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Summary: Cara, a 20-year-old college student, had the wildest night of her life. Unbeknownst to her, she has been impregnated by an alien species. The alien grows and feeds off of arousal, so any time she get aroused, the alien grows. The alien has a 12-month gestation period and Cara must try her best to abstain from any sexual activities or anything that arouses her. The amount of arousal will affect size of the alien offspring, but it will still take 12-months until birth. Idea submitted by Jacob.
Contains: Female: belly expansion, alien pregnancy, breast expansion, stuffing, lactation, and more.

-

When Cara awoke on Sunday morning, her bed was rumpled, her clothes were disheveled, and her mascara was smeared around her eyes. She gave a yawn before blinking up at her ceiling. When her gaze moved to the right, at the spot on the bed beside her, she was relieved to find it empty. Cara sighed as she stretched out her sleepy limbs, her body feeling amazing.

As Cara walked out of her bedroom a few minutes later, her roommate, Jessica looked up from the smoothie she was making. Jessica offered a smirk and cocked  brow as she stopped the blender to call out, “Sounded like you had a good night!”

The dorm living room and kitchen shared the same open area. The apartment was small, but the two girls made do. Cara threw a smile and sunk against the squishy couch. “It was…alright.” She played coy.

“Don’t bullshit me. I saw him leave this morning. That guy was hung.”

“You could tell?” Cara blushed.

“In those little briefs he was wearing? Umm, yeah!

Both girls burst into giggles.

“That was the wildest night of my life,” Cara confessed. “Drunken hookup, yes. But not awkward or sloppy, it was just — fun. Well, amazing. It was practically cinematic.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it. Thinking of changing fields?”

Cara threw a rude hand gesture.

Both girls were laughing so hard they were close to tears. “Did you at least get his number?” Jessica demanded.

“I don’t think I even got his name,” Cara admitted. “Started with an L. Luke, or something?”

Jessica snorted. “Classic, Cara,” she giggled, clutching her side.

Cara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, laugh it up. At least I’m getting action. You’re still hung up over what’s-his-face.”

Jessica instantly sobered. “Dan,” she mumbled.

“You should have been out partying with me instead of sitting at home crying over that loser. Could have brought home some big-dick rando of your own.”

Jessica faked a gag. “Hard pass.”

“The best way to get over a guy is to get under a—”

“—blanket with a nice book. Yeah, I know.”

Flipping Jessica off once more, Cara headed to the bathroom.

“Love ya!” Jessica sang.

After closing the door behind her, Cara went to the sink, where she leaned down and splashed some water on her face. She then appraised her reflection in the mirror, from her slim frame to the oversized T-shirt hanging over her. It must have been the mystery guy’s. Cara twisted the hem around her fingers, a small smile crossed her lips as she thought about the previous night’s events.

The smile was abruptly replaced with a grimace. A sharp pain in her stomach. Cara folded her arms over her waist, her eyes widening at what she encountered. Her body was…different.

Cara rapidly pulled up her shirt and stared in shock at her abdomen. It was usually concave in its thinness, but today it was bloated. Her abdomen was rounded and soft; sort of chubby. She gazed in astonishment at the small paunch that had not been there the previous day. This made no sense at all.

“What the fuck,” Cara muttered, cupping it. It appeared as though she had put on a couple of pounds overnight. Only, that was impossible. She hadn’t even eaten much the day before. She had drank, certainly, but had hardly eaten a thing.

Maybe her cycle was coming up. But for her period to cause this substantial of a physical change just seemed implausibly. Still, it was only explanation she could think of. Cara sighed as she dropped the shirt back down. As it cramping and mood swings weren’t been bad enough, now she was going to look plain fat five days a month.

Scowling at the mirror, her good mood eradicated, Cara went over to the shower and turned in on. She doffed the T-shirt — the only thing she had on—before stepping under the warm water, closing her eyes as it soaked her through.

There was no more time for reflecting or lamenting. She had to get ready for work.

An hour later, Cara was walking into one of the many campus cafés, this one called Shifty’s. Though the pay was awful, it was an easy enough job to balance with her coursework and social life—at times, she combined the three. Additionally, it was fairly close to the dorms. A five minute walk, so she wasn’t about to complain.

