2020- The pandemic was now in its sixth month and the world was locked down.
Thankfully my job allowed me to work from home, so I didn't have to face going out. I'm good enough at my job that I whittled my eight hours a day I used to spend at work down to a couple of hours a day at home on the computer. My son, however, was not as thrilled or lucky. Like most nineteen-year-olds he had a very busy social life that came to a screeching halt. He had just started his first semester at the local community college when lockdown happened and now, he spends his school time online with the rest of the world and ninety-nine percent of his social life with me.
We spent every minute of the day with each other, aside from showers and alone time in our own rooms. As a mother, I loved the fact that I got to share this time with him. God knows he'll be gone soon enough living his own life, so this time for me is precious.
As the months have rolled along, looking for new things to do was an everyday task. We painted, worked out, watched every series imaginable, cooked a lot, and generally kept busy. We were constantly talking to each other about any interests we might have and explored them all. Our talks eventually got to be more intimate as we talked about missing dating and generally missing being touched by the opposite sex. We both started to feel a little lonely, even though we saw each other every day.
During one of our talks, I suggested that we start a routine of snuggling together on the couch in the evenings. At first, I think he felt a little awkward about being so close to me for an extended period, but after a couple of nights, he was as excited about our time together as I was. Soon he started to ask if it was time yet, and I was feeling very grateful about us spending this time together. It took me back to when he was a young child. I was getting emotional thinking about how nurturing those times were for both of us.
It was so nice to rest my head on his chest and feel his arms wrapped around me. Sometimes I would lay with my head in his lap. On more than a few occasions I noticed his manhood coming to life in his sweatpants. I felt a thrill, knowing that he was excited and in turn that seemed to make my body react to his touch. Every stroke of his fingers on my arms sent chills through me that went to places a mother is not supposed to feel. He would slowly stroke his hand through my hair and rub his hand down my back, sending goose bumps radiating through me.
I was looking forward to our time together as much as he was and longed for the moment our bodies would touch. The nurturing feeling of holding my son and being held by him fed something in me that I couldn't quite put a finger on. More on that later.
A week had gone by and as nighttime approached, I could feel my body start to get excited. I was shocked at how much pleasure I was getting from this. We both took to wearing loose sweats and t-shirts, and due to having a 38E bust my nipples would constantly rub on the fabric of my shirt and keep them hard as a rock. I breastfed my son for a year and a half and during that time my breasts got very large. My nipples and areolas turned a dark brown and reddish-brown color and got equally as large as the rest of my breasts and never went away. It's one of my favorite attributes about myself. They may be mom boobs, but they're spectacular and so very sensitive. I caught him several times a day locked onto my breasts with his eyes. I can't blame him. I'm the only woman he gets to see in person.
His erections only got more frequent as time went on. He would be half hard before we got to the couch. It was comical watching him try to hide the obvious bulge in his sweats. He would try to stay turned or hold his hand over his crotch, but according to the size of the bulge he was obviously too well endowed for that to be an option. As soon as my head was laid on his thigh, I could hear his breathing start to change which only spurred on my teasing of him. I would ever so slowly move my head from side to side, all the while knowing I was teasing his cock back and forth under my head.
When I would snuggle up to him, he would wrap his arm around me and pull me in until my breast was firmly pushing up against his arm and chest. This only caused me to become even more turned on than I was pretending not to be. His touch was exhilarating, and I began to long for it when we weren't on the couch.
I've always been touchy, feely with lots of hugging and back rubs and that sort of thing, but now we had taken that to another level. I would constantly wrap my arms around him until he would hold me tightly against his muscular frame. It was becoming common for either of us to rest a hand on the other if we were close to one another. Usually, he would slip his arm around my waist and rest his hand just under my breast or I would run both hands over his chest and wait for him to pull me in for a close hug. Our bodies would be so close that even our knees would touch. I simply couldn't get enough of him.
You have to love the internet. If you have an idea about anything, all you need to do is search online to find out things you never imagined. One day while my son was busy doing online classes I had the idea to search for "what could I do to bring about a stronger feeling of nurturing for my child?" The list included supporting, touching, setting boundaries, communicating etc. I felt like I was doing all those things, so I kept searching for something I wasn't doing, until I found an article that piqued my interest.
