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Annie’s Turn to Shine

Well, hello there! Welcome. My name is Annie. You may have read about my first pregnancy in my husband Jarred’s last pregnancy journal. He wrote three journals covering his three pregnancies, and inspired me to write this for my second pregnancy. I didn’t journal during my first, but came to regret that decision shortly after giving birth to my son, Chris. I want a record of this incredible experience in my own voice. That’s not to say Jarred didn’t cover our simultaneous pregnancies adequately, but it’s a lot different recording your thoughts rather than reading someone else’s account of your actions. I love Jarred’s journals, but I imagine I’ll treasure this one even more deeply.

Chris is 2 1/2 now, and I decided about 6 months ago that I wanted to get pregnant again. Jarred and I discussed the matter, and decided four kids are enough for us. There was always demand for pregnancy surrogates, though, and always room in our savings account for some extra cash. Getting paid to experience pregnancy again feels almost like stealing. Frankly, I’d pay for the privilege if I had to, and I’d be willing to pay a great deal. I felt as if I finally found myself as a fully-formed woman during my fantastic first pregnancy. Taking another swing towards self-actualization has had an almost magnetic pull for me.

If you didn’t read Jarred’s journals, you might be unaware of the work our fertility specialist Dr. Lucas and his associates do. First, I was unable to conceive for a year, and found out my uterus couldn’t carry a baby to term. Next, Dr. Lucas’ experimental clinic was giving Jarred a synthetic uterus, allowing him to carry our first two children, Isabelle and Sam. Their male impregnation technology has since been widely adopted, and many thousands of men carry children every year.

Dr. Lucas’ clinic didn’t stop with being able to impregnate men. They tackled female infertility next, which was apparently a tougher task. They accomplished it, though, and I was given the opportunity to experience a pregnancy firsthand. Jarred decided he wanted to have another pregnancy concurrent with mine, and we became pregnant with our boys, Chris and Max, on the same day as each other. I carried Chris, and Jarred carried Max.

Jarred still has his synthetic uterus in place, too, but he hasn’t decided yet if he’ll use it again. His three pregnancies definitely tired him out progressively more, and I doubt he’ll end up getting pregnant again. He’ll have to have another C-section-like surgery to remove the uterus at some point…but that’s really not our concern here at the moment.

I have a functional reproductive system and love being pregnant. So, I started searching for a family that needed a surrogate. I found the Wilsons, Dave and Marie, and they’re a lovely couple. She had to have a hysterectomy when she was in her 20s. Now both in their mid-30s, the Wilsons are very much ready for a baby. Luckily, they liked me as much as I liked them, and they trusted me enough to hire me to carry their baby. Their fertility clinic successfully extracted eggs from Marie, collected sperm from Dave, and made an embryo. They then implanted the embryo in my new and improved uterus, and, two weeks ago today, I had a positive pregnancy test.

I am elated. Through the vast majority of my first pregnancy I was a hormone-fueled sex maniac, and I’m hoping to get well and truly horny once again. I was also a very happy preggo, never letting the small things bring me down, delighted at every surprise my body threw at me. There are no physical changes to speak of thus far, but I’m even looking forward to the return of morning sickness in the next few weeks. Every aspect of this magical journey thrills me, including the parts most preggos seem to complain about most. For one example, I didn’t get any stretch marks during my first pregnancy, but I’m crossing my fingers I’ll get some this time. I want to experience every single thing that comes with bringing a new life into the world.

Actually, there has been one physical change already. My pussy has been constantly wet for a week and a half.

MY 2ND PREGNANCY, MONTH 1

I’m feeling slightly fatigued and very, very horny. Both are hormonal, but horny is winning the battle against fatigue handily. Without the increased libido Jarred had in common with me during my first/his third pregnancies, he’s already having trouble keeping up with me sexually. I’ve already fucked him twice today, and it’s hardly past noon. I’m not sure he was fully awake for the first one, but his cock sure was. I’ve also been rubbing my clit at every opportunity, cumming constantly but never satisfied. I love it all. Jarred’s raging pregnancy fetish will probably kick in when I start exhibiting more visible signs of pregnancy, and he’ll get a lot hornier and more able to keep up with my sex drive.

