KINKTOBER: DAY 9 (Patreon)

Day 9: Exhibition

WORD COUNT: 5k words

SUMMARY: Macy and her husband plan a revenge to steal the spotlight of one of Jaime's coworkers after Jaime doesn't get a promotion at work. The plan is very simple: she just has to push a baby out in the middle of the announcement dinner for the promotion.

TAGS: fpreg, birth kink, labor, birth denial, pushing the head back in, public birth on purpose, nsfw, +18

18:45

Jaime had busted his ass. Six months in which he had worked his ass off. Where he took endless extra hours, where he came home long after Macy had gone to sleep and left early, hours before she barely stirred in bed to start her day. She had seen her husband, out there, pouring every single ounce of his effort to get that damn promotion. And Macy understood, she really did. He wanted the best for his family. For her, for the baby.

Macy understood. Macy knew all the hard work he had done. And she agreed that it was unfair that it was not her husband's name on the board the day they announced who got the promotion. It was not fair that it wasn't Jaime's name that echoed through the meeting room. It wasn't fair that it wasn’t him who everyone went up to and congratulated, that it was not his back that got clapped and his work that got praised.

John was merely the boss’s nephew. And apparently, that was enough to get a promotion.

It wasn’t even about the money or about the parking spot or about the extra vacation days. It was the principle of all of it. Nothing mattered if nothing mattered.

That was why when Jaime said he wanted revenge, she was on board. As petty as it might sound, she understood. 

It was a petty thing for a man to want, almost childish, but she understood. And she wanted to do it. If Jaime’s effort was going to go under the radar, unappreciated and taken for granted just because John was the boss nephew’s, then it was justified. 

The plan was simple: they just wanted to steal the spotlight on the night of the promotion announcement dinner. Because, as if it wasn’t enough, the company thought the whole deal deserved a dinner to let the world know who the new executive director was. 

Macy was the one to come up with it first.

It had to be something dramatic, an even bigger notice that could overlook the promotion. Something like a marriage proposal —she remembered that time when Amy got proposed to at Marie’s wedding, and how now no one remembered Marie’s wedding, but Amy’s proposal.

But they were married already, duh.

Then, a pregnancy announcement. That one was also discarded, because it was not like she could hide it: she was nine months and one week pregnant, overdue with a huge baby and huge stomach that she was sure wouldn’t fit in any of her fancy dresses that night.

Then, one night over dinner, Macy said it. As a joke, you know. Just a thought, an idea thrown in the air. What could be possibly more dramatic than giving birth, in the middle of a fancy salon, with a hundred people staring? 

Fake her labor. Maybe a dramatic water breaking in the middle of the dance floor, some wailing, a quick escape to their car between lots of screams and a ruined dress. Jaime had looked up at her, fork frozen in the air right in front of his mouth, and blinked.

Macy thought he would say it was a stupid idea, but then—

“What if the whole shit was real?”

Well, unless her husband had some kind of direct line with god and could call and ask to please get her delivery date to be on the exact same day as the ceremony, or unless he fully trusted the approximate delivery date their doctor gave them, that was not going to work.

“We can induce it,” Jaime had said, leaning forward, a smirk on his face. “God, can you imagine it? That fucking bastard’s night ruined because someone just… pushed a baby in the middle of the damn dinner.”

Macy thought he was joking. But the look on her husband’s face told her that he was very fucking serious. And she could already see the gears in his brain grinding and working to find the way to make it happen.

They tried everything the days prior to the dinner. Spicy food —that Macy hadn’t tried in a while because she just couldn’t stomach anything with more than salt and pepper during her trimester—, she started taking long walks around the block, finally putting to use the matching workout set she had gotten for last Christmas. They had dance parties in the living room, and she even went to some bullshit acupuncture professional.

The only thing that worked was one of the marathon sex sessions they had been having, without fail, every single day prior to the dinner. The only thing that made her have contractions was the last desperate shot of rage sex with just a pinch of hope this morning that finally forced Macy to stop dead in her tracks as she bounced on top of Jaime, one hand flying to her stomach as she felt the muscle contracting.

It had worked. She was in labor. And everything was going according to plan.

Macy doubled over, one hand gripping the vanity as her body froze. Her free hand moved to press to the side of her gravid stomach, the palm of her open hand rubbing against the tense surface. The lipstick was forgotten, uncapped, in front of her, half her lips undone. 

“Oh, huh…” she breathed, tilting her head as the contraction went away. “Alright.”

