Holy moly ladies, your stories were so funny! The Ranger-like dad having more pregnancy symptoms than his wife took the cake! I have to say, as a group we all have to have had the biggest babies ever. When my second son was born weighing over 10lbs, I was told he was the biggest born there for the previous two months. Some of yours were bigger yet!

Sorry if the beginning of this is a little repetitive from the end of last week's update. He's still getting used to the idea.

If you catch any errors, I apologize. We were up to the wee hours putting together a massive loft bed for our youngest. In case you were wondering, when Ikea tells you they will assemble your furniture for a nominal price, take it. We're pretty handy and it's still not finished!

Sadly these two aren't mine, I just borrow them and make them do fun and dirty things ;)

RPOV

I'm going to be a father.

I am going to be a father. Me… a dad.

I mean, obviously, that's what I'd been trying to achieve every time that I fucked her, made love to her, had sex with her, whatever you want to call it. That had been our goal all along, but it hadn't ever felt like it was just for procreation's sake. I know that it had been more than that for her too. Probably, that was the reason for the little bit of distance she'd wedged between us these last few weeks. Stephanie had never been one for breaking the status quo. She wasn't a stickler for order, but huge changes in her life made her anxious. She was dealing with the shift in our dynamic pretty well, but I was keeping my revelation to myself. She already knew I loved her. She just didn't know that I was in love with her and I wasn't planning on telling her anytime soon.

Early Thanksgiving morning I let myself into her house. She had found a recipe online for a supposedly foolproof turkey roasting experience and had planned on getting up at seven to get the bird in the oven. I was surprised to find that the house was quiet and still. I headed up the stairs and pushed her door open. She was out cold, face-down spread-eagle on her bed. One of my t-shirts on her sleeping form (I had no idea she had so many of them) and it had ridden half way up her back. Her luscious ass, right there, covered by a tiny pair of panties, just begging for me to bite it. Giving my head a shake, I crossed the room and stroked a finger down her face. She sighed and stirred, but didn't open her eyes. I couldn't resist anymore and kicked off my shoes, climbed in beside her and pulled the blankets up over us. Steph snuggled right in and slung her leg over me. Making that contented hum she makes into my neck. At the risk of sounding pussy-whipped, this was the most comfortable I'd felt in the three weeks since I'd last been in this bed. It was just something about how she fit against me; that made everything… fuck… perfect.

Jesus, do I have it bad or what?

She tensed and stretched and hummed again. "When did you get here?" She mumbled.

"Just now. I thought you were getting up early to cook the turkey."

"I am." She stretched again. "What time is it?"

"8:00."

She sat bolt upright. "Shit! I have to get up!" She fought with the blanket for a second. "The turkey has to cook for nearly six hours!" I climbed out of bed and followed her downstairs and into the garage. She opened the fridge and I was a little amazed by the massive turkey inside. There was only twelve of us eating dinner here. That thing looked like it could feed thirty, easily.

She was still only in my shirt so when she bent to grab the damn thing I got a little hypnotized by her ass. Her grunt as she tried to pull the tray out of the fridge snapped me out of it and I stopped her with a hand on her back.

"Go, put some clothes on, Babe. I'll handle this."

"I got it in here," she said defiantly.

"Now I'll get it. Go put something on your feet at least." She huffed and gave me a watered down glare. The urge to kiss her was so strong right then and she must've seen it on my face. She backed up a step, cheeks flushed a deep pink.

"Um, can you just bring it in and leave it on the counter, I'll be, uh, right down." I nodded and she disappeared through the door. Grabbing the pan, I heaved it up and got it into the kitchen as she bounded back down the stairs, slippered and sweatpanted. Still with my shirt on and, shit, still no bra. I had noticed before we even got the test results last week that her boobs were a bit bigger, slightly spilling out of her bra as I helped her get free of her pants. I knew now, after spending the last week studying every pregnancy book available, that they were only going to get bigger. That even as early as this week, she was going to be exhausted, she was going to feel the urge to pee all the time and be moody. Maybe even starting to feel nauseous. But those tits were going to taunt me the entire pregnancy. They were my kryptonite when we were trying to conceive, full and firm with perky little nipples, all with the smoothest skin that I just could not stop touching. So fucking lush.

They looked so damn mouthwatering right now, swaying slightly with each of her movements as she bustled around the kitchen, her nipples protruding through my shirt.

