Delayed Pt. 3

Delayed Revisited

Part Three

The refund process was a mess. After a lot of convincing and agreeing to pay another lofty fee, Peter got the hosting platform to automate the process for him. He ended up losing more than forty grand, which while a lot, was just a drop in the bucket compared to the millions he had coming his way from one very generous (and probably crazy) viewer.

Waiting for the first million to hit his bank account was as nerve-wracking as it was thrilling. Once it was in, Peter went to the bank and took out a few thousand in cash just to see and hold it. This money was going to be life-changing…

Peter's condition, his online fame, the three big (and still growing) babies already packed inside him, were all completely life-changing, but ultimately, for the better. Mentally, he felt lighter, and now always had a big smile on his face despite his constant state of fluster. The day after the first million became available to Peter, Brad noticed how cheerful his still pregnant boyfriend was and asked about it.

“I'm just excited,” Peter shrugged. “Aren't you?”

Brad smiled back. “Of course I am,” he replied as he kissed him on the lips and lovingly rubbed his belly.

Just twenty-nine more days to go, then Peter would never have to get or be pregnant again, unless he wanted to. He'd be set.

*****

Whenever Richard came to exchange the kids, he looked at his ex with increasing alarm and concern but surprisingly, kept his comments to himself. One of the reasons he and Peter's marriage hadn't worked out was because they had such strong, opposite personalities… Had they still been together, Richard would've easily seen through Peter's bullshit because he knew him better than anyone else, Brad included.

Speaking of Peter's new man, Brad was Richard's polar opposite. Most of the time, he was painfully passive. But with the triplets’ due date now well behind them, he'd also become concerned. He repeatedly tried to find subtle ways to gently inquire about when they should expect the babies to arrive now? Eventually, he asked one too many times…

“They'll come when they're ready, Brad!” Peter snapped one afternoon after being questioned again, causing Brad to flinch like some young animal being trained against bad behavior.

Feeling bad, Peter softened slightly. He needed Brad on his side, after all.

“I just want everything to be natural,” he explained.

“But this isn't natural anymore…” Brad cautiously pointed out.

“Well neither are any of those horrible induction drugs!” Peter replied with a strong shake of his head. “I want all natural! That's why I'm letting the babies come when they want!”

This of course was a lie. Brad was right: there was nothing natural about Peter's prolonged pregnancy anymore… He was back on the contraction-inhibiting medication which thankfully, continued to work. Now three weeks overdue, Peter's breasts had become incredibly engorged. He'd gone up another cup size to DD and would probably go up at least one more before all was said and done.

His nipples were constantly erect, almost always tingled now and had also grown some more, as had his ass. Peter had always had a nice, bordering on big butt, but recently, it'd really plumped up, protruding large and round behind him.

Of course, Peter's belly continued to bulge more too, huge, round and swollen to the point it felt increasingly overwhelming hanging off the front of his otherwise still narrow frame. The orb had grown to be wider than the rest of him and whenever it tensed or lurched from the babies movements, he instantly went red in the face and had to grab hold of whatever he was closest to for support.

All his clothes were tight now. None of the local paternity or even maternity wear stores had anything big enough, so he'd ordered more stuff from a speciality store online, but it wouldn't come for another week. With less and less to chose from, Peter mainly resorted to sweatpants and t-shirts that were stretched so taut, it only made him look even bigger.

He was constantly rubbing his belly, not just out of habit but because it was just there and unavoidable. As much as he rubbed it, it did little to settle the triplets, who still liked to move around as much as they could despite their increasing lack of space as they continued to grow.

Just a little longer and a little bigger, Peter kept telling himself. I can do this.

He had to now.

*****

It was taking Peter more and more effort to hide his extreme discomfort from Brad. This was the only reason he was glad he’d (somehow) managed to convince his boyfriend from moving in full-time just yet. God knows Peter needed the help, but he also needed a break… Whenever Brad was around (which was still a lot,) Peter worked overtime to present himself as happy, composed and comfortable with his extreme state. Only when Brad wasn’t there did he allow himself to be the flushed, gasping mess of a monstrously pregnant man he’d truly come to be.

