Heavy Work - Part 5

Additional Tier-exclusive

With Carson and Caden gone, the farmhouse settled into a new rhythm. Things were quieter and slower, focusing more on a raw intimacy between Cliff and Jace that they hadn’t enjoyed before. With each passing day, their bond tightened, and it was clear Jace wouldn’t go away anytime soon. He needed to be there, and Cliff needed him right beside him.

Jace now handled the entire workload of the farm by himself, rising before dawn each morning to tend to the animals and work the crops. He did so without complaint, shirtless nearly every day under the hot sun as his tanned skin glistened with sweat. He flexed his muscles as he hauled hay, fixed fencing, and watered rows of crops.

Going shirtless had started as a practicality, but quickly became a show for Cliff, who loved to watch the stunning young man work and sweat under morning light. Whenever Cliff did venture out onto the porch, he’d find himself caught staring, admiring how Jace worked, moved, and smirked knowingly when he noticed Cliff watching. It was a true sight to behold.

But most of the time, Cliff stayed indoors. His body had grown over the past few weeks, making everything challenging. He was nearly naked most of the time, lounging in oversized shorts that slid beneath his belly, and often went shirtless because nothing fit anymore. The few t-shirts that could cover at least a portion of his body clung tightly to his softened chest or rode up almost immediately, exposing the dome of his hairy belly. Even his underwear had been swapped out for elastic-fabric boxers Jace had picked up from the nearby town—looser in cut, but still no match for Cliff’s mass.

Their days together were full of activities, but not only those related to the farm. More than once during the day, Cliff would call out for Jace, sometimes from the doorway, other times waddling slowly across the farm to find him. Cliff was so hormonal and horny that he could barely handle the need and desire. His breath would quicken, his hands would restlessly roam over his belly, and he’d plead for Jace in a breathy whisper.

“I need you,” Cliff would say, and Jace would immediately know what to do.

It didn’t matter if Jace was in the barn repairing a stall or stacking feed or in the kitchen wiping down a counter; Cliff would find him, cling to him, and beg. Jace could be tired from hours of labor sometimes, but he never turned the offer down.

The barn, the back porch, the couch, the shower—anywhere could become the perfect place to fuck when Cliff got horny. Sometimes the fucking was quick and desperate, with Cliff pressed against a beam in the hayloft, his belly heavy between them, or bent forward over a kitchen counter, panting with need. Other times, Jace would carry him to the bedroom and make the older man feel loved and devoured all at once. It didn’t matter the place; the only important part for Cliff was feeling Jace’s cock stretching his hole over and over again.

But the need didn’t stop there. Cliff’s appetite had become insatiable. Jace made breakfast, snacks, and full dinners, and still Cliff found himself wandering to the kitchen to prepare something extra—bowls of oats, stacks of toast slathered in jam, slices of cheese and fruit, and always tall glasses of milk.

Sometimes he filled a large mixing bowl with cereal and milk and settled on the couch, rubbing his hairy belly between mouthfuls. Jace teased him constantly, calling it “feeding the calves” and lovingly comparing Cliff to the pregnant cows they kept in the barn. Cliff would roll his eyes, rub his belly, and chuckle through mouthfuls. He secretly loved the comparison because it made him feel like he belonged to Jace.

They still laughed about the idea of Cliff being pregnant, but the signs were growing impossible to ignore. Cliff’s body was massive now and getting bigger every day. His belly jutted so far forward that even attempting to sit up fully was a chore; he found it more comfortable to recline at a heavy angle, about 120 degrees back, allowing the immense curve of his belly to rest comfortably between his legs.

His chest had grown round and plump, with his nipples darkening and becoming very sensitive. His hips had widened into a curvaceous roundness, and his once muscular butt from farm work had grown rounder with a soft plushness that made his gait slow and waddling. A thick layer of fat had settled across his body, giving him a strange maternal softness that somehow made him more masculine than ever.

He had grown so much that Cliff had taken to wearing next to nothing inside—a thin pair of stretched shorts, and that was it, because his body constantly heated up. Even the couch cushions bore his body’s imprint, slightly damp from the heat rolling off his body. He felt like an oven working overtime to bake several buns at once. It was the reality.

Jace was delighted by how much Cliff had grown, willingly doing anything to make him feel comfortable. He kept the house stocked with snacks and made rich stews, hearty sandwiches, and pitchers of fresh milk. They joked that Cliff would soon need a pipeline from the barn to his mouth because he constantly craved milk, or that maybe they’d install a farm-grade feeder next to the bed to keep him satisfied.