The article was titled "How to Foster a Nurturing ABF Relationship". What is ABF? Well, that question was answered in the first few sentences. ABF stands for adult breastfeeding relationship. According to the article, the connection between partners becomes very strong. I immediately thought back to when I had breastfed my son and how I felt every time he would latch onto my nipple. A calm peace would come over me that was indescribable. Euphoria comes to mind, as well as a deep bonding. Now that some time has passed, I can remember fondly, feeling very sexually charged and occasionally having small orgasms from the over stimulation of my breasts. Mm I miss those days.
How could I get that back with my son? Would he even want to do something like that? Where do I even begin? Once again, I went down the rabbit hole of the internet looking for answers. In no time at all I had read a few articles about re lactating. Apparently, since I had done it before it was supposed to be easier. There is a mountain of info out there and it didn't take me long to figure out the next step.
I needed a reason to explain to my son why I was going to start this milky journey. I had to think about it for a couple of days before it hit me. With the pandemic in full force, milk banks were not getting enough donations to keep up with demand. Some women have a difficult time producing milk and the milk banks are there to help with that issue.
It was perfect. With a good plan laid out in my head, I got online and purchased a breast pump, nursing bras and some domperidone to help things move faster. I was so excited; I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to. Now how to bring the subject up to my son? I decided that our special snuggle time was the best place to do it, so I waited until that evening to broach the subject.
We had been on the couch for about a half an hour when I rolled myself over so that I was looking up at him with my head firmly in his lap. I could literally feel the pulse in his cock it was so hard. I started with "there's something I want to talk with you about". I then proceeded to tell him about the poor mothers that couldn't feed their babies and how that really pulled at my heart strings. I told him about how much I loved breastfeeding him and how much it meant to me and how I believed that I could help.
For the most part he was quiet, but after that statement he asked how I thought I could help? I could tell he hadn't put two and two together and had to explain that I was going to get my breast to start making milk so I could donate it. I explained about the pump and how many times a day I was going to have to use it. I could tell he was picturing me with a pump on my breasts by the lustful look on his face. I also told him about the medication I would take to help me start. He took it all in until I was all finished and then I asked him if he had any questions. He responded with an offer of any help if that was even possible and to try and support me in any way he could.
I reached a hand up and cupped his face and gave him the I love you so much, look that only a mother can give her child. He put his hand over mine and held it there for what seemed like ten minutes as time seemed to slow down. His other hand was slowly stroking my hair, gently brushing it away from my face and over my ears. Could I ask for a better son? I know he's a male and really, they will look at any breast, but it was in the way he said he would support me that made my insides melt with desire.
I was going to have to go to bed early so I could relieve myself sooner than later I was so turn on right then. I forced myself to turn back over as we continued to watch our show, and he kept rubbing my head and sensually moved his hand down my back. I told him to ask if he had any questions later that he couldn't think of right now. I got an mmhm out of him and he tightened his hand on my lower back which sent shivers down my spine, and I could feel my nipples respond by getting hard as diamonds. Patience, I kept telling myself, I didn't want to freak him out. If my plan goes as I think it should, we are going to be happy sooner than later.
The next week dragged on and on. I impatiently checked the tracking on my orders and finally by Friday everything had arrived. I took the packages to the kitchen table and started to unbox them all. My son tried to appear as if he wasn't interested but as I watched from the corner of my eye, I could see him stealing looks when he thought I wasn't looking. I set everything out on the table and started to put together the pump. I popped open the meds and took the first dose. It was going to be three times a day for a while, until I could get off of it as my supply got larger.
That first day I chose to go to my room to pump for the first few times. I wanted my son to imagine my nipples being sucked and elongated as the suction pulled them tightly into the tubes with the bottles attached. Soon my nipples would swell even more prominently than they already were, and my breasts would grow even larger, as milk filled them. I will give my son credit; he played it off like he wasn't completely enthralled by the thought of me going to use the pump. I could feel his eyes follow me across the room though as I headed for my bedroom.
After I got everything, all set up, I leaned back against my headboard and placed the first pump cone on my right breast then pushed the button. My breast and nipple were instantly sucked against the cup and that wonderful familiar feeling came right back. After the first one was in place and comfortable, I placed the other cup to my left breast. I immediately felt an excitement deep down in my core that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.
