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Midlife, Part 2
🕑 Added 2020-10-22 17:02:14 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $2 Patrons
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Summary: Tom is in his mid-forties. Comfortably married in suburbia with his wife, office job, and his 2.5 kids getting ready for college, Jim finds himself immersed in an affair with a fit young biogeneticist. Jim has no idea why he's gaining so much weight, and his wife has started making remarks about it. Little does he know, his secret boyfriend is not only experimenting on him but breeding him. Worse, Jim can apparently get pregnant additional times while already pregnant, and end up carrying multiple babies of different gestational ages. Its only a matter of time before his secret affair comes to light. That, in addition to other things.
-
“I honestly think something weird and hormonal is going on,” Tom was saying. “I mean look at my—ohhhhhh…”
Ian had licked Tom’s nipple, then kissed it with the faintest hint of suction. The sensation left Tom’s whole body trembling.
“You look great,” said Ian, moving on to Tom’s neck, just so Tom could breathe again.
It took Tom a full minute to respond. “That’s kind of you,” he said weakly. “But I’m getting hella fat. Half the time I don’t even know why you bother with me,” he forced a laugh. “You can have any guy you want. I’m starting to look like a blimp.”
“Stop that,” Ian chastised. He crawled down Tom’s body, causing Tom to take a deep breath in anticipation. But Ian stopped at Tom’s bloated stomach. Kissed it lovingly. Tom grimaced and looked up at the ceiling, his body sprawled back against Ian’s living room couch.
“I think it’s charming,” Ian murmured on Tom’s skin. “You look cute. Domestic.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well I’m due for a physical anyway.” He threw an uncertain glance down at his puffy nipples, and the way his chest had begun to bloat as well. “There’s definitely something weird going on.”
Ian looked up at him, eyes deep and blue as ever. “If you want, I can do your labs. It would be no trouble.”
Tom perked. “Really?”
“Of course.”
“God, that would save me a lot of awkwardness at my doctor’s office,” Tom said. “Sometimes I forget you’re a physician.”
“Almost a physician,” Ian corrected.
“Hardly matters. You’re brilliant.”
“I am, aren’t I?” said Ian with that predatory stare of his.
“And humble.”
“Come here.”
Tom leaned down to Ian’s pink, perfect lips. He felt Ian’s hand crawl to his waist, slide over his belly. He just leaned closer, self-consciousness dissolving as Ian steadily worshipped every part of his body.
-
Tom’s gut was weirdly firm. And the weight gain was really getting out of control. His wife’s subtle remarks had evolved to more blatant ones that ranged from concerned to irritated. He insisted that he was as oblivious as she was as to what was going on. That he’d seen a doctor (Ian) and gotten his bloodwork done and everything. The labs had come back normal, yet the pounds were piling on beyond his control and for no apparent reason. Tom supposed his ravenous appetite lately probably didn’t help his case much. He had to admit that he was eating much more that he ever had before. But he’d swear that the weight gain had started first, and the increased eating had followed. Penny just shot him looks of annoyance.
Meanwhile, Ian continued to insist that he loved Tom’s weight gain. He’d lick Tom’s gut and suck his nipples till Tom was moaning. Ian watched Tom get dressed in clear pleasure, smirking at the way Tom’s shirts strained more and more every day. Somehow it all just turned Ian on.
“You should put on more,” Ian mentioned, as Tom was getting ready to leave Ian’s apartment that evening.
“What?”
“More weight. It looks good on you.”
Tom shot Ian a dirty look.
Ian’s fridge was always full of takeout and leftover pastries from the bakery. It was absolutely ludicrous. Ian was lean and fit yet seemed to have the diet of a toddler, and Tom found himself indulging, snacking, taking a break from normal eating every chance he could. Even at present he was munching on his second cream puff as he tried to leave, when he suddenly found Ian hugging his plump waist, keeping him in place.
“With the way I’ve been eating, I’d be surprised if I don’t,” Tom grumbled, continuing the earlier conversation. “No thanks to you,” he added.
“God, you look good.”
