Thrifty, Male, Pregnant

*Contains Mpreg elements...

THRIFTY, MALE, PREGNANT

I went to shop at my local thrift store's maternity rack, an activity I'd been engaged in on just about a weekly basis since I started showing about 5 months ago. Brand new maternity clothing gets expensive very quickly when you constantly outgrow your clothes, and the thrift store proved a great solution to this problem. Both my tops and bottoms were going to have to go up a size this visit; I was looking through the larger maternity-paneled jeans when a bearded man in a black sweatshirt began looking through some of the stretchy tops on the other end of the rack. He seemed a bit sheepish in the maternity section: he was probably shopping for his pregnant partner, not used to browsing through women's clothing himself. I decided I'd try to help him out. "Hi! Shopping for your wife, or girlfriend maybe? Not trying to be nosy, you just look like you could use a bit of help and I'd be happy to provide some!"

His face turned beet red and he forced a smile. "Ummm...yep, girlfriend," he managed. "Looking for some XL tops...casual stuff, I guess. I think I'm okay...but thanks for the offer. Can I come back to you if I get in over my head, maybe?"

I nodded. "Absolutely. I'll be right here looking for pants that'll contain me." He laughed politely and resumed his search. I continued rummaging through the jeans, glancing in his direction every once in a while to see how he was doing. Based on how studiously he examined each article of clothing, he seemed to be a diligent shopper. When he moved into a certain angle relative to my field of vision, though, I noticed he had a beer belly that far exceeded what I'd expect from the rest of his body. He wasn't particularly thin, but I didn't think his gut could possibly be that big. I kept an eye on him, a certain unlikely thought flitting through my head. Positioning myself carefully, I got a few more glimpses of him from just the right angle. He had an outsized belly on him, no question; and he seemed to be attempting to hide it with his loose, dark hoodie.

I had to ask, right? Would it be incredibly offensive? Male pregnancy was a very new phenomenon, and I'd only seen pregnant men on television thus far. Only a few clinics in the country performed male insemination, and they were still in a somewhat experimental phase that limited the number of men they would impregnate. Could I have stumbled upon a pregnant man by chance in this thrift store's maternity section? I was amazed by the idea, and tried to formulate a way to ask him: I'd be kicking myself all day if I didn't at least broach the issue. "Are you..." I began haltingly. "Sorry, sir, but...are you shopping for..." I got very quiet. "Are you shopping for yourself in this section?"

His face somehow got even redder than it had when I'd first spoken to him. "I...uhhh..." He glanced around us, making sure no one else was within earshot. "I...am. I'm shopping for myself, yeah. I need...some stretchy shirts." He looked back toward the rack, not wanting to go any further with the conversation. I couldn't resist, though.

"I'm so sorry if this is offensive in any way, but I just have to ask you point blank: are you...pregnant?" His face reached a shade of red I didn't know human skin could attain. He looked around even more thoroughly for other shoppers, finding none.

"Yes, I am. Sorry for lying, it's just...people aren't comfortable with it at all yet. You've never seen a pregnant man in person before, right?" I nodded, eyes widening in rapt attention to his every word. "Yeah, it doesn't seem like anyone I encounter has. So I try not to be visibly pregnant. It's still working most of the time, but it's obviously not flawless. Do you want me to leave this section? I understand completely that I make a lot of people uncomfortable. I can go..."

I shook my head vigorously. "No, no, not at all! Stay, please! I...I don't want to stare at you or treat you like some mythical creature, but...yeah, you're the first pregnant man I've met. I'm totally fascinated by the whole thing, though. Absolutely thrilled to meet you. I'm Anna, by the way." I extended my hand.

He took it in a firm handshake. "Steve. Glad to hear you're not gonna go get the manager or yell 'pervert' or anything. You wouldn't believe how people treat men in my situation."

I nodded, trying to make my face express the empathy I felt for him. "I can't even imagine. Everyone stares at me, and a pregnant woman is a pretty freaking well-established thing. People are so terrible about changes. What's wrong with a pregnant man? The technology's there; I say everyone who wants to get pregnant should be able to now."

