Octavia the pony is sleeping, embraced from behind by her lover, Singsong. In the past, she would have been the big spoon, but recent events have made that impractical, leaving her hands resting on her gravid belly. The couple’s alarm clock begins ringing, the simple mechanical device dutifully banging its hammers until its owners deign to stop it. She was the first to wake, being the closest to it, and yet was utterly incapable of silencing the annoyance; although this was done purposefully, she still resented the decision in that moment. Octavia’s burdened womb stretched her abdomen out thrice the length needed for her arms to meet in the middle of it; it was because of this that she was the little spoon and they slept cramped on one side of the mattress, giving the rest of her the space it had needed to grow over the months.
Grumpy and unable to do much else than frown, a rump bump sent her beloved closer to the edge of the bed, and the sensation of slowly falling was enough for him to waken and steady himself. He sat up, yawning followed by stretching, and dutifully left the warm bed and contours of his mare to walk around and silence the contraption. Her eyes followed his path, envious of the free movement she’s lately been unable to enjoy. He broke the new silence in place as he knelt and the edge of the bed and talked to her, or rather her belly. “Hello babies, how did you sleep last night?”
She’d planned to tell him of how they had kept her awake for an hour last night, having shifted in place constantly in what she figured was a vain attempt at comfort, before she had been able to lull them to stillness with humming, all while he slept; before he could elicit this complaint, he elicited a grunt, as his arms snaked around her protrusion and he started peppering it with kisses.
The mare’s frown couldn’t withstand the onslaught of affection and she slowly started to giggle. Her lover peeked over her swell, pleased with himself, and started to walk back around the mattress. The seriousness of her new frown was ruined, but she still tried. “Come now love, I saw you grinnin’ at me. You know you can’ help it.” He pecked her on the cheek before reminding her “I love you, and I love our family.” earning another smile.
Kneeling next to her and placing an arm underneath her side, they worked together to bring the mare to her knees on the mattress, her belly still lay out very snugly over much of it. Octavia took her time adjusting, in her drowsiness, but she still heard when Singsong sung at her rear, “Can you hear me better from here, babies?” and she brushed her tail in his face.
He stood back up and started opening bedside dressers to get his and her undergarments, quickly slipping on his and setting hers on the bed for now. When she was ready, he helped her scoot to the edge and then picked up her underwear; she slowly lowered her left leg to the ground, allowing him to slip her into it, followed by the other. He brought them to cupping her motherly form, running his hands over the neck to ensure they wouldn’t slip, and ran his fingers along the lower insides to remove any wrinkling, among other things. Then he picked up the bra and she was more than capable of fitting it around her breasts on her own, but he still helped.
He wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands past her bosom on the crest of her womb, and hers followed. They both drank in the sight of their family for a minute or few. Finished, he stepped away to allow her leeway to finish getting out of bed. She stepped back until much of her belly filled the ether between her and the mattress, only the furthest third of her belly remained, she planted her hooves suitably spread apart, and swung the rest of her body off the mattress. Singsong was on standby in case she swung too far and lost her balance, but that didn’t occur this morning, and her sway slowly lost its back-and-forth momentum over time.
Out of bed and just barely clothed, they left for the kitchen, she followed. Wondering which way what wayward womb widened whilst waking, she was relieved to not yet have any trouble stepping through the door frame, although a little ways more and her childful sides would be grazing it; she hoped Singsong wouldn’t soon need to break the door frame with a hammer just so she could continue sleeping in their bed. Wondering what would result, she placed her hands on each side of her swell and tried to suck it in, but it wasn’t possible to tell it had even happened, and she reclaimed her breath, now knowing what would result.
Breakfast had been started by the time she entered. She didn’t yet have the energy to feel like she somehow wasn’t contributing enough to their household, even given her current state, and simply walked to the table to wait. Singsong had prepared a chair at the corner of the table, with another facing it from the opposing corner. Her paunch planted perfectly in that closest to her and she rotated about that so her plump posterior placed playfully in the other; she spread her legs, her belly fell between them, she shuffled about some, and then was pleased. Having that number two in her thoughts, two whole chairs needed to seat her comfortably, it had her thinking again just how large she’d become. She never expected such a big belly burden as what currently rested between her legs and between those chairs.
