Coming of Age

Slowly, I woke up and squinted my eyes open. It was just starting to get light outside, and there was a large boob in my face. The nipple was red and swollen and inviting. I heard Chloe's soft giggle.

I opened up, wide, and I felt her breast push between my lips. I stretched around her areola and latched on, pulling her nipple toward the back of my mouth, starting the rhythmic squeezing motion. It only took a few seconds before I felt a small pool of sweet liquid gathering on my tongue. I swallowed; Chloe reacted by purring and stroking my hair. She leaned down and kissed me on my forehead.

"Good morning," she whispered. She sounded happy.

We snuggled our naked bodies closer together, and our intimacy felt real and powerful. She was quiet for a couple minutes. When I would glance up to look at her face, she always met my gaze. She seemed to enjoy watching as I fed.

At one point, I felt rustling near the end of the bed, and realized it was Doofus; he'd been sleeping with us, and had apparently decided it was time to get up.

Finally, Chloe whispered, "I had such crazy dreams. One, I was a race car driver and somehow I knew how to handle a Formula 1, and I was racing all these other guys and girls, and I won, but barely." She laughed quietly. "No idea what that's about. Oh, and you were in another one, another dream. Nothing really happened, but we were out by the lake, just taking a walk, except we were both completely naked except for our Converse. And no one noticed. Or at least, no one was acting like it was any big deal."

I broke my latch and laughed quietly. "I think if that happened in real life, you might maybe attract some attention."

"Yeah, probably. You too, really."

I started to suckle again.

"What about you? What did you dream?" she asked.

I released her areola again. "I don't remember. I never really remember my dreams. I'm not even sure if I ever have any."

"Oh, everyone dreams. We studied this in one of my classes. I guess guys don't remember them as much, though. They mentioned that. I'm not sure why." She gave a slight shrug.

I was suckling again.

After that, I don't remember anything more until I woke up again; the sun was completely up, and Chloe was gone—and I could hear the shower going in my bathroom.

I got up, put on sweats and a t-shirt, and wandered into the kitchen for coffee. My mom asked me about what Chloe wanted for breakfast, and I told her that she'd requested scrambled eggs, if at all possible.

"Good," smiled Mom. "That's what I was gonna make anyway."

I sat down at the table and messed with my phone.

"Listen, hon," my mom said, "have Chloe throw her clothes in with yours. We'll do a wash today."

"OK," I said, and I realized that my mom was completely normalizing the situation. Chloe was essentially living with us. I was absolutely 100% OK with that, but I was really happy that Mom was, too.

That evening, when the clothes were all dry, Mom rearranged some drawers in my dresser and put Chloe's stuff in a separate drawer. It was hers, now. That was a nice feeling.

---

Starting around that time, Chloe and I were effectively living together, out of my room. It happened bit by bit: she'd bring over another change of clothes, and her previous day's clothes would end up in the wash with mine again, and then she asked if she could have a little more drawer space in my dresser (of course she could).

Some toiletries appeared in my bathroom—just normal girl stuff like eyeliner, something that I think was blush, some kind of face scrub, and her toothbrush and deodorant. A bottle of pills labelled "Motilium Domperidone" started living in the medicine cabinet; "It's to help with my milk," Chloe explained. In the shower, there was some kind of plastic scrunchie thing (she called it a "loofah"), a large bottle of shampoo with a French name, shaving cream, and a pink razor. (I told her more than once that she didn't really need to shave for me, that she was so hot she could pull off any kind of body hair—she even could have made armpit hair look feminine and attractive, seriously. But she said she wanted to be able to go sleeveless in public without getting weird looks, so I should cool my jets and maybe wait to see what she looked like naked late in the winter. "I do hate shaving," she told me.)

Soon enough, she'd fully moved into my room, too. A contraption she called a "breast pump" now sat in the corner, "For if I get too engorged," she told me, although I never saw her use it. She had a couple drawers full of her clothes, with no objection from me. Her panties and bras had joined my briefs in the underwear drawer, she had a few things hanging in the closet, and the adjoining bathroom was all set up for her. My room was now our room.

I liked that very much. It felt very intimate to be living with her, especially in a small, single bedroom. Chloe practically never went back to her apartment except to pick up some more of her stuff. ("I like being here with you, and I also kind of hate my roommates," she told me.)

