hush-writes-preg

[hush-writes-preg]

just wanna cuddle til it slips in <3

[hush-writes-preg]

dry humping should be desperate and needy. it should feel like you're trying to knock me up through 4 layers of fabric.

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when the monster's cock is so big and so deep inside you, you can see it move through your belly.

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it's unfair that the top doesn't get pregnant too

[hush-writes-preg]

"How many are inside me?"

- The hottest thing a pregnant person can say

[hush-writes-preg]

It's so big.

You moan, rocking your hips in search of more sensation despite the swollen belly hanging heavily before you and impeding your movement. You're so horny, so desperate for a good, deep fuck that you practically threw yourself at me when I got home from work, but it's getting harder to handle your unwieldy form the larger you get.

You want to be bent over and pounded into next week, but the massive bulge of your abdomen constantly gets in the way.

You want to be manhandled, to be used, to feel your hole stretch tightly around a hard, thick cock, but the child in your womb forces us to be more careful with our usual rough play.

Yes, your belly is big as hell, but the sight of it only makes me want you more.

Don't worry-- you've only got a few weeks left before our baby comes. Then, once you're healed up, I'll make sure I fuck you hard enough to see stars.

[hush-writes-preg]

Anyone of any gender (or lack of one) deserves to get pregnant if they want to be and can.

[hush-writes-preg]

[Early Access] Waiting for Me

Theme(s): NSFW, gender-neutral reader and carrier, pregnant sex, clothed sex, fingering, penetration, needy kitchen sex, lactation

Length: 1,271 words

The front door clicks open, and you're already there, leaning against the wall between the kitchen and the entryway, waiting for me. The fabric of your oversized t-shirt barely manages to cover the dome of your massive belly. The shirt clings to your body, dipping down enough to offer you some modicum of modesty yet riding up just enough to tease.

My eyes lock onto you immediately, and you see it—the flicker of heat, the way my gaze drags down your body, pausing at the curve of your stomach before dipping lower.

Want to know how it ends? Check out the rest of this early access story on my Patreon!

Early Access stories are available in the Fetchingly Fertile ($6) and Delightfully Overdue ($10) tiers. More info on the available tiers and their rewards can be found here.

Tip Jar ✨ Patreon ✨ My Pregnancy Writing ✨ Commissions

[hush-writes-preg]

Eggs that are nearly 10 times bigger coming out then when they go in🙏

[hush-writes-preg]

tumblr shows u the hottest ppl alive with the same kinks as u, same politics as u, same interests as u, same taste in music as u, same sense of humour as u and they allllllll live on neptune or the mariana trench or somethin -.-

[hush-writes-preg]

nerdy seeders are great but what about nerdy carriers??

imagine coming home to your carrier laying in candlelight, snuggled up all cozy with blankets and them using their round tummy to prop their book up 🤭🤭

[hush-writes-preg]

The way the belly starts to round out from the bottom when a pregnancy bump starts to form. Just like perfectly round, can fit in the palm of your hand. Cupping your hand at the little bump that’s formed under the belly button. 🫠🫠🫠🫠

[hush-writes-preg]

WE👏 RESPECT 👏ALL 👏BODY👏 TYPES👏 ON 👏THIS 👏BLOG

[hush-writes-preg]

When no one jacks off to the thought of me for an entire day I can feel it btw and it hurts so so bad

[hush-writes-preg]

The train is packed, and your large, pregnant belly is trapped amongst countless other bodies in the crowd when you first feel the hand.

It's subtle at first, just barely brushing against your backside as if to test your reaction. You know you should feel outraged that someone would dare touch a stranger on the train, let alone a pregnant one, but their fingers are gentle, and you're honestly starved for contact. So you don't say anything. You keep your gaze fixed firmly ahead, silently waiting to see what they will do next.  

The stranger wastes no time in growing bolder, the hand sliding over the curve of your ass and rubbing it almost appreciatively. They shift from one cheek to the other, cautiously testing the shape of it before giving your bottom a careful squeeze.  

It's enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Who are they? You know you should be protesting, should be drawing away, should be calling them out for the impropriety, but it feels so good. As shameful as it is to admit it, you don't want them to stop.  

So you keep standing there, your arms wrapped protectively around your swollen abdomen, and continue letting them fondle you.

It takes everything you've got not to cry out when that hand dips between your legs, cupping you where you so desperately want to be touched. No one's touched you like this since the night you got knocked up, and your body craves pleasure like your lungs crave air. You can feel the flush creeping up your neck and face when their fingers start to move, following the line of your growing arousal before beginning to stroke you right through your trousers.  

You lose track of the crowd, of the stops, of the lurching motions of the train. All you can think about is the way those fingers are pleasuring you right here in the open while you have no idea who they belong to.  

You want to lean back into them and breathlessly beg them to keep going. You want to unbuckle your trousers and let them slide their hands beneath the fabric to touch you directly. You want to invite them back to your place to finish the job, to bend you over your bed and pound your greedy hole until you can't see straight to make up for all these sexless months. 

You want--

The train jerks to a stop at what can only be the main station. The hand between your legs tries to draw away as the crowd begins to disperse, but you instinctively squeeze your legs together to trap it in place. "My stop's next," you frantically whisper, hoping against hope that they can hear you over the din. "Follow me home? Please?"

There's no verbal response, but those glorious fingers begin moving again, and that's good enough for now. 

You can't help but let out a soft whimper, spreading your thighs just a little bit farther apart. This definitely isn't the best decision you've ever made, but right now, you don't know if you can be bothered enough to care.  

[hush-writes-preg]

how hot would it be to go to sleep perfectly fine and then wake up in the morning HEAVILY pregnant 😭

[hush-writes-preg]

I love pregnant knights. Of any gender, any kind. Their swollen belly straining against their armor. Over encumbered body and womb as they ride into battle, or stand idly by on guard. My own personal knight carrying whatever creature I desire in their womb. Begging to push as the tip of a dragon’s egg emerges between their legs. Not quite yet, my loyal servant.