Breast milk and maternal love 04

We moved again. Our new home is the marital home my mom prepared for my wedding, but now it's occupied by the
old couple, haha.

We moved here because most of the houses in this area were bought by out-of-town speculators; the whole building is basically empty
, so nobody pays attention to me and my mom.

My mom spends her days cooking for me, shopping for me, and making love to me.

Later, when I was five months pregnant, my mom started gaining weight again, and the baby was clearly showing.

I knelt down, crying, and swore to her that I would break off all contact with my girlfriend and that my mom would choose my girlfriends from now on.

My mom finally let me go, revealing a long-lost smile, and said, "That's my good baby.
Focus on your studies, don't date, and if you want to have sex, come to Mom."

I went to the hospital with her. On the way, I was constantly afraid the doctor would ask about my relationship with my mom. Although she
didn't look old, there was still an age gap between us.

But it turned out my worries were unnecessary.

There are so many abortions now, and hospitals are open-minded; they don't care about your relationship, they just
collect money.

The doctor said the fetus was too big to abort, and they could only induce labor.

The doctor said it was a boy, developing very well, what a pity.

Many people have abortions now, but few induce labors. The doctor was also puzzled as to why I had come so late, and told me
: "You should come to the hospital earlier for an abortion."

Induced labor is so painful! My mom was in so much pain after the induced labor; she lost a lot of weight.

I was heartbroken. I kept her in bed all day, taking care of her constantly, and I didn't even shave.

But under my care, she gradually regained her rosy complexion and fullness, while I, with my full beard, looked much older.

Now she looks about my age.

Later, I learned something she hadn't told me: induced labor can also cause milk production. She
threw away the medication the doctor prescribed to suppress lactation. I didn't know this, and my mom kept it from me.

After we went home, my mom's breasts started to swell and produce milk, soaking her clothes. After a few days
, it became unbearable; her breasts were swollen like balloons and very hard to the touch.

She looked at me pitifully and said, "Mommy feels uncomfortable, sweet baby, can you help Mommy suckle?"

How could I say no? My mom has plenty of milk; she can squeeze it so hard it sprays quite far.

Later, when we made love, the milk would spray out automatically if we were too rough. I didn't know why, so I asked her. She
smiled faintly and said, "It's milk arousal."

When I let her suckle, she teased me, deliberately squeezing her breast hard, spitting milk into my nose, making me
cough face and neck turned red.

I asked her when I could wean, and she said she was taking medication and would wean me then.

I suckled for half a month, and my mom still had plenty of milk. I asked her how much longer I had to suckle! She said coldly
, "I never took the medicine, I threw it all away, hehe. You drank my milk until you were five, now you're in luck again
."

I was stunned. My mom had played me again. This breast milk should have belonged to my younger brother, but now it had become
a shackle binding me.

My mom was as happy as a bride at home. Whether I was in class, studying, or doing experiments, my mom would send me a text message
: "Baby, my milk is swelling again.

" I would have to be in her bed within an hour and obediently let her nurse.

Actually, breast milk doesn't taste as good as cow's milk. Cow's milk has added food flavorings, making it taste better.

Breast milk is pure, a little thin, but sweet.

The taste changes depending on my mom's diet and mood.

When my mom is in a bad mood, the breast milk will have a fishy smell.

After a while, breastfeeding became as natural as drinking water.

A month later, my mother officially got back to work and was busy at home again.

She applied for early retirement.

For a mid-level manager in a state-owned enterprise with a monopolistic industry like her, everyone said it was a pity she retired early.

I asked her if staying with me was really that good. She lay in my arms and gently said to me, "Your mother's childhood
dream was to be a simple woman, staying with my man and living a simple life."

But she was unlucky, and God didn't give her that chance.

Every day, my mother and I treated each other with respect, and she didn't spank me during sex anymore.

Every morning, she would wake me up with oral sex, and after ejaculating in her mouth, she would stroke my penis
and breastfeed me.

