, and I've already dealt with my share in a crazily short span of time. Many thanks to you and our wacky adventures, babe." He laughed and lifted his glass; we clinked a wordless toast and both drank. I leaned back after my sip of sparkling water, belly pushing out far from the rest of me. It was hard to resist, so I didn't; I rubbed my burgeoning bump with both hands, spectators be damned. "Can you believe we're not even halfway through?" I asked with a disbelieving shake of my head.

Mark shook his head in return and chuckled, his hands drifting down to his own pregnant belly. "No, I kinda can't believe it, honestly. Twins are pretty crazy, huh? We look like we're a solid 30 weeks in, not 15. We're going to get absolutely massive..." With that thought, we were both lost in silent reverie for a minute or two, stroking our respective bumps as we considered just how huge we would become over the next few months.

I finally broke the silence. "Should we have a contest? Who can get the biggest?" He laughed at my suggestion. "And no gaining weight on purpose. You might have the slight advantage, having been previously pregnant a month more recently than me. It'd be a good bet from your position. Unless you don't think you can compete with me."

This elicited a smile from Mark. "So what are the stakes?" he asked.

This question hadn't previously occurred to me; my proposition was revealed to be poorly considered. "Hmmm..." I stalled briefly. "...blowjob?" I suggested quietly.

We both laughed, and he delivered his more-than-fair comeback: "Right, like either of us can keep the other out of his mouth for more than a few hours! I'm all for a little friendly competition, but let's make it for something a little more rare. A night of childcare, maybe? The bigger one gets a night off from the kids?"

The stakes got much higher; I loved it. "You're on." We shook on it just as the waiter arrived to take our dinner order.

Our meal was delivered to us shortly thereafter, and things continued apace with good food and better conversation. "Let's go back to the park!" Mark blurted out of nowhere just after we were presented with the check.

I shrugged. "Sure, what the hell. Sounds romantic!" We went directly there after the restaurant, and once there directly back to the remote bench at which we first jerked each other off during our first pregnancies. I put my arm around my man as we sat our big pregnant asses there once again; he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Remember the last time we were here?" he asked dreamily.

I nodded at the pleasant memory. "Yeah, of course. Your first time with a dick!"

He chuckled. "I had so much to learn. You were so patient and kind to me. And we thought our little singleton bellies were so in the way of the jerking."

Now I laughed. "We did seem cumbersome at the time, didn't we? We're going to make our first-pregnancy-selves look like absolute fools in the next few months. I cannot wait." His hand was rubbing his crotch, which at 4 months with twins was already something of a physical feat to reach.

Apparently contemplating our first sexual rendezvous along with our imminent collective ballooning to record sizes really did it for him. I can't say I wasn't aroused myself, especially with the sight of Mark stroking his cock through his pants. I stretched my left arm down to pull my bump up and out of the way a bit, and began stroking myself right along with my partner. We watched each other like this for three or four quiet minutes, sounds of distant insects the only thing on my auditory radar. I unzipped, finally, and whipped it out. He whistled lustily; we both chuckled. He whipped it out, too, and I made exaggeratedly widened eyes at him to elicit another laugh.

We stroked our publicly exposed cocks for another minute before he reached over and took over for me. I was too cumbersome to manipulate my posture in such a way to jerk him off while he did me: instead, I leaned back dramatically to allow him the best access and allow me to best enjoy the handjob. He worked slowly and methodically, keeping his hand in the same rough position throughout. He knew exactly how I liked it, in other words. I came hard after about 90 seconds, majority of my load splashing right down onto my fancy pants. A filthy, hot shame that was.

"Your turn. Lean back," I uttered the first few words between us in the last 5 minutes or so. Mark assumed a position similar to that which I'd taken to be stroked by him, ass resting at the edge of the bench's seat to allow his cock to be as accessible beneath his large belly as it could be. Taking him in my hand, I tugged in distinct upward motions: just as I knew he most enjoyed. His moans were more than enough positive feedback to keep me going enthusiastically for 4 or 5 minutes. This technique took a bit longer, but was well worth it to so please my man. His orgasmic spasms sent rope after rope of cum cascading down my waiting knuckles. The sight of it was hot as hell to me at the moment; I almost hated to surrender the cum to the damp grass below the bench as I wiped my hand. Every drop was precious to me.

MONTH 5 - GRANT THE NEWBIE

Right around 19 weeks, we realized we both looked very much like we were full-term singleton pregnant. To celebrate this exciting and somehow not even halfway into twinner gestations milestone, we discussed doing a little something to give back to the Mpreg community. We settled upon lingering a bit after our next fertility doctor appointment to try to find a new patient sporting the telltale look of dazed wonderment indicative of a man's fresh positive pregnancy test.

