Plague & Pregnancy

He came over around 8 o'clock in the evening and wasted not a moment before slapping both hands onto my sizable belly. This wasn't the first unsolicited touch the bump had received, but he may have been the first to not even half-heartedly apologize for his forwardness. He knew what he wanted and he went for it. It was almost admirable: I was pretty sick of "I'm sorry" as an attempt to make up for such a violation of my personal space. At least this guy knew what he was about.

Stephen did ask permission prior to pulling my top off over my head. We were still just barely past my apartment door, but I was now bare from the waist up (and, spoiler, I hadn't bothered with any underwear to meet my new sex friend). Based on how wide his eyes went, he very much liked what he saw. I could hardly blame him: I was looking pretty damn good by this point in my pregnancy. My bump was tightly firm, taut-skinned and blemish-free. My breasts were majorly pregnancy-enhanced, too, with wide, dark areolas and long-as-hell erect nipples. One of his hands pinched both of my nipples in turn while the other massaged my belly centered around my recently-achieved outie belly button. We stood there wordlessly for several minutes while he thus explored my nude torso.

Finally, he removed his hands from my body. "Bedroom?" he asked bluntly. There was no beating around the bush for this guy: just plainly sexual aims. I led him by the hand back to my bedroom and pulled off my jeggings prior to laying on the bed. Now that I was fully nude, Stephen could get good views of my thickened ass and unkempt pregnant pubic hair. He took in the whole of my naked form for a minute or so before taking off his own t-shirt, jeans, and boxer shorts. I liked the looks of his cock, probably 7 inches long and with average-to-impressive girth. I was thrilled that he was going to be giving it to me bareback; I couldn't wait to take this guy's load, wherever he decided to shoot in or on me. I was his for the taking, in other words, to do with as he pleased.

First off, he stood next to the bed while I sat on the edge. He was already half-hard when he removed his clothing; now I got him fully ready to fuck with my well-practiced hands and mouth. It felt delightfully and pleasurably transgressive to handle an exposed cock, to breathe the same air as a complete stranger in my intimate bedchamber. I was wet well before he got anywhere near my cunt as a result of the arousing situation in which I found myself and my new friend. Pandemic be damned: we were really going for it.

To start the fucking, Stephen laid down on the bed with his hard cock sticking straight up. I climbed atop him facing his feet and rode that dick reverse cowgirl-style for a few minutes. I liked the idea of letting my jiggling, bouncing ass be the initial view I provided him as we started humping: it'd be a very nice sight for him, I was sure, but I could still save the view of my main attraction of a belly for future positions. I steadied myself with one hand on one of his ankles as I fucked him, the other hand alternating between stimulating my clit and gripping my heavily bouncing belly. In the three or four minutes of utilizing this position, I managed to get myself off and work a decent amount towards a second orgasm.

"Switch?" Stephen eventually asked, presumably referring to our sexual positioning. In order to face him and ride cowgirl-style I had to briefly lift myself off his dick. I missed him inside me for the two seconds this took, but getting him back in my pussy felt divine once I lowered myself back down. I rode him thusly for another few minutes, bouncing a bit harder and faster this time. I'd continue to increase the speed and intensity of the fucking as we cycled through different physical orientations. Next was a bit of missionary. Then doggystyle, then into standing from behind.

Finally, with him still standing, I knelt in front of him to suck his cock to completion. Once he started to twitch orgasmically in my mouth, I pulled my head out of his crotch and jerked quickly with his dick pointed directly down at my belly. His whole body convulsed dramatically as he came; it felt like I was holding onto his shooting dick for dear life. My aim was true and he shot his load right onto the bump, thick pearly drops and stripes coating its upper half.

Afterward, we took a shower together to clean off. Before turning the water on, though, I commanded my new friend to lick my cum-marked belly clean. He obeyed quickly, getting on his knees and lapping up his mess thoroughly, enthusiastically. Once he was done, I turned the water on for us and let him further attend to the cleanliness of my belly. He washed me comprehensively and I loved every moment of the attention. By the end of the shower, his refractory period had ended and he was rock hard again. Hot water still spraying over us both, I got to my knees and gave him a quick blowjob.

