A Father's Obvious Secret - Part 2 (Patreon)

Father's Day Special🫃🏻

By midmorning, Craig had already lived through what felt like a full day, but the clock said otherwise, and work didn’t care how tired he was. He shuffled into his home office with the careful steps he had gotten used to, instinctively resting one hand against the side of his belly, as if that could help him balance the immense weight.

The chair looked smaller than it used to, the desk felt closer than it should, and everything was subtly wrong, making him think and plan movements that used to be automatic. He adjusted his stance, took a breath, and lowered himself into the chair with an exaggerated exhale, using the desk as an anchor to help through the process. His hips barely fit in the chair, making it creak as if the frame would give up any second.

Before the pregnancy, logging in was simple, so it only took a couple of seconds, but it had become a routine of small calculations. The laptop sat atop a pile of books, angled high enough so the camera caught only his head and shoulders. From the outside, from the neat little rectangle on everyone else’s screen, he looked like any other guy working from home. Clean enough, presentable enough, hair pushed back, and a neutral expression. The illusion held as long as nobody could see below, where nothing about him was normal.

His enormous belly pressed heavily against the edge of the desk, taking over his lap and then some. He had to sit slightly farther back, with his legs spread wide to accommodate the massive belly. The position was far from comfortable as the weight pulled at his lower back even while sitting, so the pressure never went away, and every few seconds there was movement—kicks, rolls, and stretches—making it impossible to settle down.

Craig took a deep breath and softly caressed the sides of his belly, catching his breath and trying to gather his thoughts before logging in. He looked down, only to see his massive tits and enormous belly taking over most of his view, reminding him of how impossibly huge the pregnancy had expanded his whole body.

The first meeting of the day started like any other—voices popped in, small talk started, and someone complained about traffic out of habit, even though half the team hadn’t commuted in years. Craig smiled when appropriate, nodded along, and kept his tone easy when he spoke.

Then, something moved inside him, hard enough to make him gasp and groan. He muted himself immediately, and his hands moved to press against his belly as if that might calm whatever was happening. “Okay, easy there, boys,” he whispered, careful to keep it low enough that his mic wouldn’t pick it up even by accident.

“Craig, are you seeing these numbers?” someone asked.

He forced his hand back to the desk, straightened slightly, and unmuted. “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he said, as if nothing had just happened. “Give me a second to pull that up.”

Craig clicked through screens while another baby rolled inside him, slower this time but just as strong. He clenched his jaw but fixed his eyes on the monitor so nobody would notice how his shoulders tightened. His body was reacting to something that felt like a full-body interruption, but he had to play his role as just another employee talking about logistics. The contrast would have been funny if it didn’t hurt so much.

The meeting ran long, well past the time when it should have ended, and Craig found himself muted more often than not, not because he had nothing to say but because he kept reacting to the babies’ kicks and sudden pressure that he couldn’t control. A particularly strong push made him shift in his seat, and a groan slipped out of his mouth before he caught himself. He pressed the mute button just in time, but someone still noticed.

“Craig, are you still with us?” the supervisor asked.

The pregnant man cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry, I’m here. I just had to grab something,” he said. The excuses came automatically at this point, not only at work but also in everyday activities with his family.

Nobody questioned it, and the meeting kept going.

By the time he logged off, Craig felt drained in a way that had nothing to do with work itself. He hadn’t gone anywhere, he hadn’t done anything strenuous, but his body still felt like it had been working nonstop. He had to stay there for a while, rubbing his belly and trying to gather the strength to stand up because there was still too much to do around the house.

By noon, the exhaustion was overwhelming, but the hunger came right back with it, worse than ever. It felt as if his body had been waiting for the moment he stopped focusing on something else to attack all at once. His stomach growled, the babies kicked up a storm, and his whole body suddenly felt too heavy, with no energy to keep going unless he found some food.

