Since they started dating, Stu and Nat were very open about wanting kids, and with Nat’s recent promotion and Stu electing to work remote, the stars finally aligned for them to fulfill their dreams of bringing in another soul into the world to raise with all the love they could give. The time between getting her pregnant and the first months of watching her belly grow was bliss, but a problem emerged: Nat she was well past the point of her pregnancy where she should have started lactating, but she was having troubles producing. She was eating right, hydrating, trying the vitamins her birthing class recommended, but nary a drop. Neither of them wanted their future child to only be given formula, but luckily with Nat’s new promotion allowed another option. Their insurance was willing to cover a partial swap for them to receive a pair of breasts able to lactate, but due to safety concerns, the Swap Clinic refused to perform any swaps on a pregnant person. So with no other options, it was Stu’s time to step up. Having heavy, stretch mark-ladden breasts swinging from his chest wouldn’t have been his first suggestion, but anything for his wife and future child. 
	
The whole process at the Clinic comprised of simply going in one of their machines for a few minutes and walking right out; most of Stu’s visit was waiting around in the recovery room to be screened and discharged, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts and two pendulous orbs he would temporarily call his. Stu gently hefted a boob in each hand, testing the weight. They were certainly more… ample than he was expecting. Heavy, too. He was ensured they would barely be noticeable, given his wide, manly torso, but they stuck so far out it took effort not to bump them with his arms. 'You’re doing this for Nat,' Stu tried to soothe himself, to look on the bright side. He was grateful that he got to keep most of himself- markedly his “Little Stu”- but he could already hear the razzing from his mates, poking fun at being a guy that would have to wear a… As if on cue, one of the technicians entered through the door, carrying in both her hands a sizable mint-green bra. Stu’s back was already beginning to ache just from sitting in the waiting room, so he brusquely accepted it, though he could feel the toll it would have on his masculine pride the moment he put it on. He didn’t want to think about it, but curiosity got the better of him and peeked at the tab. Stu let out a dry chuckle from the absurdity of it all: until the baby was born and eventually weened off, he would have engorged, lactating breasts over double the size of his wife’s…
	
Stu had just wrapped up yet another session on the breast pump, the little machine tenaciously chugging along at the herculean task of contending with his colossal mammaries for the better part of an hour. The Swap Clinic sure knew how to pick ’em, alright; whomever’s breasts he was borrowing were running like a faucet with no way to stop the tap. Both the fridge and freezer were filled to the brim with the fruits of his labor. There was one thing for certain: when the baby arrived, they would sup like the gods of old. For now, though, Stu was in a pickle: he still had more to give, and couldn’t risk burning out the motor of a third breast pump from working it too hard. He checked his phone. Damn. It was still hours until his wife was due back home. Nat was out with her mom on an impromptu trip for baby clothes while Stu worked on the finishing touches of the nursery. Being more of an ass guy was starting to bite Stu in the butt as he clumsily tweaked at his nipples in an attempt to relieve the pressure himself. He was getting an impressive volume out, but it was a drop in the bucket for what he needed to express for the painful sensation of fullness to subside, and he needed a pair of hands better-trained on his tits yesterday.