Your eye catches the movement of the latex toward you again. Not wanting any more of what it has to offer, you try to push yourself up, but the unfamiliar weight of your belly throws off your center of balance, making your hands slide back instead.
Your slight faltering is more than enough time for the latex puddle to catch up and leap onto your belly. You give a slight shudder as the cool, liquid-like substance slithers across your swollen expanse before sliding beneath your pushed-up shirt.
Support yourself with one hand, you try to slap and grab at the latex as it roves beneath your shirt, but it easily slips away. As you fight, you can see the lump of latex move up to the center of your chest, then split into two globs that part to either side. You can guess what's happening and you redouble your efforts to beat the latex back, even though you know its useless.
You feel a strange sucking sensation around each of your nipples as the globs fasten to you. The roundish growths show through your shirt, and you sigh, not really having to look beneath to know what they probably look like. The sigh ends as a gasp, however, as you see your shirt begin to rise against the suddenly swelling mounds. Your view of your belly begins to diminish as they grow against your shirt, and you suddenly realize you can feel your nipples rubbing against the fabric. --No; not your nipples, you think, but the nipples of the latex. The ones you can now plainly see protruding against your continuously stretching shirt. But you can still feel them. You can feel all of the growth, in fact!
Your shirt now starts losing its claim on your chest, and you give a startled gasp as it rides up and stops against your nipples. You reluctantly remove it only to confirm what you feared all along: Two black, latex breasts are sitting on your chest, still growing until they thankfully slow to a stop a couple seconds later. Each swollen mass is topped with a puffy nipple, surprisingly enough gray in color.
Siting breathless for a second to ensure the growth has truly stopped, you replant your hands beneath you and get up with a large grunt, instinctively placing one hand on the small of your back to even the new frontal weight as you rise to your feet.
Your new breasts are drawn down a bit by gravity, but still stand out roundly without showing much signs of sagging. The bottoms of each one sit on your large belly, just slightly sliding off in opposite directions down the natural dome-like slope.
You slide your hands between your belly and breasts, hefting each orb. A slight tingle passes through you as you do so, which you almost immediately are ashamed of. The masses jiggle, both definitely more than a handful and feeling full; in fact, you swear you can feel a bit of sloshing. There's a small squeaking as you experimentally squeeze your breasts together and they rub against each other.
If you thought you looked like a pregnant woman before, you definitely do now. The only difference is that your natural-looking belly is an odd match with your shiny, latex jugs.