Not until your third month

After your dating spree you go right back to Trish. For weeks you devote yourself to making it all up to her. She never learns why you suddenly became so affectionate, chalking up your newfound sexual appetite and sensual outfits to hormones from her baby growing inside you. You feel bad about it - as you were once a guy you know that if your girl ever lavished this much attention and sex on you there's no way you'd suspect her of cheating.

Well... cheating is a bit strong, right? You went out, unwillingly, on a set of dates on the instructions of your tormentor. You certainly didn't sleep with anyone. Still, you can't help but think of it as treachery. Your new feminine feelings twist your heart, whispering to you again and again that it was emotional cheating. You didn't lay with those men but you thought about them, smiled at them, let them laugh and joke as they wined and dined with you. All while Trish sat at home watching reruns or eating leftovers.

Funnily enough it's your morning sickness that gets you out of the cycle of self-blame. It's bad too - five long weeks when you often have trouble keeping food down. You had read that some women don't get all the symptoms, but you are not one of the lucky ones. You're tired, irritable, sore and suddenly unable to eat spicy foods. The blandest concoctions become your friend. Trish does her best to care for you, mothering you and giving you lovely back rubs. You spend so much of your time wrapped in her arms, just enjoying the feeling of being held and the scent of her skin, her hair, that you finally put aside those memories and live in the now.

Whenever you aren't feeling sick you feel horny. Your body swings from one **** to the other, pregnancy hormones driving you to the bathroom, sometimes during the middle of sex. On the other hand you sometimes ambush her and unbutton her pants, **** for some of her salty, fantastic cum. Sometimes you wake up in the dead of night, throw up and, on returning to bed, straddle your girlfriend and wake her up by flexing your kegel muscles.

When your morning sickness finally dies down just over two months from the day Trish made you a mother you have only two days to relax before school starts. From there your thoughts about that night and the dates that followed recede even further. Every day becomes complicated and fun as you try to make yourself a part of the cliques and clubs at your new school. All the while you still have issues with being a girl - Trish's tutelage was hampered a little by both your morning sickness and your rampant desires.

Every night you return to the little residence room you now share with Trish to find your college sweetheart has cooked you an lovely meal. She isn't the best cook, but the thought is always what counts. Plus, you enjoy one nightly chore: doing the dishes. You never liked it at home, but now? With Trish standing behind you, rubbing your still concave tummy through your school blouse? With your girlfriend almost always tugging your panties down and gently impaling you with that massive shaft? Mmmm, dishes are the best chore ever!

Now in a lot of ways you should have got an ultrasound sooner. But the first one is mostly about dating the baby's conception. You know exactly when you created your little bundle of joy with Trish, so there wasn't much point. Another problem is that of all the records for this ID medical records are some of the ones that take longest to process. So waiting for the first 'real' ultrasound, the one at thirteen weeks, seems pretty reasonable. Bureaucracy, scheduling conflicts and frankly some laziness on your part push that out all the way to fifteen weeks.

Really that means that your 'first trimester' ultrasound will actually be in your second trimester, but hey, that kind of helps with the narrative you and Trish cooked up. You are supposed to be seventeen and a little clueless, so if you never had morning sickness (God how you wish that were true) then there's every reason for you to go unsuspecting until you feel a hardness in your belly and decide to check the cause of your non-existent period with a pregnancy test.

Your young and magically fit form doesn't even cooperate with your fake story. At fifteen weeks you still have trouble noticing your 'belly'. It's so small that you can't even call it that. Trish swears she can see it growing, but she is pretty baby crazy. You even consider delaying until you actually develop a bit of a bump, but worry over your child wins out.

You expect the nice and friendly nurse at the clinic to smear that cool paste across your belly, but apparently you weren't paying attention. The first ultrasound involves a wand jammed deep inside your vagina. You're kind of thankful for Trish's large size and her habit of manhandling you. You only grunt a little as the nurse moves the wand around inside you.

Trish squeezes your hand as a huge and very blurry form appears on the screen. The nurse looks confused and, after trying a few things with the wand she gives up and double checks the chart. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait for a bit my dear," she says. "Nothing's wrong, but I need to have a doctor verify this." You spend a few minutes trying to enjoy Trish's touch while sitting in a cool chair, legs up and in need of a bathroom break. When the nurse returns with a doctor she switches to a larger instrument. Thankfully this one ends up pressed to your belly and not rammed up your birth canal.

The image is much clearer and the nurse soon tells you that you are indeed carrying a nice healthy baby. Trish puts an arm around your shoulders and you smile, happy to finally and officially hear the news. The nurse keeps moving the wand and you hear her clear her throat. "Correction... healthy babies. Congratulations, you're having twins." And that's when Trish nearly squeezes the stuffing out of you.

"One of them is here," says the nurse, the doctor nodding sagely as she expertly slides the wand over your midsection. "And here's the other, nicely hidden down below. I'm sure they will be moving around pretty soon."

"How long do you think you've been pregnant?" asks the doctor, adjusting the paper on her clipboard.

"Oh, um, a month and a half?" you ask, lying well thanks to the utter shock you're still feeling.

"I have to tell you that these babies are larger than that. Even the smaller of the two would be at least two months old, but the larger one I would put at around three months."

You lie there, a sudden panicked thought racing through your mind. "Could you... uh, say that again?"

"You are pregnant with twins, you are most likely three months pregnant."

"Yes, yes, but one baby is smaller? A month smaller?"

"Yes," says the doctor, looking up at the screen again. "But that can happen. It's unusual for twins to differ in size by this amount, but they do both appear to be healthy."

You sink back into Trish's embrace and try to put aside your worries. You didn't sleep with any of them - sure, it would fit, it would be just the kind of **** the bitch would pull on you, but no - the only sperm that's swum up your vagina belongs to Trish.

You end up leaving the hospital in a daze, thoughts about your short-lived emotional infidelity brought back to the fore.