Where does the time go? It seems like only minutes ago you were the new expectant mom, the center of attention, and the ruler of all you survey. Now you are just a girl with a big belly.
It's been a fun week. You've been able to gobble just about any girl you wanted, when you wanted. And they volunteered for it. You goosed two of the top girls at the school while you decided which one to eat, and got thanked by your meal. You just have never had such a wonderful time.
But time does pass, and you are now last week’s fashion. The meals walk around you now. Maybe they don’t try to eat you, but you have to catch your food, and you are slow, thanks to carrying Beckie around. What a downer.
Time for Beckie to come out. It’s been fun having her in your womb. You have been rubbing your belly and happily cooing to her for ages now. But that time is ending, fun tho it was.

So to your room where you plunk down on your bed, and then fend off Rickie. “No. I’m going to birth Beckie, not play with you.”

“All the more reason.” Rickie counters, “A little sex loosens you up and Beckie will slide right out.”

“Where did you hear that?” you challenge, “From some boy I bet.”

“Well, yes,” he concedes, “but that doesn’t mean it is wrong, even if I’ll enjoy it a little too.”

“A little?”

“OK, a lot. But we tried it on Beckie when she birthed you, and it worked.”

That doesn’t sound right. “Beckie dear, is Rickie right?” You describe Rickie’s idea to her.

“No,” she denies. “I said no. But he could be right.”

Confronted with the evidence, Rickie confesses “OK, I didn’t do Beckie then, but it should work, and it will be fun anyway.”

“Well, it’s not like we have done it before… and I guess I could use a little pleasure today. It’s not been much fun so far, and birthing is work…”

Rickie is already at work before you can actually say yes, kissing your lips and bountiful breasts, while his hands search out your womanly center, which proves sensitive to his caresses, and then damp and needful. It is not at all long before you are the one begging instead of him. Not that he lets you beg long. His soldier is at attention and then on its way into your hot wet sheath. You hear a gasp from Beckie. Once again, Rickie is doing two for the price of one.
Or maybe he is doing two for the price of ten. Rickie is experiencing a series of climaxes, massive explosions. You and Beckie have no grounds for complaint, but Rickie is just coming and coming. It’s pure fancy, but you begin to wonder if there is a danger of Beckie drowning.
If there is anything to his idea, you ought to be open enough to let Beckie just slide right out and he must be pushing her back in now. But now he finally quits and you start to push Beckie out.

You grunt and push and “Your idea is so much junk. This is hard…impossible.”

Rickie disagrees. “You are doing fine. It was much harder for Beckie.”

“How could it be?”

“Trust me. I saw Beckie birthing you, and you are doing much better that she did. So just keep pushing.”

You are not convinced, but what else is there to do? And so you push and suffer agony for what seems like hours, and for nothing. Then suddenly you realize Beckie is now on the floor in front of you, and you are saying, as Beckie had, “My Baby, bring me my baby.”