The Difference 9 Months Can Make

You know those times where you meet someone and have a great time, but then you don't hear from them for nearly a year and everything about them has changed? That's how it was with Scott.

Scott was a good looking great. He was a 5'8" man, slightly shorter than myself, and in his late 40s. He had a beard that had gone mostly gray, but kept some dark brown in the mustache area. He also had trimmed hair that had thinned out considerably on top of his head. He was an elementary school teacher. I only met him because I had gone to the school to pick up my little brother and take him home to our dad's.

Scott had been standing out with the students at the busses, making sure everyone was safe. He was wearing a tan buttoned shirt and blue jeans, with a small gut plumped at his middle. When I approached I noticed he wore a pride flag pin on his lanyard around his neck, which also had his name tag. We got to talking about how it's great to have a member of the gay community in a job position that they can make a difference. Before long we were whispering and making plans for a possible hook up. I gave him my name and address to my small home I was renting.

Once I had dropped my little brother off at our dad's, I sped home to make preparations. Clean, food, and... other supplies ready. I had moved out when I had turned 18, and had been living on my own for about 8 years now for this exact reason.

A couple hours passed before the doorbell rang. I answered the door with a smile. He hadn't changed clothes, and I didn't care. He was attractive and had a wonderful smile. I invited him and offered him some wine. He happily accepted. Before too we were sitting and enjoying a light conversation over dinner. I don't remember how we landed on the topic of guys we found attractive, but I admitted my attraction toward men with bellies and them getting bigger. He chuckled and gave his own snack paunch a gentle pat. He also asked if I had a family. Turns out we were both single and wanted children, but didn't want to go through the struggles of adoption. He stated that though we couldn't have children, he'd let me live out one fantasy, one that he wanted to live out with me as well.

And just like that, I had him pushed back against the counter, kissing him passionately. I rubbed and kissed his belly while he shoved food into his mouth by the handful. Mashed potatoes, corn, turkey leg, peas, beans, anything and everything I had prepared. Turned out that he was in fact a gainer, and he had been wanting to become a huge obese hog for years, but it was a slow process due to his fast metabolism. We knew that it wouldn't be overnight, but I told him I would happily feed him and fatten him up.

We progressed from kissing and feeding him, to him sitting on the table in the nude while I bred his ass. His legs were wrapped around me, holding me close. While I rammed him again and again. He continued to shovel food into his mouth, continuing to feed to hungry hairy belly, which rippled with each of my thrusts, an he of course would grab and jiggle for me.

By the time I had emptied my load into his ass for the third time, all the food was gone. Now residing within his bloated gut, which looked to have nearly doubled in size. He was so full that his belly no longer jiggled. He had even sprayed his cum all over over his gut. Slamping it sounded solid. He just moaned and groaned and belched. I took him into the shower to clean him off, where I of course emptied another load into him. After which, I took him to bed, where I spent another couple hours making him holler in ecstasy as I filled him with another two loads, while he came on his belly once again. Before we fell asleep cuddling and rubbing his full belly.

I awoke the next morning to find my bed empty. He had left sometime during the night, which was okay by me. He had a class to teach. But when I tried contacting him later, I got no response. I waited a day before I reached out again, again to no avail. When I asked me brother how his teacher was doing, he stated that Scott had been out on sick leave. I found it odd that he didn't reply while sick, but I figured he was probably resting. A lot.

Days turned into weeks with no reply. Weeks turned into months with no contact. By the six month I had given up and figured that he was ignoring me. Though I found it worrisome when my brother stated that Scott had not been back to work all this time. Six months became 7. By the eighth month I had completely forgotten all about the man. I continued about my days as normal. Going to work. Spending time with friends. Going to the bars. Life was normal. Until the middle of the ninth month rolled around.

