LAN Party (complete)

So much larger, so much more milk, so much more vigor and life.

Janet's breasts ejected a trail from raw sexual tension alone; even as, in her mind, she doubted her ability to do what needed to be done.

Janet liked Odette. The blonde was her best friend―sometimes, in her dreams and fantasies, more. The last thing she wanted was to prove herself useless in the realm of breastfeeding. To make up for her ineptitude, she'd discarded her top the moment she felt the pang of insecurity. The act was about zeal―she might be inexperienced, but she'd still do her best. Ganbarimasu! Odette-chan no tame!

Still, effort didn't always equal success, and Janet's self-doubt concluded that she was unfit for the job set before her. What if hoping to be a good milker and trying her best to be one weren't enough? She'd just happened into the world of growing her boobs with breast milk―complete accident. What if she didn't belong?

A firm hand captured her thigh and she turned to the eldest of the three, who wore luscious chestnut hair and a winning smile. "Loose throat. Take it slow. And, for the love of all that is safe, remember to breathe! There's going to be a lot once you start so don't panic. Just breathe, swallow, rest if necessary, repeat. Okay?" Pari communicated clear and concise advice. "I'm right here if you need me. And Odette, despite her levels of production, is always an easy one to milk."

"Do your best, Janet!" Odette's eyes shone with heart-shaped sincerity. "You'll do great!"

The curvaceous asian honey nodded, fueled by the support of her friends. A mere hand length away was a nipple so wide and long it looked to have its own heartbeat. At the same time, from a winning perspective, it was the perfect size for latching and holding on tight. For the first time, she saw that shimmering positivity beyond the shade of apprehension.

"I'll do my best!" Janet pumped her fists, psyching herself up.

Pari approved with a few pats.

Never on to start without the end in mind, Pari quickly she revisited her thoughts. She and Janet―who was a late and reluctant addition but welcome given the circumstances―only needed ride out Odette's crazy spike in production. The cause seemed to be stress, so once the pixie with pale blond hair was given adequate time to rest and relax, the flow ought to slow. Slow was good. Slow was manageable. No need to explain anything to anyone if Odette returned to her LAN party with the same cup size as when she left.

That wouldn't address the issues of Pari and Janet's changing bodies, though.

Odette could take five minutes to calm down. It could just take an orgasm, one that would drain her and put her to sleep. Or, they could be sucking gallons and gallons for hours on end. If she and Janet consumed milk for hours, they would be changed women; unmistakably altered by milk inflation. They would need explanations. Immaculate conception probably wouldn't fly.

Pari swallowed hard. Her arousal didn't seem to care much that she was already immensely distended with a belly full of milk. Thinking about drinking breast milk for hours till she boasted a blimpish belly that warranted explanation and an ass to match just turned her on. This, Pari thought, was why she never let her mouth, stomach, or sex drive make important decisions. She'd end up as big as the garage with little to no progress to show.

Drink, soothe, return to party. Timing was the unknown variable. Those were the guidelines.

Pari did one more survey of the tits she would be trying to best in a milky contest. The lightning blue veins rising and sinking under hot pink skin, the darkened and raised areola, and the quaking nipple before her meant there was little more to endure, right?

Wrong for sure. She could only hope that permanent change would be limited; things like her caramel tummy, which she quite liked, developing stretch marks, or retaining a size after all the milk was gone that was larger than her wardrobe, thus forcing her to spend time shopping for herself. If those happened they might take away from the drinking just a little. It'd still be worth it, just with some added irk.

Of all the irks, being too big for her current outfits forever hexed Pari the most. Few things were as jejune, to Pari, as clothes shopping. New clothes didn't move right, and it was arduous finding simple, flowy options. Most were skirts and dresses―too much 'flow'. And the shorts she'd fallen for weren't made much larger than forty inches at the hip.

She buried the stress of it for Odette, though. She'd find some outfit to wear when she wasn't nose-to-nip with a meteoric mammary.

"Down the hatch," Pari asserted.

The other two girls readied themselves.

