The Dress Ch. 01

"Oh. It's never your fault, is it Peter. Who's house was it at? Yours. Get over yourself. And quit leering at me with your fucking eyes. It's disgusting."

Beth turned and waddled as quickly as she could away from me. I was not about to let her get the last word in and walked equally quick behind her, once again staring at her panty free ass. The bunnies, as she always referred to them. Where the hole that may not be touched lay. I wondered to myself if it was still just as hairy around it as it was when we were married. Based on what I just saw, I'd say it was.

"So, when he forgets something at your house, it's my fault. But, when he forgets something at my house, it's my fault. It's like, you don't want me to look at your ass, but you don't where panties."

Beth turned, fuming.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm pregnant, asshole."

Satisfied with her response, Beth turned and approached a group of mothers that she knew for safety. I had one last opportunity to respond before they would be in earshot. I looked at her butt, dress once again bunched between her cheeks. The punishment for lifting up her dress just might be worth it.

"I'm trying to notice your pregnant asshole right now."

Beth almost ran towards the moms who were walking away from us and chatting. I stopped, realizing that they were part of a group that was not for me. Giving Beth's butt one last leer, I turned away, left by myself, like the loners entering the school. I had no group. It was time to go home and get ready for work.

I unpacked my pockets on the kitchen table and grabbed a coffee. Heading upstairs, I got out of my clothes and sat on the bed, torn between loving Beth for her body and hating her for her mouth. The same mouth that used to give me blowjobs at her parents house while her mom and dad were downstairs. The same mouth that used to tell me not to touch her poop hole. It was a strange love-hate relationship I had with it.

I decided to get on with my day and check my email before work. Having left my phone downstairs, I grabbed the TV remote. ESPN was still on, so I toggled the smart TV back to the internet input. My mind was processing the 3 steps needed to login to my account, by my body froze as I stared at the screen. Beth's bedroom took up the entire 50" of the monitor.

"What the fuck?"

I wondered out loud at what I was seeing. Tom apparently didn't turn the TV off. Or, he merely put it on standby, thinking it was off. Whatever the case, I was left dumbfounded at the result. Beth's bedroom, with her dresser to the left, and bed right in the middle, was sitting in silence right before me. It was not something Beth would have tolerated, ever. Which was why it started to excite me.

No laws were broken. No hacking or devious behavior on my part. Just a simple mistake. But, the mistake was one for the ages. I pictured Beth walking in, seeing me stare, and pulling out a gun to shoot me. I held the remote, pointed it at the screen, and began to end the forgotten call.

But then I paused. What could she do? Nothing to me. But, to Tom, she might just unload. I was torn. I probably would have just turned it off on any other day, at least I told myself that. Today, though, after our brief hostile interaction, I figured I would push my luck. Fuck it. I'd just stay out of sight and let her end the call.

My body began to shake. I had made my decision and it was providing more excitement than I thought possible. I even hit the DVR, wanting to record her reaction to my invasion. To get a video of her in the belly hugging, breast displaying cotton dress that she wore this morning. I made a mental note to start bringing my phone to school and record her.

Time crept by. I realized I could be waiting all day, having no clue what her plans were or where she goes. I zipped downstairs, called into work quickly, explaining that I was going to be in after lunch because Tom was sick. Kids provide an excuse that cannot be questioned.

I ran back upstairs, fearful that I had missed my opportunity, throwing my phone on the bed. That the screen would be blank. Instead, Beth's room just sat still, quietly permitting my eyes to roam free. I looked at the wedding pictures on the side of the bed, the family picture of Frank, Beth, and Tom over the bed. The artistic nic-nacs that Beth put on her dresser and hung on the walls. It was definitely her sanctuary.

An hour had passed and no Beth. I looked at my watch and then realized it had only been 10 minutes, that it just felt like an hour. The erection in my boxers was going to have to be patient. I gave it an apologetic adjustment as I got comfortable on the bed.

Suddenly, I heard a noise in the distance. It sounded like Tom was home from school. I tilted my head, listening hard. The usual vibrations from him walking through the house were not there. Another noise, this time one I did not recognize. It sounded like a door squeaking open. My eyes turned to the TV, realizing the sound was coming from it. Before I could move, Beth walked into the room.