I had just gotten home from work around 4 pm. I was just about to take off my clothes and hop in the shower, when there was a rapid knocking on my door. As I approached the door, the knocking became frantic pounding. Thinking someone was trying to break in, I grabbed a nearby bat and readied myself. With a swift motion I opened the door.

It was Scott. He was panting heavily, sweat dripped from his brow, and his shirt had a soaked ring of perspiration around his collar. He had one hand pressed against the doorway, keeping him upright. I was about to question where the fuck he had been, until I noticed his other hand was practically holding his hairy gut, which was now so big and round and protruded over his waistline by a got foot and a half, looking disproportionate from the rest of his body. He looked as though he had swallowed an overripe watermelon. It was as if someone had hooked an air hose up to his navel any turned it on full blast. His gut was so round that his shirt could no longer reach to his navel, and was stretched tight on his gut. He gritted his teeth in pain, his eyes showing his desperation as he spoke. "Help me."

Stunned as I was, I managed to push past my shock and usher him inside and closed the door behind him. As he walked he used his one hand to hold his gut, while the other hand pressed firmly against the walls, guiding him down the hall to the kitchen.

"Scott, what the fuck? Where have you been," I asked as I tossed the bat aside and helped him to the kitchen island counter. "And what happened to you? You're huge!"

"That's why I need your help," he managed to say between heavy breathes. He explained that he wanted to reply to my messages, but didn't know what to say. He loved the time we spent together, but he had been feeling so sick that he could barely lift his head from his pillow. He called in sick and had to ignore my messages. After a month of this, he eventually went to the doctor. They said it was just a bug he had to shake. For months he had dizzy spells and couldn't eat certain foods. The doctors didn't have any idea what was ailing him. He had after the third month the dizzy spells faded and he had gained an immense appetite, and started rapidly putting on weight. He still got nauseous often around certain foods or smells. By the 7th month his gut had ballooned, none of his clothes fit, and he was embarrassed to out into public. It wasn't until he felt something move inside him that he went to the doctor again and asked them to examine his stomach. "That's when things got crazy and confusing. They gave me an ultrasound- unf. I didn't know how to tell you, but once I found out, I freaked. I'm. . . I'm pregnant. . . With twins."

"Wait, what? How's that even possible?" I questioned. This had to be a joke.

"I'm not sure," he panted. "None of the doctors could explain it. They wanted to run tests. They wanted to-ah!"

He clutched his stomach as he cried out. I put a hand on his shoulder and eyed him with concern. After a moment he looked me in the eyes once again.

"I didn't want to become a lab rat. So, I ran and hid my cousin's winter home. Since it was spring I knew they wouldn't be there for months. As the months passed, I just got bigger. I wanted to call you and tell you what was going on, but I feared how you'd react. But now- ah! I've been having contractions for hours. Please! I didn't know where else to go. Besides, you're the father. It's your duty to-"

"Are you kidding me," I exclaimed. "How do I know you aren't just making this up? You ghosted me for months. I actually enjoyed spending time with you that night, but you made me feel like it was just a one night stand. How do I know this is even real-"

"Please! You have to believe me. I know it sounds crazy, but I wouldn't lie about this! I didn't have to come here, but I did. Please, I don't have long before-AHHHH!" As Scott roared in pain he gripped my forearm tightly. I looked down and watched his round hairy gut shift dramatically before my eyes. Seconds later a clear liquid dripped from him pants onto the tile floor. "Oh god! My water just broke! They're coming! Please!"

"Okay okay, you weren't kidding. I just.. I don't know what to do. Just, come over here!" I guided him into the living room. I grabbed a few towels from the laundry room and layed them on the floor in front of the couch. Thankfully it was tile as well. I helped him strip down, removing his wet clothes and setting them aside to be washed. I sat him against a corner of the couch where two cushions met. I grabbed a set of warm towels and began to dab at Scott's brow.

