Stuffed PT. 2

Checking back in with Aaron, who's yet to have much luck giving birth...

Stuffed

By

Brimmingbelly04

Based on Pregnant, Stuffed, and Desperate for Labor

By moo9731 from Deviantart

Part Two

Early the next morning, Aaron made a call. Over the years, he'd developed various connections thanks to his job, one of which was with Emilio, the hunky owner of the Italian restaurant that catered station meetings and events. In the time since they'd met, Aaron had utilized the owner/chef's services outside of work several times, and in more ways than one…

The big Italian beefcake was one of the guys the knocked up news anchor hooked up with from time to time. Aaron and Emilio hadn't done so in a while, but it was possible one of their last "encounters" had resulted in the triplets. The two had yet to discuss the possibility and aside from on TV, Emilio hadn't seen Aaron since he'd started to show.

Aaron would be the first to admit it was true that the camera added ten pounds. What was also true was that having added more than seventy since the start of his pregnancy, plus ten more of pizza and a gallon of Rocky Road the night before, Emilio was in for quite the surprise. As such, Aaron was purposely light on the details when he called to make his request.

After apologizing for the short notice, he asked if the restaurant's private room was available and if Emilio would be able to quickly put something together for a small group? The hunky chef asked if anyone had any special requests, to which Aaron replied they did not since the triplets weren't craving anything at the moment. He happily left the menu up to his maybe babies-daddy since whatever Emilio made was always delicious. It was also almost always rich and fattening, which typically dissuaded Aaron from eating too much of it, but not now. Now, rich and fattening were just what he needed.

The last minute request turned out to be just what Emilio needed as well. A private party had canceled on him the day before, after he was already almost done cooking, so he had plenty of already made food he needed to get rid of. Aside from private events, the restaurant was closed on Wednesdays as well as Thursday mornings, to give Emilio and his staff time off. Happy to prevent a loss, Emilio agreed to open for Aaron and his "group."

Once he arrived, after hauling himself from behind the wheel and adjusting his shirt so he wouldn't enter the restaurant showing too much, too soon, Aaron smiled. Despite having repeatedly used the bathroom, he was still incredibly full from the day before, not to mention disappointed that he hadn't gotten the immediate result he'd been hoping for. But with enough food for several people waiting on him, he remained determined. It might not've worked yet, but Aaron still planned on stuffing the triplets right out of him.

"Holy fuckin' shit!" Emilio exclaimed as he looked up from behind the host stand he'd been leaning on as he waited for Aaron. As he took in the sight of his sometime-hookup, his big brown eyes got even bigger.

"What?" Aaron replied with a casual shrug as his nose was pleasantly assaulted by several wonderful aromas.

"What?!" The restaurant owner repeated just as loud as he eyed him up and down. "You're kidding, right?!"

"I know I'm a little bigger than the last time I saw you, but that's no way to talk to one of your most special customers…" Aaron chided as he framed the lower hemisphere of his belly with his hands and forearms, making the massive, now lower orb look all the more massive.

"A little?!" Emilio scoffed before clearing his throat. "Sorry. I just… Uh…" he passed to clear it again. "So what's the deal? Last minute baby shower?" He guessed, which given the sight before him, was just as good as any.

Aaron shook his head. "Not exactly."

"You said one o'clock, right?"

"I did," he nodded.

Emilio checked his watch. "It's 1:15 and you're the first to arrive. You didn't tell me how many people so I went ahead and made enough for six. If that's too much or not enough, I can…"

Emilio's portions were always generous. The thought of consuming six of them was daunting but it had to do the trick. "That should be perfect," he replied. "There might be some leftovers…" he decided to allow. "But Italian always tastes better later."

"Very true," the chef smirked and nodded as he stepped from behind the stand. "So do you wanna wait for everyone here or head back to the room?"

Aaron chuckled. "There isn't anyone else coming," he finally came clean.

"Come again?" His maybe babies-daddy frowned.

