The Horny Sea Horse Pt. 01

BEFORE

My wife, Annie, and myself tried to get pregnant naturally for over a year. No luck with daily ovulation strips, cycle tracking, any of it. Finally, we went to unavoidably-dread-provoking doctors' appointments to see if there was a issue with either of our reproductive systems.

My sperm count was well within healthy limits, but, though she was producing eggs healthily, Annie's uterus would be unable to carry a viable fetus. We were pretty crushed when the OB/GYN told us, and visibly so, I'm sure.

"What about something experimental?" she had asked us, the care obvious in her voice. We said we'd try just about anything, and "experimental" didn't scare us away after over a year of trying, especially considering our late-breaking unfortunate fertility news. She gave us a referral.

The "experimental" fertility specialist's office was, in my initial response to it, bizarrely bereft of any pregnant women. I'd loved and been rather obsessed with pregnancy my whole life, and it was absolutely my fetish. So, when I entered a fertility doctor's office and found no such eye candy (I'd more or less been trained to look for it after so many appointments), it was extremely noticeable.

Secondly, I noticed a lot of overweight men, some accompanied by women, some not. Whatever, plenty of people are overweight, and maybe the fertility doctor had a specialty in sperm count improvement, right? Obesity lowers sperm count, I think? I easily wrote it all off as coincidence, because how the fuck could I have known what the appointment would bring?

They called us into one of the waiting rooms, and a nurse entered just after us. Annie asked if she needed to undress and put on a robe, but the nurse said, "that won't be necessary." The nurse then took vitals from me and not Annie, adding more to our confusion.

Most of our appointments we'd been to recently involved my wife spending a lot of time in a hospital gown, usually having to expose quite a bit of herself in the process. They had never taken much interest in me, besides the semen I had released into their test cup the one time.

So what the hell was going on? No intense physical examination of Annie's parts, but something involving me this time? Annie and I had looked at each other with obvious confusion in our eyes while the nurse was in the room, but didn't have time to process together before the doctor entered and relieved the nurse.

"Dr. Lucas," he said upon entering, extending his hand first to me, then to Annie. "You two look perplexed!" he said, chuckling a bit to himself. "We do things a little bit differently, here, as you've certainly already noticed," he went on.

"Basically, we've become adept here, and at a few sister clinics, at providing synthetic uteri for folks struggling to conceive. You two, based on your charts, are perfectly physically capable of conception, it's just that Annie would be unable to carry the baby to term. Not to worry! That's where Jarred comes in!"

I must've looked puzzled; Annie certainly did. "You're a pretty healthy guy, which makes things relatively easy, and you're likely to have a complication-free pregnancy." Annie looked downright confused. "He's healthy, so...I can easily carry a baby to term all the sudden?" she asked haltingly. "Nope!" Dr. Lucas replied cheerfully.

"Jarred will be doing the carrying. I know this raises obvious questions, but that's why we're in the experimental category! We can surgically implant a synthetic uterus and a few nutrient-bringing pipes, for lack of a better layman's term, in Jarred. Then, after a few months of hormone therapy, we'll implant an embryo in the new uterus, and Jarred should have a very healthy pregnancy!"

We were stunned, obviously, but Annie grabbed my hand, made meaningful eye contact with me, and we both nodded. "We're in!" she said, smiling bigger than I'd seen in months.

I still had a few questions, though. "But...how, exactly, does this work? How have we not heard of it?" Dr. Lucas put his clipboard down. "Well, our success rate wasn't great at first, and going public with our failures would've been a serious misstep, despite the fact that we could successfully get a man pregnant. Finally, just about a year ago now, we had our first successful male delivery...C-section, of course!"

He must've seen the terror in my face as I'd suddenly started wondering exactly where the baby would come out of me. "Now, we've had dozens of successful pregnancies, and no serious issues in months. You may have noticed the men with bellies in the waiting room? Currently, I've got 32 pregnant male patients in my care."

My mind was pretty thoroughly blown by all this. I supposed this kind of thing could go unnoticed in the world, as I had written off his entire waiting room as just being overweight men, not noticing that most of the weight was being carried exactly where a pregnancy would put it. "Would you like to speak to another of my patients? That usually helps quite a bit at first," Dr. Lucas offered. "Please!" I replied, hearing the desperation in my own voice.

