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From: an338903@cris.com (Jackie)
Subject: Repost: "My Preggiful Days" Part 1a <preg, lactation, m/f, f/f>
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Hi again,

I haven't seen many stories posted about a woman's sex life while she is
pregnant and *really* round and bloated, so I thought I'd write about my
last pregnancy. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have
enjoyed writing it. If you want to hear more, let me know.

Any comments; pats on the back, tummy, or elsewhere; and constructive
criticisms will be *gratefully* accepted. Flames will be totally ignored.
Thanks.

E-huggs,

Jackie
xoxox
an338903@cris.com

================================================

This fictional story contains graphic descriptions of  *all* types of vanilla
and kinky sexual acts between a *very* pregnant female and a non-related
male or female. If you:

     a) Are under 18 years old
     b) Are offended by any graphic actions
     c) Feel these are against your Community Standards
     d) Feel that a pregnant woman should stay home in a rocking chair,
          looking motherly

Please STOP reading and IMMEDIATELY LEAVE and CLOSE this 
file !!!!!

================================================

                My Preggiful Days

             Part 1a of 4 (version 1.0)

              (Copyright 1996, 1997)

           by Jackie (an338903@cris.com)


I had always thought when I became pregnant my sex life would slow
down drastically or even completely stop, but it has not only increased
*but* greatly improved. At first, I missed my dear boyfriend, who had
suddenly found a job in Australia, of all places, but once I started vastly
"showing," I had more male (and some female) attention than my poor
bloated body could handle.

I knew being 20 years old, single, and pregnant was going to be very hard
on me, but early on, I decided I was going to have, and keep, the baby no
matter what happened. Then, I find out it's not "baby" *but* "babies" ~~
I'm pregnant with TWINS !! It's nobody's fault but *mine* for having hot
wild, but mostly unprotected, sex a couple times a week ~~ at least
"pregnant" was the only thing I got.

Just into my seventh month (week 29 LMP), this happy-ordeal has greatly
improved my "social" life, but taken a huge toll on my previously firm
young body. I could never have guessed how much *both* have changed.

This "bod" *was* a statuesque and voluptuous 36DD-26-37, almost 5' 1-
1/4" (hey, every quarter inch counts at my height), about 111 lbs. naked
(and soaking wet), a firm waist with a deep "innie," and solid round
bubbles for butt cheeks. My porcelain-white skin is still crowned by my
sparkling emerald-green eyes and my long flaming red hair, both inherited
from my Irish forebears. (I've been told my flaming red hair aptly
reflected the boiling inferno that would suddenly erupt throughout my
tender young body when it was even *lightly* stroked.) 

Over the years at Lake Wini, my bod would attract *all* the young guys
attention from far away ~~ mostly because I would stick a twinkling faux
emerald in my belly button. As I bounced closer, the bolder guys used to
huskily whisper that I looked "just eatable" in my small, tight two-piece
black thong bikini.

If I was "in the mood," I would kneel next to one of those guys, hotly
whispering back, "Looks like your snake needs a little taming," as I gave
his hardening joy-stick a firm playful squeeze. If that guy didn't turn beet-
red, running away with his "tail" wagging between his legs, I would let
him help me practice my "flute" lessons in the wooded area behind the
changing rooms. They always told me that I deserved to be a "first chair."

In those days before AIDS, I just couldn't get enough sperm. I always
loved it fresh and hot, directly from the guy's spout. On uncut guys, I
simply loved to wiggle my tongue inside his wrinkled nipple, getting
every last little bit.

Later, I'd wriggle down my throng and let him hotly nibble on his juicy
"desert." I never had a guy turn me down, even if they didn't like "muff
diving."

My almost-bare, well-oiled tan bulges glistening in the bright sun
*always* raised some fine-looking elongated lumps in those guy's form-
fitting red speedo suits. As my sparkling assets *slowly* strutted, jiggled,
and wiggled by, those long fat snakes would wriggle and thrash under
those ultra-tight thin red suits, like caged animals seeking escape. I'm sure
*they* knew exactly "where" they wanted to deeply burrow and nest.

I truly felt like a naughty Indian snake charmer as those "cobras" flared
their purple helmeted heads, starting to spit. Having lovingly sampled
some and deftly stroked the full lethal-length of others in the bare flesh, I
knew those tight thin speedos were fighting a losing battle against those
wriggling mound-making snakes. Just after my parade, most of those guys
usually decided to quickly flip over and begin tanning their backs, but later
left a *deep* impression in the sand when the rest of their body finally got
up. <giggle>

It *always* started my barely-covered pink pussy pouting just watching
how the couple of *really* lanky snakes would steadily inflate longer and
longer, puffing up fatter and fatter, making huge expanding ripples in
those form-fitting red suits.. Most times, *I* never had to go in the water
to get *very* "wet." 

Antonio was my favorite guy to tease at the lake. His monster enlarged so
much that it would quickly burrow clear across his groin, then begin
curving around his hip. It left such a huge mound that only a grossly over-
stuffed Italian salami could have filled it. 

I usually stood very erotically and chatted with him as he lay on his back
in the sand. I would do all I could to excite that monster even further,
while constantly stealing peeks, feeling my plump puffy pussy getting
wetter and wetter. 

One hand might adjust my thong bottom, sometimes letting one puffy
pouting lip "accidentally" pop free, glistening in the sunlight from my hot
horny juices. Of course, I would "blush" and say, "Excuse me," slowly
covering it back up, as I stared at that huge salami thrashing and bloating
even fatter and longer.

Antonio was very proud of his huge god-given gift, never covering it up
like most of the guys. His suit was so tight and that salami so huge, it was
easily to tell that he was cut. That thin suit molded that bloated monster
sooo well that every bump, vein, and ridge vividly showed. It actually was
*better* than seeing him naked cause there was something *very* naughty
about seeing him this way.

