#birth fiction | shhhsecretsideblog (2024)

Had this idea stuck in my head for past few days so had to write it up. Quick little oneshot, 1.6k words. Self inflicted birth denial, clothing birth, voyeurism, but soft fluffy ending. Enjoy.

You were working late again. The sun had set hours ago, the dark evening sky barely visible through the windows, the office an unusually quiet ghost town. Unfortunately the conference call with your American counterparts could not be moved and with the time difference you had to stay late, long after the rest of your company had gone home for the day. Well you weren’t entirely alone this evening; your wife, and joint business owner, also stayed late deciding to finish up some things before she went on maternity leave next week. It made sense to work the same hours and go home together.

When your meeting was finished, you packed up your things and headed down the corridor towards her office. The door was slightly ajar, you were just about to knock and enter when you heard a long quiet moaning sound.

You paused, putting an ear closer towards the crack in the door, a smile pulling at your lips realising what she was doing. The pregnancy had made her insatiably horny, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d relieved that itch here in this office. Though you were a little miffed she hadn’t invited you this time deciding to go at it solo.

“Mmmnggh- oh god!” Moaned your wife beyond the door.

The arousing sounds had an immediate effect on you, turning you on despite the late hour and the long work day. You quietly opened the door a little more, wanting to watch and catch her in the act. But instead of seeing her in her chair with one hand down her pants as you expected, she was standing, her back to the door, bracing the wooden desk and swaying her hips.

“Oooohhhh-…don’t come now…” she moaned quietly.

What on earth was she doing, you wondered. The question was soon answered when she grunted and slightly squatted in front of her desk.

Oh my god, she was in labour! Panic clenched your heart. You should rush into her office, to help and support her, but her continued moaning and grunting kept the arousal firm in your pants. You couldn’t go in there like this.

“Mmmmmffh- baby wait a bit longer please!” She panted and shifted around the room, unaware of your presence. “Your daddy is in an important m-meeting… mnnnnhh… when he’s finished he can - take us - to hospital… then you can come o-outtt… nnnnngghh”

You watched the way her hips circled in between each contraction, the way her knees dipped at every pain, the way her beautifully tight round stomach having dropped low on her hips a few days ago contracted visibly through her thin dress, the way her swollen breasts heaved with every laboured breath. The sight had you frozen, in fear and fascination and arousal, leaving you standing in the dark corridor watching her through the gap in the doorframe.

“Oooohhhh it’s so low…. Mnnnnghhh-oh god! I t-think..I need to p-push… hooohooohooohooo no! Not now… daddy isn’t here yet…”

Your labouring wife grasped the edge of her desk, moaning and whimpering. Her stance had widened, her knees were buckling, and yet you couldn’t move. Every sound escaping from her lips pumped more blood to your groin.

“Nnnnngghhhh!” She leant an elbow down on the desk, her other hand cupping the swell of her heavy stomach which just accentuated the size of her full term bump. It really was huge, you had no idea how she managed to carry the extra weight and still dress the way she did - in her staple black dress and heels. Even when heavily pregnant she was still every inch the successful corporate woman you fell in love with.

“Hooohooo- you can’t come out now baby…. Please. Oooohhhh…Don’t push… don’t push…”she panted a mantra to herself.

You were transfixed; watching her struggle and sweat and labour in the office where your baby was probably conceived.

Suddenly she grunted, a deep gravelly sound, and you nearly climaxed in your pants.

“Oh my god…was that- sh*t, my water just b-b-broke!” She looked past her swollen stomach to see her stiletto heels now soaked in amniotic fluid. “Ooooohhhhh… Y-you’re really coming n-now aren’t you little o-one? Hoooooo- where’s… where’s your dad?”

Rubbing her contracting stomach and raising her head, your wife looked towards the door. You had no idea why but you disappeared out of sight the second she looked up, concealing yourself behind the wooden door. You should go in, you should help her, she was having your baby. And yet, your legs didn’t move.

“Okay… okay baby. Looks like hooooo it’s just you and m-me…” You heard her say, still out of sight but well within earshot. You heard movement inside the room and took a chance peeking round the door.

She had kicked off her heels and lowered herself to the ground, kneeling beside her desk with her arms up gripping the edge. She hummed, rocking slightly back forth, clearly preparing herself for the next wave. Then suddenly she sucked in a gulp of air before letting out a long lowing sound, deep and primal, and sinking back on her heels as she pushed. Hard.

