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Preggo at the Party, Pt. III: New Friends

Jenny here. Mark, who recently became my husband (!!!), wrote about my last pregnancy; I’m taking over for this little adventure. Two years after I gave birth for the first time, both Mark and myself were finally done with college. So, I stopped my birth control and was knocked up about a month later. Mark and I are, of course, absolutely thrilled to be experiencing another pregnancy together. I’m about 8 months along; Mark and I got married 6 months ago (before I was showing), not wanting to ruffle any of the feathers of the more conservative members of our families. More importantly than any of that, I’m currently very gigantic and very horny; Mark and I are absolutely in heaven, fucking many times each day.

Nostalgically remembering my first pregnancy, we decided to attend a little year-end reunion party the sorority sisters were throwing where I once lived and where I first met my now-husband. I hadn’t seen any of the sisters in nearly 3 years; they hadn’t been the most supportive friends when I’d been a pregnant college student, but enough time had passed now that I thought I’d be able to make nice with everyone.

Conspicuous by design, I wear a short, tight floral bodycon dress; my sizable bump is no longer something I care to hide around these folks. Mark and I show up around 9 and find a packed house: standing room only, to put it conservatively. I’m much too pregnant for such close quarters, my bump seeming to whack into any- and everyone even marginally close to me. Making our way around the place, I spot a small cluster of ladies from my time here and Mark finds the corner of the living room where the few men present have congregated. We separate and each go to join these groups to which we most closely belong.

The group of four women I join all lived here with me when I was a knocked-up student, and all contributed to my alienation and shame. I want to let bygones be bygones, though, and just have a friendly chat. The first thing out of one of these bitches mouths when I approach? “Still pregnant, Jenny?” They all laugh and I feel my cheeks turning red. I’m still not welcome here, it seems. I never told my sorority sisters how they made me feel during my first pregnancy and I resolve to give them a piece of my mind right now, on my way out of the party. I decide to keep it nice and simple.

“You’re a bunch of cunts,” I inform them calmly, then turn away to find Mark and get the fuck out of there. Before I find him, I notice a young woman in a sweatshirt sitting on her own on a loveseat in a relatively quiet corner of the TV room. Her hands are in her front pockets, shape indistinct due to fabric and posture positioning; I make her as a preggo right away, even without seeing the telltale bump. Having been in her exact situation myself (including on the night I met Mark!), I’m pretty much required to go talk to her.

I approach with my substantial bump purposefully pushed out as far as it’ll go, left hand on my back and right hand rubbing my belly: about as conspicuous a pregnant shape and attitude as I can possibly muster, I figure. “Hi!” I greet her from a few feet away. “May I take a seat?” She nods, and I sit just a few inches to her right. “The baby won’t let me stand for more than a few minutes at this point. I’m Jenny, by the way.”

I extend my hand, she extends hers: “Nice to meet you; I’m Katie.” Introduction accomplished, and even with just the one hand leaving her sweatshirt pocket I can see the fabric stretch over what looks very much like a nicely rounded belly. I still don’t want to come right out and ask about her pregnancy though, even with it borderline-confirmed now. I’ll have to lead her there via my own story.

“You know, a few years ago, the last time I was in this house, I was close to as pregnant as I am now. And still in school! It was a pretty tough time, but it’s nice to be here again now. Some complicated memories come with it, some simpler good ones.” She remains quiet and I decide to go forward more directly: I might make her a bit uncomfortable in the moment, but hopefully relate to her helpfully with a bit of conversation. “So…you’re also…” I got awkward in my attempt, hopeful that she might finish my thought for me. No such luck: I really had to push forward at this point, right past her uncomfortable facial expression. I speak quietly: “Katie, you’re pregnant, right? I used to wear a loose sweatshirt around here, too…”

Finally, she answers in a hushed voice: “Yeah, I am preg…I’m 6 months along this week. I thought the görükle escort sweatshirt would hide it, but I guess not from someone who’s been through this herself, huh?”

