Matt & Amy (Patreon)

$20 Patreon Directory

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Matt and Amy were expecting sextuplets. After years of trying, and several fertility treatments, Amy had finally conceived—albeit, more abundantly than she had intended.

The couple couldn’t have been happier, as they were just grateful to have finally started their family.

Secretly, Matt was excited about the news for a few more reasons than Amy was. Matt had a pregnancy fetish he had kept well-hidden from Amy. It had gotten to the point that Matt often lied to his wife and said he was stuck late at work, when in actuality he would spend that time in the back room of an Adult Video store watching pregnancy porn.

When he had learned that Amy was pregnant with not one, but six embryos, Matt had nearly had a physical reaction right there in his pants. The thought of Amy swelling up, day by day, right before his eyes, had been more than his body could take at the moment.

Because Amy was carrying such a large amount of multiples (or litter, as Matt liked to call it in his head), her OBGYN gave them a full stock of a drug designed to delay labor in the even that her taxed womb started having premature contractions. The drug came in both pill form and as an injectable. The doctor taught them both how to administer it. After some online research, Matt also learned that the drug was available over-the-counter in certain Eastern European countries. He ordered several more doses of it—dozens actually—and had them delivered to his work address, where he kept them hidden from Amy.

As Amy’s body grew, so did Matt’s fondness for her. He couldn’t deny how incredible it was to see his small wife bloated up and waddling around as though she was due with child when she was only five months along.

Matt was not sure how or when things had escalated, but he was soon administering the labor-delaying drug to Amy’s orange juice every morning, before watching her gulp it down. As she swelled into her third trimester, she had expected the arrival, at least, of Braxton Hicks contractions. But they never came.

Matt wanted to keep Amy pregnant as long as he could. Her breasts bloated up with nourishment for their children as her belly continued to gradually push and roll forward, inching its way out of even her largest maternity apparel.

Matt discontinued his visits to the Adult Video store, instead spending every moment he could at home. One of the side-effects of the drug was arousal, so Amy often jumped him the moment he walked through the door.

They had sex nightly, sometimes in the morning as well. Amy was rapidly approaching her due date, and she was just immense.

She moved around in an adorable duck-walk, chest heaving, hips straining. Her belly bulged out like a beach ball, straining her latest outfits, always sweaty and flushed as she heaved it around awkwardly.

Most days Amy just planted herself in bed, which was just fine with Matt. She was heartily against C-section, outright refusing to consent to the procedure. Instead Amy was determined to have a natural birth, even despite her large burden. Her OBGYN had tried to talk her out of it, but Amy would not hear opposition.

Soon Amy passed her due date. Matt was still happily plying her with drugged orange juice every morning. Consequently, Amy’s belly showed no signs of dropping. There were no contractions, false or otherwise, and by then, she needed Matt’s aid any time she tried to shuffle around.

The days rolled by, turning to weeks, then months. By her seventh month overdue, Amy was massive, her belly taking up most of their king-sized bed. She was sprawled back against a mountain of pillows, legs spread wide to make room for her huge belly. She breathed heavily, flushed and sweating. Her breasts looked like two plump volleyballs, shelved atop her bump, pushing against her chin when her posture sunk. Amy could no longer get up without a considerable amount of aid and contraptions.

Matt had no qualms with this. He brought her breakfast in bed, always accompanied by her orange juice, as was her wont. He would happily rub her quavering belly with copious amounts of cocoa butter. Because of his ministrations, her skin remained smooth and unblemished.

Though their sex-life had gotten awkward, it was just as intense. Amy’s horniness never tapered—it had increased, if anything. She thought it might help trigger her labor, but Matt knew that it wouldn’t. Still, he would happily climb behind her, and imagine her getting bigger with every thrust, imagine himself filling her with more children.

By the time Amy was nine months along, she had outgrown the bed. Her belly was the size of a small car. Matt savored every moment of it, knowing that this was heaven, that this could never end.