"It's just me. Us, I mean," he smiled as he patted his belly.

Emilio's frown deepened. "Just you? But you just told me food for six would be…"

"I know what I said."

"Fine. But if it's just you, uh… You…"

"Party of four…"

"Yeah, sure..? But really, it's just you," Emilio insisted. "I don't know a whole lot about pregnancy, but isn't the whole eating for two, or in your case, four, not actually true?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not," Aaron confirmed.

"So I'm confused."

"And we're hungry," he replied as he waddled by and started making his way towards the private room at the back of the restaurant.

For the next several seconds, Emilio just stood there and stared. He'd never seen anyone so pregnant before?! He'd known for a while that Aaron was pregnant with triplets and he'd seen him on TV as recently as a week ago, but neither came close to doing justice to what he was seeing now.

Since it was just the two (or five of them, maybe?) and they weren't expecting anyone else, Emilio went and locked the front door so no one else would enter the closed restaurant. Once he had, he quickly caught up with his fecund friend, who was slowly but surely navigating the maze of tables and chairs in the main dining room. As he did, Aaron explained his "idea."

It was so basic, Emilio didn't have a hard time understanding it. What he did have a hard time with was believing someone would willingly gorge themself into labor?! Knowing the triplets it already looked like Aaron was truly struggling to contain could be his, Emilio expressed his trepidation, which needless to say, wasn't well-received.

"I already paid you for your time and the food," Aaron reminded.

"Yes, you did. Thank you," Emilio said as having made it to the private dining room he "hurried" around his friend to pull out the chair at the head of the table for him. "But it's not the time or money that has me concerned. It's all the…"

"What does it matter to you if we, of!" Aaron grunted as he plopped his pregnancy-fattened ass down, the chair immediately, audibly protesting beneath him. "Are the ones to try and eat it all?"

"All?!" The chef/owner huffed. "There's no way you'll be able to eat it all! I made enough for…"

"Six."

"Six adults! And you know my servings are…"

"More than generous," Aaron finished for him. "Which is one of the reasons I thought of coming here. Now tell me, what's on the menu?"

"What isn't?!" Emilio huffed again. "Salad, minestrone, soup, my famous lasagna, my mom's slightly less famous chicken piccata, and eggplant parm."

"Everything sounds great, aside from the salad. Waste of space."

"Right… Oh and garlic bread too. Lots of it."

"Perfect."

"Is it actually though?" Emilio frowned as he noticed how stuffed Aaron already looked now that he was seated, his babies-filled belly and huge tits all piled in his lap, his thickened thighs not having much room to spread between the arms of the chair.

Aaron rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna help me, or do I need to find someone and somewhere else?"

"I mean…"

"It's really not that complicated, Emilio!" He huffed. "Serve me like you would any other customer, just don't stop till I tell you to! Pretend you're Olive Garden, got it?"

"I feel like there should be a waiver that both of us sign before I say yes, but yeah," Emilio confirmed before asking the question he really had to now… "So the babies… Are they…"

"Yours?"

He nodded, his strong brow burrowing low again over his big, brown, concern-filled eyes.

"You're in the running," Aaron shrugged as he raised his arms over his head, clasping his fingers together as he stretched, readying for another stuffing, this one promising to be a marathon session. "Do you want to be the one responsible for doing all this?" He asked, raising his brows as he lowered his arms and placed his hands atop his belly.

Emilio honestly didn't know? He'd always considered Aaron to be incredibly sexy, even now, which surprised him to no end considering he'd never previously looked at a pregnant man (let alone one so pregnant) in anything close to a desirable manner.

"Honestly? I, uh…" he shook his head. "I, um…" he tried again but still failed to complete his response.

"We really should've had this conversation a while ago, but we don't need to now," Aaron shook his head as he took his hands from his biggest swell, reached out to the table in front of it for his napkin, unfolded it and tucked it into the collar of his already constrictive yet massive t-shirt, just covering his overly ample chest. "I'll start with some soup, please," he announced, ready to "get to work." "And bread… Don't forget the bread."

