Before I Got Here, I Thought The Smell Of Popcorn Was Going To Be The Most Irresistible Aroma In The

Before I got here, I thought the smell of popcorn was going to be the most irresistible aroma in the theater tonight. With these two little gremlins growing inside me, just breathing in the air at the snack booth makes my movie-night-pokerface fall flat... but, this time, I managed to stay strong, and only grabbed a tub of Caramel Kernels. Had I known that what I was getting myself into earlier, coming into the theater and taking my seat, I would’ve left the building altogether. Feet… that’s what got my mouth foaming right now. An entire row of dozens of large, meaty, smelly man-feet, just begging to be worshipped and nibbled on. Who knows why all these guys have their filthy dogs out to air. Honestly, it may just be a lack of home training… but with this extra sensitive nose of mine, I can smell each pair, and it’s making me crazy. My hormones are so out of whack right now, and it’s been so long sense a man has even given me a second glance. I don’t know how much longer I can last before I just start… sucking toes. I feel crazy!

Emilio’s done everything in his power to hide his pregnancy from his mother. Ever since he was little, she told him and his siblings that she refuses to raise any more children… and that, if any of them ever gets pregnant while living under her roof, they may as well pack their bags.

After raising four kids on her own, and struggling to make ends meet, she’s dedicated more than enough of her time and energy to rearing children. Her little ones are all in their late-teens and twenties. Unfortunately, after all this time, she hasn’t had a change of heart… and Emilio is the only one who hasn’t flown from the nest.

It’s been a tough four months, with the extreme effort that he’s put into pretending that there’s not a little human-parasite creature growing inside him… and, even then, he’s lucky to have gone this long without spoiling the secret.

Emilio’s a thin guy… always has been… and his symptoms are pretty extreme. His belly started showing just a couple of weeks into his pregnancy, he’s been gaining loads and loads of weight, eating like a work-horse, and sick with “the flu” for ages. His mom thinks he’s just hit another growth spurt… that his pituitary gland is going crazy, and making him sick… but if she knew about the secret laundry basket in his room — full of oversized shirts and sweatpants — and the anti-nausea pills that he’s hidden around the house, she’d lose her mind.

There’s no way he’d be able to explain the medication to her, or justify his stash of paternity clothes, or give her a plausible reason for why his gut is so big and round. It would take a lot more than just a big appetite to make her son… her scrawny little ‘Milio, with a head full of curls… put on a gut like that.

It’s only a matter of time before his body betrays him, and reveals the truth… and now, all he can do until then is start packing his stuff, and wait for the other shoe to drop.

Sonny's life took a sharp turn for the worse when Emmit — his long-time bully, and academic rival — told everyone that he was pregnant with their math teacher's baby. As if dealing with Emmit's relentless taunting and physical abuse wasn't enough without the new baby, Sonny suddenly found himself thrust into an insane situation... forced to endure even more humiliation and embarrassment.

In the past, Emmit kept his bullying methods pretty simple. He'd tape mean notes to Sonny's back, wipe globules of his disgusting snot and boogers on his clothes, and throw objects at him while their teacher, Mr. Fuller, gave the daily lectures. However, with the raging hormones and emotions accompanying his pregnancy, Emmit's torment of Jake soon escalated to unimaginable heights. No longer satisfied with his old technique, he began to demand that Jake cater to his every whim during math class.

Now, under the watchful eyes of their amused classmates, Sonny is ordered to do whatever Emmit wants him to — kneading away the dry sweat, flakes of dead skin, dirt and grime from Emmit's reeking soles... tenderly rubbing his bloated tummy... kissing and rubbing his protruding belly whenever the baby decides to throw a wild tantrum... licking and sucking on his belly button, just for kicks... wiping away the sweat from his clammy forehead... holding a trash can to Emmit's chin whenever a wave of nausea overwhelms him... and even fanning away the pungent farts that escape Emmit's gassy belly — all while Mr.Fuller turns a blind eye to his torment.

As Emmit's pregnancy continues to progress, and he gets more and more needy, Sonny longs for the familiar feeling of the physical violence that Emmit used to inflict upon him after class. Any kind of beating from his pregnant bully would feel better than the soul-crushing embarrassment he feels whenever he's given a new command. He never thought he would yearn for the days when he was being physically assaulted in front of his locker... but he does, more than anything. He eagerly anticipates the day when Emmit will finally give birth to Mr. Fuller's kid, knowing it might bring an end to his greatest problem.