Craig stood slowly, groaning while pushing himself up from the chair and making his way back to the kitchen. His waddle was slower than before, as his hips were sore after sitting for too long. One of his hands pressed firmly against the small of his back for balance while the other moved absentmindedly over the side of his belly. Every inch of his body and his manners screamed “pregnant,” but as a man, and considering he was so incredibly big, nobody would’ve figured out what was really going on with him. He was just a big, hungry man.

Lunch didn’t start as lunch but as an urgency. He opened the fridge and started pulling things out, stacking them on the counter without much thought. Craig grabbed leftovers, cold cuts, bread, fruit, and anything that appeared edible. He didn’t bother plating things properly; he just stood there and ate, leaning against the counter for support, and chewing quickly before reaching for the next thing.

By the time Tyler wandered into the kitchen, Craig already had a spread going that looked like he was preparing food for multiple people.

Tyler stopped in the doorway, lifting his eyebrows. “What the hell is all that?”

Craig didn’t even pause and only grabbed another bite of frozen pasta. “Lunch,” he said.

“For who?” Tyler replied. “The whole neighborhood?”

Craig snorted. “It’s for me.”

Dwight came in right after, took one look at the counter, and froze, staring. “Dad, are we having people over?”

“Nope.” Craig reached for another container, popped it open, and kept eating. “I’m just hungry. I’ve had a long day.”

Tyler leaned against the counter, watching him for a second. “That’s not hungry. That’s—I don’t even know what that is. You’ve been eating like this for months.”

Craig laughed, shaking his head. “You two eat like this all the time.”

“No, we don’t,” Dwight responded immediately. “That’s like an entire team’s lunch.”

Tyler chuckled. “Yeah. You’re eating for like four people at the same time,” he said, split between concerned and teasing. “No wonder you’re getting so fat.”

Craig shrugged, still chewing. In his head, the number sounded ridiculous. Tyler said he looked like he was eating for four when he was actually feeding himself and 8 babies—9 people in total. He didn’t say it and only kept eating.

By the time he slowed down, the counter looked like he had hosted and cleaned up after a small gathering by himself. The boys exchanged looks, somewhere between impressed and slightly concerned, but neither of them pushed it. At this point, it was another weird thing about their dad. With a belly that pushed about 3 feet in front of him and a chest resembling a pair of volleyballs, seeing Craig eating so much wasn’t as shocking anymore.

After lunch, the exhaustion hit harder. Sitting down felt like a reward he had earned, something his body demanded, so he went to the living room with careful steps, already thinking about how wonderful it would feel to stop moving for a while. However, getting onto the couch was a whole process that always made him sigh and groan.

Craig turned slightly, braced one hand against the armrest, and lowered himself carefully, exhaling as he went. His belly forced his knees apart, taking up the space in front of him and pushing his tits higher. He reached back to adjust cushions behind his lower back, shifting until he found something that felt even remotely supportive. Even then, nothing felt right. His lower back ached; his hips felt sore from carrying so much weight all day, and his chest felt overfilled and sensitive, as if needing attention he wasn’t giving it.

He turned on the TV, flipping to something mindless, something he didn’t have to think about. The plan was simple: sit, watch, and relax, but it didn’t work. Within minutes, the babies moved inside him, and a visible bulge pushed outward on one side before easing back. Another one followed on the opposite side. He adjusted slightly, trying to get comfortable again, but the position that had felt almost okay a second ago was suddenly wrong.

“Come on,” he said, groaning and shifting again.

Another baby pressed against the walls of his womb, stronger this time, making him groan loudly and press his hand against his belly as if that might calm it. His attention drifted down to the constant motion beneath his shirt more often than it stayed on the screen, and before long, he realized he hadn’t followed anything that had happened in the show.

After 20 minutes, he felt as tired as before and thought that reading would be better. He reached for a book, settled back again, and immediately ran into a new problem. His abdomen pushed everything farther away from him, forcing his arms to extend more than was comfortable, and his rounded tits made it awkward to hold the book close. He adjusted, tried again, and shifted his grip, but nothing worked.