"I wouldn't dare," Emilio replied, sounding less than enthusiastic or sure as he headed over to the table he'd set up buffet-style against the wall, thinking when he had that he'd be feeding a group, not just one person.

As Aaron waited for his first of what would go on to be many servings, he looked down and out at himself. Even after ridding his bloated body of all he could before heading to Emilio's, it remained a good deal bigger around the middle than it'd been at the start of the previous day. So much so, it looked like he'd added a fourth baby to his already overloaded uterus.

It'll go down… he assured himself. It's gonna have to go up before it does, but it'll be worth it, he promised himself again, wincing a little as the lowest baby seemed to wedge itself a little deeper between his aching hips. Thinking about anything other than how tremendously pregnant and stuffed he was and/or his plan to make the former no longer be the case, was all but impossible now, but he still had to be a polite and gracious guest…

"You're not so little freak out when you saw me made me forget to mention how good everything smells," Aaron said as he watched his hulking, potential baby-daddy generously fill a large bowl with minestrone.

"I genuinely hope you're not just trying to be nice…" Emilio chuckled as he carefully approached the table with the loaded bowl and set it down in front of Aaron. "'Cause there's a lot!"

"That's why I'm here," the pregnant man replied as he grabbed his spoon. "Don't forget the bread."

"I'd ask if you need more butter, but I'm fairly certain I already know the answer…" the chef said, shaking his head as he returned to the buffet for the garlic bread and additional butter.

Old-school, sterling silver soup spoon in hand, Aaron set to work. As he knew it would be, the soup was delicious. Making it better was the fact it was warm, but not hot, allowing him to rapidly consume his first bowl. Within fifteen minutes of being seated, the triplet-carrying anchor had already finished his third, along with six thick slices of additionally butter-lathered garlic bread.

"I'm ready to move on to the lasagna now, please," he requested as he pulled the napkin from his shirt and wiped at his slightly soup stained lips.

"Just so you know, there's still a lot of minestrone left," Emilio informed as he returned to the buffet. "But I'll take it off the heat and let it start to cool so you can bring it home with…"

"Keep it warm, please," Aaron cut in. "I'm gonna try to finish it before I leave."

"So this… plan of yours," Emilio said as he cut his only customer of the day a piece of lasagna that was twice the size of one he would've given anyone else. "In theory, it makes sense, but…"

"I know what I'm doing, Emilio," Aaron assured from the table.

"OK, but does your doctor?"

"No, he doesn't," he admitted. "But don't worry, like I said, I know what I'm doing. Now where's that…"

"It's right here," the restaurant owner said as he took the latest bowl Aaron had emptied and replaced it with a plate loaded with saucy, meaty, cheesy goodness.

"Keep 'em comin'," the triply pregnant man requested through a huge mouthful. If Emilio hadn't taken his hand away as fast as he had, there was a good chance Aaron would've stabbed it with his fork. He was on a mission, after all.

Two and a half huge servings of lasagna in, he started getting uncomfortable. Still continuously forcing more and more into his mouth with his right, Aaron moved his left hand to the side of his bulging belly and gently pressed against it. There was hardly any give… Aaron didn't know how much more he was going to be able to get into him, but he knew he had to keep going till he had to stop.

"I'll switch to the… chicken now…" he huffed out between bites and swallows as he somehow powered through the rest of the super rich and tasty pasta dish still in front of him.

Again, fundamentally, Emilio understood not only Aaron's plan but the reason behind it. But also again, he just couldn't believe he was actually going through with it?!

But you just ate two-thirds of a pan of lasagna, plus probably over a gallon of soup!"

"Believe me, I know…" Aaron groaned as he rubbed his belly a little harder, causing his shirt to hike up another inch.