I took this second load right in my mouth and swallowed it hungrily, the cum-desiring whim impossible to endure. I wanted a creampie, a facial, belly cum shots: I wanted semen everywhere, internal and external. I was going to need more perverts in order to achieve all these perverted goals.

Eight Months

Several weeks later and solidly into my 8th month, I had another internet-located fetishist over to my place for some fun. Cum-hungry as I'd found myself during my search for another man to fuck me, I was still all right with the fact the next guy (Isaiah) actually had rather tame intentions for our rendezvous. He really just wanted to worship and anoint my belly with scented oils and the like. I could accommodate such desires, I decided, and hopefully even convince him to pleasure me sexually once we joined together in an intimate setting. I loved the idea of being sensually celebrated as a fertility goddess, but would not be passing up even an outside chance of getting a dick in me.

Isaiah and I both wore masks throughout our encounter, as he suggested we should. While I was explicitly looking to be irresponsible, I still wanted to respect the wishes of the men servicing me. Isaiah did not want to get nearly as filthy as was my preference, though what he did want to do intrigued and excited me. Basically, he intended to not-so-sexually celebrate my pregnant body. There'd be viewing and rubbing and general exploring to both of our hearts' content.

Upon his arrival, we began things fully clothed. We sat next to each other on my living room couch and Isaiah placed a gentle hand on my round, blouse-covered belly. I offered to lift my shirt up for him to get a bare rub in right off the bat, but he declined and said he'd prefer we work our way up to the exposed bump. This guy was playing things seriously tame; it kinda did it for me, this reversal of the usual sex-forward perversity that went with most of my sordid pregnant affairs. As he tenderly touched the clothed bump, I found myself quickly getting worked up by the novel fact that there was so little to get explicitly worked up over.

He asked me about a million questions about my pregnancy and was fascinated by my every word in response. They were all very friendly and safe questions; he never inquired after anything pussy- or tit-related, for example. They mostly concerned how I was feeling about imminently becoming a mother, what kinds of symptoms I was dealing with, and what it generally felt like to be expecting.

His words may have been platonically polite, but the conspicuous erection straining against the crotch of his jeans told a slightly different story. Isaiah was a serious fetishist, apparently getting off on pretty much every aspect of pregnancy. For the moment, I'd try to take him at his word that he just wanted to look at and rub my belly, nothing beyond that. Knowing that he'd so quickly sprung a hard-on, though, made me rather hopeful that I could eventually steer things in a more sexually gratifying direction for us both.

After questioning me and exploring my hidden bump for 9 or 10 minutes, Isaiah finally asked me to lift my shirt and entirely reveal my abdomen. Another 6 or 7 minutes elapsed during which he simply rubbed me as my shirt stayed hiked up. As he rubbed, he paid particular attention to my prominent linea nigra and my recently-developed outie of a belly button. It all felt divine, but I still did desire more from my new friend.

Once he'd seemed to finish up with this part of the experience, I asked him if he'd like me to take off my top altogether; he seemed conflicted as he tried to answer, but was ultimately overcome by how appealing my generous offer was. I lifted my shirt up and over my head rapidly, before he had any chance to change his mind. I'd not bothered with a bra for this occasion, so taking my top off meant my milk-heavy breasts plopped nudely down onto the top of my big belly with a satisfying "thwap" sound.

Isaiah's eyes went comically wide at the sight of my bared flesh, his hands flying to my tits. He squeezed and pinched and stroked my boobs deliberately and methodically, taking in every bit of sensory detail as he went. As he continued exploring me, I continued staring down at the erection his pants could barely manage to contain. I was hoping he'd notice me noticing, a moment from which I could easily transition into taking his cock out for him.

After waiting for this to occur through several minutes of boob massage, I ultimately got impatient and just went for it: I grabbed his dick through his pants. He looked shocked by this development: I guess straightforward sexual gratification really hadn't been on his agenda for our little encounter, that he really didn't expect this to happen. He didn't utter a word of complaint, though, as I unzipped him and pulled his decent-sized cock out.

