Midlife, Part 11 (Patreon)
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Summary: Tom is in his mid-forties. Comfortably married in suburbia with his wife, office job, and his 2.5 kids getting ready for college, Tom finds himself immersed in an affair with a fit young biogeneticist. Tom has no idea why he's gaining so much weight, and his wife has started making remarks about it. Little does he know, his secret boyfriend is not only experimenting on him but breeding him. Worse, Tom can apparently get pregnant additional times while already pregnant, and end up carrying multiple babies of different gestational ages. Its only a matter of time before his secret affair comes to light. That, in addition to other things. Contains: Male: pregnancy, breast expansion, belly expansion, butt expansion, stuffing, weight gain.
-
“That’s just not true, Penny,” said Tom wearily as his hand rubbed over what he could reach of his belly, running circles over the mass in an unconscious, continuous motion. He was still astonished that she had agreed to have a phone conversation with him at all.
“How could you deny it,” Penny responded, sounding equally as exasperated. “You favor them. You dote on them like you never did with Sid and Kim.”
“I’m doing this alone, I kind of have to be hands-on,” Tom said.
“There’s more to it.”
“Well, it’s different. I actually gave birth to them. I don’t love them more than Sid and Kim, but — it’s just different.” He felt closer to the babies. But they were so new, so young and small. He had carried them in his body. It didn’t make Kim and Sid any less his children.
“The bond between mother and child,” said Penny bitterly.
Tom’s throat was tight as he said, “I love all my children the same.” He still resented being referred to as a “mother.”
Penny sniffed. “’Course you do,” she said sarcastically.
“Are you going to keep fighting me on every little thing?” Tom asked, hoping the two of them could reach some sort of amicable middle-ground.
“Tooth and nail,” Penny responded haughtily before hanging up on him.
Tom shoved up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. That hadn’t been a productive conversation. On the contrary, he felt even more emotionally drained than he had beforehand.
“Rough time?” said Ian as he set a mug of hot tea down on the coffee table before Tom, which was a welcome alternative to coffee.
“You don’t think?” Tom snapped. “No shit.” He glared at his phone, still disgusted with the world, and Penny, and his own idiotic decision to come back to Ian’s place.
Ian was as attentive as ever. He offered Tom not only tea but a glass of water, a blanket, and some snacks as well. He had asked at least twice how Tom was feeling, and though others might have found Ian to be smothering, it felt like a warm, heavenly reprieve, in contrast to how hard Tom had been struggling, lately balancing babies in each arm, trying to take care of them and take care of himself. He had a boulder of life attached to his torso, and every part of his existence was terribly fragile now. He wanted to collapse beneath the weight of it all, but it just wasn’t an option. It wasn’t as though he could give up the babies; not now. Not after meeting Myra, and then Ethan. He could not think of abandoning the ones inside of him either. Tom would never be able to live with himself. Yet, physically, he was run down. He just couldn’t do it all anymore.
As he sat perched there in the armchair, which was soft and squishy, while nuzzling his huge belly a little too firmly, he couldn’t help thinking about how much easier life would be if he just gave in. Went back to Ian. Allowed himself to be taken cared of, pampered, and loved. Not having to lift a finger, not having to worry about a thing except staying healthy and giving birth to the rest of these babies.
“I feel warm,” Tom blurted.
“Of course.” Ian was all too eager to please. “Hot tea probably wasn’t the best idea.” He came over, taking Tom’s mug. “Would you like some juice? Lemonade, or —”
“I should probably go,” said Tom breathlessly, though he didn’t move a muscle to indicate he was getting up. What he wanted and what needed were in sharp contrast of each other.
“No rush,” said Ian, pulling up a chair and sitting right beside him. His hand reached slowly out, to finally stroke the curve of Tom’s belly. Tom didn’t fight him on it. They were Ian’s children, after all. And there was something terribly soothing about the careful, almost reverent, contact. Ian truly adored the swell. He loved everything is signified, from fatherhood to innovation. Tom couldn’t have pushed Ian’s hand away if you wanted to.