She usually slept in just her panties, didn't bother with a top. I thought that was awesome, because, well, I never got tired of seeing her bare breasts, much less being near them, and it made it easy for me to initiate sex around bedtime—if she didn't start it first. Often enough, it began with us lying close together, ostensibly because we were going to sleep—but then Chloe would slide around and gently push her nipple to my lips. I would breastfeed for several minutes, switching breasts sometimes, and enjoying the sensations of her milk gathering in my stomach while she clearly got more and more aroused. It was never more than a couple minutes before I'd start feeling high from her milk. Before I knew it, we were onto other things. After we both came, she would usually nurse me again, and my post-orgasmic bliss blended with the warm, full feeling of her milk in my stomach. I would feel euphoric as I fell asleep.

I will admit that the first time I watched her spreading a special cream on her nipples and all around her areolas, it seemed a little weird. ("I have to do this or I might end up sore," she explained.) I got used to the idea quickly, though. It was a nightly ritual, usually performed after she was finished breastfeeding me for the night.

One of the best parts about the new living arrangement was how cool my mom was about it. She approved of our relationship. (She again used the words "age-appropriate," since I was a good four years older than Chloe, an age difference Mom called "just big enough.") The two of them had always gotten along well, which was really nice. Honestly, the way they talked, it seemed more like they were casual friends than anything else. That seemed fortunate, because I suppose it could have been a complicated thing, since Chloe was both my girlfriend and my mom's employee. But they both took the situation in stride.

As for tending to Luna, my mom and Chloe split nighttime breastfeeding duties. Yes, it did bother me when Chloe left the bed in the middle of the night, but it was something that couldn't be helped. Besides, when she returned, sometimes we'd fuck before going back to sleep.

I wouldn't be going back to school for the next quarter for a few more weeks, and I tried not to think about that. Never in my life had I wanted so much to just stay home, never leave again, even though I knew there was no way that could happen. I had to finish my degree, and I did have friends up there.

---

It was well before high noon one day when I realized I'd probably picked a bad time to start the backyard project. My mom wanted to replace the cement patio with pavers, which in theory wasn't that big of a deal. Breaking up the old slab on a day that already promised to be scorching hot, though? Might not have been wise. I didn't want to just give up, though, not at that point, because I was already more than half done. Once I got done hauling off the cement chunks, the rest wouldn't be that hard. I just had to smooth the dirt and then start laying the pavers.

I came inside to cool off for a few minutes and get ready for round two. I wasn't wearing a shirt, and toweling off felt like a relief. I grabbed a soda and guzzled it.

When I happened to walk into the front room, I was in for a surprise. There was Chloe, sitting on the couch, topless, with her plaid schoolgirl skirt hiked up all the way to her waist. She was masturbating.

"Hey!" she called, grinning at me, shrugging. "Sorry, I'm a horny girl," she said. She seemed completely shameless about it. "Come over here, stand in front of me so I can look at you while I play. You look hot! I mean, you look overheated but also you look pretty fuckin' sexy. Stand in front of me, let me see you."

I moved toward her, almost laughing, feeling slightly ridiculous. Was I her male stripper?

Chloe continued masturbating, driving a slightly curled finger between her thick lips and into her vagina, rapidly. Her other hand had drifted up to one of her breasts, squeezing, stroking, tracing around her areola.

"Pull your pants down and jack off for me," she said. "We don't have time to fuck or anything. Luna went down a while ago and she's probably gonna wake up pretty soon. But I need to get off. So pull your pants down and jack your dick. I like to watch you."

I just shrugged internally and pulled my jean shorts and underwear off; my cock was fully erect by this point, of course.

"Oooo," Chloe purred.

I started jacking off, watching her fuck herself with her finger.

"I think I'm gonna start coming pretty soon," she informed me, somewhat breathlessly. "I've been at it for a while. But you're not allowed to come yet, not even when I come. You have to just watch me."

"OK," I nodded, also starting to breathe hard.