Dr. Lucas returned a minute later with a man who, now that I knew to look for it, must have been 6 or 7 months pregnant, and not simply obese. "Hi!" the man said as he entered. He extended his hand: "Charlie, 30 weeks tomorrow," he said, clearly proud. "Dr. Lucas imagines you may have a question or two for me?" He and the doctor both chuckled a bit.

Old news for them, apparently, but we were still bowled over, to the point that neither of us could come up with a question for a solid 30 seconds. "May I touch your belly?" I asked, finally, though I don't know what I imagined I could learn from it. "Sure thing!" he replied, instantly lifting his stretched-out t-shirt. He was a hirsute man, apparently, and thin black hair covered the entirety of his torso, including his perfectly round, stretch-mark free baby bump.

I touched, pushing in a bit. Perfectly firm, exactly the same as the few pregnant ladies' bellies I'd had the privilege to touch in my life. I felt the blood start going to my dick, my fetish suddenly revealing itself to hold a new bi-sexual aspect. Whatever, I thought, having never considered myself 100% straight anyway.

Annie touched Charlie's bare belly next, looking at it in awe. "How do you feel?" she asked timidly, apparently also not able to come up with any of the thousands of more enlightening questions that might rightfully be asked in this bizarre situation. "Awkward, but great!" Charlie said.

"Honestly, the pregnancy books for women...well, all pregnancy books, for that matter...well, they've been perfect for me. Everything's exactly on the same schedule, same side effects as though I were a woman carrying a baby. Went through morning sickness in my first trimester, frankly horny as hell through my second, now enjoying the experience but wanting my body back in the third.

"The only substantial difference is I didn't go for the breasts, so no milk is coming in, and my chest has only grown slightly. Nipples definitely darkened, though. No escaping that, apparently." Dr. Lucas must've the seen the confusion on our faces at "didn't go for the breasts," so he stepped in again.

"With the right hormones," he said, "we can get milk to come in, and Jarred could breastfeed, if that appeals. I'd say I've gotten about 50/50 decisions on this, with a lot of couples opting to bottle-feed rather than have even more radical bodily changes." I almost interrupted him with my simple statement, "I want the breasts." Annie, Dr. Lucas, and Charlie all laughed. "Remember, they're for the baby!" Dr. Lucas kiddingly reprimanded. I wanted the full experience, I had instantaneously realized. Tits included.

I started the hormones immediately following the initial appointment with Dr. Lucas. It would take three months of therapy before we could safely put in the synthetic uterus (and assorted baby-making piping). It was...intense.

Annie had been slightly jealous of my taking over the pregnancy she'd always imagined for herself, but some of my mood swings and unexpected bodily changes made her quickly grateful that it was me and not her. Especially since I found just about every change, even when objectively unpleasant, pretty damn sexy. The process of becoming pregnant was, unsurprisingly for someone with a pregnancy fetish, pretty fucking sexy from start to finish for me.

Unlike Charlie, I am not a hirsute man, so as soon as the bodily changes came from the hormones (emergence of breasts most notably), my torso could easily have passed for a woman's. My face, too, seemed to take on a more feminine, almost softened aspect, and I found I couldn't grow facial hair even if I'd wanted to. I only had to shave about once every 10 days, and even then it was just stubble that had become barely noticeable.

For those few months, with the breasts being the only readily apparent difference between me and typical men, I frequently wore a tightly-wrapped piece of soft linen around my chest. I didn't feel ready for the attention that I may well be in for once I had a baby bump along with the new tits, and my modest, A-cup rack (relatively small pre-milk, at least!) was easy enough to hide.

Around the house, though, Annie found my new parts more than a little intriguing, and I'd frequently roam the house wearing nothing but boxer shorts. She'd rub on my nipples, gently squeezing now and then, and I would get an erection the likes of which I had never experienced. It was a new pair of tits in our relationship that I could touch, see, and feel.

Goddamn, the feelings! I had never had much sensitivity in my nipples, but I was now massively turned on by as little as a t-shirt lightly brushing against them. It was wholly new and very welcome, easily making up for the slight soreness of growing a female-esque rack over the course of a few weeks.