He started reading anyway, but barely a few lines in, something pushed up under his ribs, making him pause and inhale sharply. He shifted again, then tried to pick up where he left off, but another movement followed, lower this time, pressing down so hard that his back arched instinctively as if trying to handle the pressure. He reread the same paragraph three times before finally exhaling and letting the book rest against the top of his middle instead.

“This is pointless,” he whispered to himself. “Maybe a nap will work.”

It sounded reasonable, but getting up didn’t feel reasonable at all. He leaned forward and slowly pushed up from the couch with a groan. His body resisted for a moment before finally cooperating. The walk to the bedroom felt longer than it should have, and lowering himself onto the bed was another careful operation. And once he was there, the real challenge began—finding a position that didn’t feel terrible.

On his back, Craig felt short of breath immediately as the immense weight of his belly pressed on his lungs so much that it made his chest feel tight. On his side, his hips and shoulders protested within minutes as the pressure built quickly. Rolling over took effort—a combination of shifting weight and using his arms to guide himself into place. Pillows ended up everywhere—behind his back, between his knees, under his belly, and under his head.

He adjusted, readjusted, shifted again, trying to create something that resembled comfort. And just as he started to settle, the movement began again—a push near the top of his abdomen, another along his side, a ripple across his middle that visibly changed its shape under the shirt. He let out a slow breath, slowly rubbing his belly, but it didn’t stop.

Craig drifted toward sleep anyway, but only for a couple of minutes as a sharp kick jolted him awake. He blinked, stared at the ceiling for a second, then let out a groan. “Seriously?” he whispered. “Please, give your dad a break,” he said, and his words made him stop. Since he was giving the babies up for adoption, he tried not to call himself “dad” when talking to them, but it was impossible to avoid it. He was their dad.

A few minutes later, something else interrupted his thoughts—he needed to pee again. He rolled onto his side and pushed up slowly while groans escaped his lips. Sitting up felt like a task, standing was a challenge, and walking to the bathroom felt like a whole trip. By the time he got there, he was already tired again, and by the time he made it back, he could feel the hunger creeping in again, despite everything he had eaten not that long ago.

The rest of the afternoon followed the same pattern. He moved between the couch, the recliner, the kitchen, and the bathroom, never staying in one place long enough to feel comfortable. Every attempt to rest created a new problem. Every adjustment solved one thing and caused another. He ate, sat, stood, shifted, and tried again, but nothing worked. He felt more tired than when he started, trapped inside a body that demanded constant attention, adjustment, and effort, even when he wasn’t trying to do anything.

A while later, the front door clicked open, and Craig immediately sighed in relief when he heard his wife, Jessica, coming in. As soon as he heard her voice, his shoulders loosened slightly, even though her presence meant he had another person to worry about while hiding his very obvious pregnancy.

“I’m home,” Jessica said, walking down the hallway.

Craig smiled and turned his head, already feeling that automatic shift he always had around her, even if the rest of him was still a mess. She walked into the living room a moment later, setting her bag down by the door before looking over at him. The expression on her face changed immediately, not dramatically, but only a narrowing of her eyes.

Jessica noticed the evident discomfort on her husband’s face. “Hey,” she said as she walked closer. “You okay, big guy?”

Craig smiled, trying to cover how overwhelmed and exhausted he really was. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said, pushing himself up a little straighter even though his lower back protested the second he did. “Just a long day.”

She stopped beside him, studying him for another second longer than most people would have. “You look exhausted,” she said, reaching out to brush her fingers lightly along his arm. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Some,” he replied, shrugging as if it weren’t worth getting into. “But I’m okay.”

Jessica smiled, and her hand moved over his shoulder, then slid lower across his rounded tits, finally settling atop Craig’s massive belly. It was an absent gesture that she’d started doing months ago without ever commenting on it. “You’ve been working too much,” she said, softly patting her husband’s taut middle. “And you’re not eating enough. You need to take better care of yourself.”

Craig almost laughed at that as his face turned red. “Yeah,” he said, nodding as he agreed. “I’ll work on that. I’m starving right now.”

