Sleepovers At Macks House Have Only Gotten More Exciting Since I Accidentally Got Him Pregnant. Just

Sleepovers at Mack’s house have only gotten more exciting since I accidentally got him pregnant. Just to clear things up, he and I have been best friends our entire lives… and, a few months ago, we went through this experimental phase. You know how it is for guys our age. We tried a few things out, touched each other for a while, realized we didn’t like each other that way… and, at some point during that brief chapter of our friendship, I accidentally knocked him up. Now his folks are upset at him, and think the baby belongs to his ex. Yadda yadda yadda.

Like I was saying though… sleepovers at Mack’s house are one heck of a time now, especially since his parents aren’t suspicious of me. We can do whatever we want, and they don’t think anything of it, just like it’s always been. Whenever I’m at his place, it’s like my hands get stuck to his belly. I can’t keep myself off of that thing. When I walk through the front door and meet him in the kitchen, that’s the first place they go… and then, they’re glued. I turn into a huge mush-fest, cooing and kissing at it, like I only understand baby talk. It doesn’t matter who’s around, either. His parents think it’s the sweetest thing when they see me rubbing his belly. His mom and dad still see me as that snot-nosed little boy their some met in pre-k… and, as far as they know, I’m just being a supportive friend.

When we go down to the basement — where all of Mack’s stuff is — all I do is lay with him in bed and play with his belly, which is way more fun than it sounds. Like, I’ll spend hours just resting my head on it while he eats snacks and plays video games, feeling the baby kick, talking to the little thing, and listening to his stomach gurgle. I lick Mack’s belly button all the time too… just flick my tongue in there, until it starts to cramp. It’s just something weird that I do, to get a reaction out of him and the baby. It’s so fascinating, knowing that there’s a tiny human in there, and feeling it move around — even more so, with it being my kid. Honestly, I still don’t think I fully grasp the whole situation. It doesn’t feel… real… yet.

He and I talk about this whole pregnancy thing like it’s nothing. I’ll ask him how he’s feeling, and when I should come by to take him to his next appointment, and he never treats me like I’m just his baby-daddy. Our friendship hasn’t changed one bit. He’s still cool with me, and I’m the same old idiot that I’ve always been. All night long, he’ll go on and on about how weird his pregnancy is, how his parents are total assholes whenever I’m not around, how gross he feels in his own skin, or how his body is working against him. Recently, he told me that when he farts, he pees a little bit too. It’s honestly really funny, now that I think about it. Every time I hear him fart, or smell one of his silent killers, that means that he’s just pissed himself too. Even funnier, his farts are way worse now. They reek like hell.

I look forward to going to Mack’s place after school every night. It’s so nice that we can still have a good time with one another, laugh like two lunatics, and be ourselves… even in our current situation. In our hearts, we’re still those two little dickheads in the back of the class, goofing off and having a good time. Honestly, if things could just stay like this until he gives birth, I’d get him pregnant a million times.

As Fischer left the baby store, a wide smile stretched across his face. His bright grin rivaling the shining sun, he clutched his swollen belly tightly, feeling an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and pride wash over him. It had been a long and overwhelming day, but he had done it! Fischer had successfully tackled the daunting task of shopping for his unborn baby!

Despite not having any idea where to begin, he carefully picked out a beautiful bassinet and had it put on a "paid hold", envisioning the peaceful nights that his son would spend in it. The soft bedding and rocket-shaped mobile hovering above it made Fischer's tummy flutter. Having claimed the cradle as his own, he bought a cart full of tiny outfits, that would surely make his son the most stylish newborn around.

Naturally, he couldn't resist choosing a single, versatile binkie, to match the clothes that he'd chosen. The fashionista in him went wild when he saw it — imagining the way that it would look in his little one's mouth during moments of soothing. Lastly, and most importantly, he made sure not to forget the most essential item of all — a big box of diapers... enough to last the first few weeks of his son's life. With the most important baby needs taken care of, he proudly walked out of the store, smiling ear-to-ear.

I looked up to my Uncle Miguel when I was younger. He was this hardcore biker guy, who was always getting into trouble, and always on the go. One day, he’d be in Florida, and the next he’d be somewhere in Texas, and then in California. I hardly ever saw him in person, but every time he’d come back up north to visit, it was like I finally had a big sibling to play with.

Growing up as an only child, I always wanted to have a brother or sister. I wanted someone to play, joke, laugh, argue, and fight with… just like Dad and Uncle Miguel did with each other... which is why I’ll never forget the day when Miguel came to my house to tells us all that he was pregnant.

