Chapter 1: Introduction
Her long curly red hair sprawled across the white pillow in a tangled mess. The morning sunlight illuminated her green eyes, which flickered with a mixture of confusion and panic. Usually, there were no other sounds in the room, save for her fingers tapping away at her keyboard. But today, the staccato rhythm of her heartbeat resonated in her ears, rising in volume to a deafening level. After all, it was difficult to calm down when there was an entire human being inside of her.
Emily jumped out of her bed and slipped on her loose pink cotton robe.
She shuffled her way to the bathroom, one hand supporting the weight in her belly, the other rubbing away the tiredness in her eyes. Her reflection in the mirror caught her off guard. A stranger stared back at her, one whose body had expanded and morphed overnight. How did she miss it before? All this time, the tiny secret had been growing inside her, and now it was demanding her attention with its sheer size.
The minutes ticked by as she continued to contemplate the unexpected situation, but the more she tried to understand what was happening, the more questions she had.
She needed someone else to see this, to confirm that she wasn't losing her mind. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for. Michael.
"Hey, Em," his voice was groggy, still half-asleep. "What's up?"
"I... I need you to come over," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Something's wrong, Michael. Really wrong."
She could hear the rustling of sheets on the other end of the line, and then his voice, now clear and alert.
"What do you mean, 'wrong'? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"No, no, I'm not hurt," she hurried to assure him, her voice shaking slightly. "It's just... it's just that I woke up this morning, and I'm... I'm pregnant, Michael. Like, really pregnant. Full term."
There was a pause, a moment of silence so long that she thought he might have hung up. Then, "Emily, you can't be serious. How is that even possible? I mean you sure as hell weren't pregnant last night when we went out to dinner. You were just as sexy as ever and no pregnant belly!" He chuckled.
She sighed, her frustration boiling over.
"I wish I was joking, Michael. I wish I could laugh this off too. But I'm not. I'm standing here, looking at my reflection, and there's a baby bump the size of a watermelon staring back at me. So, please, just get over here and help me figure this out."
She slammed the phone down, her heart pounding in her chest. She paced around her apartment, her mind racing. How could this have happened? She was always careful, always responsible. She couldn't wrap her head around it. This was positively supernatural.
She was no stranger to the odd, having grown up in a family that believed in the unexplained, but this was something else entirely. She found herself wishing for her mother's soothing presence, her father's logical explanations, or even her brother's sarcastic humor. But they were all miles away, and she was here, alone, with a baby growing inside her.
She looked around her apartment, seeking comfort in the familiar. Her eyes landed on the painting above her fireplace - a vibrant abstract piece, a birthday gift from Michael. It was a reminder of their shared love for art, for each other.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Michael would be here soon, and together, they would sort this out. They had to.
The sound of the front door opening and closing echoed through the loft, and Emily turned to see Michael stepping inside. His tall, athletic frame filled the doorway, his short brown hair disheveled from sleep, and his blue eyes scanning the room, landing on her.
"Hey," he said softly, closing the distance between them. He reached out, his hand hovering near her belly before dropping to his side. "You look...
different," he finished, his gaze sweeping over her curves. Emily rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah, no kidding, Michael. I woke up like this, remember?"
He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous gesture she'd come to recognize. "I just mean... you're radiant. Glowing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Radiant? Glowing? Michael, I'm not a freaking candle. I'm eight months pregnant overnight."
He held up his hands in surrender. "I know, I know. It's just...
weirdly attractive," he finished, his gaze lingering on her swelling breasts and the gentle curve of her belly.
Emily's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me right now? You're finding this... this situation... attractive?" She gestured to her body, her voice dripping with disbelief.
Michael shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I can't help it, Em. You've always been sexy, but this... this is something else. It's like you're blooming, you know? Like a goddess or something."
She threw her hands up in exasperation.
He approached her and ran his hands over all her curves and starts to get hard.
She notices this and pushes him away. "Not now, Michael. We need to figure this out before we go jumping into bed."
He looks at her, puzzled. "But Em, you're pregnant with my baby. It's hot. And you look so... ripe."
She rolls her eyes. "Ripe? Really? This isn't some damn fruit, Michael. We need to find out how this happened. It's not normal. Also how do you know it's 'your' baby. This isn't natural. It could be an alien baby or even worse a demon baby."
Emily muttered under her breath as she paced around the room, her eyes darting about nervously.
Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Emily, you're being dramatic. There's no such thing as alien or demon babies. We must have missed something, something that caused this to happen so suddenly."
She stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. "And what exactly do you suggest we do now, Michael? Ignore it? Go about our day like nothing's changed?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, of course not. Let me examine you. Take off your clothes and hop on the bed." Michael's voice was firm yet gentle, as if he were dealing with a skittish animal. Emily hesitated, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle. This felt too intimate, too vulnerable. But she needed answers, and Michael was the only one here to give them to her.
She untied her robe, letting it slip off her shoulders and onto the floor. She climbed onto the bed, her eyes never leaving Michael's. He stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze roaming over her body, taking in every curve and swell.
Emily felt self-conscious under his scrutiny, her cheeks flushing with heat. She wasn't used to being examined like this, not by Michael, not by anyone.
As he stepped closer, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the pulse beating rapidly at the base of his throat. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her bare skin, and she shivered, her nipples hardening at the contact.
"Emily," he murmured, his voice low and gruff. "You're so... fucking beautiful."
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "Michael, this isn't... we shouldn't..."
He looked up at her, his blue eyes dark with desire. "I know. I know we should be focusing on figuring this out. But fuck, Em, you're driving me crazy. Your body... it's like you're begging for my touch."
She bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted him, she realized. Despite the strangeness of the situation, despite the questions and fears swirling in her mind, she wanted him.
She wanted his touch, his warmth, his reassurance. She let out a soft sigh as his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her nipples. They hardened instantly, aching for more. He leaned down, his breath hot on her skin, and whispered, "Your body knows what it wants, Emily. It's telling you to let go, to trust me." She felt a strange sensation, a warm tingling in her breasts. She looked down to see milk droplets forming on her nipples, and she gasped in surprise. "Michael, what's happening? Why is this happening?" she asked, her voice laced with panic. Michael looked up at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "I don't know, Em," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But let's find out, together." He leaned down, his tongue flicking out to taste the milk on her nipple.
She gasped, her back arching as a jolt of pleasure shot through her. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he moved to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh, and without thinking, she reached down, her hand wrapping around his hard length through his jeans. He froze, his body tensing at her touch. "Emily," he growled, his voice strained. "What are you doing?" I don't know," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But she didn't let go. Instead, she began to stroke him, feeling him grow even harder in her hand. He let out a low moan, his head dropping to her shoulder. "Fuck, Emily, that feels so good," he murmured, his hips moving in time with her strokes.