Delayed Pt. 4

What other trouble can poor Peter get into? As it turns out, a lot...

Delayed Revisited

Part Four

“You can't do this, Richard!” Peter hissed into the phone. “Dragging me to court in my condition is just…”

“Your condition is mostly your own fault!” Richard cut him off. “You're certifiably insane, Pete, and just so you know… I expect to easily be granted full custody. All of the children deserve better than you!”

Already red, Peter's face instantly went three shades darker, he was so furious. His pregnancy chose that moment to shudder yet again, causing him to groan into the phone.

He and Richard had been going at it for days now, with no progress, and little hope for an amicable solution… Going to court the following morning seemed inevitable and now, there was no doubt that Richard had the upper hand.

Not only was he a tried, true and successful trial lawyer, he had all of his firm's resources at his disposal should he need them. Peter, on the other hand, was ludicrously pregnant, possessed a useless degree, and was already struggling to handle the five children he already had, when he had them, so three more would only worsen the situation. On top of that, he also had an airhead boyfriend who, good or bad, might be out of the picture soon?

Yes, he made good money (soon to be very good,) so at least he had that going for him, but how he made it would most definitely have to be addressed in court, and Peter highly doubted the judge would look on his “profession” in a favorable manner.” And still, he'd yet to look for his own legal representation…

Despite how important that was, it was just another thing he needed to do. Another task on a seemingly endless list… Peter wasn't about to go down without a fight though, and would do everything possible to make sure Richard didn't take the kids away, truly tempting as that almost sounded.

“Just tell me what you want from me, Richard,” he said as he slumped back in his chair, causing its arms to creak in protest as they dug into the sides of his massive middle, and yes, he was sitting in his newer, bigger, wider and stronger chair.

Richard scoffed. “Do you seriously not know?!”

“No, I don't.”

“I want you to stop all this nonsense! I want you to go to the hospital and have the babies, now! Today! I'll take and stay with you if you want?” He offered.

“No, I do not want.”

“Fine, baby steps… At the very least, stop going live!”

The resentment and annoyance in Richard's request were unmistakable. As much as he liked seeing Peter pregnant, he didn't like the thought of other men looking at him, especially not while he did what he did when he went live… This had always been a sticking point between them. Richard had always, and probably always would, want Peter to himself, so needless to say, the lawyer wasn't a fan of his ex-husband's new grocery store employee boyfriend.

But unfortunately for Richard, having Peter to himself wasn't an option anymore. Nor was his ex “prematurely” ending his pregnancy, or not going live.

Peter groaned. “Why is it so hard for you to mind your own fucking business, Richard?!”

“What the fuck do you think I was doing till you went and made yours mine again?!” His ex shouted back. “You…”

“You know what, asshole?! Fine! We'll do things your way!” Peter yelled before yanking the phone from his ear and ending the call.

After he had, he just sat there staring out at himself… His swollen belly throbbed in and out with each breath he took, causing his shirt to continue to ride up. He couldn't see them at the moment, but all Peter had bothered to put on beneath his biggest swell was a pair of briefs which, shocker, were also too small and tight to provide enough coverage…

Not long after his shouting, Brad popped his head into the office, one of the kids hanging from his neck. “Everything OK in here?” He asked, sounding like he didn't actually want a truthful answer.

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. “Everything's fine, R-Brad.”

Brad either didn't notice the near slip or didn't care about it after having already been compared to his boyfriend's ex-husband the night before. “I'm trying to get the twins in the bath. Think you can watch the…”

“Gimme a few,” Peter requested as he rubbed his face. “I have to take care of a couple things first.”

Brad silently nodded and left. They'd yet to make up following their fight. The stiffness about him let Peter know for sure that their unresolved issues were going to come back up again, especially given the extreme state of his pregnancy and how it now fell into these frequent episodes of quakes and tremors, his stretched and strained abdominal muscles spasming in desperation to extricate the babies who'd overstayed their welcome by and a month and counting.

