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Mom's milk part 2

"teen feeds from his mother"

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I came in from school tired. It was a really hot day, and I had worked out really hard. I was training for the district meet, it was my chance to go to state finals, and my coach wanted it badly. After a monster session in the weight room, I had run windsprints for forty five minutes, then finished with a five mile run that ended at home.

I rushed through the little bit of homework that I hadn’t already completed at study hall before practice while I cooled down, then I showered. I hadn’t seen my mom yet, and I knew that Dan was out of town for a few days. Wearing only a pair of boxers, I went to my mom’s room and looked in. She was sitting in her rocking chair with the baby, who was asleep in her arms.

My mom looked great. She had lost the weight she gained during pregnancy and seemed to be enjoying our new intimacy as much as I was. Her eyes were bright and her smile quicker, just like before the accident. The baby was almost six months old, yet she was still breastfeeding. She was reluctant to give up that special intimacy, and showed no signs of wanting to go back to work.

That was fine with me; as long as she breast fed the baby, she was willing to do so for me as well. I had come to crave that special time we shared together, as I lay against her, suckling from her. It wasn’t about the milk; it was the special time we shared. It was more therapeutic than all the meds I had ever taken.

I watched them for a while before she realized I was there. She looked beautiful in her nightgown and bathrobe. I had never known her to be happier. I suddenly craved her badly. I wanted to lie with her, to bond as one as I drank from her.

She noticed me and put her finger to her mouth, motioning for me to be silent. She got up, carried the baby to the nursery and gently lay it in its crib. She then came back to her bedroom and spoke to me for the first time.

“Hello, sweetie. How was school today?”

“It was okay,” I said.

She could tell I wanted something, that I wasn’t interested in discussing my school day. My mom was always ready to give of herself for whoever demanded her attention, whether it be the baby, her husband or me. That’s just the way she was. And you didn’t have to ask her; she knew.

She put her arms around me, pulling me against her and caressed my hair. Her lips were against my cheek as she murmured, “Would you like to lie down?”

She knew I would. I didn’t feed from her every day, not even when Dan was out of town. But sometimes the urge was overpowering. The urge was overpowering now, I wanted to lie with her, badly.

As she held me against her breasts, my erection grew long and stiff. Although I was wearing only boxer shorts, I had long since overcome any embarrassment about my mother seeing me this way. She could feel my erection against her leg.

She took off her bathrobe and flung it over the rocking chair. With her back to me, she took off her nightgown. She was now wearing only her black panties.

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She knew I preferred she remove her gown when I fed. The funny thing is, the act didn’t seem overtly sexual. I would say sensual is a more accurate term, in a loving sort of way. Maybe there’s no difference, but to me it seemed there was.

She lay down on her back. Her breasts, which before childbirth had been average, seemed huge now that her waist was small again. They flattened out as she lay back, the nipple big and hard. Taking my hand, she pulled me toward her and I lay down beside her.

She knew that this time was important for me, not just because of the feeding, but because of the intimacy we shared, the intimacy I knew from nobody else, that I had never known from anyone else. So we didn’t hurry it, we never went straight to feeding. I lay with my face on her chest as she played with my hair, twisting it and caressing it. She made small talk, as she always did. She liked to remember stories about when I was a baby in her lap, telling me what it was like to hold me. That made me feel really good, for some reason.

As I lay there, listening to her murmuring and feeling the softness of her breast against my face, I rubbed her belly and legs. I loved her belly best of all, and I loved rubbing her legs and buttocks, and I absolutely loved the soft skin under her arm. As I rubbed her skin, my dick grew impossibly hard. I was writhing against my mother as she continued caressing me.

She could tell I was overstimulated and she offered me her breast to calm me down. I eagerly took it and tasted the familiar sweetness of my mother’s body as her milk began to flow. The act of breastfeeding calmed me and satisfied me in a way nothing else did. It was very filling nutritionally, and I had been famished. But beyond that, it satisfied my soul.

She reached down with one hand and pulled my boxers down. I helped her pull them off, then nestled against her, sucking her breast with my hard dick pressing against her leg as she held me in her arms.

I quickly entered that place between sleeping and waking, where I always went while breastfeeding. It was a warm, comfortable place, with nobody else in the world except we two. My mind was numb with total satisfaction, even though I hadn’t cum. I was even unaware of my erection, though it was still long and hard. I was unconsciously rubbing my erection against my mother’s leg as I finished feeding from her.

Reaching down, she took my erection in her hand and squeezed. An overpowering feeling of warmth spread through my mind as my cum streamed from my dick, running over her hand and onto her belly. I held both of her breasts in my hands as I sucked from one of them, kneading them and playing with the nipple.

As my orgasm subsided, I panted until my breathing returned to normal, no longer hungry for her milk, totally satiated. I hugged her tightly and our bodies were as one. I wanted this moment to last forever. She held me in her arms and murmured as I went to sleep.

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Written by Sweetdreemz
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