He smiled and spoke very quietly. "Well, thanks for that. It's even worse when I shop with my husband. At least if people notice I'm a pregnant guy they can comfort themselves by assuming I'm carrying the baby instead of my wife. The gay thing does not help one bit."

"Yeah, I bet. So...I can tell you're not super at ease talking in this place, but...I would just love to buy you a cup of coffee, discuss our pregnancies a bit. Would you at all be interested in that? I don't want you to feel like you're being examined or anything, I'm just genuinely curious about how your experience compares to mine. Is this offensive? If I'm out of line I'll drop it immediately..." I trailed off, giving him ample opportunity to evade my invitation.

"No, that's not offensive at all. I've kinda been keeping my condition to myself, so I haven't really spoken to a pregnant woman and compared notes. Sounds interesting to me, too. I know a coffee shop right down the road that's usually pretty empty, should be pretty private. Mitch's Diner, you know it?" I nodded. "I'm just about done here, so I'm gonna go check out and head over there. I'll grab a table and wait for you?"

I was beaming with joy that he'd agreed to sit down with me: this was such an amazing opportunity to learn about something brand new! "Absolutely," I responded. He took his shirts and walked off; I finished up with the pants, leaving the store two or three minutes after him. I was too excited to linger any longer than that, but didn't want to follow on his heels and seem creepily over eager.

Steve had managed to grab a corner booth, which probably wasn't all that difficult given the fact that we were the only two people in the diner. He'd already ordered decaf for both of us, kindly enough. I sat down across from him, feeling a bit self-conscious about the grin I could feel plastered across my face. "Hello again!" I started, probably coming off a bit too enthusiastic. "Thank you so much for sitting down with me. I'm so happy for you and your husband, by the way! How far along are you?"

"Six months this week." His hands instinctively went down to grip his bump through his sweatshirt. "And yourself?"

My hands did the exact same thing. "Eight months," I replied. "Just a few more weeks! It's our first; I'm guessing you're a first-timer, too?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I doubt any man has had two kids yet. Probably hasn't been possible long enough. Besides the usual 9 months of gestation, there's about 6 months of hormone therapy you have to go through before they can even implant the uterus. Then you have to recover from that surgery before they'll implant the embryo. So, it's a process. Worth it, though. We can't wait to be parents."

I was hanging on his every word. "I didn't realize it took so long to prepare for the pregnancy! Makes sense now that I'm thinking about it, though. Do you know what you're having? I've got a baby girl in here." I patted my gravid midsection proudly.

"No, we're actually going to be surprised when I get the C-section. Seems fun to us, make that moment of meeting the baby even more exciting in a way."

I chuckled a bit. "Yeah, my husband and I are way too anxious people to leave something as a surprise if we don't have to. We want all the info we can get. I wish we could've done it your way: that sounds so special!"

He nodded and shrugged. "There are pros and cons to both, I think. No judgements either way, of course."

"Oh no, of course not! So...you're getting a lot of gawkers?" My voice got quieter despite our private accommodations.

"Well, I've got enough meat on me naturally that it took a while for my belly to read as pregnant. Up until 5 or 6 weeks ago, it was pretty plausibly a beer belly. Still wore loose clothes like this hoodie to avoid prying eyes and awkward attention, but didn't look definitively pregnant for quite a while. Now even this giant sweatshirt only has a couple weeks of halfway decent obfuscation left in it, and it's definitely my baggiest article of clothing. There'll be no hiding it for the last 2 months or so. Probably won't go out a ton, honestly. I'm not the brave trail-blazing type: I'd rather be a silent early adopter of the new technology, you know?"

I absolutely did know. "Yes, of course. I hate the attention I get, and people are obviously used to seeing pregnant women. I wouldn't want that extra attention you're bound to get either. I'd play it quiet, keep my head down like you seem to be doing."

He nodded, a look of sadness flitting across his face. "It sucks, because I'd love to be out there raising awareness, normalizing male pregnancy by being unashamed and right there in everyone's faces. That's what I'd hoped to do in the beginning, but I just got so shy about it all. The stares are really unbearable; I'm just not the type of strong person that could withstand all that."

