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I need him craving more, needing to be filled over and over, until he's just glowing, looking like the perfect little boymom. And when he waddles around in those tight little outfits, trying to hide the roundness but can't? Oof, that’s when I know I've done it right. I’ll keep him close, hand on that belly, whispering, "You’re gonna make such a pretty boymom, aren’t you?" 😩
I won’t stop until he’s the most beautiful boypreg you've ever seen, soft and full, glowing like he's made for this, because he is. We’re not done until every inch of him screams "pregnant for me," and then, maybe, just maybe, I'll finally be satisfied... but we both know I’ll want another. 😤