Milk Donation

Adam was a bit confused. He couldn't see how this position was any more tempting than the bedroom, and said so.

"No? You can't see..." She sat down, lowering herself until they were synced up, her crotch pressed against the lump in his pants. The pressure of her weight sent a wave of delicious warmth through him.

"Oh," he said.

"Yes, 'oh'. As you can see, this is more comfortable for your neck, but entirely inappropriate for a mother and son to do. Unless we can promise to behave ourselves. What do you think? Can we do it?"

Her tone was serious, but the words were playful. Adam quickly nodded his head. He'd walk on lava to have his mom sit in his lap, grinding on his dick while he sucked on her tits, drinking her milk. If the earlier confessions were anything to go by, he didn't think she'd mind either.

To his regret she dismounted from him right away, and put her shirt back on. He didn't really mind, as she was still braless and he could watch them sway and bob as she moved. It was equally erotic, just in a different way.

They both went to make dinner, her pan-frying some chicken while he cut up veggies for a salad. They worked in silence, but it was comfortable, and Adam never missed an opportunity to stare at her chest.

---

Mary could feel Adam's gaze on her all through dinner prep and then while eating. She didn't mind it one bit, and contemplated going topless after the cooking was done, but didn't want to give him any ideas.

She was very serious earlier when she asked him if they could behave, and she fully intended to follow through on that. Their individual bodily responses to the suckling sessions were entirely natural and it would be silly to act as if it wasn't happening. They could help each other to relieve the tension, but that was as far as it could go.

"How's your neck?" she asked between bites.

He rolled his head around and nodded, mouth full.

"Let me know if it starts to get painful again, and I'll rub more of the cream on, okay?"

Adam had left his shirt off, to not get the cream on it, and so she had been admiring him in turn during dinner. He was nicely built, with light hair dusting his chest, and lean, toned arms. She could see how his body had changed since the last time she'd seen it. He was a man, now, with a man's strength.

She ignored the tingle of appreciation that trickled through her insides. Any attractive male body did the same thing to her; it meant nothing.

After dinner they cleaned up and then split up: she went to go watch some TV, he went to his room to do homework.

Around 8pm, her show over, Mary made her way to Adam's room to check and see if he was ready for their evening session. Her breasts quivered as she walked, and a delicious ache formed in her belly at the thought of their new arrangement.

"Hi, are you ready?" she asked from his door.

He turned from his desk, still shirtless, and nodded. "I was wondering if you could put some of the cream on my neck first?" he asked.

"Of course. Bring it along to the couch."

He did, and they set up in the same position as that afternoon. She warmed the cream up and went at it again, smoothing her hands over his skin. The same tickling tingle came through a bit stronger than the last time. She took her time, admiring and appreciating his body.

When she was done, he joined her on the couch. She did her best to ignore the lump in his pants, knowing that it was inevitable and natural. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as she got ready to mount her son again.

Adam slapped his thigh, prompting her to climb on board, and she laughed, feeling more at ease. This was fine. They'd done the suckling many times already, this was just in the light... and on his lap. She could feel his eyes on her breasts as she swung her leg over him, and then she was planted on him. The juncture of her thighs hovered over his legs, trying not to come in full contact with him, like she had earlier.

What they hadn't done earlier was any suckling, and Mary was nervous as she lifted herself up closer to him, her nipple hovering by his mouth. She was watching him from above, his eyes looking back up at her as he opened up, and she placed her teat between his lips.

The same wave of warm pleasure washed over her as he latched on and started to suck. The same gasp escaped her mouth as the pressure grew on her nipple. He closed his eyes, so she did the same, and held his head lightly, her other hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

This was good. It worked. They weren't touching crotches, no mutual genital massaging. They could get through this. As Mary was thinking this, she felt two touches, as he grabbed hold of her ass cheeks, one to each hand.

Oh, damn.

He pulled at her, bringing her closer to him, and she felt her bare belly against his bare chest. The feel of his strong hands gripping her, his skin on hers, his mouth pulling and squeezing her nipple made Mary feel wanted. Appreciated. Desired.

