The Alien Incubator Pt. 03

I'm back to write about more of my experiences as I continue this year of alien surrogacy. Still horny, still slutty, still pregnant. Still bringing you all the sexiest highlights.

THE SEVENTH MONTH

Holy shit: the twins hatched inside me. I knew this was coming at the halfway point or so, but it was still quite shocking. There had been no detectable movement within me thus far, which was kinda weird in itself for being so massively knocked up. While I slept one Wednesday night, what the aliens had explained to me as eggs in my uterus hatched into very active fetuses. It was painless, luckily. But their movements did wake me up at about 3 in the morning.

The extent of the belly movement produced was startling yet fascinating. Ripples traveled across the whole of my bump, looking sort of like a shark was swimming just under my skin. Angular parts of the fetuses' bodies pushed dramatically into my outer reaches, frequently looking like they were about to poke right through my flesh. Movements toward one side of my belly would leave one half of me looking dramatically more swollen while the other half seemed to deflate like a balloon with a hole in it.

While not painful, all this tangible movement inside my body did tend to keep me up. I was probably averaging just three or four hours of sleep per night at this point. Additionally, it felt like I had to take another little break from sexual activity in order to get used to my crazily changing body again. How could I keep this intense, visible, and near-constant movement inside me a secret from a sexual partner? It seemed like people were going to be able to detect it through my clothes: they'd sure as shit notice it if they saw me naked. I had to get used to my belly's movements before I could expect myself to present them comfortably to another person. Hopefully I'd adjust quickly to my new reality and be able to regain my ability to engage in my ongoing hunt for pleasure. For the time being, I'd resort solely to self-pleasure.

The movement seemed to spark another extreme pregnancy symptom, too: frequent urination. This had already been a bit of an issue in the first half of the pregnancy, but was now at an entirely different level. For every movement detectable through my skin, another movement went in the opposite direction and poked right into my internal organs. My bladder being adjacent to my uterus, it absorbed a great many of the blows. I peed often and shockingly voluminously. It seemed my bladder may have grown in size in addition to being shoved around in there: the amount of urine I produced felt superhuman. What would be the utility in storing more urine during a pregnancy? That was a particularly difficult question for me to answer. Those crazy aliens that knocked me up: who could say what was in store for me next?

THE EIGHTH MONTH

I was terribly lonely during my belly movement-necessitated sexual time off. I needed to be serviced. Even more than that, maybe, I needed some companionship. I felt like I'd gotten comfortable enough with the visible shifts in my midsection to be able to explain them away to a potential suitor. Feeling particularly lonely as well as horny, trying to go on an actual date appealed greatly at the moment. I took to the dating apps to see what was out there.

Size-wise I was currently measuring a little bigger than your usual full-term twins pregnancy. Regardless, I opted to use a pre-pregnancy photo in my dating profiles. I didn't want to solely attract perverts: not at this particular point in time, anyway. Even once I started chatting with a few people I neglected to inform them of my maternal condition. It would be quite the point of conversation once we met up, I figured. And I just couldn't seem to bring myself to mention it conversationally before strictly necessary. Maybe this was shitty of me, but I really struggled to be honest about my pregnancy. I'd just have to see how understanding about my situation a potential date might be. My pregnancy-enhanced flirtatiousness may or may not serve me well enough to get over this awkward failure in communication.

I met a man named Dave for a date at a small Thai restaurant. Ahead of time I made sure they had chairs you could pull out from their tables and not just booths: my giant bump had to be accommodated. I wore a heavy coat to try to hide my physique as much as possible. It didn't work very well, probably not so surprisingly.

I recognized Dave as soon as I entered the place. He didn't seem to see me right away, so I approached the table he'd chosen undetected. "Dave?" I asked quietly when I reached him. He met my eyes, but not before unmistakably noticing my unmistakable baby bump. "Yeah," I muttered as I removed my bulky outerwear. I wore a tasteful beige maternity blouse and long navy skirt, revealing precious little skin save for lower arms and ankles. "As I'm sure you can tell, I'm quite pregnant. I hope this isn't a deal-breaker or anything..."

Dave sure looked stunned. He was silent for several seconds, then finally regained his composure enough to speak to me. "N-no, no, not at all. It's fine, it's just...kinda surprising, I guess? Why...You didn't mention you were...pregnant, did you?"