My body froze. My heart raced. There she was, in her light blue dress, tits full, belly extended. Beth was slowly massaging her stomach, clearly a move meant to comfort not only the baby inside, but herself. After putting her phone down on the table next to the bed, Beth walked right in front of TV, providing a full and clear profile of her chest. Not once did she look at her screen or take notice of me. Fuck! She was oblivious to my presence.

I pushed down my boxers, desperate to release my erection. Just the fact that I was watching her, unobserved, was enough for me. I slowly rubbed myself, waiting for Beth to make another appearance. I even called out her name.

"Oh...Beth...where are you...?"

As if on cue, Beth returned with a large blanket. Even though her bed looked made up, Beth stood by the side of the bed and unfolded the blanket. Her body slouched forward, straining against the weight of her stomach. I marveled at the shape of her hips, how they flowed perfectly with the form of her stomach.

Having unfolded the blanket, Beth stood up and thew one end across the bed. Then, she began to wave it in the air as Beth tried to cover the bed with it. Apparently it was laundry day. It didn't matter. My penis would have been hard watching her paint the walls. My erection and I watched as Beth moved around the bed and smoothed out the blanket.

I thought it was odd that she wasn't stripping the bed first. But those thoughts were quickly dismissed. Beth had completed the task and merely stood still, once again rubbing her stomach, gently itching it. Then her hands moved to her sides and continued the rubbing and itching. Clearly, her skin was stretching from pregnancy. I remembered well how bad her mood was when pregnant for this very reason.

Beth silently stared at herself in the mirror, once again rubbing her stomach. She sighed, closing her eyes, letting the warm motherly feelings flow through her body. Her hands ran over the sides of her stomach, intimately rubbing the swells of her upper thighs. Beth arched slightly, stretching her back, moving her hands to the base of her spine. Her eyes opened, staring at herself in the mirror.

The phone by her bed began to vibrate, breaking Beth's trance. She walked over to it and picked it up.

"Hi honey..."

It was apparently Frank. He had invaded our alone time.

"I was just about to do some laundry, and then I'm going over to my mom's for lunch."

The daily check in. Apparently Beth did not provide Frank the same daily aggravation she provided me today since he willingly called. They had a brief chat about how she was feeling, what he was doing at work, and other non-essential communication. Beth had returned to the mirror, one hand holding the phone, another fluffing her hair as she talked.

Beth turned and walked towards me and I felt like running away, caught with my underwear at my knees. She just walked on by, holding the phone, and disappeared from sight. When she returned, Beth was holding a small basket that she placed on the bed by the pillows. The conversation was winding down.

"Alright. I'll see you tonight then. Love you."

Returning to the mirror, Beth put the phone on the dresser. She bared her teeth at the mirror, inspecting them as she stretched out her face. She rubbed something away from under her nose and opened her eyes wide, leaning forward, perhaps looking for any new wrinkles. Satisfied that she found none, Beth stepped back. Without a care in the world, she reached down and effortlessly lifted her dress over her head.

"Oh...fuck..."

I yelled at the screen. My penis bucked in my hands from the immense blood flow that pulsed through it. Beth, my ex-wife, had just dropped her dress to the ground and stood in front of the mirror, in front of me, naked except for her bra! The same dress that I had tried to peel from her ass with my eyes. The same woman who constantly told me to go to hell. The show was beyond what I expected.

Her belly was much larger naked than I expected. The shape and contour of her dress hid the large, watermelon like appearance as it bulged away from her body. The shape of it curved gracefully into her thighs, equally round and defined.

Thighs that grew from small womanly legs at the kneecap to large motherly fat stores at her hip. A hip that was decorated in the front with an abrupt ending where the top of her leg ended at the base of her distended stomach. The back of her hip displayed a bulbous and swollen butt, swooping in harmony with the curve of her stomach.

Oh my god, Beth's ass. Beth was staring at her butt in the mirror, providing me an angled view of her bottom. Beth was almost sitting on her dresser as she tried to center it in the mirror. The peak of her stomach lined up perfectly with the top of her ass. As her stomach swept into her body as it approached her vagina, Beth's butt swelled away with similar curvature.