Your jaw slackened, watching fascinated from outside. This woman was incredible, absolutely beautiful, listening to her body and following her instincts, birthing your baby right here in her office. You fell more and more in love with her with every grunting sound she made.

“Mmnnnggghhhh!!!!!!!” She roared, “f*ck…. The head… I can feel it coming….”

She let go of the desk, a little unsteady without the support, scrambling underneath her flowing dress. Oh my god, she was delivering your baby, right here right now.

“Oh oh oh no- I can’t…. get-them-off!!!!” She cried, and you realised she was still wearing her underwear and was struggling to get them past her hips with her widened knees.

“Hooooohoooo oh baby wait a second… need to make room… I’ve got to take them off… I’ve got to…. I’ve got to…. Oh sh*t I’ve gotta pushhhhhh-NNNNGGGGGH!”

Your wife growled again, bearing down with everything she had despite her underwear blocking the baby’s exit. It was the hottest sound you’d ever heard. She gasped in between pushes, trying to tug her knickers out of the way. But to no avail.

“Oohhhhhhh I can feel you…. Oh my god there’s your h-head-hoooohoooo.” Her dress was pulled up and you could see her cupping the bulge that was pushing against the fabric of her underwear.

You baby was crowning, but your wife was struggling. The fierce lioness from a moment ago, who was confidently delivering her baby unassisted, was starting to panic. The baby was coming out and she was pushing hard, but she couldn’t move to take off her underwear, the head retreating after every push by the restrictive fabric. You could see the panic gathering in her eyes as she failed to break free from her knickers and her body struggled to birth the head. Tears welled in her eyes and it broke your heart; the spell of your voyeurism vanished in a heartbeat.

You immediately threw open the door and rushed over to her.

“Oh sweetheart.” You whispered, kneeling down beside her.

“You- you made it. Hooooo The baby…. is coming….” She grasped on to your for dear life, pulling at the lapels on your suit jacket as she grunted and pushed again.

“You are doing amazing, darling.” You encouraged, supporting her weight under her arms.

“Get-my-pants-off-now!!!!” She growled against your chest.

“Okay, just hold on to me. I’ll get them off.” You assured, moving her trembling hands to your shoulders, freeing your own to help deliver this child.

The thin material stretched across her widened hips, you hooked your thumb on either side and pulled down but they would only go so far with her knees splayed.

“I need to you move a little bit-”

“Move?! Are you serious? I can’t move! Grrgghhh!”

“Just a little bit darling, I need your knees closer together so I can get these knickers off…”

“I can’t… this baby needs to come out now. Oh god I need to push!!!!! Just get them off-get them off!!!”

You tried to rip the fabric but it was stretched too tight you couldn’t break it. Frantically you looked around to see if anything else could help, and thankfully your eyes found the scissors on your wife’s desk. Grabbing them quickly, you carefully cut the fabric at one hip and they immediately fell to the floor.

“Oh thank f*ck!” Your wife gasped, still clinging on to your shoulders she widened her legs and sank closer to the floor in a deep strong push. “Here it comes…. MNNNGGGHHHHH!”

Before you could react, the head popped out with another gush of fluid. Your wife eased her grip on you, panting heavily in relief.

“Hoooohoooo- oh my god… that’s our baby.” Her hand cupped the newly born head, and she looked up at you and smiled.

“You are incredible.” You kissed her sweat-dampened forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in labour?”

“I didn’t realise I was in labour, and when I did… hooooohoooo you were on your conference call. I knew it was important and I thought I had plenty of t-time… ooooohhhhhh god. I’m feeling pressure again….”

“Do you need to push? Is it time?”

“I think so… mmmnnnnh… are you ready to meet our b-baby?” You wife asked, a smile still tugging at her lips despite the rising pain.

“Of course, let’s meet our baby.”

Your wife shifted, stealing herself ready for the peak of the contraction that was building. Her hands braced against your shoulders, while your own were poised ready between her thighs.

Your beautiful wife grunted again, deep and long, as she pushed. You held her hips steady when she twitched and yelped as the shoulders stretched her wide, and a few seconds later your baby was born into your hands. A baby boy born at 8:56pm on the floor in your wife’s office at the company you’d build together.