Chapter 11: Bigger And Better

Marcy and Paul stood facing towards each other on the footpath directly in front of the diner entrance. They had finished their refreshments. Paul had even plucked up the presence of mind to down the cup of coffee he'd ordered. Though neither one of them felt like the matter of Marcy's secret pregnancy had been resolved, it seemed that between them they had said everything that needed to be said.

"So..." Marcy said in an uneasy tone that had a sense of finality to it. This was all so familiar to her. It felt exactly like the awkward farewell they had shared after they had spent the night comforting each other following Karen's funeral.

"You parked near the office?" she inquired, realizing that it was pointless to try to muddle their way through a goodbye now if they were only going to have to walk the same route together for the next couple of minutes.

"Uh, no, I'm parked in the parking lot down the street," he pointed.

"Oh, okay," Marcy responded with a cheery nod. That meant he was headed in the opposite direction.

"You need a ride somewhere?" Paul asked, misreading Marcy's reason for asking.

"Oh, no," Marcy smiled politely, "My place isn't that far."

"Oh," said Paul.

It seemed they had run out of pleasantries.

Before he left, there was one last thing Marcy needed from him: confirmation. Confirmation that he wouldn't go making any trouble for her; that he wouldn't screw up the arrangements she'd made by trying to claim custody of his baby, or that he'd make her life hell by letting the cat out of the bag about her pregnancy. He'd fallen enigmatically quiet in the diner when she'd revealed her arrangements for a private adoption. Marcy had taken this to be a good sign. After all, she had in essence solved this enormous problem before it would even fall upon him.

But all the same, for her own peace of mind, Marcy needed to know for sure that he was leaving her today in a spirit of cooperation.

"I can walk you home, if you like?" Paul offered before Marcy was able to ask her question. He seemed uncomfortable, like he had only made the offer because he didn't know what else to do.

"Uh ... yeah, okay. That'd be great," Marcy agreed with a friendly smile. As eager as she was for this unpleasant reunion to be over and done with, it was best that she try to stay on good terms with Paul, so rebuffing his polite gesture probably wasn't the smartest choice. Besides, there was still a fair degree of foot traffic passing them by on the main street. That would quieten down as they drifted into the residential area, which meant she would be able to speak to him more openly about respecting her decisions and privacy.

Marcy turned around and led Paul down the street.

Paul tried not to let it show, but watching Marcy waddle by his side still put him on edge, as did every reminder of her pregnancy like the belly and the appetite. Finding out he'd carelessly fathered a child was not a shock he would quickly recover from.

They walked together in awkward silence until they stopped at the first crosswalk. Both of them avoided eye contact with each other. Paul, in fact, was avoiding eye contact with everybody.

"So..." Paul began, searching for a way to cut the tension as they waited for a couple of cars to pass through. "Nice town you've got here."

Marcy stifled a chuckle. "Yeah, it's ... nice," she agreed with a hint of sarcasm. It wasn't wise to talk too disparagingly about the town as there were a couple of locals standing nearby.

"Yeah. It's very ... very..." Paul tried to stretch out the conversation as they continued moving again.

"Oregon?" Marcy looked over at him with a sly smirk. She was surprised to see him actually smile for a split second – the first time he'd done so since he first noticed her baby bulge.

"I was going to say 'peaceful'," he clarified. "But 'Oregon?' Very Oregon ... yeah, that fits," he chuckled.

The other pedestrians who'd been with Paul and Marcy quickly outpaced them.

"Peaceful? Fast asleep, more like. But hey, it's not like there was any point looking for a town with a great night life, you know? I just needed some place to stay until I got through this," she said while rubbing her belly. "Some place where nobody knew who I was, and where nobody would remember me after I left...

"Besides, the parents are only a couple towns over. About a 20 minute drive," Marcy told him.

"Really? I thought your family was in Arizona?" Paul asked.

"My parents? Oh fuck no!" Marcy corrected him with a horrified tone. She glared at him with humorless eyes and patted her belly twice to hint him towards the correct answer.

