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A couple of hours later, Hudson felt even fuller and more ready to burst than before. Trying to induce labor by having sex with Marcus came with its risks and rewards. The pros were obviously the possibility of finally making Hudson pop and the immense pleasure that came with it. However, every time they tried, Marcus ended up cumming buckets deep into Hudson, bloating him up further and only making the discomfort and overwhelm all the worse.

“I don’t think it was a good idea,” Hudson said, breathlessly, rubbing the sides of his immense middle. “You only made the pressure worse.”

Marcus grinned and leaned in to kiss the hairy, pregnant belly. “Oh, come on. You won’t tell me you didn’t like it,” he said, softly brushing his face against the taut skin. “If you’d let me, I’d try to induce labor over and over. Every single second of the day.”

Hudson groaned at the sensation but could feel his cock stirring between his thighs, almost as if agreeing with Marcus’s teasing. Even in his current state, he couldn’t deny his need to feel Marcus’s monster cock stretching him endlessly, no matter if each time he ended up blowing up like a cum balloon.

Marcus brushed a teasing kiss to Hudson’s lips when footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Hudson’s ex-wife, Dana, appeared at the door a few seconds later. She had some shopping bags in her hands and her usual smirk—permanent whenever she saw her ex’s shape. “Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I could come back later.”

Hudson blushed, and looking at Marcus, both smiled. “No, no. You’re not interrupting. And even if you were, it would be good. Believe me.”

Dana laughed and widened her eyes in surprise. “Okay. It won’t take long anyway. Just checking in as always to see if those babies finally decide to come out. And—” she said, approaching the bed gracefully. “I come bearing gifts to help with your situation,” she added, holding up the bags in her hands and gesturing at Hudson’s tits.

Marcus grinned, already feeling what was coming. “Oh, this will be good.”

Dana looked into one of the bags and took out a massive supportive garment. “I had some trouble finding a size that would fit you. But I think this one will work.”

Hudson’s eyes widened, and his face turned red. “You bought me a bra?”

Dana laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s a support harness,” she corrected quickly.

“Dana!” Hudson said more firmly, feeling almost betrayed.

“Fine,” she admitted. “It’s a bra. A man-bra. A bro-bra. Whatever helps you sleep. You won’t tell me the idea hasn’t crossed your mind. Believe me, it’ll help.”

Marcus nearly doubled over with laughter, and Hudson shot him a glare before sighing.

“Coming from someone who’s dealt with having breasts for years—though not nearly as huge as yours—I promise you’ll feel a lot better,” Dana added, more gently now.

Hudson took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Let me try it on.”

He grabbed the bra and struggled to put it on. The size of his tits and belly made it nearly impossible. His chest was so vast and heavy that lifting his arms to reach the straps left him breathless. The fabric snagged on the curls of his chest hair, dragging painfully until Dana stepped in with a chuckle.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake—let me,” she said, trying not to laugh.

It became an awkward, almost comical dance: Dana guiding the thick straps around him, Hudson huffing and groaning with every movement.

“You know,” he whispered between breaths, “earlier today they hooked me up to a milking machine. Now you’re putting me in a bra. I’m completely helpless in your hands.”

“Helpless but handsome.” She smirked and winked at her ex, tightening the band beneath his tits. “Marcus, would you please lift his right boob?”

Marcus obeyed immediately, and Hudson tightened his jaw at the motion. Dana worked slowly, pulling the garment around the breadth of his torso until it finally clasped into place with a decisive click. The support was immediate—but so was the humiliation. Hudson’s cheeks burned, and he gasped as the pressure redistributed.

“It’s humiliating,” he mumbled, though his voice softened when the ache in his shoulders eased. “But it feels better.”

Dana smiled kindly. “Told you.”

Hudson leaned back against the pillows, sighing in deep relief. “Fine. You win. But if Marcus calls this a bra, I’m throwing it at him. And none of you are ever telling anyone about this, got it? Especially to Harvey and Harry. I’ve traumatized them enough.”

Marcus was grinning from ear to ear. “You look incredible,” he said warmly.

“Not a word,” Hudson said, pointing weakly at him before turning to Dana. “Understood?”

Dana raised both hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay,” she said sweetly—then, without missing a beat, she pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a picture.

“Dana!” Hudson shouted, though his cheeks turned pink.

She grinned. “Relax. It’s for my personal archive. Someday I’m going to need proof of this. I promise no one will ever have access to this photo.”

