Author's Note

Prompt - https://www.derpibooru.org/186400

Milky Way's pregnancy has sent her signature assets into overdrive, and her tummy's too big for her to reach them herself.

Milky Way's Clammy Day

"Phew. Blimey, what a fuss," Milky Way sighed, wiping her brow as she closed her front door on a bright summer morning and the day's delivery round. For a minute she simply rested inside the doorway, hooves set wide and taking deep slow breaths. As sweat rolled down her face, plastered her mane to her neck and stained her white uniform a patchy beige, she had to admit to herself that the day's milk round was starting to get a little difficult.

Milky's rest was short-lived; a low gurgle from deep inside her rounded middle reminded her that the day's duties were far from over. Her customers might have been satisfied, but a certain little someone was putting a big, urgent order for crumpets and cheese. At least it's a nice, normal Trottingham craving this time, she thought with a little smile, shrugging her saddleracks onto the floor and hanging up her hat on the way to the kitchen. Ponies didn't usually eat crumpets six at a time, but at this point Milky was satisfied with every little piece of normalcy she could get.

Reaching the food her foal demanded took longer than she would have liked. Eight months in, her pregnant belly was starting to outgrow her generously spacious uniform; the curtain-like sides more riding her middle than covering it, clinging to the broadly rounded surface thanks to the sweat she'd worked up. That, at least, was manageable - she wasn't carrying much bigger than the average mare, at least in terms of belly size. Her mammaries, though - embarassingly large at the best of times, they'd taken Milky's impending motherhood as an excuse to upsize and work overtime. The soccerball-sized orbs jostled and bounced weightily as she made her way to the kitchen, fighting her inner thighs and the lower face of her belly for space at all times. Modesty had become impossible - the best Milky had managed on that front was a custom-fitted, reinforced bra. It hadn't been cheap, but even its lavish(ly expensive) capacity for crotchboob had started to struggle as the weeks wore by. Creamy yellow flesh spilled defiantly out of the cups; two thick rose-coloured teats proudly dented the thick fabric. Milky wanted to believe that the dampness she felt back there was just more sweat, but deep down she realised it was a vain hope.

The milkmare's raid on the kitchen was conducted quickly and without much patience or grace. Crumpets went straight into the toaster and then straight into her mouth, just so that the toaster could be filled up again, the hungry mare not even bothering to butter her food or wait for it to cool. Cleaning could come later: mornings had begun to conform to a strict routine. Breakfast first, then the milk round, then second breakfast, then a shower, then an hour with the milker, and then finally free time. Milky sighed softly, letting herself lean back and patting her belly gently as her hunger receded.

Her teats throbbed. Not painfully, but with an inescapable sensation of ever-increasing fullness. It was enough to deny her the chance to rest a second time and spur her into hurrying onwards with her routine. Milky took a glance over her shoulder on the way to the bathroom, scrunching her muzzle and blushing at the realisation that her bust was visible even from that angle, bobbing and jiggling as she waddled up the stairs.

Unbuttoning her uniform, Milky stole a proper look at herself in the wide bathroom mirror as she passed by, letting out a mutter of exasperation at the sight. "Slow down, you two. Any bigger and I'm going to need wheels." She reached around awkwardly to unclasp the crotchbra from just above her dock, and couldn't help but shiver a little as her great, sensitive orbs finally hung free. If anything, she noted with a little pout, that just made them look even bigger. It brought back awkward memories of her foalhood - of wondering when the not-so-little buds of thick, pliable flesh between her legs would finally stop growing. Or if they ever would.

Milky stepped into the shower, shaking such thoughts from her mind. She was who she was; and being so 'uniquely gifted' by her cutie mark wasn't all bad. She switched on the warm water and smiled broadly as it cascaded down over her, washing away the sweat from the morning's rounds and dragging her regal-blue mane down around her neck. She sat down gingerly on her haunches and then lay back completely, letting the gently-steaming spray wash down over her swollen bump and bust, then down into the deep, dark crevices between. The water felt wonderful on her stretched and sensitive skin, and she let her mind drift a little. As if with minds of their own, her hooves drifted as well. First to the surface of her womb, with gentle rubs and little probing touches. The little one responded lazily, apparently satisfied with its meal. Then her touch sank lower, playing gently over the tender, lightly freckled masses of the tits dominating her lap. Even a small prod was enough to send a jolt of sensation buzzing up her spine, making her hind hooves curl and her lips twitch. Another touch, just a little experimental one, drew out a low groan and a wide swish of her soaked tail.

Really? Milky thought, In the shower? She dragged the frog of her hoof slowly down the side of her left boob and bit her lip, battling a moan and a giddy smile. Why not in the shower? It's not like you can't afford to waste any. Embarassed or not, she couldn't argue with her own logic - before the foal she'd been milking herself once every day or two. That had been enough to keep up with demand. But in recent months the milkings had become daily. Then twice daily. She had even considered adding a third milking session to her schedule, just to ensure that she could get a full night's sleep without waking up to damp sheets. A little milk down the drain wouldn't be missed.

Milky purred under her breath, hooves dragging themselves in search of her fat, bloated teats... and couldn't find them. She let out a low whine, opening her eyes with a little sound of frustration - with her bump in the way, she couldn't quite reach. She pawed at her boobs, bending forwards and stretching her forelegs. A brush with one of her plump, rosy aureolae drew another gasp and a wiggle of her hinds, but try as she might she couldn't quite get to the most sensitive spots; those plump, dripping peaks that stiffened and swelled in readiness even now. "Mmmf-, oh, now you're just taking the piss..." she moaned, squeezing her bulbous mare-udders together between her hooves. Twin spurts of rich, thick milk spattered against the shower wall, but it was just a drop from an ocean, not the steady release of pressure that she craved. Milky sweated and squirmed, soaked to the skin and starving for sensations that were just out of reach.

And then the doorbell rang.