There wasn’t much to do while she waited, sans entertain such thoughts while slowly drumming her fingers on the taut dome. She snaked her right hand underneath her breast to scratch a deeper itch. Her thinking became morbid, as she realized there hadn’t been much movement for her to feel so far in the day. Both hands were then worriedly pressing in her belly in varied places to bring her brood to brawl. She was relieved to feel the kicking, but didn’t like to feel the kicking, and then worked to hum and rub smooth circles over her skin to calm them back down.
“You’re already fretting over our children like this, love. What are you going to do when they bring home dates?” He smirked as he walked over and set their breakfasts to the table, one plate holding his average breakfast of eggs, bagel, and hay hash and two holding her breakfast of many more eggs, bagel, jam toast, hay hash, and some cut fruit.
“Stop, I don’t want to even think about that for another decade or two.” He’d yet to seat himself, with his cheek facing her and expecting a quick kiss, but instead she slowly turned his head to face her and gave his lips one instead.
Vinyl the pony was sleeping, embraced from all sides by various pillows. Recent events had too made her previous accommodations impractical. Her alarm clock had begun its machinations several minutes prior, only recently bringing its owner to wakefulness mired in a desire to stay sleeping. She was still in the habit of trying to stop the alarm with her magic and return to her dreams, but this clock was fancier than normal and couldn’t be stopped by magic; worse yet, it wouldn’t stop ringing until it was either triggered physically or its own magic determined everypony in the immediate area was suitably wakened.
Vinyl too had a broad, bulging, burdening belly which prevented her from getting out of bed and silencing the alarm. She could for now only prop herself up from the side with an arm and miserably awaken so it would cease on its own. She used her other hand to rub the sleep from her eyes and scratch her belly as she wondered into cognizance, lazily using her magic to start moving pillows and allow for more movement. Eventually she could freely move, except for the massive weight growing inside of her centered on the mattress, and the alarm had stopped.
Her lopsided abdomen rose and fell with her breathing, and she took time to marvel at it. Her husband, Mellow Drone, was out touring, as Vinyl was in no state to; she understood they could use the extra bits, but it still had her left lonely. She was pulled out of these thoughts by the gurgling of her stomach disturbing her brood; she once again became cognizant of what she was looking at and feeling, and decided she couldn’t really be so lonely right now.
It was time to get out of bed, and being so preposterously-pregnant carried an advantage Vinyl had discovered for herself. She pushed herself up more and was now being propped by a hand and a knee; she leaned into her protrusive paunch and ever so slowly started sinking into it. Conservation of her mass was achieved by shifting and rearrangements filling her out from her sides. Eventually, she could use her other knee and hand to steady and hover herself over her belly until it finished its width-wise expansion. She stayed like that for a minute or two to enjoy when the weight would still be the burden of but the mattress and some skin. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself back and forth until she felt ready to push up and sit; while still very heavy, her belly was now a more manageable shape, at thrice her width. Her belly button had a downward angle, so she still couldn’t reach it, even like this, though.
She shouldn’t sit with her legs turned as they were, weighed down by her wideness, lest they start going numb underneath her, yet she didn’t want to start her movement off the mattress yet, because her children were understandably upset over being squished and shifted around. Vinyl liked the sensation, feeling so many little lives she was nurturing thrash inside of her, so she simply rested her arms on the top and waited for them to calm down on their own. Eventually, the thrashing could no longer be described as a futile jailbreak and was better suited to a tight nursery with some rolling over in their sleep.
