Neighbors - Part 12 (Patreon)

Milk Management

The morning after Rory’s birthday, the Wilkerson’s house seemed calm. There were some balloons still tied to chairs, crumbs on the counter, and Chris couldn’t ignore the feeling that something in his body had flipped a switch and wasn’t going back. He knew lactation wouldn’t stop any time soon, but he never imagined what his body was getting into.

He stood at the sink rinsing a glass when he felt pressure in his chest again, righting within his tits—the fun name he had recently given to his pecs. “No, no. Not again,” he said, pressing his hand against his nipples, but it didn’t matter.

A second later, he felt the dampness spreading through the fabric. He groaned and closed his eyes, feeling betrayed by his body. Experiencing it once was one thing, but having leaking milk like a fountain two days in a row was another story.

Renee watched him from across the kitchen. “If it continues, you should probably carry a towel around at this point.”

“I’m not walking around my house holding a towel to my tits,” he said, then looked down at the damp spots spreading across his chest. “Okay, maybe I am.”

She walked over and rested her hand on his belly without thinking. “You know it’s not going to stop, right?” she said. “If anything, it’s going to get worse.”

“It’s already worse,” Chris said, exasperated, grabbing a dish towel and pressing it against his chest. “It’s like—everything sets it off. I was standing here and—”

“Not everything,” Renee said, and a smile appeared on her lips. “Wait until Rory cries.”

As if summoned, they heard a soft whimper coming from the living room.

Chris froze for a second, then looked at her. “Don’t,” he warned.

Renee raised her hands innocently. “I didn’t do anything.”

The whimper turned into a louder cry, and Chris felt an almost electric tightening in his chest followed by stronger streams of milk. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Renee laughed softly and reached for his arm. “Come on. Let’s get him.”

They moved into the living room. Rory was standing in his playpen with a red and scrunched face, and his tiny hands gripping the bars.

When Chris picked him up, the crying softened into a hiccuping whine. “Of course,” he whispered, settling Rory against his shoulder. “Of course it’s me.”

Renee watched how Rory immediately tried to change positions, instinctively turning his head toward Chris’s chest. She didn’t say anything at first, only observed, but an idea had formed in her mind, and a smile had appeared on her lips.

All along, Chris could feel Rory’s cheek pressing against him, so he adjusted his hold, trying to angle the baby away without making it obvious, but Rory squirmed, searching for a nipple to latch onto. The movement made Chris grit his teeth as his tits delivered more milk.

“Okay, no, that’s—” Chris started saying, looking down at Rory, who was calm but still nudging closer. “He’s doing that on purpose.”

“He’s hungry,” Renee said.

“He just ate,” Chris replied, fearing the direction the conversation was taking.

“He usually takes milk after that,” she pointed out. “You know that.”

Chris froze for a second, still trying to keep Rory away from his tits. “Yeah, but that’s—” He gestured at Renee, then at himself. “That’s you. I’m not—I mean, I’m his dad.”

Renee shrugged casually. “You’ll always be his dad. I’m just saying,” she said, slowly, “you’re clearly producing quite the amount. And he clearly doesn’t mind,” she added, as if it were a natural conversation. “You’re already leaking; why not put the milk to good use?

Chris opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again as Rory’s hands were firmly kneading the tight and overfilled chest.

Renee moved closer, resting her head on Chris’s shoulder while her hand rubbed Rory’s back. “I’m not making fun of you,” she said. “I know it’s weird. I know it’s a lot. But it’s also just your body doing what it needs to do.”

Rory started getting impatient, and Chris nodded his eyes briefly, finally nodding. Renee smiled and helped him sit down before he could overthink it or back out.

Chris adjusted Rory in his arms, still unsure if it was a good idea. Rory squirmed a little, grabbing at Chris’s shirt as his mouth searched without even knowing what he was doing.

“Just let him,” Renee said slowly.

Chris swallowed, then nodded, more to himself than to her. He pulled the hem of his shirt up until his tits were exposed, and the second his nipple was in reach, Rory leaned in, opening his mouth wider than Chris expected and latching on without hesitation. The suction seemed so eager that it looked as if Rory had been waiting for it all day.

Chris gasped, and his shoulders tensed even more, reaching with his free hand to grip the couch as a sudden rush of milk flowed into Rory’s mouth. The sensation was strange, not pain, but more intense than expected. His breathing shortened, and even his belly tightened, and his thighs pressed together without thinking.

