Enjoy the Ride - Part 9

After Greg’s visit—that wild, emotional, desperate fuck—I felt different. The situation was still complex. My emotions were a mess. Things weren’t easier. If anything, I was heavier, emotionally and physically. But Greg’s arms around me and how he looked at me so lovingly and lustfully made my heart ache less. I’d felt wanted, loved, and desired for the first time in weeks. And that feeling stayed with me for a few hours until the guilt set in.

I felt like I had cheated on Mr. Griffin again. Even though Mr. Griffin and I weren’t a couple in the traditional sense, I was carrying his children. He had given me safety, a home, and devoted care. He had held me through so many overwhelming weeks, making the pregnancy enjoyable even when I was so uncomfortable. I appreciated how his big hands had moved over my belly when the babies kicked too much. I loved to hear his voice reminding me how beautiful I looked. And I’d gone behind his back again.

So, even though I had loved Greg’s visit, the following days were a roller coaster of emotions. I stayed in bed, bloated with guilt and the unstoppable growth of my pregnancy. The days were slower, filled with many thoughts and uncountable snacks. I was anxious, and, apart from the fuel my body needed to grow the ten babies inside me, I dealt with my emotions by eating everything available in the penthouse.

My world had become pillows, water bottles, prenatal vitamins, food, and frequent groaning. I was massive beyond my wildest expectations. My skin stretched tight, shining under the room’s light. My belly felt like an enormous mountain that pinned me to the mattress and made every movement awkward. It was like my middle had a gravity field, pulling everything around me into its orbit. It was overwhelming, as were the emotions blurring my mind.

The only thing that kept me sane was Marco. He would come to my room every morning, climbing on the bed and reaching for my belly to hug it. He loved talking to the babies. It was such a sweet scene that I cried almost every morning.

“Good morning, Daddy,” he would say after hugging my belly. I’d gasp every time his weight shifted near my stretched skin, but I always let him. “They’re kicking a lot,” he’d say like he was reporting the weather.

“That means they’re getting ready to meet you. At least some of them,” I’d answer, smiling through the discomfort.

I helped him get dressed for school every morning. We’d hug tightly before he left, and I counted down the hours for him to come back. When he returned in the afternoon, we colored together, played board games on the mattress, and made up bedtime stories where Marco was a superhero saving all ten of his unborn siblings from villains made of broccoli and homework. I tried not to cry every time he laughed, but my hormones were too much sometimes.

My boy made me feel better, but the fear never left me. The closer I got to my due date, the more scared I became because I didn’t know what to expect. Deep down, I knew everything would be okay because my body was capable of conceiving and carrying children, and it meant it had to be capable of giving birth. But labor was the most terrifying thing ever. I was ready to meet the babies but not to face the whole painful experience.

But then the day arrived, December 16th. I was officially 40 weeks pregnant. I was terrified but tried to remain calm for Marco. I was sitting on the couch in the evening in nothing but a stretched pair of soft jersey shorts. No shirt could cover my belly anymore. I rubbed it constantly as I sat beside Marco, who was snuggled into my side, watching videos on my phone. My tits were heavy and rounded, heavily resting atop the monumental swell of my abdomen. My nipples ached, demanding a milking session to draw the excess milk.

The babies were moving a lot. It was like they could feel the day was significant, even though they didn’t show any signs of wanting to come out yet. A limb would roll across the surface of my belly every few seconds, making it shift and bulge unnaturally. I’d gasp or groan softly, trying not to scare Marco, even though he thought the whole thing was funny.

“I think this one’s trying to dig a tunnel,” he said, pressing his ear to my bellyh, increasing my discomfort a bit more. “I hear noises!”

I laughed despite the aches and tightness. I felt clumsy and gigantic. I had weighed myself in the morning—366.5 pounds. I was officially more than twice my original weight. I should have been horrified. But I wasn’t. I loved feeling the babies move. I loved feeling full. I loved feeling needed, even if I was exhausted, sweaty, sore, and ready to pop.

And then the front door opened suddenly, and a tall, broad figure filled the doorframe.

“Uncle Mitchell!” Marco cried, jumping up and running toward him.

I looked up, and my heart beat faster as Mr. Griffin entered with his suitcase in one hand and several shopping bags in the other. He looked like a man from a magazine—tall, broad, sharply dressed, and looking stunning. I couldn’t believe how good he looked even after a flight. His sunglasses hung from his shirt collar, and his expression melted into a wide smile when he saw Marco. He dropped everything to kneel and catch Marco in a hug.

