Relief Needed!

It's unbearable. Everywhere you go, you get the pregnant lady spiel.

Oh, my goodness you're glowing! How many months along are you? Hahaha, you look about ready to pop!

Did everyone have to rub how big you were in your face like that? It been kind of nice at first, when you just started showing and your family was so excited for you. No one had been entirely convinced that you and the werewolf you'd brought home would actually be able to have kids. Low and behold, not a year later, you were round with his "pups" and clearly a mama-to-be.

But now you are just about ready to get these babies out of you. As you were currently carrying twins, you were huge. Not to mention constantly swollen and sore in ways you'd never imagined you could be sore.

Werewolf woman were said to be able to carry up to five babies at a time with no issue. You weren't a werewolf though. You were a human, and so all the trouble of being pregnant with triplets was yours to bear without any supernatural assistance.

Everything made you feel fatigued--everything. Even sitting.

As happy as you were to bare the young of your lover, being pregnant was becoming a torment. It would be over in mere weeks, and after this you'd probably look back on these days of being big and think 'well, at least I got some sleep back then!' But right now, you were content to simmer in your current misery.

Today's problem? Your breasts hurt.

They were so very tender that wearing a bra felt like putting on a hot iron cage, but being without one made them feel so heavy. They're the tenderest they've ever been in your life, feeling like they might just pop, and you've been trying very hard to keep how uncomfortable you are to yourself. Even you get sick of hearing yourself complain all the time.

The last thing you want is to bother your husband, when he works so hard all day, and he's gone at sea for so many weeks (sometimes months) at a time. You're lucky you've even gotten him as long as you have recently. You knew the trouble of falling in love with a sailor--a soldier at that--and you'd gone and done it anyway, which had both been one of many highlights in your life and a place of deep longing.

Even when he's home, he must be away much of the time, doing his duty for the local outposts.

That means you're home alone most of the time, while the one whose done this to you is out at work. You miss your work, but you've been on bedrest for the last month or so, and it's driving you to a madness of boredom... and it also makes you miss your lover dearly.

Lately, the only thing that gave you any comfort at all was his big hairy body. Your werewolf was actually remarkably shaggy, with pale hair all the thicker on his chest and arms and back, especially when he let his transformation relax, and he became a beautiful white wolfman--a true and honest monster.

To the world he was a fearsome but just hound. To you he was still your husband, be he man or wolf-man, and a big cuddly husband at that. Warm and strong, and big enough he could cover your whole person. You might tease him that he was a giant weighted blanket made just for you (and could also conveniently rub your back too!)

Even though he was of a severe temperament, he was also one of the sweetest and gentlest men you've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And for you, he might transform and let you use him as you saw fit to relieve your body aches.

This constant kindness was another reason you tried not to complain too much about your current discomfort. There wasn't anyone else alive you would go through all this for, and he made sure to tell you he appreciated it.

(Though you knew he was already scheming about how soon he'd get you this big again. The man was insatiable!)

But really he works so hard, you don't want to bother him with all your aches and pains. This is why you've kept your breast issues to yourself--it's not like there's anything he can do to help you with them anyway, even if you did tell him.

It would have remained a secret struggle to, if you hadn't started suddenly leaking while you were laid on his side and reading a quiet evening away. It was a nice night, a time a little while after dinner on a day he hadn't had to work late all while the smoke from his burning cigar filled the room with a warm musky scent.

Your husband is a simple man. He liked a good cup of coffee and a calm house. He said being home was always a break from the noisiness of his platoon, which (having spent some time in their company yourself) you could attest to. You liked the quiet to, and preserving the peace of the home was one of your major concerns now that you didn't have much else to do.

However, secretly you were feeling rather grumpy and had been all day thanks to your aches. You were reading, put flipping pages in a slightly irritated manner, and the contents of your book barely kept your attention.

Startling you, he called your name, a little concerned, "Did you spill something?"

You look down, confused, and see two matching wet spots on your shirt. You can't help but get a little self-conscious, even if it's completely natural.

"Oh, again!" You sigh, then mumble a bit unhappy, "I'm so comfy, do I really have to go change my shirt?"

"I can get it for you." He offers, already rising up to his feet and putting the newspaper to the side. "This is just a bunch of garbage anyway."

But you roll your eyes. "Then you'll get up and it won't be the same. I mean, what the hell! Now I can't even get a shirt by myself--I'm pregnant not invalid. I don't even know why they gave me this insipid bed rest order. You know, if I wasn't human, I'd be fucking fine, but of course I--" Than you shut your mouth, as you realize how you've just burst out.

He is more taken aback than you expect, in fact, he looks a bit offended.

"And?" You ask him, "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I just see that you're upset."

Embarrassed now, you put your book down to and sigh.

"Has this been happening a lot lately?" He prompts.

A bit of defensiveness rises up in you again. "Yes, and what of it? You're the one that did this to me, and if you can't handle that I don't know why you bothered to get me pregnant."

Perhaps it was the tone you used, sharper than you meant for you were feeling bashful about your body doing things you didn't really understand, but his eyebrows tick up.

He does a double take. "What?"

"You heard me!" And tears sprung to your eyes. "You did this to, and I'm leaking, and I ache, and I can't sleep and- and- and- I'm huge!" You hiccup and turn away from him, crossing your arms and huffing. You even dare try and lift yourself away from the arm that is draped around your shoulder.