Tom felt flushed and breathless. And warm, truly warm, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Another few inches and you would be too wide for this chair,” Ian remarked almost wryly.
“Why do you say that like it’s a good thing?”
Ian blinked, seeming to catch himself. “It’s just a marvel, I guess. Most women couldn’t dream of achieving this level of fertility. And you carry it all so well.”
“I am fucking miserable.”
“God, Tom, I’m sorry.”
But was he? Tom’s hands fidgeted against the swell. God, it was just so tight. A grimace crossed his face as his nipples started leaking again. His insides lurched, his skin tight and itchy. It was a chronic feeling of discomfort that he still hadn’t gotten used to. As scary as it was, he wanted the relief of birth, while also dreading it. He didn’t think he could do it four more times. And deal with the aftermath. But he had to.
This torment wasn’t only physical, but psychological. And wherever he went, whether it be the courthouse or his own workplace, there was no accommodation for him. People stared at him like an alien. Just thinking about his custody battle with Penny made him cringe. How was he supposed to fight for his kids when he had babies literally popping out of him? Maybe he should have just given in. Give up on Kim and Sid. He had a lot on his plate, after all. A lot of responsibilities, a lot of kids.
He didn’t realize his eyes were tearing until Ian reacted to it.
“Fuck, Tom, what can I do?” said Ian, kneeling down in front of him, all but disappearing behind Tom’s orb.
Ian continued to rub, seeming addicted to the contact. He moved his hand up and down the underside of Tom’s belly.
Tom arched and groaned. His belly shuddered. “You’re going to trigger me,” he grunted out.
Ian’s hand slid lower. Tom’s face heated, and he found himself simultaneously mortified and disgusted that he would become aroused now, like this, in his extreme discomfort and despair.
Ian pretended not to notice. “Labor?” he clarified. “The next baby isn’t even in position yet.” His hand continued to explore the lower part of Tom’s gigantic orbit.
Tom just dropped his head back, covering his face with his hand. “How could you even tell?” he couldn’t help asking.
“When a baby drops, you’ll get more pressure on your hips and buttocks. They’ll swell a little.”
Tom just shook his head, still not looking.
“I can give you something for the discomfort. It might help, a bit.” Ian stood again, walking swiftly out of the room the way Tom couldn’t now. Tom almost resented how quick and graceful the other man was. How slim and attractive and composed. Not a gigantic, breathless, sweaty whale sprawled in a cushiony seat he could hardly fit into anymore.
Ian returned a moment later with a large glass bottle. He uncovered it, and poured some of the contents onto his hand. It looked like oil, but had a greenish tint to it. “I made it myself. It’s a specialized formula, but hasn’t gone to market. We’re still testing the efficacy. Let me know what you think.”
Then Ian began to rub the sticky, oily goo against Tom’s belly. Tom closed his eyes and allowed it. The substance had a cooling sensation, but the effects are marginal. “Does it actually do anything? Besides making me feel gross.”
“Right. Well, we have a lot of ground to cover.” Ian drained the bottle directly onto Tom’s belly, allowing the substance to collect in a pool before streaking down the sides.
Tom pulled at his shirt, holding it closer against his chest to keep it from getting wet. He puffed out a sigh. Okay, this was kind of nice.
Ian resumed rubbing, massaging the substance into every inch of Tom’s huge mass until it was completely saturated. Tom’s orb shivered, but almost with pleasure, like a tiny little bit of space was being freed up. His skin felt softer. Tom stretched his back with a sigh, his abdominal flesh no longer prickling from sheer tension.
And he was so, so very aroused. His dick was jabbing against the underside of his belly, and he could feel himself releasing pre-come. Tom glanced away, his face heating more.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Ian said gently. “It’s a lot of pressure on your prostate. I’m honestly surprised by your composure.”
