Overripe - Part 2 (Patreon)

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Hudson lay half-reclined in bed days later, nearly swallowed by the pillows stacked behind him. His hairy belly was enormous beyond reason, bursting with life at 30 agonizing days overdue, looking almost bigger than the rest of his body, and moving every single second of the day as the 10 massive babies rolled, kicked, and turned even though they had run out of space in the womb weeks ago. His constant shifting had rumpled the sheets, and his monumental weight made the mattress sink and strain.

The gigantic middle reached from his chest to past his knees, pressurized to the max, with blue veins faintly visible beneath the pale skin that had stretched so thin it gleamed almost translucent over the ten restless bodies that kicked up a storm day and night. Every subtle motion could be seen even from far: a ripple sweeping from one side to the other, a sudden jab, or the sharp contour of a limb pressing outward.

The whole structure moved independently from the rest of his body, shifting, swelling, rolling, and drawing a constant chorus of groans and grunts from Hudson. Each baby weighed around 13 pounds at this point, so each motion made the skin bulge and creak. It stretched so tight that even the gentlest roll beneath made the surface visibly strain as if it were about to tear. But the immensity didn’t end there.

Hudson’s tits had grown into vast globes of meat, fat, and milk, thickly furred and gleaming with sweat. The squishy fullness had buried the muscles beneath, and the flesh pulled taut, making the roundness stand proud and aching. His nipples were dark, swollen, perpetually sore, and slick with an involuntary trickle that never seemed to stop. The ache there was unstoppable, making his engorged nipples throb with each heartbeat as milk leaked from them.

His hips had spread wide, thickly padded with new fat gained from almost permanent immobility and strain. Each curve pressed deep into the bed, and his thighs were broad and firm from carrying so much weight for so long, even though he could barely stand now. His gigantic ass was heavy and rounded, and even when its shape almost disappeared beneath the drape of sheets, its size and thickness were undeniable. He had always loved having a thick ass, but it had reached ridiculous proportions that didn’t let him wear anything these days.

When he shifted, the bed protested, and springs groaned under the burden. Every inch of his body felt overheated, as if his “oven” was working overtime to make his whole body swell like dough. He could feel his heart pumping blood in frantic beats to support his enormous body, the subtle pulse along his sides, the insistent churn in his tits as they produced ridiculous volumes of milk, and the resonant throb in his core to sustain the ten lives that grew inside him.

Hudson couldn’t control the sounds he made—the stretch of skin, the faint squelch of movement, and the occasional sigh as he rubbed his hand over the taut skin. With each labored breath, his ribs rose under the strain, and a low grunt escaped his lips as the mass inside shifted. He spent most of his days rubbing his belly, brushing his fingertips at the sides, caressing the upper curve, and gently touching the areas he could reach because he had grown too massive to cover the whole surface.

So, 30 days overdue, in permanent bedrest, panting heavily, and hoping to pop today, Hudson’s hands slid over the taut, overheated surface; the babies stirred under his touch, rolling and pushing with restless insistence; and the skin trembled beneath his hand, thin and overstretched, as if each movement might split him open. A groan slipped from his lips when a strong kick hit the top of his belly as his body reacted with pain and odd pleasure.

He shifted slightly, bringing one hand up to his throbbing tits. He sighed, marveling at their tightness as milk sloshed inside and pressed at the swollen peaks. His nipples ached, hypersensitive to every touch. He cupped one tit with both hands, shaking his head for the millionth time in disbelief at how tiny his large hands looked over the mound—larger than a basketball. He kneaded carefully, pressing his fingers into the hairy skin and letting out an involuntary moan that betrayed how good his touch felt. He felt a thick trickle of milk leaving his nipple, traveling down the lower part of his tit, and going down his rounded side.

He let his head fall back against the pillows, breathing deeply, and groaning as he felt his body on the verge of bursting. “I don’t think I can take much more of this,” he whispered to himself and the children inside him as his hands moved back to the top of his belly. “You’ve got to come out soon, or someone has to make me pop,” he added, with a tone that wavered between plea and humor, exhaustion and longing. Another baby kicked hard against his ribs, and he gasped, pressing his hand firmly on the spot to feel the roll of motion. “You’re all still growing in there, aren’t you? I can feel it. But please give me a break. I can’t do this anymore.”