Gripping a tit with one hand while masturbating furiously with the other became a very frequent habit, especially as Annie couldn't quite keep up with how horny I'd become. It was the hormones to some extent, at least according to Dr. Lucas, but also just how novel it was to have my own pair of tits. And, of course, the impending pregnancy...

The 3-month intensive hormone therapy went by, and I went in for the truly major surgery of having a uterus inserted (and various pipes connected correctly, of courss). I wasn't nervous before I went under anesthesia, but elated. I was really about to have my own womb, and every step of the process got me closer to a fantasy I had never had reason to even entertain.

Recovery wasn't the easiest in the world, especially as I had to refrain from too strenuous of physical activity (i.e. fucking & masturbating) in order to keep my stomach stitches from bursting. The scar was exactly where C-section scars usually are, though slightly larger, as a bit more of my insides had to be accessible for the piping hook-ups. They'd re-open the same wound when it was time to deliver the baby, which Dr. Lucas assured me would make the whole thing a little easier.

Just the one incision to deal with sounded pretty good to me, especially compared to when my imagination had immediately gone to pushing a newborn out of my urethra. Placing my hands just under my navel afterwards, I couldn't even feel the synthetic uterus under my skin. Scientific miracles were just piling up.

They did make another tiny incision a month after my first surgery, though, just below the C-section one, in order to implant the embryo. It was safe, at that point, as my body had successfully accepted the uterus, and all my physical functions had returned to normal (corrected for some hormonal feminization, of course).

We knew Dr. Lucas had had success in combining our respective eggs and sperm we gave him just before starting the hormone therapy, and several embryos had been frozen, awaiting my readiness. I was ready at the expected point, about four months after our first appointment with Dr. Lucas, and the first attempt at implanting the embryo was a success.

I was fucking PREGNANT.

MONTH 1

Let's get the negative stuff out of the way: I'm tired as hell almost all the time, and the smell and/or sight of certain foods make me nauseous/sometimes vomit. I can hardly type the word "egg" without gagging, never mind seeing Annie cooking or eating them. I've been napping a lot due to the fatigue, though most of my naps have started involuntarily, which is not my ideal.

Apart from those relatively mild issues, though, things are pretty great. The most notable changes thus far, I'd say, are to my nipples and areolas. My nipples were getting sensitive before, but it's at a different level now. Sometimes it's even uncomfortable to play with them, though I've only really let that stop my activities once or twice.

They've gotten a lot darker, too, from barely being distinguishable from the skin around them to a deeper red/pink (I'm a light-haired man, so I'm dealing in reds rather than browns). My areolas are only slightly lighter than my nips, and they've at least doubled in diameter (to two or three inches, I'd say).

I'm still getting a kick out of having real tits to begin with, and these vibrant visual improvements are very, very welcome. I'm extremely attracted to them despite them being mine (technically: they still don't truly feel like a part of me, in a sorta fun way), and I hardly know what to do with my sexual energy revolving around them.

Annie gave me a handjob the other day (easiest/quickest way to satisfy me much of the time), and I requested she rub my cum over my tits when I finished. She was game, and even thought it was hot. I was left slightly sexually confused. It was a completely new impulse for me, and I'm still kind of working through the novel horny feelings...

Generally, horny feelings abound. I find the plain fact of being pregnant incredibly erotic. Even the "negative" parts have a sexual upside: I got so worked up during one nauseous spell that I ended up jerking off kneeling in front of the toilet in between gagging fits, just because I could apply the term "morning sickness" to myself.

I'm pregnant. I, a man with a deep-seated, life-long pregnancy fetish, am pregnant. So every damn part of the experience is amazing, and most are highly exciting. It's way too early to worry about stretch marks (which I'm sure will get me off if I get them, anyway!), but I've begun moisturizing nonetheless.

I've got baby oil, shea butter, coconut oil...all sorts of things in the rotation. I massage (or, if I'm lucky, Annie massages) the moisturizers into the area directly below my navel in particular, but I always end up coating more or less my entire torso. I must spend at least an hour a day rubbing and/or getting rubbed (not counting dick rubbing, of course... that'd add a few more hours daily!), and, again, I'm not even going to start showing for a few more months.

Ok, I need to go jerk off for the fourth (maybe 5th?) time today...