He needed a break. His jaw, throat and stomach did too, that's for sure, but not yet… Aaron wanted (no, he really didn't) to finish half of all the chicken Emilio had made before he gave himself a chance to rest and maybe stretch his legs.

"Tell me when I've… eaten half the… the chicken," he huffed out between bites as he dug into his first plate of the poultry dish.

He really shouldn't have been, but Emilio remained shocked by Aaron's gluttonous determination. He didn't say anything, just nodded before turning and heading back to the buffet to start making his ridiculously pregnant, sometime-hookup and potentially, their three children, their next plate.

Back at the table, every bite Aaron took was getting harder, both mentally and physically, every swallow even more so. All this high-calorie, rich, dense and fattening food was making the hotdog eating contest he'd won with ease, seem like child's play. Speaking of winning, he remained now literally, painfully determined to win the contest he had going against his stubborn womb and cervix, and oversized brood.

"You ate half the chicken," Emilio mercifully informed some fifteen minutes later.

"Oh, thank God!" Aaron forcefully exhaled as he pushed the latest plate he'd all but licked clean away from him and leaned back heavily in his chair, causing it to creak some more.

"Please, tell me you're not totally insane and that you're…"

He nodded as he stifled a massive belch. "I'm taking a… a break."

"I was going to say, going to stop now," Emilio corrected as he watched Aaron rub the now wildly protruding sides of his enormous belly.

"I… wish!" He huffed before burping again, not bothering to try and cover his one. "But no," he shook his head. "Gotta keep… going."

"Is it working?"

He shook his head some more. "Not yet, but it will."

"Aaron…" Emilio began to cautiously protest. This was too damn crazy not to.

"No! Don't do that! It's going to!" Aaron insisted, more to himself than the man aiding in his marathon stuffing session.

On the subject of stuffed, he'd never been more so in his life, and yet he had to keep going. But if this worked, which Aaron kept telling himself it would because it simply had to, he'd never had to be so uncomfortably full again. He was ripped from his equally pained and disturbed thoughts by Emilio clearing his throat again.

"What?" He groaned, causing himself to burp again.

"Um, your shirt…"

"What about it?" He asked as he opened his eyes he hadn't even realized he'd closed and looked out at himself.

Right away, he saw what he assumed his maybe baby-daddy was referring to: stains. Aaron couldn't remember at what point, but somewhere along the line, he'd lost his napkin. He turned his head to the left and then looked down to see it laying on the floor, even more stained than his shirt.

"Sorry… I think I… ruined your napkin," he huffed out, really having to force air into his lungs, his midsection was just so cramped.

"Don't worry… Nothing a little bleach won't be able to handle," Emilio shrugged as he quickly and easily crouched down and picked the napkin up. "Your shirt on the other hand is probably ruined."

"You mean… my tent?" Aaron chuckled at his own expense, only to regret wasting the air. "It probably is," he nodded. "But this is the… last time I'll ever have to… wear it, thank God!" He rolled his eyes.

"Well then that's fortunate, but…" Emilio paused to clear his throat again. "I didn't mention your… tent because of the stains," he shook his head. "I mentioned it because it's um… It's ridden up. A lot," he nodded.

"Oh?" Aaron grunted as he tried but failed to sit back fully upright, the weight of his food and baby packed belly pressing down and back against him.

"What, um… What happened to your belly button?" His personal chef with benefits asked, now standing next to the table, a little in front of the news anchor and his incredible swell(s). "It used to be this cute, little outtie, but now it's… it's like gone?" He frowned.

"It's still there," Aaron grunted again as he smoothed his tent as best he could without bothering to try and adjust it. "First, it popped way out, then it just… couldn't keep up and kinda… stretched itself out to just about oblivion?" He shrugged. "I guess that's what happens when you're… this pregnant."

"Christ…" Emilio was the one to grunt this time. "Will it come back?"

"I hope so!" Aaron laughed. "And if it does, it better bring my abs back with it!"