As the pump ran through its first cycle, I closed my eyes and imagined my son lying across my lap. His lips and mouth, full of my aching full breast, as I pictured milk filling his mouth. My life-giving elixir flowing through me and sending a warm glow throughout my body. I was lost in the fantasy and sooner than I expected, the pump shut off. Twenty minutes had gone by in a flash and so began my journey.
I had all the time in the world thanks to covid, so I started a pumping schedule every three hours. I let my son know that no matter what we were doing, I would have to stop and stick to my schedule if I wanted it to work. He became very interested in how It was going and how I was feeling. We had lots of conversations, especially in the evenings when I was snuggled up to him. I would tell him about how my breasts were starting to feel swollen and how they felt a little achy right before I'd use the pump. I explained how my nipples would get very stiff when they were getting close to that time and how almost immediately after I started pumping, the ache would turn into a pleasurable feeling. All this talk got him breathing harder and he was constantly in a state of arousal according to the giant bulge in his lap. I could literally see that he was picturing all of this in his head. I was feeding his sexual fantasies, even though he wouldn't admit it outright. He always had questions about how things were going and always tried to play it off as curiosity. I don't know if he could think about anything else. I loved every minute of it.
At about three days into pumping, my breasts had gone up in at least a cup size and were really starting to feel like milk was being made. At the end of that third day, I got my first drops of milk. When I looked in the bottles and saw white liquid in the bottom, I let out a little scream of joy. This, in turn, caused my son to come running to my room because he thought something was wrong. He threw open the door out of concern for my well-being and was met with something completely the opposite of what he imagined.
I was leaning against my headboard, topless, breast pumps attached and me swirling the milk that had accumulated in the bottles. I was wearing the biggest smile, looking at the bottles and it took him a minute to register all he was seeing. He stood there, dazed and wide eyed as I looked up at him and directed his eyes towards the milky bottles. I made a show of swirling the milk in the bottles and gave him the biggest smile I could. After the shock of seeing me half naked cleared just a little, he started to apologize for walking in in me and moved towards the door. I stopped him and told him it was ok if he wanted to stay and revel in my excitement with me.
Seconds passed, and I could watch the wheels turn as he slowly made his way over to the bed. I patted the spot directly in front of me and I crossed my legs so he could sit closer. The pump still cycled through pulling and then letting my nipples relax. With every pull in, a small amount of milk was being dropped into the bottles. My son couldn't take his eyes from what was happening right in front of him. He asked if I could feel the milk come out and if it hurt when the pump stretched my nipples that far. Of course, my answer was yes, I could feel the milk come out and when it did, I got a huge sense of relief and pleasure from it. I explained how even though my nipples were really being stretched, they were made for this, and it was very enjoyable to feel them being pulled in a such a rhythmic way. We were quiet after that for the next ten or so minutes and then this session was over.
Instead of telling him I was done, I slowly pulled each cone off one at a time. My large swollen nipples stayed erect, and both had milk drops hanging from them. My son's mouth was hanging open in awe. I handed him the bottles to hold as I wiped my breasts dry and reached for my shirt. My empty breasts jiggled and swayed back and forth in plain sight for my son to see, as I slipped my shirt on and took the bottles from him. I unscrewed them so I could put the milk in the refrigerator and couldn't believe I pumped a solid two ounces from each breast. It was better than I hoped for at this point. My excitement grew as I knew it would only get better from here.
I don't think my son blinked the entire time. I thanked him for helping me and walked out to the kitchen as if I had done this a thousand times before. I felt him watching every move I made as we both made our way to the kitchen. I grabbed a mason jar then emptied the bottles into it and placed it in the fridge. He asked how long my milk would stay good in the fridge, how I was going to donate it, how much I was going to make after my milk came in all the way. I told him I would have to freeze the milk in bags that were made for mothers' milk, and it would only last four days in the fridge without being frozen. I wasn't sure how much I would be able to make, since I hadn't breastfed since he was a baby. I said I remembered being able to produce more than he could ever have drunk back then. I added; I think that was a big part of the reason my breasts got so large the first time so we will have to see as how it goes.
