Trust the wug

It is Brigette's nervous glances at the boat approaching the shore that decides the matter for you.

"Alright, we trust the wug," you say. "But lead us wrong, and you're dead."

"Yes, yes, understand. Protect Tokonga and special friend." Before you can respond, the wug is bounding into the thickets and you and Brigitte have to rush after him to catch up. The amphibian backtracks into the edge of the salt marsh and follows a muddy ridge for more than an hour. You are exhausted by the sucking slime and night is beginning to catch up with you by the time you arrive at a brackish pond. You look around and realize you have lost the damned wug.

"He's left us, sister," you say.

"Would he do such a thing?" wonders Brigitte.

Your top-heavy sister plucks leaves from between her toes and nearly topples over in the process. Her breasts are incredibly huge and fully engorged with milk. Your own tits seem to have grown another few inches. You resist the urge to fondle them as you continue to search for the wug. You swat away a marsh fly as big as your pinkie finger.

A croak gets your attention and you see the head of your supposed prisoner wriggling out of the muck. He blinks away filth and you see he has cleared the entrance to some sort of underground cave.

"Here," he says. "They not usually come this far into marsh, but if they do, slavers never find this hideout."

The wug holds up a cleverly woven flap of moss and reveals a surprisingly spacious dugout underneath the marsh grass. It's big enough for six or seven people to almost stand upright and the floor is covered with a dried mat of reeds. You and Brigette duck inside and plop down onto your bottoms. To be honest, you are relieved to be off your feat.

"I bring food," says the wug and he disappears back out of the shelter before you can stop him.

"Sister," says Brigette softly. "My... my milk...it hurts there is so much of it."

You lick your lips, unable to tear your eyes away from her swollen chest.

"Mine as well, sister," you breathe, cradling your breasts and letting your thumbs caress your nipples. Warm droplets of milk spill over your fingers. "Maybe we can help each other?"

It only take a moment for Brigette to see the sense in your plan and only a few moments longer for you to arrange yourselves for mutual benefit. Brigette stretches out on her back, her huge breasts flopping like water skins on her chest with the fleshy spigots of her nipples jutting straight up. You lean over her, position your breasts to fall upon her face as you gather her titflesh in both your hands and direct her nipples to your mouth.

It begins as an honest effort to relieve pressure. Brigette begins to softly suck on your nipple, her moans of pleasure muffled beneath the milk-laden weight of your bosom as you return the favor and your mouth is flooded with warm gushes of her sweet cream. The release of your milk is exquisite and the delicious taste of Brigette's is as intoxicating as any daemon's venom. The more you suck, the more excited you become, your body flushed and your pussy growing slick, until you are squirming and rolling your hips with desire as you drink and suckle Brigette's sweet secretions.

"Sisters," croaks the wug, entering the dugout. "I bring food... for..."

He sees you and Brigette locked mouth-to-teets and he freezes and drops the gig of fish he has caught at the entrance of the dugout. You continue to greedily suck and moan and as your belly fills with Brigette's sweet milk, and she drinks your cream, the wug grows obviously aroused staring at you. Finally, you lift your breasts from Brigette's face. She clings to one nipple with suction and you have to pull your drooling tit free of her mouth with a wet pop. She gulps her last swallow of your milk.

"Sister," you moan. "Our friend has brought us something to eat. Don't you think we should reward him?"

She looks over at the wug's swollen cockmeat with its slightly alien shape and a smile spreads across her milk-mad face. She is as overheated and wet as you. Resisting your urges isn't a question.

"Oh, yes," agree Brigette. "Are you thirsty, little fishy man?"

Brigette kneels beside you and you both mash your tits together with your hands, jiggling them slightly from side to side and causing milk to trickle out and drip from your breasts. The wug croaks in a way he never has before and practically leaps at you across the length of the dugout. You and Brigette giggle at the amphibian's enthusiasm. His webbed fingers coax milk from your nipples and he moves his sucking mouth from breast to breast to breast to breast. Back and forth as he greedily slurps on your cream and your sister's cream. You arch your backs and thrusts your gushing tits into his mouth. It feels so good to have that pressure relieved and the wug does a very thorough job of it.

"Sooo good taste," moans the wug. He leans back against the wall of the dugout, his pink cock sticking straight up from his otherwise smooth abdomen. You and Brigette both reach out and take hold of his shaft. You begin to stroke him in cooperation, your fingers slipping over the clear slime that is beginning to leak from the tip of the wug's cock.

"Now how are we going to take care of this?" you wonder to your sister.

She giggles and drags her dangling tits over the tip of his cock, painting a trail of clear liquid over her swaying mounds. There are so many possibilities and you and your sister and the wug are sharing an altered, milk-sweetened state where just about anything would make sense.