Once when I bent over to examine a bruise on his muscular thigh, his eyes
got a perfect view of my huge round jiggling globes with their tiny black
triangular cloth covering ~~ only inches away. From the corner of my eye,
I could see him lick his lips, letting his wide tongue slowly slide across, as
if it was leaving a wet heated trail on my tingling jiggling breast-flesh.

My eyes, though, got a beautiful view of his long fat salami as it wriggled
under that thin tight second skin. These wet parted lips, only inches away,
felt singed from the intense heat radiating from that throbbing python. His
male aroma smelled heavenly, making my head swoon and my breasts
wobble even more. It took all my restraint to keep from hotly kissing
along its entire humongous length, fat inch by fat inch, hot wet kiss by hot
wet kiss. Our unspoken rule was "look all you want, but no touching" ~~
double damn, but it gave me something to masturbate about later on.

Most times while I intently watched, he would slowly shift and adjust that
huge long cannon, allowing it to spread even longer and fatter ~~ I guess
we both liked to tease. Unfortunately, Antonio moved the following
spring, so I never did get to see, feel, or savor that cannon exploding its
snowy-white globs of sweet gooey nectar, although I did have one very
hot, wet summer.

Where ever I was, those tiny triangles on that minuscule black string-top
could hardly contain my large firm balloons, just about covering my wide
dark areola (about the size of large sand-dollars). My long fat nipples were
always obviously poking through that thin material, making tall tents of
their own. Adjusting my top near an older gentleman might give "rise" to
a heated conversation, or simply, a violent thrashing heart attack.

The black thong bottom hardly kissed my evenly tanned buns, so easily
slipping into my butt crack. The front only just covered my pink pussy lips
and curly fiery-red forest ~~ that is, if I shaved off the curly red hair
almost up to each proud protruding lip. 

Girls would giggle, and women snicker, as I strutted by, because they were
"green with envy," wishing they had even half of what I had. Once a girl
told me, "You'll get yours in the end !!" I just wiggled my bouncing
almost-bare buns directly in her face, spreading them as wide as possible.
Then, I replied in a slow Southern drawl, "I *surely* hope so. Indeedy, I
do" as I slowly strutted away. She only screeched, then pouted.

I always loved my beautiful svelte body. I could dance for hours *naked*
in front of my full-length bedroom mirror watching my body's image glide
like a ballerina ~~ from the front, the back, and even looking over my
sensuous creamy shoulder. My huge milky-white spheres would float in
mid-air like two gigantic glistening soap bubbles, their long hard red
nipples jutting way out in front. I never understood why my large round
globes never sagged like other girls the same size, but I also never
questioned it, just said a few more "Hail Marys" on Sunday.

My pregnancy changed all that ~~ some better, some worse. In both cases,
I soon decided I was going to make the best of it. I wasn't proud of being
single and pregnant, but since I was and couldn't realistically change it, it
was "water over the dam" to me. 

I had always heard that some men *really* adored a full-blown pregnant
body and *I* was going to find out exactly "how much." What surprised
me most though, was how many "women" *also* liked a big bellied
pregnant woman too !! 

Instead of hiding my pregnancy with A-lines that hung like tents, trying to
camouflage everything, *all* my tops and dresses have an "empire waist."
This style has a tight elastic just below the breasts, emphasizing *both*
my bloated breasts and my bulging belly to their glorious maximum. Now-
a-days, there sure is a whole heap to emphasize !! 

My breasts have ballooned to a 42-DDDD (=42G), and may inflate even
larger and fuller. (I think they know that they will have two *very* hungry
twins to feed.) Just envision one of those smooth large yellowish-green
"Honey Dew" melons, *not* one of those small piddling cantaloupes,
from the produce section of your favorite supermarket. Now DOUBLE its
length into an oval. That's about what *each* of those delicious hanging
hooters looks like.

My "waist" around that bulging beachball belly was over 65 inches the
last time I measured, and by now, it must be over 70 inches !! That
wobbling beachball of a belly *now* sticks straight out over 22 inches (!!)
*further* than before I was pregnant. Just that in itself is totally mind
boggling. 

*You* may have trouble envisioning a belly jutting that far out, but *I*
have to cart it around all day !! You guys and gals with fairly flat guts can
try this: Push an 18" (*not* a 12") plastic ruler as far as it will go into
your navel (feels good, doesn't it <giggle>). Now *add* 4 or 5 inches to the
end, depending on how deeply that ruler's tickling your belly button's 
inner flesh <smile>. That is about how far my bulging beachball of a belly
sticks out in front, *and* my pop'd belly button sticks out another inch !!.

With my "vertically challenged" stature, my ballooning uterus with those
twins first filled up *every* nook and cranny in my whole torso, all the
way up to my esophagus. Then, the only way for it to go was jutting out
further and further. I may end up *wider* front-to-back than I am tall
<grin>.

Both look simply enormous on my 5' 1-1/4" frame, adding almost 66 lbs.
(!!) in just those *two* areas, since my thighs have remained at about their
pre-pregnancy circumference. And you wonder why I always feel like I'm
toppling over frontwards like a wobbling "duck pin".

In addition to those, there have been smaller changes, such as my nipples
growing even longer and much fatter, becoming a dark reddish-brown
with a rubbery texture and poking out over an inch when excited; my dark
reddish-brown areola have expanded to about 3 inches across and become
very puffy near the nipples, super-cone-shaped;  my belly button has pop'd
far out, now looking like a small 1" stalk on which I can even hang objects
<giggle>; and finally, my "black badge of courage," a vertical line which
begins at the base of my belly and runs all the way around (about 6 miles),
ending at the base of my breasts.

