My Pregnancy Experience

I'm Tricia Martin. At the critical point in this story I was twenty eight years old.

I always considered myself an average girl/woman in the looks department. I made up for my average looks by excelling in athletics, especially track and field, and getting good grades though they may have been due more to hard work than innate intelligence. I always tried to be kind to everyone, so I got asked out on dates a considerable amount, especially considering my average looks. From the time that I was eighteen until I got married to Brian Martin when I was twenty four, I had my share of sex.

Like most people, I did really enjoy sex – however, even when married I have to say that I never had a completely toe-curling, banshee screaming, comatose-inducing, session; just basically rewarding oral and intercourse. I had what I considered to be an average libido, and Brian did too; we were very compatible in that regard, and in most other ways.

I actually think that I would have been considered much sexier than average except for three things; I had a significant – not puke-inducing, but hard to cover up with makeup – case of acne; I had small boobs; and I had a flat ass. Most guys that I knew prized a nice complexion, at least medium sized tits, and a bubble butt. I did have really nice legs, due in part to my athletic achievements, and tried to emphasize them in my dress. I also always tried to have a smile on my face to expose my perfectly straight and pearly white teeth to distract from my acne.

Starting right after college, Brian and I both had decent jobs and made more than decent money. While we were not tightwads, and did enjoy life, we were careful to put a significant amount of our earnings away to buy a house when we ultimately had kids. I worked for a big company that made tons of money, and had an excellent health and family leave plan, which is one of the reasons I accepted the job offer there when I had others to choose from that paid more money.

After about three and one-half years of marriage Brian and I decided that it was time to start a family. We were happy with the upscale garden apartment complex that we lived in, and felt no rush to get out and into a house before the baby was born. Our plan was to find a suitable house and move when our first child was maybe ten to fourteen months old. I would get four months with pay for pregnancy and post-pregnancy leave, and could take three more months without pay but without jeopardizing my chance for advancement if I so chose.

We had nice neighbors in our garden apartment complex; most were married couples with one or two kids, or plans to have them soon. Our next door neighbors were a very good-looking couple named Kurt and Brittany Swanson. They were about our only friends that didn't seem to be on track to have kids, at least not in the near future, but that was not an impediment to us, or our other friendly neighbors, getting along with them. Kurt ran a successful on-line business from his apartment, and Brittany was a buyer for a big department store and travelled quite a bit.

Kurt and I got along particularly well because of our athletic backgrounds. He threw the javelin in college, and was even the alternate on the 2012 U S Olympic team. He also ran the 400 meter event in college, an unusual combination. I too ran the 400 and was conference champion in the long jump in college. Once in a while we went running together. Though we were friendly, our relationship was strictly platonic and I never even imagined it otherwise especially since Brittany had a perfect complexion, beautiful face, likely a D cup rack, and a truly shapely ass, and Kurt was twice as good looking as any guy I had ever dated.

I had my IUD removed a few months before my twenty eighth birthday and got pregnant soon thereafter. Some strange things happened when I did; well maybe they're not all that strange in moderation, but how dramatic they were certainly was strange. By the time that I was just short of seven months pregnant:

-My acne cleared up completely. I wasn't even left with a pock-marked face. The few blemishes remaining were easily covered up with makeup.

-My boobs got a full two cup sizes bigger, and my nipples got proportionally even larger.

-My ass filled out. While not truly a bubble butt, it was much rounder and more pronounced than it ever had been before.

-My libido increased considerably, so that I thought about sex at least three times as much as I ever had before.

-My energy level decreased significantly. When I exercised – which I continued to do, but only exercises approved by my OB/GYN – I felt good while doing so, but afterward got so tired I often drifted off immediately after a shower, and napped for at least an hour.

-Of course my belly also got bigger, although the doctor said that I was gaining just the right amount of weight, so that the baby would be healthy, but so that I would not have too much difficulty getting back in shape once he or she was born.

