She poked one eye open and gave me another look. “Are you hungry, baby? I can give you more milk for your cereal. It’d help me relieve some of the pain.”
I pulled away from her shoulders and came beside her, sliding her chair to face me. I’m pretty big — six-three, muscular from four years as a varsity linebacker in football — and other than her tits jutting out to almost reach my abdomen, she looked almost petite beneath me. My erection prodded through my shorts but I said nothing on the matter, just stood there for a moment.
“I’m not hungry for cereal,” I said. “Just for you.”
I didn’t let her get a word in. Immediately I leaned down, cupping her right breast in my hand, squeezing slowly, first from below, letting the whole mound sit in my hand, before moving onto the nipple. She said nothing, and looked on as if in a state of shock, yet when I pulled the nipple and milk began to soak her shirt, she made another noise and tried to stop me.
“Wesley, you shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know,” I said, leaning forward. “I’m getting your shirt all wet. Let me help with that, too.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
I reached behind her and in one quick movement pulled her t-shirt over her head and dropped it onto her table. Her tits reacted accordingly, wobbling at the movement before settling, finally revealed for me to see from the front and in full view. They were magnificent – large and firm yet pillow-like with milk; the areolas were moist, awaiting an eager mouth, dripping already
I came almost to a kneel and her legs spread, allowing me to scoot between them, her tits right above my head.
“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, but it was too late.
I latched onto her nipple, holding the whole breast still, and began to suckle, the milk gushing forth and filling my mouth, warm and as sweet as I’d expected. The stream pulsed with my every inhalation, offering me more, and rivulets flowing down my cheek. Before long my mother held my head to her breast, as if to encourage me, and her moans began to fill the room.
“The other one,” she said. “Suck it dry, Wesley. Please.”
I knew I would but I wanted better access to her, to her breasts, to her body. I stood up and grabbed her hand, and she stood up as well, following me into her bedroom. The sun snuck through the blinds and lay strips of golden light upon the bed. I picked up my mother and placed her onto the bed, and half plunged into the shade, half into the brightness of the room, it seemed to represent her emotions, her struggle to find happiness, and I only wanted to help lead her to the light.
I was a bit caught up in the moment, staring at her, and my mother, perhaps done with being watched, coaxed me forward; her eyes were on my groin, and she leaned upwards and grabbed there, at my extended penis, pulling me onto the bed.
“Where’d you get something so big, sweetie? Not your father, that’s for sure.”
There was no time to answer as I was already feasting on her left breast. She was on her back and I straddled her leg, half my body on her own, the other on the bed itself. I swallowed the milk steadily yet some still escaped my mouth, and now it flowed down her body, intermingling and meeting where my penis lay upon her thigh and beyond. My dick quickly grew to full length and the milk was like lube, and I could not stop myself from thrusting into her, as if her thigh was her pussy, using it as I continued to suckle her sweet juices from her nipple.