I blushed and shook my head, owning up to my little misdeed. "No, Dave, I didn't mention it. And I'm very sorry about that. It's really hard trying to meet someone while in this particular condition, you know? I didn't want to scare you off before we even met. I was definitely a little dishonest, though. This is quite the detail to leave out. So if you want to leave, that's absolutely understandable. If not, though, and you can get over the deceit...I think we've had good conversations online and maybe we can have another here tonight. Think you can forgive me, or are you on your way out the door?" I laid it all out as quickly and thoroughly as I knew how and placed the ball firmly in his court.

He chuckled for a moment before answering me. "This is wild. It's not necessarily terrible or anything, though. And I'm not angry with you. I think I understand why you'd hesitate to share this one bit of information with a potential date. I can get over it. We're just on a first date, I'm not committing at this very moment to being a father...am I?" He smiled.

I smiled back, laughing a bit myself. "No, no you're not committing to anything. Of course not. And I'll be honest with you going forward, okay?"

"Sounds good. How far along are you, if I may ask?"

"At this point I think it's within your rights to ask just about anything." He laughed. "I'm eight months along, and it's twins. Ladies don't usually get this massive with just one baby in there."

His eyes bulged. "You're really close to giving birth then, huh? Like a few weeks away?"

I nodded and smiled, rubbing my belly a little self-consciously. "Yep, getting pretty close indeed. Always a little nerve-wracking at the end, but this isn't my first rodeo. Birth's not quite as bad as people make it out to be, in my experience."

"Oh, this isn't your first?"

"No, third pregnancy. It's actually a surrogacy, as was my second. Do you know what that is?"

"I think I might, but I'm not clear on the particulars..."

"Basically, a couple hires me to carry their child. It's their kid or kids, biologically. I'm just pregnant for them, then hand them their child once I give birth. It's a decent payday and I liked being pregnant when I had my own daughter, so it was kind of a natural career move for me. While I can, anyway. It's not a forever-type job, of course."

He nodded thoughtfully. "That's really interesting. So you have a daughter of your own? How old is she?"

"She just recently turned four. Her name's Penelope."

"Nice, that's a cute name. And you're having twins this time, you said? Is that a very different experience?"

"Indeed!" I slapped both hands onto the belly. He chuckled. "My size is the most dramatically different aspect, as you might guess. Symptoms in general have been a little more extreme, too. Soreness, exhaustion, various things you'd definitely rather not hear about over a meal. You know, pregnancy stuff."

"Sounds hard."

"Yeah, it certainly can be. But I really do enjoy it still. Pretty magical to be able to create life inside your body. Twins is two lives instead of one, so doubly cool in some ways. Hardships, sure, but it is a great experience." It was nice to discuss such things: very reaffirming. "And, combined with this being my second surrogacy and third overall pregnancy, I'm being quite well-compensated for carrying twins. Not to be indelicate about such financial manners or anything..."

He waved away my concern. "No worries. It's really interesting. I'm glad you can support yourself with this since you enjoy it so much. No offense, but it looks like it might be hard to do many other jobs in this state of yours."

I lifted my bump in both hands and let it plop heavily back into my lap. We both laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty seriously unwieldy, doing most anything requires a great deal of effort at this point. Or is impossible, maybe more often."

"Dating's possible, though?" Dave seemed to be getting just a little bit fresh with me. I liked that very much.

"Sure, it's possible. I mean, there may be certain...activities that require a little more care and effort, but it's not terribly difficult to figure such things out. Some guys seem to be particularly...motivated, let's say." I lowered my voice. "Some people are actually sexually attracted to pregnancy, Dave. Ever thought about it in that context before?"

He smiled and lowered his voice in turn. "You know, I can't really say that I have thought about it like that. But you...well, you look really great, Elizabeth. Very, very attractive." I rubbed my belly slowly, hopefully seductively. "I think I might be motivated to figure this thing out, to use the words you've chosen." It sure seemed that Dave was in, sexually speaking.