Tom was silent for a while, a frown on his lips as he refused to meet Ian’s eyes. Eventually, he said, “thank you,” in a tone so quiet Ian might not have heard it.
“You’re welcome,” Ian murmured, seeming pleased with just that small amount of cordiality. “Feeling any better?”
Tom nodded slightly. “Yeah. A little. But now I’m just thinking about how fucking tired I am.”
“Your body is doing a lot of work. Your heart is pumping and supplying oxygen to the fetuses. You’re constantly creating and producing milk, to feed Myra and Ethan, and the next ones to come. Your metabolism is in overdrive, every body system contributing to support the pregnancy. It’s actually shocking how well you’re handling it all. You need to go easy on yourself. You’re doing the impossible.” Ian reached out to stroke Tom’s hair, and for some reason, Tom didn’t stop him. “Why don’t you lie down in the guest room? I don’t want to send you home like this. You look ready to pass out.”
Tom was terribly drowsy, but he shook his head. “The sitter –”
“I’ll give her a call. Consider it handled.”
“I shouldn’t…”
“Tom, you can barely keep your eyes open.”
Reluctantly, Tom allowed Ian to help him up. It was arduous just to get on his feet from his slumped position squished in the armchair. At the same time, it felt no short of incredible to have any aid at all. To have Ian’s strong arms around him, supporting him, keeping him safe and warm, taking care of every little thing. It wasn’t like this at home. At home, Tom was by himself, completely overwhelmed, exhausted, and on the verge of breakdown.
Tom hobbled towards the guestroom, one of Ian’s arms wrapped behind him, and the other planted firmly against Tom’s belly, where he could feel their babies squirming.
They eased down on the bed against an assortment of pillows. Tom was breathing heavily, belly heaving and breasts wobbling. It would take minutes to catch his breath. In the meantime, he gave Ian a grimace of appreciation. “Maybe just an hour.”
“Yeah,” said Ian. He had lowered himself in the process of helping Tom onto the bed, now sitting there with him. His hand never left Tom’s belly as he continued to absently rub the surface. The skin there had taken on a greenish hue from the treatment Ian had applied, though the substance had been fully absorbed into Tom’s skin, making it soft and dewy.
And then Ian said, “You know I love you.”
Tom drew a deep breath. “Ian…”
Ian shifted closer. They were already pressed tightly against each other, but Ian slid so that he was more behind Tom, in an easier position to hold him. Ian’s arms wrapped around him, over Tom’s belly and under Tom’s breasts, containing what he could in the embrace.
“I miss you so fucking much.” Ian kissed Tom’s shoulder.
Tom hated that he missed Ian too. He missed how great all of this was. He missed feeling safe, secure, and supported. Yet he knew this was wrong. Ian had used and betrayed him. It would be foolish to trust him after he had made such a mess of things.
“I’m sorry,” Ian murmured. “Just give me one more chance.”
Tom didn’t agree but he didn’t resist. Instead, he allowed his body take in every bit of comfort, pleasure, and love that Ian was willing to offer.
-
When Tom awoke, he felt terribly groggy, heavy, and stuffed. Lethargic as though he had just eaten, even though he hadn’t. He had been sleeping.
He also felt blissful despite it, his mind and body foggy but aware of the events that transpired the night before.
When Tom opened his eyes and looked around the guestroom, he became aware of certain changes from the night before. There was a band on his wrist as well as wires stuck onto his belly, trailing to a monitor set beside the bed. He also had…an IV line going into his left arm. He was receiving medical treatment though he had not consented to any of this.
But wasn’t that how all this had started? Medical treatments and experiments executed on his body without his consent?
Ian was nowhere in sight. As Tom shifted, he became acutely aware of how different his body fell. His full attention move to the expanse of his belly, and there was no denying that it was larger. Whatever Ian was doing with him — it was making him grow.