"That's not even close to something to feel ashamed about." I touched his hand and made purposefully kind eye contact. "You're brave to be one of the first pregnant men. That's really, really something. After putting yourself in this condition, you don't need to prove a damn thing to anyone. The haters are all assholes, anyway. Why begrudge someone the ability to have a child? It's just stupid. I love that anyone can do it now: it's really wonderful. Did you always want kids?"

"Yeah, we'd been gearing up to adopt for a couple years before the pregnancy tech became available. Once it was a possibility to carry the baby myself, I was in right away. I've always found pregnancy fascinating and miraculous. Been jealous of women's reproductive capacities ever since I was a kid."

"That's fantastic. I know this is pretty personal, but if you don't mind my asking, how did you decide whose sperm you'd use for the embryo? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that..."

He shook his head. "No, no, it's totally fine. Valid question for sure. We flipped a coin, to tell you the truth. Both of us have always wanted two kids and I'm pretty into the idea of multiple pregnancies, so I'm pretty sure we'll get to both of our genetic material. It's his this time, if you were curious."

"Your husband doesn't want to get pregnant himself?"

"Not even a little bit. Works out nicely for me! I hate the stares, and I know they're only going to get worse going forward, but he truly hates strangers looking at him for any reason at all. Really hates being the center of attention. Plus all the more unpleasant symptoms of pregnancy really drove him away from the idea. He loves my belly and thick ass and whatnot, but the thought of being nauseous for a few months really didn't interest him. For my money, it's absolutely worth it." He gripped his bump. "I'm growing a damn baby in here, for God's sake! It's amazing! I'd have been fine puking the whole 9 months for this opportunity."

"You must be feeling good now, right? The end of the second trimester was my favorite part of this pregnancy...so far, anyway. I still had energy, but I also had a substantial bump to rub and enjoy. Plus all the movement in there! It's fantastic."

He nodded, eyes diverted in reverent thought. "It really, really is. It was never within the realm of possibility that I'd feel a life developing inside me. Then all the sudden it was a real-world thing, and I was lucky enough to get in on it nice and early. Never thought I'd get to experience all this stuff. I really haven't minded the less pleasant stuff, even. It just all comes with the territory, right? Awesome curves from swelling in certain places, sore feet from swelling in others. Gotta endure the mild annoyances along with the overwhelming magic of it all. More than a fair trade, if you ask me."

"That's such a great attitude! Knowing my whole life I'd probably get pregnant one day, I always kinda dreaded the morning sickness and stretch marks and all. But yeah, it must be a totally different experience to have all of these experiences suddenly become possible. It's all pretty miraculous from your end, I imagine."

"Exactly. So how's the third trimester treating you? I'm excited to get really big, even if I don't love flaunting it in public."

"It's exhausting, is what comes to mind right away. I feel very, very heavy. Lots of rest required, plenty of naps. Hard to get comfortable enough to sleep, though, with the huge belly. The belly makes up for a lot of the hardships, though. It just gets rounder and rounder and tighter and tighter; it feels like my skin's going to split open any day now. So you'll have more and more bump to deal with and/or enjoy, that's for sure." There was a brief lull in the conversation. "You know, I don't even know how the symptoms of male pregnancy compare to female, really. You mentioned swelling in your feet and ass, right? And morning sickness?"

"Yeah, definitely went through morning sickness. And swelling all over, really," he replied. "Fingers, face, thighs, upper arms. You name it, it's gotten bigger. Though it can be hard to separate fat being distributed due to weight gain from the hormonal swelling..."

"Yeah, sometimes you don't really know. But I sure know I'm bigger just about everywhere, too! Gastrointestinal issues? Moodiness?"

He nodded, looking slightly resigned. "Check and check. Seems we're pretty similar in these things. I won't get milk, of course. Though my nipples have gotten sensitive and dark, so some of those hormones are around..."

"Oh, interesting! I guess you don't have the glands for milk production, right? The hormone treatments can't change that, I wouldn't think. Speaking of sensitivity-type issues, though..." I lowered my voice to a whisper: "Are you very horny?"

He laughed loudly. "Oh boy, am I! Not to be indelicate, but I want it all the time. And my...penis has never felt better. It's always ready to go and it's like it picked up on a whole other level of sensations. I love it, obviously."

