The Man of the House 2 (Patreon)

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Derek waddled the last few steps toward the front door of his house after a long day at work, feeling like every inch of his body weighed twice what it should. His shoes scuffed against the concrete path as he moved, one slow step after another, with his legs spread wide to make room for the immense bulk he carried at the front. He was breathless even though he’d only made it from the car, which still felt way too long.

He was four days overdue, and he felt it in every fiber of his body. He wasn’t only big but also packed tight from the inside out, pressurized as if his body was too swollen, reaching its limit and testing every seam of his own anatomy. His chest heaved as sweat poured from his skin everywhere—his temples, the back of his neck, the deep cleavage, the valley beneath each tit, his crotch, and even his ass. It felt as if his body was melting after only a few steps.

His belly pushed obscenely out in front, round and rock-hard, trapped beneath a shirt that had long since stopped pretending to fit. Every movement inside was impossible to miss as ripples rolled from one side to the other, and sudden bulges rose and faded as the six heavy babies shifted together. Each motion made him gasp and forced a low groan from his throat. He rolled his shoulders uselessly, trying to shake off the fire screaming through his lower back as his overpacked belly pulled him downward and forward at the same time.

His tits bounced with each step, overfilled with milk, and straining against his shirt in ways no man’s chest should. His nipples were visible beneath the fabric, rigid, swollen, and aching, rubbing painfully with every movement. Each brush sent sharp shivers through him, making him grit his teeth and breathe through it. Milk had been threatening him all day, seeping during meetings and soaking his undershirt by the time he’d finally clocked out, forcing him to remove it before driving home. And even now, he could feel the milk pressing insistently from within, making him feel as if his skin might throb apart if he didn’t get relief soon.

His size forced him to spread his hips. His joints were sore and burning down to the bone, and his thick thighs rubbed together with every step. His belly pressed down and forward so much that his bulge—cock and heavy balls—felt crowded and pinned, with no room to settle comfortably beneath the immense weight above. Even his ass ached constantly, working overtime and straining the fabric of his pants as it swayed and jiggled with each step. The seams of his pants bit into his skin and pulled tight over his hips, ass, and thighs like a second skin that felt seconds away from giving up entirely.

Still, he straightened his shoulders as best he could and lifted his chin. “Oof… Just get inside, Derek. You’ve got this,” he said, breathless. “At least it’s Friday.”

That thought alone was enough to make him let out a breath that was almost a laugh. Two days without work meant two days where he didn’t have to wedge himself behind a desk, didn’t have to pretend everything was fine while his belly pressed into the edge of the table and his back screamed every time he shifted. But it also meant two days for him to finally pop, so he didn’t have to do all that on Monday—it was his biggest wish now.

He reached the door and stopped, planting his feet wide and bracing one hand firmly against the small of his back. The pressure forced him to arch forward, jutting his belly out even more as the movement stole his breath for the millionth time. His other hand came up automatically, rubbing along the sides of the mound as the babies rolled and kicked.

“Easy, easy,” he whispered, looking down at his belly—at the babies. His belly jumped under his hand, pulling his skin so tight it looked glossy even through the stretched fabric. He smiled despite himself, breathlessly, tired, and overwhelmed. “Kiddos, I really need you to come out soon.” He chuckled, rubbing circles along his sides. “I don’t think I can do Monday like this. Not sure if you noticed, but we barely fit behind the wheel anymore.”

Another kick answered him, and he laughed softly. “Yeah! You’re taking up too much space for me to drive safely. If you get any bigger, I’m gonna need a ride. And that’d be putting on too much of a show, okay?”

He was still smiling when his belly suddenly tightened under his hand. At first, it almost felt familiar, only a deep sensation he’d been dealing with for days now—Braxton Hicks that he’d learned to breathe through and ignore. But instead of easing or fading like the others, this one didn’t stop; it increased.

The tightening drew inward, gripping him from the inside with a force that made his breath seize in his chest. It was nothing like the off-and-on discomfort he’d been managing all day at work. His smile vanished as the sensation rolled through him, squeezing so hard it felt like his entire middle was slowly twisting out. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and slapped his free hand against the wall for balance as he bent forward instinctively. His knees weakened and buckled before he realized it as the painfully consuming pressure bore down.

“Ugh! Fuck!” He paused, panting. “No, no. No bad words. I’ve got this.”

Inside, the babies reacted all at once, stretching in all directions. Kicks landed low and hard, pulling the skin to its absolute limit as the pressure became so intense that it felt like his belly might split under the strain. His body trembled as he fought to stay upright, forcing himself to breathe slowly, but it took everything he had to hold on as the pressure peaked before it slowly loosened its grip.

When the contraction finally released him, he sagged against the wall, panting heavily as sweat trickled down his spine. “Wow! That was… that was a big one.” He swallowed and smiled, relieved and eager to finally pop. “We’re on the right path, I guess.”

His legs were shaking, and his feet screamed from the strain, so he straightened as best he could, put on his confident smile, and opened the door, eager to sit down. He quickly walked in and kicked his shoes off without bothering to bend, groaning openly as his swollen feet came free. At this point, even that tiny relief felt like a huge victory.

“Dad!” Tyler and Ben came running down the hallway with their arms outstretched.