"If I hadn't seen and felt 'em for myself back when you had them, now, I wouldn't believe you ever did!"

"Thanks, asshole…" he replied with another roll of his eyes as he gave up on fooling with his ruined shirt, seeing as there wasn't any point. "Help me up, will ya?" He requested as he held out his hands.

It took both men working hard together and a lot of combined effort to get Aaron back to his feet. Once he was, he let out a long, low groan as he steadied himself, left hand braced atop the table, right on the back of his chair. He felt (and looked) like he'd gained another twenty or so pounds while he'd been sitting, probably because he had!

"Are you… OK?" Emilio asked as he cautiously stepped back, ready to move back in and (further) assist if the answer was no.

"I… think so?" Aaron answered as he took his hand from the table and reached back to tug at the seat of his strained shorts.

They were an old pair from back in his college days. Following graduation, he wore them around the house or sometimes when he worked out since they were so comfy and stretchy, or used to be… Now, they were skin tight, and stuck not only to, but in his notably more generous as of late, ass. The fact he didn't have any underwear on definitely didn't help with the latter…

Aaron groaned in frustration when not even a second after pulling his shorts from his deep crack, they snapped right back in, the pregnancy (and food) fattened mounds, gobbling them right back up. Higher up, things weren't much better…

Despite being made of almost enough material to construct a Boy Scout pup tent, following part one of his second attempt to stuff his three babies right out of him, Aaron's shirt no longer came close to fully covering his pregnancy. As he stood there trying to get used to all the weight he'd so quickly added, how densely concentrated it was, and how it was affecting his balance, massive as it was, his shirt now left more than half of his belly out on display, the hem hitting just above his all but obliterated navel.

As he looked down and out again, Aaron belatedly noticed his nipples were both blatantly poking through this shirt despite the fact he was wearing a bra. Had Emilio had any other customers, they all definitely would've been staring at him, and not because of his local TV fame… At the moment, Aaron was leaving just about nothing to the imagination.

"Ooof!" He grunted then grimaced as he slowly straightened to as close to his full height as he now could, both hands shooting down and back to brace his aching, deeply arched lower back.

He didn't expect or mean to, especially not now that it had dropped, but while leaning back, Aaron managed to raise his belly high enough he was able to rest it on the table. Fortunately, Emilio had cleared the last plate he'd emptied away, otherwise it most certainly would've broken under the incredible weight of his pregnancy because the large and sturdy, solid wood dining table gave a low groan as his monstrous middle landed on it. As soon as it came to rest, Aaron sighed and closed his eyes, very happy to be temporarily relieved of some of the pain and pressure assailing him.

"What the fuck…" Emilio muttered under his breath, but unfortunately still loud enough for his only customer to hear, causing him to glower at him. "Sorry…"

"No, you're not."

"Well I am amazed."

"Don't you mean, horrified?"

"How 'bout, slightly disturbed?" He suggested with a chuckle. "Anyway, I'm amazed you hardly have any stretch marks!" He said as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Till last freakin' night, I didn't have any!" Aaron groaned as he shook his head too.

"You're kidding, right?!"

"If you somehow failed to notice, I'm not in the kidding mood… None of this is a joke, Emilio!" He shook his head again. "Believe me, I wish it was, but it isn't!" He groaned as he took his hands from his back and gingerly placed them on his now disturbingly bulging flanks.

Cautiously, Aaron explored the massive sphere, ever so gently applying pressure with just his fingertips. Months back when he started to show, he couldn't believe how big he already was, or how big he was going to get… Pregnant with triplets, the shock quickly wore off as he just kept getting bigger. It was back now, though…

Even though he knew it wouldn't do any good, Emilio felt the need to try to get Aaron to stop. "I really think you've had enough now… You ate enough to feed a family, and…"

"Yeah, but my family's still inside me, so no, I haven't!" Aaron huffed.