“Damn—” he cut himself off, looking down like he couldn’t believe what was happening. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Rory let out a content sound, calm and relaxed as his hands squeezed and kneaded Chris’s heavy tit. His cheeks moved quickly, sucking and swallowing the surprisingly abundant fresh milk coming out of his dad’s nipple.

Chris shook his head, still trying to process it. “I thought it was going to be, I don’t know, awkward. Or not work. Or—” Another pull, and even more milk started flowing, leaving Rory almost breathless. “Okay, no, that definitely works.”

Renee smiled then, brushing her fingers through Chris’s hair. “I told you it would help.”

Chris chuckled, still looking at the baby. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he said, but there was no resistance in his voice anymore.  He adjusted his hold a little, letting Rory stay right where he was. “He’s not moving,” he added, almost impressed.

“Why would he?” Renee said. “You’re basically a full buffet right now.”

“Thanks. It sure helps my self-esteem.” Chris snorted. “But don’t get used to it.”

Chris wanted to sound uncomfortable, but he still didn’t stop. When Rory moved a little closer, Chris didn’t pull away. He let it happen, resting one hand over the baby’s back while the other brushed absently over his belly, feeling the twins move within. Renee watched the whole thing, marveling at the scene and how Chris not only accepted what was happening to his body but also settled into it.

Over the next few days, Chris’s body responded to the stimulus by increasing the production. He started keeping spare undershirts in the car, in his bag, or draped over chairs at home. There were mornings when he woke up already damp, afternoons when a random thought or sound triggered the leaking, and evenings when he had to excuse himself mid-conversation because his tits betrayed him.

He complained constantly, but he didn’t resist Renee’s idea anymore. As soon as Rory started crying or reaching for him, he would immediately start moving toward the baby. “You did this,” Chris told Renee, carefully placing Rory at his chest again. “This is your fault.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, not even looking up from folding laundry. “But you’re the one who keeps doing it without hesitation.”

Chris tried to come up with a defense, but even his lawyer mind could not argue. So he tried to play a different card. “He’s going to forget you exist,” he warned.

“Good,” Renee said. “I could use a break.”

Chris didn’t have an answer for such a casual sentence, even though he knew Renee wasn’t serious. Rory was still deeply attached to her, but Chris was the walking buffet, as Renee had called him. The worst part was that he honestly enjoyed his new role.

A few hours after that conversation, Chris walked into the bedroom and found a neatly folded stack on the bed. For a second, he didn’t process what he was looking at. Then he picked one up, turned the bra over in his hands, and his eyes widened.

“Oh, hell no,” he said, louder than intended.

“Language, sweetheart. The babies are listening to your words,” Renee said, casually walking in behind him. “Okay, hear me out.”

“I don’t need to hear you out,” Chris said immediately, dropping the bra back onto the bed as if it might burn him. “I’m not wearing it.”

“It’s not about—” Renee started, trying not to laugh.

“It is exactly about that,” he cut in, gesturing at his tits. “Do you have any idea how that looks even under a shirt?”

“It looks like something that you need to wear,” she said, walking over and picking up one of the bras and sliding a lactation pad into the cup. She held it up. “Look, it—”

Chris frowned. “Absolutely not!”

Renee snorted. “Will you let me talk?” she asked, lifting one of the bras again. “See, the cups keep everything where it’s supposed to be. They support your chest and keep the pads in place. It’ll help you stop the leaking from running down your belly.”

Chris looked at it, then at her, then back again. “I’m not wearing it outside,” he said.

“I didn’t say you had to,” Renee replied.

He sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Fine. At home. That’s it.”

The first time Chris put the bra on, it was awkward right from the start. He held it like it was a complicated tool he didn’t know how to use, turning it around, trying to figure out which way it even went. He hooked one arm through, looking annoyed, then the other, and stopped halfway because the fabric dragged across his sensitive nipples.

He adjusted it again while Renee watched, tugging it down, then reaching behind his back to try to fasten it. That part was worse. His shoulders were tighter, and his balance slightly off because of his belly, and every time he twisted, the band rode pressed too firmly into him.

Renee moved closer without saying a word, getting right behind him. She pulled the band down where it needed to sit, adjusting it under his tits as Chris gasped softly. She fastened it, then smoothed it into place, making small adjustments until everything sat correctly.

