My Pregnant Wife
An SPH Experience by ElectronicComb2607.
Let me set the scene. My wife is seven months pregnant with our first child. We’ve been married for four years. I love her more than anything. And I’ve always known I’m not the biggest guy in the world. When I’m hard, I’m maybe four inches on a good day, with a girth that’s average at best. Soft, I’m barely two inches, and I’m a grower, so it often looks like I barely have anything down there.
She’s never complained. At least, not directly. We have a decent sex life, though it’s slowed down during the pregnancy because she’s tired and uncomfortable. I’ve been understanding, supportive, all that.
But I’m also an idiot.
I had to go out of town for work for a few nights. We’d just bought this expensive baby monitor for the nursery—one of those Wi-Fi ones with a camera and two-way audio. My wife didn’t know I’d set it up in our bedroom as a stupid prank. I thought I’d scare her by talking through the monitor while she was sleeping, make her think the baby was talking or some dumb shit.
I know. I went to the doghouse for that prank later. But what happened before I even got a chance to pull it was what truly broke me.
—
The first night away, I was lying in my hotel bed around 11 PM. I was bored, a little lonely, and I remembered the monitor app on my phone. I opened it up, expecting to see my wife sleeping peacefully in our bed.
Instead, I saw her awake. She was propped up against the headboard, her laptop open on her belly, her pregnancy nightgown pulled up to her chest. Her hand was moving between her legs.
I froze. My heart started pounding. I’d never watched her masturbate before. We’ve been together for years, but she’s always been private about that stuff. And here she was, seven months pregnant, touching herself while I was hundreds of miles away.
I couldn’t look away.
The camera was positioned on the dresser, giving me a perfect side view of the bed. She had her legs bent and spread, her fingers working her clit. Her tits were huge from the pregnancy, her belly round and full. She looked incredible.
And I was getting hard. My tiny cock was straining against my hotel pajama pants, barely four inches, but rock solid.
I watched her for a few minutes. She was moaning softly, her hips rocking. Then she reached over to the nightstand and pulled out something I didn’t expect.
Our dildo collection.
We have a few. She’d bought them over the years. I always knew about them, but she mostly used them when I was traveling for work, or so I thought. There was a small pink one, about five inches, a purple one that was maybe six, and a big black one that I’d always avoided looking at too closely. It was at least eight inches long and thick as my wrist.
She picked the black one.
My stomach dropped. She lubed it up, spread her legs wider, and slid it inside herself with a moan that I could hear clearly through the monitor’s microphone.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered. “Yes.”
I watched her fuck herself with that massive dildo for the next twenty minutes. She was riding it, grinding on it, taking it deeper and deeper. Her moans got louder. She started talking to herself.
“Fuck, that’s what I need. That’s what I’ve been missing.”
My cock was still hard, but I felt a knot forming in my gut. What did she mean, “what she’s been missing”?
Then she switched positions. She got on her knees, bent over the bed, and pushed the black dildo into her pussy from behind. Her pregnant belly hung down. She reached back and grabbed it, fucking herself deep and slow.
“God, I wish this was real,” she moaned. “I wish I had a real cock this big. Just once.”
I felt my dick soften. The thrill of watching her was being replaced by something cold and heavy.
She kept going. She pulled out a second dildo—the purple one—and lubed it up. Then she did something I’d never seen her do before. She pushed the purple one into her ass while the black one stayed in her pussy.
Double penetration. By herself. With toys that were both bigger than me.
She was moaning, gasping, her body shuddering. And then she started saying my name.
“Tod… oh fuck, Tod… I wish your dick was this big…”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
She continued, her voice getting louder, more desperate. “I love you, Tod, but your dick is so small. Fuck, you’re so small. I need this. I need this so bad.”
She was crying now, tears streaming down her face, but she kept fucking herself with both dildos.
“Your tiny little cock can’t do this to me. It can’t fill me up. It can’t make me feel like this. Oh god, I’m such a bitch, but I need it. I need big cock.”
I sat there, completely frozen, my phone trembling in my hand. My little dick was now completely soft, shriveled to maybe two inches, hiding in my pubic hair. I felt pathetic. Humiliated. And somehow, intensely aroused.