Unfortunately though, he knows that he'll probably be made to assist Emmit during the birth itself. His heart sinks at the thought of being present for such a visceral and messy ordeal. As he gently massages Emmit's swollen feet — for what feels like the millionth time this week — he fantasizes of the day when it'll all be over... when the old Emmit, the bully who had once reveled in demonstrating his physical dominance over his academic superiors, finally returns.

Quincy’s family hardly recognized the man that stood at their front door when he came back home from his second year of college. Having sent him away a bony, bare-skinned young man, with hardly an ounce of fat on his slender frame, they were shocked to find this… stranger… standing on their doorstep.

This new version of their son… their one and only pride and joy… had gotten a good amount of meat on his bones, covered his skin with expansive tattoos, and grown a very visible baby bump. It was clear to see that this Quincy was midway through his pregnancy… a pregnancy that he had failed to mention to any of his family members.

They knew that he’d had a very rough year, tainted by tremendous academic stress, and an awful experience at a frat party… but, had they known that they’d be met with this new, disappointing iteration of their little boy, upon his arrival home, they would’ve never let him step foot on their porch.

The promising young man that they’d proudly sent away, to a prestigious campus on the other side of the state was gone… now busy incubating a new life, instead of keeping up with his studies.

Gordon and Elise strolled through the aisles of the local supermarket, their shopping cart filled with essentials for the week ahead, and a few extra treats.

As they reached the middle of the cereal and granola aisle, Gordon winced, his hand instinctively grasping at his enlarged belly, as the pain and bloating had finally become too much, paralyzing him in place.

He’d been experiencing the highs and lows of surrogate pregnancy for nearly seven months, and the discomfort was something he’d grown accustomed to. Ever since he had agreed to be a surrogate for his sister and brother-in-law — carrying twins for them — his body just hadn't been the same. He had become incredibly prone to bouts of extreme gas, which were not only uncomfortable, excruciating, and smelly, but downright embarrassing… and, as time creeped on, the pain in his back and hips was only becoming more unbearable, making it hard for him to stand upright. It felt like a storm was brewing inside him, threatening to explode at any moment.

Elise's eyes widened in concern as she realized what was happening — he was backed up with gas again, and unable to walk. Without hesitation, she pulled Gordon to a secluded spot in the aisle and stood behind him. Passersby stole curious glances at the unusual sight of the couple… but Elise paid no attention to the stares, her focus solely on alleviating Gordon's pain.

With practiced hands, she lifted his shirt, exposing his swollen belly to the other shoppers… her touch gentle and reassuring. The severity of his bloating was visible from outside of his womb — his taut skin looking as solid as a boulder, and the tiny bubble of air bulging from below his navel. Elise began to massage big, soothing circles into the sides of his belly, her palms firm yet tender. She knew how to alleviate the blockages in his back and hips, gently rubbing in circular motions to ease the trapped gas down and out.

As she massaged his belly, a sense of calm washed over Gordon, his tense muscles slowly relaxing under her touch.

Suddenly, a loud, thunderous noise reverberated through the aisle, causing a few nearby shoppers to turn their heads in surprise. Elise didn't flinch; she knew what was coming. With a mix of pride and amusement, she watched as Gordon tensed every muscle in his body, and released a monumental fart that echoed off the shelves.

The stench hit her like a tidal wave, strong and sour, but she didn't bat an eye. After months of being his rock during the ups and downs of pregnancy, a fart like that was nothing to Elise. She chuckled softly, unfazed by the noxious cloud that surrounded them…

My dad’s been pregnant with my little brother for what feels like ages now. I swear, with my senior year of high school finally coming to an end, it has to have been at least a year since he and my step-mom conceived the little dude. Ever since he told me that I was going to be a big sibling — the one piece of news that I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear — he’s had this weird, overly-determined attitude… like he refuses to let his pregnancy get the better of him. I just don’t get it.

Despite the fact that he’s only nine short weeks away from giving birth, he’s still adamant about working hard — unwilling to sit down and give his body the rest that it needs. No matter how much his doctor tells him to take some time to relax everyday, and let nature take its course, he never heeds their warning. “A sitting man is a useless man.” He always says. “I’m not useless… just pregnant.”

He’s been outside all afternoon, fixing and re-installing the porch light by the front door. The man who can’t even get up from the couch without taking my hand and counting to ten… the man who needs therapeutic belly rubs, just to fall asleep comfortably… is currently up on a tall ladder, playing around with electricity… all because he refuses to swallow his pride and let my step-mom hire a professional repair guy. Here I am, watching him from the ground, making sure that he doesn’t topple over, and injure himself again. Man… look at that belly. Dad’s huge!