Marcus laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, and even Hudson couldn’t hold back a begrudging chuckle. He exhaled, finally surrendering. His head fell back, and he let out a slow, contented sigh. Despite feeling humiliated, he couldn’t help but appreciate how Dana still cared so much about him. The bra was actually a great idea—but he wouldn’t admit it aloud.

By mid‑afternoon, Dana had left, and the room was quiet again.

Marcus leaned back against the headboard, only wearing a pair of briefs. He spread his legs wide to give space for Hudson’s massive form to settle between them. Hudson reclined against Marcus’s chest, also only wearing briefs. Marcus’s broad thighs cradled Hudson’s hips, and his huge bulge pressed firmly into Hudson’s massive ass. Their bodies molded close, breathing in sync, loving each other’s warmth.

Hudson’s belly stretched forward before them, gleaming under the sunlight. Marcus’s hands moved over it, caressing the sides, tracing the faint veins and the twitching of life beneath. Occasionally, his hands drifted upward to Hudson’s immense tits, unstrapping the supportive bra with careful fingers.

The straps slid free one by one, releasing the tits beneath. The fabric loosened, and Marcus’s hands moved over the freed mounds, kneading with gentle pressure. His thumbs pressed just enough to ease the ache that had built all day, but somehow also felt like triggering new sensations. Hudson gasped, closing his eyes as if trying to survive the moment. A throaty sound escaped his lips as his entire body arched faintly against Marcus’s front.

“Oh, fuck. Marcus—” he whispered, barely audible as he melted into the touch. “That feels… too good.”

Marcus’s lips brushed the back of his neck, making Hudson shiver. “Then just breathe. Let me help you relax. And if you need, we could have another round.”

Hudson grinned, and his head lolled back against Marcus’s shoulder. Every muscle loosened as he melted into his partner’s body. Marcus’s strong hands continued their slow rhythm, massaging gently until Hudson’s tits quivered under his hands, and steady streams of milk leaked from his nipples, threading down through the dark curls on his tits. The milk should’ve been an issue, but right now, both were too comfortable to mind it.

Moments later, the bedroom door opened again, and the sound of laughter and shuffling footsteps interrupted their closeness. Harry and Harvey bounded into the room still in their school clothes. Their chatter stopped the moment they saw Marcus and Hudson on the bed, holding each other so tightly.

Hudson cleared his throat and straightened slightly—as much as his body allowed. “Hey, boys. How was school?”

Both boys slowed, grinning wide as they clambered onto the mattress, finding space at the edge of Hudson’s enormous belly.

“It was okay. Boring as always,” Harry said, casually.

“Whoa,” Harvey whispered. “You’re even bigger than this morning.”

Hudson blushed and chuckled, aware of the reason why he looked rounder. “That’s because you two kept feeding me all that pasta last night and made the babies grow so much,” he said, redirecting their attention from the truth.

Harry giggled and reached out, placing both palms on his dad’s middle. “It’s like a mountain,” he said, rubbing the skin as if expecting to feel movement right away.

Harvey joined in, pressing lightly with fascination until a slow, rolling motion answered from within. “They’re saying hi!” he cried, laughing as the surface trembled beneath his hands.

Hudson groaned but smiled. “Yeah, they’re awake. They like the sound of your voices. But it hurts a bit when they start rolling like this.”

The boys exchanged a quick look—somewhere between wonder and mischief. “You’re huge, Dad,” Harry said, unable to stop giggling. “You look like you swallowed a planet.”

Hudson groaned playfully. “Feels like it too.”

Harvey leaned close, whispering as though sharing a secret with the belly itself. “I can’t wait till all our new brothers are out. We’re gonna have so many!” His enthusiasm made Hudson laugh outright, and the sound rumbled through the mound.

Then Harry’s eyes saw something shiny on the nightstand—the milking machine—and his brows shot up. “Hey, what’s that thing?”

Before Hudson could answer, Harvey pointed at the bra resting beside Marcus on the bed. “And what’s that? It looks like—”

Hudson’s cheeks went bright red. “That’s, uh, nothing you need to worry about.”

Both boys burst into giggles. “Dad’s got a bra and a milking machine!” Harry crowed. “You’re officially a dairy cow!”

Hudson groaned, covering his face with both hands, though his shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s my fault for not hiding them from the two of you!”