Peter had no idea if what he was about to do was going to work, but figured it was worth a shot. Leaning in over his belly and boobs, he pulled his site up on the computer and went to the private message portal. There were several new messages he needed to read and respond to, but now wasn't the time. After some scrolling, Peter found the message thread he was looking for and opened it.

“Here goes nothing…” he muttered as he started typing a message to TryAndMakeYouBlow.

Hey there. Hope all is well with you. On my end, our arrangement has gotten to be a little more difficult for me to manage than I anticipated. I'm one month overdue now and I'm sure you've noticed how much bigger the babies and I have gotten in the last two weeks… Hopefully, you're impressed enough that you'd be willing to amend our arrangement and let me give birth “early?”

Early as in ideally, tonight… I'd be willing to accep half the amount we agreed to since I only went half the agreed to time. Please let me know your thoughts ASAP.

TryAndMakeYouBlow was online. Peter held what little breath was in him as he waited for them to respond which fortunately, didn't take long. Unfortunately, what they said wasn't what he'd been hoping for…

No. All or nothing. If you need to stop, you can keep the million, but you won't get any more. Up to you.

“Fuckin’ asshole!” Peter groaned as he collapsed back in his chair.

The million dollars was a lot, but it wasn't enough. Not when so much more had been offered. Not after everything he'd already, additionally done… Peter would've settled for four million more, but just the one he'd already received? No way. It was time to find himself a lawyer.

Like so much else, this task also proved easier said than done, and it took a lot longer than the few minutes he'd requested from his pissed off boyfriend. Closer to an hour had passed by the time Peter had found representation and paid out a hefty retainer, promising to fill his new attorney, Randall in on all the details of his case when they met before court the following morning.

Peter sighed again. He could and couldn't believe he was now being weighed down by so much else when he was already so weighed down by his own body. Still seated, he just managed to work himself into a pair of shorts, then started to work on the next issue he needed to address: getting up.

Bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, he tensed every muscle he could while sending most of his energy to his legs, pushing himself up and forward with a massive roar. It took three tries to get up, which was actually one less than the last time he'd had to haul himself back to standing.

Go me… he thought as audibly, he huffed and panted as he gave himself a few seconds to ensure he was as balanced as he could be.

Two weeks into his arrangement and an entire month overdue with already large triplets, Peter was objectively huge. His belly was now wider than the rest of him and butter out in front like a smooth, enormous boulder. His pregnancy now preceded him to such a degree that it often bumped into things before he was able to see them (if he ever even did.) Not that this was a new development, but Peter's pregnancy was the first thing anyone saw when he entered a space, the rest of him following slowly behind, utterly strained and overwhelmed.

Two more weeks, he reminded himself again, even though he really didn't need to. I can make it. I have to. All that money… Two more weeks and then no more pregnancies and no more babies. This will all be worth it.

As he lumbered towards the door, he stopped while still inside the office and looked down. Peter then reached down and tried to encircle his biggest mound with his arms. He sighed when as predicted, his hands didn't come anywhere close to meeting.

Rather belatedly, he began to truly worry about how he was supposed to give birth in two weeks' time when the babies were that much bigger? The thought rightfully scared Peter but there was no point in continuing to dwell on it so he sighed again, shook his head and directed his attention out to the hall.

Gingerly, he tottered forward, gradually falling into the heavy, cumbersome waddle that had become his “natural” stride. It seemed to take forever just to progress a few feet, his belly lurching uncomfortably as his tits rocked, bobbled and wobbled. As soon as Peter (not just his pregnancy) had made it through the increasingly narrow door, far beyond his belly, he was greeted by the unwelcome sight of the living room floor strewn with toys, children's books, children, and crayons.

An obviously impatient Brad was waiting at the foot of the stairs with a cranky twin held to each hip. “Nice of you to join us…” he quipped as he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be able to manage things down here?” He asked as he raised his brows.