“Hey, buddy! You miss me?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“So much! Did you bring me presents?” Marco asked excitedly.

“Of course I did,” Mr. Griffin said, standing again and tousling Marco’s hair.

I was still on the couch, awkwardly rubbing my belly, trying to calm the babies down because Mr. Griffin’s voice always got them restless. I must’ve looked like a beached whale, so I blushed. Mr. Griffin glanced at me then, and—for the briefest second—his face softened. I felt a spark that I hadn’t seen in weeks. But then he looked away, and the coldness came back.

“Adam,” he said firmly. “How are you? How are the babies?”

“I’m fine,” I answered, looking down at my belly. “The babies are good. They’ve missed you. They started kicking a lot when they heard your voice, Mr. Griffin.”

He didn’t reply to that. He turned to Marco instead. “So, Marco! Come on, let’s see what I brought you. I’m sure you’ll love this.”

He handed Marco bag after bag with toys, new shoes, t-shirts, and even a superhero costume. Marco squealed with joy and threw himself into Mr. Griffin’s legs. Then, without fanfare, Mr. Griffin turned to me and held out two heavy bags.

“These are for you,” he said coldly, but I noticed the lovely spark again.

I was speechless. I felt like Mr. Griffin cared about me. I smiled at him, struggling to hold my tears back as I checked inside the bags. First, I saw a velvet jewelry box containing a silver necklace with ten tiny stones, one for each baby. A designer silk robe in my favorite color, big enough to fit over my rounded body. A bottle of expensive lotion for stretch marks. A luxury designer perfume. And a smartwatch that I knew I couldn’t afford.

I blinked back tears. “Why do you keep doing this?” I asked softly, trying not to let Marco hear. “After what I’ve done.”

He didn’t look at me. But I saw him swallow hard like he was trying to mask his emotions. “Because I care about you. Even if you didn’t care about me.”

That broke something in me. I cried again, clutching the gifts, hiding my face. Mr. Griffin didn’t stop me. He only leaned forward, kissed the top of my belly, and stood.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he said.

I watched him go, feeling desperate to follow him. But my belly wouldn’t allow me to move that easily. I didn’t know what to tell him either, so I stayed on the couch. Meanwhile, Marco danced around me with his new toys, and I smiled at him, wiping my eyes. He asked me about the other, and we checked. I found many onesies, bibs, pacifiers, a custom swaddle, and tiny hats. Mr. Griffin had thought of everything. I couldn’t help but cry again.

Mr. Griffin was hurt. But he still loved me, maybe not in words, but in every action. And I didn’t know what to do with that because I still loved Greg. Everything was complicated. I was too full and hormonal to make a decision. I was too stretched in every direction—physically and emotionally. And I had no idea how I was going to make it through the next day.

But for now, I held Marco close, let him press his ear against my belly again, and whispered, “They’re almost here. Just a little longer, and we’ll meet them.”

I was anxious. But something changed the following morning. It was Sunday, so Mr. Griffin stayed home and suddenly became my full-time caregiver. At first, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was so used to being alone—the silence, the guilt, the weight of everything crashing down on me—that having him there made me flustered.

He brought me breakfast in bed, perfectly arranged on a tray. Pancakes with fruit, my favorite juice, even a little flower in a tiny vase he must’ve plucked from somewhere in the penthouse. He gently helped me sit up, tucking pillows behind my back and under my sides. He didn’t comment when I grunted or whimpered from the pressure in my lower back. He just rubbed it slowly and patiently as I ate.

He didn’t leave my side throughout the day. He made sure I took all my vitamins, massaged my swollen ankles, and adjusted the curtains so the light wouldn’t bother me. He helped me shuffle to the bathroom when I needed to pee for the tenth time that morning, held my hands as I waddled back to bed, and even helped me change into fresh clothes when I spilled juice on myself because I couldn’t see past my belly anymore.

Every time he touched me, I felt my heart break a little more. He was too good. Too kind. I didn’t deserve it, but I let him do all of it because it felt wonderful.

By afternoon, we were curled on the couch again. Mr. Griffin read to Marco, who was snuggled in his lap, while I sat beside them, rubbing my belly because I felt an odd pressure within. When Marco went to his room to look for a toy, Mr. Griffin turned to me and smiled.

