“That’s because you asked them if you could get in and see if it was sturdy enough.” I point at him.
“If my son is going to sleep in it we need to know it’s top of the line.” He gets up, grabbing the pizza boxes. “Anyway, let’s do this whole registry thing and see what happens.” He winks at me and walks away.
“Bring up some of those disgusting pepperoni sticks!” I yell and then send a text to Lauren with the go ahead for the baby shower.
With the amount of meat I am eating, I’m surprised I don’t moo when I walk down the street. “Noah,” I yell from the bathroom. I am now almost nine months. Thirty-seven weeks, to be exact. Noah comes running upstairs, his body slick with sweat from just running.
“What happened?” he asks, coming in, panic in his eyes.
“I’m so fat,” I cry, my hands coming out to my sides. “I don’t even know if my vagina is swollen or not.” I try looking down and see nothing. “See, nothing. I can’t see anything. It’s just stomach. I miss my toes.”
“Babycakes, you look like a goddess.” He comes to rub my huge stomach. “You’re a goddess for my kid.” He kisses my stomach. “And more to come.”
“I don’t think I want another child. I mean, I want more than one, but I’m not sure my body can handle it. I mean, look at me.” I point up and down my body.
“It will be okay. You have a pretty new dress. You will put it on and smile and laugh and eat lots of hot dogs and hamburgers.”
“My whole body looks swollen.” I look down and although I have gained almost forty pounds it is all in my tits, ass, and belly. “You put this baby in me. You need to have sex with me to take it out.”
He looks at me, confused.
“Lauren said if I play with my nipples and we have sex, I might dilate or something.”
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like a piece of meat than now, and I like it,” he says, walking into the shower. “But Lauren just called and she said if we are late she will skin us both alive. Me first, you after you have the baby.”
I waddle—yes, you read right—I fucking waddle over to the bed where I sit down, my stomach feeling like it’s in my throat. I lean back while I pick up the bra that I’m using today. This is one place that went from zero to hero. My nice B cup is now a solid D if not closing in on DD. Putting on my bra and thong, I walk over to the closet we both share now. I grab the blue full-length lace dress with slits all around the legs. Noah comes into the closet with a towel wrapped around his waist. Little drops of water linger on his chest. I lean in, kissing his chest, then step into my dress, turning to have him zip me up. The zip goes up and he kisses my neck after I lean into his chest, turning my head so he can kiss me. His hand goes to my stomach while he kisses me softly on the lips.
“Love you, wife,” he says with a smile on his face.
“Love you, husband.”
He holds my hand gently, softly, securely while we walk into Lauren’s backyard. I stop when I take in the scene. There are more penis balloons than I thought would be possible to have in one sitting. It makes the anniversary party look like child’s play.
“What the hell is all this?” I look around, seeing Lauren with a scowl on her face.
She comes storming over, her eyes shooting daggers at my husband. “I said you can have a couple of balloons. I didn’t say over five hundred.” She looks around as the helium penis floats high.
“Actually there are six hundred and fifty.” He looks at his work with a smile on his face. “The suppliers ran out,” he says, grabbing a drink from the waiter passing by, in the shape of a penis, topped with a penis straw.
“Oh, honey, you’re here.” My mother comes to me as she is wearing glasses with a penis point up in the middle. “These glasses are so funny. Look, I have a penis on my face.”
I take in my mother dressed in a floral dress, with pink sunglasses and penis but what gets me is a wide brimmed hat in a black paper braid material featuring a wired ‘shapeable’ brim, hatband, and bow in a wide, white-on-black polka dot ribbon, white ‘pearl’ accents and an extra-large white rose. “Mom, what is with the hat?” I ask her, confused.
“Oh, this, it’s a derby hat,” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “I didn’t want Noah’s friends to think we didn’t have class, so.”