"Oh! The ... right! Sorry. Stupid," Paul excused himself with a playful slap to his head, realizing that Marcy had meant the baby's adopting parents.

"Yeah, they kept dropping all these obvious hints that they wanted me to settle somewhere nearby. They like to be involved in the 'process, '" she said, holding up her hands and talking in a mocking tone as if to imply the parents had some screws loose. "They like to be there for all the sonagrams and Lamaze classes and stuff. They bring me over for dinner a couple times a week.

"Actually, they're really nice," Marcy clarified in a far more thoughtful tone. She immediately felt guilty for poking fun of them a few seconds earlier.

"Wow. That's great," Paul said. "So are they gonna be there for the ... uh, when you..." he asked, struggling to say the word 'birth', though doing his best to substitute it with a gesture of his finger that implied the contents of her belly dropping out between her legs.

"Yeah, they want to be there for that, too," Marcy replied in a solemn tone.

Paul nodded silently.

"Good," he responded in a quite voice, almost a whisper. "I'm glad you won't be alone," his voice was 100% sincere. Even though Marcy had given him a free pass out of becoming a dad so early in life, Paul couldn't escape the realization that he had done this to her. He had a theoretical grasp of how painful childbirth was for a woman. Even though his relationship with Marcy was distant at the best of times, Paul hated the thought of her going through that suffering all alone, with no company or moral support. Especially seeing as he was as much to blame for it as she was.

They looked at each other and Marcy smiled.

"Thanks," she said.

Paul smiled briefly in return.

"You must be pretty close to your office," Paul noted after a lengthy pause, having mentally gauged their position relative to her workplace.

"Yeah, that's the other reason I moved here: everything's in walking distance," Marcy commented. "Well, at least it was at first."

"You don't have a car?" Paul inquired.

"Well, yeah, but I try to walk unless my legs are killing me, or it's too far away. I like to think I'm doing what I can to stay in shape. I know it's a losing fight, but still..." she lamented.

"Well, I think you look great!" Paul complimented, with reflex-action speed. Kind reassurance was such a consistent trait of his, often it was hard to believe he was being sincere, even though he always made it sound like he was.

"Pfft. Yeah, thanks Paul!" Marcy scoffed.

"No, really!" Paul assured her.

"Come on, Paul! I look like something Goodyear would fly over the Superbowl!"

"No," Paul argued, more assertively than before. "For a 31-weeks pregnant girl, you look fantastic!" He looked her body over thoroughly, to prove that he wasn't simply telling her what she wanted to hear. As he did so, he was surprised to discover just how true his kind words were.

All things considered, Marcy was incredibly attractive for a girl in her state. Apart from the belly, she hadn't seemed to put on much additional weight, if any. He'd know several women - family members, neighbors, etc., who hadn't been able to get through their pregnancies without packing some extra baggage onto their arms, thighs and faces. For Marcy to avoid this pitfall was impressive!

Even her large belly: when Paul made an effort to 'mentally blank-out' what a scary discovery it was, he felt she carried it very nicely.

A broad smile washed over Marcy's face.

"Thanks, Paul," she said, in a far more flattered tone than before. "It's nice to hear stuff like that."

She looked over at him, and noticed that his gaze was stuck on a particular part of her anatomy. Well, two particular parts, to be precise. She couldn't help but smile at his fascination.

She remembered that Paul had shown an extra special affection for her breasts during their erotic trysts. How was it he'd described them? "Pretty fucking impressive?" Well, if he loved them back then, no doubt he was in awe of the way they had been enlarged by her pregnancy. Marcy could relate; watching her already-sumptuous boobs grow into a bust that would shame Pamela Anderson had been perhaps the only enjoyable aspect of this whole exhausting ordeal.

An idea sparked in Marcy's brain and a sense of feistiness came over her that she hadn't felt in ages. She leaned over close to Paul and spoke at almost a whisper.

"F cups!" she informed him proudly.

It took Paul a moment to process what she was saying to him. But all of a sudden he understood, though he could hardly believe how she'd bluntly volunteered that information.

"Really? Wow!" he replied, at a loss for any other words. He was no expert on bras, nor categorizing breasts by size, but he did know that "F" was a pretty big deal.