Sometimes, Peter had to groan loudly just to try and bear some of the ever-increasing pressure. Sometimes, his belly would shudder so forcefully, he thought for sure it was either going to fall off or burst open right then and there, but of course, it never did. The human body was truly remarkable, its capacity to adapt rather astounding.

On the rare occasion he ventured out of the house, people didn’t stare at Peter anymore. Now, they blatantly gawked. He’d literally grown beyond receiving their sympathy, and rather than offering to assist, people now (literally) went out of their way to avoid him. No one (himself included) had ever seen someone as pregnant as Peter now was, at least not in person.

He couldn't stop eating… As a result, his ass and breasts continued to bloat notably by the day, as did of course his belly, which had grown to be as big as one of those party beach balls. Since Peter's stomach didn't have much (let alone enough) room, he was forced to eat “a little” all the time. Finally, Brad's profession came in handy… He used his store discount to bring over mountains of food which his increasingly fecund boyfriend quickly devoured.

Peter couldn't stay standing for long anymore. Most of the time, he could be found in the living room, planted heavily on either the sofa or the recliner, grunting and groaning (when he could) more often than not between huge mouthfuls of food as he rubbed his steadily increasing girth.

Doing so wasn't easy (not that anything was anymore,) but he kept streaming. Every chance Peter got, he went live, his face now always straining to maintain some semblance of a smile. His viewers weren't paying to see him smile though, they were paying to see him get bigger, many of them actually taking pleasure in the discomfort that try as he might, he simply couldn't hide. Many of his viewers were also mystified…

How the hell are you still pregnant?!

Dis shit is crazy, man!!!

Is this safe?!

You're so fuckin’ hot and huge PreggoPetey!

Keep going, mama! Never give birth!!!

Those kids are gonna be big enough to start preschool when they come out!

Hold ‘em in! Don't you dare pop now!

Since no one but TryAndMakeYouBlow was aware that once again, Peter had a date picked out, the betting as to when he'd finally give birth resumed. Speaking of his benefactor, Peter hadn't heard from him again, but knew he was still watching him. He had to be…

Every time he ended a stream, he promised everyone he was going to “ride this out as long as I can.” This earned Peter a lot of fanfare and “encouragement,” but none of it helped.

Thanks to how religious he continued to be with the application of his creams, oils and lotions, tight as it was, Peter's skin remained perfectly smooth, supple and unblemished, though his belly as a whole was now frequently “decorated” with twitches and bulges as three powerful sets of cramped limbs poked out and jabbed against their confines, and three large cranium and rears stuck out here and there. As determined as their “Mama” was to keep them inside him, the triplets were to truly test his capacity.

*****

“Oooh, Goddddd…” Peter huffed out as his belly gave a particularly forceful jerk.

It was the morning and he was sitting sideways at the kitchen table, gorging himself for the first time that day. He'd been there for over twenty minutes but Peter's face remained flushed from his journey to the kitchen as he rubbed hard at his flanks, willing the triplets to calm down. Instead, all three gave a simultaneous powerful heave that left him breathless, nauseated and squirming in his seat.

Subconsciously, Peter's right hand slid down and around his biggest mound to his groin, which had also come to feel swollen, and not in a good way… The babies put so much pressure on the area now, especially when he was sitting. Though he wasn't in labor yet, Peter thought they might pop right out if he so much as sneezed, or even swallowed too hard! But of course, they never did.

“Mmmmmmnnnnnnghhh…” he groaned, thighs squirming, pinned under his massive middle as his ass clenched. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he struggled to keep it together.

The doorbell rang, somewhat pulling him from his overwhelmed state. Panting almost like he was doing lamaze, Peter blinked back his tears, trying to regain a bit of composure because he was about to have to put on another show. Not a paid one, but an important one nonetheless.

The doorbell rang again, this time twice in a row. It was Richard, there to drop off the twins.

“God damn it!” The overdue twenty-eight year old grumbled as he looked down and out at the massive orb dominating his lap, because standing was a process he'd really come to resent.

It had never been such an issue before… Peter had been able to manage better just before going into labor with the twins, when he'd repeatedly been up and down, feeling the need and urge to move around. Even just a couple weeks prior, back when he'd still been at his biggest (but that much smaller now,) he'd still been able to manage. To be fair, he'd done quite a bit of growing since then.