She gave her tight belly a pat, making a noise not unlike a drum, and began scooting back leg-by-leg until she could lower one and then the other. She figured she should change her panties now or not at all, so she slid her fingers underneath the sweat-soaked fabric and after a few attempts had them off. With one hoof still standing in the pair, she bent it backwards to get it in hand. No, they didn’t smell good enough to continue wearing. She threw them over shoulder and used magic to fish for another pair in the dresser drawers, but realized she couldn’t find any. That pair was already dead to her for now, and if she weren’t wearing panties, a bra wouldn’t matter much either, so she decided she didn’t need any clothes at the moment. She’d clean some later.
Buck naked and not really alone, she started leaving for the kitchen. Belly bouncing, burgeoned broadness blocked normal passage through the door frame. Knowing how her contours curved, she knew she’d need to turn to her side and awkwardly sidestep through, being thankful today wasn’t the day her belly’s end would graze the other side and make even that an issue. She could always break the door frame if she needed to. She didn’t even try to change her belly’s shape further, knowing it would obstinately stay exactly the same size, but with the exercise making her lightheaded. She was lightheaded enough being what was really a one-unicorn blessing.
She reached the kitchen and picked a banana from the fruit bowl. Her trusty stool was already in its proper place by the stove, and she turned around to sit on it, one arm resting on the adjacent counter and the other draped over her belly holding the banana. She adjusted her rump until it was comfortable enough and then curved her back to gain more stability and allow the mass to rest over her legs as comfortably as it could. Her feminine features jutted out even more with this display, and from the front it wasn’t at all obvious she was entirely naked.
Magic unpeeled the banana, then lighting the fire and levitating other instruments and ingredients into position. So it was the unicorn munched on banana while watching her magic make her an omelette, seemingly disinterested but truly just tired still. Rather than setting the peel on the counter when she finished the banana, she lazily laid it on herself, leaving plenty of room for the now-free hand to scratch around it and elsewhere on the dome. Eventually, the arm too laid there, only moving to rub down a fresh bump into submission.
She was too lazy to move to the table to eat her omelette, but not too lazy to have her magic fetch a plate and utensils for it. She yawned. The plate was a little too hot for her to rest it on herself, so she used magic to keep it on the counter, and avoided contorting herself by having her head turned to accept bites from the levitated fork.
In far too little time, she was finished with eating her home-cooked meal, and would need to turn to something else if she wanted more without more effort. After two more bananas and a jar of apple jam on bread she hadn’t bothered to slice, she carefully stood herself upright and stretched, yawning again. She would’ve fallen asleep on the stool, if only she were able without falling off.
It was easier with Mellow Drone present. He’d be there to help her out of bed, to cook for her, to satisfy other hungers …
She felt only a little ashamed at how her longing for the father of her foals had so quickly turned into wanting to compose another frothy, salacious song with him, each using the other as instrument, as in those previous instances of carnal composing. She was so aroused she didn’t even find her musical descriptions silly. She waddled back to the bedroom’s door frame, spying a horn ring on her dresser, and levitated it into her grasp, then sitting at a nearby chair, comfortable enough for what she would be doing, but not so comfortable she’d have a hard time cleaning it afterwards. She squirmed in the chair until the weight on her thighs from her belly was reasonable, her rear was spread enough, and she could relax; her lubricant began coating the wood, making it ever easier for her to squirm around to her ends’ content.
She began channeling the particular spell through her head and, once it had reached a suitable level of cohesion, she placed the ring over and around her horn. The ring’s purpose was to help maintain the spell being cast even after she’d lost control, and it did this by preventing magic from draining back into the rest of her body, not unlike the other kind of horn ring. Before her was the apparition of Mellow Drone, the only part of him she was currently thinking of, anyway. She gave it thought, and so it slid between her thighs, losing shape to travel beneath her. The spell was convenient, as it allowed her to sit, with the spectral member gaining shape as it penetrated, and losing it again as necessary to retract, which spread a wonderful sensation between her behind and the board it rested upon.