“I'll be fine,” Peter replied with a nod, even though he sincerely doubted he would be. He waved vaguely at the other three children wriggling about on the floor, further adding to the mess. “We're… good. You go ‘head.”

As his boyfriend headed upstairs, he was immediately pounced on, tugged at and prodded, a long chorus of, “Mama! Mommy! Mama!” suddenly ringing in his ears.

Peter felt dangerously close to pitching forward as he extra slowly made his way over to the couch, mindful as he could be to not step on (and crush) a child. Five kids were a lot for two people to try and handle, let alone one. The thought of Brad finding out the truth and leaving him caused as sizable lump to form in the back of Peter's throat as he did an indentation on the couch when he dropped down heavily onto it.

*****

Peter had to find a sitter for the kids since Brad was at work and he and Richard were both otherwise occupied. Had he asked him, he knew Brad would've come to court with him, but too much of his personal life was going to be discussed before the two of them had had a chance to talk about it privately, if they ever did…

The overdue, twenty-eight year old defendant tried to get an UberXL, but one hadn't been available when he needed to leave. As a result, he barely fit in the back of the midsize sedan that showed up, making the ride to court as mortifying as it was uncomfortable. After the utterly shocked driver had pushed and folded the front passenger's seat entirely forward, he continually gawked at Peter through the rearview mirror as he drove, wide eyes darting around like he thought he was getting punked.

Peter was bright red, dripping with sweat and of course, straining. His entire body was under an unbelievable amount of pressure. Every bump the car hit made his belly and breasts jerk forcefully and continue to react for several seconds. Less than halfway to the courthouse, Peter had to squeeze his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks as he huffed and puffed, trying to keep it together.

Pinned to his seat, his groin felt particularly tense and heavy. Over the last few days, the triplets had slowly started to descend as his overburdened body  desperately tried to force them out. Despite its best efforts, the drug continued to work, not allowing Peter's massive womb to contract even a single time.

After a ride he thought was never going to end, Peter finally reached his destination. He gave a wet sniff as he looked up at the courthouse. It took the next several seconds for him to work up the mental energy to will himself to move.

Having only briefly talked (all things considered) on the phone, he had no idea what Randall looked like? After summarizing the details of his case, including the fact that he was very, very pregnant, Peter told Randall he'd know him when he saw him, because obviously…

“Peter..?” A handsome and equally shocked looking man roughly a decade older than him, cautiously asked as he approached, light brown eyes looking like they were about to pop from their sockets.

“That's me,” the overdue man replied, forcing himself to smile and nod.

“I… figured,” Randall said as he eyed him up and down. “Let's… head in. I reserved a conference room for us to talk and complete some paperwork,” he said over his shoulder as he turned and started heading into the large building, quickly leaving his newest client in the guest before he turned back to look and realized he very much needed to slow down.

As they made their way in, the men were gawked at, Peter in particular, of course. Other lawyers, judges, clerks, plaintiffs and defendants alike, all forgot about whatever they were doing and stared at Peter's tremendously swollen body, which he'd truly struggled to cram into something somewhat appropriate to wear to such a proceeding.

He hadn't had much to choose from. The bigger clothes he'd ordered had yet to arrive so he ended up wearing one of the biggest t-shirts he currently had (which wasn't close to being big enough anymore) over which he'd thrown on the button down he'd worn on his last date with Brad. The collared shirt didn't close anymore and the t-shirt left more than a third of his belly exposed. Further down, things weren't much better…

The only pants Peter had been able to cram himself into that morning were a pair of sweats. Sweats were hardly appropriate to wear to court but they were his only option and really, the least of his concerns.

By the time he and Randall made it to the conference room, Peter was profusely sweating and gasping for breath. All the chairs in the room were too small for him but he sat anyway because he desperately needed to, giant belly and breasts all squished atop of and in front of him.

When he was finally able to stop staring at his client, Randall got to work. Needless to say, he had a lot of rather personal questions he needed to ask Peter, and there was a lot of paperwork to complete before the hearing. Even though he was now sitting, all this still proved to be incredibly arduous for Randall's ridiculously fecund client, who found himself beyond exhausted by the time their case was heard.