I shake my head with a gentle laugh. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t work on me. In my experience, though, it did fool people who only saw me in passing. My sisters living with me knew what was going on from morning sickness on, but my sweatshirt was my main source of comfort around just about everyone else. It was a difficult experience, no question. Very lonely. Much easier this time around, with my husband.” I smiled, happily rubbing my bump. “Are you with the father?”

She nods, smiling. “Yeah, my boyfriend Brett’s over with the guys. We’ve been together close to 4 years and he’s really great, but we’re both super nervous and feeling pretty anxious about being parents. Did you end up finishing school?”

Now I nod and smile. “Yes, with the help of the man I married. Not right away, but both of us finished within a few years. I wasn’t with the father of my first; it’s good that you have that support, someone to go through the whole thing with. My husband and I got together when I was about as far along as you are now, and he was an absolute lifesaver.”

She looks confused. “You got together when you were…already?”

I wink at her. “Some guys are actually into it. He wasn’t a perv about it or anything and I got way lucky with how fantastic a person he turned out to be. But yeah, he definitely noticed me initially because I was pregnant. We actually met right outside, near the lawn chairs. Why don’t we grab the guys and hang out out there? It’ll be nice and quiet.” I stand before she has a chance to answer, pretty much forcing her to get up and follow me as I head for the men’s section.

Approaching the guys, I overhear two ongoing conversations; one’s about football, the other about traffic on the drive here. Men can be so incredibly boring! I don’t hear what Mark is saying to the young man he’s talking to, but based on the young man’s and Katie’s eye contact it seems my husband has happened upon my new friend’s boyfriend, Brett. They greet us and introductions are made between those that haven’t yet met, then we all head out to the backyard.

The night is clear and quiet. There are only two lawn chairs out at the moment, naturally taken by the two of us growing babies inside our bodies. “These are the exact chairs we sat in the night we met,” I muse to no one in particular. A question of some import occurs to me, and I go with my nosy instinct. “Katie, I didn’t think to ask inside: how close are you guys to finishing school?”

Katie smiles, taking one of Brett’s hands in both of hers. “Luckily, we’ll both be done at the end of this semester. We basically just have finals left, then Brett’s got a job lined up and I’ll be having the baby in three months. And we’re already in a two-bedroom apartment we really like, so we don’t even have to move. We didn’t intend for things to be timed like this, obviously, but it’s working out kinda well. When did we start talking about making a life together, marriage and kids and all, Brett? Sophomore year? It was pretty much a foregone conclusion by the time I got pregnant; we’re just having to rush a little more than we’d anticipated, basically. And I have to withstand some staring…”

I’m envious in a way, even with how well Mark and my situation has ended up in the end. She seemed nervous when we talked inside; out here, it seems she has almost everything figured out. I’m more impressed than anything. “Damn,” Mark says. “I wish we’d had our shit that together.”

I playfully punch him in the arm. “We did okay! We had to figure things out, of course, but everything worked out. And we didn’t even meet until I was as far along as Katie is now, so we didn’t have the history and commitment they already shared when they got pregnant. You guys are definitely doing better than we did at this moment, but I don’t want it to seem like we were total fuck-ups or anything. We sorted things out.”

Brett snorts in laughter, and I finally hear his voice. “It’s funny to hear people think we’ve got things under control. It all feels so scary and disorienting still, a lot of the time. The logistics are there, with finishing school and employment and housing all taken care of. But how the hell are we going to make the jump from college students to parents in a matter of weeks? I’ve done plenty of reading, but I do not feel like I know how to be a dad. How’d you feel leading up to your first baby coming, Mark?”