Tom wondered if this was a weird fetish thing, but it just didn’t seem consistent with Ian’s personality. Ian had been content with Tom’s previously slim build. He had never mentioned wanting Tom fatter.
Tom felt weirdly comfortable in Ian’s arms as he didn’t at home these days, with Penny eying him every time he opened the fridge or struggled with a pants button.
Ian was hard. Tom felt it against his own stirring cock. His breath shuddered with his exhalation.
“It’s sexy,” Ian muttered.
“You’re ridiculous,” said Tom, flustered and annoyed.
Yet he allowed Ian to pull him away from the door, deeper into the apartment. Somehow they found their way to the fridge, where they employed whipped cream and other decadent, fattening things, in the sordid escapades that followed.
-
The experiment was going better than expected.
The baby was healthy.
Tom was getting big. Really big.
It seemed he was trying to avoid the growing issue of his weight gain, as his efforts to control it had proven delightfully fruitless. Instead Tom had taken to wearing much looser clothes, in addition to layers, that helped to soften the sharp jut of his baby bump. He remained oblivious, though Tom could hardly blame him. This whole situation was unprecedented. Tom was a miraculous medical breakthrough and he didn’t even know.
And he truly did look good, better than Ian had expected. Ian found that he actually did like seeing Tom like this. The weight going to Tom’s face smoothed away the wrinkles that had begun to set in there, leaving a pinkness, a beautiful glow, adding charm to Tom’s flustered, overwhelmed state.
His chest had softened and rounded, developing into small breasts with hard pink nipples and puffy areola, both double their original size and pleasantly sensitive.
Tom’s ass had gotten plumper, but most of Ian’s attention was drawn to the firm curve of his belly jutting out from his otherwise slim body. He had a proper pregnancy bump, fit for a woman six months gone, though Tom wasn’t even that far. Ian presumed that the male body’s narrow pelvis forced the baby to grow farther outward where it would have settled a bit deeper into a woman’s more spacious abdominal cavity.
Ian thought Tom carried well. He liked to watch Tom, after their nights together, as the older man struggled into his shirts and straining slacks, his mound so big and awkward it could hardly remain a secret for much longer. Ian liked the way Tom’s small tits sat high and round on his chest, pushing out his shirt, embarrassingly distended nipples protruding evidently against the fabric.
“I’m going to see a doctor,” Tom admitted as he finally got his last shirt button done, though it looked like it would pop right off. Tom absently cupped the mound then shrugged. “No offense. Penny thinks I’m really sick. Might need an ultra sound.”
Ian snapped out of his reverie. “What?”
“Could be fluid. Or a tumor. Or—hell, I don’t know. You’re the doctor—in training,” Tom added, before Ian could protest.
Ian stammered, “You’re fine Tom, just a little weight gain.” He wasn’t ready for this.
Tom took Ian’s hand and pressed it to his firm swell. “It’s hard Ian. That’s not fat. And I’ve been having really weird indigestion lately.”
Indigestion? What did Tom mean by that? Could there have been movement? Already? Ian’s heart swelled.
“I have an appointment this evening,” said Tom, letting go of Ian’s hand, but it lingered on Tom’s stomach. “Hopefully I get this thing figured out.” Tom grabbed his briefcase, grimacing as he leaned down, hand flying to the underside of his belly.
“No,” said Ian.
Tom straightened and gave him a quizzical look.
“You don’t need a scan, Tom. I know what’s wrong with you.”
Tom’s eyebrow rose. “Pray tell.”
Ian closed in, hands shaking slightly as he cupped either side of the bump. “You’re my greatest experiment. The star of my dissertation. You’re just—amazing.”
“What?”
“You’re pregnant, Tom.”
“What?” Tom repeated blankly. His face was confused, but brightened slightly in amusement. When Ian maintained his serious demeanor, Tom became confused again.
“I got you pregnant. I—experimented on you, Tom. A male pregnancy has never been successful before, but yours is. It’s viable. Its—well, its thriving. Just look at you.”