For a second, Chris stood there, waiting for it to feel wrong. Instead, the weight of his tits didn’t pull the same way anymore. His chest didn’t feel like it was dragging forward. The constant ache that had been bothering him for days eased slightly. He let out a long breath without meaning to, and his shoulders dropped a little as the tension faded. He shifted his stance, testing it, and noticed how the pressure around his nipples felt better.

“That’s actually—” He stopped, then chuckled. “Damn it.”

Renee smiled, watching how he straightened a little without realizing it. “Yeah. Told you.”

Chris adjusted the straps once more, more out of habit than from discomfort, then ran a hand over his tits. “Okay,” he said, softer this time. “I guess it’s not that bad.”

Renee didn’t say anything else as Chris kept inspecting his chest. She went back to folding laundry, smiling a little as she’d already won.

A few days later, Ryan’s morning started the same way it always did: with food—tons of it. He was halfway through his third plate, and his massive belly pressed firmly against the edge of the table, forcing his thighs to spread and make room for it.

Josh and Jeremy sat across from him, and their faces suddenly turned curious. “Dad?” Jeremy said, tilting his head and staring.

Ryan looked up briefly, with his mouth full.

“Why is your chest crying?” Josh asked before his brother spoke, making Ryan freeze.

Josh leaned forward. “Yeah. You’ve got spots.”

Ryan slowly looked down and saw two small dark patches marking his shirt. He stared at them for a second, then pressed his tits together without thinking about it. The wet spots grew wider, and Jeremy burst out laughing.

Tammy, who had been leaning against the counter, snorted. “Finally,” she said. “I was starting to think those things were only decorative.”

Ryan groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “This can’t be real,” he whispered.

“Oh, it is very real,” Tammy replied. “As real as the six babies you’re carrying.”

“Will the babies drink that?” Jeremy asked, wide-eyed.

Ryan opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. “Eventually,” he said carefully.

Josh started counting with his fingers. “How are they going to take turns?”

Ryan stared at him, then at Tammy, then back at his son. “I don’t know yet.”

The leaking stopped as quickly as it had started, leaving only damp fabric behind. Ryan sighed in relief, thankful that it wasn’t as big of an issue as Chris’s unstoppable leaking.

A while later, Ryan was resting in the bedroom, rubbing his belly because the babies always got particularly active after a large meal—which at this point meant every single meal. Tammy walked, with a smirk on her face, and set a shopping bag beside him.

“What is that?” Ryan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like the expression on your face.”

Tammy rolled her eyes. “Come on, just check it out. Thank me later.”

When Ryan saw a massive bra inside the bag, his face turned red, and they argued about it for a while. He insisted that a man didn’t need to wear bras, even in his condition. But Tammy disarmed him by reminding him over and over again that his chest didn’t count as masculine pecs anymore since they were rounder and bigger than her breasts. Eventually, Ryan admitted she was right, but putting the bra on was worse.

“Lift your arms,” Tammy said.

“I can’t breathe when I do that,” Ryan protested, already winded, but he still did it. The movement made his tits sway a little, and he gritted his teeth. “Yeah, this is a bad idea.”

Tammy moved in with the bra, trying to stretch the band around him. It barely looked big enough even before she tried to get it past his chest. The fabric brushed against his nipples, and he flinched. The band twisted behind his back the first time, bunching up between his shoulder blades. Tammy tugged at it, trying to straighten it while Ryan barely held himself up.

“You’re too tense,” she said, as the fabric slipped again and rode up too high.

“I’m tense because you’re wrestling my tits into something too small,” he replied.

“It’s not my fault that your tits are so big,” she whispered, pulling the band lower this time, and getting it under his chest. She had to lift one side slightly, and Ryan let out a low groan when she did. “I know, they’re sensitive. Deal with it.”

Once the band was finally in place, she reached around and fastened it. The hooks clicked one by one, and then she adjusted the front. The fabric pressed up under his tits, holding them up instead of letting them hang. Ryan froze the second she let go, marveling at the relief. The constant downward pull wasn’t as bad as everything felt supported.

“Okay,” he said slowly, lowering his arms and noticing how his tits still stayed in place. “That’s—” He paused, frowning like he didn’t want to admit it. “That’s actually better.”