Mark shrugs. bursa merkez escort “Meeting this lovely lady well into her pregnancy, I didn’t really have a ton of time to think about it. I dug the pregnancy on her to start, if I’m being totally frank. We moved in together really quickly, but it was only supposed to be very short-term until we spent a few weeks together and fell for each other. By the time the full concept and commitment of fatherhood were on the table, we had barely had time to prepare the new apartment for the baby. I read up on parenting and fatherhood and childcare and what have you, but during such a brief period that it didn’t become all that nerve-wracking. Whatever time we had to spare went to…well, as I said, I really dug the pregnancy on her.”

We all laugh at his slightly perverted openness, then enjoy the clear and quiet night air for a few peaceful minutes. A thought occurs to me. “We should go to the quad! Mark and I went there the night we met, it was amazing. Totally private and gorgeous. You guys in?” There was universal agreement, so we all start to walk over. Mark and I lead the way, holding hands as we walk half a dozen paces in front of Katie and Brett. It’s a lovely walk, pleasantly quiet and refreshing given the cool night air.

Arriving at the quad that’s become so special to Mark and myself, I head directly to the bench on and around which we’d so thoroughly explored my body during my previous pregnancy. I take Brett’s left hand in my right, his right hand holding Katie’s left; I sit us down on the bench in this order, surrounding Brett with preggos. Mark takes his place on the grass next to me, laying on his back and staring up at the stars. The quad is just as deserted and silent as we’ve always found it during our romantic visits; I love it here so very much.

This is not a place for modestly covered bumps, though, and I casually hike my dress up to just below my bosom, drawing surprised looks from our new friends. I don’t see what the huge deal is: my maternity underwear are basically very tight, short shorts. “Lose the sweatshirt and pull up your top, Katie: no shyness allowed here. It’s bare belly time.” She pauses for a moment, shrugs with a smile and complies. Her bump is modest and cute, pleasantly round and perfectly smooth. I’ve already hit the “gravid” mark, huge hanging bump liberally decorated with stretch marks from this pregnancy and the previous one.

I take Brett’s hand and start to place it on my bare belly, pausing just before making contact as I realize I might be about to cross a line. “Do you mind, Katie? I just want to show Brett what’s to come…”

She shook her head and smiled as she rubbed her bump, eyes glued on mine: “Not at all, go for it.” I finish the motion, pushing Brett’s palm down half an inch into my soft but firm flesh. His eyes are wide; I think he likes it.

“A baby bump grows a hell of a lot between 6 and 8 months, huh? It just gets firmer and firmer, too,” I tell him. “And more marked up, but it’s no big deal, they don’t hurt or anything.” He traces one of my longer and brighter stretch marks with a fingertip. “Oh, and my outie!” I glance over at Katie’s bump, confirming her navel is still concave. “Check this thing out, it’s like my belly has a nipple that’s always hard. Kinda hot, if you ask me.” Before touching what I’ve just characterized as a third nipple, he glances at Katie to make sure she’s still on board; she nods encouragingly. He rubs, pinches, and eventually even flicks my outie, eliciting pleasured giggles from me. “You should get a hand on each belly, Brett,” I suggest. “When in your life have you ever had two beautiful bare bumps within arm’s reach?”

He takes my advice, caressing both me and his wife simultaneously. I make eye contact with Mark for a moment; he’s showing amusement on his face and arousal at his crotch (I’ll have to make sure to take care of that later on…). Two bellies bared in the cool night air, relative stranger rubbing my gravid bump, husband visibly aroused next to me: things are turning toward the sexual, it feels like. I lean right into it: “So, Brett and Katie: how has the sex been?” I look over to see them both blush, Brett’s hands both freezing in place on the bellies they’ve been massaging. “Sorry, don’t mean to make you guys uncomfortable. But it’s kinda taboo, and Mark and I are kinda experts. Let’s get into it! Here, I’ll get even more personal to kick things off.”

I stand for a moment, pulling my dress off the rest of the way over my head and revealing bursa sınırsız escort that I’d opted not to wear a bra this evening. I’ve got everyone’s attention and I love it. Squeezing my right tit firmly with both hands, I shoot a fine spray of milk into the night air. Mark laughs and claps, Katie and Brett following suit. “Okay, my tits are out, I’ve lactated for you, we’ve told you we got together because Mark thought it was hot that I was pregnant. Let’s hear a bit more from you! We can be assets, I bet.” I sit back down and wait out a minute or so of contemplative silence.