I was only about six or seven when Miguel shared the good news. He was already a few months along… I don’t know how many… and, when my mom let him into the house, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He’d always do that whenever he made a “pit stop” — that’s what he used to call his visits to us. Take his shirt off, sling it over one of the handlebars on his bike, rev up the engine a few times, and walk up to the door like a badass. It was awesome every time! I remember that his belly was the first thing I saw when he walked in… like it was trying to beat him into the house… and his belly button looked like my favorite cinnamon roll cereal.

My mom started screaming with excitement as soon as she saw him, and immediately sent me away to my room. Neither her or my dad told me why Uncle Miguel’s belly had gotten so big… but I already knew what was going on. I couldn’t believe that my uncle, who’d been like an older brother to me, was having a baby of his own… and, even better, I couldn’t believe that I was finally getting that sibling that I always wanted… or, something close to it. In my heart, I just knew that Uncle Miguel was going to stay with us while he waited for the stork to pop his belly open and give him that baby… but he didn’t. After listening to all of the laughter and excitement through my bedroom door, and pressing my ear to the wood for what felt like forever, Miguel just… left. He said his goodbyes to my parents and got back on his motorcycle, without coming to say goodbye to me.

After that night, it seemed like his pit-stops became less and less frequent… and I had to watch my cousin grow up through the screens on my parents’ phones. It took me years and years to get over it, and come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably be an only child forever… but I never forgot that day.

Zach never would’ve guessed, in a million years, that pregnancy would make him so damn gassy. In all his years of hearing the whole “Birds, Bees, and Babies” talk, nobody ever warned him about the gastric side of it all… but, if he’d known that he’d be able to clear an entire room with a single fart, he would’ve thought twice before going out and getting himself knocked up with twins.

Before the babies, Zach was never a particularly gassy guy. He’d burp quite often, and fart every now and then… but his flatulence was nothing to write home about. It wasn’t very loud, or smelly, or noteworthy at all.

His guy friends could all burp the entire alphabet, fart on command, and compete in gas-offs, but he was never able to keep up with any of them. Even at the smelliest of times, he was somewhat nose-blind to the odor of his own brand. That old saying “whoever smelt it, dealt it” couldn’t have been further from reality, for him.

These days, though, with all of the strange foods that he eats, he even makes himself sick, with some of the stenches that come out of him. They always take him by surprise. Nobody ever told him just how awful they could be during pregnancy… but, now that he’s struck big and got a two for the price of one deal on babies, he’s learning that the hard way.

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 pair of twins in his womb — whom he was carrying as a surrogate, for his sister and brother-in-law — kicked with vigor.

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… but, as time creeped on, the pain in his back and hips was becoming unbearable, making it hard for him to stand upright. The little ones were kicking and squirming with such force that it felt like a full-blown soccer match was taking place in his abdomen. Gordon's back and hips ached, and he knew he wouldn't be able to move another step without some relief.

Elise's eyes widened in concern as she realized what was happening — the babies were active again. Without hesitation, she guided 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 tiny kicks and flips were visible from outside of his womb — the impressions of little feet and fists bulging from his skin, like he’d been incubating little aliens. Elise began to rub big, soothing circles into the sides of his belly, her palms firm yet tender. She knew how to alleviate the pressure on his back and hips, easing the weight off his strained back and allowing him some relief from the relentless movements of the unborn babies.

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

Arnold had been eagerly anticipating the night of his school's annual Mr.SuperSenior Pageant for weeks. The excitement that filled the academic hallways was palpable as the male seniors prepared to showcase their unique talents and raise money for local charities. For Arnold, this event held a special significance, as he had been diligently practicing his talent act in his bedroom for hours.

His chosen act was a funny dance routine, to the tune of "Papa Don't Preach" by his favorite pop icon, Madonna… something that should’ve come to him very naturally… however, he faced a challenge that none of his peers could relate to — he was the only pregnant guy in his entire grade… forced to carry his little brother as a surrogate for his parents, who were reaching their mid-50s.

As Arnold wiggled and twirled to the music, in front of his makeshift curtain backdrop, he couldn't help but notice how his expanding belly was making it increasingly challenging to execute the moves flawlessly.

An ex-cheerleader for his school's Spirit Squad, he was used to nailing every move with precision and grace. But now, with a heavy baby bump impeding him, his dance routine had become more of a comedic struggle than a graceful performance.

Despite his initial frustration, he understood that the essence of the Mr.SuperSenior Pageant was laced with humor — blending the elements of sophisticated pageantry with a touch of comedy. After struggling with his routine, Arnold soon came to see his pregnancy as a unique advantage that would undoubtedly add an extra layer of humor to his act. Embracing his individuality, he was eager to steal the show with his unconventional performance, one screw up at a time.