His face was flushed, and he was trying to stay behind the counter to block the view of his tenting sweats. He excused himself quickly, saying he needed to go to his room for something he forgot to do online. I knew he was going to go and masturbate to thoughts of what he just witnessed. I decided not to give him a hard time about it, this time. Pretty soon he wouldn't be able to go anywhere in the house without getting an erection if I could help it. I was going to make sure of that. He wasn't the only one though that needed a release. I was getting just as aroused as he was. The thrill of teasing him coupled with having my breasts stimulated so many times a day had kept me perpetually horny.
When it came time for our snuggling session and as I came out of my bedroom from my latest pumping session, my son watched me from the couch as I went to the fridge and dumped an astonishing six ounces into the jar. My breasts felt so primed and ready to start really producing. My son asked how things were going and as I told him how much I had made, I started to wash out the bottles at the kitchen sink. Being the sweetheart/horny man that he is, he offered to take care of that part for me if I wanted him to. Of course I wanted him to, I wanted him to participate more than he was willing to ask for, but I wasn't letting on to that just yet. I was going to stick to my plan.
While his hands stroked my back and head, I posed a question to him. "Would it bother you if I was to start pumping in the living room? I'm tired of being stuck in my bedroom so often and I don't like feeling so alone while I'm doing it." He tried to play it cool, but his response of, "of course I don't mind, anything I can do to help!" sounded more excited than he was trying to let on. I knew he really wanted to see more of me, and I wanted him to. From then on, except when I had to wake up in the middle of the night to pump, I would set everything up near the couch as my pumping spot. It was easy to see the couch from anywhere except our bedrooms, due to an open floor plan. My son even started doing his schoolwork in the living room, (it was the first time since covid started) or dining room table, which left an unobstructed view as I pumped milk out of my breasts.
When it was time to pump, I would get set up, shirt off, pumps attached to my breasts, and I would have my son's complete attention. He would find any reason to talk to me face to face; constantly trying to keep eye contact but invariably they would drift to my chest. With every pumping session, my milk production was going up and up. This went on for the next three days and on the morning of the fourth day my first pump of the day produced a total of fifteen ounces. I was amazed at how quickly my supply had come in. I know I was taking medication, but even with that, I thought it would take longer. I now had multiple jars in the fridge. It was starting to look like a dairy case.
That morning, I asked my son if he wanted to try my milk since he seemed so interested in the whole process. Of course, he agreed. With a big smile on my face, I poured him a small amount of my chilled milk into a large glass and handed it to him. He looked at it for a couple of seconds, lifted it to his lips and took a small sip. A huge smile crept across his face as he swallowed it down. To say he drank the rest fast would have been an understatement. He finished every drop and proclaimed enthusiastically that it was the best drink he'd ever had. I asked if he wanted a little more and then filled the glass to the brim this time. In no time he had it to his lips and was savoring every swallow. He thanked me profusely and retired to his room almost immediately. I'm certain he's going to get rid of other fluids by taking things into his own hands, wink, wink.
The rest of the day went much the same as the past few had, and as our snuggling time approached, I had a brilliant idea. I would be first to get to the couch tonight and he could lay in my lap. I mean it's only fair, right? That's exactly what happened. A few minutes went by with me massaging his head and then I told him that it was time for me to pump, but he could stay right where he was as it wouldn't interfere with the process.
I grabbed the sides of my shirt and pulled it over my head almost immediately, so he didn't have a chance to respond. My breasts hung heavily on my chest, full of milk and were ready to be emptied. My left breast gently rested on the back of my sons' head which prompted my nipples to get even more erect than they already were. I then reached for the cups sitting next to me, turned on the pump and applied them to my breasts. In no time at all milk started to make a dripping noise going into the bottles. Once the dripping sound started, my son started to get restless and couldn't stop fidgeting in my lap.
I leaned down closer to his ear and asked softly if he would like to try my milk while it was warm. He timidly said yes, he would like to. I reached over and turned off the pump and slowly pulled the bottles away from my breasts. Small rivers of milk streamed down my breasts and continue down my stomach. My letdown had just started, and my breasts were ready to eject as much milk as they could as fast as they could. I told my son to close his eyes and to roll over and face me.