And within a couple more minutes, sure enough, Chloe's hips were jerking and shifting, and her skirt was dancing around the tops of her thighs. "Don't come yet, don't come," she managed to grunt. Her hips started thrusting into the air repeatedly, and she let out a quiet yelp, clamped a hand over her mouth, and kept making guttural noises as her head flopped around.

Gotta admit that it was pretty difficult not to come, watching her get off like that. It was always pretty obvious when Chloe had an orgasm, and it was always an erotic scene. The part that made it most difficult was the way she thrust her hips into the air, repeatedly, lustfully, obscenely.

After about a minute, her hips settled down, and she stopped jerking her head. She was quiet again. Her eyes opened and she smiled at me. "You didn't come, right? Good. Keep going. You can come the next time I do. Should be pretty soon. That orgasm made me really horny."

I could not fathom that idea, that an orgasm could make you hornier. An orgasm was the end of it all for me. But as a girl, she was wired in a completely different way. Orgasms represented an opening up for her, not a shutting down.

"OK," I breathed. My cock was hard as a rock, and every second it got tougher to resist blowing my load.

"I'm imagining your mouth on my boob," she breathed, "and you're suckling on me, and I can feel the milk spraying out of my nipple, and I know it's going into your mouth and you're swallowing, and it makes me so fucking horny when you do that, oh my god."

About a minute later, she was on the verge again.

"OK, OK," she said, almost gasping. "It's gonna happen again. You can come this time."

I just nodded at her. Chloe's eyes met mine, but then she drifted down to watch me work on my cock.

She let out a noise, then another one. "Oh, gawwd," she moaned. "OK, OK, come now, you can come."

"OK," I said, panting a little.

And then she grunted: "Put it in my mouth! Put it in my mouth."

I wasn't sure if she meant that I should try to shoot my come into her mouth, or put my cock inside her mouth. This wasn't a good time to ask, so I just got up onto the couch with her, standing on my knees, and I pushed the head of my dick between her lips; she took it in and started sucking on the very tip, hard.

That was all it took, of course. The big warmth spread through my groin, and then the first contraction happened. The fact that I was ejaculating into her mouth, for the first time, was a huge thrill. What made it astonishing, though, was that she was sucking the tip of my cock very, very intensely. It made it feel like she was sucking the come directly out of my balls, and the sensation was incredible. It was as though she was drawing my lifeforce out the end of my penis.

After a few spurts, I was done, completely spent. She wouldn't let my slowly softening penis free, though; she held it in her mouth so I was forced to stand over her and watch while she came. We'd both started coming at the same time, so now I was witnessing the clear difference in the length of our orgasms. Her body jerked. Her hips kept thrusting, lewdly. Her cries were muffled: "Mmmf! ... MMMMfff!" and on and on.

It was more than half a minute before she quieted and her body settled. She let my dick slip out of her mouth, and looked up at me with a salacious grin. Then, she swallowed. She'd been holding the load in her mouth the whole time she was coming.

"Mm, you're yummy," she said. "So salty."

We headed to the bathroom together. Chloe started cleaning the inside of her vulva while I dried my dick and pulled my shorts on. She brushed her teeth, then snuggled up to my bare chest.

"Mmm, you smell so man," she purred.

We kissed for a couple minutes, our bodies pressed against each other tightly.

Then she was off to tend to Luna, who had suddenly started crying, and I headed out back to start hauling cement chunks with the wheelbarrow.

My mind, though, stayed on Chloe, and what we would do together later on. We would be naked again. I was going to slide my cock back inside her body, fill her snug vagina completely. I was going to make her come again. And again. And again, as many times as I could before I blew my load into her.

After that, we would lay on our sides, very close together, and I would stretch my mouth onto her oval-round breast. I would take her milk into my body, and the two of us would float away together.

---

Once I finished moving all the broken pieces of cement to the front to get hauled away, I was finished. I was a sweaty mess and I was exhausted. The rest—smoothing the dirt and laying the pavers—could wait until the next day. So could renting a pickup to take the remains of the old patio to the dump, something I'd need to have my mom do for me, since I wasn't old enough to do it. Or maybe Chloe could rent it for me, I realized. Women only had to be 18 to do that, now.

After I showered, I went looking for Chloe, who wasn't in the front room, wasn't in our room, and wasn't in the nursery. Had she left?

