The party went on for about an hour or so after that but was beginning to slow.  My hard on continued as I noticed did Pete’s and El Laddo’s.   You couldn’t tell about El P as his was safely locked away again.   The trouble was that the others had cum (with the exception of Pete – I hoped).  I was still desperate to cum and every movement of my clothing was torture as it got me even more aroused.

 

They invited us to doss down on the floor of the bar as they all went home in the early hours of the morning.  It saved having to put the tent up.   Pete and I had a conversation before finally going to sleep.   He had cum and had drunk it.   He said, in retrospect, it was a disgusting thing to do but he just got totally into the party and it was the best New Year he had ever had.  Also he wanted to show me how confident he was that this could never happen and it was all a myth.   He wanted me to know how wrong I was.   Men don’t get pregnant – full stop – no matter what silly rituals they undertake.   He asked me what I had done so I explained about the saliva.   He said I was mad to think that the risk was there in the first place – and, as an afterthought – he said his cum tasted quite nice.

 

As we snuggled down in our sleeping bags, I still felt randy as hell and I daren’t sleep in case I had a wet dream.   I didn’t know whether it was the cumming that got you up the duff or the drinking of it as well.   Before tonight my research had suggested that it was only the former but I wasn’t going to risk it.  A question Pete asked the next morning, rather mockingly on my behalf I thought, confirmed it was both.

 

I managed to get through the night without cumming – thank goodness, but still had a raging hard on in the morning, as I noticed did Pete.  I seem to remember he made some sarcastic comment about it.   El P & La P invited us to their home for breakfast – well, more brunch really – and we met their 6 year old son Carlos.   El  P patted his stomach and said that Carlos was hoping for a sister this time.   “Yeah, right” whispered Pete.   El P nodded to Pete and said ‘you are pregnant now’ (after Pete had asked last night if he were pregnant after drinking La Pancha) and he looked at me and said he wasn’t so sure – and gave me a knowing look.   I think he must have discovered about the saliva.

 

After a leisurely brunch – all of us ‘eating for 2’ – allegedly – Pete and I made our way back to Funchal.   They invited us back for the Easter celebrations towards the end of April when those pregnant are particularly celebrated.   If for one knew I had to come see this as it was all part of my research.   Before I left, I got Pete to ask El P. about symptoms in male pregnancy.   You could see Pete losing patience with all this, but went along with it one last time to be told they were exactly the same as for women – morning sickness included.

 

I still had a hard on and felt I could cum at any time but Pete said his was subsiding.  I had to get through the next night without an accident, then I reckoned I would be alright.   We walked out of the village and because it was New Year’s Day had to walk almost to Funchal before we found a taxi to take us to the hotel we had booked for a few days before flying home.  At least my dick had returned to normal by then & I felt safe to sleep again.

 

Spring 2007

Life went on pretty much as normal.   I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted Pete to be pregnant or not.   It would be great for all this to be true but I didn’t want to wish a pregnancy on him.   January passed and Pete was much the same as ever.   I didn’t want to push the pregnancy thing because he tended to rubbish it.   He was a couple of years older than me and like to show it every now and again.

 

February moved into March and I asked Pete if he would like to go back and see the friends we had made in Madeira over New Year and I would show him some pregnant men even though he still emphatically said that he was not pregnant.   I had asked him once about morning sickness and he had denied it.   As I never seemed to see him in the morning – it was usually the evening when we met up so I couldn’t tell if he was being honest with me.   Anyway, because we had had such a good time over New Year he agreed he would come again and so we flew out the 3^rd week of April.

 

It was while we were waiting for the bus outside the airport to take us into Funchal that I first noticed Pete’s little pooch.  It was quite warm and he took off his baggy sweat shirt.   The T-shirt underneath was quite close fitting and it rode up a bit and stuck.   “You’re putting on a little weight there mate” I said.   He rearranged his T shirt and made some remark about turning 30 and beginning to fill out a bit.   He had been so adamant that he wasn’t pregnant that it didn’t occur to me that he probably was – after what had happened over New Year.

 

We had a few days in a hotel in Funchal before setting off to the village/   Pete had been teaching me Portuguese and I was beginning to get the basics.   Funchal was a good place to practice.   While we were there I couldn’t help but be turned on by Pete’s new belly.   Even though it was quite small, it showed up well under his shirts, without a bulky sweat shirt to hide it, and was quite noticeable especially against my flat abs.