His head turned in my lap and I guided him a little closer towards my chest with my right hand. I told him to let his lips fall open just a little and as he did that, I took hold of my breast and placed the nipple on his lips. Milk was dripping continuously now, and his lips were very quickly covered. With his lips parted, I pushed my breast further into his mouth past his lips, telling him to open his mouth a little more. I instructed him to start suckling and to keep his suction constant as he glides his tongue up towards my nipple, then to keep repeating that until he's getting more milk out.
Like a duck to water, in less than a minute, he had a rhythm going and was starting to have to swallow constantly. His whole body relaxed as the warm milk filled his mouth. I cupped his head, holding him to my breast with my right hand and rubbed his chest with my left. My son started to open his eyes and looked up at me with passionate love like I've never seen before. I rubbed the hair off his forehead and sighed, as I felt the milk being drained out of me and into his mouth. There is no other feeling like your breasts releasing and the burst of oxytocin rushing through your body as you feel relief and comfort.
I looked longingly into his eyes and told him that he didn't need to stop, that he could drink my milk until he was satisfied. That got him to let out an uncontrollable moan that sent shivers throughout my body. In turn, I pulled him even closer to my chest so he would know, I meant what I said. You would think my son had been breastfeeding recently, because he very quickly became adept at getting all the milk out of that breast. Soon enough, I could tell that I was empty on that side, but he was still softly suckling, afraid that if he let my breast out of his mouth it would somehow end this wonderous dream.
I quickly put that notion to rest, as I told him it was time to switch to the other breast, if he wanted to. With a smile I could see, even with his mouth full of my breast, he nodded a resounding yes please. I instructed him to slowly let go of the suction and let my breast out of his mouth. I rearranged myself on the couch until my right breast was in front of his face. This time, his enthusiasm was clear, as he moved his lips forward and pulled me into his mouth. We both sighed and moaned as the milk started to flow. He was taking big gulps, and I could hear him swallowing, over and over. Success! Stage one of my plan was complete. I could move things along a little faster now that I had him hooked on my milk.
Soon enough, my right breast was empty and as I pulled it out of his mouth, I saw a very satisfied look on my son's face. He couldn't stop smiling and neither could I. I commented, "You seem to have enjoyed that". I said, more as a statement than a question. Even though he answered, "yes, very much, thank you Mom". We continued with him in my lap looking up at me, with my bare breasts staring him in the face. I caressed his face and head until it was time for bed. Not another word was spoken about what had just happened. Eventually it was time for bed, so I kissed him on the cheek and then said our good nights to one another. We shared an extra-long hug, and I thanked him for all his help and kissed him again, this time on the lips. I turned to pick up my pump and supplies and then headed towards my own room.
Once I had the door shut and my clothes off, I couldn't get my vibrator inside of me fast enough. My god I was so wet, my lips were swollen, and juices were dripping down my thighs. I was so wet that I plunged my fake cock as deep as it could go, in one quick thrust. It didn't take but two minutes before I had to bury my head in a pillow to keep from screaming, as the best orgasm I can ever remember having coursed through my body. It seemed to last for more than a minute before I could even begin to move again. The vibrations kept me right on the edge of another. I slowly pushed it a little deeper and found my g-spot which pushed me into another powerful climax. When I came down, I was spent. I pulled my rubber friend out of me and almost immediately fell asleep. That is, until my alarm rang for my next pumping session, two hours later.
My supply had continued to increase over the next couple of days, so much so, that I was pumping between twelve and fifteen ounces from each breast, at each pumping session. I was ecstatic that things had gone so well so fast. My son was also excited to watch pumping all day every day. I was making enough milk that I told him he could drink it or use it on his cereal any time he wanted to. Any time I saw him getting a jar out to pour some milk, not long after, his pants would be tented. He was so consumed with the act of drinking my milk that he wouldn't even notice. My nipples would swell instantly, which sent bolts of lightning between my legs and set my sex on fire.
We continued our nightly ritual of snuggling on the couch, but I was pumping without letting him drink from my breasts. I knew it was driving him wild with desire and only building his hunger for me. I would rub his head and let him watch me pumping. He was so eager to help that he would ask multiple times a day if there was anything he could do. Pavlov would be proud.
We were snuggling on the couch one night, and I asked if we could have a serious conversation. He would have agreed to anything at this point, so my question was more for show than anything. I was trying to keep the illusion that anything that happened between us was due to his desires. I asked "What would you think about helping me out at night? I'm getting exhausted from getting up every three hours. I'm up at least two or three times, and after every time, I have to take the milk I've pumped to the refrigerator.