"Carlos!" She laughed, "Stop staring at my boobs and come and help me."

My eyes flashed up to hers and I tried to drum up some embarrassment at getting caught ogling, but couldn't manage it.

"Can you cut open the bag and get the turkey in the sink? I have to rinse it and dry it and then rub it all over with butter."

"Okay." That should be enough to get rid of this hard-on. She stood next to me at the sink as I cut through the bag. Gasping she clapped her hand over her mouth as the smell of vinegar and spices leaked out.

"What is all this, Babe?" I looked over at her, noticing that she was turning green. "You okay?"

She nodded, eyes fixed on the turkey. "It's brine. It's supposed to make the turkey taste good." She stumbled back a few steps. "The smell didn't bother me when I put it in there on Tuesday. Can you take the turkey out and rinse it, then dry it off?" She pointed to the paper towels and left the kitchen in a hurry.

I did as she asked and then went one step further by throwing the liquid the bird had been marinating in, down the garbage disposal. She had a roasting pan set out so I plunked it in there, scrubbed my hands and went to find her. She wasn't in the living room or study, or her bedroom, her bathroom door was closed and locked and mysteriously silent.

I knocked softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I'll be down in a minute." She croaked, not sounding fine in any way.

"Let me in, Babe." The lock clicked and I opened the door, she was kneeling in front of the toilet. Looking like she was about to hurl.

"You don't need to see this." She moaned, heaving a bit. We'd done this drill the morning after quite a few parties and bar crawls in our twenties. I knew what needed to be done. I grabbed one of her hair ties and pulled her hair into a sloppy pony tail and rubbed my hand up and down her back. The heaves turned into actual upchucking and she tried to push me out of the room. Not only was I not grossed out, but I was feeling like an asshole for my part in her being sick right now.

"Stop trying to get me to go," I told her. She gave up and concentrated on puking. There wasn't much I could do other than rub her back and tell her it would be okay, so that's what I did. When she was finally done, I helped her up and held her around her waist while she caught her breath. She was ghost white and tears were streaming down her face and that feeling of being an asshole for getting her into this increased.

I looked at her reflection in the mirror and caught her eyes. "I'm sorry, Babe." I told her.

She looked incredulous. "For what?" I waved my hand in the direction of the toilet. She just rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Just another little reminder that I am in fact knocked up." A small grin appearing on her lips.

"Another reminder?"

"Yep. My boobs are killing me, I have to go and get new bras, all my old ones are too small and I'm falling out of them. I meant to go last night, but by the time I got out of work I was freaking exhausted and I came straight home instead." She sighed and straightened up. "Okay, you can let go now. I have so much to do!"

Her color was returning to normal, but I still didn't want her to overdo it. All the books had said that the next five or six weeks would be very physically draining for her. I watched as she grabbed her toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth. "I'll make you a deal. You tell me what to do with all the food and you sit and relax."

"You? You are going to cook? Get the hell outta' here. I'm fine now. I actually feel really good," she said, looking pretty bouncy.

"I can cook!" I argued as I followed her down the stairs.

She turned around and stopped me with a hand on my chest. Her new favorite gesture. "You have a five meal repertoire, all of which include some type of steamed vegetable and some type of fish. This is Thanksgiving, every dish is supposed to be loaded with butter and other yummy things. I'm fine now." She turned and cautiously approached the turkey. It was just sitting there innocuously, waiting to be roasted. She stopped three paces from the counter, staring at it.

I stood behind her, looking over the top of her head. "What?"

"The smell." She whispered. I couldn't stop the grin that broke out.

"Go sit at the table and tell me what to do." I dug through her cabinets until I found some crackers and handed them to her. "Put something in your stomach, it's supposed to help. I can't believe how much trouble our little bean is giving you already." She took them and plunked herself in a chair on the far side of the table.

"Bean?"

"The books say that he or she's about the size of an apple seed or lentil right now and in two weeks he'll be the size of a bean. It's what I've been calling the baby in my head ever since I saw that."

She grinned at me. "You really are excited about this aren't you?"

"I really am," I agreed. We grinned goofily at each other for a beat. The urge to kiss her was back with a vengeance. I cleared my throat and looked for a distraction.

Oh, yeah, the turkey.

