Him and Her, Some More

"Before you know it," he continued, his voice cracking, and then found that he didn't know what to say.

"Before you know it," she said, picking up seamlessly. "They compare how big and round their tummies are, and then their boobs."

"Does the stripper girl have real ones, or falsies?" He cleared his throat.

"Big naturals," she said. "Very nice. Not as nice as mine, of course."

"Of course not," he said, and slid out of his chair so he could kneel before her, stroke from her pajama'd thigh to her belly, full and warm beneath his hand, to her breasts. "Yours are objectively perfect. The platonic ideal of tits."

Her breath came a little faster as he gently pinched her left nipple through the fabric of her sleep top.

"So maybe they show each other their boobs, and then they feel them," he suggested.

"Let me take over here, baby," she said. "I'm better with this girl-on-girl stuff."

It was true. When he'd been a butch lesbian, he'd been stone, or close to it, keeping his tee shirt and sports bra on during sex, and letting his mind wander away entirely when his lovers ventured below his waist. Manhood had freed him in more ways than one.

"They feel each other's boobs," she told him. "And compare them, and reassure each other that their changes are normal. The college girl bought a book about what to expect."

"Of course she did!" He laughed.

"And then one of them confesses to the other that she's just been so horny, that she never thought pregnancy would feel this good, even with the bloating and the big swollen tummy, and sex with you is even more pleasurable now."

"And I'm at work," he said. "So I can't help them."

"Yes," she said. "You are. When you get home, of course, you'll be expected to service their needs, but for now ..."

"Do you think the stripper remembered to bring her vibrator when she packed her things to come here?"

"I think she did. Rabbit style, for insertion AND clitoral stimulation."

He felt himself to stiffen down below. He told her. "You can't see it, but my big magic dick is burning a hole in my pants right now."

"I know it is, baby." She bent forward to kiss him, and to reach into the front of his pajama pants. "What do you want to eat for breakfast?"

"You."

She giggled. "I mean for food."

"I know what you meant."

"Can we have eggs or something first? I'm ravenous."

They scrambled up some eggs with cheese and scallions, which they ate, and then they ate each other, not even bothering to make their way upstairs. When they were done, they lay on the sofa, his belly to her back so they both fit. It was a near thing.

"So what's that poor trans dude doing while the girls are carrying on," he said sleepily.

"Playing your Xbox. And masturbating. And waiting for you to get home so you can have him up against the wall again."

"Damn," he said. "Poor guy. Maybe he gets curious about what the girls are up to."

"Maybe he does," she said. "Maybe they get curious about him."

"What are they curious about?"

"Well, the obvious, for one. Most people won't ever meet a pregnant man. You have to admit it's pretty unusual."

He shifted, a little uncomfortably. He understood intellectually why some men did the seahorse thing. A man suffered what he had to for his family. That was what it meant to be a man. But it wasn't something he could have tolerated for himself.

"And how do they satisfy this curiosity?" he asked her at last.

"Well, they try to talk to him, but he doesn't want to talk. So then they take matters into their own hands."

He kissed the rim of her ear and stroked her round belly. "And how do they do that?"

"Well, let's just say that he when he wakes up in the morning he's been tied to the futon frame."

"Oh my," he said. "Is he, um, naked when they do this to him?"

"Yes, of course he is. Well, except for his undies."

"Undies, ok. The little bikinis that gay guys wear, maybe?"

"Mm hmm. When he's still half asleep, he can hear them talking. One of them says, 'Do you really think he's pregnant?' And the other one says, 'I've never heard of a guy being pregnant before.' One of the girls says that big tummy sure looks pregnant to her, and the other one agrees with her. He's wide awake by this point and starting to fight."

"They'll have to calm him down," he says. "Reassure him. Rub his chest, run their hands up his legs, maybe."

"Oh, their hands are all over him."

"Maybe he starts to kind of like that. Girl hands are so soft and gentle. He's been with guys before, mostly, but a woman's touch is ... really, really nice. So he relaxes, and stops fighting so hard." He kissed her neck.

"They're very curious about his tummy. Because guys aren't supposed to be pregnant, but it looks just like theirs, and they're pregnant. Soooo ..."

"It's pretty embarrassing for a man, to have women talking about his body like that."

"I know. But there's nothing he can do. He's all tied up, and they've gagged and blindfolded him too."

"Aw, crap. Poor guy's helpless. They could do whatever they wanted to him." He ground his groin into her bottom.

"What a predicament he's in." She wiggled in response.

"Hmmm."

"One of them says some men just have a fat belly. Maybe he drinks a lot of beer. And the other one says no, look how thin he is everywhere else. Skinny arms. Skinny legs. Hard chest with those weird little scars. And then that big, huge, swollen tummy. The college girl says that if it's fat, it'll be all jiggly. And they decide to feel it and find out."

"Do you think he'll like that?"

"Does it matter?" she said crisply. "He's restrained for a reason."

He worked a hand into his pajama bottoms, knowing the post-nut clarity was going to be awful, and not caring. With his eyes closed, her words washed over him and the scenario began to play itself out.

**

The girls pressing and probing the poor man's distended belly, exploring his strained muscles, the surging pressure underneath.

"Oh wow," the college girl said. "It feels, like, super full."

"Yeah," said the stripper. "That isn't fat. There's something growing in there. It feels like it's about to burst. Hey. Stop wiggling. We're not hurting you."