That was a fast one. Sharp and short. Macy breathed, reaching again for her lipstick, straightening herself as she continued to apply the last touch of her makeup.

So far, it was almost as if the stars and her body and nature had aligned.

Her contractions had been coming and going all through the day, dull enough that Macy was able to do everything she had to do around the house. And only now, one hour away from the ceremony, they had picked up a pace that made her worry a bit. 

Strong, patterned, and fucking hard to get by now. Not enough to leave her unable to do anything but close her eyes and breathe, but enough to knock a bit of the air from her lungs when the sharp pain took over her middle.

“You alright?” Jaime asked as he walked in, adjusting his cuff links, distractedly nodding towards her stomach. “How is it going?”

Macy hummed, one hand moving to rest on top of her bump. “They’re… something now. I feel like they’re so much closer?”

“Do you…?”

“No, I don’t have to push yet,” she said, looking at him through the reflection in the mirror. “Just… a bit of pressure. It’s like he’s right there or something. It’s definitely there, but I'm just peachy.”

Jaime nodded, eyes sweeping over his wife’s body. Macy had put into a dress that had definitely stopped fitting around two months ago. Eye-catching, glitter and gold with a cleavage that definitely would bring some looks. That was a decent entrée. Of course, it was going to be easy for anyone to not look at the main dish of the night, because the huge stomach pressing against the fabric and protruding from her middle was not easy to ignore. Not when Macy looked like she couldn’t be one more minute pregnant —not far from the reality—, carrying so low, so tight.

Cherry on top, hopefully, was going to be ruining the expensive white leather of the chairs with amniotic fluid when she gave birth right in the middle of John’s speech.

Jaime fixed his shirt, put his watch on, and walked toward his wife. His hand smacked her ass. 

“Are you ready to go?” Jaime asked, looking at their reflection in the mirror. 

That was a borderline obscene dress. Macy looked down at herself, leaned forward, her gravid stomach pressing against the edge of the vanity as she checked her makeup. Flawless. 

She nodded.

19:52

It was an uncomfortable ride. 

Macy had sat down, shifted, squirmed, pushed her hips back and forward, leaned to the side, lifted her weight from one side of the seat to the other. She couldn’t wear the seatbelt because it was just so fucking uncomfortable. 

Jaime had shot her a few almost worried looks, but Macy had done her best to smile through the contractions and shake her head, assuring him she was just fine. Not only because she didn’t want to make a fuss before time, but because she could see in Jaime’s eyes that he wasn’t asking exactly because he was thrilled to get her to the hospital. 

She knew the exact way her husband’s eyes glowed when the strategy plan he had laid out was expected to be followed rigorously, and it was not in her plans to throw the plan out of the window.

The place was nice. Not too fancy for the occasion, but definitely not in the cheap range of anything. Macy breathed as her eyes looked outside the window, talking in the crowd of people already gathering at the entrance.

Jaime parked the car in the entrance just as a contraction took over her.

Shit. Macy moved a hand to the base of her stomach, fingers tightening against the tense muscle. She couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped her lips, the way her body tensed as she leaned forward, one of her hands gripping the car dashboard.

Woah. That was not what she wanted to be feeling right now. 

Jaime’s hand moved to rub her back, “What’s it?”

“Nothing, just…” Macy breathed, forcing herself to straighten in the seat. “That was a strong one.”

Jamie hummed, “And they’re coming faster, aren’t they?”

Macy nodded, her fingers brushing absently over her gravid stomach, still riding the last waves of pain coursing through her body. She shrugged and tilted her body to the side in the cramped space, moving to get out.

“It’s fine,” she forced a laugh, opening the door. “That’s kinda the whole deal, huh.”

20:31

The first thing she felt as soon as they stepped inside the place —besides the ache in her back and her hips and the suddenly uncomfortable feeling of her clothes tight against her body— was the surprised eyes of every person they passed on her stomach.

Without fail, their attention couldn't stay on her face or on Jaime; they couldn't help but look down, eyes going a bit wide, eyebrows furrowing at her gravid bump. Not only was she huge, but she was carrying so low. It was almost as if none of them believed a woman in her state should be there, wearing a dress like that and fucking heels.

Jaime's arm was linked with hers, slowly pacing around the place. Not only to greet all the people he knew, but also because he knew it was supposed to help labor progress. They couldn't afford any delays. A few laps around the place while Macy smiled and nodded at all the unwelcome hands that leaned forward and touched her stomach, laughing in incredulity when she lied to them she wasn't due for a few more weeks. 