I found her in my mom's room, sprawled lazily on the bed, naked except for floral panties. Her soft olive skin looked almost like it was glowing.

Chloe had Luna snuggled up close to her chest; she had one arm around the baby while her other hand held her breast—standard breastfeeding position for her. Luna's mouth was working on Chloe's nipple, and I could see her little jaw moving steadily as she fed.

I had made no noise, but somehow, Chloe sensed my presence. "Hey, Ash," she said, turning her head and smiling, her voice soft. "What's going on?"

I paused for a second before I decided to just say what I thought; Chloe was not the type who would judge my manhood just for my words. "I just think it's so beautiful you can do this."

Chloe's face brightened. "I know, right? It is beautiful. I'm so lucky I get to feed her like this." She stroked Luna's little head.

"Hey, it's probably a weird time to ask you this," I said, "but can I take you out to dinner? Tonight? Have you ever been to Piedmont?"

"I would love that," she smiled, her voice sounding especially scratchy and feminine. "I've never been there, but Olivia told me about it and said it's amazing."

"Good. It's a date, then." I could now utter that phrase to her without feeling like a complete idiot.

"One thing, though," she was saying. "Afterwards, I want to come back here and I want to lock ourselves in your room. Our room, sorry."

"Yeah, why?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Because I need some alone time with you tonight. Extended alone time."

I practically ran to go make the reservations.

---

That night at the restaurant was one of the best nights I'd had with Chloe. We talked and talked, we laughed, we enjoyed just sitting together out in public. Chloe looked beautiful, of course: she was wearing a white lace sleeveless top, very flattering on her, and a short, somewhat floofy skirt. Her outfit was dressy enough to make me excited; she'd made herself looked sophisticated and very adult, and she'd done it for me. She normally didn't use that much makeup—at least, I didn't think so—but that night, she definitely did. It was as though she had revealed herself as a refined and elegant woman; she looked so fetching it was hard for me not to just stare at her.

Me, I just had on a button-up shirt and sport jacket with jeans, which I really wasn't sure was enough compared to her—she did say she liked it, though.

The food was really good, but for me, she was the highlight. We just kept looking into each others' eyes. Under the table, she would casually rub her bare leg across my shins, and it made me really aroused.

She took particular joy in being the one to order our bottle of wine. Our waiter was an older guy, and he was kind of pompous and annoying. It didn't ruin the night or anything, but both of us thought he was goofy, and not in a good way.

"Well, ma'am, I'm sure you won't mind that I have to ask for your ID," he chortled. He was the kind of guy who clearly thought he was amusing.

Chloe just smiled at him politely and presented her driver's license.

"18 years old! Well, I do believe now that the voters of this state have spoken, 18 would be old enough to order wine tonight—for a young woman, anyway. Now you, young man, I'm gonna need to see yours, too, because as you might know, the laws are different for young men. You will need to be 21."

What a fucking goober. I showed him my license. It was like he was rubbing it in or something—yes, I knew that she could drink at 18. Jeez.

"22! Very good, sir. You are old enough. I'll be back with the bottle, shortly." And he was off.

Thankfully, we didn't see a lot of him over the course of the dinner.

That night, locked in our room, I slid my erect penis deep into her vagina, and we fucked, slowly. Both of us just wanted to stay that way for as long as possible.

After my orgasm ended sex, Chloe gave me her breast, and we fell asleep in a close embrace.

---

One morning, I woke up to a small mystery: who was Chloe talking to?

It was after 10AM. I may have still been groggy, but I could clearly hear Chloe's voice—she was avidly in conversation with someone, and I couldn't figure out with whom. My mom was already at work and no one else would be around. Yeah, Chloe would talk to Luna sometimes, but not like this, not like an adult.

The answer came when I found her in the nursery. Chloe was sitting in the rocking chair, her usual station: breasts bared, nipple and areola in the baby's mouth, baby feeding eagerly. Chloe also had her chemistry textbook in her lap, next to the baby, and she was hovering over it with a highlighter pen. And, she had her AirPods in her ears and was having an animated phone conversation with someone who turned out to be her mother.

"No, Mom, see, I don't think those look good on me. It's the sleeves, they're too billowy and it just makes me look weird."