With him stripped and tucked into this corner of the couch and floor, he began taking deep breaths as steady as he possibly could. His legs were open and his knees were bent, causing his bulbous belly to rest against his thighs and bulge over his cock, which was dripping precum. I was panicking. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't a doctor, or a nurse. I hadn't heard from this man is over nine months, and he suddenly shows up at my door with a massive swollen gut, claiming he's pregnant, and now he was propped up against my couch about to give birth in my living room. How the fuck was I supposed to act? But if I said that I didn't think seeing him here with a massive swollen gut and him looking about to pop wasn't hot, I'd be lying.

I put a hand on his knees as I continued to dab his forehead. "You're going to be okay, Scott. I'm here. You are going to get through this. I'll be here every step of the way."

He gave me a smile. He took my hand from his brow and lowered it down to his hairy swollen, sweat streaked belly. Putting his hand on mine we just stared at each other. "Thank you. I couldn't ask for anything else."

I couldn't help it. I leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. "Now, how long until you think they'll be-"

"OOOOOHHHAAAARRRG!" Was his only reply, cutting me short as he clutched his belly tightly.

"OH OKAY, NOT LONG!" I looked down between his legs and saw that he was already crowning. "Oh my god! Okay! Okay! Scott, you have to push!"

"OOOWWW FUCK IT HURTS!" He screamed.

"I bet it fucking does," I said back. I took hold of his hand and he managed to meet my eyes. "But you are one tough old man. You teach children for a living, and that is not an easy job. If anyone can get through this, it's you. Now I need you to push, Scott! Push for me, babe! PUSH!"

"aaaaAAAAAHHRRRR!" His cries of pained effort rapidly became the most prominent sound in the entire house. He clenched his teeth and with his eyes shut, pushed and pushed. I grabbed a towel and prepared to catch our first child.

The moment he stopped pushing to take a moments breaks, he gasped and his eyes and wide. I thought he was panting heavily from the effort, but when I noticed his cock had grown fully erect and was throbbing, I realized. Though he was in extreme pain during the contractions and labor, the pressure on his prostate was so intense that it was overriding the pain. I watched him clutch his belly, his cries of pain now having become groans of pleasure.

"You can't stop now, babe." I said with a squeeze to his hand. "Our first born is almost here. You need to push. Show them how tough their old man is, and bring them into this world. Push babe! PUSH!"

He gave a nod, and continued his efforts. He was no longer screaming in pained effort, but instead had begun releasing long unintended moans of pleasure with each push he gave. Each moan growing louder and louder, until I was eventually greeted by a cum shot to my face as our first child was born.

I was stunned as Scott continued to orgasm. I was struck by several spurts of cum to my face and my shirt, before he bucked his hips and shot chin all over his own bulging belly, chest, and even managed to hit his own face. After about a minute we shared a laugh as I cleaned our wailing child. I then set them aside onto the couch, so they wouldn't roll off.

"Oh, fuck," Scott panted. "I don't know what happened. I couldn't control myself. It still hurt, but I- oh! Oh fuck! OH FUCK! Here comes the next one! Ooww!"

I readied myself for our second child, and the process repeated. Scott was in extreme pain, before he was overcome by an extreme rush of pressure that pushed its way through the pain, and drove him over the edge once again as our second child was born. Accompanied by Scott spraying me in the face once again, and all over himself and his somewhat smaller belly.

I did my best to clean the two of us off, before laying our twin sons on their father's chest. Scott held them delicately, one in each arm. He kissed their foreheads before giving me a smile. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, before kissing or newborns on the forehead as well.

Scott gave me a coy smile and I had to ask. "What is it?"

"What would you say if I said that I want another child?"

As insane as this day had become, I couldn't deny the raging erection that was tenting my pants. I chuckled before giving my reply. "On one condition."

"That's that, boy?"

"You finish recovering. And then marry me."

He smiled so wide I was afraid he would split his head open. "Fuck yes."

We shared another kiss, before tending to our twins.

Our lives together were going to be interesting.