I should probably mention that I picked up the fetish myself rather intensely during my first pregnancy. I was never particularly interested in pregnancy, even through my husband’s first two terms. He turned himself on with his body, but rarely illegal bahis me. It was wonderful to see him experience everything, but not in a sexual way for me. When I first got pregnant, though, my body turned me on even more so than Jarred’s had turned him on. I enjoyed watching wild sex in person more than I enjoyed participating in it before I got pregnant with Chris.

Once pregnant, I was the most enthusiastic participant you could ever find. I thought my newly sexual interest in pregnancy would end after childbirth, but it persisted. As did much of the horniness. We’ve gone as a couple to pregnant escorts about a dozen times in the past few years, briefly sating our rabid appetites each time.

Being pregnant again now, I’m the sexual focal point for both myself and my husband. He’ll catch up soon, I think, and be as incapable to keep his hands off my body as I am. Though he couldn’t quite keep up with me when we were pregnant together, so he may have even less of a chance this time. His libido will increase, anyway, and, once I’m showing, he will be obsessed. A ball of putty in my hands.

I thought I might kick-start his libido last night by taking out our silicone bellies and reminding him of what I’ll look like very soon. I made our fake bellies by pouring silicone into the plaster body casts of Jarred’s pregnancy with Sam from around 8 months, and his pregnancy with Max at nearly 41 weeks. I didn’t do a body cast of my own bump during my first go round, but I’ll surely make at least a few this time. I’d like one of my shape halfway through gestation as well as the more common full-term cast. I like the variety.

I put the bellies on our bed and led Jarred to them to show rather than tell my idea. He was way into it; he’s been dressing up as a pregnant woman since well before we met, fancy professionally-made silicone bellies and all. I let him choose a belly first, though there was never a question about which he wanted: the massive 41 week model seems to hit him like Viagra. Even glancing at the crotch of his pants as he picks up the belly, I can tell his cock is already stiffening and pressing against his jeans. He takes the pants off, along with his underwear and top.

He does not care that I see he’s erect already, and I love that about him. His cock gets hard when it gets hard, and he owns the things that can provide stimulation to his sex drive. Most of his friends even know about his pregnancy fetish; I think he’s even proud of it, never ashamed. Besides Jarred and an ever-growing roster of preggo hook-ups, I haven’t told a soul about my new proclivity for pregnancy. I can’t even imagine whom I’d tell, or for what possible reason. Jarred has some real strength of character, and the courage of his convictions. I love him dearly.

Naked in the bedroom now, Jarred goes into my closet to pick a dress to wear. He settles on a bright red bodycon maxi. It’s going to be hot as fuck on him combined with that fake bump. He straps the belly on, pressing his tits into the top of it as he starts rubbing his cock gently.

He has a real thing for tits resting on a pregnant belly. One of his hyper-specific micro-fetishes, alongside having cum rubbed into his pregnant bump, and getting his bump and cock rubbed at the same time. I can approximate the latter easily enough, but I’m not going to rub cum into the silicone bellies I made myself. It didn’t gross me out in the least, but I want these bellies to last, and I have no clue as to the reaction of silicone to human sperm. Wait, they make many, many sex toys out of silicone, I’m just remembering. All right, I’ll rub his cum all over his fake bump next time we take out the bellies.

Jarred has the dress on over the bump, and the contrast between the huge round belly and his wiry frame nearly brings me to climax on the spot. I strap on the other belly and grab my favorite comfy dress, a soft but formfitting short white number. He loves this dress, too. It can’t cover all of my torso with the belly added to my figure, and it rides up just enough for Jarred to get a glimpse of my unkempt pubic hair. We’ve both gone commando, just as we both know where this game of dress-up is headed. We sit on the edge of the bed and start rubbing each other’s bumps and making out.

Jarred places one hand on my braless tits, and my increasingly sensitive nipples positively sing with pleasure. I push him onto his back, his bump obscuring the upper half of his body from my view. I hike his dress up, pull him a bit closer to the edge of the bed, and lean over to rest my belly on the bed while I blow him. He can’t see any of this, but I’m sure he feels my mouth around his cock and my tongue working its spiraling magic. He’s moaning a bit too much for my purposes after just a few minutes of oral.

I need to get that dick in me before he bursts. I don’t need to hike up my short dress; I just climb onto the bed and lower myself onto his cock facing away from. This is the only position we’ve found works consistently when we wear the bumps. My tight cunt takes him in all the way to the base of his cock, and I slowly illegal bahis siteleri raise myself up a few inches, then back down onto his cock, rhythmically and repeatedly. Or, to be more concise, I fuck him reverse cowgirl-style. I cum after a few dozen slides up and down his cock, and he follows directly as my pussy contracts in orgasm around him. It gets tight in there, and he can’t get enough.

