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“Ray?”
Anna’s in my arms and cuddling up to me. I hug her again. “What?”
“I hurt.”
We just had sex. I was more than a little excited – it was the first time we had sex in more than a year. MORE THAN A YEAR! “Sorry, babe. Was I too rough?”
“No, you were fine. I mean my breasts hurt.”
Oh. I understand. Our ten-month-old, Benjamin, is staying at her mother’s house for the night. It’s the first night we’ve had to ourselves since he was born. Hence the sex. Thank the lord for mother-in-laws. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I need you to help.”
“Glad to help. Whatever I can do.” She rolls away from me about a foot and lies on her back.
Her breasts. They take my breath away. Even though I just came, I can feel a pleasant stirring in my cock.
I like breasts. All breasts. I like Anna’s breasts. I especially like her larger breasts. I can judge to about the hour how long it’s been since she fed Benjamin. And yep, she’s at her limit.
I can imagine the milk inside şişli escort her breasts, filling them up. Making them heavy. Making them swell. I want to reach out and touch them, feel their weight, feel their size. Her nipples, now there not for my sexual pleasure, but as Benjamin’s spigot. More excitement from my cock. But she just said she was sore, so I’m afraid to feel her. But I want to.
Is she trying to get comfortable? Is that why she’s laying like that? And I’m supposed to help, but what am I supposed to do? She really needs Benjamin, not me.
Oh.
I understand.
But – really?
I am truly going to feel like an idiot. I’m a man, a strong man. I work really hard to be a strong man. Anna and Benjamin need me to be a strong man, they need that at work, everyone expects it. I like being strong. I like being a man.
I’m supposed to suck her milk like I’m a baby? This is not working for me.
I imagine my mouth on her hard nipple, tuzla escort my face buried in her breasts. Love those thoughts. But to actually drink her milk? That was Steinbeck’s fetish, not mine.
“Ray?”
I said I would help. I don’t want her hurting. “Don’t you have a breast pump?”
“No, I never needed one, and it’s too late to get one now. They cost money, you know. I thought I could do this tonight. Sorry, but I can’t.”
She tries to save us money. We need that.
She adds, “Be a man.”
This is probably not in anyone’s definition of being a man. No, it is: Helping my wife. Helping my wife with the problems of raising a baby. I scoot over to her and lower my face to her breasts. As a matter of habit, I start with kisses to her breast, then realize that isn’t the point.
Her nipple is staring at me, inches away. Challenging me. I take it into my mouth, which I have done so many times before. And I . . .
start sucking pendik escort on it.
Nothing happens at first, which is what I expected, and then there’s milk in my mouth. Which I expected, but it’s still not the kind of thing anyone could expect. Then I’m surprised when the milk is warm – somewhere in my head I thought all milk was cold.
And then I have a mouthful of milk, and I could spit it out, but there’s no convenient place to spit. And she swallows my cum when she gives me a blow job, so I think the same principle applies here. I respectfully swallow her milk.
Which is just strange. I’m not actually hungry, so I’m not getting the full effect that Benjamin gets. But, like Benjamin, my head is pillowed on her breasts, and my mouth is latched to her nipple. And I’m drinking the milk that my wife produced.
I tell myself I’m not a baby, that I am just doing this to help. Then that becomes unimportant. I settle into a routine of sucking and swallowing and being totally inside the full magic of her breasts. Life is a miracle.
When I am almost done with one breast, she moves me to the other and holds my head. When I’m finshed with that one, I look up at her and joke, “I just drank all of Benjamin’s milk.”
She smiles and kisses me. “I think I can make more.” And we lie back-to-back, touching, and fall asleep.