The questioning process in the courtroom was even more mortifying than Peter had imagined it was going to be. He tried to be as vague as he could about his condition and the source of his income, but the judge demanded specificity. Per Randall's instruction, Peter was rather redundant in his iteration that he was carrying triplets and this was his fifth pregnancy, as if either could properly explain how massive he was…

Richard had decided to represent himself. He didn't need the help, but he'd brought along another of the partners from his firm to show he meant business. He was ruthless with his questioning, making Peter glad he'd spent a small fortune hiring Randall. He quickly realized he'd been out of his mind thinking he could've possibly represented himself, but being out of his mind was hardly anything new anymore.

The looks Peter got while he was on the stand ranged from shocked and concerned to downright disgusted. It wasn't long before he started to feel off: dizzy and once again, short of breath. This caused even his usually put and pulled together ex-husband to look more than a little uneasy…

The overdue, overly pregnant twenty-eight year old vaguely heard the judge ask if he was alright. He tried to respond but his throat was so dry, no words came from between his lips, just raspy, indecipherable whispers.

Before he knew what was happening, not one, but two bailiffs approached the stand and he was being helped off and ushered out of the courtroom in a wheelchair he was far too big for. Peter didn't have the wherewithal to know what was going on as Randall walked alongside the motley group, talking at him. Peter tensed (even more) at the thought of being taken to the hospital, but the bailiffs simply wheeled him out to the taxi stand, eager to be rid of him before he exploded.

Peter heard Randall say something about having gotten the judge to continue the case. He knew he should've been happy about this but he couldn't focus, let alone imagine coming back to court and doing this all over again. Naturally, his belly had to choose that moment to give another one of its forceful heaves, this time strong enough to feel like it might break his crushed pelvis.

It took both of the bailiffs and Randall to get Peter into the back of a cab, which only by the grace of God, happened to be a minivan, making things slightly easier for them all. When he was dropped off at home, the cabbie refused to help him out, worried if he touched his passenger(s) he'd be liable should anything (else) happen to him/them.

Upon his sweaty, gasping return, the sitter made to leave. Through an arduous series of pants, gasps, grunts and groans, Peter convinced her to stay for the rest of the day by doubling her hourly rate. He needed to go lay down and try to recover. Oh, and eat, because God, was he hungry…

*****

Richard was over two hours late to pick up the kids, probably just to be (even more) antagonistic. Peter had called and texted repeatedly but had yet to hear back from him. Three of the five children they definitely shared had fallen asleep and the other two were glued to the TV, so at least the overdue “mommy” didn't have to tend to anyone, but ultimately, that meant whenever his ex finally showed up, it wasn't going to be a quick grab and go exchange.

Since Peter had no clue when that was going to be, the kids were all occupied and he was getting tired, he decided to go live so he could get his latest stream over and done with and then spend the rest of the day taking it easy. Peter had just started the stream when Richard finally showed up, let himself into his former home and entered the office.

“That was quite the performance you put on yesterday,” he commended from the doorway as he leaned against the frame.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Peter replied with a roll of his eyes.

He didn't have the energy to argue, much less anything else. Speaking of performances, he hadn't thought out what he was going to do on the stream but whatever it was, he wasn't going to do much of it. He wasn't wearing anything sexy he could use to drum up interest, just a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, both of which were way too small but otherwise unremarkable.

As such, for the first time in quite some time, Peter considered how big he'd gotten to be a good thing… He figured he could just sit there in front of the camera, struggling to breathe, looking bigger than ever (because obviously, he was) and people would be happy enough.

“Oh, and thanks for letting yourself in!” He sarcastically added.