Marcus snorted, failing to hide his grin. “Even if you hid the bra and the milking machine, you’d still be a dairy cow,” he said, leaning in to kiss Hudson’s cheek. “The best-looking and most productive of the herd.”

“Don’t you start,” Hudson said, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

Marcus and the boys laughed, and in the middle of it, Hudson’s belly gave a deep, rumbling growl that made the whole dome tremble.

Marcus moved his hand over Hudson’s taut side, feeling the rolling within. “Seems like the babies are hungry.”

“Same here,” Harvey said eagerly. “Can we eat now?”

Marcus smiled. “I’ll get dinner going. Just give me a minute with your dad, okay?”

The boys nodded obediently and leaned in to quickly kiss Hudson’s belly, whispering playful goodbyes to their unborn siblings before sliding off the bed and running out, still giggling.

The moment they left, Marcus’s hands returned to Hudson’s belly, smoothing over the sides in loving strokes. He leaned in and kissed Hudson’s cheek before slowly helping him shift to his side. It was a careful process—Hudson groaned through it all as Marcus guided him, bracing the massive gut and easing it down until it rested safely against the mattress.

Hudson exhaled hard, blinking up at Marcus with gratitude.

Marcus brushed a damp curl from Hudson’s forehead, kissed him once more, and whispered, “Rest now. I’ll be right back.” Then he rose quietly, leaving Hudson to breathe in the fading warmth of the afternoon.

Hudson stayed alone while Marcus and the boys cooked dinner for everybody. During all that time, he smiled whenever the babies moved softly. But then there were sharp kicks against his lungs or against the walls of his womb that made him groan. The babies always got restless when they were hungry, and it was almost every single second of the day.

Then, by sunset, Harry and Harvey were in the kitchen doing the dishes, and Marcus helped Hudson back to bed after dinner. Even though it took a lot of effort, Hudson insisted on sitting at the table as he always did and having family time at dinner.

Now that he was in bed, Hudson breathed heavily. Dinner had left him filled beyond comfort; he could still taste the food and feel the heaviness pressing high under his ribs. His belly looked ready to burst—tight, glistening—each breath reduced to a shallow pant as the weight inside crowded his lungs. The pressure was immense—his hips throbbed, his back burned, and his tits felt swollen to the point of bursting.

Every nerve screamed that he had reached his limit.

Hudson groaned. “Marcus, I’m so full I can’t breathe,” he said with a trembling voice. His hands shook as they slid across his middle, as if afraid to touch too firmly, terrified he might split apart. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Marcus sat close beside him, half‑leaning over Hudson’s. His hands moved across the taut surface, rubbing the hairy belly. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “Just breathe for me. You’re beautiful.” His lips followed the path of his hands, softly kissing the straining skin.

When Marcus’s hands moved to Hudson’s tits, the touch changed. His fingers sank into the flesh, kneading the fullness and feeling the slick heat of sweat trapped among the curls. His thumbs brushed over the swollen nipples, teasing until Hudson gasped, and his whole body trembled under the contact.

Marcus teased the nipples between his fingers, then leaned down, closing his mouth around one. His tongue swirled over the tender flesh, catching on the coarse hairs and slick skin, and then he began to suckle until a sweet flow of milk touched his tongue. He groaned low in appreciation, tugging gently with his teeth before releasing it again.

Hudson’s reaction was raw. A broken moan echoed in the room as his back arched. “Marcus—ugh—careful,” he breathed out. “I’ll break.”

Marcus lifted his head, smiling and licking some milk off his lips. “You won’t. You’re strong, Hudson. Strong and stunning.”

Hudson’s fingers found Marcus’s hair, clenching weakly as another moan escaped him. Every touch felt magnified. His belly shifted beneath the strain, as though reacting to the heat building in him. He felt like he was made of glass, stretched thin and glowing from within, ready to shatter from too much feeling.

Marcus leaned to kiss Hudson’s mouth hungrily and desperately. Their tongues tangled as the heat between them intensified. Hudson was trembling, his body drawn so tight it felt ready to explode, but the more Marcus touched him, the more he needed.

“Marcus,” Hudson panted against his lips, “I need you. So badly.”

Marcus pulled back only enough to look into his eyes. “You sure?” he whispered. “You know it’s very likely I’ll only get you even fuller.”

Hudson nodded frantically. “Please. I need you to fuck me.”