“Do you need anything?” he said, with such a gentle voice that I almost melted.

I shook my head, biting my lip. My hormones were already bubbling to the surface. He reached out anyway, slowly, and rubbed over my belly. The babies kicked under his hand.

“I guess they’re excited about coming out soon,” he whispered, and I nodded.

By evening, he helped me back into bed. I was so round and unsteady that I couldn’t lower myself without grunting like a stuck animal. He helped ease me down, adjusting my pillows again and then leaned over me. He kissed my belly. Then my chest. Then, finally, my lips. My whole body trembled, and my hands instinctively caressed his body.

Then, I broke the kiss, breathless. “Why are you being so good to me?” I asked.

He cupped my face and kissed my lips again. “Because I care about you, Adam. I really do. It’s not only about the babies anymore.”

I started crying again. Mr. Griffin didn’t pull away. He kissed me again and rubbed my belly while I cried, spreading his hand across the taut curve of my skin like he was trying to calm the babies inside along with me. My breathing hitched, and I felt like my body was about to explode. But his touch made me feel safe.

Then I felt his lips brushing the underside of my jaw, then lower. His hands moved gently down the sides of my belly so carefully that it made me tremble. He shifted beside me, and I leaned back automatically. It was an instinctual reaction because I needed him. I spread my legs, inviting him to take me. The shorts I wore barely survived that position, but as he positioned himself between my legs, I knew they wouldn’t be a problem for long.

He kept kissing my belly as his hands slipped under the waistband of my shorts and started to ease them down, exposing more of my overheated skin. I arched slightly as he undressed me. My hormones were over the roof, and I felt my hole squirming in need. I felt my cock throbbing against my lower belly. Every inch of my body begged for his touch. I needed his cock. I needed to feel him inside me.

“Please,” I whispered, barely able to stand the desperate need bubbling inside me.

He smiled and removed his clothes, immediately brushing his cock against the sensitive spot between my legs. When he kissed me again, I felt safe and loved. Even if I didn’t deserve it. Then I felt his cock entering me slowly and passionately, and I felt whole. I felt like I belonged there, beneath that powerful and loving man. The problem was that no matter how much I wanted to be with Mr. Griffin, I still needed Greg.

That night was magic. He fucked me so passionately and intensely that I didn’t want that moment to end. I moaned so loud that I feared I would wake Marco up, but I couldn’t help it. It was too good. It was one of the best nights I had ever had.

However, I woke up to pain the following morning, December 18th. It wasn’t the usual stretching and cramping I’d grown used to over the last few months. It was sharper, deeper, and somehow more urgent—an intense pressure spread across the underside of my belly, locking up my breath. I gasped, gripping the edge of the mattress and groaning. My abdomen clenched like it was trying to fold in on itself. And then it passed as quickly as it came.

I felt relieved when the pain subsided, but I knew it was the beginning of labor. I stayed still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling as my heart pounded. The babies had gone wild inside me—twisting, pressing, kicking. The sextuplets protested the start of their final descent, and the quadruplets responded to their brothers’ kicking. It was a whole storm.

Something about that felt too real, and it scared me. I lay back, massaging the taut mound of my belly with both hands, feeling how tight it had become. I was terrified.

A while later, I heard the door opening, and Marco came running in, already dressed in his school uniform, more energetic than most days. “Morning, Daddy,” he said.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, wincing as I tried to shift up against the headboard. “How did you get dressed so early?”

Mr. Griffin appeared at the door, carrying a tray. “I helped him,” he said. “We let you sleep in. You looked like you needed it. It was a long night.”

My heart softened. “Thank you so much.”

Mr. Griffin smiled and approached to set the tray beside me on the bed. Eggs, toast, fruit, and juice—everything arranged how I liked it. He leaned down, kissed my belly, and then kissed my lips. I could barely resist the urge to spread my legs for him again, but I knew it wasn’t a good moment because Marco was there.

“I’ll take Marco to school. And I have a surprise for you when I come back,” he said against my lips as his hands moved over my milk-filled tits.

Meanwhile, Marco leaned in, hugging my belly. “Bye, babies! I’ll be back after school!” he said, kissing my bump.

They left, and the room fell into silence again. I exhaled slowly, picking at my toast, trying not to overthink the cramp from earlier. I placed a hand over my belly, which felt heavier and tighter than usual, and rubbed circles across the surface. My mind wandered. Everything felt so good. Mr. Griffin was sweeter than ever. I didn’t understand if it meant things were okay between us. I tried to focus on him and the fantastic night we had shared, but it wasn’t so simple.