Cliff laughed loudly, absentmindedly rubbing his belly. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to being hooked up to the milker, as long as it’s full of cream.” It was just a joke, they told themselves.

Work, feedings, fucks, and sweet moments filled their days, and then there were the nights. Cliff became more needy after sunset. The hormones that coursed through his body kept him craving touch, food, and closeness after Jace had finished the farm work. Most nights, he’d whimper softly as he reclined in bed, feeling the small internal flutters he still called gas. Jace would be right there, wrapped around him in a protective spoon, cradling the heavy slope of Cliff’s belly with one hand while the other gently massaged his heavy pecs.

Cliff would whisper that he felt empty again, and Jace would sigh, get up, and return with a tray of snacks—sliced fruit, meat, biscuits with butter and jam, and warm milk. Sometimes Cliff needed food more than once a night.

But it wasn’t only food Cliff craved and begged for. His hormones pushed his horniness into overdrive, getting worse at night because Jace’s presence and scent drove him crazy. Cliff was constantly flushed and breathless and would reach behind him to tug at Jace’s hand, whispering and sometimes outright begging.

“Please,” he’d mumble, making Jace smile, “I can’t sleep like this. I need you.”

Jace never hesitated. Whether it was late in their bed or out in the barn under the low-hung rafters, he’d push his cock into Cliff’s hole to make the man happy. He would thrust hard and fast, making Cliff moan and groan in bliss. His hands reached for the massive hairy belly or the plump tits as the pounding continued, making sure to pleasure the older man in all possible ways. Cliff would barely stay conscious through the intense fucking and would ask for Jace to keep his cock inside even after he had shot a fat load.

It became a nightly necessity. Cliff couldn’t sleep without it, and Jace never minded. He’d finish a long day of farm labor, strip down beside his lover, and help Cliff ease the tension from his swollen, overheated body. He’d stroke his belly and kiss the sweat-slicked arch of Cliff’s back, praising how full and ripe he looked. Cliff would whimper again, helpless and lost in the haze of hormones. It wasn’t only passion—it was lust, desire, and love.

In those moments, Cliff felt like a god of harvest, swollen and radiant, lying there heavy and cared for. His belly twitched now and then, with movements so strong that Jace could feel them. Sometimes he rested a hand flat against it and waited. But still, he said nothing. His concern grew as the kicks became more pronounced, but it was hard to argue with the sight of Cliff smiling in bliss. If Cliff didn’t believe something impossible was happening, Jace told himself, then maybe it really was only some weird combination of hormones and overeating.

Meanwhile, Cliff lived in denial, convinced that it was only the result of Jace’s constant feeding, of his own gluttony, and of the uncountable rounds of sex they had each day. He waddled slower and groaned more often when sitting down or standing up, but he never once considered that he might actually be pregnant. And so, life went on in the house and on the farm: Cliff growing rounder by the day, Jace growing more devoted, and both of them wrapped in a bubble of love, food, and sex that came closer and closer to a fantastic event with every passing hour.

****

Months later, on October 30, autumn had settled over the farm, adorning everything with a golden tone that Cliff loved. The mornings were cooler now, and the leaves rustled dryly in the breeze. The grass was still mostly green, and the scent of hay, earth, and woodsmoke hung in the air. Cliff preferred hotter days, but at this point, his body was hot enough, making him love mornings like this.

He stood at the farmhouse, using the front doorframe to steady himself. His other hand firmly pressed against his lower back, arching his back and pushing his middle forward. He was panting softly from the effort of getting out the door. His weight had ballooned to a staggering 376 pounds. He’d just stepped off the scale in the bathroom, staring in disbelief. But after months of indulgent feeding and tender spoiling from Jace, he couldn’t pretend it was unexpected. Deep down, he loved how big he had gotten.

His belly jutted a full 32 inches in front of him, stretching his skin taut, beautifully adorned by the thick mat of hair that covered the dome. His chest had grown into two full mounds that rested heavily atop his belly, feeling plump and taut all the time. His nipples had darkened and enlarged, getting so sensitive that even the faintest breeze against them made him wince and shiver. His hips had grown broader, nearly the width of his sturdy shoulders, and his butt had expanded to match—high, round, and jiggling with every step. He was beautifully curvaceous, soft, and maternal but undeniably masculine.

