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Regret, Part 12
🕑 Added 2025-03-28 16:47:20 +0000 UTC$4/Base Directory
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Summary: A young man in college with a male pregnancy fetish pumps himself full of fertility medicine. He then purposefully gets pregnant by his boyfriend. As his belly grows, so does his discomfort, regret, and horror in realization that pregnancy is not all that he thought it would be. Conversely, his boyfriend's interest and fascination in male pregnancy grow, and he begins to first secretly, then blatantly attempt to do whatever he can do to make the lad's pregnant belly as big as possible. Idea submitted by NLH.
This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.
Elliott’s boobs were bigger.
It was no longer just a suggestion. They looked so real now. They had the shape of real breasts, no longer just puffy hills. Now they were supple and fat, drooping slightly. Round and womanly. They were legitimate tits, and Elliott hadn’t even noticed.
This is my fault, Andrew thought as he stared.
Elliott was standing back against the wall, a T-shirt stretched over his chest, but in no way eclipsing the sharp jut of his belly. As odd as it was that Elliott hadn’t noticed how much his tits had grown since the previous evening, it was understandable. He had a variety of distractions, several of them being the five babies packed inside of his body.
“God, you have to stop feeding me,” Elliott griped, his hand shifting to one spot, and then another, attempting to attend to the many discomforts that littered his stomach. The orb was massive and beautiful, pushing out nakedly, his skin sometimes protruding or distorting because his insides were littered with movement. His golf ball-sized belly button suddenly throbbed out, like something was pushing out from within. Elliott grunted and moved his hands yet again, clutching himself as he breathed, his face scrunched. His fingers were damp in oil. Oil that Andrew had coated him with. It was a daily favor for his spouse.
But as much as Andrew enjoyed rubbing Elliott’s heavy, churning belly, he’d had to end things early, if just to sit back and watch. Because he had never seen anything so gorgeous, and probably never would.
“That’s my job,” Andrew answered belatedly. The corner of his mouth twitched as he thought of the breakfast of twelve custard donuts he had brought specifically to exploit Elliott’s voracious appetite.
“You’re the worst,” Elliott groaned back. He had the type of breasts that required no bra for support. They were just perky on their own. His areolas were puffy, his nipples swollen and bulging. It couldn’t have been comfortable. But still, his belly took the forefront of his attention by means of being so stuffed and squirmy.
“Oh…” Elliott suddenly said with a grimace. Finally, his hands slid up to cup the side of one of his tits. Was he starting to realize he had milk in them? Milk that was making them bigger and heavier, fatter and fuller?
“God, everything’s so sensitive,” Elliott whined. “That’s the last time I let you gnaw on my nipples for half the night.”
“You seemed to be enjoying it,” Andrew countered with a flirty wink.
He didn’t mention how tasty Elliott’s nipples had been. Honestly, Elliott’s milk was fucking delicious.
A sudden brisk knocking on the door jolted them both out of salacious musings.
“Andrew, your cousins are here!” Andrew’s dad called. “You two should come out and say hi!”
Andrew furrowed his brows. “Be right out!” he called back.
“Seriously?” Elliott mouthed.
Andrew shrugged as he hurriedly pulled on a shirt. “Just five minutes,” he reasoned, his eyes pinned to Elliott’s belly. “I’ll go out first so you have time to…make yourself presentable.”
Ignoring Elliott’s beautiful pout, and his own urge to kiss it away, Andrew opened the door only enough to slip out of the room. He plastered his face with a smile at seeing two of his cousins in the living room. “Jake, Tara,” he greeted as he approached them. “Long time no see.”
“What’s up, man,” said Jake as he gave him a fist bump.
“It’s been ages. You can’t pick up the phone?” Tara complained, even as she gave Andrew a hug.
“Sorry guys. Just been kinda…busy,” said Andrew with a shrug.
Andrew’s father snorted loudly from where he was seated on the couch, watching a football game.
“Yeah, sophomore year can be brutal,” Tara sympathized.
