Ozzy's Game Days 3

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The car stopped at the parking lot, and Ozzy sat there for a moment, motionless, resting both hands over his taut belly. He was nine months pregnant, three days overdue, and his body felt like it was on fire and as heavy as a wrecking ball. The steering wheel pressed uncomfortably against his belly, even with the seat pushed all the way back. The seatbelt had been a battle to fasten, and now that he had parked by the soccer field, he wondered if it was a good idea to come. He exhaled slowly, a breath that trembled with fatigue, chuckling at himself.

His stretchy pale blue shirt hugged every contour of his rounded torso and shifted as he inhaled. The fabric strained against his swollen chest and middle, and his khaki shorts hugged his hips, thighs, and ass so tightly that every move felt like resistance. His back ached with a deep pressure that seemed to settle between his shoulder blades and hips. He took a deep breath and rubbed his belly as the babies inside rolled and kicked.

“Alright, boys,” he said, calmly but aware that it was a risk to come to this game with the babies so close to coming out. “We’re almost there. But let’s hold off until after the game, okay? Your brothers have a big day, and we need to be there for them.”

He had been feeling the signs for days now—the tightening of his belly, the subtle spasms in his butt, and a new heaviness that caught him off guard. It could be Braxton Hicks, maybe more. But he couldn’t miss this game, not today. His sons, Owen and Oliver, were in the championship match. No amount of pain, pressure, or exhaustion could keep him away.

Ozzy opened the door and carefully swung his legs out, groaning softly. The movement pulled at his back and made his belly shift heavily downward, pressing against his thighs. He braced one hand on the car door, and the other went to the small of his back as he levered himself up inch by inch until he was standing. He took a deep breath and tugged his shirt down, smoothing it over the huge curve and the fullness of his chest.

The fabric stretched tight but kept riding up as he moved. He shifted the hem until it settled somewhat beneath his belly. His shorts had crept up, and the snug material wedged slightly between his plump ass cheeks. He had to wiggle a bit, tugging them free before chuckling at how snugly everything hugged his thickened frame. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that it was all for Owen and Oliver.

He started waddling toward the field, with one hand supporting the small of his back and the other cradling the roundness in front of him. Each step made his belly sway and his ass bounce and jiggle. The other parents turned their heads as he passed, offering smiles, nods, and a few good-natured remarks. At this point, they had grown used to seeing his fertile form arriving at every single game.

“Still holding out, huh, Ozzy?” One dad called with a chuckle and a kind smile. “I’m surprised you haven’t popped yet.”

Ozzy grinned, blushing. “Apparently, these boys are as stubborn as their dad,” he said, patting his side as if to emphasize the point. A few laughed, and Ozzy, never one to shy away from humor, gave his belly a theatrical push forward to make the look even rounder. “Any bigger and I’ll start orbiting the field.” They shared a good-natured laugh, and he continued on his way.

Halfway to the benches, he saw Baxter standing among the line of parents. The sight of him sent a shiver down Ozzy’s back. Baxter’s eyes met his, and they shared a brief, unspoken conversation that screamed lust and desire. Baxter’s lips spread into a knowing smirk, and he playfully winked at the flushed pregnant man. Ozzy felt his pulse quicken and looked away, biting back a smile as the babies stirred restlessly in response.

“Not now, you three,” he said under his breath. “Daddy’s just saying hi.”

Ozzy then heard the voices that made everything worth it. “Dad! Dad!” Owen and Oliver ran across the grass, smiling and screaming with excitement. They reached him and wrapped their arms around his middle as far as they could.

Ozzy chuckled, balancing himself carefully as they pressed their faces to his belly. “Whoa, whoa! Easy, boys!” he laughed breathlessly, hugging them tight. “You’re gonna knock your brothers around if you’re not careful.”

“You made it!” Oliver said.

“Of course I did,” Ozzy replied, leaning in as best as he could to kiss their foreheads. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world. Your brothers are super excited,” he said, looking down at his rounded middle and gasping as the babies kicked, like confirming his words.

The boys hugged him again and then turned to lead him toward the bench. Their mother was already there, smiling when she saw him. She rose to greet him, brushing her hair back and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’re still pregnant,” she teased, scanning his plump body up and down and resting her hand on his belly. “They’re really taking their time, huh?”

Ozzy laughed, taking a deep breath. “I guess they take after me. Never in a hurry.”

“Maybe they just like the attention,” she said, chuckling. “They definitely take after you.”

“HA HA! Very funny.” He chuckled, sitting himself carefully onto the bench with her help. The movement took effort, and he gasped as he eased down, feeling his belly press forward between his knees. “Ugh. It feels like I’m sitting on a bowling ball.”

“It means it’s almost time. Get ready for the moment when that bowling ball is coming out of you. Three of them.” His ex-wife smiled fondly and handed him a snack from her bag. “Eat something. I know you. You’ll say you’re too full, but you’ll still eat it.”

She was right. Within minutes, Ozzy was nibbling on crackers, then fruit slices, then whatever else she handed him. “You spoil me. It brings some memories back,” he said around a mouthful, though his grateful smile gave him away.

“Don’t give it much thought. I do it for our boys. They’re excited about the babies,” she said, trying to sound cold. “And I remember you did the same when I was pregnant.”