“You left the door unlocked,” Richard replied, his tone flat yet still containing a hint of danger and malice. “Don't think I won't be mentioning that to the…”

Finally, the time had come… Peter mentally snapped. He almost did so physically as well as he somehow managed to haul himself up and out of his chair on his first attempt. His face turned beet red as he gasped for air and wobbled ponderously in place till he found his footing but his right hand somehow found the mouse and paused the stream. He didn't want his viewers seeing this…

“Randall told me… not to… talk to you about… the… case,” he panted out.

Richard briefly checked his smartwatch before responding, “You finally did something smart, hiring him. He's good, but he's expensive.”

“I know…”

“Which means I guess I need to go and hire a forensic accountant to look into your finances,” he continued. “I genuinely hope for your sake, you've at least been doing those by the book!”

Obviously, Peter's finances were not being done by the book, yet he didn't bother to respond to his ex's latest threat. “All the kids’... stuff is in their… bags… on the couch. Snacks are… in the fridge.”

“Did you manage that by yourself, or did Brad help you?” Richard asked.

“By myself.”

“I would've thought Brad would be here to help?”

“He's at… work, Richard. Now, can you… handle things from… here?” Peter asked as he braced himself on the desk with his left hand as his right slid down under his belly.

“Seems like I'll have to!” His ex grunted as he eyed his bloated form up and down. “You can barely move now, Pete! You looked absolutely ridiculous up on the stand, like some fertility experiment gone wrong!”

Peter's flustered face went two shades of red deeper. “Like you… weren't into it! Aren't… into it!” He breathlessly spat out, glaring hatefully up at Richard, who glared right back down at him, but with slightly less malice.

He pressed his lips tightly together as he continued to blatantly ogle Peter. “Tell me why you're doing this,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “I know you, so I know there has to be a reason!” He correctly deduced because Peter might've been able to pull the wool over Brad's eyes, but not his.

“Can you… please, just take everyone and… go?”

Richard shook his head as he crossed his arms over his formidable chest. “Not till you tell me why you're doing this, Pete.”

“I can't!” His overdue ex groaned. “Randall told me…”

“Screw Randall!”

Peter grunted and shook his head. “I am…”

“What?!” Richard shouted, eyes widening.

Peter took his hand from under his turgid belly and held it up. “Not like… that! I'm screwing him because… even he doesn't know why I'm doing this!”

The gaze his ex-husband now cast down on him appeared to be an equal combination of relief and puzzlement. “Randall doesn't know?”

He shook his head. “Not everything.”

“Well then tell me,” Richard replied. “I want to help.

Peter grunted as he rolled his eyes again. “Do you? Is that why you took me to court and called me an… unfit parent?!” He huffed so forcefully, it caused his giant belly to give another heave, causing him to clutch at what he could of it.

“What other choice did I have?! But now, if you're…”

“Obviously, there's a reason, Richard! Despite what you… think, I'm not… that crazy!”

“That's debatable!” Richard grunted this time before asking, “So what is it?”

His younger ex didn't immediately respond. Peter didn't know if the time had come for him to tell Richard, of all people, everything? Part of him actually wanted to, but he didn't know if it would help (like Richard claimed it would) or hurt more? After taking a few more seconds to weigh his options, Peter figured there was only one way to find out…

“Fine!” He huffed. “So one of my viewers…” he started to explain, but as soon as “viewers” left his mouth, Richard simultaneously groaned, shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Please tell me, you aren't fucking serious, Pete?! I…”

“Do you wanna… hear this or… not?!” He huffed some more, still trying to catch his breath.

Richard closed his eyes, inhaled and then exhaled deeply, and nodded. “Go ‘head…”

“So, one of my viewers… They offered me money,” Peter continued. “A very significant sum, if I…”

“Stayed pregnant.”

He nodded.

“Jesus, Pete! For how long?!” Richard asked, starting to get loud again.

“As of now? Two more weeks.”

“Two more weeks?!” He repeated, totally aghast. “If you said two more days, I would've told you that's too long!” He shook his head. “How significant are we talking?”

“Extremely.”

“You're gonna need to be more specific if you want me to help,” Richard replied.