The door to their small room opened again. Slowly, very slowly. Andrew’s eyes darted to the movement, and so did his cousins’. Then something started to emerge — the vast, round orb of Elliott’s belly. It preceded Elliott as it slowly floated out of the room, Elliott appearing next, his face flushed and his hands clutching the flanks of his swell.
With their jaws hanging, Jake and Tara stared as Elliott slowly waddled over to join them. “Hi,” he managed, panting.
It appeared that Elliott had gotten on a sweater that didn’t nearly fit him, the material only pulling as far as his navel. But he had covered the gap in material with a thick strip of fabric Andrew’s mother had made for him out of an old bedsheet and some elastic. He also had an on a pair of basketball shorts, Elliott’s limbs looking absurdly slim compared to the momentous growth of his abdomen. It looked as though he could hardly balance it.
“You guys remember Elliott?” Andrew said, quickly moving to Elliott’s side, wrapping his arm behind him, because Elliott looked drained just standing there.
Jake and Tara’s eyes were practically bulging out of their skulls. Tara’s lips were moving wordlessly, as though trying to form a response. Jake, meanwhile, was frozen. He honestly seemed aghast.
“Y-your—b-boyfriend, right?” Tara managed eventually, her eyes glued to Elliott’s heaving belly.
Andrew should not have been surprised by the reaction. An unexpected pregnancy was a shock in itself. A pregnant man, an even bigger one. But Elliott was not only unexpectedly pregnant, and male — he was huge. He was clearly beyond the parameters of what was expected in a normal pregnancy. He was very clearly carrying multiples. It wasn’t every day that you met someone as pregnant as him.
“Husband,” Andrew corrected her, smiling nervously. “It was all really rushed…well, a lot has happened.” He chuckled nervously.
His cousins continued to stare.
“Oh my god,” Tara breathed, then reddened. “Sorry, I just—is this a joke, guys?” She looked from one man to the other, then back down at Elliott’s belly as it wiggled slightly with movement. “Oh my god,” she repeated.
“Of course it isn’t,” said Andrew, his smile tense. “There’s a new drug, and we wanted — well, it’s a lot to explain. I guess we can tell you more over dinner.”
“We can’t stay,” Tara blurted, exchanging a look with her brother.
“What are you talking about?” said Andrew. “You guys just got here. You live like an hour away.” Jake and Tara were both around his age and went to university a few towns over.
“We weren't planning to,” Tara added, almost pleading as she waved her hands pacifically. “We were just — stopping by.” She looked panicked for some reason.
Jake had already shifted several paces away. He was staring at Elliott in what could only be described as disgust.
“You guys are being ridiculous,” said Andrew, growing irritated. “It’s just a pregnancy. He’s not diseased. He’s not fucking contagious.”
“We really do have to go,” insisted Tara.
Jake was already heading for the door.
Tara started after him, looking back at her relatives. “Bye auntie, bye uncle Jim, bye Wyatt…”
“You guys are so immature,” Andrew cut in.
Elliott would have been staring at his feet had his belly not been obstructing his view of it.
“It really was good seeing you, Andrew,” Tara said.
Jake grabbed his sister’s sleeve and dragged her off, not even giving a wave as they headed for the car.
“Prick,” Andrew muttered from the open doorway. He watched Jake’s car rapidly start to back off the driveway, tires squealing before suddenly veering across the lawn, grass and dirt flying everywhere. The car bounced off curb then did a wild spin, before speeding off towards the main road.
“What do you expect?” muttered Andrew’s dad, appearing behind him, beer in hand. “They don’t want anything to do with this.”
“It’s not like we’re trying to get them to join a cult,” snapped Andrew.
His dad just snorted and walked back over to the couch.
Andrew finally thought to turn his attention back to Elliott, who looked like he was about to fall apart.
“You want to come outside?” said Andrew spontaneously. Maybe it would get the recent events off their minds. “Take a walk? Get some air?”
“I’m going to lie down,” said Elliott tightly. Clutching his belly, he waddled back into their room.