“Hey you,” said Greg with that crooked smile of his. He brushed past her on his way to the espresso machine.

“Hey…” Cara responded, biting her lip. The two held eye contact for a moment too long before she looked away, pleased as ever to be working alongside the cutest guy on campus.

Both juniors in college, Cara and Greg had an ongoing flirtation that replaced the monotony of long days at the café with warmth and excitement. It had been a couple of months but Greg still hadn’t asked her out. Cara just figured he had other priorities. Greg’s Chemical Engineering course didn’t sound like it left much room for fun, friends, or fucking.

After a couple hours of filling drink orders, Cara made a stop in the supply closet to grab some extra cups and straws. She nearly bumped into Greg, who was shoving a box up on one of the high shelves, his pelvic bone exposed as his shirt drew up. Everything about him just turned her on. Cara felt her face warm, and in her stomach…butterflies? No, this was…

“Mmgghh…” Cara moaned, her hands clutching her apron.

Greg turned to face her. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” What was this sensation? This…pressure? “’Scuse me,” she squeaked as she pushed her way out of the pantry. Cara hurried into the ladies room nearby, locking the door with clammy fingers. She went over to the mirror, taking in her flushed, sweating face.

Her stomach felt weird. Cara pulled off her apron and stared when she found that her gut was bulging even more in the shirt she had on. “What the hell!?” She drew up her shirt to stare at the swell. This definitely didn’t seem normal. “Fuck,” she hissed, wondering if she should make a stop at the campus medical office.

God, that was embarrassing. Cara thought of the quizzical expression Greg had been wearing as she ran off. Smooth, Cara, she chastised herself as she yanked her top down and pulled the apron back on. Lightly shaking her head, Cara walked out of the bathroom.

-

Her shift ran late and she never made it to the campus medical office. Instead, Cara got dressed up, did her makeup, and went out. Despite the bloat, she was wearing a slinky black dress as she danced the night away with some of her friends. The DJ was great and everyone was having a good time. When Cara met eyes with a stranger, a surprised laugh burst up her throat. “It’s you!” she yelled over the deafening music.

It was her one-night-stand. The guy she had hooked up with. Jessica had since dubbed him Hung-Hero.

Mr. Hung offered a grin as he came over, hands out, practically drawing her to him. He was good-looking in a dark, wicked sort of way. As they danced, Cara felt elated. There was something about this guy that was just so exciting. He spun her around then drew her close, his chest to her back, his breath warm on the crook of her neck.

She was hot, and wet, as his hands roamed her body, and she just wanted him closer; harder against her. She wanted to drag him to the bathroom and—

“Oh!” Cara arched as tension surged to her belly. She felt the stranger’s hands cradle the swell as it pushed forward, a grunt escaping her lips. Pulses of pressure rolled through, leaving her flushed and tight.

The episode abruptly ceased, leaving her both drained and astonished. She could hardly hold herself upright, and indeed found herself hunched with the strangers arms wrapped around her, keeping her standing. Her legs were clumsy as she got her heels beneath her.

“Oh god,” Cara breathed. With shaking hands, she cradled the curve of her belly, which just seemed huge now. She looked as though she was four months pregnant, the swell protruding visibly in her tight dress.

“Do you need some air?” said the hero, strangely unfazed but maybe he hadn’t noticed what had happened.

Cara didn’t think she could come up with a comprehensible response but she gave a jerky nod. Standing there being jostled on the crowded dance floor was suddenly both stifling and disorienting.

Hung took her hand and Cara allowed herself to be pulled along. They shoved their way across the dance floor until they emerged from a back exit on a quiet street. Cara gasped for breath once she had stepped out into the cool night. Her hands went back to cupping her swollen belly as she stared down at it under the light of the streetlamps. “I think I’m sick or s-something,” she stammered.

“I think you’ll be fine,” the stranger countered.

Cara looked up at Mr. Hung. He was so calm and content as he stood there, looking her up and down with a sort of satisfaction.

