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THE BLOATED BRIDESMAID
When Lauren set her wedding date, I was already pregnant; I just didn’t know it yet. In my ignorance and as one of her best friends, I immediately agreed to be a bridesmaid. About a week later, I realized I was several weeks late. A pregnancy test and doctor’s visit later, I was positioned to be 7 months pregnant for the wedding. Fantastic.
I should probably mention that I was single. I’d been lonely and irresponsible with a few nightclub hook-ups, resulting in my rather embarrassing maternal condition. Lauren was the first person I told, just managing to apologetically deliver the unfortunate news to her through my sobbing. She was instantly and very comfortingly supportive, treating it as great news: I’d have a baby soon! And dresses could be altered, of course, so it wouldn’t be the problem I feared it would to keep me matching the rest of the wedding party. Sure, I’d have to do an extra fitting or two, probably having to estimate how much I’d grow in the week or two that’d have to separate my final measurements from the wedding. So, really no big deal…on her end, at least.
Nonetheless, I dreaded the wedding day. How embarrassing it would be, standing up there in front of over 230 people, very pregnant and very much alone. I loved Lauren and never seriously considered backing out of my role in her very special day, but I anticipated a waking, sober nightmare of public humiliation and swollen spectacle. The more conservative guests would be scandalized; I hated the idea of taking away some of Lauren’s positive attention with my shameful display. I didn’t share my concerns with the bride-to-be, not wanting to detract from her excitement. It remained a specter of a day that provoked more anxiety in me than the prospect of birth, though. Well after the morning sickness stage of my pregnancy ended, I’d still vomit regularly at the thought of the coming event. Again, I was, to put it very mildly, not looking forward to participating in this wedding.
When the blessed day came and I struggled into my lacy lavender custom-modified bridesmaid dress, I was at least pleased to note that my pregnancy-assisted (and more than ample to begin with) rack managed to protrude just a bit further than my swollen belly. Maybe some people would overlook the bump in favor of the boobs, I thought hopefully. Pretty farfetched and pretty unlikely I’d even be able to tell which round part of me they were gawking at. I’d get plenty of stares and I’d just have to deal with it for Lauren’s sake. I kept up the strongest demeanor I could manage through the make-up and hair-dressing that started the day. No one present that early in the proceedings was surprised by my pregnant body, so I didn’t yet have to weather the gauntlet of eyes I knew was fast approaching.
The wedding party got to the church first and positioned ourselves up front, as was traditional. This way, I was front and center as the guests trickled in; I got to see the surprised look of each and every arriving individual as they got a look at my shamefully knocked-up ass. They stared, openly and unsurprisingly. Staring would be the recurring theme of my day, naturally. As various honored persons made their ways up the aisle. As the pastor delivered his message. As vows were exchanged. As the limousines were boarded. As the wedding party was introduced by the DJ at the reception. As the bride and groom had their ceremonial first dances with each other and their parents. Always. Always the staring. And my designated spot during the five-hour-long reception, as a bridesmaid, was squarely front and center.
I weathered the ceremony, painful though it was. Mere minutes into the reception, I went to sit and talk with a friend in an out-of-the-way table for distant relatives and work acquaintances. It was mostly to get away from my most prominent table, of course, so I wasn’t all that offended when my friend went off to dance with another of her friends after two or three minutes of chatting. I was still sitting at an inconspicuous table, and I’d take my sweet time in remaining there, actively engaged in conversation or not. “Hello there! You’re in the wedding party, right?” I looked four seats to my left to find the only other guest sitting at the table at the moment, a guy who looked to be in his early 20s.
“Busted,” I said, not bothering to hide my tone of displeasure at the situation. He moved to the seat directly to my left and extended his hand.
“Seth,” he said.
I shook his hand, smiling despite myself at being treated so much like a human. “Gina,” I replied. “So how do you know the happy couple?”
He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I work with one of them. Dave, I want to say? Or maybe Kathy? Whoever it is, I heard their wedding would have an open bar and probably some single women. So, here I am!” I laughed. “Do you have to remember their names, being in the wedding party and all?”
I rubbed my conspicuous bump. “Under normal circumstances, probably. But people cut you a decent amount of leeway memory-wise escort izmir when you’re in my situation. ‘Pregnancy brain,’ or whatever they want to call it. A rare perk.”