But in his blissful fog, Matt made a grave mistake.

He missed a dose of the labor-delaying drug in Amy’s daily OJ. By the time he realized, Amy had already started having labor pains.

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Amy grimaced, her massive belly heaving against her with each contraction. Despite the pain and discomfort and her wheezy breaths, she did her best to smile at her small victory. She was finally in labor.

Her OBGYN had been summoned, along with a team of doctors. After several gasps and murmurs, and some admonishments towards her main physician, the team somehow managed to heave Amy’s girth into a collection of thick straps that descended from the ceiling. The straps cradled the mass, elevating if over the floor so that the large babies could shift towards Amy’s pelvis and aid in the delivery.

Two male nurses blotted at the never-ending stream of sweat descending from Amy’s nape and forehead. Her breasts heaved, and ached, hot and bloated full of milk. Her fat nipples dripped the warm liquid every time Amy’s body clenched.

She whimpered quietly and struggled against herself, set in a position that left her knees slightly bent so that she could brace her feet against the floor. She had just gotten so big, and there was so much pressure. Her belly tightened and bloated visibly with each contraction, until it flushed red and she thought she might burst. Her anguish and relieved intermittently, and replaced with a barrage for fretful kicking, that left the skin on her quavering, skin littered with ripples.

Matt stood beside her, holding one of her hands, looking ambivalent, which was the last thing she had expected from him.

One of the doctors released an aggravated huff after checking Amy’s progress. “It’s no use,” he said. “We need to break the water.”

“But how?” Amy groaned out as she felt another contraction approaching.

The doctor hesitated. He leaned over to mutter something to the OBGYN. Then he turned back to Amy and Matt. “The most natural method of breaking it is through sex. Though if you’re opposed—”

Too caught up in pain and pressure to even deliberate it, Amy nodded forcefully.

Matt winced as she squeezed his hand with the strength of several pitbulls locking the jaws on his feeble appendage. “That’s fine, we—we can do that,” he managed.

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The doctors cleared the room, though the OBGYN, and a male nurse, stood by in case of an emergency.

Matt eased up behind Amy, resting his hands on her plump hips and swollen as, then sliding them to the flanks of her gargantuan belly. “God, I’m going to miss this,” he groaned against the back of her head.

“W-what?” Amy managed, quivering slightly as her husband slid down the back of her cotton skirt. “Oh…Matt…”

Matt entered her slowly and deliberately, though it wasn’t long before he was pushing into her with forceful, even thrusts. She would clench herself around him with each contraction, and Matt nearly lost himself at times, but he knew that he couldn’t give in. He had to achieve his purpose in this. It was finally time for Amy to give birth.

It felt like hours that they loved each other, in such a unique and sensual way as that moment entailed. By then Amy was breathless and sobbing between orgasms and contractions, until finally, she gasped, and fluid splashed out between them.

It seemed like an ocean was spraying out from between Amy’s legs, inundating their living room floor with fluid, even puddling around Matt’s ankles. He gingerly pulled out of his wife’s gravid body and collapsed to his knees. Amy slumped down against her swollen breasts, whimpering quietly. Then she screamed.

Amy’s labor moved along after that, though it was an arduous struggle to deliver her plump babies, each of them weighing between fifteen and eighteen pounds, and it went on for hours between her screaming and crying, and begging for relief.

Then it was over.

Matt’s hand was purple by then. He collapsed on the couch beside his exhausted wife, watching as she cradled two of their gurgling babies, a third in his own arms. Amy rested her head against Matt’s shoulder, and he grinned at her.

He couldn’t deny that the past year and a half had been utter bliss to him, nor could he deny that he missed his wife’s hugely swollen body.

But Matt was content with his large, healthy family. He looked forward to the coming weeks, months, and years of raising his children, and there was always the option of having more. He was sure that even Amy would warm up to the prospect in the future.