The reaction of males in all walks of life to my enlarged state was sometimes amusing, sometimes off-putting, sometimes suggestive, and oftentimes just plain puzzling. There were essentially zero guys who had no reaction at all, however.

Brian's and Kurt's reactions were particularly puzzling. Brian was very tender, and treated me kind of like a china doll, but seemed to have a decreased interest in sex, which oftentimes left me wanting. Kurt was wide-eyed whenever I saw him, and without fail would ask me to exercise at the same time that he did, promising to tone his workout down to accommodate my condition. Kurt also – normally asking permission first – loved to rub my belly; Brian seemed almost afraid to touch it and did so only when I asked him to.

I started pregnancy leave as soon as I hit what my OB/GYN predicted was the start of my seventh month. I busied myself around the apartment and shopping getting everything ready for the little bambino, but not being at work gave me more time to think than was healthy for me. What I thought about was sex, and for almost the first time in my life I wasn't getting enough to match my libido. I was embarrassed at how preoccupied I was with sex, and that I needed daily masturbation sessions.

Shortly after I took my leave from work after I had already masturbated and was still fixated on sex, there was a knock at the door. It was Kurt, smiling and dressed in jogging shorts, a tank top, and running shoes. "Hey sexy preggo," he started out the conversation – the first time that he had ever referred to me as "sexy" in the two years that I had known him – "join me for a jog. Then we'll get our suits on and swim a few laps at the pool; it's going to be a warm, sunny day."

"I'll so slow you down," I chided him, "and I'd gross everyone out with my big-bellied body in a swim suit," I chuckled.

"I've got a minor twist in my ankle so our speeds will be the same, and I assure you that no one with a significant amount of testosterone will find you anything but sexy," he replied with a big grin.

Having a hunk like Kurt say that to me caused a series of twitches in my crotch.

"OK – if you'll move the crib I bought yesterday out of my car and put it in the second bedroom, I'll change and join you," I responded.

"Where are your car keys?" he asked. When I handed them to him he rubbed my belly – without asking permission this time but with an even bigger grin – and said "don't be long."

By the time that I changed into my exercise duds and packed my preggo bathing suit and a change of clothes in a bag, Kurt not only had the crib out of the car, but set up in the second bedroom and the box that it came in in the complex recycling bin.

"Thanks," I said.

"My pleasure," he replied, handing me my car keys back.

We warmed up as we walked over to the pool to drop off our bags with our suits in them, and then started a slow jog on a familiar path that partially ran through the woods.

Kurt was especially chatty that day, and often off-handedly complimentary, as we moseyed along. I totally lost track of the time and distance, and by the time that we got back to the pool I realized that I had gone about a mile further than I really should have.

We changed into our suits, and Kurt cajoled me into doing laps. I was dog tired after just ten laps; our apartment complex pool was a true half-sized Olympic pool so that meant that I had swum about 250 meters.

As I relaxed in the deep end although tired the water did cool me off and supported my extra weight, so I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I was slightly startled when I felt a hand on my belly – of course it was Kurt, with a diabolical smile.

"Wow, have you done well for a preggo – seven months, isn't it?" he quipped.

"Yeah, but now I'll be wiped out this afternoon," I giggled.

"Do you want me to carry you?" he asked, taking me into his arms and lifting me up. When he did that he accidently – maybe accidently on purpose – lightly brushed my pussy with his hand, and moved my ass past his unmistakable boner as he lifted me up. A lightning bolt went up my spine.

I squealed as he laughed and spun around several times with me in his arms going "Wheeee." When he stopped we chatted some more while he continued to hold me. I started getting uncomfortable though because thoughts of sex overwhelmed my mind.

After he held me and we chatted for five or six minutes I told him that I was starting to feel fatigued and said that we should leave. "Whatever you want is fine with me," was his toothy reply.

We showered, got dressed in some shorts and tops that we had also brought with us in our swimsuit bags so that we wouldn't have to put our sweat-soaked jogging clothes back on, they slowly walked back to our apartments.