"But…"

"I have to keep going!" He insistently nodded, despite his pain and discomfort. "But first, I need to take a little… waddle. Care to join?" He asked Emilio with a forced smile.

"I feel like I should…" the chef grunted. "Where to?"

"Not far…" Aaron shook his head as he tottered forward, wincing at the added ache moving caused in his hips.

"Why don't we head out back?" Antonio suggested. "Get some fresh air."

"Isn't that where the… dumpsters are?" The pregnant man asked, already slightly panting.

As he slowly moved along, he could feel the weight of all the food pressing down on his uterus. He also thought he felt the head of the lowest baby pressing down on his cervix, the pressure there (like everywhere else) greater than ever before. Good, he thought. Progress… Finally!

"Trash got picked up this morning," Emilio said as he reached out and steered Aaron towards the back of the restaurant by putting gentle pressure on his bulging right hip, naturally making him turn left. "Shouldn't be bad now. Plus, there's a low retaining wall that runs behind the building that you could sit on if you need to."

"Is it… sturdy?"

"It's a brick and concrete retaining wall, Aaron…"

"That wasn't a… yes."

"It's sturdy," Emilio confirmed with a roll of his eyes as he stepped ahead and pushed and held open the door leading them into the kitchen.

"So this is where… the magic happens, huh?" Aaron asked as he looked around, cradling what he could of his low, now incredibly heavy belly to keep it from rocking too much.

"It is," the chef nodded.

"Ha… Whaddaya know…"

"What?"

"You have a soft serve machine," Aaron nodded at the equipment. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah. Kids love it. They get a free mini sundae with their meal but sometimes I use it to make some fancy flavors moms and dads would enjoy," the chef shared.

"What's in there now?"

"One side is just vanilla, the other is this chocolate hazelnut flavor I've been toying with."

"Is it any good?"

"I think so," Emilio nodded as he stepped ahead and opened the back door which led them outside. "I'll give you a bowl if you finish all your lunch," he teased before realizing his mistake.

Even though he was "helping" Aaron with his endeavor, he certainly wasn't encouraging him, nor did he mean to. Emilio couldn't believe how much the fecund anchor had already managed to cram into himself and genuinely worried that he might not get the result he was hoping for if he continued after his break.

"I'm just kidding!" He made sure to say once they were both outside behind the restaurant and he'd propped the door open.

"No…" Aaron shook his head as he turned to the left and started slowly lumbering in that direction. "I wanna… try it. Sounds… tasty," he nodded as he took his hands from his belly and braced them against his hips, his fingers curling over his fattened ass.

"I'll give you a… taste when we go back in."

"Just a… taste?"

"I think that's all you…"

"I think it's… starting to work," Aaron cut him off. "My plan… I feel… Yeah, like I'm about to explode!" He huffed. "But I feel… all the food pressing… down and the lowest baby… pressing down more too."

"That's… good, right?"

He nodded. "It's getting there," he said as he reached the end of the building and made a very slow and wide turn to start waddling back in the other direction.

Some fifteen minutes later, Aaron had waddled the width of the restaurant several times, leaving him profusely perspiring and gasping for breath. Leaning against the retaining wall he'd mentioned Emilio watched, impressed by his fecund friend's perseverance and amazed he kept going.

Even though he'd already soaked it through, Aaron used his shirt to wipe his dripping face. After the first few wipes, he stopped tugging it back down and left it bunched up beneath his bobbling breasts, fully exposing his gigantic belly which had turned a bright pink from all the heat and tension. Twice, Emilio suggested he take a break but both times, Aaron declined and kept on waddling, though he did eventually slow down (even more.)

Finally, he had enough. Strong and thick as they'd gotten over the previous months, the overly pregnant man's legs couldn't take anymore. Gasping, Aaron came to a ponderous stop in front of the door and leaned forward, trying to brace his hands on his knees but finding himself unable to reach. Fortunately, right before he toppled over, Emilio hurried him over and braced him by his shoulders, grunting as he took on a good deal of his oddly distributed weight.

