Heavy Load - Epilogue

Additional Tier-exclusive

Eight months had passed since the day Zeke gave birth to the sextuplets after months in denial. The memory was still raw in his mind—the pressure, the pain, the unbelievable stretch, but also the most satisfying release he had ever experienced every time one of his six baby boys slid out of his body. It took a few days for him to process the whole ordeal, but now he had happily embraced this new life.

He sat in his office in silence, hearing the low hum of the breast pumps attached to his massively swollen tits. The pump’s rhythmic suction soothed him through his regular work hours. The only other sound in the room was the soft clack of his keyboard as he scrolled through a detailed digital blueprint on his monitor. He adjusted the drawing with precise strokes on the trackpad, expanding the blue and white grid and rotating it under his touch.

Zeke sat leaning slightly back in a reinforced office chair specially ordered to handle his growing size. His thick thighs spread comfortably apart, allowing room for the broad bulk of his lower body as his arms rested lazily on the wide armrests and his fingers moved with relaxed familiarity across the input pad. His expression was calm and focused, with his brows lightly furrowed as his mouth chewed on a chocolate-covered protein bar. Crumbs clung to the corner of his lips, but he didn’t mind at the moment.

Beside the computer on his desk sat two large collection jars, already half-filled with rich, warm milk. The pumps attached to his heavy chest moved in rhythmic motions, drawing out thick streams from his dark, swollen nipples. His pecs had become enormous, round, and full, like juicy overinflated basketballs. His tailored gray office tee was rolled up all the way, revealing his tits while the pumps worked. But when it was fully on, the fabric stretched taut over them, constantly damp with milk that soaked through the top seams.

His milk production was so ridiculously high that even now he could feel the occasional trickle escaping around the edges of the suction cups, rolling down the curve of his chest and falling down the sides of his rounded body. Even after all these months dealing with lactation, Zeke could barely believe that a manly construction worker like him had become a dairy cow with immense tits that could feed the whole crew on site and then some.

The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, the continuous draw of the pumps had become something like a meditation. It grounded Zeke, helping him focus on his tasks. As the milk steadily flowed, he could feel the tension in his shoulders melt away. The labor of his body doing something useful and deeply satisfying made him proud. The babies needed the milk, and he couldn’t only provide it for them but also go beyond and fill jars of excess milk.

No matter how freaky it was, he couldn’t be happier whenever he thought about his babies drinking his milk. He glanced toward a photograph on the corner of his desk. A sweet shot of his family taken a few months ago: Anne and Harry held two babies each, while Owen and Taylor held the other two. The image made his chest swell with pride. Even after all he had done and the things he still had to face, that photo reminded him of what was important.

He shifted in his chair, reaching for a small plastic container of sliced mango and popping a few pieces into his mouth. As he chewed, the weight of his body pressed into the seat, and the fabric of his stretch-waist slacks bunched at the hips. The milking sessions brought some peace and calmness to his days, but it was only part of the consequences of his acts that he still had to face.

The pumps cycled to a halt with a soft hiss, and Zeke grunted as he leaned forward to turn the milk pumps off. The jars were full, but his tits still felt overfilled. His whole body immediately protested the motion. A guttural groan escaped his mouth as he leaned farther forward, fighting against the bulk of his massive belly that took up his whole lap and then some. The colossal dome surged forward into his view, crowding into the space between his arms and pressing against the desk.

He paused to catch his breath, lovingly drifting one hand down the rounded middle to stroke the sweat-slick curve of his exposed abdomen. Since his t-shirt had been rolled up while the pumps were attached, his belly was bare, gloriously round and heavy with life. Even after all the stress and chaos the first pregnancy had caused, Zeke had surprisingly gotten pregnant again barely a day after the birth of the sextuplets.

The curve of his abdomen was immense, smooth, and taut, lined with faint reddish stretch marks and a dark line running vertically from below his navel. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on the thick patch of hair crowning his belly, making him look even bigger. He exhaled slowly, resting one hand atop the dome as he rubbed in circular motions with the other, both in awe and in fatigue. He was in love with this body now—the belly, kicking; the tits; the constant milk—but that didn’t mean it wasn’t exhausting.

“Ugh. Eight months,” Zeke whispered, smiling while lovingly looking down at his hairy middle. “I don’t know if I’ll survive another month of this… again.”

The babies kicked in response, moving deep within him, close to where his hand moved. He groaned softly, leaning back again. He never thought he’d be pregnant twice in the same year—but here he was, once again full with sextuplets, the second litter conceived the day after he gave birth to the first set. Gerald had been too eager, and Zeke had been too weak to resist. The announcement of a second pregnancy hadn’t been as shocking as the first, but it was definitely surprising considering the circumstances.

