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After I found myself at college, far away from the house I grew up in, I reveled in my new freedom. I became involved in student activities, and lived on campus for two years, and was a residence adviser (RA) for a year. The benefits of being an RA included your own single room in the dorms, and a small stipend. It was great to have a door capable of being locked at times, when I wanted to be alone to play, or share with a certain female companion.
My third year at college, I moved off-campus to a newer apartment community that had sprung up around the fringes of the college. I also was heavily involved in my psychology curriculum, and loved just about all of my classes. It was in a class that involved teaching the correct way to interview subjects, and how to create and deliver a proper questionnaire, that I met her.
We both had a tendency to come in last-minute to class, so we sat towards the back, usually within just a seat or two of each other. We got paired up once for an in-class assignment, and seemed to hit it off pretty well, so we sought each other out for assignments from then on. She had an easy laugh, long blondish hair, and knew how to speak about sex in casual conversation, in a clinical conversation, or when we were just being stupidly silly.
She also had a steady boyfriend. Isn't that the way it goes? Well, I was in-between relationships at the moment, so I figured that the "our time" we shared in class would be enough. I didn't know it would become more than that.
One day, we'd paired up as usual to complete an assignment in-class. This one was asking questions off a questionnaire to gauge when someone had first experience masturbation, what the experience was like, if fantasy was involved, and if so, what seemed to trigger the erotic feelings...an image, a sound, a smell? Well, it turned out that our instructor wanted it paired up male/female on this, so it worked out wonderfully for us. When it got to the part where she needed to ask the questions, I could hear her breath catch a bit when she heard that, for me, my earliest masturbation experience involved fantasizing about having a pregnant belly. She handled it wonderfully though, and went right through the rest of the questions, and then I asked her. After the class was over, on the way out, she asked me, point blank..."how much of that was real, and how much made-up?". I told her the answers were as real as the ones she gave me. "Hmmm, interesting" she said. She gave a low, conspiratorial chuckle, and then was on her way home.
I asked her, off-handedly, if she lived on-campus. Yes, she said, with my boyfriend. She told me where, in case we ever needed to study together -- it was about three buildings down from my off-campus apartment.
Fast-forward six months or so. We've built quite a friendship, and she has hung around with Mr. Steady though this time. She misses two classes one week, and then leaves a message on my answering machine asking for notes from them. When I finally get a chance to catch up with her, she gives me the news -- she is pregnant, and Mr. Steady, well, was actually Mr. Not-So-Much. He had freaked out, didn't want any part of this, and it had all ended badly. She was going to have the baby, but definitely wanted to give it up for adoption. I immediately volunteered to help her through whatever she needed. She thanked me and said that would be great.
It turned out to be a good bonding experience between her, me, her close girlfriends, and, in the end, her parents. All this is prelude to what happened one summer evening, when she was about 7 months along.
Having known my sexual preference in fantasy, she invited me over to share some pizza and watch a movie on a Friday night. I happily obliged, throwing on my sweats and a college shirt. Once we ate some slices, and sat down to watch the movie on her couch, we talked back and forth about recent news with our mutual friends. I asked her how she was feeling now, and she got that fun, conspiratorial look in her eye again as she cocked her head slightly towards the side. "I have a question for you", she said. She kept her gaze level with mine. "I know you love fantasizing about pregnant women...have you ever fantasized about me? Be honest, now." What could I say? I told her the truth, that ever since her belly and breasts had begun to expand a few months back, that she had become my major fantasy that kept me occupied when I did get off. I hoped she would take it well. I hoped she wouldn't hit me. "Well, I kinda figured." She laughed, snorting a bit. Then this..."so, dontcha think it's time you try this pregnancy thing out for a bit?". My mind reeled. The only thing I could remember was that, a while back in class, we had talked about pregnancy simulators for men, which was a specially-formed suit that some counselors used for men to experience a bit of what it might feel like to be pregnant...however, I knew they were expensive, and I didn't think she had one stashed around her apartment anywhere. "Hang on a sec." she said. She slowly got herself off the couch, said "Don't peek; I'll be a few minutes", then headed back for the kitchen, rummaged around for a bit, then headed to the bathroom.
I was intrigued. I was excited. I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck.
After a few minutes, she called me back to the bathroom. When I got there, I saw the scenario she had laid out for me. In the bathtub, she had her soft, white vinyl bath pillow she used to prop her head up when she took baths...which were getting more infrequent these days, since she had grown larger and her center of gravity was thrown off. She had pulled up a chair next to the tub, and asked me to get in. Before I did though, she had me put a huge garbage bag she had found up inside my shirt, and had me pull the open end of the bag through the neck of the shirt. Then she had me tie off the drawstrings on my sweatpants a little tighter. "You ready now," she said. "Kick off those shoes and socks, and I hope you don't mind getting a little wet, potentially." She also twirled around in her hand the removable shower head on a long hose that she had detached from inside the tub. "Time for you to get pregnant, young man."
She very obviously saw the erection that shoved through the front of my sweats. "Aww, that's sweet" she said, noticing. "Time for a little workout. How much weight do you think that thing of yours can support?" I was speechless. "Well, hop in, let's see". I did as I was told.
Resting against the vinyl pillow, I moved my legs apart a bit on the bottom of the tub. She meanwhile turned on the water experimentally, testing the temperature by running it into the sink next to the tub. When she got it to a nicely warned temperature, she turned back towards me. "This won't hurt a bit" she said, as she snaked the showerhead into the top of the bag under the neck of my shirt. She tied it off with a twist-tie. "Here we go, one preggo male, coming up!" She turned on the water.
The results were very comical, and very sensual. The water flowed into the bag, and the bag filled up under my shirt, giving me a fast version of what she looked like. As I expanded, the "belly" came to rest on my erection, and the pressure it caused was tremendous. At one point, she had me try getting up, but as I leaned forward, the bag threw my balance off, and all I could manage was to fall back, helpless under this mad scientist's experiment.
She let me grow more, and as I expanded, she slipped a hand under the multi-month belly I now hard, and found my waistband...undoing it, she slipped her hand down to my erection, and began rubbing it, bouncing her hand off the water-filled bag above, then coming down hard on my shaft. I got so into what she was doing, I lost track of the water, and closed my eyes...when I opened them about a minute later, my shirt was all but filled, and my pseudo-pregnant belly was so big that the sides were now coming up the sides of the bathtub itself. I was now a massive water belly with some legs and arms attached. She took pity on me then, and got me off after a few minutes more. We then drained the bag (almost a story in itself), and got my wet self out of the tub. Now dripping, she asked me to just leave my stuff in the tub, and that she'd wash them and get them back to me before I left. I obliged, and, rather longingly, looked at her now naked and very pregnant form. "Come on," she said now, "You're soaked. Let's get you dry, and then we can get back to the movie...later". With one last conspiratorial look, she toweled me off, and then led me by the hand back to her bedroom instead. The movie and pizza would have to wait.
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Epilogue: Inspired by this real-life adventure, I got two stories out of it -- Filling The Void, and Pregnant Paws. I'll present Filling The Void next, then save the other for some other time.
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