For a moment, his eyes softened. He sighed, smiling faintly despite the ache. “I’m kidding. You’ll say your daddy’s crazy, but I’ll miss being this full,” he whispered, as if telling his babies a secret nobody else could ever know. “The feeling of all of you growing inside me and moving so much. I’ll miss it.” His hand remained over the place where he felt the strongest motion, and his expression shifted between pride and disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m a whole month overdue. You’re making me swell beyond the edge of possibility.”

It was the 310th day of his pregnancy, and even though everything was tight, swollen, and strained beyond reason, he stayed in bed, talking to the babies while waiting for the doctor to check on him again. His hands moved from his belly to his overfilled tits and back to his middle when a baby left him breathless with a punch to his lungs, and despite everything, he smiled while looking down at his overripe body.

His attention moved to the door when Marcus entered, making Hudson smile even more. Even after all they had gone through, Hudson couldn’t help but bite his lower lip in lust as his eyes scanned Marcus’ massive body up and down. However, he had to control the urge to beg for a fuck when he saw the doctor walking in right behind the big guy.

The doctor’s visits had become part of the rhythm of their days, given the outstanding circumstances. He visited Hudson at least every other day, but today there was something different in his expression. It wasn’t only concern like all the previous times, but a hint of awe appeared on his face when he processed what Hudson’s body had reached.

Marcus approached and leaned in to kiss Hudson’s lips, moving his large hand over the overstretched pregnant belly. “How are you feeling now?” He whispered.

“Like I’m on the verge of bursting, but that’s nothing new,” he whispered back, carefully placing both hands at the sides of his middle as if trying to hold everything together.

The doctor approached, setting his bag on the nightstand and giving Hudson a sympathetic smile. “Good morning, Hudson,” he said. “I can see the babies have kept you busy. How’s everything feeling today?”

Hudson chuckled breathlessly but smiled at the doctor. “As I was telling Marcus, I feel like I’m going to split if I sneeze.”

The doctor laughed softly and smiled knowingly. “Let’s make sure you won’t split then,” he said, getting right by Hudson’s side and pressing his hand to the taut side, palpating gently at first, then more deeply as he sought each shape and limb beneath the glasslike surface.

The touch made Hudson tense immediately, and his entire belly jumped beneath the doctor’s hands as the skin drew tight as a drum. A groan slipped from him before he could stop it, echoing off the quiet walls as the babies reacted violently to the intrusion. One baby rolled hard against the touch, and another pressed out high near his daddy’s ribs until the ridge of a foot stood out clearly under his skin.

Hudson gasped loudly, getting breathless again, and instinctively reached for the area where the foot still made his overstuffed womb bulge. The sensation was half pain and half astonishment as his skin felt stretched to near breaking point—but surprisingly, it handled the pressure. He felt another foot or a hand pressing right below his belly button, which had once been deep and furred but now had gotten glossy and stretched oval, like a pale indentation that trembled at the center of the strain.

The doctor’s fingertips glided past the belly button, and Hudson could feel the taut ring of skin pulling and a faint tug that made him gasp. Still, the doctor continued tracing the impossible geography with his fingers, exploring the hillocks and ridges where tiny bodies pressed, and feeling waves of motion that seemed too much for one frame to contain. He pressed his stethoscope to different spots, hearing the symphony of heartbeats going together like delicate music under the stretched skin.

Hudson’s breathing grew shallow, and his chest heaved as the motion inside him intensified. “Ugh. I don’t know how they can move so much with so little space,” he said, breathless and barely able to speak as he tried to endure the examination.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths,” the doctor said, moving his hands off Hudson’s belly to let him rest. “The babies are still strong,” he said, marveling at the scene, “and so are you.”

Hudson managed a smile between groans as the babies moved some more. “Ugh! T-thanks. I’m happy to hear it…” he said, feeling Marcus touch his belly to soothe the babies.

The doctor smiled and gathered his tools before sitting in a nearby chair by Hudson’s bed. “You’ve reached a month overdue, Hudson. There’s no more textbook to follow. Well, there never was a plan to follow, given the fact that you’re a man carrying ten babies. “Impossible” and “unknown” are written everywhere. Your skin, your muscles, and your whole body have reached their limits.”

“Oh, tell me about it.” Hudson chuckled, and even that subtle motion made his tits bounce as his hands moved instinctively to the side of his belly, where a heel nudged beneath the surface. “So what happens now?”