I hope this might jump-start his libido in anticipation of my growing a real bump. Even if that doesn’t come to pass, though, we just fucked hard and fast, just the way I like it. I think if I keep talking about how excited I am for the impending physical changes he’ll start to get more anticipatory sexual energy, too. At least I have another strategy to try if our fucking doesn’t take. I simply need that cock more frequently, and he simply cannot say no to his pregnant wife.

MONTH 2

No, not writing this one, forget it. Fucking nausea. I’m going back to bed.

MONTH 3

My nausea and vomiting have subsided, and I’ve been feeling much better for a few weeks. The nausea got bad enough to completely halt my sexual activity for two whole days. I find this unacceptable, but, as with so much of pregnancy, these bodily functions and changes are out of my control. Thinking about this loss of control gets me hot…

Great. It’s too hard to type and rub one out at the same time. Please excuse the interruption. My sex drive is back, as you might’ve guessed. I surprised Jarred in the shower this morning, jumping in nude without warning. I kneeled to take his cock in my mouth and blew him to completion in mere seconds. I’m pretty sure I’d interrupted him jerking off, which explains the boner I found upon entering the shower and the tiny amount of effort that was required to get that jizz.

I stand up and spit the jizz onto my tits, rubbing it down my abdomen until I’m rubbing it into the brand new firmness just under my navel. He reaches out and rubs the cum into my pre-bump more thoroughly, then grabs me for a deep kiss. I love a man who’ll kiss you when you’ve still got some of his cum in your mouth. Almost as much as I love a man who’ll kiss you when you’ve got someone else’s cum in your mouth.

Feeling better on the nausea front and energized by my amazing newly firm uterus, I decided to use my excitement and a well-timed opportunity to go to my family’s cabin up in the mountains. I went alone, and packed no clothes but what I’d wear in the car on my way to and from. The cabin is secluded enough that I can confidently roam the property completely nude. Two nude days all by myself sounded amazing right now, though I’d miss Jarred’s cock. I make sure he throws it in me one more time before I leave.

It’s a two-hour drive, and all I could think about was how much I wanted these fucking clothes off my magical body. That and my uterine firmness, on which I kept a hand for 95% of the trip. I can’t keep my hands off it, and I never want to. I want to feel my bump start to protrude as I’m rubbing the firm area, my unmoving hand registering every 1,000,000th of an inch of growth. I pulled up to the cabin with two fingers in my cunt and my thumb flicking my clitoris.

I continued my activity to completion, put the car in park, exited the car, and tore off every article of clothing I was wearing. I went to the cabin with the intention of doing some uninterrupted meditation in a beautiful locale, and nude. The beauty is very much visible from just in front of the cabin: peaks, a lake, several wildflower-dotted meadows. It’s a gorgeous area, and my tits looked gorgeous in the sunlight. As did my pubic area. And my ass, I bet. I found myself on the ground quickly rubbing one out. It had been a long five minutes since I came in the car.

I dropped my supplies off in the cabin and headed out to my favorite meadow. I laid myself down on a large patch of bright green grass. I like meditating on my back, not the lotus position. I stayed in that spot for over an hour, staring at the blue sky and thinking about my body, the baby growing inside me, Mother Nature, and a host of other topics I’d rather not go into. Some things are a little too private to share, even for a person who talks about her cunt as casually as most people discuss their hair.

I felt connected to the world in a multitude of ways as I stood up, and was almost overwhelmed with the gratitude I felt for this pregnancy. It wasn’t my kid, but it was my magical journey. My mind filled with thoughts of my changing body once again, and I got a clear mental image of jerking Jarred’s cock until he explodes on my gigantic bump and proceeds to massage it into my skin.

My bump was fully coated in shiny white in my mind’s eye, and my cunt was coating my upper thighs in vaginal fluids in the real world. I laid down on my stomach, using the force of gravity to land partially on my mons pubis, producing a shock wave of pleasure in the clitoris’ interior nerve endings. I continued to grind my pubis into the ground, which was just firm enough to be a satisfying surface for my needs.