Marcus kissed him again, then shifted, guiding himself between Hudson’s thick thighs. He spread them carefully, and the motion made Hudson groan loudly as his legs were lifted and set over Marcus’s shoulders. The weight of his immense belly and chest pushed higher, compressing his lungs until every breath came sharply and shallowly.

“Marcus—please—” Hudson begged again.

Marcus pushed forward slowly. The thick length of his cock slid in inch by inch, stretching Hudson until he gasped and moaned, digging his fingers into the sheets. Marcus’s cock sank deeper, and Hudson let out a cry that made everything tremble. When Marcus was fully buried inside, Hudson panted heavily.

“You ready?” Marcus whispered.

Hudson nodded helplessly. “Make me pop.”

Marcus began to move—slow at first until Hudson was groaning. The bed rocked beneath them, and the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed as Marcus’s pace quickened. Hudson’s tits bounced with every motion, and his hands reached for the sheets, the headboard, or anything to anchor himself as his moans rose louder.

“More,” Hudson gasped, desperate and greedy. “Harder—please, Marcus, more!”

Marcus obeyed. His hips snapped forward, and their bodies slapped together in rhythm. The whole bed shuddered beneath their weight, and every movement sent tremors through Hudson’s overfilled form. The heavily pregnant man felt like he might tear apart as pleasure and strain tangled beyond sense.

“I’m not gonna last,” Marcus groaned through clenched teeth.

Hudson’s eyes rolled in his head, and his voice broke into helpless cries. “Then—do it inside—fill me—again—please—”

Marcus’s body tensed; he tilted his head back with a shuddering gasp, and a guttural, primal growl tore from deep in his chest as he pushed into Hudson with full force. The climax hit him like a storm. His whole frame jerked as he shot inside, pumping wave after wave of hot seed into Hudson’s trembling body. The sound in the room was a mix of wet heat, breathless gasps, and the almost thunderous pulse of Marcus’s heartbeat.

Hudson’s cry split the air. The rush of cum entering him built fast, a flood so strong it stole his breath. He could feel every surge of Marcus’s load pressing deeper, spreading through him until his belly began to swell under the strain. The hairy dome lifted slowly, visibly, filling up from within. His navel strained outward, trembling, nearly flattened under the new pressure, and the rim glistened with sweat as if it might split.

His skin stretched tighter still, pale and gleaming under the light; every hair flattened against the glossy surface. The faint creak of his skin was audible over their gasps. The babies inside stirred and rolled, agitated by the sudden heat and pressure. Their movements sent ripples across the overfilled surface.

Hudson sobbed aloud, gripping at Marcus’s arms. “Marcus—oh fuck—so much—” he gasped, barely conscious.

The flood kept coming, and his belly rounded more with every wave, until it rose another inch. His skin was drum-tight and quivering, and the sound of stretching continued like a soft, aching groan of flesh reaching its absolute limit.

When the last spasm left Marcus trembling above him, both men were shaking and breathless. Hudson’s chest heaved; his belly was high and immense, glistening and strained to perfection. He could feel the cum churning inside him as his hands traced the new shape, feeling the slight give of fullness.

Hudson could barely speak. He managed a breathless laugh. “You always find ways to make me feel fuller. And I can’t seem to find a way to say no.”

Marcus smirked, leaning down to kiss the immense belly. “There’s more where that came from, if you want it. Until you pop, right?”

Hudson groaned, feeling Marcus’s cock still hard inside him. “Fuck… yes… more…”

Marcus grinned against his skin, braced his hands, and began to move again. The rhythm started anew as the room filled once more with horny sounds and heat, and Hudson held onto Marcus, lost in it entirely.

They couldn’t get enough, going round after round, and each time leaving Hudson’s belly even bigger, even rounder, even closer to bursting. But for the pregnant man, it only made him desire Marcus even more.

Sometime after midnight, they were both asleep. Hudson was on his side with one hand resting protectively on his massive belly. Marcus lay pressed close behind him, his body molded perfectly to Hudson’s back, his arm draped low around the curve of his waist, and his cock still buried deep inside him. The room was calm until Hudson suddenly stirred with a deep groan.

The contraction seized him without warning, tightening everything from his spine to his belly. His hand gripped his middle, and he gasped. “Ugh. Fuck. Fuck.” He whispered.

Marcus woke instantly. “Hey. What is it?” he asked, still half asleep.