When I'm free, I still make love with her more than four times a day. The difference is that now,
before empty both of my mother's breasts, otherwise the stimulation is too great and the milk will spray all over the bed and all over me.

I burp as I put my mother's legs on my shoulders and happily thrust into her honey hole,
mother and son greedily sucking each other's saliva.

I love kissing my mother the most. My mother's oral skills are amazing, even more
stimulating .

My mother's tongue is very soft, like a marshmallow, and very moist. The coating on her tongue is not obvious, showing a healthy
red color. She licks my teeth and tongue in my mouth, bringing me cool saliva.

She would suck on my tongue, using it like a penis to give me oral sex. My
tongue was being pleasured to the point of ecstasy in her mouth; it was so stretched out it was numb, but I didn't want to pull it back. Several times I was so greedy
that my tongue became stiff and couldn't be pulled back. My mother would then lick the base of my tongue little by little with her tongue, and slowly push it back with
the tip , until it finally returned to normal after a long while.

That's life; a peaceful and happy life can often be changed by a thoughtless remark.

Once, after making love with my mother, I lay in her arms, my head buried deep in her cleavage. I
tentatively asked her, "Mom, aren't you going to find me a wife? When are you going to find me a wife? I want a wife
."

My mother stroked my hair and said to me with a sorrowful expression, "Wouldn't it be good for Mom to be your wife?"

I was silent. "Of course it would be good! But what about Mom's future?"

My mother took out her breast, put her nipple in my mouth, and squeezed her breast. A surge of milk filled
my mouth.

My mother placed my hand on her bare, white legs, clad in black stockings, and said, "They
can't give you this."

I sucked on it passionately. My mother continued, "When your old mother can no longer take care of you, I'll
return your bride. First come, first served, what do you say?"

I said, "Mom, I really love you, but on that day, my bride might not be waiting for me. And
if I want a child then, I'll be too old. What will I do then?"

My mother laughed, "Whose milk are you drinking now? I really wanted to give you a little brother,
but you were so dramatic, I couldn't help it! I may be old, but if you like children, I
'd die again to give you one."

I cried. This is my mother.

A woman willing to have a child for you is a woman who truly loves you, especially when that woman is my
mother .

That night I slept restlessly, having several nightmares. My mother held me and comforted me

until I finally fell asleep peacefully.

The next morning, my mother was gone.

She left a note that read: "My dear baby, ask your bride for a child! Mommy
hasn't gone far. Bring the child home when you have it, and Mommy will breastfeed both of you.

Mommy hasn't gone far; Mommy is always watching over you.

Your loving mother." I finally couldn't hold back anymore and yelled, "Mom!"

before rushing out. I searched and searched, through the vast sea of people, for a week without success. My eyes were almost blind from crying
, and my legs were about to give out.

In desperation, I remembered my mother's note. I swallowed my pride and went to my girlfriend. For my mother's sake, I
didn't care about anything else. I told her about my mother, and she cried too.

She said she was willing to help me, and then we made love passionately. Less than a year later, we had our own daughter.

One day I came home and saw my mother sitting there, smiling and waiting for me. I rubbed my eyes—yes, it was
real , not a hallucination, not a dream! I rushed over like a madman, picked her up, and kissed her until her face
was covered in saliva and my tears.

I looked at my mother; she was still so beautiful, alluring, and queen-like.

My mother asked me, "Where's the baby?" My girlfriend came in carrying our daughter.

My mother smiled and said, "Come on, let me breastfeed the baby!"

I asked in surprise, "Mom, you still have milk?"

My mother said, "Yes! I pump every day; it's so hard.

What kind of mother is she if she doesn't breastfeed?"

My girlfriend fell silent.

She had taken medication to suppress lactation to maintain her figure, and her daughter was formula-fed.

The daughter smiled as she nursed at her mother's breast; the mother's milk was still plentiful, and the daughter even choked on it.

The mother said to her girlfriend, "Come live with my son! He has two mothers, a bride and an old mother.
"

At this, all four of us laughed.

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