Then, Tina had gone stale and traditional, wanting a private relationship with a man and locking Naomi out. They rarely had fun anymore. Now, it required some magical stupid app to get into Tina’s panties. But, Naomi loved both ways, and since both of them were free now … why not?
Naomi felt up his muscular shoulders as he pushed his hand into her shorts, touching her slick honeypot. It had been wet for the last fifteen minutes, brought on by flashes of a naked Brock in her thoughts with his fat cock sticking out, erect and waiting for her mouth or pussy—or both! Naomi hadn’t decided yet. She wasn’t one for planning sex out. It was all about the moment, whatever took her attention, or what her partner was willing to do.
Having Brock’s hand down the front of her underwear was pretty fucking good. And, like most men, he didn’t turn down an opportunity to stick his dick in something tight and wet.
“I thought you were here to scold me. You and Tina,” he told her, the fingers working quicker now.
Naomi stifled a moan. “She’s not here. It’s just me and you.”
“I saw.”
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “She hogged you up way too much. I want you to have your way with me. Treat me like a slut, because I am. Like, I so want your cock right now.”
“Will this work as the appetizer?”
Naomi quivered as a finger slipped inside of her pussy. Unlike hers, Brock’s fingers were thick and long, and one was enough to cause her legs to tremble. And her pussy was tighter now that she wasn’t pregnant. She had forgotten about that. The Preg App’s changes hadn’t lasted for long, but Naomi was almost used to having a big belly and boobs full of milk. In fact, when she shot a hand to one of her breasts and pinched the nipple, she almost anticipated milk to come spraying out. Brock surely would’ve freaked out if that had happened, receiving a face full of the stuff. Naomi laughed at the image in her head.
Once Brock was comfortable with his ex-girlfriend’s best friend seducing him, they made their way to the bed, discarding their clothes along the way. Now fully naked, Naomi took the next step, licking his sturdy fingers clean—and tasting her own sweet juices—before kneeling down and facing his maleness. Whenever there was a cock within her sights, she always felt an emptiness in her mouth and throat, like a hunger of sorts. Her jaw slowly dropped, and air rushed in, drying out her tongue and lips. She took him right away, not wasting time for more words to be uttered. The seven-inch-long prick went straight for the back of her throat, throbbing like nothing else, expanding to fit the O-shape of her lips perfectly.
“Oh shit,” Brock panted, exhaling hard. “Tina never did that enough. And she wasn’t all that good. Don’t tell her I said that, okay?”
Naomi pulled back after deep-throating him for the first time, wiping the slobber off her lips. “What? You think I’d tell my best friend that I fucked you?” She giggled. “I wouldn’t be very good at this then.”
“Okay, good.”
“Relax. You’re too worried. Nothing’s gonna happen because of this.”
That seemed to put him at ease, and Naomi returned to the job at hand, swallowing his thick male member and fondling his nuts. She loved that he kept them hairless and smooth. Most guys never bothered to trim things down below. She handled them in her dainty palm, rolling them around and squeezing them slightly. Brock groaned. Pre-cum touched her tongue, and she gobbled it all down, approving of the salty taste. It wasn’t sweet milk, but it was still good.
After coating his manhood in several layers of saliva, she rode him on the bed, facing him with her hands on his rock-solid chest. His fat cock went deep into her tight little pussy, stretching her wide.
“Oh baby! Yeah, that’s the stuff! Fuck that little pussy of mine!”
Naomi tried to reason with herself—between the plentiful moans and squeals of pleasure—about why she was fucking Brock. There was no need for it, and the world was full of men who would fuck her if she asked for it. But, Brock was Tina’s man—or was. He was on the market again. Sure, he was an asshole, but he had a juicy, thick cock, and Naomi loved having it inside of her.
Above all, Naomi just loved sex.
After several minutes of bouncing up and down on his cock, Naomi collapsed against him, her body perspiring from head to toe. She thrust her pelvis a few more times, humping her wet cunt on that stiff rod, having it fill her hole each time. It throbbed inside of her, twitching with life. He had to be close. Naomi had made sure to give it her all, to coax that abundant cum out of his body and into hers.