 

A day before Easter Day, we caught the bus up to the mountains and then walked the rest of the way.    We had a warm greeting when we arrive and Pete’s small belly was made a great fuss of.   The lack of any belly on me was greeted with sadness.   El P, who looked blooming gave me that knowing look again.   He had definitely rumbled what I had done when here before.

 

That evening, we assembled in the bar again.   El Laddo appeared looking as worried as ever and with quite a bump on his small frame.   I pointed out to Pete that the poor lad looked pregnant.   He was still in denial.   El P was looking a bit rounder in the belly too, but that needn’t necessarily been a baby growing.   His bigger body meant a baby bump was less obvious.

 

Everyone was making a great fuss of the pregnant ones – it almost made me wish I hadn’t managed to wriggle out of coming with child.   However, the long term consequences made me realise that I had taken the right decision. 

 

It was a pleasant enough evening and I now knew enough Portuguese to know that Pete was confiding in El P saying that he thought he was pregnant and I wasn’t which didn’t seem fair to him as I was the one with the kinky fetish in male pregnancy.

 

It was true – it was a fetish for me not just an academic study and Pete’s sexy 16 /17 week belly was driving me wild.  The way he was wearing his trousers lower and his pregnancy curved out slightly from under them pushing out the front of his shirt and the fact that I knew he was going to get bigger – much bigger – was such a turn on.

 

It was also interesting to note that he had admitted to El P that he was pregnant.  I wondered how long he had known that and what he thought about it.   As far as I could tell he seemed quite positive about it and didn’t seem to be looking at me, who got him into this mess in the first place, with any kind of reproach.   For myself, I just couldn’t wait to see him grow.

 

I wished my Portuguese was a bit better, but I could tell that El P was telling him not to worry – La Panchetta always sees justice is done – at least I thought that was the tone of the conversation.

 

I saw what El P meant a few minutes later as 2 of the men of the village bring in a lad I guess in his mid 20s.   Apparently, he is reknown for sleeping around and has got a couple of local girls pregnant.   Now, it seemed, they were going to give him a taste of his own medicine and give him a dose of extra strong La Pancha that had been saved just in case now of the New Year candidates don’t get pregnant.  I didn’t like the sound of that for a start as I came into that category.   Anyway, all attention was on this new guy and away from me so that was good.

 

When I asked why they didn’t make him one of the four at Christmas, El P said that they want to make an example of him.   Because La Pancha had got a lot more potent over the months its effect would be greater; so someone who failed to get pregnant the first time had more chance of doing so while a person taking it for the first time was likely to get pregnant with more than one.   So this is really punishment for this poor guy.

 

The two villagers held him and he was forced to swallow the extra strong La Pancha.   They had locked the door of the bar so that he can’t escape.   Everyone is watching.   They have to wait till he gets hard before the next stage.    He is looking scared but he knew that he couldn’t run anywhere and so he sat quietly and passively.

 

I watched La Panchetta come with another glass and I wondered who it was for.   It turned out that it was for me and she politely asked me to drink it.   I had no choice in the matter really and do so without a fuss.   After 30 minutes or so I get a huge hard on, such as I have never had before but they were busy jacking off the other guy and so I was told to wait.   He was then forced to drink his cum.

 

Then I was told that because it didn’t work last time I must be supervised to make sure it is done properly the second time and the pregnancy has a better chance of happening.   By this stage I am so unbelievably horny that I had no other option but to cum anyway and have absolutely no trouble despite the audience.   As requested I swallowed the result as I knew I had no choice in this.   Did I hear a ‘yes!’ under Pete’s breath as I did so.   In any event I was now stuck with that hard on for another 2 days the stuff was so strong but at least I could sleep as I had no fear of cumming now – it was all too late – except I couldn’t sleep as I worried about the fact that I was now definitely pregnant, unless by some miracle I failed to conceive.   I was also wondering what the implication of ‘extra strong’ meant.

 

So I suppose it could have been said that La Panchetta had seen that justice had been done in both cases – mine as well as the other guy’s but for different reasons.   I wondered what it would be like to be pregnant.   Part of me had always really wanted to be up the duff and another part wondered how I would cope when I got big and obvious.   Would people just mistake it for a beer belly, or what?   I didn’t know, but I knew that in 9 months I would find out.   In a year’s time I would be a father – but then Pete had only 6 months before he donned fatherhood.   I made a mental note to have a chat with him soon on what the early stages of pregnancy were like.

 

There was no time just then as we were taken to El P’s house where we stayed for a few days.   Neither he nor Pete seemed to hold what had not happened to me at New Year, against me even though it was now very apparent that I had cheated the first time around.   But as La Panchetta would say, justice was done.