Cliff’s shorts clung to his hips and butt, stretching tight over his curves. They would have looked comically oversized on anyone else, but on him, they were nearly painted on, with the fabric straining at every seam. He didn’t bother with a shirt because nothing fit him over his roundness. But his whole body radiated heat constantly, so the cool morning felt fantastic against his flushed skin. Exposed was his new dress code to deal with the discomfort.

Today, things were a bit worse due to painful cramps that had been bothering him since dawn. He tried to ignore them, but they didn’t go away, making him want to stay in bed all day. But between all the struggles, he still longed for Jace. Jace was out in the barn, working on something, and Cliff wanted to see him. He felt his cock stirring helplessly beneath his massive belly, and his hole squirming in need. It was impossible to ignore what his body wanted.

With a deep breath, Cliff began his lumbering trek across the yard. Every movement was an effort. His belly swayed with its own momentum, jostling with every step. His chest bounced visibly, and the milk soundly sloshed inside. His massive ass swayed hypnotically along with his hips. Sweat beaded down his back and trickled between the folds of his body. He paused near the fence, leaning heavily on it, catching his breath.

From the nearby pen, a few curious goats wandered over, nuzzling his side. Cliff chuckled and reached out to pet them, but noticed how their noses went straight to his belly. They sniffed, nuzzled, and even rested their heads against the curve of him.

He laughed again, breathless. “Alright, alright, I get it. You think I’m one of the herd now, huh? Blame Jace. He feeds me like he feeds y’all.”

Pushing on, Cliff winced through another sharp cramp, gripping the gatepost tightly. The barn was close, so he kept going despite the pain and discomfort. He waddled forward, pushing his hand firmly at the small of his back, with his face red and damp with sweat. Going to the barn used to take him barely a few seconds, but now it felt like a marathon. But when he opened the door, Cliff smiled at the sight. The effort was worth it.

Inside the barn, Jace was shirtless as always, working by the grain bins. His body had grown even more impressive after months of farm work. The sweat made his muscles glisten under the light entering the barn, making him look stunning. He turned at the sound of footsteps and grinned. Cliff couldn’t help but gasp at the sight, and his horniness only skyrocketed.

“There’s my favorite cow,” Jace teased, stepping forward to kiss Cliff’s lips. His hands automatically went to his belly, rubbing circles over the taut, hairy surface. “And how are my calves doing? They aren’t giving you much trouble, right?”

“You’re always so funny,” Cliff wheezed out a laugh, trying to catch his breath. “We’re all doing great. But, Jace, I need you.”

Jace smirked and kissed Cliff’s lips again. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, taking Cliff’s arm and leading him to the far corner of the barn, where an old quilt had been laid out over a hay pile, forming a soft nest.

Cliff smiled, loving how Jace always found a way to surprise him with tiny—or huge—details like this. Jace carefully helped him ease himself down onto the blanket, supporting his back and guiding him onto his side first. Cliff groaned and grunted, feeling his heavy body protest the motion as Jace helped him lie on his back against the hay and spread his legs wide.

Jace slid the shorts down as Cliff lifted his hips and grunted. “If you get any bigger, I’d say you should forget about the shorts,” Jace said, helping Cliff get in a good position for a fuck, but as the older man settled in, another sharp cramp ripped through his belly.

Cliff cried out, making him curl and clutch his belly. “Ugh! Oh, fuck! Wha—what—?

Jace straightened in alarm. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Cliff could barely respond. The pain was consuming, forcing his body to tense. Something was moving—deep inside—downward. He could feel it. “Something’s happening,” he gasped. “Something’s coming.”

Jace knelt between Cliff’s legs, now fully alert and pale. Cliff let out a guttural groan as his entire body tensed, making him arch his back. Then came a sudden, loud, wet gush erupting beneath him, soaking the quilt with startling force and splashing audibly against the hay-strewn barn floor. Jace froze in place, paler than ever, observing the wetness spread and realizing it had come out of Cliff’s hole. Then, things made sense.

“Boss…” he said, barely above a whisper. “I think your water just broke.”

Cliff was panting, wide-eyed, as sweat dripped down his flushed cheeks. “What—what do you mean? Stop playing! I think I’m dying.”

“Boss,” Jace whispered, seeing Cliff’s belly contract. “You’re in labor. You’re really pregnant. I was right. It all makes sense now.”