Then, Pari took the lead. She opened wide, took a smooth draw of air from around Odette's raised, pink button and waited for the pliable flesh to fill her mouth. It melted on contact. Skin had never been so flavorful yet so light. If such magic could be manufactured it would sell out shops, but nothing could ever come close to the rare pleasures of Odette's sugary chest. Droplets that had slowed from the temporary break in suction built up a slow and heavy force against the tan woman's cheek. Once her lips were in place, she allowed herself a deep inhale that arched the beams of milk at the back of her throat. The taste was so nostalgic; the kind of flavor and texture that is so natural to one's mouth that the act swallowing becomes a distant afterthought.

Before Pari could even regulate it, a contented sigh rolled out of her and she fell against Odette's still-expanding breast.

Janet, fearing failure, eager to please, thought it best to just do what Pari instructed. She couldn't make it look as smooth or as. . . erotic. Yes, when she beheld the uniqueness of the love Pari and Odette shared, exchanging honey nectar from the blonde's rich bosom, following the thick clump of yummy brew as it bulged in Pari's throat, it made Janet question if she had become some third wheel. Still, if nothing else, she was a woman motivated by duty. Odette had selected her to be of service. That was plenty enough reason to give sucking a try.

When she neared, Odette's left teat lunged at her. The growth spurt was perfectly timed. The phallic nipple slapped her on the forehead then bent downward toward her cheek. A grand dollop of heavy cream felt like molasses on her left shoulder and oozed like lotion over her chest. 'Are you sure you want to do this?' is what it seemed to mean.

Janet fortified herself, sat up on her knees, and nuzzled herself till she felt the milk-spurting point just beside her mouth. Though it nearly filled her up on its own, Janet opened and closed her maw over the sugary funnel and mewled adorably at the flavor and sheer size of it. As a reward for not being psyched out in the face of tits of such a grand size, she received dollop the size of her fist as her very first offering of milk. And, understandably, she nearly choked on the hot clump. It pushed her throat out to the point of pain and took longer to swallow than she would have imagined. When her breath was allowed to return, she gasped and brought her fingers to her neck. She still felt the lump going down! Tasted it, too. And surely the scent, which abounded in the air, would also be on her breath when all was said and done.

"Wait, th-that was. . ." Janet blinked, and took every corner of the experience into consideration. "Delicious!"

Whatever fear there had been disappeared. She extended her lithe neck and committed herself to her zest once again, sucking needfully on the blonde's lovely pap for a more consistent flow. As if psychic, she was gifted what she asked for and made noisy slurps in pleasant surprise when cream rivered its way down her throat and piled up in her tummy.

Meanwhile, the centerpiece of this fervid milking was busy deciding which of two dominating forces to align with.

Between Pari's practiced mouth and Janet's emblazoned suckling, her breasts had never known such a sense of peace. It all but blanketed her; felt just like being tucked into bed at night. The cadence of their swallows was offset just right and when one would flick her tongue the other would bite down and stretch her straining nipple. Her massive jugs had never known such a love. She could sleep to such pleasure easily. In fact, all she wanted to do was lay back and be serviced. The contrary was usually the case―Odette couldn't stand stillness. But the size of her chest seemed idealistic to be serviced by two gorgeous, industrious women. She graciously imparted parcel after parcel of her bodily essence to them and felt the release of stress as each load of her milk left to feed her friends.

And yet there could always be more. Still, she could be larger. The tingle in her titty flesh made her toes want to curl and focusing on the blissful sensation would make her hotter and hotter. Sure, it was relaxing, but she had two of the hottest girls she knew sucking her enormous tits. The sounds of swallows and slurps were always followed by grunts of need and sighs of desire. They wanted more of her. And she could stand to be much, much bigger.

Her production churned her breasts. It was too late to wrangle in the spike from letting her mind drift toward the heat of the sun. Waiting for it to pass was all she could do. And afterward, she would need to let herself meditate on the steady buzz she felt while her big, taut titties were milked for all their liquid treasure.

"S-sorry, I-I―. . ." Odette was choked by a groan that slithered up from her core, a product of her inner heat and greed for more. "You're both so good―I feel so good. Mmph! It's so much!"