Isaiah kept rubbing my tits and belly as I began stroking him slowly and rhythmically. Jerking a guy off while we both wore masks produced an odd mixture of protected and vulnerable vibes; again, it kinda did it for me. I was seriously turned on, my non-cock hand soon drifting down to get in my pants and rub my cunt. Isaiah didn't physically follow my hand down there, but his eyes certainly tracked my movements.

We never made it to the part of our plan wherein Isaiah would anoint me with lotions: apparently, I skipped over some of our less sexual activities when I whipped his cock out, and there was really no shifting into reverse. There were no complaints from either of us, though, as we both seemed to be quite happy with what we were opting to do over more platonic rubbing.

With increasing velocity and insistent rhythm, I kept stroking him and rubbing myself. I felt Isaiah's cock starting to twitch about 5 minutes into the handjob; I managed to position him over the bump before he shot his load so that I could once again achieve an abdominal mess. He shot long and hard, coating a great deal of my belly with his cum. At the sight of his voluminous explosion, I got off, too, climaxing intensely in my other hand.

We both sort of collapsed after our respective orgasms: I know I was a bit exhausted from the exertion, and based on the size of the load he'd just expelled, I figured Isaiah needed a brief breather, too. He stared at the load he'd shot onto me; I used two fingers to casually trace lines in it, making more and more of my belly shine whitely with his semen. Isaiah seemed overcome by the experience, unable to do much post-orgasm beyond watching me. He hadn't expected or requested for things to go this far, and he seemed unprepared for how great an experience it had ended up being.

I by no means think he would complain about what had gone down: he was just a little shocked. Having myself harbored carnal intentions from the start of our rendezvous, I was significantly less surprised but just as turned on by the whole deal. Isaiah seemed shy, possibly even embarrassed post-climax; if he'd seemed more comfortable with what we'd just done, I definitely would've waited out his refractory period and tried to get that dick of his back in me.

As it was, though, I decided the kind thing would be to dismiss him from the situation that seemed to be overwhelming him. We shook hands as he took his leave, still playing things safe virus-wise despite the fact that I'd just jerked him off onto my baby bump. This mix of safety and intimacy was a real trip, let me tell you.

Nine Months

Right in the homestretch of my pregnancy, the first COVID vaccines came out. I got my first of two doses when I was solidly into my 9th month. The recommendations for using the drug during pregnancy were unclear, but I didn't really care: I wanted whatever protection it might provide, more permission to feel like I could continue to engage in sexually risky behaviors while I was still in the family way. I wasn't able to wait a few weeks to get the second dose before getting sluttier, as that would've put me past my due date. Hell, I wasn't even able to wait a whole 24 hours past my injection to start acting riskier than ever. At this point in my pregnancy and through so much sexual frustration, I was ready to get nasty as soon as I possibly could.

I wasn't about to require proof of vaccine from any potential partners. I kept my own vaccine card on me just in case, but I was nearly certain no one would be requesting it. I specifically drove to a more right-leaning portion of my state in order to find other individuals who might be taking the virus a little less seriously, at least precautions-wise. Now semi-vaccinated and finding myself surrounded by people just living their lives as though it were pre-COVID times, I was free to act slutty in a truly uninhibited fashion.

So, where should I go to most successfully cruise for casual dick? A fetish bar? Another glory hole? A porno theatre? None of these were readily available in the area I'd traveled to, it turned out; I had to settle for a run-of-the-mill grimy dive bar instead of anything that might more directly cater to my rare state and raging libido. Unfortunately, I'd have to put forth a bit more effort than I would have with the perverts at an explicitly fetishistic location. Thinking along those lines, I entered my chosen bar wearing just underwear, a sports bra and bump-hugging maternity panties.

My half-exposed gravid body was an attention-grabber from the instant I walked in to the dimly-lit establishment. There were just six or seven other patrons in the bar, and every one of their eyes was on me. All but one of the customers were male, luckily for me: there was indeed plenty of dick in the room.