“Sorry, w-what’s your name again? It’s like—Lou? —or something?”

“Lor,” he corrected her, still strangely enamored with her physique. “Short for Lor’phger.”

Weird name. Weird guy. Go figure. Cara momentarily closed her eyes to gather herself. “Right. Okay. Well, Lor, thanks for — for helping me, I guess. It was good to—um — see you again? But I — I think I have to go.”

Lor gave a thoughtful hum, looking off as he considered her statement, not that it necessitated a response. And yet Cara stood there watching, waiting, and she didn’t know why. She should have just left. She would have, if she was herself. But she wasn’t herself, not at that moment, and something about Lor was just so intriguing. Though objectively impassive, there was a cruelty about his face. No, that wasn’t accurate. There wasn’t anything outright malicious, just a – a hunger about him. It was curious and alluring and she just – she wanted to know if it was directed towards her. Cara wet her bottom lip with her tongue.

A sudden tingle in her belly snapped her out of her reverie, jaw clenching as she instinctively hugged her abdomen. Not again!

“Are you okay?” Lor asked, stepping closer.

“Um…” Cara wasn’t sure how to answer that. She breathed deeply as the coiling tension inside her core steadily dissipated. “I’m not…sure.”

“Perhaps I can help enlighten you.”

When Cara straightened, Lor was even closer, just inches away. His hands moved steadily towards her waist, and she didn’t pull back, she allowed his fingers settle there, thumbs stroking against the sides of her stomach.

“You’re pregnant,” he said.

Cara would have snorted with laughter had he not seemed so serious. She bit her grin and asked, “What are you on?

“I am from the planet Screala,” Lor continued. “Our race is humanoid, yet quite…different, from your species, though I have taken this form for integration purposes. I hope it is to your pleasure. It would not do to draw attention.”

Cara stared at him.

“You must understand, I chose you because you are strongly suited for Screalan gestation. Your health, your vitamin levels, even your body structure —perhaps imperfect by human standards, you are a prime breeder for my young. As such, I am quite pleased to see that our mating was successful.” He sounded so eloquent despite the nonsense he was spouting.

Cara pulled herself out of Lor’s arms. “Right.” she pulled out her phone to open the rideshare app.

“You will spawn in approximately twelve earth months from now, though our litter appears to be experiencing a unique side-effect from your human biology that I had not anticipated. Typically Screalan offspring do not grow much in-utero, however, your hormone fluctuations are causing the young to experience growth spurts.”

Cara’s phone chimed. The driver was nearby, thank God.

“These hormones appear to flood your system at unpredictable times. The only way to characterize these physiological events, in your human terms, would be as — arousal.”

Cara’s eyes snapped up from her phone. “What?” she snapped. This guy was totally nuts.

“Yes, for the duration of the incubation, whenever you succumb to these hormones — this human arousal — our spawn will grow in size. It is not a bad thing, but perhaps could be inconvenient. As such, you may want to limit—”

“You should get hydrated,” Cara said, relieved as her ride approached. “Maybe sober up a little.” She waved the car over, watching it pull up to the curb. “Then, maybe, give me a call.” She bit her lip as she took in Lor’s earnest eyes. “Or maybe not.” Fuck, he’d been talented. Why did it always have to be the crazy ones?

“I assure you, I am not inebriated,” Lor protested. “Most of your human substances have little effect on my speci—”

“See ya, Lou.” Cara climbed into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind her. She slumped back and sighed, her hands cradling the swell again.

“To the hospital?” the driver inquired.

The bloating really wasn’t that substantial. Sure it looked huge on her, but she was thin. On someone heavier set, it would have hardly been noticeable. Maybe she was blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Listening to Lor’s deranged ramblings just made her realize how ridiculous she herself was being.

“I’m actually going to change my destination,” Cara notified the driver as she input the campus dorms on the rideshare app. She was sure that a night of sleep would clear her mind.

“Got it,” the driver responded as his phone chimed.

Cara dropped her head back, a lazy smile crossing her face as she mused again on Lor’s preposterous story. What a head case, she thought.

Classic Cara. Snagging some big-dick-lunatic.

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