Now he didn’t only have to provide milk for his baby boys but also grow a whole new set of six boys in his fertile womb. It sounded illogical, but his entire body had risen to meet the challenge. He was leaking more milk than ever. His tits overproduced milk as if his body already knew more mouths would be arriving soon. His hips had widened even more, his back ached constantly, and his belly defied belief. It was rounder, tighter, and heavier than the first pregnancy. It jutted out over his lap like a personal desk, dominating his front.

He took a deep breath, feeling the babies move, and chuckled to himself, “I feel like I’m working two full-time jobs: construction supervisor and incubator. Oh, and let’s not forget working as a dairy cow for six hungry mouths. It must be a record-breaking thing.”

Zeke laughed, and as he reached for another snack bar—this one filled with nuts and caramel—there was a soft knock at the door. Zeke looked up as the secretary leaned in with her usual friendly smile. At this point, she had come to be used to finding Zeke in the middle of milking sessions or taking a moment to spread lotions over his overfilled middle.

“Zeke? Sorry to interrupt, but the boss is waiting for you,” she said.

Zeke nodded, licking a smear of chocolate from his thumb. “Thanks. One sec. Or more than a second; I’m not the fastest these days,” he responded, and she laughed before leaving.

He carefully shut down the blueprint display, saving his adjustments. He carefully unplugged the pump, gently removing the suction cups from his chest with a wet pop. A sharp shiver ran through him as small beads of milk continued flowing. He blotted himself with a cloth, sighing at how sensitive his nipples still felt, throbbing, overworked, and raw from constant nursing and milking. He exhaled in a ragged breath as his pecs twitched from the overstimulation. At this point, even this simple act filled his body with intense sensations.

Standing upright was always a project now. Zeke groaned, placing both hands on the armrest and slowly pushing himself to his feet. One of his hands automatically went to the small of his back, digging his fingers into the aching area, while the other cradled the bottom of his swollen middle. The motion made his shirt ride up again, but he reached down and tugged it back into place. This wasn’t the time or place to go waddling around with his hairy belly exposed, no matter how much people on site enjoyed the view.

The babies stirred from the motion. A strong thump hit just beneath his ribs, followed by a squirming roll against the lower right side. Zeke winced, rubbing the spot through the fabric. “Easy in there,” he said under his breath. “Save those kicks for when we’re with the boss.”

Zeke made his way out into the hall with a wide and slow gait. Every step caused the massive belly to wobble slightly, and his lower back bore the strain. He hadn’t worn shoes with laces in months. Even his slacks had become sweatpants with a deceptive drawstring that did very little, and the soft fabric was the best option to give him some comfort, not only around his massive fat ass or meaty hips, but also to give his swollen balls support and space to breathe even below the planet-sized belly. It all only made him take steps more carefully.

As Zeke rounded the corner, he saw a familiar face. His eldest son, 19-year-old Harry, had started working on the construction site a few months ago to earn some money for a trip before entering college. The decision had made Zeke proud, and the boy had been a skilled and responsible worker so far.

However, Harry now stood near the vending machines with a striking young man beside him. The two were laughing in a way that was far too close and far too giddy for just coworkers. Their heads nearly touched, and Harry’s hand wasn’t only resting on the other guy’s body; it was gently tracing slow circles on his lower back.

Zeke’s brows raised in curiosity as he recognized the young man instantly—Jordan, one of the newest hires on the site. Zeke had personally overseen his onboarding and had quickly pegged him as a charmer. The guy was 20, tall, and golden-skinned, with a shock of floppy dark curls and eyes that sparkled so beautifully that even the straightest men gasped. Jordan had an easy swagger, the kind that turned heads whether he meant to or not, and today he was all but showing off. His reflective vest hung completely unzipped, revealing a snug white tank stretched over a sculpted chest, and his toolbelt slung low on his hips.

Jordan was grinning at something Harry had just said, and his hand briefly brushed over Harry’s lower abdomen in an almost teasing nudge. Harry was red-faced and visibly enchanted and tried to swat him playfully away, but didn’t move an inch from where he stood pressed against him. Zeke smirked slowly. It wasn’t just flirting. It was the kind of behavior that said something had already happened. He cleared his throat as he approached.

Harry jerked slightly, turning toward his father and turning pale. “Hey, Dad!”

Zeke chuckled, folding his arms atop his belly. “Hey, kid. How’s the grind?”

Harry shrugged. “Just taking a break.” He stepped instinctively away from Jordan.