I have two questions. One, would you help me with getting my milk out, without me having to pump? You did such a great job last week and you seem to enjoy my milk quite a bit. In other words, would you please let me nurse you at night, so I don't have to deal with pumping? Second, if you were to sleep in my bed with me, I wouldn't have to come to get you, and you wouldn't have to get up. I'm asking if you would sleep in my room from now on, so we both can get rest, but you can still help me?"
I rested my hand on his chest as I took a deep breath and waited for his answer. "Of course I'm willing to help mom!" was his reply. "Yes? I was so nervous to ask you, I wasn't sure you would want to be around your old mom that much." "Mom! You are not old for crying out loud, and why wouldn't I want to spend more time with you? I don't want to hear another word about it." I smiled at him; he smiled back at me. We sat in silence and watched as my breasts continued to be pulled into the cups.
The humming of the pump and the drip, drip, sound of milk filling bottles were the only sounds that could be heard. Now for the final part of my plan.
The rest of the night before bed, dragged on. I so wanted to take his hand and lead him to my bed; it wasn't going by fast enough. When that time finally came, I went through my usual bedtime routine and so did he. We met in my room and as I pulled the covers back, I told him it would be easier to sleep without a shirt on as it would get in the way of nursing later on. He shook his head in agreement and proceeded to watch me undress. It didn't take long, as I was only wearing yoga pants and a thin T-shirt. He never took his eyes off of me, as I peeled the garments off and tossed them towards the hamper.
I was now naked as the day I was born. His eyes devoured me and in the dim light I watched him try to get a better look, in between my legs. I spread my legs slightly, to give him a better view of my shaved honey pot, that was threatening to start leaking, slippery juice down my legs. I crawled into bed and leaned against the headboard, watching to see what my son would do next. I knew that he slept in the nude and was hoping he'd have the courage to take it all off for me. I decided to be proactive and tell him that it was ok for him to wear or not wear what he usually did when he went to sleep.
With a quickly flushing face, he peeled his shirt off and then I could see he was debating on whether or not to take off his pajama bottoms. His hormones won and he slowly pushed the waist band down until they slipped off his legs and hit the floor. He quickly crawled into the covers and propped himself up to sit next to me. I instructed him that we needed to nurse every three hours and that the next session needed to be in two hours, so we had better get some sleep. I leaned over and gave him a not so motherly kiss on the cheek and turned the light out. We wished each other sweet dreams and laid down to sleep.
It took forever to fall asleep. I couldn't stop thinking about my son being in bed with me and what I was hoping was going to happen soon.
The alarm broke the silence of the night as I woke up like a kid on x-mas morning. My son was not used to waking up, which meant I had to nudge him a little before he realized where he was and what needed to happen. Once that realization kicked in though, he was wide awake and ready to do whatever I instructed him to do. I told him we didn't need to get up, if he'd scoot down the bed a little until his mouth was directly in front of my breasts, we could start. He did as he was told and now, I could feel his hot breath on my chest. My nipples were hard as rocks and ready to give their bounty. I grabbed my right breast and guided it to his mouth. His lips found my nipple easily, as he opened his mouth and drew my breast in. It's a rush the first few seconds, as my body knows it's going to be relieved.
I reach down and take hold of my son's right arm and bring it up to my side and then tell him that it's alright if he touches me while he's nursing. He moans into my breast, as it starts to let go of my milk. I hear him drinking in steady swallows. His hand starts to move up and down my side. Going from my shoulder to past my hip. Each time he goes down, he gets a little closer to my butt, kneading me as he goes. I whisper that he's doing such a great job and that my breast is feeling so much better now that he's emptying me. We've moved closer to each other, and I can feel his erection poking my leg now. He's profusely leaking pre-cum and his hips are thrusting back and forth involuntarily now. My thigh is thoroughly coated in his slippery juices. If he touched my quim, he would know that I am just as excited and ready as he is.
We keep this up until that breast is empty and then I have him scoot down a tiny bit more and lift my other breast to his mouth. His hand is now firmly grabbing my ass and massaging it to the same rhythm he's sucking my breast. I feel like I could come if he keeps it up. Let down happens and a gush of milk hits his mouth and he thrusts forward further than he has up until now.