Derek barely had time to brace before they collided gently but firmly with his sides, wrapping their arms around his massive middle. The impact made him wince and groan, and his hands came down instinctively to steady his belly for a second. “Oof—hey, hey,” he laughed through it, hugging them back carefully. “Easy, big guys.”

“Sorry, Dad. We’re happy you’re home,” Ben said, looking at Derek’s belly in pure awe.

Tyler nodded, stepping back only enough to take in the whole expanse of his dad’s pregnant middle. “Were the babies moving a lot today?”

Derek snorted softly and patted the side of his belly. “All day. I think they’ll love football like their older brothers. But before we talk about them, how was school?”

“It was fine,” Ben said quickly, then brightened again. “Did you eat enough today? Mom says you gotta eat a lot so they stay strong.”

Derek laughed and rubbed his belly again when a kick nudged back against his hand. “I ate lunch and went for seconds,” he said proudly, “and about six snacks. I’m pretty sure they’re doing fine. Big, heavy, and very motivated.”

Tyler grinned. “That’s good. They kick a lot when you eat.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, smiling down at them. “But I don’t enjoy it that much because they’re getting super strong like their older brothers.” He ruffled their hair and winked at them.

The boys laughed, still watching their dad’s middle like it might do something else. But Derek shifted his weight as a sharp pain flared through his back and hips, making him hiss before he could stop it. Still, he kept his smile in place, determined not to let it show.

“You should sit,” Tyler said immediately. “Mom said you should rest when you get home. She’s cooking dinner, and we’re helping her.”

“I can help with dinner, too,” Derek insisted automatically, but his body answered him with a hard protest as his belly trembled.  He groaned, dropping his shoulders in defeat, and nodded. “Okay. I guess the couch sounds like a better idea for me.”

The boys nodded and flanked him like bodyguards as he waddled into the living room, where Marissa was waiting. Derek couldn’t help but smile as soon as he saw his wife, and she leaned up and kissed him, rubbing his belly so lovingly that it made him sigh.

“How’re you holding up, big guy?” she asked.

“On the verge of bursting,” Derek said honestly.

“At least it’s Friday. The big man of the house deserves some rest,” she said, smiling.

He chuckled. “Not sure relaxation is an option for me anymore.”

“Maybe today’s the day, and you’ll get some rest after these babies come out. Sort of,” she added, patting his middle and chuckling. “Anyways, sit down and relax. Dinner is almost ready.” She kissed his cheek again, gave his chest a soft pat, and went back to the kitchen.

Derek smiled at that, then turned and attempted to lower himself onto the couch carefully. He slowly bent his knees as if he were easing down under a crushing load, and his legs trembled almost immediately. His hips shook and his lower back burned as the weight of his belly dragged him forward, pulling his balance off-center. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, reaching instinctively for the armrest that suddenly felt too far away.

He didn’t make it all the way. A blinding pressure hit him without warning, gripping him from the inside and stealing the air straight out of his lungs. His knees buckled completely, and his body folded and dropped heavily onto the couch. A sharp, broken groan tore out of him as he collapsed back against the cushions, instinctively moving both hands to his belly, and clutching it tight as the force crushed down through his middle.

His belly went rigid under his hands, so tight it felt like his skin might give. Inside, the babies reacted with a storm of kicking and stretching in all directions at once—violent enough to distort the shape of his middle. Derek clenched his jaw hard as he fought to keep a groan and a scream inside his chest.

“Dad?” Tyler said, quickly getting beside his dad, worried. “Are you okay?

Ben did the same as if trying to prevent his dad from falling. ”Should we get Mom?”

Derek forced his eyes open as he drew in a shaky breath through his nose. He smiled for his sons, weakly, even as his body trembled, refusing to let the fear show. “I’m—I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s okay. Your brothers are just eager to meet you.”

As the pressure finally eased, he dragged in a deep, broken breath as his chest heaved and the strain across his shirt reached its breaking point. With a sharp, sudden snap, three buttons gave up all at once across the front of his belly, popping free in quick succession and skittering across the floor as the fabric sprang open and exposed his taut skin.

Derek’s belly pushed forward, gleaming with sweat, stretched so tight it looked polished, flushed, and trembling as the babies kept moving. Derek gasped at the sudden release, and a shaky sound slipped out of him, between relief and disbelief. Tyler and Ben froze for a second, staring wide-eyed at the enormous, taut curve of their dad’s exposed middle. Then they burst into giggles, breaking the tension as Derek let out a weak, breathless laugh of his own.

 “It finally happened,” he breathed, staring down at himself. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Right then, Marissa called from the kitchen. “Tyler, Ben, let your dad rest.”

The boys looked at Derek, who nodded and winked at them. “Go ahead. Help your mom and don’t mention any of this, okay?” he said, and the boys obeyed reluctantly.

Alone, Derek shook his head and, one by one, undid the rest of the buttons. He took his time with it, clumsily moving his fingers as the fabric slowly fell away, revealing more and more of him until the shirt finally hung open and useless at his sides. His entire torso was exposed now, round, swollen, and unbelievably taut.

He leaned back into the couch as the pressure eased, but his body hadn’t fully let go of it. His belly remained tight, and the babies inside shifted again. It wasn’t painful—yet—but it kept him alert, aware that his body wasn’t waiting anymore; it was moving, shifting, preparing for what was to come—the moment he had waited for so long.

...

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