The whistle blew, and the game started before Ozzy could reply. His tiredness vanished in an instant. He was on his feet before he realized it, cheering with all the energy of ten parents combined. “Go, Owen! Nice pass, Ollie!”

He shouted above the crowd, leaving him slightly breathless. His hand cupped his mouth to shout louder, while the other braced the small of his back for support. Every so often, he had to pause, panting, rubbing at his belly when it tightened or a kick landed sharply beneath his ribs. The pressure was building and moving lower, but he refused to sit down.

At one point, a particularly strong contraction made him groan. He tried to convince himself that it was another false alarm, so he took slow breaths to calm down. “Not yet, boys… just a little longer.” Then, as the tension eased, he was cheering again despite the discomfort.

However, as the minutes passed, the pain didn’t fade; it grew. His belly tightened, with a low and insistent pressure within. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breathing turned into heavy panting. He smiled and waved at another parent who looked concerned, pretending it was nothing. But when the next wave hit, stronger and more intense, Ozzy winced and knew he couldn’t hide it much longer.

He excused himself quietly, telling his ex-wife he’d be right back, and began the slow walk toward the bathrooms. Each step was a small act of will against his body’s lack of strength. “Come on, not now, please. Let me see them finish their game,” he said, rubbing his belly and feeling the babies getting restless as real contractions hit him.

Inside the bathroom, he leaned on the sink, groaning as another tightening rolled through him. “Okay, okay… deep breaths…” He pulled up his shirt, exposing the taut surface of his belly, and watched it shift with movement. “You three have the worst timing,” he said softly, though there was no real anger; he was deeply excited about them finally coming out.

Then, he heard the door opening behind him, and Ozzy didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Baxter’s low voice gave him some peace despite the pain. “Ozzy? You okay?”

Ozzy looked up in the mirror and smiled when he saw the man’s reflection. “Hey,” he said between breaths. “I’m fine… just—” He stopped to inhale, groaning softly as his belly contracted again. “Maybe not fine. I think it’s time.”

Baxter blinked, then smiled, stepping closer. “Really?” he said, unable to hide his excitement. “You sure know how to pick your moments.”

Ozzy laughed weakly, rubbing his belly and breathing heavily. “Tell me about it.”

Baxter got right behind him, gently resting his hands on Ozzy’s sides, then sliding them up to caress the roundness of his abdomen. The babies shifted under his touch, and Ozzy shuddered. Baxter’s touch was sweet and tender, reminding him how he had ended up in that situation in the first place. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Baxter whispered.

Ozzy smiled, closing his eyes. “Flattery’s not gonna get you out of helping me walk back to the car. You did this to me, and you better help me through it.”

Baxter chuckled. “Who says I want to walk away?” He leaned in close, resting his chin near Ozzy’s shoulder to kiss his neck while caressing the belly where their boys moved. “I would love to be there and see how you bring our kids into the world. But we know it’s not that easy.”

“I know.” Ozzy smiled and nodded as his body softened under that voice. Despite the pressure and pain, a familiar calm settled over him—the same feeling Baxter always seemed to bring. He exhaled, leaning back slightly against him, feeling Baxter’s chest pressing close. “You think they’ll wait until after the game?” he asked quietly.

Baxter looked down, noticing how low the belly was. “If they’re anything like you, probably not.” He kissed Ozzy’s neck and pushed his hips forward to press his big bulge against the pregnant man’s plump ass. “But before they do, let me enjoy this a little longer. I’ve loved seeing you getting rounder and fuller, and knowing that it’s my kids doing that to your body makes it all better. I’m not ready to see it all gone just like that.”

Ozzy’s lips parted, and a moan escaped his mouth, melting into Baxter’s arms as he felt the massive cock that knocked him up stirring against his butt. “You always know what to say,” he whispered, between groans and gasps.

Baxter smirked and spread his hands over Ozzy’s belly, feeling the movements and how the surface tightened. The world outside blurred, and they could only hear the distant sounds of cheers and celebration announcing another goal.

Baxter’s arms tightened around him. He pressed forward, pushing his hardening cock snugly against Ozzy’s ass, as his lips brushed Ozzy’s neck. “You’re so hot! So big! So full! It’s driving me crazy, you know.”

The closeness made Ozzy tremble, realizing what Baxter wanted without a word. Despite his discomfort, his lips curled into a playful smirk. “You want one last time before they come, huh?” he asked softly, pushing his hips backwards to show his willingness.

Baxter grinned, and his kisses turned more passionate. “Yeah,” he whispered, hugging him tighter. His hands moved tenderly over Ozzy’s belly, making him shiver. “We have enough time for a quick round. Nobody’s coming here until halftime,” he said, moving his hands to Ozzy’s hips to squeeze them and knead the meaty curves.

Ozzy gasped at the touch, tilting his head slightly and closing his eyes as he leaned back into Baxter’s arms. “Then do it. Fill me up like you’ve been doing all these months,” he whispered between heavy pants.

Baxter immediately tugged at the waistband of Ozzy’s shorts to pull them down, revealing the rounded ass he loved so much. Then, he removed his own pants and let his massive cock out in full glory, ready to take Ozzy’s body to cloud nine one last time before their babies were born.

“Damn, I’m gonna miss game days,” Baxter said, brushing his cock against Ozzy’s ass and shivering at the sensation he had come to crave so badly.

...

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PN: AI Generated image only meant to illustrate the scene.