His rigid cock slipped between my thighs; due to all the juice he's poured onto my legs. In response, I squeezed my thighs together, then place my hand on his hip. I start pushing and pulling him, causing his cock to start sliding between my thighs. The feeling is glorious for both of us. His moans are nonstop now. After a couple of minutes, he places his hand on my lower back and starts to really thrust into me, bouncing our bodies together as he nears his impending orgasm. I lean my head down to his and kiss him, then whisper, "It's ok, go ahead and let it happen, there's nothing to be ashamed of my beautiful boy." Right then, I felt the head swell between my legs and then spasm as his hot seed coated my wanton thighs.
I held his head to my breast even tighter as he continued his release. I felt him relax and then start to catch his breath; all the while he never stopped suckling my breast. I was ecstatic at how things had turned out today. I was one step closer to having all my desires fulfilled. It was another ten minutes before the breast he was draining was empty. I kissed him on the forehead as he rolled onto his back and quickly fell asleep. His belly certainly full of milk and his stiff cock now drained; sweet slumber had taken him.
I couldn't hardly go back to sleep, knowing that in a couple of hours, we would get to do it all again. My pussy was so wet, as well as my thighs, but I fought the urge to touch myself. I wanted the next orgasm I had, to be given to me by my son.
In no time at all, the alarm went off. The pressure in my breasts was at maximum capacity as I rolled over toward my son and gently placed my left breast on his lips. His lips parted and let the wet nipple into his mouth. Without opening his eyes, he started to suckle me. Drawing in milk almost immediately as I heard him swallowing with every other pull of my nipple. Slowly, he started to wake up and realize what was happening. His hand found my hip and slowly made its way up my body, rubbing as it went. My letdown was intense this time and I could feel the milk rush out of my breast and empty into my son's mouth.
It was such a glorious feeling of warmth and love and the nurturing I longed for all these years. Little did I know that my son was who I should have looked for to fill this need, that had been unfulfilled for so long. It was three o'clock in the morning as my son emptied my right breast and as he took my left into his mouth, A feeling of contentment came over me. There was nowhere else I wanted to be and no one else I wanted to be with. This was perfect. Both of us never completely woke up this time. Our bodies intertwined and warming each other kept us in a state of dreaminess.
We awoke to the next alarm going off, a sudden realization that he had fallen asleep with my breast still in his mouth. He'd finished nursing and instead of letting go, he stopped suckling but kept suction on my breast to hold my nipple firmly in his mouth, like a pacifier, soothing himself with my breast. He didn't waste any time and started to suckle again, taking long pulls on my areola, his tongue pulling milk towards his waiting mouth. He drank greedily for the first five minutes and then got into a rhythm. Suck, suck, swallow, suck, suck, swallow.
It was hypnotic. I was lost in what he was doing to my body. My entire being was compelled to give him as much pleasure as I could. I rubbed his head and pulled him even further into my breast with one hand and snaked my other down his chest and stomach, towards his swollen cock. Mm, he's shaved I thought as my hand reached further, until I found what I was looking for. My fingers circled his hot rod which elicited a moan and a hip thrust. I squeezed it several times and started slowly stroking him. He couldn't stop moaning now. I kept stroking him until he had completely drained my second breast.
The moment he let my nipple fall from his mouth, I pulled him by his cock and the back of his head, until he was firmly on top of me. I wrapped my legs around him to hold him in place. Not that I needed to, but it felt good and pushed his erection further into my pubic bone. I reached up with both hands and held his face in front of me and looked him in the eyes. "Son I'm yours to take if you'll have me?" was all I said before I kissed him full on the lips. Not a motherly kiss, but that of a lover. Soon enough, our tongues were exploring one another's mouths and our hands were roaming all over each other. He asked, "Are you serious Mom?".
My response was to reach down and guide his aching cock to my wet parted lips. Once I got him close, I let go and left it up to him to complete our union. He gently kissed my lips and then started to slide the head of his cock up and down my lips. I could feel it spreading my lips out, so that they dragged on either side of him as it moved up and down. It was driving me crazy with lust.