By the time that I got to the apartment door I was really wiped out. Kurt offered to make me some lunch. "If I can stay awake long enough to eat it, that would be great," I mumbled as we entered his apartment.

Kurt got me a yogurt, made me a tasty turkey sandwich, brought me some iced tea, and we sat down. "Aren't you eating anything?" I asked him after having already finished the yogurt and made a dent in the sandwich.

"Not yet?" he replied with a suspicious grin. "You look tense, though – can I rub your shoulders?"

"Oh, you don't have to..." I responded while chewing some sandwich, but before I could protest any more he was out of his chair, behind me, and giving me the most delicious shoulder and upper back rub that I could remember.

After a few more bites of sandwich all that I could concentrate on was the spectacular shoulder rub that I was getting. I finally stopped trying to finish my lunch and just leaned back and moaned. I felt myself starting to fall asleep when Kurt stopped, came to the side of my chair, and picked me up.

I was really groggy but did ask him a couple of times "Why are you carrying me?"

He didn't really respond.

Before I realized it, I was laying on my back on the bed in Kurt's second bedroom. I was in a fog I was so tired, when I realized that Kurt was pulling down my shorts and panties. "What are you doing..." was about all that I could say before those articles of clothing were off and suddenly his tongue was contacting my clitoris. I know that I wiggled around and protested, but that was half-hearted at best, because the removal of my panties had caused my preoccupation with sex to flood my brain with endorphins.

The next few minutes were like a dream; I had an altered state of reality. I unconsciously clamped my thighs around Kurt when he shinned onto the bed and started inserting his cock into my pussy. I groaned and moaned as he flicked my clitoris as he slowly buried his Johnson in my soaking wet cunt. I remember helping him remove my top and front-clasp bra while his cock was buried in me; and I vaguely remember my now big tits flopping back and forth – unless he was squeezing or sucking on one – as he started gently though overpoweringly pistoning his cock in and out of my pussy.

I had what was probably the largest orgasm of my life; Kurt kept pumping away. When a second orgasm was starting to ripple through my body I heard him groan and felt a tsunami of cum enter my pussy. I passed out during sex for the first time in my life.

I came to a while later when I felt Kurt's cock being extricated form my pussy. He lay next to me and sucked on my tits and played with my pussy while I mumbled things that were probably unintelligible. The most serene feeling of my life washed over me, and I fell asleep, undoubtedly with his mouth still on one of my pregnancy-enhance boobs.

I don't know how long later it was, but the next time that I became aware, I was lying on my side and Kurt was spooning me while inserting his dick back into my pussy. It felt so, so good when he started gently reciprocating in and out of me; I groaned continuously until suddenly he picked up the pace and my eyes abruptly flew open with a start. "What am I doing?" flashed through my brain; but it only resided there a nanosecond before it was replace with "God, I never felt so fulfilled in my life." I heard Kurt's telltale grunt starting again, and soon my pussy was filled with another load of seminal fluid, and I went comatose again as my senses were overloaded.

When I finally came out of my stupor and looked at the alarm clock by the side of the bed, although I couldn't really concentrate it appeared that I had either been fucked or asleep for about three hours. I had a sheet over me. When I started to stir a naked Kurt came into the room and sat next to me and stroked my head.

"I had the most fun of my life, sexy preggo," he whispered, staring me straight in the eye. "Brittany doesn't want kids, and I've had an unfulfilled pregnancy fetish since I was eighteen."

That was news to me, but certainly explained his ardor.

"I tried to resist you, but couldn't," popped out of my mouth – I guess that is what my id told me to say. "I'm glad that I couldn't resist you though; that was so far beyond normal sex that it was in a different universe," I honestly mumbled.

With that Kurt's smile got wider.

"You know, my whole life I've wanted to fuck a preggo; and here I got to bang the sexiest preggo that I've ever seen; and she lives right next door; and I'm going to be sure to go for the gold as often as I can the next couple of months," he muttered.