When the time came, he grabbed her by the shoulders, urging her to stop.
“How about you hop off and suck me dry?”
Naomi grinned. “That’s nice, but I want it all inside of me. Every drop.”
“I don’t have a condom on, and you saw—”
“No worries! I’m on the pill, sweet stuff. You ain’t getting me pregnant.”
Brock still wasn’t sure. “I don’t want to risk that.”
Naomi pouted and pushed herself up again, pinning his arms to the bed. “Oh, come on. Here, let me help you decide.”
With a glint in her eye, Naomi gyrated her pelvis, slow at first, but rapidly increasing the pace. Her hips moved sensually, swirling the thick cock inside of her pussy, the inner walls gripping the head more than ever.
Sensing what she was up to, Brock grabbed her hips to remove her, but Naomi remained.
“Trust me,” she said. “I’m not getting pregnant.”
Whatever choice Brock had made, it didn’t matter. His whole body appeared to tense up, and Naomi felt the result of her efforts exploding into her pussy. Her entire body writhed when it came, each powerful spurt shooting deep inside of her, one right after the other, filling her with his hot seed.
She collapsed against him again, kissing him long and deep. Her body moved slowly back and forth as the last bits of release came, dribbling into her entrance. The rest of it began trickling out, oozing between the inner walls of her pussy and the shaft of his cock. A pleasant warmth swelled in her belly. Naomi knew she was responsible for his orgasm, and she loved looking at the bliss on his face. She had totally emptied him!
Sometime later, when Brock had dozed off—like every guy after an orgasm—Naomi slipped off the bed and found her shorts on the carpet, in the middle of a long trail of clothes leading from the door to the bedroom. Inside she found a phone.
It was Tina’s.
“Nice,” Naomi whispered to herself, bringing up the Preg App. She had tried using it back at her friend’s place, but it wouldn’t work. Even when they attempted using a photo from the gallery—Tina hadn’t erased the pictures of Brock yet—the app wouldn’t accept it. It had to do with not being in range, or whatever. Naomi couldn’t remember. Whatever the case, an error message had popped up, and they couldn’t use it.
Now, the app appeared to be fully functional again, and Naomi snapped a photo of the sleeping Brock, making sure to get him entirely in the frame. As before, it placed the photo in the top-right corner, spitting out stats about his weight and waist size.
WEIGHT: 172 LBS. WAIST: 33.6 IN.
And, all the options were available to use. Naomi couldn’t believe it! Everything was there as if she had taken a picture of a girl, from the week of pregnancy and the number of babies inside the womb, to those weird awareness options again. It was all right at her fingertips.
With the room beginning to darken as the sun set outside—and Naomi’s face glowing with the light coming off the phone’s screen—she stared at the unwilling victim on the bed, remembering how he had knocked up Tina and left her like that. The baby was his; he just didn’t want the responsibility of being a father. He might’ve been a good fuck, but he needed to pay for that.
Naomi had already seen what WEEK OF PREGNANCY could do. This time, she focused on RATE OF PREGNANCY. Neither her nor Tina had touched that option yet, but she had a faint idea of what might happen.
In the drop-down menu, the
choices went from “1x” all the way up to “10,000x,” the latter implying that the rate of pregnancy would be ten-thousand times faster than normal. Figuring out how long that’d actually be was too complex for Naomi to work out in her head, but it had to be pretty darn fast! There were roughly two-hundred and eighty days during a normal pregnancy, so it was easily less than a day. Maybe it was less than an hour! There was one way to find out.
Naomi set the RATE OF PREGNANCY to the highest option available. Beyond expectation, the Preg App didn’t beep at her or spit out some silly error message. It accepted the command.
Nothing appeared to happen right away. Naomi checked the app again to make sure RATE OF PREGNANCY was on the highest possible value, and it was. Brock’s photo was still in the upper right corner. That hadn’t changed either. His weight was one-hundred and seventy-three pounds, and—
—it just changed to one-hundred and seventy-four.
Naomi covered her mouth, hiding her joy. His weight was going up! It wasn’t a blistering pace, but it was something! One-seventy-five now, and then one-seventy-six. Every thirty seconds or so, it would go up by one pound. The circumference of his waist was changing too—increasing in increments of tenths of an inch. It passed thirty-four and continued to climb.