Our meal came, conversation continuing haltingly as we ate. The food was great, the discussion titillating. I was better at flirting and whatnot when I was pregnant with an alien, it turned out once again. Maybe it was a function of my horniness, my mind kicking in to help achieve my libidinous goals? I wasn't sure, though hormones helping me convince men to fuck would be an odd pregnancy symptom indeed.

We wrapped up our dinner and headed to his apartment, having already close-to-explicitly discussed the fact that we'd be sleeping together shortly. I was feeling exhausted, so as soon as we entered his place I asked Dave if it was okay if I got off my feet for a few minutes. He asked if there was anything he could do for me. I considered for a moment and had a fun thought: "Massage my bump for me, maybe? Do you have any oil?" Dave had baby oil in the house, so we went with that. I sat on his couch and pulled up my top to just below my bra, pulling down the maternity band of my skirt to reveal the whole of the bump.

Seeing his eyes widen at the sight of my bare belly, I was briefly able to see myself as a first-timer might see me. I was fucking huge. Gigantic. The biggest I'd ever seen; probably the biggest preggo most people had ever seen. My size was, truly, inhuman. I really could imagine someone who had no clue about the alien angle using the word "inhuman" to describe the mammoth physique I was sporting. It had been a solid month since I'd been fucked. Was I too big now? I could hardly imagine how Dave was going to manage to get it in me. We'd just have to see, I supposed.

He thoughtfully warmed the baby oil between his palms before applying it to my bare flesh. It felt so good on initial contact that I moaned far too loudly, eliciting a tension-breaking laugh from both of us. His hands tenderly began the massage in little circles around my navel. He slowly enlarged the diameter of his rubbing and eventually covered the whole of my bump with an oily sheen. There was a tension within me between keeping my eyes open to watch him care for my shiny belly and closing my eyes to more fully take in the sensory experience. I opted for closing my eyes after happily watching for several minutes. As usual, a belly rub produced some seriously horny feelings in me. I interrupted his flow about five minutes in when I wordlessly stood and disrobed entirely.

I sat back down nudely, noticing the look of surprise on Dave's face. "You can continue if you don't mind, honey," I said with a hand on his shoulder. He dutifully complied. I couldn't help keeping my eyes open now, observing his eyes hungrily taking in my swollen everything. It didn't take long for his hands to start grazing my giant breasts and hairily unkempt pubic region, the former being especially unavoidable given the colossal amount of space they took up. Dave was producing a great deal of pleasure within me, my pussy getting wetter and wetter with his every touch. I rubbed my bump for a moment to get my fingers oily, then I closed my eyes again and one hand drifted down to start touching myself.

My massage therapist dropped the pretense of focusing on my belly once my hand was down at my crotch. He stroked my ample breasts and wide, dark nipples. His fingers joined mine in the exploration of my cunt: I worked my clit gently yet firmly while he slowly inserted two fingers into me. The finger-fucking that followed felt divine, my moans greater and greater in volume. I came with a hand on each tit and two working my pussy. My eyes re-opened to check out the look on Dave's face when I climaxed around his fingers; it was very satisfying to see his eyes bulge with my vaginal muscle clenches. With this orgasm came some significantly visible alien baby movements within me, an occurrence I'd worried might come up. I could tell Dave noticed and was rather fascinated, though it didn't seem like he knew enough about pregnancy to be alarmed by the extent of the belly movements. I was saved by his ignorance, as he naturally must've figured this was par for the course for an all-human pregnancy.

Once my orgasm died down he unzipped his pants and took his very hard cock out. He stroked himself for just a few seconds before I interrupted him to start stroking that cock myself. In short order I interrupted my own stroking to lean down and get him in my mouth. Leaning down was a bit of a struggle with this size belly attached to me, but I made it work at the expense of a little comfort. I very, very much wanted to suck his dick at this moment. He clumsily reached around me with one arm to continue rubbing my slick bump as I blew him, his other hand tucked below the bump to continue playing with my pussy. After two or three minutes he started to moan softly. I pulled my head up: "Don't cum yet, sweetie. Let's go to the bedroom."