"Mmm," Marcy hummed in confirmation with a sly smile. "Wanna see 'em?" she asked in the same hushed voice.

Paul almost tripped over.

"Wha ... seriously?" he asked, copying her hushed voice.

Marcy nodded.

"Well ... sure!" Paul agreed with a delighted grin, still struggling to believe what was happening.

"Okay," Marcy said. She surveyed her surroundings carefully. By now they had wandered in to the town's modest 'industrial' area.

After a few more steps, they came to the corner of the cream-painted building they'd been passing. It seemed to be a whitegoods repair shop. Marcy suddenly grabbed Paul by the hand and pulled him into the asphalt alleyway between it and the next building.

"What? Here? Are you serious?" Paul asked incredulously.

Marcy's only answer was an emphatic nodding of her head and a beaming self-satisfied grin. She handed him her purse.

"Holy Shit!" Paul chuckled. He was almost as amused as he was anxious.

He gazed in awe as she peeled her purple sweater off of her fruitful belly, away from the two rich bulges above it and finally up over her head. She took her time in removing it, almost as if she was merely stripping off a layer because she felt hot. Paul realized that she was teasing him and that only made his anticipation, not to mention the danger of getting caught, and thus the thrill, grow stronger and stronger with every second.

She handed him the sweater without a word then slowly drew her hands back to the uppermost buttons of her lemon-colored blouse. Her eyes curled upwards to shoot a mischievous gaze squarely at Paul and she bit gently into her lower lip, forming the smirk of a girl who knew she was being bad and enjoyed it. With agonizing patience, she undid the first button, then the second, then the third.

Paul's heart crept into his throat as her sinking neckline began to reveal the swollen boundaries of her cleavage. It began to pound like a tribal drum when he first caught sight of the pale blue fabric of her bra cups and grew even more furious when he saw the segment of strap that held the cups together.

As her liberating hands began to round the curvature of her belly, Marcy spread the sides of her blouse apart to give Paul a better view of what she'd uncovered, but there still wasn't enough slack in the blouse to give him a really good look at the treasures within. She continued onward while Paul looked on, frozen with suspense.

She had just released the last button above her navel when suddenly her smooth, teasing demeanor collapsed like a house of cards. Had Paul been looking at her face, he would've seen that her "naughty girl" smirk had been replaced by a look of panic. She fumbled desperately with the button she'd just undone.

He had been so transfixed by her little exhibitionist display, it had taken him a minute to realize what had happened. But soon enough, he recognized the sound of footsteps coming down the street, closing in on them with frightening speed.

Marcy eventually managed to feed the first button through its hole before dashing up to the next one and making a similarly clumsy effort to redo it. She soon twigged that there was no way she had enough time to completely rebutton the blouse before whoever was coming discovered them.

"Shit!" she quietly cursed as she snatched her sweater from bewildered Paul's hands.

With speed that would make The Flash envious, Marcy pulled the sweater back over her head, and navigated it down around the loosened edges of her blouse. By the time the stranger – a young man maybe only a couple years older than themselves - sauntered past the alley end, all that was left was for her to straighten out the hemline and free her ponytail from the collar.

Marcy and Paul flashed the man a polite smile and a nod. The quizzical look he returned revealed that he was suspicious about what a guy and a heavily-pregnant woman were doing just standing around in an industrial alleyway. But he said nothing and his pace didn't slow.

They both remained where they stood, until the man's footfalls faded into silence. Then they turned to each other and broke down in restrained laughter.

"Oh my god!" Paul exclaimed, "Oh Jesus Christ, that was close!"

"I'll say!" Marcy agreed. "Let's ... Let's not try that again."

Paul could appreciate Marcy's reluctance, but he couldn't help but feel extremely disappointed. He had almost gotten to see two of the most amazing natural wonders conceivable, and in the blink of an eye that opportunity had been lost.

"We're not that far now. Come on!" Marcy told him with a spritely smile.

Suddenly Paul's spirits were lifted. If he read her tone right, it seemed like Marcy hadn't cancelled the show, but merely decided to take a brief raincheck until they could get to the privacy of her home. He hoped; he hoped with all his will that he was right.