Visually, there wasn’t much to see yet. Naomi quietly removed all the sheets, leaving him totally naked. He was on his back, so the pregnancy would’ve been totally obvious. There might’ve been a slight swell there already, but she wasn’t sure. Even at a rate of ten-thousand times the normal pace, it wasn’t lightning-fast. Naomi wished she could make the value higher.
For several minutes, Naomi stood at the edge of the bed, watching with eyes like an eagle’s. Sure enough, Brock’s abdomen began to swell, taking on the curve of a pregnant woman’s. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, for it seemed impossible for such a thing to happen. Women were supposed to get pregnant, not men. Yet, the Preg App didn’t discriminate. Any subject’s body could be influenced by the commands on screen.
Brock continued to snooze as his belly expanded to a size larger than Tina’s, and then to three months along, and four not long after that. Naomi followed along with the phone, watching the value underneath WEEK OF PREGNANCY change in real-time, increasing from 17 to 18, and then 19.
Likewise, the measurements for his weight and waist continued to increase, too.
WEIGHT: 191 LBS. WAIST: 39.9 IN.
Oh, he’s getting really big, Naomi thought. She couldn’t decide on what to watch. One minute, her eyes were all over Brock’s naked body, eyeing that telltale swell of his midsection, which seemed to have no limit to how big it was getting. The next, she was staring at the screen on the phone, disbelieving of what it was telling her.
And his belly continued to grow, and grow, and grow.
Sometime around the beginning of the eighth month, Brock started to stir. His abdomen was massive now, protruding like a small mountain from the rest of his body, curved and smooth with an outie belly button, exactly like any woman’s when she was pregnant. Naomi thought it to be the cutest thing.
The on-screen stats continued to change, and Naomi realized that was probably bad. Brock would have to be rushed to the hospital in the next fifteen minutes if she didn’t stop it! So, the RATE OF PREGNANCY was returned to “1x.” Naomi glanced at the stats.
WEIGHT: 210 LBS. WAIST: 46.3 IN.
“Naomi? Is that you over there?”
She froze. “Uh, yeah! I was just … you know … whatever … hey, are you feeling all right?”
Brock groaned. “I feel like I’ve been in a car accident.” He stifled a burp. “I shouldn’t have had that Mexican food.” He reached over for the light.
In those few seconds before the inevitable happened, Naomi couldn’t stop grinning. She wanted to see how he’d react, how he’d take suddenly waking up with a baby in his belly. And he was so far along, too! There was no hiding that waistline. He’d need new clothes if he ever wanted to go outside again, and he might have to. Naomi wasn’t going to turn him back that easily.
When the light popped on, time stood still. Brock stared at his belly, his mouth completely agape.
Naomi was positively giddy. “Congrats on the baby!”
Brock found his voice. “This is a dream … right? It’s a dream. It’s just a dream.”
“Nope! You’re an expecting mama now, buckaroo! Hey, I know it’s tough and all, but you’re really brave for going through with this. I can’t even imagine how hard it must be on your back.”
He was too astounded to say anything.
There were other changes—changes that Naomi hadn’t seen in the dark room. Brock’s massive pregnant belly was the most obvious of all, but he also had tits! They weren’t large enough to require more than a training bra, but they were there, with dark, fat nipples just like Naomi had seen on Tina and herself earlier in the afternoon. To support the growing life in his belly, the Preg App must’ve pumped him full of estrogen and whatever else came along during pregnancy. As a result, Brock had a bona fide pair of little boobies.
And his hips were definitely wider—the birthing kind, plump with fat.
Brock tentatively poked his belly with a finger. “I’m … I’m pregnant?”
Naomi turned off the phone. “Okay, look, before you go celebrating, or whatever it is men do when they find out they’re expecting, you should know that it isn’t permanent. There’s an app on Tina’s phone that makes it happen with magic, or something. I don’t even know how it works.”
“Yeah? Turn me back then. I don’t wanna be some fat pregnant woman.”