"Alright, tell me what I'm doing with this thing."

She walked me through the process and I felt pretty accomplished when I slid it into the oven. She stood and stretched and slowly approached me. Stepping closer she leaned forward and sniffed my shirt. "At least you still smell good to me," and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Thank-you for taking care of me." She reached up and kissed my cheek. My eyes sliding closed at the sensation.

"It's your job to cook our baby," I said, letting my hand slide down her belly. "It's my job to take care of you. I'm going to run to the store for a few things. Do you need anything for later?"

"Yes! There's a list on the fridge. I'm going to hop in the shower. See you in a little bit?" I nodded, she tiptoed up and kissed my cheek again and I turned and left before I joined her in that shower. It had been nearly three weeks now since we had last had sex and I was jonesing for her, big time.

Crazy isn't it? Nearly thirty years of friendship and hardly ever a lusty thought, well, except during puberty… and my early twenties. What? Steph had never had an awkward growth phase in her life. She's beautiful, inside and out. Four days filled with sex and I can't stop thinking about it now. I think about her as soon as I wake up in the morning, and last thing at night. She's even starred in my dreams.

Fuck, pussy-whipped might be too mild a term for what I got going on here.

I mean, here I am in the grocery store at 9:00 am Thanksgiving morning with the other last minute shoppers, getting all the stuff she forgot and needs for today, and searching for every product with the word ginger in it. I pulled up the pregnancy app I had just put on my phone and bought every food item they suggested to help with morning sickness. I really didn't like seeing her being so sick this morning.

By the time I got back to her house, she was showered and dressed in jeans and her Rutgers football jersey, ready for the post-dinner family football game.

"What's all this?" She asked as she started pulling out items from the bags. "You are so cute, you know that?" She held up her ginger ale and ice pops and gave me that smile.

Fuck, I love her!

She was standing close, so I pulled her closer and just held her there. Gratified to feel her melt a little into me, hugging me back just as tight. I released her and took a reluctant step back.

"Okay, what other smelly things do you want me to do?"

"Nothing yet. Let's get all this put away and go watch the parade." She said.

I was surprised when, instead of her taking the opposite side of the couch like she usually did, Steph sat herself so close to my side that she was almost in my lap. I wrapped my arm around her and rested my hand on her hip. She flicked the TV on revealing some presenters all bundled up and sitting outside of Macy's in Herald Square, blathering on about whatever boy band was headlining the parade. I paid them no mind, my brain was entirely focused on the woman curled up next to me. My hand wormed its way under her jersey and to just under her belly button, trying to detect the slightest difference. Smirking to myself when her breath stuttered when I touched her.

Without really thinking about what I was doing, I wiggled my fingers under the waistband of her jeans. Her hand landed on top of my wrist, stopping any further downward motion.

"What are you doing?" She whispered tremulously.

I looked at her, her face inches from mine. "I just want to see if I can feel anything."

"You're not going to feel anything yet." She countered.

"Lay across me?" I asked, patting my lap. "I want to see." That earned an eye roll but she did as I asked. She sucked in a breath when my fingers slipped under the clasp of her jeans. My eyes flew to hers and she smiled weakly at me. I unzipped her pants and pushed the two sides away, just making out the top of her underwear.

Shit, those are the ones she wore the first time we were together.

Focusing on what I was supposed to be doing, I flattened my hand just above her pubic bone, behind which sat our tiny baby. It was disappointing that there was no outward sign of it, but soon enough there would be indisputable proof.

Her hand came to rest on top of mine and I looked up at her beaming face. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling, and she looked so fucking pretty and happy. All my guilt from this morning slipped away, because I helped her get this way. Moreover she had asked me, not anyone else, me. And I was so glad that she did.

"We made a baby together." I whispered. She bit her lip and nodded. Her fingers squeezing my hand still on her belly. "I still can't believe it. I mean, I know he's in there, but… you know?"

"That's what I meant about reminders this morning. Unless I accidentally bump my boob, or I guess we can now add smelling something weird, I don't feel all that different." She squirmed a bit and tugged at the cup of her bra through her jersey.

"Can I?"

"What?"

"Take a look." Motioning to her breasts.

She sighed and shifted again. "Yes, just try not to touch them. It's such a bizarre sensation."