You will understand better as I relate to you about my body's changes, my
experiences, and how I learned to make the best of them, rather than
sitting home sulking and crying.

Part 1 will revolve around the changes to my breasts, while parts 2-4 will
revolve around the changes to my reddish-brown rubbery nipples; my
bloated bulging belly; and my pouting pink pussy, respectively.

I.   My Bloated Breasts

The first change I noticed was my beautiful floating globes quickly
became huge sagging sacks. Overnight, "plunk," gravity set in !! At first
this utterly depressed me,  *but* I quickly realized that most guys didn't
care ~~ they enjoyed "hangers" and "floppers" as long as they were l-a-r-g-e.

So you can *fully* grasp the huge difference, let's create a very graphic
comparison. Go find four large pink balloons. (For you guys, you can even
draw wide red circles around the four tips with a red magic marker for
"reality.") 

For the "before," fill two pretty pink balloons with helium to about the
size of a large "Honey Dew" melon. I am sure you can envision these
perfectly round globes floating around, jiggling and bouncing as I moved.
Remember not nibbling on those balloons ~~ yet. 

(Psst, guys ~~ sneak these under a thin white T-shirt to see what they
*really* feel like. I won't tell. Maybe, you can even see those red circles
through the T-shirt in a mirror. Better still, borrow a bra from your girl
friend, or even your mother ~~ she probably has larger cups. Slip it on,
[hint: the cups go in the front <giggle>], then put *only* one balloon in
each cup. Finally, strut around and see how you look.)

Now for the "after." Fill the other two pink balloons with *warm* water to
about the size of a medium watermelon. Don't forget to securely close the
spout or you might end up dribbling down into your "shorts." 

I don't think I have to tell you, but *both* drastically droop, resembling
extra-long skinny watermelons, sloshing around as you walk. They
*never* even think about jiggling, only sway from side to side like twin
bags of cement. There you have it ~~ a vivid "before" and "after" !! 

(Psst, guys ~~ try sneaking *these* under that thin white T-shirt, then
watch them hang down, *well* into your shorts. That red nipple you drew
is now lower than your navel. Either is much too large to fit in a single bra
cup, even if you try to put the *same* one in both cups, unless your
mother or girl friend is Wendy Whoppers or Yolanda. As an added bonus:
if you position one warm "hanger" on each side of  "junior" and add a
little lubrication [if there's not enough already <giggle>], you've created a
warm soothing do-it-yourself "tit-fuck" as you walk, strut, or skip.)

On the plus-side (yes, a double entendre), both have now ballooned even
larger, to at least a 40-DDDD cup size (=> 40-G). Where I could easily go
braless before, I now need two cranes just to hold those bloated
watermelons up. The furrows in my shoulders from those straining bra
straps are getting sooo deep, I have been told that I should apply for a
"farm subsidy."

(I guess, though, I should consider myself lucky. A woman I knew through
natural child-birth class gave birth about a week ago. Her huge hooters
have ballooned out to a 42-H, yes that's 42-DDDDD and will probably
grow even fuller as her breasts *really* get into the swing of producing
milk. The only way she is going to get those milk jugs around is with a
wheel barrow.)

And the "good" news ~~ my doctor said that my torpedoes will shoot out
even further and much, much fuller once I begin to regularly breast-feed.
Then I'll need a super-crane to hold those two other cranes up. Just great, I
can hardly wait ~~ by then, I could feed a whole city block with those two
taut bloated milk machines alone. [Don't you wish *you* lived on my
block. <giggle>]

I *will* get a tax advantage from this pregnancy. My bra cups have gotten
so immense that I'm donating my used bras to NASA. They are using
them as nose covers for those twin fuel tanks on the Space Shuttle. Since
they are already joined together, one mighty tug and they both come right
off instantly. This saves the government millions and look at my tax
write-off.

                     * * * * *

Not only have my bra cups hugely expanded to handle my greatly
increased size, but the width of my bra strap has as well. It now covers
most of the upper third of my back. It looks like I'm wearing a back-brace,
well, maybe I am. I feel like I'm strapping myself into a straight jacket
every morning.

I used to only have to worry about connecting 4-5 hooks each morning,
now that count is somewhere up around 9-10, or even more, hooks. You
can't hook *these* bras in the front, then spin them around. It takes me
almost a half hour *every* morning just to "buckle up," or is that "get
saddled." If some guy comes up behind me and whispers, "giddyap,"
"pow" right in the ol' schnozzle.

Just for fun the other day, I wore a black maternity bra with 9 hooks under
a sheer white silk blouse. (I like to tease with my body, as if you hadn't
already guessed.) I had a guy following me around all morning, just
staring at my back, sometimes licking his lips. 

Maybe, he was counting my bra hooks. He didn't seem at all interested in
my front. Talk about a "hook-up," err, "hang-up." Do you think he could
have been from the Department of Motor Vehicles doing an unscheduled
inspection of the strain on my overloaded chassis ?? I mean if that strap
ever broke, "bong," there would be mountains of tit everywhere.

I have always had one question. Do "bra-guys" compare us like the big
game hunters do ?? A big game hunter going after moose will say, "I
bagged a 6 pointer today," as a broad smile spreads over his face. Will a
"bra-guy" say, "I bagged an 9-hooker today. Tomorrow, I'm going after a
10-hooker," as he puffs out his chest with a grandiose show of pride ??

                     * * * * *

Right now, any hanging pendant or "lariat" necklace that I wear is forever
lost, squished and buried between those twin bloated mountains. My
favorite is a "lariat" necklace with a silver chain and small pieces of
turquoise stone around the neck loop. At the end of the single hanging
strand is a turquoise-shaped arrowhead with its tip pointing down into the
deep valley between my breasts, where else ?