MONTH 2

This'll be my most complain-y post of my pregnancy, I hope (and expect - things are supposed to get a bit easier soon!). My damn legs ache for no reason, which, upon researching the matter, is totally typical two-months pregnant stuff. I'd never heard of this particular symptom, though, so the horny associations with pregnancy aren't clicking for me.

Much like this month's even more pronounced fatigue, it's hard to find the erotic element in my legs' discomfort. Additionally, I'd say I'm 100% into morning sickness territory now, with routine puking and inescapable smell/sight aversions to certain foods. When I'm actively puking, it's much more difficult to work up the boner and jerk it at the toilet. Even pregnancy can't make vomit erotic for me, which means, luckily, I will never find vomit erotic. Sorry, weird tangent.

The more I think, the more side effects come to mind, so I'll stop considering after just briefly mentioning my nipples. They're way too sensitive now, and I can barely touch them at all with masturbatory intent. It's frustrating, as tightly gripping my tits quickly became my jerk-off go-to. Honestly, though, I've barely felt up to jerking it more than once or twice a day for the past few weeks. Those are pre-pregnancy numbers, which is just depressing.

If not really erotic at the moment, my pregnancy remains utterly fascinating to me. I learned today that my uterus has already doubled in size, now approximating a tangerine. Even with it being synthetic in its way, I can't fucking believe this all is happening inside of me.

I feel reverent toward my body, which is strange and great simultaneously. Huge, massive, towering respect for women repeatedly going through this. It's amazing, but way too difficult to be taken for granted, as seems to happen all too often.

Interesting but tough month; more excitement incoming!

MONTH 3

I'm FEELING pregnant!! I realized a few days ago that it had stopped feeling as abstract as it had at the start of my pregnancy. I was way into the darkened nipples and premature moisturization, but the pregnancy was a bit theoretical feeling. I realized this the first morning I could feel a new firmness in my lower stomach, right where the uterus was placed. PREGNANCY!! This is just straight-up pregnant stuff, not a side effect, but a sign of the real fucking thing itself. This is all really and truly happening.

In addition to the newly-firm belly I can't keep my goddamn hands off (and I can easily cum directly on!), my waist has most definitely thickened. I've always been pretty thin, so I'm really noticing this change, however minor it's been thus far. I've taken to more sweatpants than jeans, as zippers and buttons quickly became unfriendly to me.

I'm slightly worried about the clothing options going forward. No maternity sections for men, after all. I guess loose, oversized t-shirts will probably suffice to cover the bump, maybe just showing off a tiny bit of underbelly cleavage, particularly in public, for fellow pregnancy enthusiasts' and my own exhibitionist self's gratification.

As long as my waist doesn't balloon to ridiculous sizes, I should be ok with loose bottoms pulled up to just below my drooping belly. I'm getting way ahead of myself with that "drooping" description, but I'm also getting way horny, so I'll keep that particular word in mind for later...

The waist, in addition to the firm uterus, feels like I'm just a teensy bit away from showing, which makes me pretty much want to explode with semen. That might be a bit of a gross explanation, but the anticipation makes me feel like it's going to be momentous, and momentously erotic. I've still been going out in public with my tits ~hidden (getting harder now, as they're definitely growing). I'm waiting to make my publicly-engorged debut once I can show off a real bump.

It. Will. Be. Glorious. I imagine myself approaching every single person whose eyes linger on my midsection, grabbing their hands, shouting "Touch!" as I place their palms to my belly. Obviously exaggerated, but I can absolutely imagine striking up conversations with strangers. I guess that'll require more exposition than most female pregnancies, the story of which is near-universally "a guy came inside me."

Maybe I should roughly prepare how I'll explain myself. As a sort of medically-experimental surrogate? However I go about it, there are bound to be follow-up questions, and probably a follow-up me-jerking-off-in-the-bathroom. I was always intensely excited considering accompanying a pregnant Annie in public, but I'm somehow even more turned on with it being me. I cannot fucking wait till I'm showing.

In more present matters, I've passed the 10-week mark, which means most of my baby's ("My baby"! Holy shit!) critical development is done. That calls for a huge sigh of relief from me! I haven't been stressed out thus far, really (horny is overwhelming most things), but this does make me feel pretty great and optimistic.