"I'll be careful." And I was apparently masochistic. I'd get to look at, but not touch my kryptonite. Using both hands I lifted her jersey up, careful to not come into contact with them. They were a little bigger than they were last week, fuller. I broke my promise almost immediately and very, very gently traced a new blue vein on the slope of her right breast. She sucked in a breath and my finger lost contact with her warm skin. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Her eyes were darkening, I knew her well enough to recognize what that meant. "No." She whispered. Emboldened by her reaction I touched that same finger to that sexy bulge over the edge of her bra. She sucked in another breath, but didn't move away from my touch this time. Her cheeks flushed darker as she watched me. I hooked my finger into the cup and tugged it down, letting her breast pop out. I might have whimpered.

Very gently, I traced her nipple with my fingertip. My mouth actually watered, watching it draw tighter and hearing that hum slip out of her mouth.

I heard a key scrape in the lock one second before my second mother's voice echoed from the foyer. "Guys, come and help me get the stuff out of the car."

"Be right there." Steph called as I tried to get her boob back in her bra. She smacked my hand away and put herself back together. I trailed behind her and headed out to her mom's Buick. Getting a big hug from the little lady, I made sure to keep my lower body far enough away from her to prevent accidental contact. There are some things that mothers don't need to know, like that her daughter had just made me rock hard simply by letting me sort of innocently feel her up.

It was really weird to be 34 years old and feel like we'd just been caught making out on the couch by our parents.

"Can you get those bags, Carlos?" She asked, patting my cheek when I nodded. "Be careful with the one with the milk, the handle is fraying." She turned to Steph. "You sure you're okay? You look flushed."

"I'm fine. How come you're four hours early?" Steph asked, grabbing one of the bags out of my hand.

"I wanted to help you. You told me last night how tired you've been this week," she told Steph. She hoisted a bag over her shoulder and headed inside. We exchanged a wide eyed look. Ten minutes later and Steph's mom would've interrupted much more than just me touching her breast.

We had agreed that we would stop having sex after we conceived, but just because my brain knew that, didn't mean my dick, and yeah, my heart, knew that too. Shit, at this point, my brain wanted to ravage her as well. Evidenced by the fact that my eyes were so busy watching her ass as she ascended her front steps, that I tripped over the curb and nearly face-planted on her front walk.

"You okay?" She called from her porch.

"Yep. Fine."

She waited for me to climb the steps and popped up and kissed my cheek again. "Who knew you were so clumsy."

We were in the kitchen together a few hours later, having a whispered conversation on the timing of our announcement.

"We should tell everyone when we do the whole 'what we're grateful for' thing." She said.

"You know that's going to lead to an hour long demand for an explanation. We should wait until after dinner."

"I'm too nervous, I won't be able to eat. I want to get it out there. They're going to be happy though, right?"

"Yeah, they are. Are you kidding?" I snorted. "My mom has been trying to get us together since 4th grade."

"Mine too. The not dating thing is going to kill them though."

Goddammit, every time she says something like that, my stomach fucking plummets.

"Yeah," I agreed. Swallowing hard.

"Stephanie, where are the… Is everything alright?" Steph's mom bustled in and asked. We were standing very close together, Steph's hands worrying the rubbery number on the front of my jersey, my hands on her lower back. "Something's up here, tell me." Her eagle eyes swept from Steph to me and back again. She stepped forward and put her palm on Steph's forehead. "You're sick aren't you? Oh my god, you have to tell me."

"Mom, stop, you're being ridiculous. I'm fine. We were just talking, that's all." Steph stepped away from me and opened the fridge. "What were you looking for?"

Helen's gaze drifted between the two of us for a beat before I saw awareness wash over her face and she shook her head minutely. "The napkin rings. I wanted to know if you have napkin rings."

"Yeah, they're in the sideboard. I'll show you."

I leaned back against the counter and took a deep breath, pretty sure that her mom had just figured some part of us out. We didn't usually cuddle and whisper our conversations to each other.

Hope that was enough sweetness for all of you, quick go brush your teeth and come back and review!

I don't know about all of you, but when I was preggo, my biggest complaints were my insanely tender boobs and really, really bad heartburn. Do you know how many times I heard that my baby would have tons of hair? He was bald and smooth as a cue ball! Silly old wives tale!

Let me know what you thought, pretty please?

Thanks for reading,

Love,

EA xoxo