Last week, I waddled to the zoo looking "very pregnant" in my blue denim
stretch maternity shorts and white "low v-neck" baby-doll style top. I
purposely wore a fire-engine-red stretch bra under that sheer tight white
top so it would vividly show through. Looking in a mirror before I left,
every hook on my mile-wide red bra strap and every swirl on my over-
stuffed red cups was totally visible through that sheer white top. 

Roughly rubbing my fat nipples, I noted with glee that those now-erect
bullets visibly poked out over an inch through those thin tight layers.
Teasing still is "fun," even with my bloated pg body. That tight white
baby-doll top fully emphasized my bulging motherly breasts and hugely
bloated belly, hiding absolutely nothing and making me look even *more*
pregnant, if that were possible. What was I trying to hide though, "I am
*very* pregnant !!" 

Even at that zoo among those passive animals, at least four guys, and two
girls (!!), asked to closely examine that turquoise arrowhead. (I never
before viewed the "zoo" as a "pick-up" place, maybe I have been missing
something.) *All* then quickly tried to slip their warm wiggling fingers
down between those bra-busting udders to fetch it for me. I only let two
cute guys, and both pretty girls, succeed. (I guess the zoo *really* is the
right place to see erotic, err exotic, male and female animals; or to
"monkey" around.)

The "good" news was that twenty warm stroking and searching fingers
caressing that plump pliable flesh felt sooo good that a vertical wet line
almost-immediately developed on my tight red over-stuffed panties. The
"bad" news was that not all twenty fingers were caressing, jiggling,
massaging, and stroking my bloated yearning tit-flesh, wrinkled areola,
and stiff nipples at once! 

Gary, the cutest guy, even let his warm searching fingers roam from my
deep valley around front to one fat hard nipple, "accidentally" stroking its
puckered reddish-brown tip while trying to fish out that "lost" arrowhead.
That excited nipple immediately jutted out further, both fatter and harder,
having found a new intimate friend. While I tried to act aloof, my swelling
breast could distinctly feel every motion of those hot fingers as they
stroked that bloated creamy flesh with its puffy blue veins, then again
snuck around front to graze both my bumpy shriveled areola and erect
nipple, making my shiver. 

By now, my red stretch-bra began to feel sooo very tight, straining, as
more and more hot expanding tit-flesh spilled out of those over-stretched
cups. As my panting increased, I could no longer remain aloof. My
pouting puss oozed out more and more making my sheer panties sopping
wet, forcing me to gently rub my heated thighs together. 

His mischievous sparkling eyes always stared straight at me, watching me
wiggle and shiver, as those fingers played their naughty game with my
poor fat defenseless nipple. He seemed to know exactly what my bloated
body needed. My eyes, though, demurely looked down, watching with
increasing interest a growing bulge sprout under his tight faded jeans.

When I didn't protest, only deeply "sighed," a broad grin spread across his
intense face. Now, those warm fingers began vigorously tweaking both
bullet-hard nipples, making my pouting pussy juice even more. Even
though I wasn't wearing a nursing bra or a top with vertical nursing slits,
once *my* hand "accidentally" brushed that hard bulge lunging out in the
front of his faded jeans, I knew that our meeting wasn't going to end with
only a quick feel. 

Temporarily removing his hand from the "V" of my baby-doll top, Gary
led me waddling into a wooded tract at the edge of a deserted picnic area,
hotly nibbling at my ear along the way. He helped me wiggle my
wobbling body up on the end of a picnic table, putting my bloated
balloons now at the proper height, while allowing my bloated pg belly to
hang between my widely spread legs. 

Standing between those widely spread legs, he began sensuously rubbing
the top and sides of my firm round beachball through my baby-doll top,
making me loudly purr a chorus of  "Ooooooos" and "Ahhhhhhs." His
caresses on my bulging belly felt sooo good, bloating it out further and
even making my pussy begin to drool. 

Then, he slid his hands up to my panting bloated balloons, squeezing them
together through my top and bra, enjoying the way my breast-flesh bulged
even further out that "V" in the center. While his hands were busy, he
lowered his hot moist lips, beginning to hotly kiss and nibble those
overflowing bulges through that "V." Every once in a while, he'd blow a
gust of hot breath into that deep valley between those mountains, making
my whole body violently shiver, then pant with desire. 

Finally, he slowly lifted the "skirt" of my white baby-doll top, like a
treasure-hunter uncovering a priceless jewel. Only uncovering my huge
bulging beachball at first, Gary marveled at its gigantic size. His hot palms
had to handle that wobbling sphere all over, first rubbing, then pressing
like he was testing the firmness of some huge fresh fruit. 

Again, those hot moist lips went immediately to work, covering every inch
of that huge bloated sphere with hot moist kisses, occasionally tickling
some taut belly-flesh with his firm pointed tongue. He even spent a couple
minutes suckling on my pop'd belly button, as if he had found a third
nipple. If my tight red panties weren't sopping wet before, they surely
were now.

Next, Gary lifted the empire-waist elastic over my breasts, bringing those
red-encased monsters finally into full view. I thought that his eyes would
pop out of his head when he saw the size of my heaving milky-white
melons barely encased in that red stretch-bra. After a silence and a very
deep breath, all Gary could say was "Whooooeeeee," as his tongue
actively licked his lips.

My puckered dark reddish-brown nipples showed vividly through my
sheer red stretch-bra. Arching my back, I made those hard fat nubs poke
out even further through that thin straining bra material.