He slowly turned his upper body, reached out and braced both hands atop the table. As he took in as deep a breath as his constricted lungs allowed, Peter physically and mentally steeled himself. It took two attempts but finally, with a prolonged moan that drowned out the doorbell ringing again, he made it to his feet.

As soon as he was upright, his right hand flew to his lower back as his left shot down to the underside of his pregnancy. Neither were capable of providing anywhere near enough support… Now heavily panting and super flushed, Peter slowly lumbered towards the front door.

As he opened it, making sure to steer his belly clear of it, he did his best to even out his ragged breathing. Peter tried and failed to look as he did whenever Brad was around and not like the overburdened, strained, sweaty mess he actually was. Of course, the triplets chose this moment to once again proclaim their desire for freedom by clamoring around some more.

Also of course, Richard didn't buy his act, not even for a second… He gave his ex an extra queer look as he stepped inside the home they'd once shared, a twin clutched to each hip. Mercifully, he'd agreed to keep the other three children he and Peter shared for the weekend.

Once in the living room, he lowered the toddlers to the floor. As Richard stood and continued to appraise his now truly disturbingly bloated ex, the twins both scampered over to the toy box to occupy themselves.

“Peter…” he said in a measured tone as his eyes roamed.

On this particular morning, Peter was wearing a particularly tiny pair of shorts, which more than showed off his thick yet still straining legs and his recently fattened up bubble of a butt. Up top, he had on one of his newest and therefore biggest t-shirts which unsurprisingly, he'd already outgrown. His breasts strained the chest and the hem now only reached just below his now nearly nonexistent navel.

Richard's gaze quickly found the exposed curve of taut flesh and honed in on it. Peter's ex-husband was many things, including a fan of pregnancy. Richard had never outright admitted this, but Peter knew. He also knew his ex had always struggled to keep himself composed and controlled whenever he was far along in a carrying…

Seeing as he was now (and had been for some time) further along than ever before, there was a lot for Richard to take in, which he did. As much as the attorney (very much) liked all he saw, it still didn't sit well with him. He would be as crazy as his ex if it did!

“Thanks for… dropping them off and… keeping the others,” Peter said as graciously as he could as he smiled up at Richard, or tried to.

Whatever he'd managed quickly became a grimace as he suddenly stooped and arched to the right to try and counter one of the triplets’ movements. The move was strong enough not only to warrant the (vain) attempt, but also cause Peter's shirt to hike up higher. He wasn't able to hold in the whimper he ultimately released as a result.

Please… Just gimme five minutes! Peter silently pleaded with his feisty threesome. Five minutes to get rid of your maybe dad, then the three of you can all practice your cartwheels if you want?!

Finally, Richard's gaze landed on his ex's obviously strained and pained face. “Are you… OK?” He cautiously asked.

Peter wasn't sure whether his former husband actually cared or was concerned and honestly, he didn't because it didn't matter. What mattered most at the moment was getting him out of the house and back on his way to his as soon as possible.

“I'm fine,” he forced himself to reply. “Everything is fine,” he nodded as he closed his eyes for a second and imagined himself already plopped down on the couch.

Richard didn't buy what he was so poorly trying to sell. “Why are you pushing yourself so much?” He asked, eyes narrowing. “You're what, a month overdue now?! Christ, you're HUGE, Peter!”

The overdue (though not yet by a month, unfortunately) man nodded. There was no point denying the undeniable. “I have gone a little past my due date, but nothing to worry about,” he switched to shaking his head. “Like I said, everything's fine.”

His usually polished and composed older ex released an uncharacteristic snort. “This has something to do with those ridiculous livestreams of yours, doesn't it?”

“You mean the ones I know you watch?!” Peter retorted, just managing to do so in one breath as he mockingly raised and wagged his brows, which were getting a little bushy and needed to be tended to, he just hadn't had the energy.

Now, it was Richard's cheeks that flushed, though he continued to glare. “You're truly insane, you know that? Now, I feel even more sorry for those kids!” He huffed and shook his head as his eyes flicked back down to Peter's pregnancy. “Thank God, they're not MY problem!”

All of a sudden, something inside Peter broke and before he was able to stop himself, he let out a loud, harsh laugh. To be fair, it was that or a loud, harsh groan…

“You better hope you're right about that!”

