I leaned over to look into the cup on the counter, and she only pulled her breast back enough for me to peer in, so my face was nearly on the breast itself. It smelled like her sweat and was so much her scent I found it irresistible. It sounds shameful but I was so consumed by lust I felt like taking her and putting her on the counter so I could suckle on her tits all on my own.
“Perfect,” I said with a smile.
“Good,” she said, and just like that she placed her tit back in her top and walked back to the stairs.
“Enjoy,” she said with a smile, and you could almost get the sense she knew my enjoyment had not just come from the milk, but from what I’d just seen transpire before my very eyes.
***
The next week my mom seemed glum again. I was still enjoying summer vacation, lounging around the house for the most part when I wasn’t at the gym, yet she was almost at home more than I was. Sometimes I’d see her move and it was almost as if she was in pain. When we ate together she was fairly silent, and she sometimes didn’t even say hello when we passed one another. Finally I brought the whole thing up when I found her at the dinner table, looking out the window and massaging her own shoulder with her off-hand.
“Look, something is definitely up,” I said.
She stopped rubbing her shoulder and I seemed to have caught her off guard, but she quickly shook her head. “What, with me? I’m fine, honey.”
“No, you’re not.” I said. “We can communicate, mom. I mean I’m sort of the man of the house now. If you can’t talk to me, who else is there? Maybe I can help.”
“You can’t,” she said, quietly. “It’s . . . it’s just that the moms around town haven’t needed me at all recently. Ones out of town, the other got fired and can be home with her baby all day . . . My breasts,” she winced a bit, “they just hurt with all the milk. They’re so big and they just put a strain on my shoulders, too. And not being able to help breastfeed hurts emotionally too, you know? It’s hard to stop doing what you love.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry mom.” I got up behind her and it seemed natural to rub her shoulder for her, and she responded immediately with a little cooing noise of approval. “Maybe I can help work out the kinks.”
“It’s not necessary honey,” she said. “Well, I guess it does feel pretty good.”
She let her head roll back and her eyes were closed, and I could clearly see her tits, so big I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them. Once again I began to get an erection, and this time it was poking through the bottom slit of the chair, the head doing its own massaging of my mother’s backside. I was still looking at her breasts, rubbing her shoulders, when I finally noticed my mom’s eyes open, following mine to her cleavage. Yet she didn’t say anything, and neither did I, and so I continued the massage.
Finally I spoke up, if only because I could not hold back any longer, my erection was so strong, my feelings equally so.
“Mom?” I said.
“Yes?”
“Maybe I can help you.”
“You already are.”
“In a different way, though. Remember how you helped with my cereal?”