Gary's eyes got big as saucers and now his panting mouth hung open,
even drooling a little. I could hear his breathing quicken further, while his
right hand scratched the itch at the tip of *his* mountain. While still
partially encased in my red stretch bra, both his hands quickly attacked
those whoppers ~~ squeezing, rubbing, and mushing them together,
making my breathing now come in "gasps." 

My right breast began oozing out of that overstretched and overburdened
red bra, then suddenly "pop'd" fully out. Bursting out so fast, I thought
Gary was going to get whompped, ending up with a black eye. That
bloated boob expanded downward, like a huge unhooked accordion,
slinking further and further down, covering most bare pink flesh on the
right side of my huge wobbling beachball belly. Finally stopping, my long
puckered reddish-brown nipple could almost kiss my pop'd stem of a belly
button.

Finally, I had to push Gary's hot hands away, seeing a hurt puppy-dog
look appear on his face. As I reached behind to unhook my bra, I asked
Gary, "Would you like to play Baby ?"

All Gary could do was glow, like a kid with a new toy, then slowly nod his
head in the affirmative. His ogling eyes never left my remaining whopper
as it finally tumbled free. Creamy bloated breast-flesh now totally covered
the upper two-thirds of that pink beachball belly ~~ they were much more
than just "hangers" now, it was like somebody had balanced two medium
water-melons, side by side, on the shelf-top of my swollen belly. 

With one hand, I picked up the end of my right melon, while with the
other I pulled Gary's head toward its fat needy nipple. First, his hot lips
wetly kissed my whole wrinkled reddish-brown areola, leaving a trail of
shivers down my spine in their wake. Gary sure was an "oral" guy. 

Next, his parted wet lips sucked in that whole fat nipple in a single
"swoop" and began vigorously suckling on it, while tweaking its rubbery
nub with his tongue's hard wet tip. The hot wetness of his saliva felt sooo
good as it completely coated those wrinkles, both valleys and peaks, of
that still-swelling udder.  

"Suck me harder, Gary. Suck *hard* on that bloated milk machine," I
hotly whispered, my bloated body needing to feel even stronger
sensations.

Those jolting and rippling sensations finally became sooo great that I had
to quickly grab onto the edge of that picnic table top to keep from toppling
over. One tiny climax for womankind. I could feel a large wet spot
forming on the front of my shorts, but right now, I didn't care..

After regaining my balance, I *intentionally* began undulating and
rocking that pouting puffy pussy against that rough table edge. My plush
tush pulled, then released, that sopping panty crotch over my drenched lips
and very hard clitty, then deep into my wet yearning crevice. 

Gary was too busy suckling, but *I* could surely hear the louder and
louder "squishing" noise as that panty crotch was pulled in and out my
sopping-wet dripping slit, parting and flaring those pink puffy pussy lips
even further. Even all that wetness couldn't drench the fire that was slowly
building, glowing hotter and hotter between my thighs.

As I rocked and wiggled, panted and groaned, I let one hand slip down the
front of Gary's tight faded jeans, pressing and rubbing his obscene
thrashing tent pole. Feeling it so strongly pulse and jump under my
caresses, my panting body wanted so much more, so both hands slipped
down and slowly lowered his zipper. 

Sneaking inside those moist jeans, my warm fingers felt his semi-hard
cock arching painfully, still imprisoned in his taut white cotton briefs.
Those tickling and caressing finger tips could feel the multiple wet spots
in that cotton material where his hot sticky precum had oozed through as
that bloating cock had wiggled and thrashed, desperately attempting to
poke free.

Those fingers squeezed along its total length through those damp briefs,
feeling it twist and jump, spewing out more and more hot sticky goo. They
found the current hot puddle, gently tickling the flared edges of its
bubbling piss-slit through that almost-transparent tightly-stretched white
cotton.

Gary wiggled his hips and "sighed" deeply as I finally freed his semi-hard
cut cock, letting it hang drooping from the fly. I have always found the
spectacle of a semi-hard cock hanging out the fly of white cotton briefs to
be highly erotic. His was even more so, because of his fleshy tube's dark
tan color, contrasting so vividly with the white of those briefs.

It was only 4 to 5 inches long, but appeared much larger because of his
slim hips and waist. That wiggling tube looked sooo beautiful, like it
belonged on a Greek sculpture. Its heart-shaped bloated purple helmet
over-hung the stalk hugely, by about ½ inch all the way around. I could
envision my warm wet lips gently pulling and pushing on that wide
overhang, making a loud "popping" sound, as that purple crown slid in
and out of my hot wet mouth.

I enjoyed watching it wriggle and twist, bloating and engorging further,
begging for *any* attention while Gary continued to vigorously suckle on
my heaving bloated breasts. Periodically, it firmly rubbed against my
smooth bare leg, leaving a warm wet gooey spot to mark its visit. These
visits became more and more frequent as Gary's passion rose higher and
higher. At one point, I thought Gary was humping my leg like a dog,
trying harder and harder to get off.

Finally, I wrapped my hot hand completely around it and began slowly
stroking it full bloated length. I watched the little bubbles of hot gooey
pre-cum get pumped out of its flaring piss-slit, now fully coating its large
purple head. That plump beckoning head sparkled and glistened as it
swayed in the bright sunlight. My hand began smearing that hot ooze up
and down that rock-solid stalk with each stroke, fully lubricating its entire
engorged length. 

With only three or four rough strokes, his fleshy pole became a super-hard
spike, veins bulging from its solid pink shaft. It still was only slightly
more than five inches long, but jutted out horizontally sooo proud and
stately. Oozing gallons of pre-cum, my small hand now "squished" as it
stroked back and forth along that rock-solid rod, taking on a white sheen. 