Tom’s expression continued to evolve, becoming uneasy, alarmed, then just horrified. It hadn’t taken a lot to convince him. Both knew Ian was brilliant, after all.
“You can go to the hospital if you want, but I can do an ultrasound right here. It would be a lot less…public.”
“Fuck,” Tom breathed. He made his way to a chair and sat down, moving much more gingerly than he would have before, already mindful, already adapting. “Fuck,” Tom said again, putting his face in his hands. “You goddamn prick. I’m in my forties. I’m married. I can’t—god—fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ian.
He wasn’t.
-
Tom was supposed to be planning early retirement. He should have been teaching his son how to drive (and change a flat), helping his daughter pick a college (getting her moved into her dorm). He should have been looking forward to having grandchildren within the next five to ten years.
And now he was pregnant. A freak. A living impossibility and nightmare he couldn’t even have dreamed up.
“What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath for the umpteenth time, staring at his windshield but not actually seeing anything beyond it.
He already had two kids, both on the brink of adulthood. What the hell was he supposed to do with a baby? He couldn’t believe what this was doing to his body. He was growing tits, and a belly. He cupped the mound, staring down at himself with that ceaseless horror. And god, he was—showing. He was really, really showing, and he hadn’t even known.
Fuck Ian. He was the one who had done this. Ian had waited as long as possible to tell Tom, waited till Tom had no options and couldn’t hide it.
What would Sid and Kim say? What would Penny?
Tom didn’t know how long he had been sitting in his running car on the driveway, but he suspected it was quite a while. He could see Sid peering at him through the living room window. Taking a deep breath, Tom forced himself to open the car door. He heaved himself up, for once realizing how heavy his body had gotten recently.
When Tom entered the house, Sid gave him a confused grin. “Why were you out there so long?”
“Is everything alright?” said Penny, walking out of the kitchen, clear worry on her face. “How did your appointment go?”
Tom hesitated to respond. Suddenly he wanted to cry. But somehow he managed a smile and shrug. “All the tests came back normal.”
Penny blinked at him, clearly surprised.
“But I do, er, have to wait a few days for the bloodwork results,” Tom continued to lie, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was better to give her something to anticipate; add a hint of believability to the fib. After all, Penny appeared certain that there was something medically wrong with him.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Oh, well,” she absently rubbed her hands on her thighs. “Let’s hope for the best, then.”
“Everything’s going to be fine, Penn.” He closed in and hugged her to his side as he forced another smile and tried not to think about the weird lurching going on inside of him.
-
His kids snickered at him every time he wasn’t paying attention (and sometimes when he was). He struggled to hide it, but he was positively inflating.
What the hell am I going to do? Tom wondered, as he frowned down at his form, as was his wont these days.
He fucking hated Ian, and the fact that the man would do something so violating without so much as asking for permission. Tom was too old for this. He was the worst person who could have been chosen for it. And it was the worst possible time of his life.
Ironically enough, Tom found himself spending a lot more time at Ian’s apartment. Sometimes it felt like he had nowhere else to go.
They hadn’t fucked for a while. The two just argued when they were together. Tom threw insults and accusations. Ian was getting irritable, eyes cold and wild, and disturbingly enough, hungry. Hungry when they laid on Tom’s swollen midsection, and god, Ian looked so fucking good in his frustration that it made Tom’s throat dry.
Tom tried to leave one evening, after the third shouting match between them, but Ian grabbed hold of his arm; visibly inhaled.
“Stay,” said Ian calmly. “I know it’s a lot of stress at home.”
Tom scoffed, “It’s a lot of stress here.”
“Then stop fighting me. Sit. Relax. We’ll order in. Let’s just—stop fighting.”
Tom’s eyes lowered. It was true that Ian’s apartment was usually preferable to the dubious looks from Penny, Sid’s clear amusement, and Kim’s growing disgust. Tom was hyper-conscious of his growing girth and the growing shame, and Ian’s place still proved to be a reprieve from it all.
“Okay,” he said allowing Ian to take his briefcase. With a deep sigh, Tom went to the living room couch and slumped down against the soft cushions.