“I’ll give you forty-eight hours,” the doctor responded calmly. “If labor doesn’t start naturally, we’ll step in. But I’d like to give your body that chance first.” He paused, watching Hudson’s tired face. “I know it’s not ideal, but in your case, inducing or forcing a surgical delivery could be dangerous. Your body has adapted in ways we don’t understand. Your muscles, organs, and even the placement of the womb itself seem too perfect to endure all of this. So, letting nature trigger the process gives the tissue time to signal readiness and to soften in sequence. If we rush it, we risk trauma to you or the babies. You’ve done something no one thought possible, but we have no clue what to expect with a body like yours, so we need to stick as much as possible to what your body feels like doing. I think the babies are more than ready to come out, so maybe you could try with natural methods to trigger labor?”

Hudson laughed softly, groaning right after as the motion applied pressure over his lower abdomen. “We’ve tried everything. Spicy food, walking around, even though I can barely move. Marcus even got me a yoga ball for me to bounce on, but I feared it would burst under my weight. We’ve tried massages, and—”

“Sex,” Marcus said aloud, proudly as Hudson blushed deeply. “Constant, long, passionate. Every single day, often several times a day. I’ve tried every position and speed, every angle, going deep into, you know, him, but nothing works.”

“W–we have tried it, a lot,” Hudson confirmed, barely audible as he felt his cock throbbing hard beneath his immense belly while his mind drifted to Marcus’s monster cock. “But the babies refuse to come out. If I’m honest, it only makes them more active.”

The doctor laughed and stood up to leave. “They seem determined to do this on their own time. And we’d better let them have it their way. But you can always keep trying,” he said, shaking Hudson’s hand, who blushed, and then Marcus’s, who smirked proudly. “Rest. Hydrate. You’re almost there. Call me immediately if anything happens.”

When the doctor left, Hudson leaned back again, closing his eyes and panting heavily as if he had just run a mile. Marcus’s hand slid from his shoulder to the immensely swollen tits, feeling their fullness and smiling at the sight. Marcus’s eyes softened as he looked down at the man carrying his massive babies. He brushed his thumb over Hudson’s damp skin, lovingly applying pressure on the spots that felt the tightest.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you. Look at you! You’re enormous. Carrying our babies so nicely. You’re so hot. You’re perfect,” Marcus whispered.

Hudson let out a shaky laugh, leaning into him until his forehead rested against Marcus’s broad chest. “Your fault,” he mumbled. “All ten of them. Big, stubborn, and strong—just like you.”

Marcus chuckled as his hand moved slowly over the vast mound between them. “I can’t deny it,” he said softly, kissing Hudson’s cheek. “And you’ve carried every bit of that stubbornness like a champion.”

Hudson melted into the embrace, closing his eyes as Marcus’s lips trailed lower to leave another kiss along his neck. “You made me this big,” he whispered, almost breathlessly. “And I love you for it. All of you, all of them,” he said, gesturing toward his belly. “You make me desire to be fuller. You make me want you to fill me up over and over,” he said, almost begging.

Marcus smiled, brushing his fingers over the curls on Hudson’s chest before giving a playful tug. “Well,” he said, changing the tone to a more playful one before they lost themselves in each other’s lust. “We’ve got another appointment soon—to check on the other issue.” His eyes moved meaningfully to Hudson’s immense, furred chest. “But after that, we can try again to induce labor, over and over until you pop.”

Hudson groaned, half amused, half exasperated, while Marcus’s laughter rumbled against his neck. “Ugh. Please don’t get started with that. I still can’t believe the doctor has contacted a lactation specialist. I can’t believe I need one!”

Marcus laughed and kissed one of Hudson’s tits. “Nobody needs it more than you do.”

Hudson knew Marcus was right; he had to face another battle—one that was as humbling as it was exhausting. His body was an overworked engine straining against itself. His tits had swollen into a burning fullness that throbbed as milk pressed insistently toward the surface, making his nipples feel like they were about to explode.

He had grown used to the dampness over his tits and his belly as milk trailed down in rivers almost 24/7. But despite the never-ending leaking, his tits were too plump, too full, too about to explode—just like the rest of his body—for him to get the slightest sense of comfort. He was ready to feed an army, and since his ten stubborn babies refused to come out, the milk had nowhere to go as the production reached ridiculous proportions.

So, a while after the doctor left, Marcus heard a knock at the door and went to open it. About a minute later, he returned with the lactation specialist, a woman in her mid-thirties who had visited Hudson a few days before, following the doctor’s advice, and had learned to admire and marvel at the pregnant man’s reality after the initial shock. She was kind and casual about the odd situation, allowing Hudson to feel less like a science experiment and more like just a man with particular needs. There was a difference there.