Most of Gary's "sighs" and "moans" were muffled by all my creamy tit-
flesh stuffed tightly in his mouth ~~ there still was more than three-
quarters left hanging lonely outside. Those "moans" became more and
more intense, and his suckling became more and more animated, as Gary
got closer and closer to cummin. My hand could now feel his stiff pole
begin throbbing, almost ready to explode.

Suddenly, Gary stopped suckling and reached over to begin pulling down
my wet bulging shorts. My hand stopped his hands, then looking in his
eyes, I pleaded, "Please, the first squirts go on my breasts."

Grinning widely, he gingerly helped me down, then sat me on the attached
bench of the picnic table, at a much better height for what was to come.
Gary quickly began a frenzied stroking of his hot bubbling rod, rubbing
that slick purple head in wet circles against my heaving breast-flesh,
sometimes tweaking a fat erect nipple. 

I could clearly hear his breathing become more ragged as that purple
mushroom expanded, pumping out more and more precum with each
vigorous stroke. The loud "squishing" sound as his pumping hand moved
up and down that pre-cum covered rod became the "music" that intensely
fueled my growing excitement. 

Every once in a while, I would lean down and lick that bubbling purple
crown with my hot rough tongue. I could feel his weaving body quiver,
while still attempting to hold my baby-doll top up out of the way with my
other hand. (I was afraid to take it off in case we were surprised by a zoo
employee.)

Twice, I slipped that whole glistening bulbous head in my hot greedy
mouth, making "slurping" sounds as I tickled that flaring piss-slit with the
tip of my pink tongue. Every time, Gary's "grunts" would quickly switch
to low prolonged "moans." Then, I would twist and snake that stiff wanton
tongue under that wide purple overhang, teasing that silky sensitive flesh,
making those "moans" even louder.

As Gary got very, very close, my free hand reached into his tight jeans and
caressed his large balls through those moist cotton briefs. My finger tips
could feel the heat radiating from those bloated spheres, wanting ever soo
badly to release their hot baby-making juice. I could distinctly feel them
pulse and jump as I rotated and jiggled those large eggs in their sweaty
silken pouch.

Soon Gary yelled, "I'm allllmmmmmost theeeerrrre," and intensified his
frantic stroking. With one hand, I hoisted my baby-doll top even higher,
while the other now roughly squeezed those bouncing nuts.

"Common Babe," I breathlessly whispered to Gary, "Squirt your hot wet
baby-making juice all over my ballooning breasts and beachball belly."

With a loud "Aaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhh," Gary arched his back and began
thrashing and jerking, spewing his hot milky seed all over my hugely
ballooned breasts and bloated pregnant belly. My eyes watched those
white ropy jets of thick cum erupt out, like long strands of that  silly-
string," then land with a "plop" on my heaving breasts or bloated belly. 

Globs were everywhere as that purple cannon shot wad after wad toward
its huge bloated targets. Gary mustn't have jerked-off in weeks, cause
there was at least a gallon of gooey milky blobs of hot jism by the time he
finally finished. My bloated pink belly had taken the most direct hits, now
looking like a huge polka-dotted pink beachball, wobbling with my
"gasps."

The finale produced a perfect picture. Gary standing there holding his slick
expended cock with the last long ropy strand hanging from its still-bloated
purple tip over to one of my glossy reddish-brown erect nipples. I just had
to wrap that last strand around my finger, slipping it between my red
parted lips. "Mmmmmm. You taste sooo good," I slowly whispered up to
Gary.

My palms slowly rubbed all that rich creamy hot baby-making juice into
my bloated belly (seemed appropriate) and bulging breasts, making me
tingle even more. I had heard that it was great to keep my skin moist and
supple.

Dropping my baby-doll top down over my shiny wet breasts and belly, I
pulled Gary closer. Spreading my legs further, I pressed his warm shaking
hand on my wet crotch. "Is this what you wanted before ?" I asked with a
devilish gleam in my eyes.

I moved that naughty hand up and down, letting him feel my puffy lips
and deep crevice through my soaking shorts. "Ooooooo, that feels sooo
good," I hotly purred.

Wrapping my hand around his wilted staff, I gently tugged and pulled,
feeling it throb and jerk, slowly coming back to life. "Gary, feel how hard
my fat clitty is for *you*," I whispered, feeling that spear get even harder
just from the sound of my words. In a few minutes, "He'd be ready for the
second course," I thought, "drilling deep inside my oozing yearning love-
tunnel."

Gary had just begun vigorously rubbing my pussy through my denim
shorts, letting a firm finger trace my puffy pussy lips, when a rustling
sound forced us to abruptly stop. An older couple had come to picnic no
more than fifteen feet away, on the other side of some tall bushes. 

Luckily, they hadn't seen us yet. If they'd taken the path to our site five
minutes later, they'd seen a only partly naked, but very animated rendering
of "the birds and the bees." 

That close-call completely freaked me out, snapping me back to reality.
"After all," I thought, "I was a mother-to-be !" 

Frustrated and still very turned-on, I hotly whispered to Gary, "Take me
home," so we could more privately finish, while I wetly nibbled on his ear. 

I added with intensity, "I *really* want to feel your wonderful stiff rod
deep inside my hot wet pussy, that fat purple head poking right against my
womb." 

Hesitantly, and a little embarrassed, Gary confessed that he was meeting
his mother and younger sister at the entrance to the zoo in forty-five
minutes ~~ he had driven them here. They were off looking at "other"
exhibits.  

"Wow," I immediately thought, "neither *he* nor his fat dripping cock
looked *that young* !!" 

Too scared to "fool around" anymore out in the open, we pulled our
clothing together, parting with a warm sexy french kiss that tingled right
down to my toes. Even though I was still *very* frustrated, at least my
breasts and belly had gotten a hot creamy massage, and *he* had gotten
satisfied. In hindsight, our parting actually worked out for the best.