Richard's eyes narrowed again. “What're you talking about, Pete?”

Ironically, he only ever called Peter, Pete, when he was being very serious and/or there was something important they needed to discuss, both of which currently applied.

Once more, unfortunately, Peter/Pete missed an opportunity to check himself. “What I'm talking about is that they might be yours!”

He realized his blunder a second too late, eyes growing wide as his flushed face rapidly went pale. Had Richard ever taken the time to think about it, he would've already realized that the triplets might belong to him, but the thought hadn't crossed his mind till now, probably because he hadn't wanted it to…

Sharing five children with a clearly insane ex-husband was enough for him. For the next several seconds, Richard stood there in the living room looking stunned, but then his expression rapidly transitioned to one of fury.

“What the fuck?!” He shouted.

“R-Richard…” Peter stammered as his hands slid down to clutch at the exposed portion of his, maybe their pregnancy. “I…”

“No, seriously! What the ABSOLUTE FUCK, Pete?!” Richard bellowed as he began to pace. “What is WRONG with you?!” He rhetorically asked as he suddenly stopped pacing and took his face in his hands as his chest heaved.

“I'm sorry!” Peter yelled back. It was all he could come up with as he watched his ex-husband freak the fuck out for the first time in a long time. “B-b-but they might be?”

“I should've known you'd go and pull something like this! You'll never change! All you ever do is think about your fucking self!”

Seeing as Richard had brought up fucking, Peter felt compelled to point out, “It's not like I threw myself at you! You…”

“Does Brad, your grocery-stocking, boyfriend know?!” Richard cut him off. “Does he know you've had him running around playing house, thinking he's… responsible for… for this mess, when he might not be?!” He asked as he vaguely waved at his ex's now overly bulbous midsection.

“No, he doesn't…” Peter quietly admitted. “But that doesn't mean I don't care about him!” He nodded as he couldn't help but let out a groan, now really, really wishing to be off his swollen feet.

His contentious ex huffed as he shook his head. “You really are something else! Now, I actually feel bad for the literally poor, sap!” He finished before storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

For as quickly as it'd ended, Peter knew their conversation wasn't over… Thanks to his inability to control his loose lips, he and Richard now had much more to to discuss. Now that he'd let the cat out of the bag, he was probably going to have hell to pay… Richard was an attorney, after all, which meant tenacity was part of his nature. Long and short, that also meant that more than likely, Peter's ex was just getting started…

Now utterly, mentally and physically exhausted, the overdue twenty-eight year old gingerly hauled himself over to the sofa, which he plopped down on hard. His back didn't get any relief with his giant belly protruding up and over him so much, but at least his feet did as he peered over and around his three bumps to the twins, who thankfully, were entertaining themselves with toys belonging to not only them, but their other, not present siblings. For now, anyway…

What a total, absolute, fucking mess… Peter silently bemoaned as he threw his head back.

If he thought things were messy now, they promised to get even worse if he ended up losing Brad…Peter's boyfriend really helped him out, when he let him… If Brad left, he'd be left alone, all huge and already barely able to handle his other five children when they were left in his care in his already, overly overburdened state.

The money… he reminded himself again. All that money makes this all worth it…

As much as he could, Peter just needed to keep reminding himself of that. He had millions headed his way, making all these difficulties worth it, including even this latest development… And yet to get those millions, he needed help, so for a fleeting moment, he considered turning to his viewers.

In his (increasing) time of need, if asked, Peter knew someone would be willing to step in and help as it would garner them “the best seat in the house.” He also knew that putting himself any further out there wasn't a good idea… Peter was so overwhelmed in every category, he didn't have the energy or mental capacity to be as freaked out and panicked as he really should've been.

I'll start coming to terms with and dealing with everything soon, he promised himself as he closed his eyes.

Before he knew it, he was sawing logs, plastered to the couch.