She closed her eyes and imagined to her best ability she was somehow sitting in his lap, and gasped as she was penetrated. Her left hand started rubbing her dome, and her right grabbed right breast, to stimulate the nipple, and she could already feel a small amount of milk across her fur. It slid back out of her, and slowly stabbed at her again. Rather than ruining her fantasy, the odd sensation of being penetrated by a member with no body, sitting in a chair otherwise quite still, had her reaching her apex of arousal sooner than normal. In a way, and she didn’t like to think of it this way, it was better; she was getting all of the benefits, but she didn’t have to move at all, however she did still have to do all of the work, and she could only imagine his cries from previous times. He wouldn’t bite her either, oh how she wished he would though.
She was almost finished, her legs stretching out and moving on their own. Her gravid gyrations had resulted in her foals feeling their way around her fecund form, and she was hit by the thought this could be one of the last times she felt them so closely in her arousal like this. Characteristically, she orgasmed with whinnying, snorting with mouth shut, and a furrowed brow. Her eyes were tightly shut, but she would’ve otherwise seen her belly appear slightly smaller at the strong contractions of muscles she’d caused. She wondered if she were going to think of all of this sex and masturbation once she’d pushed her children out of her, or if it then just wouldn’t occur to her.
With the many the hormones running through and out of her, would anypony notice if she just didn’t bathe after this?
Husband and wife had finished breakfast and let their food settle over idle chitchat; she had plans to meet with her friend in town and he to continue work on the nursery. Soon enough it was time to deal with another burdening aspect of her burgeoning pregnancy, that need to exercise so she wouldn’t be left immobile and bedridden for longer than the last week or few. Her hearty, Earth pony frame easily enervated over evenings, leaving her exhausted by the end of her days, and regular exercising would continue to strengthen her in an attempt to outpace growth.
Jumping rope for a few minutes would be the first routine of the day. Earlier in her pregnancy she could easily do it by herself, but as she bloomed outward that became infeasible and more planning was required, along with a much longer rope. One end of the rope was tied to the wall in the same location from yesterday and so on and Singsong would control the other end. Usually the duo donned clothes suited to an exercise routine, and he’d slip into his in less than a minute, but she just couldn’t be bothered with it this morning; he could have more of a show than usual as far as she cared about modesty.
With naught else for them to do, hands held bosom to keep it from flying about as the rest of her was bound to. Once she was positioned, facing the wall, Singsong started the first rotation just fast enough to maintain proper motion of the rope, and she easily jumped entirely off the ground for that, jostling just a little. The pair continued, with Singsong trying to have the rope as low to the ground as possible each loop around. The building momentum of her baby blimp and heaving milk bags had her start to alternate legs, and this offset the instability only temporarily, as it went from up-and-down to a flopping side-to-side, with the rope stopping its rotations before it would hit either side of her. Just a few minutes of jumping rope left her sucking in air.
“Do you need me to?” he handed her a glass of lukewarm water and a towel, which she both generously used. “Would you, dear?” as she started dabbing around her bosom and neck.
Octavia’s lover walked around, trailing a hand as he went along, and squatted in front of her; perhaps getting closer with more of his body than he needed to, both hands firmly cupped the underside of his wife, and he lifted it up, allowing Octavia’s back to relax. Hearing his lover moan from the simple act allowed him to largely ignore the stress it put on his back and legs. “I never got to asking, how long did it take to get used to this?” With a hot-headed snort befitting an Earth pony, she told him “Maybe after I give birth I’ll be used to it.”
She closed her eyes, and other muscles slowly began to relax. She exhaled, able to easily adjust her standing, and drank the rest of the water. She opened her eyes to see him smiling widely at her, chin laid down the middle, and couldn’t help but reflect the smile. It was time to move forward in the routine, and she couldn’t escape her massive body yet; she stood back into a strong waddling pose and he gradually gave her back control.
She deeply inhaled and slowly squatted until her legs made acute angles. The frustration evident on her strained face, he offered to help her, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. The underside of her belly was flat against the floor. He still walked around in case she fell. She laboriously rose again to a standing position, out of breath, belly first lifting back off the ground, before becoming flush against the wood again when she spread her legs further and bent over to breathe. “I-I need to be able to get up on my own, for as long as I can manage it.”