Her belly wasn't the only thing touching him. The already normal pool in her panties spread wet moisture on her thighs as her mons was pressed up against him. Maybe it was hopeless to think that this could be a purely platonic act of love between them. Maybe her history with Ian had primed her to associate this with sex, too much to ignore.

As she hovered over her son's lap, she quailed inside as she felt the burst of warmth that signaled her let down. The spread of aching pleasure as her milk started to flow into her son's mouth. It was too much. She cried out her rapture, the mixture of tingling tension in her groin growing from her tits to her pussy to the feel of his skin and his hands on her. How could any woman hold out against this?

This woman couldn't.

Mary came. She came and she came and she came. Pussy clenching, middle writhing, mouth gasping and drooling. Milk streamed from the breast without a mouth on it, dripping down her belly and into her PJ pants. Her son was gulping while playing with her nipple with his tongue.

She gradually calmed down, pulsing, pressed against him, his hands holding her. Then she was done. Spent. Drained of energy. Feeling her legs shaking, she had to sit down, and Adam gallantly held her up until he felt her full weight, and then let her go. She gratefully sank down onto his lap, her breast popping from his mouth with a sprinkle of milk.

Mary slumped forward, putting her head into his neck, pressing her bare, milky tits against his muscled torso. He was warm, and he put his arms around her, hugging her gently. She could still feel milk dripping from her slowly, coating them both. As she calmed down, her heart slowing gradually, Mary became aware of another pressure.

It was underneath her, and it was a totally natural, hard, rod of flesh. It was captured in underwear and pants, but it was very nice to feel pressed against her pussy after coming like she had. It wasn't quite in the right place, so she shifted a bit until it was firmly planted in the center of her, spreading her lips within her panties. Now the pressure was directly on her clit, and she tilted her hips up and down slightly, to ride the rod and the pleasure it was giving her.

Still with her head buried in his neck, naked tops still embraced, the two sat there. Mary was mostly subconsciously riding her son, and soon she was joined by another motion, as her son started his own hip rolling.

Mary moaned as the tension in her middle grew again. She rubbed her hard nipples against Adam's chest, sending tingles to join the march to orgasm number two.

Neither said a word, but it was clearly understood that this was beyond the boundary they'd set earlier. And yet, it wasn't that different from what they'd been doing in her bedroom, was it? With the exception that he was no longer suckling at her breasts.

Mary's cheek was against his jawline, and she noticed that he must have shaven very recently, as he was smooth there. She rubbed her cheek against his, enjoying his skin on hers in so many places. In fact, his neck was right there, wasn't it? She could smell the cream she'd put on the back of his neck, but the front was clean.

Tempted beyond her ability to resist, she lifted her mouth and nipped lightly at his neck, tasting him. She felt his hands grip her ass cheeks harder in response, so she did it again, opening her lips and sucking at his flesh for once. He groaned beneath her, the rumble vibrating her chest and her mouth. She giggled and swooped under his chin, nibbling along his jawline, one hand cupping the opposite side of his neck to keep him in place. He groaned louder, angling his head away to give her room.

The motion of their hips had been growing, and now she was running her crotch full-length along the lump in his pants, helped by his hands. The milk had lubricated their skin, and she was able to easily rub her breasts up and down his chest, their nipples grazing occasionally, sending spikes to her puss.

Mary wanted... something. She knew what it was, but she wasn't going to go there, not even to name her desire. Not with her son. So she settled for writhing in his lap, the tension building in her with each movement.

Would he? Could he? The thought of her son spilling his seed in his underwear because she was in his lap thrilled the naughty mother, spurring her to new efforts. Her hands started to roam over his torso, his shoulders, his chest, his pecs. He was still holding her ass, pulling her to him over and over. She let one hand trail over his biceps and felt them tense and pull with each contraction, exciting her further. Her other hand drifted down to his stomach, stroking his skin and tense muscles. Up again, and she found his nipple, which she accidently caught under a fingernail.

"Gah!" he gasped at her touch.