The young man gave Zeke a charming smile. “Good afternoon, boss,” he said brightly, and Zeke nodded in response.

Zeke’s eyes drifted lower for a second. Harry wore the same work pants and t-shirt as most of the crew, but there was a subtle curve beneath his shirt. It was something barely noticeable, but Zeke had a trained eye. He’d seen that posture before—on himself. It wasn’t confirmation, but he remembered how he had started standing with his hips slightly forward to relieve pressure and how he let his hand linger over his lower abdomen a little too often. He had no idea about the possibility of pregnancy back then, but now Harry had all the signs.

He rubbed his own belly thoughtfully, sweeping his fingers across the tight surface. His babies kicked again, as if agreeing with his thoughts. It was funny to imagine his boy heading down the same road. Zeke wasn’t sure whether to feel proud, protective, or both. If Harry was pregnant, then Jordan was the likely culprit—and frankly, Zeke couldn’t blame him. Jordan was charming, responsible, and more than a little reckless. And he made Harry laugh.

Zeke let the thought settle. His boy was possibly carrying a new generation of this family. And here Zeke was, belly full again, milk still trickling, and barely holding it all together. The circle just kept going. “You know,” Zeke said casually, “you should be careful about what you do in secret during work hours. Some things tend to stick around for months or years.”

Harry blinked, and Jordan paled. “Wha—what do you mean?”

Zeke smirked. “Not that I’m judging. But watch the desk height if you’re going to get frisky.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “DAD!”

Jordan went beet red, backing up slightly. “We—we weren’t—”

Zeke lifted a hand. “I’m just saying. I’ve seen that look. And I’ve felt those flutters. Out of all the people in the world, I’m probably the only man who understands what I’m talking about,” he laughed, feeling his babies kick again, almost proudly. He winced and rubbed his side.

Harry gaped, then instinctively rested a hand on his lower middle, as if checking something. Jordan’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but look down at the spot where Harry’s hand rested. Their silence was so deep that Zeke could almost hear their pounding hearts.

Zeke laughed, already turning away and beginning his slow waddle down the hallway. “Be safe, boys,” he called over his shoulder. “Both of you.”

“Do you think you could be… pregnant?” Jordan whispered in panic, but Zeke heard him and grinned to himself.

Moments later, Zeke barely knocked before entering Gerald’s office, already shifting uncomfortably in his clothes. When he opened the door, his whole body immediately shivered in anticipation of what he knew would happen. Gerald was seated in his wide leather chair behind the desk, entirely naked and looking magnificent. His eyes locked on Zeke with the same hunger they always did, a slow-burning intensity that never seemed to dim.

Gerald stood immediately and crossed the space between them. His hands immediately went to Zeke’s belly, cupping the underside like he was weighing the mass. “Damn, you’re even bigger than yesterday,” he whispered, awestruck.

Zeke grunted. “And sore,” he admitted, gasping as Gerald’s hands explored his middle before the man leaned in and kissed his lips. “These boys are big and heavy. Just like you.”

Without a word, Gerald reached for Zeke’s shirt and began to help him remove it. The t-shirt didn’t cover much, but the boss preferred the whole display. The suction rings from earlier had left faint circular marks around his leaking nipples, and milk continued to bead and drip down his front. Gerald smiled and leaned in to lick a trail upward, capturing one of the thick droplets before suckling gently at Zeke’s swollen nipple.

Zeke trembled as his knees buckled slightly. “Shit—careful. They’re so sensitive.”

Gerald pulled back only to smile. “I know. But I love it,” he said, moving quickly to work on Zeke’s sweatpants, hooking his fingers on the waistband.

He took his time dragging them down past Zeke’s wide hips, making sure to kiss every new patch of exposed skin. The fabric slid away with a soft friction, catching briefly over the curve of Zeke’s gigantic ass and the fullness of his thighs. Once the pants bunched at his knees, Gerald crouched down and helped Zeke step out of them—one leg at a time. The underwear soon followed, leaving Zeke fully exposed.

Zeke groaned with the effort, shifting his weight while bracing himself on Gerald’s shoulder. His cock had already begun to swell from the teasing attention, rising slightly against the underside of his belly, which wobbled outward with every movement. Gerald paused, moving his hand up between Zeke’s legs and cupping the heavy swell of his balls.

“Damn, you’re full everywhere,” he said, giving them a playful squeeze that made Zeke grunt and jerk his hips forward.

“Oh, fuck,” Zeke said through a shuddering breath. “Everything’s loaded. Everything’s so sensitive that I feel like I’ll burst.”