*****

Additional nine million excluded, Peter was making more money than ever… His viewers continued to be as confused as they were daunted and excited since he hadn't bothered to share or explain any of the “how's” or “why's” behind his labor's delay. As such, there seemed to be a nervous energy permeating his increasingly mostly rabid following…

While most of his viewers were initially thrilled that Peter inexplicably remained pregnant, eventually, the charm wore off and everyone wanted and expected yet more from him… He received countless requests to have sex again, but he didn't dare, not having actually meant for people to see him and Brad together in the first place. But Peter knew he needed to do something to keep everyone happy as they not so patiently waited…

His breasts proved to be the answer. Feeling the twins had ceased being an option… Not only were they unable to put even a dent in his now increased output, but Peter couldn't handle them pressed up on and against him while they fed. He ordered a breast pump online but when it arrived, it also wasn't able to deal with all the milk he now produced. What the pump was able to handle only encouraged his overly engorged tits to become even more so.

In only a week, he went up two more cup sizes. Though they were now shelved by his enormous pregnancy, his breasts wobbled and bobbled almost out of control if Peter so much as turned his head too quickly or simply just chewed hard. His poor nipples also continued to grow, both in width and length to try and keep up with his milk production. Painfully full more often than not, the overdue content creator finally caved to the many lecherous comments he'd received from his fans, such as…

Come on, mama… Let those puppies breathe! Let ‘em squirt! You know you want/need to!

Drip, drip, drip…

Soak the screen, Petey! Coat that big, beautiful belly, mama!

Peter begrudgingly convinced himself he was ready and willing to do all of the above. Physically, there'd be no issue but mentally was a different story… As such, when the time came for his big, milky production, he kept the lights in the office off, the monitor providing the only illumination in the room. Peter was in the process of uncupping his hot and heavy left tit when there was a gentle knock on the door before it slowly opened inward.

Gentle as the knock was, he still gasped. Richard had the kids and Brad wasn't supposed to be there for another two hours..?

“Peter..?”

“God damn it!” He grumbled then grunted as he leaned forward as much as he could to pause the stream.

Fortunately/unfortunately, he was just getting started, so he was still dressed, at least to a somewhat believable degree. All Peter had on was a very tight and ill-fitting sports bra and a currently not visible pair of bikini briefs his ass was eating up, making them look more like a thong. His humongous belly was entirely out in the open and now that he'd started messing with them, his tits (especially his left) were dangerously close to spilling free from their confines as well as spilling in general.

Brad squinted as he entered the dark office. “What're you doing?” He asked as he turned the light on. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

Peter tried not to think about how many thousands of dollars he'd just lost out on as he breathily replied, “Just meditating. You're here early…”

“Surprise!” Brad smiled.

“It sure is,” Peter nodded as he made himself smile back.

“The store was so dead today, they cut my hours, which I'm not happy about…” Brad rolled his eyes. “Or I wasn't, till I realized that got me here sooner!”

“Aww, you're so sweet, babe,” Peter genuinely commended, annoyed as he was. “No matter what, you always see the best in things.”

“I try,” his boyfriend smirked and shrugged. “Oh yeah! And I picked up dinner!”

“Yay!”

The mere mention of (more) food immediately brightened Peter's mood and got him genuinely smiling as well as nearly salivating. God, he'd become such a pig!

“I got the whole shebang!” Brad continued with an excited nod, obviously pleased with his efforts. “Appetizers, a main course, of course and desserts! Plural!” He beamed. “It was all going out of date today, but it's still good and…” he paused for effect. “I got a great deal on everything!”

“Good job, babe,” his overdue boyfriend smiled as he gently draped his hands atop his biggest mound, just in front of his other two. Suddenly, all the money he hadn't made didn't matter as much.

What mattered now was food. Ideally, a lot of it. Just as Peter started to get up, something else became significantly more important as Brad went on…

“I grabbed the mail on the way in and you got this,” he said as he held out a large manilla envelope. “Looks like it's from Richard's firm?”

“What?!” Peter snapped as he dropped back down, snatched the envelope and ripped it open.

It was an emergency court summons. Richard had charged him with child endangerment and was petitioning the court for full, immediate custody of the children they already shared, and requesting a paternity test to be administered as soon as possible to determine who the triplets belonged to. As if all that wasn't bad enough, Richard was also asking the court to force Peter to stop doing his livestreams…

“That goddamn asshole!” Peter seethed. “I hoped he wouldn't, but of course he did!”

“What did he do?” Poor, clueless Brad asked.