But Cliff couldn’t respond. An overwhelming pain took over him, leaving him barely conscious. He let out a guttural cry, arching his body as his hands scrambled for something to grip. He could feel something enormous shifting low in his pelvis, stretching him from the inside. It was like his entire core was widening, opening, and demanding release.

“Oh fuck—something’s moving! It’s—it’s pushing down!” Cliff cried out.

Jace’s heart pounded. He leaned down, peering between Cliff’s trembling legs, and then went pale. There, slowly parting him from within, was a soft crown of blonde hair slick with fluid. “Oh, crap,” he breathed. “Boss, it’s happening—it’s a baby. You’re giving birth.”

Cliff barely heard him as instinct took over. His muscles tensed, and with a primal groan, he bore down and pushed. His body surged forward with effort, filling the barn with the sounds of his labor and the rustling straw beneath him.

**

Hours later, Cliff was back in their bedroom, lying on his side, exhausted and barely able to process what had happened. The room was quiet except for the occasional soft cooing and gentle rustling of blankets. Next to him—bundled up and swaddled peacefully—lay five huge newborns. Each one was bigger than he’d ever seen a baby be. Bigger even than Carson and Caden had been. Strong, plump, ruddy-cheeked, and healthy. Their hair was golden like Jace’s, with Cliff’s brows and his unmistakable smile.

Cliff’s chest was heavy and sore after recently feeding the five babies. But when one of the babies began to fuss, squirming restlessly beside him, Cliff acted on instinct. He gently lifted the little one and guided him toward his heavy tits. As the baby’s lips brushed against his nipple, Cliff felt a jolt. The baby latched perfectly, drawing a deep pull of milk, and Cliff gasped softly.

It was a strange sensation. The pressure in Cliff’s chest eased slightly with each draw, and a warmth spread through him that made his breath catch in his throat. He watched, transfixed, as his baby nursed and the tiny fingers curled softly against Cliff’s hairy skin. He never thought he would be doing this, but every second felt precious.

He was nourishing his child. His body—against every rule of the world he knew—had made room for this new life and now sustained it with ridiculous amounts of milk. It was surreal, but it felt right. Even through the exhaustion and the shock, something in him whispered that this was where he was meant to be. He stroked the baby’s back with shaking fingers, blinking away tears as he once again realized that his body had created these perfect babies.

All those months of joking, the teasing about being Jace’s cow, the insatiable hunger, the growing belly, and the intense hormonal arousal—it had all been real. Somehow, impossibly, he had conceived and carried five babies. And now, here they were—his and Jace’s sons.

Jace stepped in quietly, barefoot, looking stunning and happy. His face lit up when he saw Cliff awake, and he crossed the room quickly to kneel beside the bed. His eyes scanned over the sleeping babies in awe. “I still can’t believe it,” he whispered, brushing his fingers along one tiny cheek. “They’re perfect, all of them. I’m a dad, boss. You made me a dad.”

Cliff chuckled weakly. “I’m still trying to believe it myself. But at the same time, I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. Everything was there.”

Jace grinned. “I told you. I told you almost daily, but you said I was crazy,” he said, softly laughing. “Carson and Caden are gonna be thrilled they’ve got five new little brothers.”

Cliff shook his head slowly. “Let’s wait on that. I need to... process a little more before I find a way to explain to them that their dad was pregnant. I don’t want to scare them.”

Jace nodded, understanding. Then he stood, moved around the bed, and slipped in behind Cliff. His arms wrapped around the older man’s middle, resting his hands on the now softened, deflated hairy belly.

“I’m gonna miss this big belly,” Jace softly said, kissing Cliff’s neck.

Cliff smirked. “Well, farmer boy, you know how it is. After a cow calves, it won’t be long before she’s ready again if the bull is ready.”

Jace chuckled. “Okay. I know that. And it means what I think it means?”

“If the bull promises to take good care of the cow and the calves,” Cliff teased, turning to kiss Jace’s lips, “he might get himself another batch.”

“I’ll do all the heavy work, boss,” Jace whispered. “I’ll cook, clean, and carry you if I have to. Just say the word. We have a whole farm to fill with calves anyway.”

Cliff smiled, and Jace kissed him long and passionately. The baby still suckled on the engorged nipple as they kissed, and the others slept peacefully. The moment was perfect, but a still-hormonal Cliff couldn’t help but have some alone time with his big bull, Jace.

...

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PN: Hey everyone, this is another installment of the 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) heavy pregnancies. ENJOY!