It was absurd. He had spent the entire day eating as his life depended on it, and somehow she was still telling him he needed more. And still, she wasn’t wrong in the way she meant it. She saw him struggling but did not understand the reason behind it.

She gave his abdomen another soft pat before moving toward the kitchen, already slipping into her routine. “I’ll start dinner,” she called over her shoulder. “You sit for a bit.”

Craig nodded, watching her go as relief and guilt settled in his chest. She knew him better than anyone, and he was still sitting there, telling her half-truths like it was nothing. The plan in his head suddenly felt thinner than it had that morning. He was supposed to disappear, handle everything, and come back, and no one would know. But Jessica could look at him for five seconds and see something was wrong. Still, he pushed the thought aside, because he had been doing that for months.

A while later, Craig followed Jessica into the kitchen, and his body already felt more worn down than it had earlier, like every hour had added weight he couldn’t account for. He tried to help, because that’s what he always did, but helping wasn’t that simple anymore.

He stood for a few minutes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, then leaned his hip against the counter when his lower back started aching again. He reached for something to chop, then stopped halfway through when a strong kick made him gasp, forcing him to pause and brace himself lightly against the edge of the counter while catching his breath.

“You good?” Jessica asked without turning around.

“Yeah,” he said, picking the knife back up as if nothing had happened. “Just slipped.”

His lies weren’t convincing anymore—they didn’t have to be. Jessica let it go the way she always did, but he could still feel her awareness. Craig tried to stay useful, grabbing ingredients and moving things around, but every position had a limit. Standing on his feet hurt after a few minutes, sitting made his abdomen press uncomfortably against his thighs while also forcing his chest upward toward his face. Every movement made it harder to breathe easily, and leaning helped for a bit until a baby moved inside him again.

Around him, the boys acted casual as if trying to ignore the literal elephant in the room, talking about friends and plans for the coming weeks. Tyler was going on about something for the summer, some training schedule or a trip he was trying to convince someone to join. Dwight jumped in with his plans, contradicting his brother but trying to one-up him as he always did.

Craig listened, nodded, asked questions, and laughed in the right places. On the surface, it was easy. Underneath, there was always something else happening. While Tyler talked, Craig felt a series of heavy movements deep in his abdomen that made him shift his stance to compensate. While Dwight made a joke, Craig laughed, but at the same time, he adjusted his hips because the pressure had become unbearable again. When he reached for a plate, he had to angle himself around his middle, careful not to bump into anything.

The family saw a tired dad at the end of a long day, because that was all they were supposed to see. Any other explanation seemed too crazy to believe.

Given Craig’s appetite, dinner had turned into a whole event. The table was filled with more food than usual, and Craig sat down carefully, feeling the strain in his back and hips as he adjusted to fit himself into the chair.

The moment he started eating, something in him took over. Craig ate fast, steady enough not to look out of control but so eagerly that it made him look like he hadn’t eaten in days. One serving disappeared quickly, then another, and another. The movements were automatic as he reached for more.

Tyler watched him for a second before shaking his head. “I swear, you’ve got like a black hole in there,” he said, gesturing toward Craig’s midsection.

Dwight snorted. “Seriously. Where does it even go?”

Jessica looked at him, and a small smile appeared on her face, along with something playful behind it. “Are you ever actually full?” she asked. “I can make more if you need.”

Craig laughed, already reaching for another serving. “I’m good,” he said. “This is great.”

The truth was harder to put into words. He already felt full—overfull. His abdomen was stretched so tight it felt like there shouldn’t be room for anything else, as if everything inside him was already packed together as far as it could go. But the hunger didn’t fade; it didn’t even soften, only stayed sharp and demanding, clawing at him from the inside and pushing him to keep eating like he hadn’t had a single bite all day.

He ate faster, not even paying attention to what he was grabbing anymore, only reaching, chewing, swallowing, and reaching again. There was something almost desperate in how he moved, as if his body had taken over and wasn’t giving him much choice in the matter. Every bite felt necessary, urgent, as if he stopped for too long, something inside him would start protesting even louder.