“You look fantastic,” Tammy added, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t start,” he said, but a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Later that afternoon, Chris came to Ryan’s place after settling Rory down for a nap. He was still a little damp, a little sore, and a little annoyed at how easily his body kept doing its thing. The walk across the street took longer than it used to, as he had to adjust his shirt every few steps, like that might somehow hide anything.

Ryan was in the garage when Chris walked in. He looked up when Chris came in, already smirking like he’d been expecting him. “About time,” he said. “I thought you got stuck feeding little Rory again.”

Chris rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind him. “I did. That’s the problem.”

Ryan pushed himself up straighter, and Chris noticed the massive bra. The outline was obvious as Ryan’s tits looked lifted and firmer, creating a deep cleavage that was evident even under the fabric. When Ryan turned slightly, Chris saw the line of a strap pressing through the back of the shirt. Chris blinked, then looked again to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

Ryan noticed the look. “What?”

Chris sighed, gesturing between his chest and Ryan’s tits. “You’re wearing one as well.”

Ryan froze for a second, then looked down at himself like he’d somehow forgotten. He looked back up at Chris, and noticed the cups under his t-shirt. “Oh, hell.”

Chris instinctively crossed his arms, which only made it worse. “Yours is worse.”

“Yeah, I’ve got more to work with,” Ryan replied, gesturing toward his visibly bigger tits.

Chris laughed, moving closer. “At least you’re not a dairy cow like me.”

“Oh, I’m thankful for that,” Ryan said, reaching out and brushing his fingers against Chris’s chest. “Are you still full?”

Chris gasped, feeling his nipples pulsating. “Don’t,” he whispered, but didn’t move back as Ryan leaned closer and started squeezing the milk-laden tits. “Don’t start something you won’t be able to stop later,” he said, feeling his cock stirring in his pants.

“Well, Tammy’s at the grocery store with the kids,” Ryan replied, pressing his belly forward against Chris’s smaller one. “We’ve got about an hour before she comes back.”

Chris smiled, reaching forward to caress Ryan’s tits. “That’s enough time to have fun.”

Over the next few days, they tried to find any available moments to be alone, and they eventually found the perfect time in the mornings. Josh and Jeremy were at school, and Tammy was out running errands or at work. Ryan had the house for himself, and it meant that Chris could come over after settling Rory down. Ryan would be waiting already, usually in the bedroom or half-sprawled on the couch while rubbing his belly.

Sometimes, they ate first because Ryan couldn’t function properly without some fuel in his stomach. Chris would sit close, rubbing Ryan’s belly and feeling the constant movement inside. Those moments and the conversation didn’t last long most days. Their interactions turned physical almost immediately, and their clothes came off within a few minutes.

Ryan’s size dictated everything since even getting him onto the bed required patience. Chris had to guide him slowly, and once he was there, Ryan couldn’t move however he wanted. Rolling took effort, and adjusting meant stopping, breathing, and shifting again. Chris learned how to move around it all, how to position himself so Ryan wasn’t straining, and how to use pillows to settle both pregnant bellies as comfortably as possible.

Ryan ended up on his side because there was no other way for him to get in bed without getting breathless. His tits and belly were too big and too heavy, and they pressed down too much no matter how he tried to shift. So, he lay there breathing through it while Chris moved in behind him, taking his time as his pregnancy slowed him down as well.

“Come on, counselor,” Ryan said impatiently, instinctively pushing his hips back as much as he could and reaching back for Chris.

Chris smirked and carefully lined himself up before pushing forward in one move and sliding his 13-inch cock between Ryan’s plump ass cheeks. His belly pressed firmly against Ryan’s lower back, but it only added another fantastic sensation to the whole thing.

“Fuck—Chris!” Ryan cried out, not even trying to hold it back, as his hole stretched around the thick shaft, making his whole body jerk in bliss. He arched his back as much as he could, pushing his ass back on instinct and trying to take more even while he was still adjusting.

Chris groaned low as he buried his cock all the way in. His pregnant belly got in the way, forcing him to angle himself slightly back to get the full depth. The position made his cock hit deeper, and Ryan let out a loud moan as Chris’s cock reached a spot that made his whole body shiver uncontrollably.

“Chris—please—” Ryan tried, but his voice broke into a moan before he could finish.