I sat at the bar next to the least gross-looking guy and ordered a ginger ale. I angled my hugely protrusive belly and ample exposed cleavage toward him and tried to make eye contact to commence communication. He was staring at my body, but took a few moments to meet my eyes. When he finally did, I smiled and sensually rubbed the bump with both hands. "Hey," I said quietly. "Like what you see?"

I did away with any pretext of non-sexual aims, directly shooting for my target of taking a dick in this bar's sure-to-be-disgusting bathroom. Based on his bobbing head and drifting eyes, the guy I'd chosen to initially pursue was drunk out of his mind; I wondered if his cock was even functional at this level of inebriation. He made some vague noises in response to my direct query, positive-sounding noises that seemed to suggest he was game to fool around.

Naturally, one soused man didn't seem like enough to satisfy my sexual needs. Before I pulled him into the bathroom with me, I rounded up two more members of the bar's seriously-wasted clientele. They were all drunk to the point of being very suggestible, going along agreeably with my suggestion of a bathroom tryst. It seemed all I had to do was lead them to where I wanted them and position them how I wanted to fuck them. This was fine with me.

As expected, the bathroom was abhorrent, repugnant in both visual and olfactory arenas. It was absolutely perfect, a fittingly dirty locale for some dirty, irresponsible fucking. Once we were all inside, the least drunk of the guys would pound my pregnant pussy first, I decided; I'd bend over and take the dick from behind, then I'd be able to begin working the other two in the room with my hands.

I positioned everyone just where I wanted and got down to screwing and jerking. None of the three men seemed to mind getting dirty in the midst of other men, though none of them played amongst themselves, either. Maybe they were a little too drunk to feel embarrassment or self-consciousness, not quite drunk enough to experiment with homosexuality? I know things don't work exactly that simply, but it was nonetheless curious to me how they felt comfortable enough being serviced around each other to maintain their erections. And they did maintain their erections despite each other's presences, and despite all the alcohol they'd collectively ingested. It was kind of impressive.

I was so excited by all the dirtiness and cocks and lack of personal protective equipment that I didn't even think to take more than one of the dicks vaginally. I just let the guy that started off inside me finish there, just as I worked the other two guys to completion in my hands. When I started to detect an imminent orgasm from one of the handjobs, I transitioned into a bumpjob to bring them to climax against my belly and take the cum shot abdominally, as was historically my preference. I did this with both of my handjobs, roughly cum-coating each side of my bump in turn. Allowing him to finish inside me, I took a nice big creampie from my vaginal sex partner; he kept fucking me well past shooting, his load making a frothy mess of both of our hairy crotches.

When everyone had gotten off (including three orgasms for yours truly), I got my bra and panties back on but left the mess of cum on my belly as a sticky reminder of fond memories. I was exhausted from all the sexual exertion, unable to move on to another location for more cock as I'd initially hoped I'd be able to do. I'd driven rather far to find this mask-avoidant area of the world; it felt like a bit of a waste to pack it in after merely one four-way dalliance, but I was full-term pregnant and needed my rest.

While recuperating and attempting to plan my next sexual exploit a few days later, I went into labor. Dang it. Childbirth was as quick and as painless as these things get, luckily for me. I didn't have an orgasmic birth or anything, so I won't bore you with the less-than-sexy details.

Somehow, despite all my risk-taking behaviors, I'd managed to get through my pregnancy without contracting COVID. My preferences had leaned further and further into the realm of the risky, but I'd still rather miraculously failed to get sick. I had, though, developed even more of a taste for taking chances, especially when it came to sex. I wondered how long it would take me to get knocked-up again, especially given my newfound aversion to safe sex precautions. The pandemic would certainly continue right alongside my sluttiness, another pregnancy and COVID worries sure to ensue as soon as I started fooling with bareback cock again.

I welcomed all the consequences of my filthy actions, gestational or viral as they may be.

Bring it on. Cum at me.