“Hello, Hudson. Marcus filled me in on what the doctor said. Forty-eight hours sounds enough for these babies to come out, don’t you think?” She said, smiling kindly at Hudson as she put her bag on the nightstand.

“Hello. It sounds too long for me, but 30 days past my due date, two more days doesn’t sound that bad. Still, I feel like I’m about to explode everywhere,” Hudson said, squeezing his immense tits, forcing some jets of milk to shoot from his nipples.

The specialist chuckled.“I see. Well, let’s see how our patient’s holding up. I can tell there’s a lot to handle here.” Her eyes scanned the scene, widening as she processed the sweat-slicked sheets, the heaving rise of Hudson’s chest, and the weary curve of his lips as he managed a tired smile. “You,” she said softly, with a glint of humor that slipped through her professionalism, “are quite the overachiever.”

Hudson groaned, shifting against the pillows and feeling his tits bouncing. “You can say it that way,” he said, chuckling. “I can’t stop it. It’s like my chest has a mind of its own. Everything’s leaking, soaking through the sheets, the pads, everything. I wake up drenched every morning.” He gave a weary half-smile. “It’s a mess.”

The specialist set her clipboard aside and approached the bedside. “I can tell. But let’s take a closer look,” she said, slowly pressing her hands against the swollen weight of his right tit, tracing slow circles over the taut skin. Her touch was methodical and professional, but even so, Hudson winced with each press. The skin was tight and hot, stretched thin over veins that pulsed visibly. “Circulation’s good. Veins look healthy. The skin’s holding beautifully,” she said, nodding in approval as her fingertips brushed over his nipples that glistened under the sheen of milk. “Sensitive?” she asked.

Hudson let out a strangled groan. “Understatement of the year.”

“Alright,” the specialist said calmly, stepping back. “We’ll relieve the pressure. Manual expression’s not enough anymore, and I think you know that.” She turned, retrieving a compact device from her bag. It was a double pump, with two wide cups attached by clear tubing and two large containers. “This’ll help regulate the overflow and keep you comfortable.”

Hudson blinked, turning as red as a tomato. “That looks… like a milking machine?” He said, widening his eyes. “That’s what I needed. Now I’ll be an immobilized cow, with a machine milking me all day long,” he said, laughing.

The specialist laughed. “You make it sound worse than it really is. It’s efficient. Most women use breast pumps to draw out the excess milk,” she said with a light smile. “But this pump is bigger because you’re handling more pressure and producing more milk. One cup for each side, and they’re pretty big because your chest has grown beyond the standard. Believe me, it’s the best for you. We’ll keep it gentle.”

Hudson chuckled weakly. “You make it sound like a spa treatment, but I see it as a farm tool to help the immobilized dairy cow survive.”

“Close enough,” she replied, laughing to ease Hudson’s reluctance. “Let’s give it a try, and you’ll decide if you keep it,” she said, slowly guiding the two cups into place, securing each over his swollen tits. The suction made him flinch at first, then he groaned low and long as the pull began when the specialist turned the pump on. Milk surged into the tubes, gurgling through them before streaming out so strongly that the force made everything shake slightly.

“Ohh—” The sound escaped Hudson involuntarily, halfway between a sigh and a moan. Relief flooded his features as tension drained from his shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so good!” He panted heavily in relief as milk flowed endlessly.

Marcus chuckled from the counter. “Enjoying yourself, huh?”

Hudson shot him a bleary look, flushed and dazed. “Don’t you dare to make fun of me. You did this to me. It’s your fault.”

The specialist laughed and moved away to let Hudson enjoy the milking session. “You can use the pump whenever you feel like it. Once the babies come out and they start crying for milk almost every other minute, they’ll help you drain the milk,” she said, grabbing her clipboard again and looking at Hudson’s immense tits. “I’d recommend you get more containers, or larger ones, because I estimate you’ll fill these pretty quickly.”

“We’ll need a water tank at this point,” Marcus said, and Hudson groaned.

The specialist tried not to laugh and gathered her things. “I think you are doing well now. If you need anything else, call me immediately,” she said, smiling kindly at a too entranced Hudson who could not respond. “I hope you get to meet your babies soon,” she said, and Marcus walked her out, making more light jokes about Hudson’s overproductive tits.