“Well, at least they cut you slack for something. I’ve seen how much everyone’s been staring at you. They’re really rude; I can only imagine how much it sucks.” He had very kind eyes, radiating empathy.
“You’ve noticed how much people have been staring at me? How do you notice a thing like that?” I attempted a bit of playful teasing.
“It’s easy to notice everyone staring when you’re staring, too,” he responded without an ounce of apology in his voice.
I lowered my head and raised my eyes, glaring at him faux-suspiciously. “So you’re part of the problem, huh?”
“Not part of the problem, I wouldn’t say. They seem to be staring at you like you deserve their judgment, like you should be ashamed of yourself. I just can’t take my eyes off you, baby bump and all. It’s obvious to anyone with a working eye that you’re not comfortable in it, but that dress is extremely becoming on you.” Was this guy hitting on me right now?! I was fairly shocked and hardly knew how to respond to it.
My jaw was hanging half-open. “You’re…”
I paused and he abruptly stepped in, completely unashamed. “Flirting with you, yeah. Is that gonna be a problem?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well…no, not a problem, exactly. A surprise, primarily. Not really the type of attention I’m used to receiving at this moment…”
He frowned and shook his head. “And that is a damn shame. Though it’s ultimately to my benefit, so I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. Even if there was more competition for your attention, though, I’d be right there in the mix, believe me. A beautiful pregnant woman alone at a wedding? You’re a dream come true.”
I blushed and averted my eyes. He was over-the-top, sure, but he seemed sincerely taken with me, and his sweetness was quickly winning me over in turn. “You’re embarrassing me, Seth,” I managed. “And even though I’m alone at this wedding, how do you know I’m available? My husband could just be on a business trip; you have no way of knowing.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “You make a good point, Gina. I don’t know for sure know you’re single. But seeing you here, I knew I had to take the chance. And, at this point, I can probably just ask: are you, by any chance, single?”
I smiled and made him wait 30 seconds before finally nodding my head slowly. “Yes, I’m single. Possibly even more humiliating than being heavily pregnant and unaccompanied in a wedding party, I am a knocked-up single girl, soon to be single mother. Your dream prospect, huh? An uncomplicated pick-up?” I was maybe harsher than I needed to be but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t too easily scared off, even if any attachment we might form was unlikely to outlast the evening.
Intensely, he made lengthy eye contact with me before finally responding. “How far along are you, Gina?”
He was showing genuine interest; I wasn’t unimpressed. “I’m about 7 months,” I replied, rubbing my bump tenderly. “Won’t be too long now. Thank you for asking.” I was warming to him, and I knew he could tell by the pleased glint in his eye.
“That’s third trimester, right? How have you been feeling?” His interest seemed genuine, despite his already having admitted he was hitting on me and this all quite possibly being a pick-up strategy. It was nice to talk to someone behaving so kindly towards me, regardless of the situation; I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.
“Yep, third trimester indeed. And I’m feeling pretty well, thank you for asking. I’m pretty big, as you can obviously see, but not so much so that I’m crazy unwieldy and knocking everything over…yet. I can still fit in most places, you know? So that’s nice, though I know it’s not gonna last much longer. Sore in more places than I can count, as is to be expected. Overall, really excited to be a mom in a few months!” My cheeks reddened as I caught myself sharing more than I’d intended, apparently primed to do so from having gone quite some time without a kind soul paying me this sort of attention.
He’d appeared rapt by my every word, smiling and nodding at every detail. “Wow,” he said once I’d stopped. “Amazing stuff. So…I know you’re unaccompanied today, but…any luck with the gentlemen to speak of?” He gave an impish smile; I couldn’t help but return the expression.
I shrugged. “Who could’ve guessed, but the baby bump actually seems to serve as something of a warning sign to potential suitors. For some reason, the idea of dating someone whose life is about to be drastically altered by a child is not your typical man’s cup of tea. Though…you’re not seeming like the typical man in this regard…”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think I am the typical man here. I’m not gonna pretend I’m signing up today to be a father in a matter of weeks with someone I’ve known for 20 minutes. That’d just be insulting to you, the way I figure it. But you deserve companionship escort izmir and some fun in the moment, both of which I’m more than prepared to provide you pretty much immediately. Are you interested in having a bit of fun? Maybe starting with some dancing?”