They were half listening to one of Jaime's coworkers' stories about potato salad and birthday parties when her fingers tightened around Jaime's arm, nails digging at the fabric of the suit. God. She felt a strong contraction coming. 

Macy bit her own tongue when she felt the familiar feeling of her stomach tensing up, the pain taking over her middle. She nodded along at whatever the woman was saying, her brain trying to focus on keeping her breathing steady as she exhaled a deep breath. 

She was expecting the pain to go away. It didn't. Macy swallowed, clearing her throat. God, she wanted to move. She wanted to walk, to bend forward, to arch her back to escape the sudden pressure that wouldn't budge. 

Jaime's hand moved over hers on his arm, tightening around hers. One squeeze was enough for her to understand. 

Macy nodded, blinking as the pain finally went away, and she forced herself to stand straight, to move her hand to her go back to distractedly tapping on the top of her stomach instead of digging against the aching muscles of her back.

Her heart was suddenly beating a bit too fast. Not only because of the contraction that just ended, but because of the rush of adrenaline that rippled through her body at the idea that this was happening.  Her pussy throbbed as she played out the whole thing in her mind. She just had to wait a few more minutes.

20:51

Whoever designed these chairs did not design them with a heavily pregnant woman in mind.

Macy was almost sprawled in the chair. Her legs were spread wide, her heavy, gravid stomach resting on top of her thighs. If it weren’t for the white tablecloth, long and heavy that somewhat acted as a curtain to cover… well, the way she couldn’t sit straight in the chair, Macy would have drawn more looks than she wanted.

She was still smiling and nodding at every person who stopped at their table to say hello or to talk to Jaime. All while she tried very carefully not to let anyone see her hips rocking back and forward methodically, the way her body squirmed in dosed movements to try and escape the pressure that was now sitting down on her pelvis as the baby moved lower.

She could feel the baby moving down. Not like she had felt earlier in the day, not the awkward discomfort of the weight of her baby settling low and deep on her pelvis. This was painful. The pressure starting to form between her legs was uncomfortable, didn’t allow her to sit properly. She was close. She knew it.

John, dear John, had been walking around the place, greeting the people and staring at his own giant picture hanging on the stage. Macy could feel Jaime’s eyes burning on the other man; she could hear the quiet scoffs he let out every time one of the authorities patted John in the back and shook his hand. That should’ve been him. 

It felt like John was purposefully avoiding their table like the plague until he was finally forced to swoop by.

“Jaime,” John greeted, all sharp teeth, the smell of some expensive cologne filling Macy’s nostrils. “Macy.”

“John,” Jaime stood up, leaning in to shake the other man’s hand firmly. Too firmly.

“Look at you, Macy,” John turned to her, “You were definitely skinnier last time I saw you! When are you due? You look ready to pop that bastard out any moment now…!”

“Not due for another week,” Macy lied, nodding along with a smile. “Thought I would make the most out of my free time before the baby comes. Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Only the best for the best,” John shrugged with a laugh, pointing at himself.

Jaime replied something. Macy saw as John nodded in agreement and leaned in towards her husband, punching his shoulder affectionately.

Words were coming out of both men’s mouths, but she was no longer listening. The only thing that filled her brain was the sharp pain taking over her stomach, the sudden tightness in her middle that forced her body to jerk forward, her fingers gripping at the fabric of the tablecloth on her lap.

Holy shit. This was the worst contraction she had felt all day. She had to bite back a moan, her thighs trembling at the effort of remaining completely still, immobile, invisible not to catch John’s attention. 

Her jaw clenched when she felt the baby moving down. Not shifting inside of her, not pressing down, but properly pushing his head against her birth canal. She felt the exact moment when her body reacted to the pressure, and she had to dig her nails against her leg to keep herself from obeying all the signals her brain was sending her to push.

The contraction went away just as John turned around to leave. It couldn’t have been more than a minute, but to her, it felt like an eternity.

As soon as John was entertained with another table, she turned to Jaime. Her hand found his under the table.

“Babe,” Macy breathed, pulling him closer. “I feel him. It’s… shit, I can feel it.”

Jaime looked down at her stomach, then at his watch, then back to John’s shape moving away between the crowd. “Contractions?”

“Close,” Macy moaned quietly, her hips rocking against the chair. “Close enough.” 

“Alright. His speech will start in forty-five minutes,” Jaime raised his eyebrows. “You can hold it in.”

It was not a question. It was not a doubt. Jaime was telling her she had to hold it in.

