Every morning I wake before the sun rises,

Calloused hands define my hard labour.

Exhausted, I stand, a family to feed,

I struggle to make the next dollar.

In the armchair, she sits, gently nursing our son,

Content, suckling her divine cream.

A sigh breaks his latch, in his cot he sleeps,

His frothy smile brings a tear that falls on her shoulder.

Her breasts, they heave, milky pearls at their peaks,

I long to drink her magic potion.

She cups my head, my lips latch on,

I suck upon her milky water.

She parts her legs, my fingers roam,

Slick nectar beckons them in.

I’m hard as a rock, my twisted mind,

I suck every globule, harder and harder.

Frenzied I feed, her nipples so sore,

I sink my latch in, deeper.

She grabs my head, I probe her deep,

Her moans grow louder and louder.

She grasps my cock and milks it hard,

I'm past the point of no return.

Milk drips from my lips, milk drips from my cock,

I'm rooted in the deepest pleasure.

On borrowed breasts, I rest my head,

Tender comfort like no other.

The taste of milk upon my lips,

I sleep, well sated by his mother.