She was sweaty. The foam on her bosom was outmatched by the foam across her belly. With the many the hormones running through, on, and out of her, anypony would notice if she just didn’t bathe after this. Bathing as a couple was one perk of having a lover, but at her size was also a necessary consequence of having a lover. She could clean everything that was where it had always been with reasonable added difficulty, so he only really needed to help with her pregnant protrusion poking past her reach out far in front of her, but she didn’t mind when he’d insist on helping elsewhere, and he always did. It was still embarrassing to watch him scrub her with a brush like he’d scrub a wagon, being the size of a wagon and all, but she banished the thought as she led him to the bathroom.
Octavia greeted the fresh outside air with clean fur in clean clothes. She backed herself out of the house, so she could leave Singsong to his work without also asking him to open the door for her; besides, it was safer this way, with ponies able to see the mare beforehand, rather than have her jutting herself into the unknown. Closing the door was still a problem, however, so she still had to awkwardly rotate herself without knocking over anything or anypony so she could back up to reach the doorknob and pull it.
Celestia’s sun was shining, ponies were out and about, there were no giant monsters out and about, and that and more made the village that would house her children so wonderful. She’d never doubted even once that she would birth them into a delightful world of ponies.
“Hey Octy!” There was an unmistakable white unicorn waving at her from across the market, carrying a foal-filled belly thrice her width. Both waddled towards each other to spare friend part of the trek, and Vinyl didn’t seem to care, but Octavia couldn’t help but notice the stares of the other ponies. They weren’t the only advanced pregnancies in the village, but they were currently, by far, the largest; they weren’t as large as members of the Apple family could get, but the only Apple mare in Ponyville had better things to do than strut around pregnant, for now. Still, locking eyes with some of the smaller mares, and noticing their envy, put a smug grin on Octavia’s face as she went to meet her friend.
Octavia understood that hugging others was complex, given her size; adding Vinyl’s shape and size made anything resembling a hug impossible, but she still occasionally tried, such as with this attempt. Even standing literally side-by-side, directly next to each other, was prevented by Vinyl’s unusual width on that day. She settled for standing perpendicularly to Octavia and wrapping an arm around her for a quick embrace, and even that was difficult; despite her own preposterously-pregnant state, it still felt odd to have Vinyl’s shoved into her side; perhaps this feeling were what other ponies felt around her.
Afterwards, they walked side-by-side, as well as they could, and began to browse the latest wares they saw.
A herd of fillies and colts ran through the forum, in-between the various stalls, some disappearing around a corner or alley as soon as they came in some kind of rambunctious game. The more astute were fully aware of the environment around them, albeit outnumbered by those less astute who weren’t. One of the less astute colts was paying attention to anywhere but directly in front of him, and ran into the apex of Octavia’s protruding belly, falling over with a yelp having fruitlessly tried grabbing onto something to prevent this. Octavia whinnied, and asked just who or what that had been, and the colt now lying on his side hadn’t known what had happened at first, seeing such a hugely pregnant mare so close for the first time, eclipsing everything but her legs, not that he’d even noticed those over her gigantic grey swell, and navel the size of his fist.
To his unnerving, a second, but wide and white belly approached him, and he was beginning to feel surrounded, but then he noticed the unicorn attached to that. She signalled to her side, and the grey mass swung slightly out of the way to give the colt a view of the Earth pony mare behind it. Now he only felt uncomfortable because two adults were staring at him and talking amongst themselves, mostly. He was struck out of his thoughts with a jolt when the white mare raised her voice and he realized he’d not been paying attention to what they were telling him. He nervously stood at their command, and waited for any further.
They whispered between themselves, and the uncertainty added to the dread of being physically overwhelmed; he couldn’t tell, but Octavia was blushing, and would’ve sent him on his way, had Vinyl not taken control of the matter. “Hey foal, you’ve got to pay attention to where you’re running off to. You could’ve hurt somepony.” She placed her hand on the side of Octavia’s abdomen, and kept talking despite Octavia’s growing embarrassment at the entire situation. “Do you know what’s in here? Well, do you?” She patted her hand for emphasis. He could guess, but was still far too timid to respond before she did.