"Oh?" she murmured into his neck, stopping her nibbles. "Is someone as sensitive as his Mommy?" She flicked his nipple again, on purpose, and he jerked once.

"Please," he groaned, and she pulled at it, and then she was rewarded by the feel of him pushing up into her, harder than before. The added pressure surprised her, and then he was rhythmically thrusting up into her gaping cloth-covered pussy, his orgasm sending reams of his cum into his underwear. The new, harder, rhythm sent her over the edge, and she came with him.

Mary grinned in triumph at having made him come, while her body quivered and clenched on top of him. She nipped one final time, hard, on his neck, while she was riding out her climax on her son's lap. When she was done, she once again slumped down on his chest, drained in one way if not another.

Her breasts still contained milk in them, despite their best efforts at auto-expressing them via orgasm. Knowing that they needed to keep progress going, she lifted up and pulled his head from the back of the couch to her breast. He immediately latched on and started to suckle at her.

They stayed like that, her on him, his lap considerably less lumpy, as he drank away her milk from each breast. When he was done, she got up and pulled her shirt back on, feeling happy and satiated. Intentions were one thing; blazing orgasms were another.

Mary bid her son goodnight, as they both made their way to their rooms. She fell asleep quickly, content in the fact that she'd helped her son get a restful slumber by sending him to bed with a belly full of warm milk.

***

Adam woke feeling as rested as he ever had. He rolled onto his back, memories of the night before flooding his head. The feel of his mother's breasts on his chest, her mouth on his neck, her crotch on his dick. And the milk. That sweet, creamy goodness. He'd never get tired of it, he was sure.

He experimentally stretched his neck, checking for stiffness or soreness, but it felt fine. In fact, all of him felt fine. He jumped up out of bed, ready to start his day. He had changed into fresh boxers last night, so he wore them to go shower. As he went down the hallway to the bathroom, he stopped to listen at his mom's door. Nothing. When he got to the bathroom, he found out why. The door was closed and he could hear the shower running.

They rarely interfered with each other's schedule this way, as they got up at different times, but of course lately they'd been synced up due to the inducing sessions. Adam went to the kitchen to put on some coffee.

He stood there, lost in thought, watching the coffee dribble into the carafe, hard cock at attention in his boxers.

Adam had never been in a situation like he'd been in last night. So turned on that it almost hurt, being stimulated in so many ways, and yet frustrated because he just wanted a release. The feeling of being pent up, wound up, a hair trigger away from climax, but not able to reach it. Thankfully he had come, or he'd have ended up with the worst case of blue balls ever.

Jimmy and Jake liked to talk tough about what they'd do to each other's moms but it was just talk. Adam had gotten closer than either of them to actual sex, and it happened to be with his own mom. Granted, it was over-the-clothes grinding, so none of his friends would count it as getting laid.

Adam had never had sex before, so he couldn't imagine it. How it would feel to sink his cock into a real, live vagina. Would it be great? Mind-blowing? As good as a handjob? He had no clue. He didn't expect to achieve it any time soon, as all of the girls in his school were either dating, not interested, or not interesting. Last night felt like what he imagined sex to be like. High arousal, very intimate, and worth repeating.

His thoughts were disturbed by his mom entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Hon. How was your sleep?" she asked, bustling around and pouring herself a coffee.

"Better than I can remember in a while," he said. "Thanks to you, I think."

"Aw. I slept well too. Sometimes it's good to go to bed early, eh?"

Adam shook his head. She knew he was referring to the couch session, and still insisted on being a complete dork. Moms. "You seem to be in a bit of a hurry. Something come up?' he asked.

"Yeah, there's a bit of an emergency at work; I have to head in right away. We'll have to skip our morning session."

Hiding his disappointment, he said, "It seems like you're on your way to being a top milk producer again. I doubt missing one morning will make any difference."

His mom paused her bustling and walked over to give him a hug. "If I get back to being a 'top milk producer', it'll be because of your help, so thank you."

He hugged back tight, hyper-aware of her body pressed against him.

