Olympic Labor (Patreon)

Patreon-exclusive

Peter stood beneath the warm shower, letting the water cascade over his broad shoulders and down his muscular back. The sound of the water interrupted the silence in the empty locker room. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he ran his right hand through his short, dark hair. The water relaxed his tired muscles, but his mind was elsewhere—focused on the rhythmic tightening of his swollen belly—and his left hand splayed wide across the taut expanse of his abdomen.

He caressed the stretched skin tenderly, feeling the warmth of his body radiate back through his finger. At nine months and four days pregnant with triplets, his abdomen had stretched to its limit, forming a large, rounded dome that jutted out in front of him. He gently moved his right hand to hold the underside of his belly, where the weight of his triplets pressed heavily against his pelvis. The babies were active, shifting and turning within him, their movements causing ripples across the surface of his taut skin. His left hand rubbed soothing circles at the side as a mild contraction made him wince. 

He breathed deeply, letting the water soothe his tense muscles. He let out a slow exhale, leaning forward against the cool tiles with one hand as he braced himself against another wave of pressure. The contractions were getting closer together, but Peter had learned the art of breathing through the pain. He had to; this was the biggest day of his life. The Olympic Games. The culmination of years of training, dedication, and sacrifice. He wasn’t about to let a little thing, like being in labor, stop him from competing.

Another contraction began to build, low and deep, spreading like a wave across his abdomen. He groaned loudly, his hand automatically following the tightening and his fingers pressing against the firm ridge that formed as the contraction peaked. His legs trembled as his body responded to the pressure. The sensation was becoming all too familiar—these surges of pain that gripped him at irregular intervals, stronger and closer together as time passed. He knew it meant his body was preparing for the birth, but Peter refused to let the pain stop him.

He had expected to get into labor and give birth to his babies before the Olympic Games started. But here he was, having contractions only minutes before the first qualification race. His doctor had assured him that the triplets would come out earlier, right on time for him to compete without the big belly on the way. But his baby boys seemed too comfortable inside him. Despite the unusual circumstances, Peter had made a deeply personal choice to compete even with his four-day overdue belly on the way. He knew the risks and the challenges, but he had never been one to back down from a race.

As the contraction passed, Peter slowly opened his eyes, his gaze dropping to the expanse of his belly. He could see the faint outlines of his babies’ movements beneath his skin, tiny feet, and elbows pressing out as they competed for space. Peter smiled softly, caressing the swell with both his hands. “Hang on in there, baby boys,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Only a few more minutes. We’re almost there.”

Another contraction hit, making Peter suck in a breath, his hands instinctively tightening around the curve of his abdomen. The contraction was stronger this time, and he could feel his belly harden like a rock beneath his palms. A low groan escaped Peter’s lips as he bent slightly at the waist, trying to ease the discomfort. His entire body seemed to react to the intensity—his chest heaved, and Peter felt a sudden warmth spread across his pecs. He looked down, water running over his body, and saw the thin streams of milk beginning to bead on his nipples. Then he saw that his nipples started to leak profusely, with steady streams of milk trickling down his chest.

He closed his eyes and quickly composed himself, determined not to let anything distract him. He was so close to the start of his race, and he needed to focus on it. However, a warm sensation spread between his legs before he could turn the water off. He frowned, puzzled by the unexpected feeling, as he looked down, only seeing his pecs and round belly. Peter chuckled, feeling ridiculous for attempting to look between his legs when he hadn’t seen his feet in this position in months.

The water dripping from his body made it difficult to tell, but something felt different about the warmth. However, the clock was ticking, and he had little time to waste. Shrugging it off as another side effect of the late stage of pregnancy, Peter turned off the water and slowly stepped out of the stall, taking a deep breath and grabbing a towel to dry himself off. He moved slowly and carefully as his belly swayed with each movement.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, just beneath his belly, Peter waddled toward his locker. The towel barely covered his thickened hips and fuller ass, both of which had changed considerably throughout the pregnancy. His steps were heavy; each one felt labored, and the weight of his belly pulled him forward. He glanced at the mirror as he passed, catching sight of his reflection. The swimmer he once was, lean and chiseled, was still there, but now, with the added bulk of pregnancy, his belly was round and protruding far in front of him. His once finely sculpted muscles were now thicker and softer but no less strong. He ran a hand over his side, feeling the curve of his hip, admiring how his body had adapted to accommodate the life growing inside him.

