Having left your bike at Randall's two weeks prior, and being unable to use your mom's car, you were left with little choice but to head over there on foot. Figuring that it was worth it though as you finally arrived a good forty or so minutes later on Randall's street. Receiving a text from him not thirty seconds later, wondering where exactly you were.
Telling him that you'd be there in "2 secs", you hurried up his driveway and approached the door. Spotting your bike still leaning up against the side wall, just where you had left it. Thank goodness for that. It was after all your only dependable mode of transport, at least until you got your own car. Which given how much your mother trusted you would be probably be never. That wasn't really important right now though. You were here. You'd made it. After two long weeks you'd finally get to spend some time with your best friend again. Whatever that might entail.
Knocking on the door, you heard a voice from inside call out, "Come on in, dude. The door's open." And you let yourself inside. Finding no immediate sign of Randall. "Yo, where are you?" you asked, looking first in the living room and then the kitchen. Seeing no sign of him there either.
"I'm up here, numb-nuts!" he replied. His voice clearly coming from upstairs.
Though curious as to what he was doing and why he hadn't come down, you headed back out into the foyer and spotted a figure standing waiting for you at the top of the stairs. Your reaction on seeing him there being, Oh... My God!
How to even describe it?
There he stood, just as you had fantasized about numerous times these last few weeks, dressed exactly as he had been in that photo he'd sent you. Barely even a hair out of place. His makeup was done beautifully. Sexual and smoldering, yet not slutty. While delicate lace and silk was wrapped around his skin. His huge breasts encased as they had been in that expensive looking black bra. Save for his nipples, which just as in the photograph were peeking out proudly for all to see. Beneath that, his waist and belly were contained within that very same little waspie corset. His toned legs in the same garters and stockings. His hands and arms both covered by the same three quarter length opera gloves, and his feet perched in the exact same pair of shiny black heels. It truly was a sight to behold. One thing the photograph certainly could not do was illustrate the beautiful, rose-oil like scent that seemed to emanate from his body, as it wafted down the stairs and into your nose.
"So what do you think?" he smiled, knowing full well what the answer was. "Was it worth the wait?"
It most definitely was, and you could already feel your erection growing as you scanned every single inch of his body. Noting that just as you assumed in the photo, he most definitely was not wearing any panties. His crotch being both bare and immaculately groomed. A hint of his vagina just visible from the way he was standing.
Letting out a chuckle as you just stood there staring at him with your mouth agape, he said, "Well don't go all quiet on me now, dude. You know how long it took to get all this on?"
"So-sorry," you stuttered, pulling yourself from your daze. "You look hot as fuck!"
"Don't I just?" he smirked, and with that he turned slightly, giving you an unobstructed view of that glorious peachy round ass. It looking so good that you just wanted to take a bite out of it. Before then disappearing from view.
"Well, what are you waiting for down there?" you heard him call out a few seconds later. "I'm horny as fuck and you've got a hole fill!" This last part motivating you to climb those stairs as fast as humanly possible. Chasing after him into his room.
An hour and three rounds of mind-blowing sex later, you collapsed back down on Randall's bed, completely worn out. Randall having surprised you with all kinds of moves and positions that you'd never even contemplated before. Having seemingly grown more experienced since the last time you'd done it in this very same bed. Having in fact, finished you off this last time solely using his tits. Causing you to blow your wad all over those two heaving globes. Something that before you never would have even dreamed of doing. Assuming it would have totally grossed him out.
"Shit... That was... That was awesome!" you panted, looking over at your similarly satisfied friend and spotting all the little sticky white globules now coating his skin. "Sorry about... you know, cumming on you like that. You... you want me to wipe it off?"
"Nah, it's... it's cool," he replied, much to your surprise. "It's only cum." Being rather blase about the whole thing. "I usually end up with it inside me anyway. Doesn't make that much of a difference having it on me."
Wow. He really has come a long way.