Even though he'd known that was coming, Peter wasn't willing to be entirely specific. He was however finally willing to make some concessions, reasoning he had to for there to be any chance of him succeeding now…

“Enough that I'd be willing to agree to not receiving any more spousal support,” he answered.

“And what about child support?”

He scoffed. “What about it?”

“Would you be willing to amend that agreement as well?”

“I guess we could talk about it, but at least five of them are your children, Richard!”

The older man nodded. “I'm aware. But with possibly three more soon to be added to my tab, not to mention all the drama you've recently added, I think it's only fair we at least talk about amending that agreement as well,” he reasoned. “I still intend to pay my fair share since I make more than you, don't I?” He asked, raising his brows.

“You did…” Peter said before he could stop himself.

“I did?! Pete…”

Again, now wasn't the time to get specific. Peter wanted to keep how significant of a sum he was getting in his back pocket, in case he really needed to reveal it later, so he quickly continued.

“If I agree to no more spousal support and to talking about reducing your child support, will you agree to stopping all this nonsense?”

“I'd hardly call it nonsense, but…”

“A simple yes or no will do, Richard!”

The lawyer shut his mouth as he thought about it. He wasn't hurting for money, but having to pay spousal and child support when he only had the kids half the time while Peter sat around doing just about nothing other than growing, wasn't exactly ideal. Richard still intended on taking care of his own, but if he could reduce his payments and take more of his own financial needs and wants into account, that would be ideal.

“I'm willing to call off the dogs if you, Randall and I can come to an agreement that more financially benefits me,” he agreed.

“And we'd continue to share custody?” Peter asked, needing to be sure.

“For now,” Richard nodded again. “Though as everyone gets older, it would probably be easier if we change custody from fifty-fifty to…”

“Great, but can we talk about that later?” Peter exhaled, feeling some slight relief for the first time in a long time.

“Later works,” Richard agreed.

“Wonderful…” his bloated ex practically moaned. “Thank you.”

“I told you I wanted to help.”

“Right…” Peter rolled his eyes, hoping Richard would take that to be the end of the discussion and go start collecting everyone, but he didn't.

Instead he just stood there and silently stared down at his ex some more. To be fair, there was a lot of Peter to take in…

“I'd appreciate it if you got going now,” Peter encouraged less than politely.

Richard stayed put. The only part of him that moved continued to be his eyes as his bloated ex released what he tried to keep a quiet groan. Peter's back ached and his lower belly was pressing so hard on his hips he just wanted to collapse but he refused to let Richard see how exhausted and overwhelmed he was. A little more pleading wasn't out of the question though…

“Come on, Richard, please. I really need…”

“I know what you need,” the attorney cut in. “If anyone does, it's me, wouldn't you agree?”

Peter nodded in agreement. He even smiled a little. Finally, Richard got it. Maybe he really did want to help?

“Hate to admit it, but yeah,” he chuckled. “You and I have history and sometimes, as much as I want to, it just can't be…”

Before he could finish, Richard suddenly closed the small gap between them. Before Peter could comprehend what was happening, he and his (formerly?) vindictive ex were touching and caressing and then kissing each other. During the brief moment when Richard's tongue wasn't jammed down his throat, Peter released a surprise gasp, after which he and Richard went right back to making out.

For another minute, the former couple kissed like their lives depended on it, then all of a sudden, Richard disengaged as he placed his hands on Peter's shoulders and pressed down on them hard. He touched Peter with more force and purpose than Brad ever had.

The overdue twenty-eight year old grunted as he dropped heavily to his knees, his belly and breasts all going crazy from the (relatively) rapid movement. He groaned as his knees and the balls of his swollen feet took the full weight and force of his bloated body, all four points painfully pressurized.

“W-what the… hell?’ He gasped out, looking up at Richard in an unexpected combination of lust and surprise.