I blushed at the mere idea of getting on the dance floor. “I…might be able to be convinced to dance, but I’m not ready for that just yet. Can we talk a bit more? You are absolutely lifting my self-esteem, don’t get me wrong, but being ready to put myself out there in the middle of everything…I’m just gonna need to get a little more comfortable, if that’s okay.”
He nodded, smiling. “Of course, I totally understand. One thing I’m having trouble waiting on, though: can I get a little belly rub in, or too soon for that?” I smiled and nodded, smoothing out the fabric to give the full, round experience of my taut bump. His eyes were wide as his right hand slowly approached with careful reverence; the initial contact he made was about as gentle as was possible while still technically qualifying as contact. I thrust my hips out to push my belly into his palm; he immediately pulled his arm back, a startled look in his eyes.
“Grossed out, huh?” I teased him.
He blushed but laughed, shook his head and put the hand back far more firmly this time; I could feel him pushing through the thin outer layer of fat to my much firmer uterus within. “Not remotely grossed out, no. This feels amazing. I haven’t felt a pregnant belly since…one of my aunts, probably, when she was pregnant with my youngest cousin, I guess. It’s…really, really cool. So cool…” He trailed off, clearly preoccupied; his hand roamed around the bump now, testing the relative firmness of the sides, the top, even down a few inches from where it met up with my crotch. More and more brazen, to my increasing excitement.
His left hand joined the right in his ongoing caresses, which gave me a naughty little idea of where to guide him. “It’s surprisingly heavy: you should try lifting it up, from the bottom.” I wanted to further encourage the liberties he’d begun taking with those delightfully wandering hands of his. Wordlessly but with even wider eyes on his awed face, he moved his hands down to the bottom of my spherical midsection and gently lifted the bump. The tips of his fingers were separated from my pubic hair by a fraction of an inch, just the widths of my thin dress and thinner panties; I couldn’t imagine he knew he was getting quite that familiar, though. He was just following my directions, after all, and what kind of perverted preggo would put herself and a relative stranger in that position?
“Wow,” he finally remarked after slowly moving my belly up and down a dozen times or so. “It’s really dense, huh? Of course it is; I’m an idiot. There is a baby in there, after all. Does it hurt your back, carrying it around all day like that?”
With his question he pulled his hands away from my dress and met my eyes with his, finally tearing them away from the sight of my engorged bump. I smiled, impressed by his sweetness and sympathy. “Yes, yes it does hurt. I ache pretty much everywhere, to tell you the truth. It’s not just carrying around the extra weight right in front. It’s the extra weight everywhere, the swelling everywhere…you name it, by this point in a pregnancy it is sore.”
Disbelief on his face, he shook his head slowly while retaining eye contact. “Damn. That certainly is a shame. I knew it wasn’t easy being pregnant, but I don’t think I really understood the extent of it. Quite the ordeal, then the relaxing payoff of caring for a newborn human 24/7, huh?” We both chuckled.
I nodded, my hands instinctively moving to caress my bump. “Yeah, it’s kinda one gauntlet after the other, can’t deny that. But it’s going to be great. I can’t wait to be a mom, honestly. I know nothing can really prepare you for parenthood, but I’m looking forward to all of it, challenges included. It’s hard to even imagine how much love I’m going to have for this kid.”
He smiled widely. “Well, that’s wonderful. You have a fantastic attitude, Gina. Now, if you’ve gotten a bit more comfortable talking with me…a dance, perhaps?” I stood up as quickly as my gravid-adjacent physique would allow and took his hand as he followed my lead. Still holding his hand, I led him straight to the dance floor. It was a large square of hardwood, and pretty fully occupied. We found a relatively unoccupied space towards the middle and began dancing to the great Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You.”
The way he danced with me was…provocative. Unembarrassedly so, somewhat akin to how directly he’d begun his flirtation with me. He moved in close, his torso making frequent contact with my belly as we moved. His hands sometimes reached around to the small of my back, occasionally brushing against the top of my bubble of a knocked-up ass. Once or twice he even gripped my belly right there on the dance floor. Looking around us a bit, it seemed we were the dancers going at it with the most overt sexuality. Pretty shocking stuff for a preggo; and the shocked faces staring in our direction seemed to confirm it.
To my surprise, I did not give one single solitary fuck about the reaction we were provoking. Now that I had someone so staunchly on board with my single-pregnant-lady-in-the-wedding-party situation, the judging eyes couldn’t seem to penetrate my self-esteem. It was a wonderfully stark contrast to my earlier experiences.