                     * * * * *

Later that afternoon, as I was standing in front of the monkey cage, a
young Spanish couple came up wheeling a very young baby. They were
smiling and holding hands as they walked, seeming very much in love. I
guessed that the girl was around sixteen and the guy, maybe, eighteen
years old. 

The girl was about 5' tall with long silky nipple-length black hair,
streaming down her back and pulled away from her face by a single large
golden barrette in the back. She had a perfect pair of full sensuous lips and
intense brown eyes. The only makeup she was wearing was glossy red
lipstick. 

"Funny," I thought, " how pulling her hair so far back made her look so
much younger, while that glossy red lipstick made her look years older.
Quite a contrast and combination!"

She was wearing a white "Spanish dancer-style" blouse with buttons down
the front. Even with three rows of frills across her bust, very much hiding
her breasts, the large gaps between those poor straining buttons implied
that her breasts were *very* engorged. With a baby so young, I suspected
that she was breast-feeding and the frills were to hide her long fat rubbery
nipples that would always be poking out. Even if she wasn't breast-feeding, 
her body sure made a very sweet tantalizing silhouette in the bright sunlight.

The white blouse completely covered her shoulders with the sleeves
ending just above her elbows, but its bottom stopped about three inches
above her waist with a belt-like tie. She had on a pair of white slacks and
white sneakers. Overall, she looked very cute.

Since I was pregnant, what struck me most about her was the firm bare
flesh of her midriff. For a girl that had given birth only a few months
earlier, her tummy looked rock solid and smooth, showing no hint of any
excess fat from the ordeal of her pregnancy. Oh, how I wished I would
look that good 5 months, or even a year, after giving birth.

They were talking in Spanish while trying to read the detailed descriptions
on the cages. It appeared that they didn't understand some of the more
technical English words since they looked very confused, debating back
and forth amongst themselves. Since I had four years of Spanish in high
school, I tried to help by translating some of the problematic words and
phrases. Both were very appreciative, and I learned their names were
Hector and Maria. We wandered around the zoo together most of the
afternoon.

Maria was even nice enough to accompany me every time I had to use the
bathroom, which was a lot. My bloated body just fit sideways into those
narrow stalls, having to *back* in like an 18-wheeler positioning to
unload. That tight space left hardly enough room to wriggle down my
maternity jeans and pup-tent panties.

One time, even Maria yelled with concern, "Jackie, are you OK in there ? I
hear all these banging sounds." It must have sounded like a bongo concert
as my elbows kept hitting those metal walls.

A little breathless, I replied, "I'm OK Maria, but it is *very* tight in here.
I keep hitting the walls." 

All that huffing and puffing was truly worth it though, the shuttering
sensations from all that hot golden liquid sputtering and gushing from my
wet heated pussy was second only to orgasmic bliss. That erupting
waterfall seemed to splash everywhere ~~ in the bowl, on the seat, and on
my thighs. I could even feel hot droplets buffeting my sprouting pink
clitty, making it twist and jerk a little, then hanging from those fiery-red
curls. Reluctantly, that golden deluge subsided into a steady pee, then only
an occasional drip, and finally ceased altogether.

Each wipe of my hot wet pussy with that rough toilet paper was truly a
struggle, but sent electrifying tingles throughout my body as my
blossoming pink bud also got roughly rubbed. With that beachball bloated
out all over the place, I needed much longer arms. It really didn't matter
though, that hot pouting pussy was sooo soggy from my constant
excitement that it would only have stayed dry less than a minute anyway.

Finally, I just sagged there for a minute or two regaining some energy. I
never would have thought that simply going to the bathroom would have
been so "draining," in both senses of the word.

(I had often wondered if that bouncing baby ever peed while still in my
gigantic womb. The answer is "yes." S/he pees directly into the amniotic
fluid. Before you even ask the question, "No, you guys/gals into  water
sports' *cannot* follow me around with a 55-gallon drum waiting for my
 water' to break so you can test out the  flavor' of that fluid.")

With a lot of tugging and much more huffing and puffing, I finally got my
panties pulled all the way up, but try as I might, this time I couldn't get
those maternity pants above my knees.

"Maria, would you please come here and help me," I called as I waddled
from the stall with those blue denim pants in a puddle around my feet.

Maria quickly came over. Her cheeks blossomed pink when she had to
squat down, staring for a minute directly at my pouting pussy. I am sure
she could vividly see the dark wet vertical line along that indention of my
tight red panties, a mixture of my leftover pee and oozing womanly juices.
Her eyes momentarily focused on that poking bump, still slightly
wiggling, caused by my very excited clitty. As she wrinkled her pert nose,
sniffing, she could also smell the musky female aroma of my increasing
arousal.

Glancing down at her, I noted that Maria's white blouse was now
unbuttoned two buttons lower. It bulged out at the top like she had been
reaching in adjusting her bra, or maybe, with her nipples poking out so
obviously hard, rubbing those fat firm bullets. This position gave me a
perfect view of her panting tan engorged breasts, almost spilling out of her
much-to-small stretch bra. "Now, if I had only brought some cookies,"
was the naughty thought repeating over and over in my mind.

Once, when she looked up, she caught me peeking down her blouse at
those panting twin mounds and just smiled sweetly, or maybe it was
devilishly, with a twinkle in her eye. Then she looked over at my bloated
beachball belly, towering over her like this huge wobbling globe. That
cute smile became a little fearful. Maybe, she was afraid that giant sphere
would topple over and crush her like an ant.

After a few minutes of hard work ~~ it *is* hard work pulling up
somebody else's pants when they have a body as bloated as mine, she
finally succeeded. I *really* enjoyed her warm hands sliding over my
smooth legs and creamy thighs, then tugging those jeans up over my hips. 