“Foals are in here, a herd of ’em, and you’re lucky mares are blessed with so much padding to protect ’em.” He was too mortified to notice how mortified Octavia was. He swallowed at noticing he wasn’t standing in front of two mares, but at least a dozen ponies, a herd and a blessing in two. He had a few brothers and sisters born at the same time; had his mother looked like that, but with them inside of her? He’d seen plenty of pregnant ponies before, but had never given it this much thought. Just past the grey fur before him were newborns, no, not even that, preborns, or something. He struggled to visualize what that must look like on the inside. It made him feel weird.
“Really Vinyl, it’s okay. You can just use your magic to fix it.” Vinyl smirked. “I got a few more months before I start cleaning up foals’ messes. Now listen up, when you fell over, you yanked my friend’s pants down. That’s very rude, but I’ll let you off with a warning if you just fix it yourself, alright?” She motioned for him to come closer, and he did, walking inbetween the two. Contrary to his original mental image, the grey mare’s pants were still on, they just weren’t covering her belly all that much. Surely they didn’t expect him to walk between her legs and underneath her, right, right?
“J-Just grab what you can and do your best.” They looked tight in places, but there was an obvious void where the fabric didn’t hug anything, due to her shape. Slowly, his little hand grabbed the stretchy pants by the waistline at the point around her before they were obviously dishevelled, and his other grabbed beyond that to start pulling; he didn’t have a good enough grasp to do anything, however. He slowly got closer, looking back at the two mares for approval, with only the white one actually looking at him; the grey mare had her head turned, eyes closed, and was holding her hand closed in front of her mouth. With silent approval, he bent down and his hand reached underneath to grab the fabric at a better spot, and then he started pulling again. He was able to slowly make his way to her front, with the waistline getting taut beneath her belly button. Was he finished now? He waited.
“U-Um, would-would you smooth the fur out too, please?” Oh, that did look a little uncomfortable. He grabbed the waistline again, and pulled it away from her, to run his hand through, before letting it back down as he made his way around. The air trapped in there was so warm already. Then he was at her other side, just beyond her hips, but he suddenly didn’t want to leave just yet, so he still waited, with his hand resting between the fur and waistline. “Thank you. You can remove your hand now.” He felt bad about having left it there then.
“Um,” now it was his turn to finally speak, “I’ve heard foals move in their mothers. Is that true?” When she told him it was, he had one question: “M-May I feel it?”
She wasn’t prepared for that, and told him yes without thinking; realizing what she’d said had her tell him to wait for a moment. She was prepared to, thankfully and truthfully, tell him they weren’t active, but Vinyl noticed and butted in again. “Hey, foal, walk around to this side and you can feel mine. They’re kicking up a storm right now.”
Unlike Octavia’s pants, Vinyl’s outfit left none of her pregnancy to the imagination and, despite everything that had happened, the young colt found himself nervous about touching her, but Vinyl noticed and mocked this as well, pushing him into her bulging side with her magic. He couldn’t describe the feelings coursing through him in those moments, but he liked them. Vinyl pointed out so many things, he thought, but he wasn’t listening. He could feel the movement inside of her touch his hands, his chest, his cheek, and other places.
He became aware that he should be listening to her before she noticed he hadn’t been. “So you see what we mares have to put up with now, don’t you?” He did. “Good, now when you get back home, tell your mother you love her.” An “oh” was his only reply.
After longer than was decent, the same magic that had pushed him onto her pulled him away from her. He still stood there. Vinyl waved at him, “Well, run along now. Byebye.” He nervously repeated a farewell and ran off.
Vinyl turned to look at her friend. “I think he likes pregnant mares now, Octy.” Octavia was glad their very bodies had hidden most everything that had just happened from the other villagers. “V-Vinyl, you can’t just do that to a young colt!” Vinyl laughed, “What? It’s okay when mares do it to colts. He might want a big family some day, big deal.” To shift the topic a little, she added “It’s a good thing we’re not having more children after these are done in there.”