Macy nodded. Her hand moved from Jaime’s to the base of her stomach, cupping the gravid mound and lifting slightly, as if that could erase the growing pressure. Her free hand moved to her back, fingers rubbing circles against the throbbing muscle.

She could hold it in. That was the plan, after all. She had to hold it in.

21:08

They had discussed and traced the plan one hundred times. What fools, they had been thinking that they could somewhat tame and bend nature to their liking. 

And it was a rather simple plan. She just had to push this baby out as soon as John opened his mouth for the big speech. What was not in the plan was how fast her contractions were coming. What they hadn’t anticipated (Jaime, who literally anticipated everything, his literal job was to assess possible risks in every operation) was how impossible it would be to ignore the pressure growing between her legs.

How fast the want would turn into the urge to push.

Macy had breathed. Had tried to remain stoic, looking forward, one hand pressing at the base of her stomach and the other digging against the soft flesh of her thighs. Shiny smile flashing at every passenger besides them, Jaime’s arm secured on the back of her chair.

The lights dimmed in the room. 

Macy turned her head around. The people were just beginning to properly sit down at their tables, the room was still buzzing with unfinished conversations and boring chitchat. She leaned towards Jaime.

“Jaime,” she whispered. “I—there’s pressure. There’s a lot of pressure.”

Jaime nodded. Leaned forward to take a sip of his champagne slowly, savoring every bubble before he put the cup back on the table. He leaned back on his chair, his head still staring straight forward. It was the hormones, she knew, but Marcy couldn’t stand it when he ignored her. She moved to lean in closer to him —big mistake. 

A sharp pain shot through her pelvis when she felt the weight of the baby crashing lower, taking her by surprise. She couldn’t suppress the abrupt moan that escaped her lips at the sudden tightening of her stomach, at the pain taking over her muscles.

That got Jaime’s attention.

“Hm-hm!” Macy choked, biting her lips to keep another moan from escaping. “Jaime-”

“I heard you,” Jaime replied, “Do you have to push?”

Macy swallowed. She forced her body back to her last position, pushing her hips back. Did she have to push? Yes. No. Well, something. She definitely could feel the baby moving lower, and she just knew in her body that she did not have that much time.

Could she hold it in? Yes. If she remained still, just like that, sitting down against the uncomfortable chair, and ignored the contractions that were now coming so fast, one almost on top of the other, yes. She could try.

But she was not sure how many more minutes she had in her.

“...yes,” she grunted, low, one of her hands gripping at the edge of the table. “I— think so. How long will this take? I don’t know if I can…”

Jaime licked his teeth. His hand flew to her stomach, his thumb brushing over the top in soothing circles. The touch was almost comforting, but before she could realize it, it was overwhelming. Too much pressure against her already tight and sensitive gravid womb, trapped behind the tight fabric of her dress. Macy shifted in place, breathing in a moan.

Jaime leaned in, his cologne hitting her nose and almost making her gag. She never liked that one. 

“You will hold it in until John gets up there,” he whispered, his warm lips brushing against her ear.

Macy gulped, biting her lip. Adam’s hand moved lower, his steady, heavy open palm moving over the gravid swell of her stomach slowly, almost as if he didn’t want to raise any suspicion. To anyone catching a glance, it was just a lovely scene of a husband rubbing her heavily pregnant wife's stomach, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear.

His hand moved lower, under the tablecloth. Macy’s hips jerked when she felt Jaime’s hands sliding up on her inner thighs, forcing her legs even more wide open. Then, she felt the cold air of the night when he raised the fabric of her dress up, sliding his warm hand beneath. Macy raised a hand, brushing a hand over her hair, fingers digging nervously at her skin as she tried, with all her composure, not to fucking whimper at the feeling of Jaime’s hand cupping her pussy.

She lost the battle when she felt him pulling her panties to the side.

“Fuck,” Macy moaned, covering her mouth with one hand, looking around. “What are you doing?”

Jaime slid one finger inside of her. Then another. Macy’s hips jerked at the feeling. God, she either was way too wet or she was dilated enough that he could just slide inside of her like that.

She swallowed when her husband’s fingers moved out of her. She was expecting him to pull away, but Marcy bit her lip again, stifling a whimper when Jaime’s thumb brushed a few circles over her swollen clit. 

“You’ll be fine,” he said lowly, finally taking his hands away, patting her stomach. “Things are moving fast, but I’m sure you can hold it in.”

“...yes,” Macy nodded. “I can, babe. Just– I just have to focus.”

21:30

They had grossly miscalculated again.  

