“He froze as a gush of warm fluid ran down his legs and splashed on the linoleum. A woman gasped behind him. ‘Oh my god—he’s in labor! Somebody help him!’ Suddenly, he was surrounded. A teenager offered him a yoga mat. A retired nurse dropped to her knees, shouting instructions. Someone pulled out their phone—to record, not to call an ambulance.

He wanted to vanish. His cheeks burned hotter than the contraction itself. But what mortified him more… was the throbbing between his legs. His body wasn’t just reacting to labor—it was reacting to being seen. ‘Please,’ he groaned, gripping the cart tighter, ‘don’t watch me—this is so embarrassing…’

A well-meaning stranger gently touched his back. ‘You’re doing amazing, honey. Just breathe. We’ve got you.’

He whimpered, both horrified and helpless. The next contraction hit—and to his shame, he moaned. Loudly.

Half the aisle thought it was pain. The other half? They knew better.”

Logan's heart raced as the contraction intensified. He could feel his face flush a deep crimson. Sweat beaded on his brow. The yoga mat beneath him felt damp with his broken water. He wanted to disappear, to climb inside the box of Cap'n Crunch on the shelf and hide. But he couldn't move, couldn't escape the dozen pairs of eyes fixed on him. Watching him. Waiting to see what would happen next.

"Oh my god," the retired nurse breathed as she knelt between his quivering thighs. Without hesitation, she reached inside him, assessing his progress. Her brow furrowed. "He's fully dilated. Baby's coming now. We don't have time to get him to a hospital."

Logan's attention snapped to her. "What? No, that's not...I can't..." He trailed off with a low moan as another wave of pressure overtook him. His hips bucked slightly of their own accord, seeking friction.

"Don't fight it," the nurse instructed, voice stern yet encouraging. "You're doing great. Keep pushing, nice and easy now..."

With a shaky exhale, Logand bore down. He could feel the baby moving inside him, each push bringing her closer to the world. But damn it, this wasn't how he'd imagined his first birth experience. Gritty linoleum digging into his knees. Barely any privacy. And to make matters worse...

His cock throbbed almost in time with his contractions. He was semi-hard and leaking, the loose maternity pants doing nothing to hide his body's shameful response to the exquisite sensations. He knew the onlookers had noticed too, judging by their whispers and knowing smirks.

One hand drifted to palm himself through his clothes. Just touching, distracting himself from the incredible pressure. But it felt so good he couldn't help rocking into his fist. A breathy moan escaped his lips, equal parts pleasure and exertion.

The nurse glanced up at him with a knowing look in her eye. "That's it. You're almost there. One more big push and she'll be out. You've got this."

Logan nodded jerkily, almost too focused on his impending orgasm to care about the impending birth. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his body take over, hips undulating as he chased his peak. The world fell away until it was just him and the heat building in his core, tighter and tighter—

With a final, guttural groan, he came undone. Ecstasy crashed through him in wave after wave. At the same time, a wet squelch and a wail. The nurse held up a squirming, bloody infant girl.

"Congratulations, it's a girl! 7 lbs 9 oz and she's a strong one."

Logan barely registered the babble of excitement around him. His heart swelled with love and relief as he took his daughter into his arms. But there was no mistaking the slick fluid now staining his pants a deeper shade of pink. Or the knowing murmurs of the crowd.

"Look at him go, spanking his monkey right there in the cereal aisle."

"I knew he was a little slut the moment I saw him in those tight pants."

"I bet that nurse is getting off on it too. Dirty old perv."

Logan flushed, suddenly feeling very exposed. Very vulnerable. He wanted to cover himself, to tuck his new baby to his chest and slink away. But he was still vulnerable, still open for all to see.

He held his daughter close and bowed his head, letting his hair fall forward to shield his burning face. "Please," he whispered to no one in particular. "Can we have a minute? To clean up and...and be a family for a bit?"

The crowd shifted and slowly dispersed to give them space. Well-meaning hands let him have extra wipes and onesies for the baby. Someone even tucked a crisp hundred dollar bill into his pocket with a pat on the shoulder.

But they didn't leave. They lingered at a polite distance, waiting to catch another glimpse of the mystical marvel who'd just given birth in their local grocery store.

Logan stared down at his daughter's scrunched face, still slick and purple. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "Sorry you had to enter the world like this. Surrounded by gawkers and voyeurs. I just...I didn't mean for things to happen this way."

She just blinked up at him, unfazed and trusting. He knew then that he'd do anything for her. Anything to keep her safe and happy, even if it meant enduring a little mortification of his own.

Slowly, he drew himself to his feet, one hand cradling Kameron and the other holding his pants closed. He gathered his meager shopping basket and headed for the checkout. Head held high on his shoulders, he ignored the whispers and pointing as he passed.

Let them gawk. Let them gossip and speculate. He had his daughter. His perfect little girl, already the love of his life. And he knew that he'd give her the world, no matter how public the miracle of her birth had been.