 

The next day Pete was taken to an older man in the village who knew about male pregnancy – just for a check up.   The man carefully felt around Pete’s small but beautiful gut – first as he stood and then laying down and he pronounced that Pete was experiencing the perfect pregnancy – all this without ultrasound or any modern technology.   Mind you it did take him quite a few minutes as it was all done by feel.   The man was able to tell that the baby was a healthy weight at this stage in the pregnancy and Pete was sent on his way with a special lotion to stop him getting stretch marks.   That thought obviously shocked Pete and I have to confess that stretch marks hadn’t occurred to me either, and that was something I was going to have to contend with as well, later on.

 

Later that day we met up with El Laddo – which was my name for him as we didn’t know his real one.  It turned out to be Amelio.   He had quite a belly on him even at this early stage which really pushed his shirt out.   It was pretty big really considering he was not yet 4 months gone.   It hardly seems just as El P, being quite big already, is hardly showing.   Despite Amelio being quite big and always looking worried he told us that his pregnancy was going well and was really pleased to be able to do this for his Mum and he was happy to be pregnant.   It made him feel special.   He hadn’t like it at first but now that he had got over the morning sickness he was looking forward to the rest of it.   Pete and Amelio compared bellies and Amelio’s certainly appeared to win.   Pete said he didn’t mind at all as he didn’t want to get too big too soon.   He stil had to work.

 

That was the other thing I wanted to quiz Pete about – what he was going to do about his job when he got really big towards the end of his pregnancy.   We didn’t have a chance to have that conversation until we were back in Funchal a few days later.   It turned out that Pete had come back to Madeira to ask for an abortion.   El P had explained that because of the male anatomy and the way we carry babies, abortion was a major operation and not an option.   Pete quickly realised that he would have to go through with this and seeing El P and Amelio obviously pregnant had given him th resolve to carry on himself.  In fact, it had completely changed his attitude to his beautiful and growing belly.

 

Apparently, El P said it would easy to get Pete’s baby adopted in the village and a couple had already put in a bid for it.   Pete said he would carry his baby to term and after giving birth would bring it out to Madeira.   El P said that men gave birth with less complications than women (which is rather ironic really considering women are the ones designed to do it!) though it was equally painful for both sexes.  It was just a case of having someone else around to help.  They didn’t need any special training.   Pete said he would do it for me if I would agree to do it for him.   So that was easily decided.

 

I was amazed how much Pete had got sorted out in his head.   After the students had gone home at the end of June he would ask for study leave to finish the book he was writing on some obscure Spanish author or other.   He was owed some anyway and wouldn’t return until after he had given birth.   I asked him if he thought he would be quite big by the end of June but as he pointed out, it was only two months away and he wasn’t that big now.   Some baggy shirts he thought would do it.  

 

I asked him when he had realised he was pregnant.   He said that he began wondering in February when he started getting morning sickness.   At first he thought he had eaten something but when it went on over weeks he began to realise that it might actually be something else.   And when his trousers started getting tight at the end of March, he knew for certain he was with child which was why he agreed to come back with me to Madeira.

 

He hadn’t told me and had dressed so that it was well hidden when his gut had started growing because he wanted to leave it as long as possible without actually telling me.   In fact, he never really did tell me as it came out as he was talking to El P.   He said it took a long time to come to terms with it as he really didn’t believe it could happen and all his reactions over New Year were true.   It was only in March when he realised with horror that he truly was up the duff and only kept being friends with me to get back to Madeira so that he could find out how to get rid of it.   The tight T at the airport under the sweat shirt was all designed to show me his pregnant state – though I failed to latch on to it straight away.   But now, having had a few days with Amelio and El P he felt entirely different   Now he felt really alive.   He had been inspired by them both, especially Amelio, who is very obviously pregnant already and so pleased to be doing this for his Mum.   El P said that the Gyno man thinks Amelio will be huge by the end as it is often the way with skinny blokes.   Great, I thought, I am skinny too.   Amelio knows he is going to be big but doesn’t seem to mind.

 

I ask before we leave, if I can come back over the summer and stay for a few weeks.   I hope my Portuguese will be good enough by then to cope on my own in case Pete doesn’t want to come.   He will be getting big by then I guess.   They said that they would be delighted to welcome us both.   That is great because even if Pete doesn’t make it I can do an in depth study of the history of it all.

 

Pete and I returned home.    We are now going to be seeing a lot of each other as he gives me a crash course in Portuguese.