Peter couldn't tell him. He really needed to, but he couldn't bring himself to as he looked up at Brad from the chair he was pinned back in. He gave a small, pathetically feeble squirm as his thighs started to go numb squashed beneath his behemoth belly.

It was now or never… Peter had to face the music and tell Brad the truth before his boyfriend learned of it secondhand, he it through additional legal correspondence or possibly from Richard himself. Peter had known this was coming for days, he just hadn't wanted to admit it. Richard had come through, proving himself as vindictive as ever. Heart pounding, he bit down on his bottom lip as he tried to work up the nerve to tell as much of his truth as he dared.

“Brad…” he started very slowly, fully aware his life was about to implode while his body was on the verge of exploding. “There's something important we need to talk about…”

“Anything,” his boyfriend nodded.

“It's… about the pregnancy.”

“Uh huh,” Brad nodded again.

Peter took in a breath and slowly let it out before continuing. “So there's a chance that it might be…”

Before he could say anything else, a strong tremor suddenly ran through him, starting at his strained core. He didn't know if it was from all the stress and anxiety or something else. Peter hoped his labor hadn't been triggered… He couldn't give birth now!

“Nnnnnnngggghhh!!!” He grunted as his entire body quaked, belly pushing and stretching out as restless cuffs and kicks manifested all over against its taut surface.

As much as he wanted/needed to be in labor by then, he couldn't be! Peter had to make it through the rest of the month! As he continued to grunt and strain, very much to his relief, he realized the babies weren't coming now… He realized he knew what that felt like, and this wasn't it, but it wasn't just the triplets moving either…

His belly was shivering, pushing and pulsing. Suddenly, there was more of it filling his lap… His belly was noticeably expanding as Peter sat there whining pitifully, doing his utmost not to scream from all the mounting pressure and tension.

“What the hell is happening, Peter?!” Brad asked, clearly alarmed, his bulging eyes pinned to his boyfriend's now extra, extra bulging gut. “W-wh… We have to get you to the hospital now!!!”

“Noooo!!!” Peter roared, sweating pouring off him from everywhere as he clutched his expanding flanks.

He felt… blurry. He worried he was about to pass out. He told himself not to because he couldn't risk any medical professionals getting involved now… If they saw Peter, they'd make him give birth! His belly continued to inch forward as he continually moaned and groaned, fighting to stay conscious.

And then quick as it'd started out of the blue, it stopped.

But by then, Peter was truly struggling to breathe, body drained, belly and tits heaving in and out and up and down as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he looked up at Brad who unsurprisingly, looked utterly shocked. Peter needed to reassure him and fast… He needed to tell him this was normal and that despite the way it seemed, everything was OK, even though it very clearly was not. Problem was, he didn't have the energy to…

Hand shaking, he reached out and grabbed hold of Brad's closest sleeve. “I'm… fine,” he whispered.

Brad looked from Peter's shaking hand to the rest of him. It was evident he didn't believe him.

“I think… I really think we need to go to the hospital now!” He stressed. “What if something's wrong with the babies, Peter?!”

“T-th-they're… fine. Just… particularly… active at the… moment,” the suddenly significantly bigger, overdue man genuinely struggled to get out.

“You just grew! Christ, Peter, you're huge!” Brad uncharacteristically snapped before immediately blushing with guilt. “What I mean is… I think it's finally time. You need to have these babies! This is getting scary!”

It wasn't getting scary, it already was! Weakly, Peter shook his head. “I d-don't have the… the energy to argue right… now,” he panted out.

“I'm not trying to argue, I'm trying to… I…” Brad trailed off. The fact he'd started to push back was a testament as to how extreme (and yes, scary) things had gotten. “You're well past your due date, babe… I think you need to go in and get some help,” he nodded encouragingly.

“I'd be… careful if I were you,” Peter warned before letting out a bitter huff of a laugh. “You're starting to sound like Richard.

Brad's face instantly darkened. Peter knew how quick and easy he could become insecure and while he felt bad, he didn't stop Brad as he turned and stalked off, hopefully to the kitchen to start dinner.

Peter was grateful for the temporary reprieve. Temporary being the keyword. He knew his battle to stay pregnant was only going to get (even) harder from there on out.