When he reached his locker, Peter sat down with a heavy sigh on the bench where his swim gear was laid out. The simple act of lowering himself to the bench caused his belly to press against his thighs. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he picked up his Speedo, which had been altered to stretch around his thicker waist. The fabric looked impossibly small in his hands, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous situation.

“Come on. You’ve got this,” Peter muttered to himself. Then he sighed, knowing this would be one of the hardest parts of his pre-race routine—getting into his Speedo.

Peter braced himself as he stood up again, the movement making his belly shift, and the babies inside reacted with a flurry of kicks. He breathed deeply, trying to ignore the persistent tightness in his belly. Peter started by sliding the Speedo up his legs. It quickly became apparent that his thicker thighs and hips represented a challenge. He grunted softly, the fabric stretching tight as he worked it up over his thighs, every inch a struggle as it clung to his skin. His butt, rounder and fuller, made the task even more difficult.

His belly jiggled slightly with the effort, and he had to stop several times to catch his breath, resting a hand on his lower back to ease the strain. Then he paused, his hands gripping the waistband as another contraction gripped him, making his belly harden. Peter closed his eyes, slowly exhaling as he waited for the pain to subside. He couldn’t afford to lose focus, not now. The contraction then subsided, and he continued his struggle to put on the Speedo.

With a determined grunt, he tugged the Speedo higher. He gritted his teeth, using both hands to shimmy the fabric inch by inch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps until he finally managed to get it over his hips. The Speedo sat low on his waist, the waistband digging into his skin. He adjusted it as best he could, though the fabric strained, hugging his body tightly in a way that was far from comfortable.

Peter leaned back against the lockers, breathing heavily. Sweat was beading on his forehead despite the cool air of the locker room. He reached down, placing both hands under his belly and lifting it slightly to relieve the pressure on his pelvis. However, another contraction hit, and Peter leaned forward slightly, his hands on his knees, as he waited for it to pass. His body felt heavy, weighed down by the three lives growing inside him, but he was determined not to let it slow him down.

With the race about to start, Peter grabbed his swim cap and goggles, tucking them into the waistband of his Speedo as he headed out. His steps were slow, his hips swaying from side to side as he tried to keep balance. The pressure between his legs was growing more intense, but Peter ignored it, focusing instead on the goal ahead. He couldn’t let anything distract him now, so he put on his swim cap and goggles.

As he approached the pool, Peter couldn’t help but notice the other swimmers warming up, their lean, perfectly sculpted-for-speed, toned bodies looking ready for gold. They were loosening their muscles, preparing to give it their all in the water. Peter couldn’t help but feel a bit envious as he looked down at his body, his belly heavy and round, a stark contrast to his competitor’s flat, toned stomachs. He sighed, knowing that his chances of qualifying were tiny with the extra weight slowing him down, but he couldn’t help but smile as he rested a hand on his belly.

“At least we’re here,” he whispered to his babies, feeling them respond with kicks. “We’re going to do this together.”

Peter lifted his head and looked around, his smile widening when he saw a pair of beautiful green eyes in the first row of the audience. He knew those eyes very well—the eyes that captivated him and left him in his current condition, the eyes of his beloved and overprotective husband, Rob. His husband had insisted that Peter couldn’t compete, but the swimmer had proved why their baby boys were so stubborn—they were just like Peter. The babies didn’t want to come out, and Peter didn’t want to lose the race. He was there to prove something to himself, to Rob, to their babies, and to the world. He was going to compete, no matter what.

“You can do this,” Rob said slowly, knowing Peter would read the words on his lips. Peter nodded and waddled toward his designated spot.

As Peter took his place on the starting block, the other swimmers were already in position, and he felt their eyes on him. They knew his story, of course. They knew he was competing despite his pregnancy, but seeing him like this, belly full and taut, was different. Some exchanged looks of concern, while others watched in silence, unsure of what to say. He ignored them all, focusing on the water in front of him. The pool seemed to stretch endlessly, making him briefly doubt if he could swim the 100 meters.

Peter took a deep breath as he tried to mentally prepare for the race ahead. His hands rested on his belly as he whispered a silent promise to his babies. “We’re going to do this together. Just a little longer, and we’re going to the hospital.”