If there was one thing Macy could be thankful for, it was that now the whole place was almost dark, and they were seated in one of the farthest corners ever. Besides the dimmed lights, the stage was brightly lit, ready and expectant for John, the golden boy of the night, to jump in and give the so-awaited speech. 

She was sure that if they were just one table ahead, the way she was sitting in her chair, hips pushed forward and bent in an awkward angle, hands gripping at her sides, her body leaning forward slightly, hunched over herself, would have caught the attention of the people surrounding them. 

That couldn’t happen. Not yet. Not when John was still walking around with his drink number one hundred of the night on hand, talking to everyone who crossed his path.

Jaime had been brooding each time he looked at the stage. At the ridiculous, pathetic ass huge photography of John's face right next to the mic podium. He thought it looked like a damn funeral. 

Macy had been trying not to push. Not in the just breathing and biting her tongue each time her stomach contracted —which now was happening too fast, too close—, not in the letting her knuckles turn white as she gripped the tablecloth to keep herself from screaming out loud way. But in the there was a baby actively trying to come out of her and her body was pushing even when her muscles were locked in trying to not let it happen.

Macy swallowed. Her legs were pressed closed together in the worst way, thighs trembling at the effort. The best thing she could do was to remain entirely still, face blank as she stared straight forward. If she moved, if she breathed wrong, it felt like this baby was going to just pop out of her. 

There was so much pressure. She could feel as if a bowling ball were trying to spread her open from the inside. 

Her stomach tightened again. Her knees pressed closer together. On the stage, someone was fixing the mic cables. John was standing right next to the stairs up to it, talking animatedly with a young woman. 

The pressure between her legs got worse. 

Macy's eyes snapped wide open, one of her hands flying to cover her mouth, trapping one of her fingers between her teeth to keep herself from screaming when she felt as if something was coming out of her. Her legs trembled, body leaning forward as her eyes darted around, making sure no one was looking at her. 

She felt the pressure slowly easing, just a bit, when she felt her water breaking, a gush of amniotic fluid bursting out of her pussy and dripping down the chair, staining her dress. 

She could hear the liquid slowly dripping down and hitting the floor. 

She let out a quiet gasp, her trembling body moving back down, a sharp pain shooting through her hips when she tried to sit upright again. The wet fabric of her dress stuck to the back of her legs, to the white faux leather of the chair. Macy looked down at the small puddle forming at her feet. 

She barely had time to think about what the fuck had just happened because before she could realize, the pressure was back. Worse. She was still feeling the amniotic fluid coming out in small streams from her pussy when she felt the head moving down.

Macy’s body jerked. Her feet pressed against the floor, fingers tightening around the tablecloth as she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She breathed. The head moved down. She could feel the pressure building up in her birth canal, the way her pussy was begging to bulge, her lips starting to stretch around the round mass moving down.

It was coming. Now. 

John was still talking to that damned girl. He nodded once, tilted his body towards the stage, his attention still half on the girl. He took one step towards the stage, ready to climb up the damn stairs. The girl said something, then nodded at John’s response, and just when it seemed like he finally was going to go up, her hand moved to rest on his forearm, fingers tightening around his muscles as she leaned in to keep talking.

Oh, fucking shit.

Macy’s legs jerked open when she felt the head pushing down. She couldn’t help it. It took her almost by surprise when she felt the sudden crashing down of the mass moving down, stretching her open, her swollen lips parting around the tip of her baby’s head. She felt her cunt bulging and opening, rubbing against the wet fabric of her panties. She let out a small yelp, catching herself before she was too loud.

She turned her body towards Jaime, one of her hands moving to his arm, fingers digging against the flesh of his forearm. Jaime turned to look at her with a frown at the sudden invasion, then he leaned in. She cut him off before he could say anything.

“It's coming out,” she hissed, squirming in her chair, her grip on her husband tightening, “Baby, it's coming out…!”

Jaime looked at her. Down to the wet spot forming on her dress and lower, where amniotic fluid was still slowly dripping to the floor in small droplets to the puddle of amniotic fluid on the floor. He could see the way Macy’s body was tensed, and he knew she was pushing, even if she was actively trying not to. Which was fucking not on the plan. His eyes darted up, looking for John in the sea of people. 

John was two steps up now, still talking to the same girl from before. Her hands were now both on her drink. He looked at his watch. God, just five more minutes.

“Oh…!” Macy Inhaled sharply, the hand on Jaime’s arm moving away to press against her mouth to drown the next whimper that escaped her lips.