Hudson panted, trembling. “I think that was a contraction. A real one.”

They stayed in that same position for a while. Each time the contraction came, Hudson’s belly clenched tight under his hand, and the skin rippled faintly with movement inside. Marcus pressed his hand over Hudson’s, feeling the powerful tightening, telling him to breathe, and keeping track of the timing.

“Fifteen minutes apart,” Marcus said. “You’re doing great.”

The hour stretched long. They didn’t move, breathing together through the contractions, and Marcus could feel Hudson’s hole squirming around his cock each time. Marcus’s hand never left Hudson’s belly, rubbing in slow circles while his other arm held him close. The tension would rise, the immense mound going hard beneath their hands as his muscles seized. Then it would pass, and he would melt again against Marcus’s chest.

Finally, the contractions weakened. The rhythm faltered until at last there was only silence. Marcus kissed the back of Hudson’s head gently. “False alarm, I guess?”

Hudson let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath. “Figures.” His hand slid over his belly, feeling the shifting within. “I guess they’re staying put a little longer. I can’t believe it.”

Marcus squeezed him tighter, nuzzling into his neck. “I can. But I think you’re close.”

They stayed that way—Hudson’s hand resting protectively over his belly, Marcus’s hand covering his, both of them watching the faint rolls beneath the taut skin. Hudson’s body relaxed, and his eyes closed. He could still feel Marcus inside him as he drifted toward sleep again, aware that his little ones would remain nestled within him just a bit longer.

By morning, it was clear that something big was coming. All through the night, Hudson had weathered one contraction after another, each one strong enough to make him grip the sheets—but somehow he had borne them, breathing through the waves until they eased and he slipped back into restless dreams. But as the first real light broke through the curtains, a harder contraction struck—a wrenching squeeze that tore a cry from his throat.

Marcus jolted awake. “Oh fuck. What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice cracked with fear as he reached instinctively for Hudson.

Hudson’s face was pale, with his hand clamped over his vast belly. “It’s different this time,” he gasped. “I—I think I’m finally in labor.”

For a heartbeat, Marcus froze—not because of the birth itself, but because the reality hit him all at once: ten newborns. Ten babies to hold, feed, and soothe. Ten cries in the night, ten tiny hands reaching for him. His chest tightened, and panic bubbled at the edge of his thoughts.

Hudson saw it in his face even before Marcus spoke. He reached for his hand, lowering his voice despite the pain. “You’ve done enough, Marcus. You were never obligated to stay if it feels like too much. I’ll handle it. I promise.”

The words snapped Marcus out of his daze. He stared down at Hudson—at the massive, trembling belly—and something fierce broke open inside him. “What? No! Don’t you ever say that again.” He leaned forward and kissed him—long, deep, and desperate. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here no matter what happens, no matter how hard it gets. I love you. I love you, Hudson. I can’t imagine a day without you—without them.”

Hudson moaned softly against Marcus’s lips as tears mixed with sweat and their mouths met again and again. Then a powerful contraction hit him full-force, making him break from the kiss with a strangled cry as his belly clenched under both their hands.

Marcus held him close as a trembling smile broke through. “I can’t believe it’s time,” he whispered. “It’s finally time to meet them.”

Then it happened—a pressure so immense that Hudson could barely breathe. In a sudden release, his water broke—a tidal gush that soaked the sheets and spilled over Marcus’s thighs. The relief made Hudson sob and shake, and the pressure momentarily eased as the belly visibly dropped lower.

“I’ve waited for this moment for so long and forgot how painful it would be,” Hudson said, feeling something huge pressing down on his hips—the babies—making him realize that the hardest part was coming. “Next time I hope our babies won’t get so big inside me before they decide to come out,” he said between ragged breaths.

“Next time?” Marcus asked, playfully.

“We both know there’ll be a next time,” Hudson added, groaning again. “I just hope it’s not ten, and I won’t go 31 days overdue.”

“Well… I hope it’s more than ten,” Marcus responded, rubbing Hudson’s belly. “And seeing you so huge, so round, so overripe is too good not to see it ever again,” he added, and both laughed before a powerful contraction cut the moment short.

“Ugh! Let’s focus on this one, and then we’ll talk about more,” Hudson said, taking deep breaths as his body began to stretch and open, preparing to bring his ten long-awaited babies into the world after 311 days of immense, agonizing pregnancy.

...

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