Naomi snorted. “Newsflash, Brock. You still have you’re dick. You’re not a woman. It’s just smaller.”
There was still a temporary flash of horror on Brock’s face as he reached between his legs—bending his arm around his swollen belly—as if he didn’t believe her. It was definitely there, but the size wouldn’t be impressing any ladies in the near future. Then again, there were some girls that preferred the small penis. It was a fetish, or something. Brock still had a chance with those.
“Change me back! This is horrible.”
Naomi shook her head. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”
“Yeah?” He ripped the phone right out of her hand, surprising Naomi. But, she wasn’t that stupid, and neither was Tina.
“Won’t work. It has a password.”
“I know the—”
“She changed it,” Naomi interrupted. “It might have something to do with what happened earlier today. Just a guess. She wasn’t too thrilled.”
Brock glared at her. He was doing his best to ignore the changes to his body, but Naomi could see the losing battle in his eyes. They were always flitting to it, the belly or the breasts, or some other part to make sure nothing was different. Besides the one finger inspecting it for the first time, he refused to touch it. It scared him. He couldn’t escape having a baby this time, for it was inside of his own body.
“But it’s a trick, right? There’s not really a baby inside of me. That’s impossible.”
Naomi just grinned. “I don’t know, Brock. Is there?”
On the way over to Brock’s place, Naomi had been thinking about the awareness options in the app. Tina and her had discussed them after they both returned to normal. The general consensus was that they had a mental effect. Unchecking SUBJECT AWARENESS would make the person being changed unaware that he or she was different than before. Likewise, WORLD AWARENESS would do the same thing, only to everyone else. Naomi thought that would be fun to try out. Potentially, no one else would know that Brock was not supposed to be pregnant!
Naomi grabbed the phone and brought up his profile again. WORLD AWARENESS was near the bottom, along with a new option: DELIVERY METHOD. She didn’t remember that being there before. In any case, she unchecked the appropriate box. The app auto-saved the profile as usual.
“Hey, what are you doing? You can’t make more changes!” Brock whined.
&nb
sp; Naomi raised a finger. “Remember, you have to play nice.”
He grabbed for the phone again, but Naomi was ready for him this time. She twisted out of reach and sprung off the bed, easily distancing herself. Brock was just too heavy and slow to put up much of a challenge, and the phone was safely turned off before he could try again.
“Hey now, I told you to play nice.”
“Screw you! Turn me back right now! This isn’t funny, Naomi.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi saw a piece of paper on his dresser, right next to her bra. It hadn’t been there before. She was sure of it. It was addressed to Brock from a Dr. Jenkins, and sent from a local health clinic in town. She scanned over the words, each more captivating than the rest. They reminded Brock of an upcoming appointment during the evening—tonight! Dr. Jenkins mentioned an ultrasound, and promised that the results would show Brock’s baby to be perfectly healthy.
Brock must’ve heard her giggling. “What?” he asked.
“Oh, you’re coming with me. Haven’t you heard? You’ve got an appointment for an ultrasound. Those are important! You can’t skip that.”
“An ultrasound for what?” Then, it hit him. “No fucking way. I’m not doing that! Where the hell did that come from?”
Naomi wiggled the phone. “Brock, do you want twins instead, or how about quadruplets? I can do that with this app. You’ll be so huge you can’t even walk straight!”
It all sounded unbelievable, especially to someone who hadn’t directly toyed with the app yet. But Brock seemed convinced. He had to be—his belly was anything but fake. With Tina’s phone in her possession, Naomi had all the leverage. There was nothing the guy could do except piss his ex-girlfriend and her best friend off even more. And Naomi was just begging to make him suffer a little more, but she needed something to threaten him with. Making him nine months along with octuplets would be fun, though. Soon, maybe.
For now, she wanted to see him survive going out in public. It would be a riot.
Brock thought Naomi was making all that ultrasound stuff up just to humiliate him—until he saw the letter for himself. Who the hell was Dr. Jenkins? He didn’t know of anyone by that name, or anything about an appointment. Apparently it was his third one, which the letter described as “atypical,” but just something to make sure the baby—his baby—was perfectly healthy, since he was an unusual case.
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