 

Back in the UK time seems to fly by.   After my first Portuguese lesson, I admit to Pete that despite resisting it in the first place, I am now really pleased to be pregnant and what a privilege it will be to experience this amazing thing – as a man.   Pete is a man of short, pithy answers and just said to wait until the morning sickness kicks in.

 

With time seemingly going so fast, it doesn’t seem long before just that thing happens.   I wake up one morning feeling so ill, I can’t believe it.   That very same evening, I find myself gorging on gherkins and icecream like it is going out of fashion.   I am definitely pregnant.  I hadn’t started putting on weight at that stage, but I knew that I soon would eating at that rate.   The next morning I was throwing up again.   When I tell all this to Pete, I can tell it is nothing amazing to him – he has been there, seen it, done I – got the T shirt.

 

Talking of T shirts, I hope that Pete is wearing different clothes to work because the reasonably large T shirt he was wearing tonight when I went for my language lesson was being very nicely filled with his expanding girth.   He is growing quickly now and seems to be quite enjoying his new and expanding belly.   In fact I would say that he was proud of it.   He rests his hand on it a lot now and often seems to go far away as he does so.   He tells me he felt the baby move yesterday – a feeling like butterflies in the tummy he said.   Although I have felt nothing, I feel quite connected to my baby who continues to cause me to throw up violently every morning as May moves into June.

 

a great story!!!

This is good.

@ Embarazado - As I said in my intro to the story

I first started writing this story several years ago and I think I might have posted the beginning of it on here or the previous board. Then I lost it somewhere so have started writing it again and have got a bit further with it this time.

I hope to post more up soon.

Summer 2007

In June I notice that things are getting tight around the waist and quiz Pete about it as I am only not even near the end of my second month.   He confirms that he didn’t notice anything like that until well on in the third.   He reminds me that I am only slight and that El P said that those with small frames tended to get bigger bumps.   I think of Amelio who is just starting his 6^th month now and is probably getting huge.   I wonder what it is like for him to carry all that belly around.   It can’t be easy for him.   I wonder if he is still happy to be doing it for his Mum.  I hope so.   He is a nice lad and deserves the best.

 

When I stop to consider it, Amelio must be large as Pete has really grown this last month too.   Apparently, his students are advising him to stay off the beer – and to be fair – as beer guts go his is getting big.   I don’t think he had any idea he would get this big so quickly.   I am surprised too and wonder what this will mean for me.   Despite throwing up for England every morning, my stomach is getting bigger.   When I wore a close fitting T shirt to a Portuguese lesson the other night Pete commented on it from over the top of his burgeoning gut.   At least I can still disguise mine, but I don’t suppose I will be able to do it for much longer.

 

Pete’s stomach is not the only thing that is growing.   We went for a hike the other Saturday and Pete was wearing lycra shorts which he swears are the only comfortable items of clothing he has now.   This is partly because he needs stuff that sits under his belly; exacerbated by the fact that his dick and balls have grown somewhat and something stretchy is needed to accommodate them in all their splendid fullness.   But mostly it is because his butt is developing beautifully.   It is becoming quite a bubble butt with a beautiful jiggle on it as he walks.   It is so hot to follow him when he is walking and gets me really hard.   Mind you everything seems to get me hard these days.   It is all part of the experience Pete says – and it only gets worse he goes on to encourage me!

 

In view of his expanding waist line, Pete says he doesn’t think he will come with me to Madeira at the end of July.   He will find flying to uncomfortable.   I can see what he means.   When I think my bump is getting big, I only have to compare it with his and realise it is not.   Mind you, he is coming up 7 months pregnant now and I have barely done 3.   At lease morning sickness is not as bad now, though still sometimes gives a bit of discomfort early on in the day.

 

During my last Portuguese lesson before I was due to depart early August for a long stay (a month) Pete’s baby was kicking pretty hard.   He let me feel – it was amazing and you could see the feet making impressions on the taught skin of his gut.   It was so cute.   Pete says it is pretty uncomfortable in reality but good to know that the baby is alive (and kicking!)

 

Pete tells me my Portuguese has come on in leaps and bounds in the last few months.   We have been concentrating a lot on pregnancy terms so that I can have good conversations.   There is a lot I want to try and find out during my time there.   I pack carefully, bearing in mind I have now hit the 4^th month at which stage Pete’s belly really began to grow and so I took bigger shirts but didn’t reckon it necessary to buy new bigger ones as there was nothing I was going to grow out of in a month while I was there.   Pete took me to the airport which was kind especially as he was beginning to look awkward behind the wheel because of his size.   

loved it