And with every bite, the pressure inside him grew. He could feel it happening in real time. His abdomen, already stretched to a point that felt impossible, seemed to push outward a little more with each mouthful. It pressed heavier against his lap, nudging closer to the edge of the table as the fabric of his shirt tightened across the surface.

The babies started moving even more, as if responding to all the food their dad was giving them. Movement picked up, so strong that Craig groaned loudly without even thinking about it. Entire sections of his middle shook under the fabric, bulging outward before settling, only to be replaced by another push somewhere else. It felt so crowded that it was difficult to process the sensations, as if everything inside him were competing for space that didn’t exist.

He paused once, only long enough to inhale sharply as a particularly strong movement made him wince. His fork stopped halfway to his mouth, and his hand tightened slightly as his breath shortened. For a second, it looked like he might stop, but he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled and kept eating as if his life depended on it.

At one point, he leaned back in his chair, and one hand came up to rest against the top of his abdomen, spreading his fingers over the tight surface as if he could feel how far it had pushed. For a brief moment, he was sure that was it, that he couldn’t possibly fit another bite inside him, that his body had finally reached a limit. But then Jessica handed him a dish, and without thinking, he reached out and served himself more.

The table laughed, making Craig laugh as well because he knew it was ridiculous. Inside, though, there was something else, closer to disbelief, because he could feel how full he was. He could feel how tight his skin had become, how heavy everything inside him felt, and how every movement from the babies pressed outward against an already overburdened space. And still, his body kept asking for more.

By the time everyone else started finishing up, Craig was still eating. He continued snacking and picking at whatever was left, even after the dishes had disappeared. The boys drifted away, one heading upstairs and the other toward the living room. Jessica stayed behind to start cleaning, moving around the kitchen like she did most nights.

Craig stayed where he was because he was still eating and because standing up again felt like something he could put off for a little longer. His abdomen felt impossibly tight, the skin stretched to its limit, the pressure was unbearable, and the movement never stopped. His back and his hips ached; his entire body felt worn down, almost on the verge of bursting.

Once the table was cleared around him, he found himself sitting alone, with a few plates still scattered nearby. He was exhausted, uncomfortable, and fearing the skin across his belly would finally give way. But after months of unstoppable growth, kicks, stretches, and overeating, part of him knew his body could still handle some more, which was perfect given the hunger that would very likely come back within a few minutes.

“Ugh, I need you all to come out soon,” he whispered, barely audible, looking at his massive belly while his hands moved across the sides.

Then, his phone buzzed against the table, and the vibration was sharp enough to make him flinch. He reached for it, looking down, and felt a small jolt run through him when he saw the name on the screen: Cody—the neighbor who had gotten him pregnant. Craig hesitated for a few seconds but then opened the message and read quickly, taking in an invitation to a Father’s Day barbecue on Sunday, June 21st.

Despite his overwhelming situation, Craig’s mind instinctively drifted into the memory of a similar event 9 months ago, when too many beers led the two men into Cody’s garage to “talk.” He remembered the moment way too vividly, and it made his cock stir beneath his enormous belly. He could still remember Cody’s thick cock stretching his hole in ways that it should never have done. He still remembered the intense pounding and the heat between their bodies. That moment had changed everything, and Cody had no idea what he had caused.

Craig looked at the calendar on the wall without really meaning to, doing the math. He exhaled slowly, leaning back slightly in his chair as a small sense of relief settled in. In his mind, he would be done by then, and he held onto that thought more firmly than anything else, because he needed it to be true. The babies would be gone, the adoption handled, and everything back to normal before any of this could overlap with something like that.

He typed out a quick reply, accepting the invitation, and a small smile appeared on his lips as a few more memories of hanging out with Cody drifted through his mind. It would all be over by Sunday, he told himself again, holding onto the thought in his head like it was something solid he could rely on. It had to be.

...

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HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!🫃🏻