Mr. Griffin was so good. It almost felt like before everything got complicated. But I knew things weren’t the same. My feelings had changed. They had deepened, complicating themselves into knots. And I still loved Greg. The guilt of that clung to me like another layer of weight. I couldn’t believe I had gone from a quiet, single parent to carrying ten babies for my boss, torn between two incredible men.

I laughed softly, looking down at my belly. “Your daddy’s crazy. But he loves you all so much. If you let me decide, you’ll grow up in a big, happy family,” I said, rubbing my belly and focusing on the happiest parts of the extraordinary journey of the last few months.

Some time passed, and I got too hot and uncomfortable even with the air conditioner working perfectly. Before long, I was sprawled in bed, completely nude, feeling the babies push lower and move harder but slower. It was like they knew something was about to happen.

Then, the door opened, and Mr. Griffin walked in. I instinctively spread my legs, inviting him to fuck me again. But after he entered with a playful smile, I saw Greg following him into the room. My heart leaped into my throat. I yanked at the covers, trying to hide my body, but it was useless. It wasn’t easy to cover such a rounded form.

“Surprise,” Mr. Griffin said. “Adam, don’t bother. We’ve both seen everything already. I know he came here while I was away. I know you had lots of fun. And last night was incredible. You have nothing to hide from us.”

Greg looked pale and awkward, but there was a spark in his eyes.

“I… what… What’s happening?” I managed to say. “How do you know he was here?”

“Cameras,” Mr. Griffin said smoothly, approaching the bed. “I won’t lie. When I first saw the video, I was furious. But then I realized something.” He sat beside me on the bed, moving one hand to caress my belly and smiling at me. “I can’t force you to love me. If you love him, you love him. And I’m okay with it.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Mr. Griffin, I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” Mr. Griffin said. “Because despite everything, I’m thankful. Thankful that you carried my children. You did something no one else could. You made ten beautiful lives possible. I wanted two or three, and now I’ll soon have ten boys.”

I started crying again, touched by how sad he sounded. I could see the tears in his eyes even when he tried to mask them and act as strong and cold as always.

“I’m going to fulfill my part of the contract. Adam, you’ll get everything I promised. But more than that, I’ll cover Marco’s expenses until he graduates college. I’ll pay for everything he needs like he’s my son. He won’t have to worry about money ever.”

I started crying again, overwhelmed by what Mr. Griffin was saying and how he said it so sweetly and firmly. But the speech wasn’t over.

“You’ll get a place to live and a better job. And you—” Mr. Griffin pointed at Greg, “—you’re going to school. I’ll pay for it. You’ll work for one of my companies when you graduate. If you want to make Adam happy, you better work hard to give him the life he deserves.”

Greg looked stunned. He was probably expecting another reaction from Mr. Griffin.

“You both deserve a safe life. But you have to earn it,” he said, leaning in to kiss my belly. “So, after these babies are born, I’ll move aside and let you live your love story. I’ll still help you with some things, but I won’t be an obstacle for you to love each other openly.”

He stood like he was going to leave, but I reached for his wrist.

“Don’t go,” I whispered. “I can’t live without you.”

Mr. Griffin turned as I pulled him enough to kiss his lips long and passionately. I had no words to describe how much I loved him. I couldn’t find the words to tell him how much I needed him. But I knew that kiss expressed everything more deeply than words could.

Then I reached for Greg’s hand and pulled him into a kiss, too. They looked into each other’s eyes between kisses and nodded. I immediately knew my heart didn’t have to split anymore. I realized that what I had longed for so long had finally happened. I had the two men I loved so much. They were mine, and I was theirs.

Their hands moved over the globe of my belly, which was trembling again with another tightening wave. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, I spread my legs for them as my hormones skyrocketed and my horniness led my actions.

“Are you sure you can handle us?” Mr. Griffin said, quickly removing his pants.

“What? Are you for real? Like… we…” Greg said, shocked, but also removed his pants.

“You can do whatever you want. I’m willing to take you both because I love you both,” I said, barely able to stand my arousal and ready to test the limits of my body, only to feel their massive cocks filling me up like never before. It was all I needed.

...

********

[Previous] | [●] | [Next🔜]