Her bottom crested almost in line with the meeting of her upper thigh and her stomach. As the front of her thighs curved forward, Beth's bottom rounded towards the back of her hamstrings. At that well defined crease, where the white back of her legs began, the front of her thighs swooped gracefully towards her kneecap. She was perfectly symmetrical, pregnant, and naked. A perfect combination.

As I lusted at the crease of her bottom, well defined by the swollen butt cheeks pressing together, Beth reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra. If the sight of her naked bottom was erotic, the sudden release of her engorged mammary glands was almost pornographic.

Without the pregnant belly below them, Beth's tits would have looked like an overly aggressive boob job. They seemed chiseled onto her chest in the shape of some over filled water balloons. They had no sag to them, instead swelling forward almost as far as her pregnant belly. The distended shape of her breasts matched the same swoop and contour of her stomach, like a warped letter "c" with most of the curve occurring at the bottom.

There was a giant exception to this, however. Beth's nipples. The pink of her areola lay perfectly flush with the surrounding skin. But, small craters seemed to pucker out on the inner perimeter, until, right at the center, a very thick and long nipple pointed away from her chest. It was as long as it was thick, a perfect half inch cylinder.

Beth was stretching her nude body in front of the mirror, looking at herself, rubbing her stomach now with a bit more force. I remembered the dark stretch marks when she was pregnant with Tom. The crying from Beth, scared that they would never go away. I saw none of them on her now. Her skin was perfectly blemish free and smooth. All as pale and white as her bottom.

Beth turned towards me, admiring her profile. My eyes wanted to desperately stare at the massive tits hanging free for my leering eyes. Nipples dark like anuses at the apex of her swollen breasts. But, my eyes had a more impressive target. Her bush.

It wasn't just a heavy triangle. It was in the shape of a dark diamond, reaching it's greatest width at the top of her legs and tapering back to a point as it moved up the swell of her stomach. Beth was never a shaver when pregnant, and I guess she hadn't changed. She was always worried that if she shaved it, that her bush would never return to it's former glory. That it would be locked to the path of her razor.

The result was, Beth had two bushes in one. One inverted and on top of the other. She was moving her hands over the top of it, rubbing at the out of place hairs that probably made her skin itch more. Her fingers were buried in the long curls, red nail polish keeping them in view. Beth dragged her hands back out, over the crest of her stomach, cleaning out the folds of her belly button like she would her butt hole in the shower.

Higher up went her hands, pushing into her chest, rubbing the crease between her breast meat and her ribs. Beth was lifting them up, testing their weight. Feeling the lobules inside of her chest filling with milk. Storing the food for her baby. Softly brushing a thumb across her extended, firm nipples, Beth gently lowered her breasts.

Turning around, Beth presented her ass to the mirror. She arched her back, thrusting out her belly. Beth moved her hands to her bottom, feeling the soft curves, running her fingers into the intimate flesh at the base of each cheek. Beth lifted her globes and separated them, opening up her butt crack to air out the inside. I stared in shocked admiration at the dense patch of hair that hid her poop hole.

Releasing her butt, the quick and vulgar display was over. Beth simply stared at her ass, flexing it, moving her body to one side, then the other. Lifting her arms, Beth raised the back of her hair to get a full picture of when she looked like from behind. Arching, stretching, admiring, we both came to the same conclusion. Beth was beautiful when she was naked.

Suddenly, her body jerked. Beth looked down at her stomach, placing her hand on the crest.

"Oh...hello honey...are you up?"

Apparently, the baby was kicking. Perhaps as Beth let the motherly feelings wash over her body, they washed into her body. I tried to focus on her stomach, looking for the movement, but I could see none.

"Ohhh...mommy feels that....I'm right here..."

Beth turned and sat on the bed. Her head tilted forward, as though she was trying to kiss her stomach. Her left breast was squeezing out the side of her body, being forced out of position by her stomach.

"It's mommy...can you hear me? Hi honey...mommy loves you..."

I suppose every mother does it, tries to talk to the child inside of them. But, they don't have their ex husbands watching, masturbating to the intimate conversation. Watching as their nude profile tried to fold itself in half, butt squished on the bed, back dimples exposed, and breasts bulging on top of their pregnant belly.