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! My...vagina is always at the ready and super sensitive, too! Pregnant sex is so, so good!"

"Mmmhmmmm. I think my husband is getting kinda sick of me, but I truly cannot get enough." He paused for a few moments. "It's a shame the booths in here are so tight: I'd love to get a better look at someone 8 months along, maybe even cop a feel of that tight bump you were bragging about..."

I had a grand idea right away. "Come to my place for tea! It's a 5 minute drive from here, and we can sit on the couch and get the experience more fully. Wanna follow me there?"

He was already standing and taking out his wallet to leave cash on our way out. "Let's do it!"

We were sitting comfortably in my living room 10 minutes later; Steve had removed his sweatshirt to reveal a stretched pre-pregnancy t-shirt, and I'd removed my sweater to reveal my bosom- and bump-accentuating tank top. "Wow, your milk has really come in, huh?!" My rack was indeed pretty killer. "Sorry, I guess I don't have any frame of reference for how much they've grown. Significant expansion?"

I nodded, eyes wide. "Ooooohhh yeah. A cup size, several inches; and I'm still barely fitting in the nursing bras. The milk coming in is pretty serious. They're super heavy...Do you want to feel?"

He laughed. "The gay guy's no threat, right? Your husband wouldn't mind?"

"No, no, this would all be just the same if he were sitting here with us. Though...do you have an idea of what non-lactating breasts feel like?"

"Yes, actually. I was misguidedly dating women until halfway through college, so I got my hands on my share of boobs. It's been a while, sure, but I think I have some memory..." I took off my tank top and sports bra in one over-the-head motion, revealing the whole of my preggo torso. "Oh!" He was surprised. "Okay, what the hell..." He took a breast in each hand, lifting them to gauge their weight and squeezing a bit for density. "Yeah, these things are just about to burst, huh?"

"You have no idea. They get rock hard. I have to milk myself like six times a day to keep the pain and pressure down. It's annoying as hell." He gently released my pendulous utters and let his hands drift down to land on my bump. I saw his eyes widen dramatically. "Tight, right? Thing gets to be like a drum."

"It's so great! Man, I can't wait for that! Here, get a feel of what I'm dealing with now..." He took his shirt off, too, revealing a seriously hirsute torso and somewhat flabby bump. I touched it with both hands, enjoying its outer softness and inner firmness as I pushed down into his flesh a bit. "It's cute," he said, "but that beachball of yours is really something to behold. Oh, and you've got your outie! I'm on my way, I think...right?"

"Yep!" I assured him. His navel was about flush with the rest of his belly. "That thing'll pop before you know it. And you're rocking quite the linea nigra already! I still haven't gotten one; I probably won't, at least not this pregnancy. Something to aim for next time, I suppose! Have you gotten hairier on your stomach? I've got some light, fine hairs all over the place that I never had before, if you look real close."

He shrugged. "Honestly, I can't tell. I'm really, really hairy, as you can definitely tell. It might've gotten a little more intense or darker or something, but it'd be a subtle effect given my pre-pregnancy state." We sat in silence for a minute or two, staring at each other's bared torsos. It was great. "Well, this is an Mpreg for ya," he finally broke the silence, gesturing toward his hairy bump. "How do you like it?"

"You're beautiful!" I enthused sans hesitation. "I absolutely love it. Are you grossed out by my tits, or does the pregnancy make them a bit interesting?"

He laughed. "I've never been grossed out by tits: they're fun to play with and can be nicely shapely, as yours are. You look absolutely fantastic, Anna. I'm seriously so excited for the crazy growth and tightening my bump's gonna go through in the next few months. So cool!" Having delivered our final assessments, we both put our tops back on. Steve glanced at his watch once fully-clothed again. "I'm sorry, but I really should be going. This was a lot of fun, Anna! Maybe we can get together with the husbands sometime soon?"

I clapped my hands in delight. "Yes! Please! Preggo double date night!" I walked him to the door, glad that this wouldn't be the last I'd see of my fascinating new friend. "Pregnancy suits you, Steve," I called out to him as he opened his car door. "And don't let anyone tell you otherwise!"