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Custard had originally come up to visit his friend, Bacchus, for the weekend. That was three months (and a few hundred pounds) ago.
Since then, he’s spent most days lazing around and grazing from Bach’s bounty of snacks. On this particular afternoon, he was sprawled out on Bach’s massive bed, playing his Switch and munching on Oreos while he waited for his buddy to get home. These days, he only wore underwear, as nothing else he had brought for the “weekend” fit him anymore. He cycled between his only three pairs of boxers — which had, over his weight gain, come to wear like trunks, then briefs, then practically jockstraps. He could have easily ordered more clothes online, but he was comfortable enough around Bach to let his furry, chestnut-brown belly hang out.
Just as he killed off the package of Oreos, Custard heard the front door open and the sound of Bacchus’ heavy footsteps.
“Hey Bach! How was work,” Custard greeted with a big smile when he entered the room.
The hog sighed, his face flushed and a bit drained. “Well, uh, urm…” he sputtered as he took off the jacket of his business suit. His heaping tits and belly bulged in his off-white button down. Instantly, Custard noticed two faint spots of wetness where his hardened nipples strained against the fabric.
“Custard, I, uh— Fuck, I just gotta ask…” Bacchus unbuttoned the next layer, leaving him in a skin-tight, translucent undershirt with even larger and darker wet spots.
“I’ve been pent up all fucking day, and they haven’t stopped leaking,” Bacchus pleaded, gesturing to his tits, “Please, I really need you to empty them.”
Custard was barely able to downgrade his moan to a breathy exhale. He then muttered out a cluster of unintelligible horny noises while nodding profusely.
Bacchus smiled and sprung into action, taking off his shirt and pants. Custard could tell from afar how full his tits were, his damp nipples shining in the late-afternoon sunlight. Custard shimmed over to make room as Bacchus crawled into bed, his gut hanging low and swinging with the movement. He then laid down next to Custard and positioned his nipple just before his lips.
“Thanks, bud,” he pressed his tit into Custard’s mouth, which opened eagerly to invite the nipple in.
“Mhphmm—” Custard moaned as he began to suckle. Warm, sweet hog milk flooded into his mouth, dripping from the corners of his mouth and forcing him to gulp it down quickly. Bacchus’ milk was delicious, as rich as heavy cream and as sweet as a milkshake. Bacchus began involuntarily oinking, getting off to the pleasure of Custard’s suckling combined with the easing of the pressure of his beleaguered tits.
Custard caught up with the milk’s heavy flow and soon felt its gradual, fattening effects. His stomach puffed up with new centimeters of fat; his already-enveloped arms and thighs grew plusher; and his throbbing dick dug itself deeper into the pit of his fat-pad. This all made the bear mind-meltingly horny. He struggled to get his tight underwear past his fupa, giving a few useless tries to access it before Bacchus intervened.
“Here, let me help you out there, pet,” he pulled down the waistband. Custard had to stretch to wrap his paw around his nub, getting only the barest grip. Each pathetic jerk sent wild jiggles across his body.
“Awh, is it getting hard to reach?” Bacchus teased, “I think we need to get you a Magic Wand soon.” With one porky hand, he gently pet Custard behind his round ears; with the other, he alternated between fondling his own belly and his friend’s.
Custard finished draining the first tit, granting Bacchus some relief, though the other was still teeming with liquid. The hog hastily arched himself over his friend’s spread-out stomach. He landed on the mattress with a heavy plop and brought his leaking nipple into his friend’s mouth.
With his dominant hand now on the opposite side of Custard, Bacchus began to stroke himself off. He wrapped his other arm around Custard’s head and shoved him into his blubberous tit. Custard whined, his nostrils almost entirely smothered by fat. He could only inhale when the jiggling of Bacchus’ tit gave an opening.
At this point, the bear had grown noticeably fatter. He felt new, soft heaviness everywhere throughout his body. Most pressing was how it affected Custard’s already laborious masturbation. There was suddenly more belly in the way, and Custard physically felt his nub sink deeper and deeper into his fat-pad, making it increasingly difficult to stroke. Eventually, the straining of his arm became too much. He gave up, whimpering, consigning himself to groping his underbelly and fingering the upper rim of his fat-pad for relief.
Just as Custard abandoned the prospect of jerking himself off, small white drops began to spill out of his own tits. The combination of the instant weight gain, Bacchus’ milk, and Custard’s intensely stimulated libido had accelerated the bear’s production of milk. Noticing his friend’s leaking tits, Bacchus took on a devilish smirk. He took his hand from Custard's head to his nipple, pinching it gently until milk gushed forth.
Custard moaned in embarrassment and lust, mouth still full with Bacchus’ incredibly calorific milk. His lust only provoked him to suck harder, gnawing his teeth into Bach's sensitive nipples. Bach reciprocated by continuing to play with his nipples, producing a veritable stream which meandered down his still-growing side tit.
It all became too much for Bacchus. Just as the flow from his tit weakened into a trickle, the hog lost himself in his stroking — snorting, buckling, and jiggling himself into an orgasm long before he expected. Thick, viscous ropes shot onto his stomach, with stray drops landing onto Custard’s fur.
After several long moments of recovery, Bacchus looked upon Custard, who was about thirty pounds heavier from before they started.
“You know,” Bacchus ribbed, “if you keep growing’ at this rate, I’ll need to get you a bigger bed.”
Custard bit his lips. Still leaking precum and milk, he begged with his eyes for Bacchus to get him off.
“Don’t worry, bud,” the hog reassured, “I actually got you a few dozen donuts on my way home. It’ll give you something to snack on while we get you sorted.”