I reached down, canlı bahis siteleri thrust three fingers into my cunt, and moaned in pleasure. It took some change of position, but I eventually had my whole hand in there, and the pressure and weight of it had juices flowing freely down my wrist. I love fisting myself. I’ve never let anyone else put an entire hand inside me, but it’s a go-to for me in solo play. I used my other hand to rub my clit to one more climax before I removed my cunt hand, inhaling the musky odor coming off my fingers as soon as they were out of me.

That’s more or less how the weekend went. I got there Friday evening, and successfully remained nude until Sunday afternoon. I’d spent most of my time either masturbating or meditating, and the rest swimming a bit, eating, and sleeping. I’ve tried to mix masturbation and meditation together on a number of occasions, but I’ve never climaxed from it. It’s a real shame. There’s some serious time-saving potential being squandered.

MONTH 4

My ass seems to have grown overnight. It’s fuller and firmer and barely fits into my loosest jeans. My hips, too, have a sexy new curve to them. I’m hot as fuck. I might also be showing the slightest bit, but I’ve gotten so in my head about it that I can’t trust my eyes anymore. There’ll be a cute little bump there for the rubbing within the next few weeks, I’m sure.

I’m disappointed to report that Jarred’s libido still hasn’t risen to an acceptable level for me, even with these smoking new curves. I think he may be jealous of my being pregnant while he’s not. I went through that twice from his end, and as a woman who’d always expected to get pregnant one day to boot. So, I understand and empathize with his reaction. I’m not worried, as I know how powerless he is when confronted with even the most modest pregnant bump. His cock will be mine for the taking again as soon as I’m showing.

He knows he’s not meeting my sexual needs, and he permits me an even longer marital leash than I’d permitted him when he was solo pregnant. He just asked me to use protection for anything penetrative. I didn’t have to tell him what I did, bring him with me, or abstain from any particular acts. Thinking about this gets me wet as hell, and I head for our local college campus to hunt for horny undergrads. I’m going before I’m showing because these young folks tend to be weirded out by a visibly pregnant person, unless you get lucky and run into a fetishist.

The boldest of the fetishists will ask if you’re single while you’re holding your husband’s hand. They really, really want to fuck a pregnant person, and some will risk bodily harm to throw their hat in the ring. I love these guys and gals. I wish they’d say “fuck it” to the stigma and be public about their proclivities. Start a club! Horny pregnant men and women will show up, pretty much guaranteed at least one fuck from an admirer. We need that sometimes, and you belly fuckers should step up.

My jeans are tight as hell, my shirt is so low cut you can almost see my nipples and tight enough that you could probably make them out through the fabric if you tried. I’m not wearing a bra or panties, because they conflict with my goals. I want to be ready to have my nipples squeezed and pussy pounded at a moment’s notice. I walk around looking for any young men hanging out alone, without a clearly visible purpose. No readers, no phone-talkers, no fast-walkers. I need someone doing nothing so I can convince them to do me. I sit down next to one handsome young blonde gentleman, and he gets up immediately and walks off. Probably a coincidence, but it still stings.

I get up and walk some more, eventually spotting a guy well over six feet tall, and not as frail looking as some young men with such height tend to be. His cock must be huge and I want it in me. He’s sitting under a tree, and I march right over and sit down six inches from him. I start chatting him up. His name’s Dave. He lives on campus, just a quarter-mile or so from here. I jump on this second piece of information from the awkward young man, and ask if we can go to his dorm room. He says his roommate may be there, but we can try.

I’m such a fucking cradle robber! I only feel ashamed for a moment, then I move on to imagining Dave’s giant cock entering me from behind. I have a thought and ask him my most direct question yet: “Do you have a condom?” I really should’ve brought one, men are so fucking unreliable about this. “Yeah, in my room I’ve got plenty,” Dave says, shocking me with both his preparedness and his confidence in suggesting we may need more than one condom.

His room is gross but unoccupied, so I can deal. I drop my jeans, rip off my shirt, and sit my bare ass down on his bed. He quickly and clumsily disrobes himself, visibly trying to come to terms with his good fortune. He sits next to me and i immediately lean over to take him in my mouth. His cock tastes great to me, and I really go to town…bringing him to climax in under a minute. I spit his cum into his wastepaper basket and ask when he’ll be able to go again. “…Half an hour?” he seems to guess. “It was nice blowing you,” I say, accidentally making a truly awful pun. I doubt he notices. I stand and re-clothe, then kiss him on the cheek before I open the door and walk my unsatisfied ass right out of the dormitory.

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