Octavia knew her friend was just changing the topic, but at least it was civil, and more relevant. “Why’s that, and we’re not?”
She looked at Octavia before she spoke. “Isn’t being this huge once in our lives good enough? Besides, there’s gotta be at least a few colts kicking around in here,” she put a single finger on her belly and pressed in deeply while she moved it around herself in a small circle, “and seeing mommy grow huge with their new siblings would do something to ’em. I’ve read about it before.”
“You read rags, Vinyl.” Octavia huffed, and Vinyl took her finger from poking herself to pointing and wagging at her friend for emphasis. “No, no it’s true. The bigger his family,” she ran her hands over her belly as sensually and as far as she could manage “the bigger he likes his mares. Mellow told me something about, uh, what was it? Right, about how hot it was that he’s the reason I’m so huge. Colt’s can’t help but think about where they came from, and I don’t blame ’em; I’m hot.”
“I’m ignoring you now.” She turned her nose at her and walked away, which is less impactful when neither of them could manage more than a few trots per minute.
The excitement from their trip so far, but mostly the laughter, had the overburdened unicorn snake her hands behind her belly and brace them against her thighs, bending over and gasping for breath inbetween laughs. Octavia wasn’t so concerned, she stole a glance and thought her friend looked fine, and grew a smirk as she observed her friends carefully cramped womb pour into its rightful shape with each heave. Slowly, the unicorn’s belly fell out of its unnaturally wide settling, with the unicorn unable to stop it, only able to shift her footing and try not to make too obscene of a face at the sensation; still exhausted, but not quite as much, she slowly pulled back up to be greeted by a belly poking several hooves in front of her, and only barely wider than she.
“Serves you right.”
The pair of mares continued their leisurely stroll through the marketplace, but now one of the pair wouldn’t stop complaining.
“This always screws with my back worse, I don’t know how you can stand it.” Vinyl groaned, with both arms behind her back to help her jut outwards, waddling worse than she’d been beforehand. “F-Fortunately, I know a trick to help take the load off us poor dams.” she pointed at an empty, unponied table in the bazaar, before walking up to it nonchalantly, bending over slightly, and heaving her belly up with a quick arch of her back, twisting to land it, covering one side of the simple four-legged table.
Octavia was surprised the table hadn’t broken from that, and surprised at herself for not chiding her sooner. “Vinyl, you can’t just use somepony else’s table like that!”
Vinyl grinned at her. “But I can, and it feels so good.” she emphasized that by spreading her hands over her bump and making a face. She gave Octavia her most sardonic face when she said “You should try it too, you’re bigger than me.”
Octavia looked around, and for once Vinyl wasn’t making a scene; nopony cared. She faced Vinyl again, and Vinyl wasn’t even smirking anymore, and instead had her eyes closed and a relaxed expression on her face. She could do it too. Should she do it too? The table still seemed to be fine. Her back was sore …
She sighed and approached the table. Being more gentle than Vinyl, she leaned back slightly as she came over the table, sliding herself onto it, and then sidestepped from that point until she was on the other side, facing her friend. Vinyl opened an eye, and grinned at her again. “So, doesn’t it feel good?”
Octavia had to admit to her that it did. “It’s even better than when my husband holds it for me,” she took a moment to sigh, “because I don’t have to worry about giving this table a break.” Vinyl asked her why she’d never done it in her house before, and chuckled at hearing “I was afraid I’d break the table if I did that.” Then they didn’t talk much after that.
Either mare was a perfect picture of contentment; neither mare noticed the table begin to buckle.