Jaime felt her body trembling next to him. He stared as Macy’s body twitched, her hips jerking forward, her body doubling in a weird angle as her face went red. Then, he stared as a round shape started to form in her crotch between her spread legs, pushing against the tight fabric of her dress, a wet spot beginning to form around it. Shit.

It was obvious, but Macy still turned to him, eyes wide, sweat forming on her forehead as her legs trembled. Her hand moved back to his arm, nails digging against the fabric of his suit. “The head’s out…!” Macy gasped, her free hand closing into a fist, her nails digging against the skin of her palm.

Yeah, Jaime could see that. With deliberate slowness, he moved to daintily drape the tablecloth over her legs, covering the whole mess happening right under the table. Then, his hands slid under the fabric of her dress. Jaime leaned in closer, angling his body just right to feel the head crowning, almost dangling out of her, held in place by the damp fabric of her panties.

Jaime pressed the head back in. Not all in, just enough. 

“Nhhn!” Macy moaned against her hand. “Mh-hgn…!”

Her eyes closed at the feeling of the pressure, at the sudden burning spreading on her swollen pussy. Her legs threatened to snap closed together, but Jaime’s firm hand cupping the baby’s head did not allow it.

John moved. One step up. One step closer.

Macy closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was better to focus on the sharp, relentless pain of her tightening womb or the burning pressure between her legs. The clock ticked.

21:36

Jaime leaned in to press a kiss against Macy’s shoulder. “You’re doing so well, honey. Just hold on a bit more.”

Macy nodded. She couldn’t open her mouth without risking a shameful, loud moan escaping, her whole body trembling. 

She couldn’t stop pushing. She could feel her body trying to force the baby out, the head moving down every time her stomach contracted. It stretched her swollen hole over and over again, every time the head managed to slip out of her, only to crash against Jaime’s hand. He wasn’t pushing it back in, just not letting it fucking come out.

Her pussy was numb, but she didn’t need to reach down between her legs to know her cunt was swollen and leaking amniotic fluid through her bulging panties.

Macy almost let out a gasp of relief when she saw John jogging up the stairs. 

“Baby…” Macy moaned quietly, turning to look at Jaime. “Please, just… god, I need to push him out so bad. Please, he’s almost there-”

Jaime shushed her. The lights darkened, the spotlight shining on John's golden curls. A dull thump echoed through the quiet salon as John tapped the mic, clearing his throat. The man leaned in and finally started talking.

Hello. Good evening. Thank you for joining us tonight in celebrating me. Macy’s knuckles turned white as her fingers gripped her own thighs, her nails digging at the trembling flesh. God, she wanted this baby out fucking now. Macy was fucking ready to ruin this night, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her composure.

One joke. Two jokes. One flirty comment made towards John’s secretary. One apology to his wife. The head moved lower.

Macy let out a low moan. Jaime tensed by her side. Johnny boy kept talking.

The head pressed against Jaime’s palm. Jaime moved his palm back, just a bit. Just enough for Macy to feel her hole stretching around the widest part of the head again, pressure mounting up again on her burning pussy.

John took the small, ridiculous glass plaque with his name on it, held it up in the air like he just won a fucking Nobel. The man leaned in back towards the mic, ready to start with his shitty thank-you speech. 

Jaime moved his hand away. The head just fucking popped out of Macy with a gush of amniotic fluid.

Macy moaned, loud and clear as her body shook, hips pushing forward as her hands moved to brace herself from the table when she felt the head pushing out of her stretched hole, the amniotic fluid dripping from her to the floor. With trembling legs, she lifted her hips from the chair, feet standing wide as the baby’s head dangled between her legs.

“It’s coming!” Macy whimpered, “Oh, God, the baby is coming now!”

On stage, John was silent. One light turned on, then, the rest of the salon illuminated. 

Macy heard the sound of a chair scraping somewhere, then two, then three. Jaime was standing by her side, one of his hands on her lower back and the other reaching to lift her dress up. She felt the cold air hitting the wet back of her legs.

The baby’s head was pressing against the wet fabric of her underwear, still in place for that. 

Someone ran to their side. Then someone else. She heard something about calling an ambulance, the heat of a hundred eyes watching her bending over a table, with a baby crowning between her legs, made her legs tremble.

Jaime moved to pull her panties down, cupping the baby’s head. It only took her one more push before her body expelled the rest of the baby’s body into his father’s expectant arms, his cries filling the salon.

On stage, John was staring with wide eyes at the scene, and he had forgotten every single one of the lines he had so hard tried to memorize for tonight.