Pari heard distinct bubbling sounds. Her mouth was awash before she could prepare. Throat bulging wildly, white streaks leaking from the corners of her lips, she dutifully became strength when Odette's will faltered. The swell in production had her growing even more. Even as Pari sucked and swallowed countless times, Odette's chest sank lower toward the ground, heavier in her hands. Her only option was to keep drinking and drinking.

It would have been easy had her body not been trying to devour her pants. She swore in her mind. They were too tight. Like the sharpest knife taken to a balloon, a rough tearing sound tore through the garage. She wished she could have known how messy the rip would be. Had she, Pari might've removed her shorts all together to avoid the inadvertent hotness of a woman being so ridiculously well-endowed that her clothes fail and her body oozes forth from the newly-created openings.

Strange as the phenomena was, Pari had noted this strange reaction to Odette's milk before. Sure, she'd gained weight in her glutes from several weeks of extended caloric uptake, but, on one rare occasion, the growth had been rapid and inexplicable. The results had never been duplicated―not till this moment. And while she still hadn't a clue what special conditions incited her booty's sudden growth, she felt all the signs of her expansion. With each gulp of thick ambrosia, her caramel-toned flesh continued to balloon.

Body wide heat, tingling sensation in the affected area, increased sensitivity in the affected area, increased heart rate.

It was all so logical in her mind even as her booty continued to breach the tear at the seat of her shorts. She was growing. Odette was growing. They were sharing in a mutual expansion. And, as small of her as it was, she liked that she was getting bigger than Janet―more bootylicious than the girl who had transfixed Odette in the kitchen earlier on. She allowed herself a few seconds to savor it; to feel like she was the only one sucking, to be the only one entrusted to Odette's sweetness. Together, they bloated to newfound horizons of size.

Then, Pari's tan tummy bumped the freezer front. Urgency eclipsed fantasy. Pari's abdomen was just as distended as her buttocks and was expanding at an even faster rate. Cheeks puffed full of another mouthful, disappeared with a swallow, then reappeared at her midsection with startling swiftness. At least the pregnant look wasn't sloppy. She was taut like a big, tawny marble and her top rolled up to expose her grand lower swell.

But was that really the standard she was using for success? Sure her huge, soft booty was humongous―a source of immeasurable pride. And her gut had glutted with milk to the point of double pregnancy. But the point was to stop Odette before any of these events took place.

Pari's chocolate eyes blinked open. When she found Janet greedily huffing huge pockets of hot, thick goo she knew everyone involved had deviated from the plan. They were on a downward spiral. Given ten more minutes, Janet would have a belly like Pari's―an overdue-with-triplets tummy, which was impossible to hide.

What to do. What was the right move? Actually, the doctor knew full well what needed doing. She just wished she could remain latched for longer. And the longer she suckled and watched Janet race for more creamy resources, the harder it became for her to throw the emergency kill switch on the whole situation.

In the end, she did so anyway. It didn't stop the irrational fear of Janet getting any curvier, but it did turn progress in a new direction.

"Pppphah!" the Indian woman gasped. She tried skittering away but found it awkward in her new body. Odette's hanging breast lobbed shot after steamy shot to the point of coating her from chin to floor in nutritious gel.

As messy as it was, receiving a coating was completely unavoidable. Her clothing bore the brunt of it while certain areas―ones where there were openings like the lip of her shirt and the front of her shorts―allowed for viscous nectar to sandwich itself between garment and skin, thoroughly soaking her in the process.

After struggling to find footing on the wet, concrete floor, she shuffled and strafed till she was no longer in the line of fire. Then, with greater effort, she rose to her feet. Louder than both Janet lapping up big gulps of milk and Odette whimpering from being so well serviced, Paris shorts popped and shredded even further. She expressed her discontent and reached around, feeling the hole. All that seemed to remain were a few strands running horizontal across a widening vertical rip.

"Oh, come on!" she mulled over her future possibilities for a moment. There was nothing upstairs that could fit her―not even a chance. At her size? She doubted there would be anything for miles that could restrain her cheeks. And as growth continued, the picture only grew bleeker. The only positive of the whole situation was the feel of her rump so tight against the thinning material. Her thighs plumped to fill and test the integrity of the leg holes. Her hips winged out on both sides of her body, resulting in a daisy duke effect.