Gerald chuckled and traced a finger along the underside of Zeke’s cock, dragging it upward toward the sensitive tip, smearing the precum already starting to leak. Zeke hissed, and his knees buckled even more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Gerald whispered, moving his hands to squeeze Zeke’s fat ass. “And the best part is that you’re like this because of me.”

Zeke’s body arched in response, pushing his belly forward, swaying slightly with every breath, every twitch, and every touch. The weight of his belly forced his entire posture to change, spreading his legs wider and deepening his stance. It was impossible to ignore the immense dome, and Gerald didn’t try to. He worshipped it instead. His hands moved up to give the belly the attention it needed, making Zeke wince again.

“Turn around,” Gerald whispered into Zeke’s ear. “Hands on the desk.”

Zeke obeyed, turning toward Gerald’s sturdy desk and leaning forward against its edge. The cool, polished wood pressed into his forearms as he braced himself, with his belly pushing out dramatically in front of him and hanging low between his spread legs. The massive swell of his middle forcefully arched his back—there was no way to stand upright even if he tried. His hips widened instinctively for balance, and he groaned softly, feeling the strain tug at his lower back and thighs. The desk creaked faintly beneath the pressure of his weight, but it held firm—just like he needed.

Behind him, Gerald approached and gently kneaded Zeke’s ample ass cheeks before getting his cock in position. And then, Zeke felt the push of Gerald’s cock sliding inside, deep and thick. The head met resistance for only a moment before Zeke’s body gave way with a trembling yield. The sensation was electric, hot, stretching, and unrelenting. Zeke gasped loudly as the thick shaft forced its way deeper, inch by inch, filling him slowly to the brim.

Zeke moaned loud, raw, and animalistic. The desk caught his weight as his knees buckled and his entire body arched in reaction. He could feel every throb of Gerald’s cock as it sank in deeper, pressing against places that made his belly flutter and his spine arch. His breath came in ragged gasps, and milk flowed from his chest in response to the overwhelming stimulation. His belly jostled beneath him, bouncing slightly with each thrust.

“Fuck—you’re tight,” Gerald growled, pushing his hips forward.

“NO! Your cock’s huge!” Zeke grunted, barely able to respond. “Also, the babies are taking up all the space. They’re all crowded there. There’s barely any room left.”

Gerald slowed down, dragging the thrusts out, deeper and more powerful. “I can feel them moving,” he said, resting a hand on the side of Zeke’s belly as he pushed harder.

Zeke groaned, low and guttural, as his body was pushed to the edge—again. Milk dripped freely from his chest, traveling down his belly and leaving his fur sticky and damp. His cock throbbed untouched, leaking steadily onto the floor. Every thrust was matched with a forward wobble of his belly, which pressed more into the edge of the desk with every second. The babies kicked wildly, as if reacting to the stimulation. The moment was perfect and felt like it lasted an eternity.

However, a while later, Zeke cried out, ragged and primal, as he shot his load. His whole body convulsed with the force of it. His legs trembled, and his fingers looked for some kind of support on the desk. His belly slammed forward against the edge with a heavy slap, jostling the babies inside, who responded with a flurry of kicks.

Zeke’s cock erupted, shooting thick streams onto the floor beneath him, untouched but wildly overstimulated from the intense fucking. His chest let go completely as milk gushed in rivulets down his swollen tits, soaking his fur and dripping in splashes across the floor. He felt like he was exploding from every part of his body. He felt pleasure, pressure, and heat—all of it too much, too intense, and immensely overwhelming.

Seconds later, Gerald grunted and drove deep with a full-body shudder, holding himself tight against Zeke’s hips. But it wasn’t only a cum shot—it was a flood. Zeke gasped sharply as he felt Gerald’s load enter him with such force and volume that he could feel his own belly inflate outward. The pressure inside surged, the curve of his stomach physically inching forward, tighter, rounder, impossibly fuller.

He moaned again, stunned, as the taut skin stretched further. “Fuck,” he groaned breathlessly, “I’m gonna pop...” It felt like an eternity while Gerald inflated him with ridiculous amounts of hot cum.

For a long moment, neither moved. Then Gerald gently pulled out and carefully helped Zeke to the nearby couch. Zeke’s legs were jelly, and his belly wobbled heavily with each shift. Milk still leaked steadily from his chest, but he couldn’t hide his excitement.

“Boss,” Zeke panted. “I needed that. Thanks so much.”

“My pleasure. And you also need this,” Gerald said with a grin, reaching for a box on the coffee table and pulling out a giant bakery box. “Donuts from your favorite place.”