Chris started thrusting right away, snapping his hips forward and pushing the whole cock back into Ryan with such force that he couldn’t stay quiet. The angle wasn’t perfect, but it worked, and every time Chris adjusted a little, it hit deeper and harder. Ryan reacted to every single thrust with moans and groans. His belly bounced with the motion, and the babies inside rolled and kicked as if feeling every movement. It made him gasp and cry out all over again, and his body was overwhelmed from both sides at once.

“Fuck, they’re moving so much,” Ryan said breathlessly, losing it completely.

His tits jostled hard with every thrust, swinging with the force of Chris’s movements and brushing against his face when he shifted too much, making him groan in frustration and pleasure at the same time. His cock throbbed under his belly, twitching with every movement even though neither of them could reach it. That only made everything much more intense in the best way as the pressure built without any relief.

Chris gripped him tighter, digging his fingers into Ryan’s hip as he kept going, harder and faster where he could manage. His balls slapped against Ryan’s ass with each thrust, and the sound mixed with Ryan’s rough breathing and broken moans. He adjusted again, leaning back just enough to get the angle right despite his belly, and when he hit deep like that, Ryan cried out, and his whole body tightened as his back arched again.

“Fuck—right there, don’t change it,” Ryan said, reaching back to pull Chris closer.

Chris kept hitting that same spot at full force and full speed, making Ryan’s whole body shake. Every thrust pushed Ryan forward slightly, then pulled him back. His belly bounced, his tits jostled, and his breath was completely out of control. He couldn’t even form complex words anymore, only broken sounds and half-finished thoughts.

“Don’t stop,” Ryan said, barely conscious. “Don’t—don’t you dare stop.”

Chris smirked and pounded harder, feeling his cock leaking precum deep into Ryan’s guts. However, another sensation took over his upper body, something he recognized immediately. His tits started feeling tight, and his nipples pulsated in rhythm with the thrusts. He knew what it meant, but he was not going to stop—not with how Ryan was reacting.

“Fuck—again?” Chris whispered, feeling the milk bursting out of his nipples, dripping down his chest, and streaking over Ryan’s back as they kept going.

“What?” Ryan asked breathlessly, trying to look back, but the pounding was too intense.

“I’m leaking,” Chris groaned, but his hips didn’t slow.

Ryan moaned louder, enjoying Chris’s cock and even the mess they were making. “Keep going,” he said, pushing back harder despite how little range he had. “Don’t stop.”

Chris leaned in, gripping Ryan’s hips tighter and thrusting harder until the whole bed shook. They were too far gone to keep it controlled anymore.

When Chris climaxed, his whole body tensed, and his hips pushed forward to bury the whole cock into Ryan’s hole. Chris’s cock throbbed hard inside Ryan as he started dumping a ridiculous amount of cum into him. It felt like a warm tsunami coating every space inside, reaching deeper and deeper as if it had nowhere else to go.

Ryan cried out, louder this time, and his ass tightened around Chris’s cock without him even thinking. “Fuck—Chris—” he gasped, pressing his hands harder into his belly.

Chris groaned low, not pulling out, only staying fully inside while the cum flow kept going. His twin-filled belly pressed firm against Ryan’s lower back, pinning him there, holding him in place while his hips twitched with every burst of cum. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time as his body pumped more cum out even when it should’ve been done.

Ryan swore under his breath as the cum filled his guts to the point that his already massive belly seemed to pull tighter. “Fuck—there’s so much,” he said, overwhelmed by the pressure as his ass clenched around Chris’s cock again, like he didn’t want to lose any of it. Instead, he leaned back harder into Chris, trying to keep him there.

Chris leaned forward as best as he could, with his cock still shooting—but more weakly, pressing his belly to Ryan’s back, and reaching forward to caress the massive pregnant belly where six of their sons were moving restlessly.

“Fuck,” Ryan said weakly after a second, catching his breath. “You’re not normal.”

Chris snorted. “You knew that already.”

Even after that, their moments together rarely ended there. Some days, Ryan pushed back some more and demanded a second round. Other days, he insisted on taking control for as long as he could manage, flipping things around to fuck Chris’s tight ass for a while. But most days it came back to Chris behind Ryan, pounding hard until Ryan couldn’t think straight.

...

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PS: Thanks to my dear friend woodywood101 for helping me with the plot for this story and provide the pics for it. Please, go check out his Patreon content. You'll love it!