Beth kissed her hand and placed it on top of her stomach, pressing into herself. As the movement subsided, Beth didn't stand back up. Instead, she rolled her body onto the bed, dragging her ass to the center. Legs together, Beth lay back and rested her back on the many pillows covered by the blanket.

Beth closed her eyes and sighed. My eyes didn't know what to focus on. The heavy bush climbing up towards her stomach? The swollen belly, so prominent when she was in public, yet so taboo to see in the flesh? The pair of swollen breasts, each decorated with hormonal nipples? The pale legs, naked and exposed to my leering eyes? The curled feet, decorated with toes painted in brilliant red? They were all items to behold, but I settled on what made me fall in love with her. Beth's face.

As Beth rested her hands on her stomach, her eyes closed, hiding their brilliant blue. But, her ruby lips decorated her face like the nipples on her chest. Beth's cheeks were as soft and pale as her bottom. Her eye brows were dark and heavy from hormones like her bush. Her hair was lucius and long, providing a gold frame for her angelic face. Her nose was round and symmetrical, curving out like her pregnant belly. It was everything I wanted.

Her blue eyes opened. I wondered if she felt my stares. Instead, her head turned towards the basket and grabbed a bottle. Looking up, she apparently saw something she didn't like. Beth rolled out of bed, grunting, and walked towards the door. Her ass was being presented to me as she stood in the doorframe, listening. I could see faint traces of hair poking out from the base of her bottom as Beth stood with legs spread to support her heavy belly.

Satisfied, Beth leaned back and shut the door. Locking it, Beth tested the handle to make sure it would not open. Having secured herself in her room, she returned to the bed and rolled herself back into position, tits swaying wildly. With a heavy sigh, she lay back. We were alone.

Returning to the bottle, Beth flipped the cap. It was about the size of a shampoo bottle, and my initial thought was Beth had a strange hair routine she went through to maintain the color and sheen. Instead, Beth aimed the bottle at her stomach and began squirting a large amount of what appeared to be oil. I squeeze my erection hard, resisting the urge to release on the spot.

Beth, it appeared, had spread the blanket out on the bed to protect it from her belly massage. The routine probably explained the complete lack of stretch marks on her body and the smooth, soft appearance of her belly. My eyes stared in complete bliss as Beth placed the bottle by her side and began to slowly rub circles around her stomach.

"Rub it...Beth..."

I talked to her through the screen. Beth lay back, unconcerned, and gradually expanded the circle away from her belly button. She looked like a potter, rubbing their slick and oily hands into the mold of clay in front of them. Beth's stomach began to glisten as she coated it, moving her hands firmly and purposely.

Beth didn't bother trying to avoid the pubic hair climbing up her stomach. Instead, she pushed into it, making sure all of the skin on her stomach was coated. Feeling the oil was running out, Beth grabbed the bottle and squirted a bit on her right and left hip.

Pushing down her right thigh, Beth spread the oil down her leg towards her knee. Her thumbs pushed along the top while her fingers dragged along the other and inner shape of her legs. Beth lifted her head as far forward as she could, stomach muscles clearly being compromised during her pregnancy. Satisfied she oiled her right leg as much as possible, she repeated the process with her left.

The sitting up and stretching caused her legs to open and make room for her belly. The result was, when her legs were fully oiled up, Beth lay back in a heap with her pussy open beneath the thick protection of her pubic hair.

And, I don't mean open in the sense that I could see the pink folds and bulge of her vagina. I mean open in the sense that her hormonal labia's separated to reveal her inner lips in the formation of a large "O" around her birth canal. Beth showed none of the tight virginity of a young teenager. Instead, her red and flamed pussy bulged out and showed a well worn cavern.

Essentially, it was preparing itself for the birthing process. Beth looked closer than I realized, having now seen her naked. She almost looked like she was ready to give birth as I watched, ankles turned out and legs spread. Sadly, the bottom of her butt squeezed away any chance of what lay just beneath her vagina.

Beth had returned to the bottle and provided a second coating to her stomach. This time, however, she focussed on the sides of her stomach and the soft, tender flesh above her hips. Each hand maneuvered their own side. I watched the entire process in general, eyes, staring at the glistening stomach. The oil and protruding belly button made it seem like a giant pimple, and I so desperately wanted to pop it.