The official gave the signal, and the swimmers began to crouch into position. Peter tried to do the same, struggling to get into his starting stance because his belly got in the way, making it difficult to find a position that worked. His belly pressed against his thighs, and the weight of it was hard to balance. He groaned softly, adjusting his stance as best he could, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. Then, when another contraction hit, stronger this time, Peter couldn’t suppress the loud groan that escaped his lips. The pain was intense; his body was clearly ready to give birth, but Peter wasn’t ready to stop.

The swimmers on either side glanced over, concern etched on their faces, but Peter hid his discomfort with a firm nod, trying to reassure them—and himself—that he was fine and that he could do this. “Come on, come on,” he repeatedly muttered to himself, trying to ignore the pain as he waited for the signal to start. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his entire body was tense with anticipation. The contractions were coming one after another now, each one stronger than the last, but Peter refused to let them stop him.

Finally, the buzzer sounded, signaling the start of the race, and Peter launched himself into the water. He kicked off the wall with all the strength he could gather, his powerful legs propelling him forward as he dove into the water with a loud splash. The cool water enveloped him, providing a momentary relief from the relentless pressure in his belly. But the relief was short-lived. His belly felt heavy in the water, dragging him down as he tried to maintain speed. The babies inside him seemed to react to the sudden movement, shifting and kicking more vigorously. Their little bodies pressed against his ribs, making it hard to breathe.

Peter gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on his stroke as his arms cut through the water with practiced precision. His legs kicked as best they could, but the weight of his belly made it difficult to move fast. He could feel the strain on his back and the pressure building in his pelvis as one of the babies got in position to come out. The contractions intensified, each one coming faster than the last, but he pushed through the pain, his focus alone on reaching the other end of the pool. Each contraction forced him to try harder and swim faster to complete the race. The other swimmers didn’t matter; he only wanted to finish before the first baby came out.

His breath came in ragged gasps, each stroke requiring more effort than the last. His back was starting to ache, and his hip bones felt ready to crack. Every second felt like an eternity as the contraction came so quickly that he could barely breathe. But he refused to stop. He refused to let his body give in. He had come this far and wasn’t about to quit; he intensified his effort instead. He had to finish—he had to make it to the end.

As Peter started the final lap, the pain became almost unbearable. His vision blurred, and his muscles screamed in protest, but he forced himself to keep going. He could feel the baby moving lower, and the pressure in his pelvis and ass was becoming almost too much to bear. But the end was in sight, and Peter was determined to reach it. With a final burst of energy, Peter propelled himself into the last few meters, his arms and legs burning with effort. He could feel the contractions coming one on top of the other, his belly tightening so much that he wouldn’t move if he weren’t in the middle of one of the most significant moments of his life. He couldn’t stop. Not now.

With one final push, Peter touched the wall, finishing the race. He barely had time to register the sound of the buzzer before a pain, unlike anything he had ever felt, tore through him. He cried out, his body finally giving in to the intensity of his labor. His voice echoed through the pool area, drawing the attention of the emergency staff. They rushed to his side, pulling him out of the water with surprising ease and helping him lay back on the floor by the pool.

Peter could barely focus; his vision was blurred by the pain as the baby quickly approached the exit. He instinctively bent his knees to get in position to give birth, against the staff’s advice that he had to wait for the ambulance. But Peter’s body couldn’t wait any longer; his hole gaped as the baby’s head stretched him beyond limits, making Peter scream in pain.

Then Peter felt a familiar hand touching his belly. He opened his eyes and saw Rob’s green eyes staring at him. “Told you this wasn’t a good idea,” Rob said, making Peter smile for a second before he screamed again because the baby’s head was almost crowning.

“He’s coming out now. Please…” Peter said between groans, the emergency staff had no other option than pulling his Speedo off and getting the supplies ready to deliver the baby. The arena was silent. Everybody focused on the unexpected closing event of the race. Nobody could see anything, but they heard Peter’s screams.

“Okay, sir, the baby is crowning; I need you to push now, on the count of three, one, two, three,” a male nurse said, ready to catch the baby boy.

When Peter pushed, he curled up, his eyes managing to look above his big belly, catching a glimpse of the screen with the results of the race.

He had finished third. Despite everything, he had qualified for the next round. As the head of the baby emerged, Peter groaned in pain, but a smile spread across his face.

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[Art]

PN: This is a Patreon-exclusive story in honor of the recently finished Olympic Games. Many hotties this year, looking perfect to carry some babies just like Peter.