We went to the bedroom and Dave quickly undressed, hastily leaving a pile of clothes on his floor. I climbed onto the bed and got into position for doggystyle, an impulse I decided to just go with. My belly rested heavily on the bed from this position; the tips of my hanging tits reached the blankets, too. I was glad Dave was quite well-endowed, as my fat pregnant ass protruded an extra inch or two from where he'd find my pussy and he'd have to overcome that additional cushion with the length of his cock. He took the obvious cue of my assuming this position, climbing onto the bed behind me and carefully entering me as he spread my ass cheeks for easier passage.

My wet and ready cunt took him in gratefully. I would've had a hand down at my crotch for clit stimulation, but I could neither comfortably support myself in this position with one hand nor comfortably reach my clit around the massively hanging bump. His hands rested on either side of my hips as he audibly thwacked his pelvis into my thick ass with each thrust. Dave fucked me in this fashion for three or four minutes before he resumed his moaning. "Missionary," I managed between my own moans as soon as I heard him. For his upcoming climax I needed him in a more advantageous position as far as cum-reception went.

I positioned myself on my back with my crotch flush with the side of the bed, ready to take him in missionary-style. Another impulse hit me before this could commence, though: "Go down on me?" I asked. He nodded, got to his knees next to the bed and began. I rubbed my still-oily belly and left nipple as he went to work. His mouth sucked and licked my clit as he put three fingers into me repeatedly. I recalled only being comfortable with one finger in me in the past, and thought about how great significantly more than that felt at the moment. He got me off in a mere two minutes or so of stimulation, my climax ensconcing his hand in muscle contractions once more.

"All right, fuck me again," I suggested once I could speak again. Lifting himself off his knees and to his feet, Dave held me from behind each thigh and got in my swollen pregnant pussy again. My belly collided with his abdomen with each thrust; he moved gently so as not to crush whatever was inside me. "Harder, it's okay," I told him. He obeyed, increasing fucking speed and thwacking volume. His hands drifted upwards to massage my belly as I held my tits tightly to mitigate the painful swinging that accompanied each and every thrust.

I approached orgasm very quickly, surprising myself when a Braxton Hicks contraction hit before my climax. My belly went ultra-tight in Dave's hands. "Whoa," escaped his lips as his thrusts ceased for a moment. "Are you okay, Elizabeth?"

I nodded vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, keep going please," I managed with little breath to spare. He kept fucking despite my alarmingly hard midsection. His humps got more jagged in rhythm and haltingly forceful. "Are you gonna cum for me, baby?" I asked. He nodded and grunted. "Cum on my belly" was more of a command than a request. Dave pulled out of my cunt and positioned the head of his cock right above the center of my super-firm belly. Finishing himself with a quick motion of his right hand, he shot rope after hot rope onto my still-contracting belly.

The load formed an attractive striped pattern on me which I could not help but get my hands in. I spread his cum around myself, enjoying the wet, sticky feel of it as I enjoyed the crazy-stiff feel of my belly beneath. Dave looked on in awe at the mess we'd created together. "Wanna get in there?" I asked gently. He nodded as his hands met mine on my filthy tummy. We spread the load around together. Very romantic.

We took a rather chaste (no further orgasms) shower together after this, then I pretty much took my leave after a glass of water and getting my clothes back on. I'd had a really great time with Dave, both personally and sexually. I didn't think I'd be calling him again anytime soon, though. As far as he knew I was 8 months along with twins, imminently ready to pop. What the hell would I tell him when my pregnancy continued (to truly absurd proportions) for another four months? I wouldn't want to lie to him further, and I certainly wouldn't want to tell him about the situation's certain-to-be-horrifying alien angle. Additionally, I was way too horny for just one guy to handle, and I wouldn't want to cheat on such a nice guy. Maybe I'd look him up after the pregnancy, which is what I told him. I didn't specify how long that would take, of course. If I was lucky enough to find him still available after my whole ordeal concluded, I'd definitely consider giving him another call.

THE NINTH MONTH

Insomnia hit me like a freight train. General swollen discomfort, extreme fetal movement, aches and soreness, stretched-skin itchiness: they all conspired to prevent me from getting any appreciable amount of sleep. For goddamn weeks. This is around the time I finally resorted to a string of internet perverts to meet my great sexual needs. The insomnia fit nicely with my never-ending marathon of gratification, sleeplessness providing plenty of extra time for me to get fucked in various ways. It's always good to look on the bright side of things.