Success came surprisingly quickly: we only had to loiter in the waiting room for 5 minutes or so before we put eyes on an ideal recipient for our attention. He was alone, 30-ish, still thin, and seemingly unable to fully close his recently dropped jaw.

"Hey man," Mark flagged him down with a wave. "Received some good news, huh?"

He slowed his stride and looked at the two heavily knocked-up faces smiling at him expectantly. He nodded slowly, apprehensively. "Y-yeah," he began slowly. "I did. I'm...I'm pregnant. It's just unbelievable. Though, from the looks of you I'm guessing you two can probably believe it, can't you?"

We both nodded at him; I extended my arm for a handshake. "Matthew. This is Mark. This isn't our first rodeo. Can we buy you a decaf coffee?" His name was Grant. His wife had undergone a hysterectomy some years prior; turned out he was the most logical choice to carry their child. Grant was straight, so this experience wasn't going to be a sexual one. That was just as well given our goal of doing a platonic service for a fellow pregnant man.

We settled in a back booth at a nearby cafe and finished up introductions before the more personal questions and answers commenced. "You guys must really enjoy being pregnant, huh?" Grant was a quick study. "Were you nervous at first, or were you into it immediately?"

Mark looked thoughtful for a few moments before answering. "I was pretty into it immediately, yeah. Or, at least once I started showing I was into it. Before that it all felt very theoretical and, sure, a little nerve-wracking. Once the belly starts to swell, though...I was definitely into that right away."

I nodded in agreement. "Yep. The knowledge of being pregnant was pretty cool right away for me, but I'm right with Mark that it gets really exciting as soon as you start to show. And it's consistently exciting going forward from there. The daily progress of it all is just fantastic."

Grant looked like he was about to start speaking, but stopped himself. He tried again: "Can I..." He stopped nervously, shaking his head slightly.

Mark and I both instinctively leaned in to hear our new friend, but he didn't continue right away. "Whatever you're going to ask if you can do," I reassured him, "the answer is almost certainly 'yes,' if that helps." Mark chuckled and nodded.

With a big breath in and a sigh out, Grant finally managed to come out with it: "Can I touch one or both of your bellies, by any chance?" He was sitting on the opposite side of the booth from us, but the table was narrow and our bumps were big. We both gestured openly toward our midsections and he leaned over and briefly touched us both through our button-down shirts. "Oh boy," he mused. "So firm. Man, these are really great. I hope I get this big and firm eventually."

"Oh, you will," I reassured him with a smile and a pat of my belly. "Definitely not as quickly as we have this time with our twins, but you'll get there. You'll be really pleased by your third trimester, I think."

Grant looked around the cafe for a few seconds; I followed his gaze and saw folks quickly averting their staring eyes as he made visual contact. He lowered his voice, clearly a bit self-conscious. "Looks like you two are quite the attention grabbers. How has that been?"

I found this question a bit sad: I was sort of hoping Grant wouldn't pick up on this potentially negative aspect of things so quickly. Mark stepped in to answer at an admirably full volume that made me instantly proud of him. "It's a mixed bag, honestly. I mean, I think Matthew and I are both very proud of our pregnancies and our bodies. Still, being stared at constantly doesn't tend to be super fun. Male pregnancy is certainly getting more common these days, but it's still far from an everyday sight. So people are going to look at you. We've all got to come to grips with that. It's inevitable. You do get used to it, to a degree. But it's not great."

"Okay, that makes sense." Grant pondered his situation for a minute. "When will the baby start moving inside me? And are people going to get handsy like they seem to with pregnant women? Will people just think I'm fat for a while?" He laughed. "Jesus, I'm sorry. The questions just seem to be spilling out of me..."

I patted him on the arm. "Not to worry, buddy. We know it can be overwhelming. Let's see here...you'll probably feel movement towards the beginning of the second trimester, if I remember correctly. People do not seem to go for the unsolicited belly touch with men as much as they do for women in my experience. And yes, people will think you're just gaining weight for a while. Then you'll get more definition in your bump, and soon it'll unmistakably look like a pregnancy. Which'll draw more stares, of course, but at least people will know the deal."

"You have a lot to look forward to, Grant," Mark assured him. "I know there's a lot of stuff that's going to be scary, as some of it definitely is. But so much is exciting. Like how you just asked about the movement inside you right alongside people staring and touching. There are amazing magical pieces of this, and shitty social aspects happening concurrently. You've just gotta take the bad with the good. Trust us, the good will win out. Why else would we have volunteered to do this again, and with twins no less? A pregnant man is an amazing thing to be. And parenthood is pretty awesome, too."