"Besides, I guess it's kinda payback for me squirting all over you." This, having been something he'd done earlier while you were going down on him. Instructing you exactly where to put your fingers to make it happen. Which came as quite a surprise, you had to say. Suddenly being blasted in the face by a thin stream of transparent juice as he screamed and shrieked in absolute joy.
"I'll say," you laughed. Pretty certain that you still had it all over your face. "How the hell did you learn to do that anyway?"
"Uhm... just kind of experimenting and shit. Plus, you can find out just about anything on the net these days."
I guess you can, you thought, pulling yourself up then to assess the combined mess you'd made of the bedsheets. Asking, "So what now?" Curious to know if there was more sex to come or if it was perhaps time for something else. Feeling unsure if physically you'd actually be able to go another round, but figuring if anything could motivate your body it would be the vision of femininity laying there beside you, still dressed up in all that lingerie (minus the heels).
Thankfully Randall had had enough himself for the time being too, telling you then as he swung his long stockinged legs over the edge of the bed, "Now, we shower. Cause I for one and not gonna spend the rest of the day with your jizz on me, that's for damn sure."
And so, taking turns in the shower, you did just that. Cleaning both yourselves and changing the bedsheets, before getting dressed. Him, into some normal clothes and you, into the ones you'd arrived in. Noticing as you did that Randall's little belly had gotten noticeably bigger since the last time you seen it (having previously been hidden by his corset). Sticking out all the more as he pulled on his sweatshirt.
Putting this to him a little later, while you were in his workout room helping him shift some gym equipment, Randall responded, "Yeah. Seems I have been putting on a few more pounds of late. Haven't really been keeping up with Miss. Card's exercise regime and diet truth be told. Which is one of the reasons I needed a hand shifting all this. Need to get back on the treadmill. Burn some of it off."
"Heh. Never thought I'd hear you say that," you chuckled. Thinking back to how he was when he was a guy. "You used to be such a beanpole, and no matter how much crap you ate, you never got fat."
"Welcome to the world of being a chick," he told you with a sigh. "Eat more than a lettuce leaf and it all goes immediately to your tits, or your stomach, or your ass!"
This, truth be told, you weren't so sure about. Miss. Card's ass having always been massive. Pushing out spectacularly as it was from a pair of green yoga pants.
"Anyway, quit your yapping and get moving that thing will you," he said. Indicating to the exercise bike you'd been half way through lifting. Having momentarily distracted him from what you were meant to be doing. "Otherwise I don't know what the hell I'm paying you for."
This, was the last said on the subject for a while. Having no reason to doubt what your friend had said. Putting his ever increasing stomach exclusively down to a lack of exercise and a change in his body's diet. That was until nearly two weeks later when you overheard a couple of girls talking about him during class...
"...Miss. Card? The History teacher? I thought she was just getting fat," one of them said. The two of them whispering away in the row behind you.
"So did I, but she hasn't really put on weight anywhere else..."
"Apart from her boobs," the first girl interjected.
"Apart from her boobs." the second girl agreed. Telling her friend, "If you ask me, she's totally pregnant. There's no other explanation. Melissa Ranch even thinks Mr. Hanson's the father. She's always palling around with him."
Pregnant?! ...No fucking way, you thought to yourself as you listened in. Finding this leap to be completely and utterly ridiculous. There's no way in hell Randall's pregnant. After all, he'd know right? It was just extra belly weight from eating too much crap. He'd told you as much himself.
This didn't stop the rumors from spreading though. Hearing more and more people gossiping about it over the next several days. The general consensus being that Randall was indeed pregnant. Even hearing it from out of Sean's mouth...
"Yeah, Denise Taylor was telling everyone that it's Principle Johnson's baby and that they've been having like a secret affair," he told you, after you'd asked him if he heard any of these rumors himself. "You think its true? I mean, you said you know her. She's like a friend of the family and stuff."
"I uh... I don't know," you replied. No longer certain what to think. Randall was most definitely not having an affair with Johnson, nor Mr. Hanson as far as you knew, but could he actually be pregnant? Was that even a possibility? You really needed to find out ...And fast!
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