This is a bridge too far. He'd been having a nice evening up to this point, that is until you tried to remove your skin from his in a fit of upset. You should know better.

He sits right back down and as you seems to move further away, a small warning growl like sound makes you go stalk still. It's not a threat, just something he does. One of those little things about him being a werewolf and you a mundane that still made your hair stand on end.

Most of the time that turned you on, but right now a flicker of fear crossed your mind. A primal sort of unconquerable terror that came from thinking you heard a hungry monster in some dark place, sure that it was stalking you.

"Where are you going?" He asks sharply.

You shrink back. "No where." You mutter back, all your bluster lost, but it's too late for you now.

"I think you've got an attitude with me." His voice is low, not upset, just pointed.

You swallow thickly. He might not sound upset, but you can feel hair rising up on his arms becoming thicker, and you don't dare look at him as he morphs more from man to something beastly. You don't think he'd transform fully in the house, but that's not much consolation right now, when you see his hands and replacing his nails are talons.

These claws don't (not for even a brief moment) threaten your skin in the slightest. But he is quick to identify where your current issues seem to be very obviously stemming from, and he's going to take it into his own hands to soothe you.

Without much ado, he uses one sharp claw and ticks it through the thick hem of the tank top, snaps it, and the fabric falls away. You gasp at this, slightly horrified, before he gruffly grabs up one of your breasts and kneads it just a little. The chastisement you were about to say dies in your throat as a moan. The release of pressure feels so good you think that you might just start crying.

With a watery look, you look towards his wolfish white face to see him staring back with a patient, albeit kind of hungry gaze.

"Does that feel good?" He asks.

Not trusting your voice not to warble, you just make a small nod.

"Now, and I want you to use your words, tell me what you want."

You look down, for shame, then quickly swallow your pride.

"Can you please make you feel better?"

He smirks, flashing the points of his teeth and says, "Of course, sugar, all you had to do was ask."

"Getting all grumpy on me." He comments while making it so you sit up onto his lap, your full breast at his eye level and your big belly between the two of you. If he wasn't so strong, he wouldn't have been able to move you at all. But he was remarkably fit. "You know how happy it makes me seeing you plump and straining, every ache you complain about makes my dick twitch."

He tells you, so brazenly too!

"You should clean up that mouth of yours." You mutter back, then bite your lip when he takes in one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks. You'd always been sensitive, but right now you're so sensitive that's it's painful before the relief makes it better. His teeth sharply brushing against your skin makes you gutturally moan--it always does.

You love his teeth.

He bites your tender flesh a few times, just to feel how they give, and then he pulls back. Rubbing at and pulling on your breasts in a way that really feels remarkably relieving.

"Look how fucking good you look." And he's looking at you without a moment of lost heat. "Who did this to you again?"

"You did." You moan back.

"Say it again."

"You d-did." You whimper.

"Damn right I did." He growls back. "I bet that pussy misses me making you this way, doesn't it?"

You nod. You did want him.

One of his hands retreats to slip between you and he slips his cock out from his pants and slides it against your unseen slit. Your belly is so big that he can't really see what he does, though he can feel how wet you are underneath your dress.

"Look how big you are, I can't even see my cock. Still feel how much you want me though." Then he chuckles. He's in not so different of a state. You can feel how hot and hard he is against your skin. "Can I put it in?"

At that, you bite your lip. You want to, you really want to, but you're really not sure if you should. He catches on a moment later and nods.

"You're right. We can ask later." He quickly moves on, "I just want to feel good with you."

You might get a little scared by him sometimes (how could you not when you married a monster?) but you trust and love him. The thrill in loving him was your complete trust in him, even though he was a muster. He grabbed your hips, and pushed you a little more up his chest, than helped you start rocking them back and forth so that you could feel the head of his dick hitch on the edge of your most sensitive place.

Taking to rubbing yourself on his shaft, you begin to rut best you can onto him, with your breath becoming a more pleasurable kind of huff than it was earlier.

"That good?" He checked in one last time, and your meekish kind of pleased sound.

"Yes." You admire.

You can feel him smile and his grip on your hips gets more secure as he starts to slip himself between your lower lips a little faster than you can. Honestly, you can't stay upright in this position very long, so you cling to him, and shiver and shake. It feels so good that you drool even, and cry his name in his ear softly as his pleasure becomes a bit more obvious on his breath.

"Can't last." He puffs and you grab around his neck.

Putting your lips to his ears, you whisper. "Cum on me."

He shakes a bit, digging his nose into your shoulder as those words push him over the edge. He spews all between the two of you, humping a few more times until you're both feeling sticky. He huffs and rubs your back and while you're leaking now out of all your holes in one way or another, your nipples, your mouth, and your pussy.

And yet, you feel good and satisfied.

As uncomfortable as you were for now, you would probably get pregnant again if he wanted you to. But from now on, you'd be taking him up on this "relieve your stress" thing you suddenly realized he was more than happy to offer.

As you catch your breath, and so does he, you pull back and see on his face a sheepish kind apology starting to form. All this had been kind of sudden.

Before you can say a word, you kiss him softly and he turns a cute shade of pink.

"Don't worry, that was just what I needed too."