"What makes you think I'll let you?" I asked with a smile.

"What makes you think that you can stop me?" he grinned back.

Then he rolled me over on my other side, licked my pussy a few times, and fucked me again. This time I didn't pass out and it was even more rewarding than when I had.

Kurt literally had to shower me, making sure to wash off the cum sticking to my thighs and crotch and paying more attention to my nipples than they needed. Then he dressed me, and literally carried me to my apartment, no mean feat given my bulked-up body. He sat me down on my couch, put a pillow behind my back and another behind my head, and then gave me a passionate kiss.

"I intend to fuck your brains out until you deliver," he unabashedly announced.

"How dare you," I giggled. "I'll figure out a way to stop you."

He gave me another kiss and then left.

The entire rest of the afternoon and evening I was a zombie. I was barely able to make a simple dinner, and Brian's conversation went in one ear and out the other without really registering. "What's wrong with you preggo?" he finally asked – humorously, not angrily.

"I exercised too hard today and I'm still wiped out. I can't believe that I did that. Kurt asked me to run and swim with him, and I foolishly did. That's the last time for that," I chuckled. While I meant what I said aloud, I also meant what flashed through my brain immediately afterward, "But not for what happened later!"

That day marked the start of the toe-curling, banshee-screaming, comatose-inducing, phase of my sex life. That bastard Kurt fucked me twice every weekday. I bought an illustrated book of sex positions that were safe for well-along pregnant women, and he fucked me at least twice in every position illustrated in that book. He especially liked fucking me doggy as my pendulous tits smacked into each other as he pistoned in and out while fingering my puckerhole, and every time he did that the earth moved for me.

I became a sex addict. I tried to get Brian to fuck me in some of the positions illustrated in the book, but I could tell that he was just doing it to accommodate me, and that it wasn't all that exciting for him. Since Kurt was over-the-moon thrilled to be fucking me, however, that made no difference, so I never complained to Brian.

The all-time experience was when I was eight and one half months pregnant and Brian and Brittany were out of town the same night. Kurt and I spent the night together – the only time that we could do that – and I do believe that he had his cock, tongue, or digits, in one or more of my orifices the entire night. One time I awoke to complete consciousness only when he started ejaculating into my pussy – for at least the fourth time – which was almost an out-of-body experience for me it was so intense yet serene at the same time.

I was moaning in pleasure as Kurt was fucking me in my bed around my due date when suddenly I felt a rush. "Uh, Tricia," he said with a hint of panic in his voice. "Either you're the biggest squirter of all time, or your water just broke."

Kurt rushed me to the hospital and called Brian along the way. When Brian got there he thanked Kurt profusely for getting me there and then Kurt took off.

I delivered a healthy seven pound ten ounce girl, Beth, that night. My labor was short and fortunately without complications. Kurt and Brittany came to visit me in the hospital the next night while I was nursing Beth. We happily chatted for a while, they gushed over how beautiful Beth was, and then Brian came in as proud as a peacock. After they left, Kurt came back in pretending that he had left something behind.

"Wherever our paths take us, you WILL tell me if you get pregnant again, won't you?" he snickered.

"Fuck yeah!" I exclaimed, and then giggled. "Thanks for making my pregnancy the highlight of my sex life, stud," I chuckled.

"Believe me when I say that the pleasure was all mine," he shot back, squeezing my hand and patting Beth on the head.

Within six months after Beth was born our little family moved to a house about ten miles from our apartment complex. Kurt, Brittany, and several other friends helped us pack. As we were eating pizza and drinking beer after the moving van was loaded Brian – the ultimate proud papa – announced "I love being a dad so much that I can't wait until Tricia is pregnant again."

I whispered to Kurt "I wonder if he'd be so looking forward to it if he knew what happened the last time, and what is sure to happen again in the future?"

Kurt blushed and tented his pants.

I giggled.