Zeke’s eyes lit up, and he let Gerald settle him onto the cushions. His belly slumped between his thighs, feeling heavier than ever. Gerald sat beside him and began to hand-feed him donuts, one by one—glazed, chocolate-filled, frosted, and powdered. He didn’t rush, pressing each bite to Zeke’s lips with tender care as his fingers lingered a little too long, brushing against the corners of Zeke’s mouth.

Zeke moaned through every bite in bliss as crumbs clung to his lips and hairy tits. “I’m gonna burst,” he whispered, licking frosting from his lips with a lazy swipe of his tongue.

Gerald leaned in, kissing Zeke’s cheek. “I don’t think so. I’m sure you have room left.”

Zeke took a deep breath and smiled. “Only if you rub me while I eat.”

Without hesitation, Gerald’s hands moved to Zeke’s belly, rubbing the swollen curve, caressing it with circular motions as his thumbs pressed in gently to massage around the tautest points. Zeke’s body trembled slightly from the touch. He leaned back, relaxing as much as he could. The tension from earlier hadn’t fully left his body, but these moments helped so much.

Another donut, another moan. Gerald’s hands never stopped moving, and with each mouthful, Zeke felt the line between fullness and ecstasy blur further.

“Fuck,” Zeke breathed, looking down at his ridiculously taut belly. “This is too much.”

Gerald leaned in and kissed his shoulder, then his neck, as one hand gently kneaded the underside of Zeke’s belly. “You always say that.”

“Because it always feels true,” Zeke said as Gerald popped another donut into his mouth. “I feel like a beached whale. Like a bomb about to explode.”

Gerald leaned in and kissed his shoulder. “You’re incredible,” he whispered. “The most beautiful beached whale and the most perfect bomb.”

Zeke sighed, enjoying Gerald’s touch as the last donut disappeared into his mouth. Then they heard a knock at the door.

The secretary spoke aloud from the other side. “Zeke? Your wife’s waiting in the parking lot! She says you have a doctor’s appointment in 30 minutes.”

Zeke groaned. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

“It’s okay. We’ll continue tomorrow,” Gerald said, kissing Zeke’s belly. “Now you go check on these big boys. I’m sure they’ll be big and healthy like their brothers.”

Gerald helped Zeke back into his clothes. It was a slow process that involved a lot of tugging, repositioning, and mutual groping, but eventually, Zeke was dressed again. Just barely.

Zeke waddled slowly out of the office and toward the van, with one hand bracing his lower back and the other steadying the bulk of his belly. He smiled when he saw Anne with the sextuplets and Owen and Taylor in the minivan.

Anne turned in her seat and smiled widely. “You look bigger than earlier.”

Zeke groaned theatrically as he eased into the passenger seat. “That’s because I am.”

“Way too many snacks at work, Dad?” Owen asked, teasing his dad.

“Yeah. Definitely way too many snacks, but you can’t blame me; your little brothers inside me are hungry all the time,” Zeke said, rubbing his hairy abdomen.

Anne leaned across and kissed him, sliding one hand to rest on his belly. “How were the boys? Apart from being hungry.”

“Squirmy, demanding, ravenous,” Zeke replied. “Not unlike their dad.”

“It sounds like a fun day,” Anne laughed, handing him a paper bag. “I brought you muffins. They’re still warm.”

Zeke took one gratefully and bit in. “You’re trying to finish what the boss started.”

She smirked, starting the engine. “I just want to make sure the next six come out as chunky as the six babies back there.”

He looked at the babies in the rearview mirror and smiled. He saw six tiny, wiggling faces strapped into car seats, and his heart filled with pride. Then he remembered the possibility that Anne and he would become grandparents soon. “You know… I saw Harry earlier. And I think he might be following in my steps, not only in construction,” he said with his mouth full.

Anne arched her brow. “He better not be using your boss’ couch.”

Zeke laughed. “No, no. I’m pretty sure it’s more like the back of the supply room with the new guy. I can’t confirm it, but I know something’s happening.”

Anne took some seconds to think and then reached over to rub his belly affectionately. “I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

Zeke laughed and leaned back in his seat, loving Anne’s sweet touch. “Anyways. I hope there’s a dozen muffins in here,” he said softly. “I’m eating for seven and feeding six more. It’s such a heavy load to carry, and I need the fuel for it,” he said, and Anne smiled at him. The idea of their family expanding even more didn’t sound crazy after all they had gone through.

The End

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PN: Hey everyone, this is part of a special series of random scenarios I know you'll like. Most of these posts will revolve around older guys (35 to 45) struggling with their (secret) pregnancies. ENJOY!