Standing, there wasn't much she could see at her angle. If she craned her head, her ass was much easier to notice, sure. But the best cues for her increase in size were the sounds of popping threads―snapping like rubber bands, rending as easy as paper―and the imminent feel of an unstoppable booty.

For the second time in her life, she felt all of what Odette must have felt: a sense that she might never stop growing without some extreme intervention.

It was that sympathy that drove her to action. "Janet, keep, um, doing what you're doing," Pari instructed.

The Japanese girl scarcely acknowledged the command, which was fine as it didn't look like she'd even think about changing pace. Good, Pari thought, vexing but good.

She made haste to specific corners and drawers which caused her thighs to grind together and her cheeks to flop uncomfortably. Her shorts, however compromised, did help keep her together till she could return with a number of vats and tubs.

There had been a point in their relationship when Pari would take larger samples of Odette's milk. It seemed so long ago. Buckets had all been stacked and put away neatly. Wash tubs went away with them. Thankfully, many of them were stored in areas of the garage. Even more impressive was Pari's capacity to remember their locations given she was still tasting Odette's sweetness on her lips and her ass flesh was starting to crawl up and bulge over the lip of her bottoms.

When she returned, the spike in production had caused Odette to increase yet again in size. It was time to be a scientist about this, Pari told herself. When she couldn't stop lusting over Odette's crazy sexy proportions, though, she found herself repeating the phrase in her head, trying to remain objective and removed as best she could.

Be a scientist. Be a scientist. A scientist, Pari.

But the image was too overwhelming.

The blonde nymph fought for sobriety amidst a torrent of blended emotions. All the while, her voluptuous partner savored and sucked below, unintentionally addicting herself to their mutual satisfaction. Pari could honestly understand why it felt so wrong to want to end such a beautiful sight. And just moments ago, she'd been an active participant.

Still, Odette's tits were getting too big too fast. It was a mystery how she hadn't been dragged off the freezer by the weight of them, crushing Janet underneath. Their entire center of gravity was shifted too far forward. It shouldn't have been able to work―half her body weight dangling before her in the form of paper-white tit flesh. Janet's face had to have been the counterbalance; the only way the physics of it worked out. Indeed, much of the Japanese girl's facial features were buried under a heap of velvety mass for several long seconds at a time. Comparatively, it was like watching a girl trying to lower a beanbag from a high shelf with just her face.

And damned if Janet wasn't having the time of her life.

That was plenty enough reason for Pari to sidle up beside Odette and advocate for a conclusion. If Pari couldn't fully enjoy the pleasures of breastfeeding from her favorite woman in the world, then she didn't want others to. She'd shared plenty of Odette's yummy charms already, hadn't she?

"Alright sweety," Pari positioned a washbin where she'd previously been seated. "I think this has gone far beyond what we can do with our mouths. I'm going to just milk you by hand, okay?"

Odette was listless; in and out of the present moment. One such moment of attentiveness came during the admission that her breasts were simply too large and productive to be sucked dry. A grin underneath slitted eyes communicated apology, but also pride. "But you've drank all of me at this size before, haven't you? C'mon, you aren't even close to being full yet."

Did Odette know how naughty she was being? How much her flirtatious teasing pulled at Pari's heart? She couldn't have―not intellectually. Her hormones were raging, their constant milking had created a powerful bond between them, and all she seemed to understand was whatever it took to fill the vacant space in front of her milk geyser.

It was far closer to working than Pari could admit. "Get down. It's easier when I can get behind you." Pari had to trudge forward. Her best friend nodded but continued making bedroom eyes. It was a constant and dangerous chest. If at any moment Pari's will faltered, she knew she could take everything Odette offered. All the milk she could drink was such a temptation.

And the blonde was correct: Pari had drank that much milk before. Given several hours and some privacy, she would have left the milk-inflated pixie lacking in both cream and kittenish words. The bond worked both ways, Pari reminded herself. The focus on lactation in the bustier parter mirrored an itch deep in the eldest woman's nature that felt it was undeniably the right thing to connect mouth to spigot and glut herself till ungodly volumes of heavy brew were transferred from Odette's twins to Pari's tight belly and bursting booty.