"I… I'm… done…" Aaron panted.

"With everything?" Emilio cautiously asked, now expecting the answer to be yes, but of course it wasn't.

Aaron shook his head, sending some sweat flinging off his brow. "With my… break. I… I'm ready to… go back in and… have some more to… to eat."

"Aaron…"

"What?" He groaned loudly as he slowly straightened back up. "All that… waddling worked up… an appetite."

"Right…" Emilio replied, sounding less than convinced. "Let's get you back inside to cool off and have some water," he suggested, starting to move to help Aaron head back inside but he was waved off.

"I need a… a minute to… catch my breath," Aaron panted as he braced his lower back, thrusting his bared belly out even further. "And don't… bother with the… water," he shook his head. "Can't waste the… space."

While that last part was undeniably true, after all the sweating Aaron had done, Emilio disagreed. "I'm gonna go get you some and you can drink what you want," he said as he headed inside. "I'll leave the door open, just close it behind you."

After waving the chef off again, Justin looked down at himself. He was disgusted by what he saw. With his belly all out in the open, it looked even bigger than he'd just recently made it, especially since it was pink and dripping with sweat. His back, legs and hips were all aching and desperate for a break so slowly, he headed towards the door. When he reached it, he had to do some seriously careful finagling to open and go through it without bumping himself, worried if he did, he'd burst.

He expected to see Emilio in the kitchen, but he wasn't there. Aaron figured he was waiting for him back in the private room, so he slowly headed that way but then the soft serve machine caught his eye…

A cold glass of water sounded good, but again, he didn't want to waste what little room (if any) he had left in his stomach on water. Now that he was inside, he felt the AC but he still felt like a waddling furnace. Aaron thought about it for a second and realized some ice cream would kill two birds with one stone: it would help him cool off and fill up, so he waddled over to it.

Still so dazed and exhausted from everything, somehow Aaron forgot how much bigger he was. As such, he let out a loud grunt of surprise that was immediately followed by a massive belch as his belly collided with the cold, metal counter the soft serve machine sat on. After taking a step back, he turned his right and then took a few small side steps to his left till he was as close to the machine and counter as he could get.

Conveniently, there was a stack of small bowls next to the machine. Aaron grabbed one with his left hand and then placed it under the machine's right nozzle. He reached over his belly and breasts with his right, turned the nozzle and filled the bowl with the chocolate hazelnut soft serve Emilio had promised to let him "taste." Even if it ended up not tasting good, by then, Aaron didn't/wouldn't care… All he cared about was having something cold that would hopefully lower his bloated body to a more reasonable temperature while also continuing to stuff the triplets right out of him.

(First) bowl of soft serve in hand, Aaron looked for a spoon. He couldn't find any within immediate reach, making him groan in frustration. Couldn't something be easy for him?!

"Screw it…" he said as he raised the bowl towards his mouth, extended his tongue and licked the pointy tip he'd perfectly formed.

The ice cream was good. Better than, actually… It was so tasty that before he knew it, Aaron had inadvertently slumped down the whole bowl and was moaning as he licked it clean. More important than the soft serve tasting so good was the fact it was already cooling him off, starting of course at his mouth and throat.

The triplet-filled man didn't even give it a second thought when he refilled the bowl. He still didn't when he did so for a second time… Four bowls in, Aaron had finally stopped sweating though he did start to feel (very) full again, making him remember his goal…

As rich and creamy and nice and cold as the chef-made soft serve was, he wasn't going to make much progress if he didn't have a spoon to use and had to keep stopping to refill his stupid, little child-sized bowl…

"Screw it…" he said again as he set the four times emptied bowl down on the counter. "Go big or go home…" he sighed and shook his head before letting out a pained grunt as he slowly and awkwardly lowered himself to his knees.

If Aaron didn't stuff himself into labor today, he was going to go home, big, which he very much hoped wouldn't be the case…