She switched positions again. This time she lay on her back, legs spread, and pushed the black dildo deep inside her pussy while the purple one stayed in her ass. She started bucking her hips, fucking herself with both hands.
“Fuck your dick is so much better than Tod’s,” she gasped, over and over. “So much better. So much bigger. Fuck me. Fuck me with that big cock.”
She came hard. I watched her whole body convulse, her pregnant belly shaking, her thighs trembling. She let out a long, low moan that turned into a sob. The dildos slipped out of her as she collapsed onto the bed, panting.
I kept watching. She lay there, legs wide open, both dildos still inside her but slowly sliding out. Her juices were all over the sheets. She was a mess.
And then she fell asleep. Just like that. Out cold, with cum and lube dripping down her thighs.
I sat in my hotel room, staring at the screen. My tiny cock was completely hidden, a pathetic little nub between my legs. I felt an overwhelming mix of emotions—shame, arousal, jealousy, humiliation. And a strange, dark thrill.
I had recorded the whole thing. The app saves footage automatically. I didn’t plan to, but I had. And I couldn’t stop watching it.
I jerked off to it that night. I came in about thirty seconds, shooting a weak little load onto my hotel sheets while watching my pregnant wife cry out for a cock three times my size.
—
The next morning, I flew home. I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen. The words echoed in my head: “Your dick is so small.” “So much better than Tod’s.”
When I walked in the door, my wife was on the couch, reading a book. She looked up and smiled.
“How was your trip?”
“Fine,” I said. “Uneventful.”
I should have left it alone. I should have deleted the footage and never spoken about it. But I couldn’t.
That night, after she went to bed, I sat in the living room and watched the recording again. And again. And again. Each time, I felt my tiny cock get hard, then soft, then hard again. I couldn’t stop.
The next morning, she found me asleep on the couch with my phone in my hand. The app was still open. The recording was still playing.
She saw it.
I woke up to her screaming.
“What the fuck is this? Tod! What the fuck!”
I sat up, groggy and terrified. She was holding my phone, her face white, the sound of her own moans coming from the speaker.
“I… I set up the monitor as a prank,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to? You watched me? You recorded me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She threw the phone at me. It hit my chest and clattered to the floor.
“I can’t believe you. I was vulnerable. I was pregnant and alone and hormonal and you fucking filmed me?”
Her voice broke. She started crying. I reached for her, but she pushed me away.
“Don’t touch me.”
She grabbed her keys and walked out the door. I sat there, alone, my phone still playing her voice from last night: “Fuck your dick is so much better than Tod’s.”
—
She came back two hours later. She’d been driving around, trying to calm down. We sat at the kitchen table, and she told me everything.
She told me she loved me. She told me she’s never cheated on me, never even considered it. But she also told me the truth.
“Tod, your dick is small. It’s always been small. I’ve never said anything because I didn’t want to hurt you. But I’ve been craving something bigger for years. I thought having a baby would make me feel more satisfied, but it’s only made me hornier. And I can’t help what I think about when I touch myself.”
I sat there, my tiny cock soft and hidden in my jeans, listening to my wife explain that she needed bigger dicks to get off.
“You’re a good husband,” she said, crying. “You’re a good father. But sexually, I’ve been unsatisfied for a long time. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I should have been angry. I should have been devastated. And part of me was. But another part of me—the part that had been feeding this humiliation fetish for years—was thrilled.
I reached across the table and took her hand.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” I said.
She looked at me, confused.
“I mean it,” I said. “I’m sorry I recorded you. That was wrong. But now I know what you need. And I want to help you get it.”
She stared at me.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying… if you need bigger cock, I’m okay with that. I’ll watch. I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you need.”
She was silent for a long time. Then she said, “You’re serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious.”
And that’s where we are now. She’s still processing it. I’m still processing it. But last night, she asked me to pull up the recording and watch it with her. We sat together, me with my tiny soft dick, her with her pregnant belly, and we watched her fuck herself with those giant dildos while she moaned about how small I am.
She held my hand the whole time.
When it was over, she looked at me and said, “I love you, Tod. But I need more.”
I know what’s coming. I know she’s going to want to experience the real thing. And I’ve made peace with it.
My tiny cock is never going to satisfy her. And for some reason, that thought makes me harder than anything else ever has.
The End.
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