Katie finally speaks, gripping Brett’s hand in hers as a show of solidarity. “We…well, honestly, we haven’t been doing too much sexually lately. Not since I started showing, really, right honey?” Brett’s face colors as he nods meekly. Katie continues in a rushed cadence. “I mean, we both have needs; we’ve still been…doing some hand stuff for each other. God, I’m so squeamish about this stuff! How do you guys talk about these things so openly?”

“I pushed a baby out of my pussy,” I tell her.

“I watched her push a baby out of her pussy,” Mark tells her.

“Okay, fair enough,” she says with a laugh. “I guess few things shock you too much after that, huh? Well, even with the doctor saying it’s okay and everything, I guess Brett and I are both a little nervous about hurting the baby, or really getting anywhere near the baby with his…with his…penis. Christ, sorry, I’m such a prude compared to you guys! I know he still finds me attractive, he says so and I can just tell. But in terms of really going at it, I guess we’ve both been pretty hesitant.”

“I think the pregnancy angle wasn’t an issue for us since we started with her in that condition,” Mark suggests. “And since I was open about finding it sexy on the first night we met. Brett, your dick’s not anywhere near big enough to get in the baby’s way: I’d have seen it through your pants by now if it was.” Everyone laughs, tension decreasing. “Pregnancy’s sexy, guys. I know I have the fetish and maybe find it excessively attractive, even, but I really think it’s objectively sexually appealing. We all like feminine curves in breasts and asses, right? Here’s another curvy area for you, and it’s incontrovertible proof that the lady in question has gotten fucked in the not-too-distant past. And she’s probably romantically attached and thus probably unattainable, which is pretty hot in its own way. Any of that do anything for you, Brett?”

Brett nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I do find the curviness appealing, for sure. And…I do kinda like thinking about how I got her into this condition, life complications aside. It’s proof of my virility, right?”

Mark looks excited to have gotten through to a potential convert; maybe he can create a fellow fetishist tonight… “Yes! Another great angle! Knowing you have the ability to knock someone up is absolutely sexy.” He reaches up and rubs my bare belly, throwing in an overt boob grope (I remain topless, for the record). “Just describing what gets me going about my pregnant wife has me majorly turned on, to be totally forthcoming. I’ve got a few ideas for later tonight…”

I smile and stand up, facing Katie and Brett, and pull down my maternity underwear. Two sets of eyes are immediately glued to my curly mess of pubic hair, and two jaws have dropped. “If you two would be kind enough to give us the bench, I’ve got an idea for right damn now. Mark, care to show our new friends how fun a preggo can be?” He’s undressed and stroking himself hard within a few seconds of standing, apparently as unembarrassed in front of these folks as I am.

We’ve majorly upped the ante in terms of getting personal, but, as we discuss in private later that night, neither of us could stand the idea of a preggo not getting fucked properly. If we could demonstrate the magic of pregnant sex for this couple, maybe we could encourage them to do more fucking on their own. It had to be attempted, at the very least.

Positioning myself kneeling on the bench and facing away from everyone, I await my husband’s cock in full view of two people we met a mere hour ago. I moan loudly as he enters me and grips my bump from behind; I continue to moan as he rhythmically pounds away at just the speed and with just the force he knows I love. It’s great sex, spectated or not. It’d be hard for either Mark or myself to deny we’re exhibitionists after this filthy display.

We’ve left Katie and Brett in shock; it’s obvious from their faces. They never object, though, nor take their eyes off us. And they both conspicuously touch themselves as they watch, apparently shedding some of their own embarrassment. And they eagerly accept our invitation to come over for dinner real soon. Considering tonight’s activities, that dinner may prove to be very fun indeed…

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