By noon, Hudson had filled several containers to the brim and still asked for Marcus to attach the pumps to his tits again. Hudson would sigh, mumble about feeling like a dairy farm, and reach for the pumps again as if his life depended on it. The absurdity of it faded, and it became another part of his overripe body’s needs.

Hudson lay sprawled across the bed, breathing heavily, with his skin flushed from the sixth milking of the day. His tits throbbed and tingled, still not empty, but not feeling like they’re ready to explode. Milk still beaded faintly at his nipples as Marcus approached quietly. He sat in bed with a look that fell somewhere between hunger and awe, reaching up to cradle the bases of the pumps still attached to Hudson’s nipples.

“Feeling better?” Marcus asked softly, slowly unlatching the first suction cup.

The release made Hudson gasp so rough and broken that his whole frame shivered. His nipple sprang free, wet and swollen, and Hudson arched his back as a small ribbon of milk dribbled down his chest hair. Marcus moved to the second pump, teasingly brushing his fingers over the taut and oversensitive skin, and when he removed it, Hudson moaned even louder. His throat caught on it, and his voice cracked from the intensity. Then, he sagged into the pillows.

Marcus smiled hungrily in love. He set the pumps aside and leaned forward without hesitation, pressing his mouth to Hudson’s overripe chest. He kissed along the heavy mound, nuzzling the fur.

Hudson shivered violently. “Marcus…” he breathed. “I’m so sensitive.”

“I know,” Marcus whispered against his skin. “You’re beautiful like this. Every part of you.” His hand slid over Hudson’s enormous belly, lightly moving his fingers through the dark hair stretched thin over the skin. “I love how big you are, how full of life you’ve gotten.”

He kissed around Hudson’s broad, darkened areola, teasing the soft skin with light brushes of his lips. Hudson groaned even more, closing his eyes in bliss. Marcus grinned, lifting his head only enough to meet Hudson’s pleading stare. Then, he dipped down and took the thick nipple gently between his teeth.

Hudson cried out so loudly that his throat went raw from the force of it, and his body jerked as a jolt of pleasure tore through him. He grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, panting, trembling. “Marcus—Marcus, please—”

Marcus released the nipple with a playful tug and kissed the tender spot he’d bitten. “Do you have any idea,” he murmured, “how much I love what this pregnancy has done to you?”

Hudson let out a breathless laugh that broke into a groan. “Do you?” he responded, almost desperate for an answer and more teasing.

Marcus’s eyes darkened with passion. “I’m madly in love with it. With you. With all of this.” He punctuated it by squeezing Hudson’s massive tit, enough to make him gasp again. “And I can’t wait to see you full again once these ten come out.”

Hudson groaned, and his hips shifted, struggling against the mountain of belly that pinned him. “Marcus, I need—I need something. I’m too full—I’m going to burst—I can’t—”

Marcus kissed him, silencing the spiral. “Do you want to try again?” he whispered against Hudson’s lips. “See if I can make you pop this time?”

Hudson’s answer came instantly, broken and begging. “Yes—yes, please! I need it—Marcus, I need you—please!. I can’t wait any longer. I’m ready. I’m so ready.”

Marcus’ expression shifted into something fierce and tender all at once. He helped Hudson roll onto his side, inch by inch, as if his immense body was precious and breakable, supporting the colossal belly with both hands until it settled heavily into the mattress. Hudson whimpered through the motion, as his breath trembled from the pressure shifts.

Marcus immediately removed his pants, letting his monster cock free. He returned to the bed, with his cock already hard to its 13.5-inch massiveness, positioning himself behind Hudson, and pressing his body forward to brush his shaft against the immensely rounded cheeks. He slowly lifted Hudson’s leg, spreading his cheeks, and pushed his massive cock deep into Hudson in one move that made the whole fertile frame shake as Hudson’s moans, groans, and cries of pleasure made the room tremble.

He leaned close, bruising his lips on Hudson’s ear. “I love you,” he whispered. “And I promise I’m going to keep you full of babies for years.”

Hudson shuddered helplessly at the words, panting heavily and trembling under the overwhelming pleasure as Marcus stretched him so nicely. Then, when the big guy started pounding hard and fast, Hudson’s whole being centered on Marcus—on the cock that had gotten him so pregnant, the lust and passion that drove their days now, and the hope that finally, finally, this might be what pushes him over the edge into labor—only to allow Marcus to get him full of life again and again.

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