As he did, his right hand shot to the floor behind him for support, thrusting his belly further up and out than it was already sticking. Peter knew Richard would never hurt him (physically, anyway,) so he wasn't scared, just surprised…

Then again, he wasn't. It hadn't happened often, but Richard could be rather tenacious when he wanted to be, and they'd always shared an amazing connection (also physically, anyway.) The sex they had was so good, it was why the triplets might belong to Richard as he and Peter had hooked up many times during and following their divorce.

“I do watch your livestreams,” the lawyer finally admitted, his voice lower by almost an octave, having transitioned to the tone he used when they got intimate. “As many as I can.”

“I knew it!” Peter smirked, oddly pleased.

“I caught that little show you and Brad put on…” his ex continued with a snort. “Does he know about it?”

“No,” Peter sheepishly admitted as he wiped his dripping brow with his other hand. “Y-you won't tell him, will you?”

Richard shrugged. “That depends.”

“On what?” He asked as he moved his hand to his belly and started rubbing it, knowing more than ever now that Richard would find it enticing.

“On how good the show you and I put on is.”

Peter frowned. “The show we put on?”

Richard chuckled as he shook his head and untucked his Polo, which was tight but because of his muscles rather than his belly and breasts (neither of which he had.) “You're really good at two, no, three things, Pete… Getting pregnant, looking incredible while you are, and having sex,” he smirked. “But now that you have some money coming your way, you might wanna use some of it for acting lessons!” He suggested with a wink.

“Hey!”

“What, it's true!” Richard shrugged again. “But don't worry… We both know you won't have to worry about acting when you're with me,” he shook his head. “Now should I restart the feed?” He asked as he looked over at the camera pointing to where Peter had been sitting.

“How'd you know I stopped it?”

“Because I know you and I know you wouldn't want to air our dirty laundry online. That and because I get notifications regarding your feeds.”

This time, it was Peter who chuckled and shook his head. “You have notifications enabled?! Wow, you really are a faithful viewer, aren't you?”

“Since I'm not being recorded at the moment, I'll admit to that.”

“Speaking of recording, are you sure you want to be?” Peter asked, cocking his head to the side as he raised his brows.

“Look down, Pete,” Richard said, dipping his chin.

The achingly overdue twenty-eight year did as instructed. As soon as he saw how strained the crotch of his ex's khakis was, he let out another surprised gasp. “Oh!” He laughed.

“Exactly. So do I want to be recorded? Not really, but I'm willing to consent,” Richard nodded again. “And before you ask why, it's because I think you look…”

“Better than ever?” Peter correctly guessed, but Richard wasn't willing to admit.

He rolled his eyes. “I'm not sure I'd go that far, but…”

Peter laughed again as he rolled his right back. “Who's bad at acting now?! Don't answer that… Tell me why I'm down here prematurely destroying my knees!”

Richard huffed. “You're not, but even if you were, that would be the first and only thing you ever did prematurely! But to answer your question, you're down there ‘cause I thought it might be fun if I you let me fuck those big tits you've grown?”

“Huh…” his hefty ex grunted as he looked down at his breasts, his chin putting a dent in his t-shirt, it was so tightly strained. “You and I have done a lot of stuff, but we've never tried that.”

“Well they were never this big before,” Richard replied as he went over to adjust the camera so Peter's other faithful viewers would be able to see what happened next.

“Holy shit! You're serious?!” The fecund content creator realized loud, still somehow not expecting that.

“I am,” Richard nodded as he finished adjusting the camera. As soon as he had, he started working on his belt. “Ready to roll?” He asked as his pants dropped to the floor, his erection poking higher now that it only had his briefs confining it.

Was Peter ready? Yes and no… Part of him couldn't believe he was about to go live with Richard. He knew it was a bad idea, but bad as it was, just the thought of it was insanely hot. So much so that even the worry of Brad somehow finding out, which would only add to their mess, wasn't enough to keep Peter from nodding as he wondered how far things would go online between him and Richard?

“Then here we go,” Richard said as he moved the mouse around the screen till he found the button to restart the stream and clicked it. He nodded from off camera as soon as the feed had started.