Regardless of whether it was the excitement of almost being caught, or the eagerness to show off her grand assets, something had lit a fire under Marcy. Her pregnancy waddle had quickened considerably as she proceeded through the final leg of her journey. Paul happily matched her pace. He spent virtually the entire trip covertly admiring her splendid bust, tearing his eyes away for only brief intervals to check the path ahead for obstacles.

They didn't speak a single word until Marcy pointed to a quaint little house with a blooming front garden and declared, "This one, here." Nonetheless, the chemistry between them the entire time was electric.

She retrieved her keys from her purse as she marched quickly up the front stoop and made short work of the door lock. Paul was close behind her as she entered the cozy living room/dining area and closed the door behind him once they were both inside.

Marcy turned around and looked Paul right in the eyes. They both still bore half a smirk from their close encounter only moments ago. Her heart was racing from the excitement and the rushed journey back home. She exhaled a single deep breath before the sweater came off for the second time. It was an unceremonious reveal compared to the last one. Much of what Paul had gotten to see earlier was visible between the wide gap between the two halves of her blouse.

She casually tossed the sweater at her feet, then resumed the deliberately slow unbuttoning of her blouse, almost as if the interruption had never happened. After 3 more buttons, the gap in the blouse seemed to be loose enough for her purposes. She tugged at the left collar of the blouse, skewing the opening so that the entire left cup of her plain cotton bra was on display. Then without pause, she pulled the gap over to the right, to show off its twin.

"Whoa. Those are huge," Paul uttered in a daze. Though in truth, he was less captivated by the size of her bra then he was by the portions of exposed skin around its edges. The curvature of Marcy's upper breasts had expanded significantly since he'd last been with her. The shadowy slit of her cleavage looked almost big enough to hide a credit card inside.

Marcy said nothing as the exhibition continued. It took some effort, but she managed to suppress her urge to grin at his compliment about the size of her puppies. She pulled the left-hand strap of her bra off her shoulder, until it drifted down her arm a ways. The cup was loose now, but not enough to fall by itself. Slowly, she slipped her fingers into the cup, deeper and deeper. When it seemed she could go no further, she grabbed hold of the pliant behemoth of womanhood inside and gently lifted it out of its enclosure.

A wave of pins and needles washed over Paul's body as he watched her flesh bow so willingly beneath the pressure of her fingers. Yet the highlight of the mound remained hidden in her palm. He ached to see her breast in its entirety; every second Marcy stalled felt like an eternity. But the prize was more than worth the wait. Her hand peeled away and dropped gently to her side.

The change to her nipple had been even more radical than her boobs' growth. Paul had always thought that Marcy's nipples seemed really undersized for tits that were so large. That was by no means a bad thing – in fact there was a cuteness to them that was part of her bust's overall attractiveness. They had been soft pink in tone in a way that hinted very effectively at how velvety smooth they were to the touch.

But now, like the breast itself, the areola Marcy had exposed had grown considerably. It was more in line with what Paul thought would be an average nipple-size-to-breast-size ratio for a woman, judging by what he'd seen in porn and Playboy. Its color was a rich maroon, reminiscent of a juicy plum, which clashed sharply with the complexion of the surrounding breast. The nipple itself was far more raised than Paul remembered them being. It made her entire chest look like it belonged to a completely different woman.

Yet at the same time, Paul knew that wasn't true. He knew that the breasts before him, both the one he could see and its concealed twin, were the same heavenly soft mounds he had adored at length during that mixed-up night in the motel room. He knew that these were the same tits he had blissfully coated with his hot fluid after they had repeatedly kissed his cockhead with their supple caress.

They may have lost their "cuteness" factor, but what Paul could see of Marcy's chest was just as gorgeous as ever. Her already large tits had now ripened; they had become 'more' of what they were. Whereas Marcy's regular bust was passively sexy, her pregnancy breasts exuded a strong sense of vitality. These magnificent melons no longer simply enticed adoration from wandering eyes, they demanded it!