The table exploded, at each leg and at the same time; fortunately, the broken table fell flat on the ground and without particularly jagged wood amongst its ruined legs. Both mares felt a pop, and then gravity pulling their gravidities downwards. Octavia’s legs had been close together, but she managed to quickly move her hands to her back to heave herself and stumble backwards without knocking herself down or tripping over her tail. Even with better hoofing, her belly threatened to pull her down with it as it moved up-and-down wildly, just as when she had been jumping rope earlier. After a second or so of stark fear, she had her balance again, not quite squatting over the ruined table, while she watched her precious cargo now rock side-to-side more gently in front of her, nearly scraping the ground. Her heart pounded in her ears, her mouth felt dry, and her legs already ached, but she seemed to be fine in all the ways that mattered most to her. She was relieved beyond relief that her strong Earth pony body, and her exercising regimen, had allowed her to avoid disaster. Vinyl, with her lazier lifestyle and delicate unicorn form, had a harder time of it. The only reason she hadn’t fallen over completely is because she had involuntarily yanked herself backwards with a magical grip on her outfit, at least until it had ripped.
Her belly also moved up-and-down wildly, as she frantically turned herself in a vain attempt to avoid falling over. Fortunately, for her, she’d accidentally turned and pushed herself into the arms of a nearby stallion who managed to maintain a hold on her; she still flailed for several seconds and fell on her rear, but had avoided falling on any broken wood and wounding anything but her behind and her pride. The stallion very gently squatted to lower the rest of her to the Earth.
Everypony in the market was staring. Vinyl noticed her bosom was uncovered, but it obviously had nothing to do with the staring; plenty of ponies didn’t wear clothes; no, she was mostly upset about looking so vulnerable. Octavia stood there with her hands cupping her face, not crying, but damn sure wanting to be elsewhere.
“I’m so relieved nopony was hurt.” the stallion who had helped Vinyl chose his next words carefully, and spoke them with a kind voice, “Now, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but that was my table …”
The remainder of the day couldn’t really compare to the fiasco in the market. The two agreed to pay for the table, tried to do a little shopping, returned home; more meals were cooked, and conversations had, but then it was night. Soon they would dream, and perchance forget the most embarrassing parts of the day.
Octavia and Singsong were in their bedroom, getting themselves ready for sleep, when he gave her that look. There he was, lying on his side, admiring her. She thought him to be the height of masculinity; did he really see her as the height of femininity? Certainly, it was harder to be more feminine than when doing one of the things no stallion could ever do, but she saw the most unattractive aspects of it more than anything else; then she recalled what Vinyl had told her earlier in the day, and she kept that in mind while continuing to try to forget what had shortly followed.
“You’re admiring what you’ve done to me, love?” He twitched just a little, and she watched his penis stir in his sheath. “I suppose you do. Well, do you want to do this on the bed, or standing up?” She was surprised at hearing “Why not on the bed, but with you on top?”
It had been a while since they’d tried that position.
He well remembered the last time they’d done so: He’d lain on his back on the bed, propped up to watch her saunter over to him from the doorway, and he’d helped to hold and support her as she slowly lifted herself onto the bed, leg-by-leg and then inch-by-inch until he had himself thoroughly pinned underneath her weight, his vision dominated by her belly.
She was much larger now, so large that watching her walk across the room was still a show, but not as much of one as it had been; the sway of her hips was replaced by the sway of her middle; and, really, he couldn’t compare most of her body, because he simply couldn’t see it from where he was. After being asked whether he were certain about this or not, she cautiously continued; rather than holding her hand, as with last time, he found himself guiding her by holding her womb as she slid it over his body and then kept sliding it. He was completely pinned underneath her pregnancy, unable to see anything except the grey fur covering her and their children; it was more and less sexy than it had been last time. Octavia felt his erection grow to slap her rear, but even his wasn’t long enough to make their position workable.
How should she even let him in? Just sliding onto him proved to be unpleasant friction; was she to throw a bottle of lubricant to him? Even after that, bouncing on him would be exercise she’d rather stave off until tomorrow. She did enjoy feeling him lavishing her body with praise from where he was, but, as sexy as it may seem, she just didn’t see it working well at all.
She sighed. “No, love, I don’t think we’re going to be able to have sex like this.”
Copyright 2022 Kassaz
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