Grant looked at his watch. "Shit, I have to get going. Thank you both so, so much. This has been great and extremely helpful, like I became part of a community today. Much better than just Googling things at home on my own, which is probably what I would've done otherwise. I've got your numbers; don't be surprised if I'm in touch again soon!"

We said our goodbyes and Grant took his leave. Mark and I sat next to each other in silence for several minutes. "It really is magical, isn't it?" he ultimately broke the silence. I squeezed his leg and nodded with a warm smile, having been occupied by similar contemplations myself. Helping out a newly pregnant man did indeed highlight how amazing our situation was. I wish Grant the best and hope he's still doing well. Male pregnancy is wonderful, but it's far from easy.

MONTH 6 - SMOOTH & HAIRY

Around week 25, we both looked like we were overdue with singleton pregnancies. We certainly registered as pregnant to even the least practiced eye at this point, abnormally so before an observer learned we were both carrying twins. Just two massively gravid pregnant men enjoying each other's company publicly and privately.

Mark and I could not get enough of our own and each other's growing bodies. We were more than ready to be objects of lust for others, too, and we had the bumps to get it done. Thus, a trip to Motherhood was planned. Wednesdays were the busiest pick-up day in the men's section, an unofficial tradition that had been around since just about the start of male pregnancy. We'd done some picking up of others during our current pregnancies, but had yet to offer ourselves to be picked up. It was time; we put on our tightest and most bump-flattering yoga wear and headed over. Between us we sported a good six inches of underbelly cleavage: prime pickings for the Mpreg enthusiast indeed!

Arriving just after noon, the place was already bustling. Pregnant men and enthusiasts for the same milled around the weak pretext that was the clothing on display. Everyone's hands flitted through paternity shirts and pants as their eyes flitted across each other's paternal midsections and crotches. There were at least a dozen other men in the store, roughly half of whom sported conspicuous baby bumps. Mark and I stayed together, holding hands throughout our time there: we wanted it to be crystal clear we were a package deal.

We were pretty thoroughly cruised. Several men looked us up and down carefully before moving on to lone men without even close to the pregnant assets we were displaying. Maybe we were intimidating, both in the fact that there were two of us and in our sheer collective size. Though these were exactly the sort of perverts who'd love what we were putting out, so I was a little confused when it took us a whole 15 minutes to be talked up. When it came, however, it was well worth the wait.

It was two men who approached us; and they were both quite pregnant themselves. Not as pregnant as we were, unsurprisingly, but still very impressive specimens. One was six months along and the other was seven, we'd later learn, and they were a couple collectively carrying their first two children. The six-month man was physically-fit and wore a black tank top hiked up to just above his outie navel; he was baby smooth across the non-scalp or -eyebrow parts of his skin that were visible. We referred to him internally as "Smooth." The seven-month man was large, bearded, and wore a too-small t-shirt that showed two inches of his hirsute, plump lower belly. This was "Hairy."

We exchanged a handful of words; more than a handful of belly rubs sealed the deal. They took us back to their house, a ten minute drive from Motherhood's mall. A brief stop was made in their kitchen for glasses of water, then we quickly moved things along. We all disrobed as soon as we made their bedroom. Four big bare male pregnant bellies dominated the space; it was an amazing sight to behold, even more amazing to be a part of.

Smooth and Hairy asked Mark and I to get comfortable on our backs on the bed. We did so, our collective hands drifting down to our waiting bellies and cocks for a little self-stimulation. Our hosts watched us play with ourselves and stood nearby, eagerly playing with themselves as they prepared to make their move. All four of us obviously aroused, Smooth and Hairy finally moved toward the bed. "Lift your bellies for us?" Smooth asked upon their approach. Mark and I both complied to allow better access; Smooth mounted him, Hairy mounted me. They rode us in reverse-cowboy positions, rubbing their own cocks and bumps as they bounced facing away from us. This allowed relatively easy preggo humping, free from belly interference, but did make it so that I couldn't fully enjoy Hairy's hirsute bump atop me. Mark and I rubbed each other's bellies with the arms nearest the other, enjoying what pregnant flesh we could manage to grasp at the moment.

After 4 or 5 minutes of riding, Smooth and Hairy made eye contact with one another and rose off Mark and my cocks, switching partners and switching positions. They now rode cowboy style, bumps colliding with bumps all over the sexy place. I could reach Smooth's firm, fit, and hairless belly as he rode me. It was a real delight, as were his pleasantly plump but still perky titties. Mark seemed to be similarly enjoying massaging Hairy's bump and breasts as they humped.