-
It was a few days later, and the couple was arriving home from campus in the early evening. They sat silently in the car for a while, staring forward, both exhausted. As much as Andrew enjoyed Elliott’s pregnancy, this certainly wasn’t easy.
“I don’t want to get up,” Elliott mumbled, his hands resting on either side of his heaving midsection.
“Looks like my parents are out,” said Andrew, noticing the absence of cars in the driveway. With a sigh, he got out of the car and went to Elliott’s door, opening it. “Come on, let’s go.”
Elliott groaned, yet complied as Andrew took his hands and helped haul him out of the vehicle.
Andrew could not help noticing that Elliott’s tits looked particularly fat that day in the T-shirt Elliott had crammed himself into. Sometimes Elliott would cup them, grimacing as he stared down at them.
“What the fuck,” Elliott finally muttered. “Look at these things. They freaking popped out of nowhere! They belong on a fuckin porn star!”
“It’s not that bad…” Andrew lied. He gulped, as he stared at them.
They got inside, Andrew’s shoulder starting to hurt from how heavily Elliott was leaning on him. But he was getting used to it. He was all Elliott had. He was Elliott's rock, and they would get through this together. There was no alternative.
“Do we have to go in there?” Elliott complained as they approached their little room that felt more like a prison these days.
“You said you needed to lie down,” Andrew responded. He didn’t mention that his mother didn’t want Elliott on the couch anymore. She said he was flattening the cushions.
“It’s claustrophobic,” Elliott retorted. “It’s tiny. I can hardly breathe. I feel like my gut takes over the whole space!”
“You’re over-exaggerating,” said Andrew as he thought about the way he was constantly bumped, shoved, and forced to maneuver around Elliott’s belly in the small space. Admittedly, it was getting pretty cramped in there.
“I can’t take this anymore. I’m sorry, but your family is awful. Let’s just get out of here. We have the money!”
It was a bad idea. “It’s just not consistent income, El. I mean, it’s great, what you’re doing, but the modeling thing isn’t exactly a permanent job for you….”
“Who cares? We’ll figure it out,” said Elliott, as they drew yet closer to the door. “This place is hell. I can’t take it anymore.” He was starting to hyperventilate.
“Hey, come on, relax, stress isn’t good for you. You’ll feel better after you lie down.”
They had finally reached the door to their bedroom. Andrew opened it and started to help Elliott inside. Then Elliott stopped for some reason.
“Elliott, let’s just go in and talk about this.”
“I — I can’t.”
“Yes you can, let’s just —”
“I don’t fit,” Elliott stammered.
Andrew finally turned his attention to the door. It wasn’t a full-sized door, perhaps eighty percent the width of an average one. Still, he was certain his husband was joking, until he spotted where Elliott’s belly was pressing into the frame. Unable to pass through it. Andrew stared, at a complete loss for words. But for some reason, his cock stirred.
He had noticed the way the sides of Elliott’s belly had started to brush against the doorframe every time he passed through it. Later, Elliott’s belly sort of scraped against it, but Elliott just grimaced and tolerated it the way he did everything else about this pregnancy. His belly had certainly gotten wide. Big, and round, and wide. Wider than the rest of him. And now, wider than the door frame into their bedroom, evidently.
“What — the — fuck?” Elliott cried, taking a step back, and looking distinctly dizzy. “What the fuck!”
Andrew felt dizzy too. He was supposed to be the controlled one. “It’s…let’s just talk this through,” he managed.
“Fuck!” Elliott shouted, having a full on meltdown. But then something else happened. At the worst possible time (truly the worst moment), his swollen nipples seemed to grow even more pronounced in his top. The material darkened, dark patches of moisture blossoming on the T-shirt.
Elliott felt it. He stared down at himself in shock.
Andrew could hardly hold it together. “Elliott —”
Elliott’s eyes rolled upwards. Holy hell, he was — he was fainting! Andrew just managed to grab him and soften his landing as they both sank to the floor.