"I didn't even think it was possible for guys to be pregnant."

"Maybe it was aliens. No, shut up. There are totally aliens. I watched this thing on YouTube. Maybe he, like, let himself get abducted, and then they, like, probed him? And did experiments on him? And now he's pregnant with a big belly full of aliens."

"Um, I don't really think there are aliens? But, like, there's so much out there we haven't explored yet, so maybe?" The college girl stroked the boy's belly from his ribcage to the stretched out waistband of his underwear, where she rested her hand. "Can you feel them moving in there? Do you think there are, like, tentacles? Aliens would explain why his tummy is so much bigger than ours. If it's tentacles, it might actually keep swelling up until it does burst. You never know."

"Ew," said the stripper. "That would suck. Mostly for him."

"I guess we'll have to, like, watch him and see what happens."

"They really are moving a lot. I think we woke them up. Hey, I wonder if it feels sort of nice for him the way it does for us. Even though it's probably tentacles."

"You should ask."

"Hey. Guy. We were wondering, does it feel nice when, like, whatever you have growing in your belly moves like this? Because it does, for us."

The boy gave a hard shake of his head.

"Are we hurting you? Do you want us to stop and leave you alone?" asked the college girl.

There was a long pause, and then the boy shook his head again.

"I wonder if his junk is like ours," said the college girl, "or if he has the other kind."

"Let's find out," said the stripper. "If it is like ours, that would explain A LOT."

"Do you want to untie his legs so we can take his, like, panties off?"

"No, go in the bathroom and find some scissors. If we untie him, he might get away."

The girls removing his skimpy briefs and tossing the scraps aside, then peering between his widespread legs.

The boy's chest rising and falling with his frantic breaths. His swollen belly squirming visibly.

"Oh wow," said the stripper.

"Oh wow," said the college girl. "Like, most of it's like ours, but look at that. It's like twice the size--"

"It's like a little thumb," said the stripper. "Aw. It's kind of cute."

"So if his junk's mostly like ours, he might have gotten pregnant the way we did, after all."

"He might have, yeah. Wow. That's totally slutty behavior, especially in a guy."

"Oh," said the college girl. "I don't like calling people sluts. It's so mean."

"Why?" said the stripper. "Some people are sluts. I'm a slut. And honestly, you were just a little bit slutty too. There's nothing wrong with being slutty. The world needs some good sluts. Sluts make men very happy. So were you? Were you a slut?" she asked the young man. "Did you let some other guy put his big thing inside you and come inside you and make you all pregnant?"

A slow, reluctant nod.

"See?" said the stripper. "I told you. Completely slutty. He was a slut, and now his belly's, like, full to bursting with another man's kids. That's what happens."

"So if he's a slut," the college girl said slowly. "If he's a slut, do you think he's as horny as we are right now? Because with the hormones, and the--the pressure in my tummy--Oof." She put a hand to her lower belly and made a little face.

"Let's find out," the stripper said briskly. "He looks like he's literally twice as pregnant as we are, so I'm betting he's twice as horny. Sit with him a minute. I'm going to get something out of my suitcase."

**

"So what does she get out of her suitcase?" he asked her. "The rabbit vibe?"

"Mm hmm. And something for his ass."

"Jesus Christ! She's going to kill him through overstimulation!"

"Just the little death, baby. Not the big one."

He laughed. "Poor dude's never going to get over this. Nothing normal is ever going to satisfy him again."

"So they put the vibe up inside him, and they turn the power to maximum. The stripper tells the other girl to put a hand on his tummy, just before it starts to bulge, and press a little, so they can see if his G-spot works like theirs does."

"And does it?" He shifted his hips against her.

"Oh, yes. Absolutely."

"So are they satisfied with that? Or do they need to tease his ass as well?"

"Of course they're not satisfied. It's a good thing they gagged him, though, because he's making a lot of noise. Moving his hips up and down as much as he can. Fighting the restraints."

"Poor guy. Helpless before those wicked, wicked girls."

"They ARE wicked," she agreed. "And they put it up his ass without any warning at all."

"Oh Jesus! Does it at least have the flared base? A ring to pull it out so it doesn't get stuck up in there?"

"Oh," she said. "Wait. No. Oops!"

He started to laugh. "Baby, you've got a mean streak. How did I not know this about you?"

"I hide it well," she said. "Ooof. Let me up."

He helped her sit up and then pulled her back into his arms, reaching around to massage her belly.

"Mmm, that's nice. Keep doing that."

"You're the one who's full to bursting," he told her.

"And who made me that way?"

"I did. You know what I think?"

"What do you think, baby?"

"I think that secretly, you're the one who wants to be tied up. And blindfolded. And to have someone--maybe me--talk about how big ... and full ... and swollen your tummy is. And how maybe you've got tentacle aliens squirming around in there. Because of all the ... probing. Or how ... maybe you were just really, really, really slutty."

"Mmmmmaybe," she said. "I'm not ready to confirm or deny that, but if someone--maybe you--wanted to try it, we could find out."

**

At their first OB appointment, when her tummy was already starting to bulge a little, he'd gotten a look at the screen before the tech had a chance to say anything, and seen the little beans nestled deep in her darkness, three of them, three little beans, and his knees had buckled, and if the chair hadn't been there to catch him he would have sprawled full length on the floor.

Fucking triplets!