We continued dancing in our unique manner through “Dancing Queen,” “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” and “Love Shack.” Twenty minutes of constant motion having elapsed, I was spent. I took Seth by the hand and led him to my spot at the sparsely occupied head table. I no longer cared to hide out at tables on the fringes of the room: I didn’t care who saw me pregnant and flirting with a stranger.
“Sorry for stopping, but I’m exhausted, Seth. That was so fun, though!” I explained as soon as we were seated.
His face lit up. “Really, you liked it? We were getting quite a few looks…”
I shook my head defiantly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, it was great. Fuck ’em, ya know? I’m going to dance how I want and with whom I want, then I’m gonna come back over here and sit down with him at the head table. Let them look all they want: we make an attractive couple, after all.”
Seth blushed. “Wonderful. You’re just…wonderful. Brave as hell, Gina. Truly. I knew I had to at least try hitting on you about a second after I saw you up there at the ceremony, but I did not for a second foresee such fantastic results. By far the most interesting wedding I’ve attended. I’m sorry to have tired you out on the dance floor, though…”
I patted his knee to comfort him and dismiss his apology. “Not at all, not at all. I get tired all the time, just about anything’ll do it. And I’ve learned to bounce back pretty quickly, so this isn’t the end of my activities tonight by any stretch. I just need a few minutes to sit, have a drink of water, maybe another dose of stimulating conversation…”
He positively lit up. “That I can provide! I hope, anyway. I’d love to learn more about your experience with pregnancy, if that’s an okay avenue for discussion. I’m totally fascinated, if you couldn’t tell by how obvious I’ve been.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I sorta picked up on that, Seth. I can’t blame you: it’s been a really fascinating thing to go through. So…what else do you want to know?” I tried to put a bit of flirtation in my question, a bit of sexual suggestion I hoped he’d pick up on.
He considered for a moment before answering. “Well, you mentioned before the growing and swelling in other parts of you besides the obvious baby bump. If it’s not too personal, could you talk about some of those other parts a bit?”
Maybe I was reading into his question a bit, but it seemed he may have indeed picked up on my hint that things could get a bit more…intimate. “Oh yeah, not too personal at all. Well…” I very purposefully and unsubtly pushed my breasts out to within inches of his face. “There’s these puppies, for starters.” He laughed, slightly awkward-sounding. “They were not nearly so large before, and my milk hasn’t even come in yet. I had an okay rack before getting knocked up, don’t get me wrong, but pregnancy’ll really do wonders for a girl in this regard.” He blushed. “But is that too personal for you, Seth?”
Immediately and adamantly, he shook his head. “No! No, not at all. It’s super…interesting. Just made me feel the slightest bit…shy is all, but I’ll get over that, don’t worry yourself one bit.”
I nodded and continued, lowering my voice a bit for some even more intimate details. “Well, speaking of the girls, my areolas have about doubled in size, as have my nipples. And they’ve darkened by about a dozen shades, too, which is a fun little change.” Seth blushed again, somewhat predictably, but I pushed forward nonetheless. “Let’s see…well, as for more parts that one might enjoy flaunting, my ass and hips have never been curvier. I’m not sure this dress fully does justice to my ass, but maybe you’ve noticed my hips…”
This produced an enthusiastic nod. “Yeah, your hips are amazing.” Happily, I’d struck a nerve, clearly hitting upon something that had already turned him on.
“They’ve got their charms, don’t they? I’ve quite enjoyed them lately myself. Let’s see…there’s the less fun swelling stuff, feet and fingers and whatnot. We can skip right over that if it’s all the same to you. More fun stuff…”
“May I be extremely forward?” he interrupted; I nodded right away. His voice went quieter. “I’ve heard about pregnant women’s sex drives really skyrocketing. Has that been your experience at all?”
I chuckled and matched his low volume for my reply. “Oh boy, Seth, you’d hardly even believe it. Being single, of course, it hasn’t really led to much…with other people. By myself…well, I won’t get too indelicate, but let’s just say I keep myself busy. Very, very…very busy. It’s a pretty constant requirement that I take care of myself, if you catch my not-so-subtle drift.” He blushed, pretty predictably given my directness. “Are you…” I couldn’t quite get my question out.
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