Her warm soft hands sent constant tingles throughout my body and I'm
sure she could feel me shiver. From that Cheshire cat grin on her face, it
looked like she had enjoyed *herself* also.

What I liked best though, was when she smoothed that elastic front panel
over my beachball belly, then made sure it was not binding across my
crotch. My inflamed pouting pussy felt *every* one of her fingers as they
rubbed and smoothed, then rubbed and smoothed some more, that elastic
panel across my puffy yearning mound. My whole excited body so wanted
her to pull it *down*, not up, but I had to remain disinterested.

Maria finally stood up saying, "There, all done." Her cheeks were now
beet-red, and those frills on her blouse were dynamically moving up and
down from her greatly increased breathing, showing an even more
majestic expanse of beautiful tan flesh. 

I replied a cheerful, "Thanks," as I began valiantly pulling down my
straining baby-doll top over that wobbling bloated beachball. 

As if in a trance, Maria kept staring wide-eyed at my bloated wobbling
belly. Very shyly, she then remarked, "Jackie, I am really surprised at how
huge you are. I was never that big when I was pregnant, even at *nine*
months. Are you carrying triplets ?"

No longer embarrassed by comments like that, I grinned, then pushed out
my partly covered bulging belly even further. Making sure she was still
watching, I patted it at the same time with both hands ~~ letting it bounce
and wiggle a little, then slowly replied, "No, only two babies, Maria. At
least, that's what the doctor tells me. For some reason, I have swelled
obscenely, like I'm carrying quadruplets, *and* I even have *two* months
left."

Still staring wide-eyed, Maria asked, "Would you mind very much if I felt
your tummy. I have never felt any pregnant tummy other than my own and
*never* one as large as yours."

"Her innocent honesty was refreshing," I thought as I chuckled to myself.
Smiling at Maria, I wriggled my baby-doll top back up fully uncovering
that whopper, letting it intentionally bounce and sway as I did so. (I love
to tease.) I then replied, "Go ahead. You're welcome to touch my tummy
all you want." I wanted to add "and anywhere else" but I didn't want to
frighten Maria off.

Maria hesitantly reached over with one hand, just grazing my bulging pink
belly with only her warm fingertips. Just her tentative touch sent a chill
down my spine, ending right between those hot wet parted lips. She
quickly whispered, "Thank-you," then turned and started to swiftly walk
away as if embarrassed.

"Maria, come back," I called. "It *really* didn't hurt when you touched
it," I added as she began to hesitantly walk back.

As soon as she got close enough, I grabbed her left hand and placed her
soft warm palm and fingers flat against my bulging belly. "See, it doesn't
hurt and your touch *even* feels nice to me. Move your hand around, you
might even be able to feel either baby kick." (A "ploy" if I ever spoke
one.)

Maria now moved that warm tender hand gently around my pink beachball
never loosing touch with it. Soon, she began actively feeling it with her
other hand as well. 

After a minute, her eyes tightly closed and she softly "sighed," starting to
breath more heavily. I could see her nipples harden even further through
her blouse. Now, her thighs were pressed firmly together, tighter than a
vise, each periodically rubbing against the other, as if she was doing a
slow silent jig.

That earlier "searching" for my pendant had certainly started my female
juices flowing, creating an "itch" that had subsided, but *not* been
satisfied. Maria's slow gentle caresses now not only rekindled, but even
further intensified that smoldering fire. I felt my pouting pussy begin to
get wet again.

My bulging swaying body was now feeling sooo good that I whispered to
Maria, "Your soft warm hands feel sooo nice rubbing my bloated belly." 

Unfortunately, that seemed to break the magical spell. Maria suddenly
opened her eyes, then abruptly pulled her hands back with a frightened
look on her face. Maybe she fully realized what she had been doing *and*
feeling. 

A little flushed and now appearing more concerned than frightened, she
stared at the floor and hurriedly said, "We should go now. Hector is
waiting," and quickly walked out of the restroom. After pulling myself
together, I waddled after her, both disappointed *and* aroused. I wasn't
sure if I had misjudged Maria's very sensuous actions or if she was just
very frightened from all the mixed-up feelings surfacing in her tiny body. 

For the next hour, Maria kept glancing at my body out of the corner of her
eye, but would quickly look away whenever I caught her. Once when
Hector wasn't watching, I even caught her deliberately rubbing her right
nipple through her blouse, but it might just have been because she was
breast-feeding and it was obvious both breasts were getting very full.

Soon, the baby began crying. Maria looked at me, matter-of-factly saying,
"It's time for Anita's feeding. I have to go to the restroom to feed her."

Because of what had happened earlier, I decided to wait with Hector. After
a few steps, Maria turned saying, "Jackie, please come. I may need your
help and it wouldn't be proper for Hector to be in the Women's area."

I waddled a little behind Maria up to the Women's restroom not knowing
what to expect. When she turned around in the dim light, it looked like wet
spots had formed on her blouse all around her hard protruding nipples. 

Once we were *both* inside, Maria looked me right in the eye, watching
my expressions, as she quickly unbuttoned her white frilly blouse, untied
it above the waist, then opened it wide, completely exposing her tan
youthful chest. 

Those tan engorged milk-machines bulged out of that much-too-small
white stretch bra. (I found out later that she couldn't afford any nursing
bras like I was wearing.) Its whiteness glowed brightly against her firm tan
body, while the dark brown circles of her puckered areola vividly showed
through that soaked, now almost-transparent fabric, like twin beacons
begging me to come home. I had to suppress a "gasp."

[End of Part 1a]
ever seen. They looked so . . . . . so ripe and round

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