I wanted him inside me so badly, but I needed him to take that next step. He continued teasing me for another five minutes before I felt it. He pushed forward about an inch, just enough to have his head buried inside of me. Our lips met passionately and then he plunged himself all the way into me, in one slow movement of his hips. I can't remember ever feeling so full. His cock was magnificent. It was the perfect size. Long and thick but not too much. He bottomed out, just as our bodies came together. I immediately began to orgasm the second his cock touched my cervix. I started to shake and moan uncontrollably as the biggest orgasm of my life overtook me. I thrashed my head back and forth as my body convulsed in pleasure.
It seemed to never end. Ever so slowly, he pulled out, until just the tip was inside and then thrust himself back in. He did this over and over again, keeping the same slow and then fast pace. I was shaking uncontrollably now, as one non-stop orgasm after another washed over my body as he continued to impale me over and over again. Our eyes never left one another. I could see the love that he had for me and I reflected it back at him as he made sweet love to me.
The tell-tale sign of his cock head swelling inside of me, let me know that he was close to filling my womb with his seed. A questioning look came over his face. I held his face in my hands and told him it was ok to finish what he started. Just then, a powerful orgasm overtook him and I could feel hot jets of cum being shot against my cervix, which caused me to have another orgasm. We laid there, breathing hard, as he laid his head on my shoulder then nibbled and kissed my neck. I turned and kissed him like a woman kisses a lover. Our passion still aflame.
We laid like this for several minutes until he started to soften inside of me. He rolled over and lay next to me and as we looked at each other, we had the biggest shit eating grins on our faces. Both of us were too afraid to ask where this would go from here.
After using the bathroom and getting us coffee. I spoke first. "Son, I love you so very much and I can only hope that what we've done, is something you want to continue doing. I'm yours, if you want me. I've wanted to tell you how I was feeling, but couldn't find the right words to say. I wanted everything we just did and more, and want nothing more than to bring us both pleasure and happiness."
His response was to set our cups on the nightstand, cupped his hand on the back of my head and pulled me closer to him, kissing me deeply. Then he lifted a breast to his mouth, as his fingers found their way in between my legs. He plunged two fingers deep inside of me and slowly fingered me as he drank his breakfast.
After he had emptied that breast and just as he was about to switch to the other, I threw my leg over him and straddled his lap. My pendulous breasts hung down to his face. My hand reached between us to guide him back inside of me. I rode him slowly to let him empty my breast and when he had swallowed the last drop, I began to fuck him like a woman possessed. I was slamming my sex down onto him and crying out in sweet ecstasy. Every downward thrust sounded lewdly wet, as our bodies collided. Once again, my orgasm came like a hurricane, hard and fast and lasted longer than I could have imagined.
My son's hefty cock filled me up in ways I didn't know I wanted to be. Being on top gave me the perfect angle to take him as deeply as I could. With my hands pushing down on his chest, his hands gripping my hips, and the circular motion of my hips, I stayed on the verge of constantly cumming.
My son was lasting much longer this time around. His confidence was also growing. After another orgasm, he pulled me up and off of him and crawled behind me. I had my face buried in the sheets and my ass was sticking up for him to use at his will. His hands grabbed my hips and I felt the tip of his spear spread my lips as he entered me in one smooth motion, bottoming out inside me and holding me tight to his body. He started with a few long slow thrusts and then proceeded to fuck me. There is no other way to describe it other than he fucked me longer and harder than I've ever been. He used me and made me his, is how I felt about it.
After a string of orgasms, his cock began to swell up. A few more deep thrusts, and he bottomed out and then it overtook him. He was shaking and moaning as his cum filled my womb. He never let go of my hips, holding me firmly against him.
As he caught his breath, he bent over and laid on my back and said, "Mom, I don't ever want to stop any of this. I never thought in a million years that you felt the same way that I've felt about you for quite a while now. Being nursed by you is the most erotic thing that's ever happened to me and your milk is like the elixir of life. I don't want to go back to the way it was a few weeks ago. I want us to be together and continue what we've started. I might be over stepping, but I don't want to share your milk. I want it all, and I want you all to myself."
When he finished saying that he pulled out, laid down next to me, and pulled me onto him so he could wrap his arms around me in a hug. I hugged him back and kissed him repeatedly. "You've made me the happiest woman alive!". "Now, let's go shower before its time for your next feeding."