"Hon?" she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"You should take care of your... issue, before you go to school."

Somehow Adam completely missed what she was talking about. "Issue?"

"The 'issue' poking me in the belly."

"Oh!" Adam said, pulling away, cheeks and ears burning red hot. "Sorry."

"S'okay," she said with an understanding smile. "Have a good day at school. Love you."

"Love you too," he murmured as she left for work. He absent-mindedly pushed on his hardon, relishing the answering pulse of pleasure that spread out from his core.

Great, what was he supposed to do now?

The horny teenager sighed and headed to his room to watch some lactation porn before school.

***

Mary went and got a latte, and sat and sipped it slowly. She felt guilty for lying to Adam about her work emergency, but felt like she needed this time to just sit and think. If they'd had their morning session, she felt sure they'd have picked up right where they left off last night. Based on his 'issue', he was on the same page.

The help he was providing was leaking over to something else, and while she wasn't blind to the progression, that wasn't the same thing as being comfortable with it. The problem was that, try as she might, she was really bad at maintaining her own boundaries. It just felt natural to do things like kiss his neck, or grind on his lap, or stroke his cock in the heat of the moment.

Truly, the times when they were locked mouth to tit drove her to distraction. She wanted to feel more of him, to give more of her love, to be as close as any two people could be. Her impulses were to touch, and taste, and feel all of him, and so went with it. She knew it would keep happening, because it felt too fucking good not to.

So what now? Just keep on going, ignore what her head advised, and go with what her body needed? Her heart desired? What about Adam? What about his needs and desires? Was he truly okay with what they were doing? Had he put any thought into repercussions?

Where were they headed? Mary's brain shied away from the thought at first, but she forced it to the fore, exposing it to the light of full examination. If they kept up as they were, she was going to fuck him. The thought slithered away, motherly instincts recoiling, but her inner lizard brain spoke up from the depths:

I want this

She shuddered, not able to deny it. It was the last thing she'd ever admit to anyone, but it was there.

What now? They had to continue the sessions in order to ramp up her production beyond a few mouthfuls. She knew that if they continued, she would be tempted to do more; to touch and stroke and kiss and... and, just, more, hissed the lizard.

It would be so easy to just go along, ignore reality, and hope it all worked out. The hard path was to take a step back, use the pump, and put distance between her and Adam. Now that she had gotten started along the lactation path, the pump must be able to get her across the finish line. Right?

Feeling a pang of sadness, Mary determined that was the best course. Avoid temptation and steer them both away from certain trouble.

Taking a sip of her now lukewarm latte, she left the shop, doing her best to ignore the damp feeling in her panties.

A quick pump at work reminded Mary of how impersonal and dehumanizing it was, however she was happy to see that there were some rewards, as she got a few millimeters of milk at the bottom of the bottles. Thankfully there was a lot less pain after the pumping was done, probably because there was actually something to pump out now.

Another session at noon, and by the time Mary was headed home she had wrapped her head around the new reality that her special bonding times with Adam were over. Now it was time to let him know. Gently.

The pump bag in one hand, her work bag in the other, she entered the house and listened. Adam's shoes weren't there, and no sound in the house. She plopped the bags down and checked his room. Not there. He also wasn't waiting in her room, which she had dreaded might happen. Especially after she had skipped this morning's session.

Happy to have the house to herself, she went about changing into comfy, but chaste, clothes, including a padded bra. If she was lactating, she could leak. Her quiet time was cut short when Adam bounced into the house 20 minutes later, out of breath.

"Sorry I'm late," he huffed. "I had to finish up at school and rushed home as soon as I could."

Mary smiled sadly at his efforts. "Put your stuff down, come talk to me," she said, patting the couch - but not near her.

He did so, looking wary, and for good reason.

"Listen, I gave our sessions some thought, and I think we've gone a bit over the line. You know? I'm your mother, and we should be doing things with a mother/son level of intimacy. So, I've decided to go back to the pump to finish off the regime." She paused, and when he didn't say anything, she finished with, "Thank you for your help, I am sure I couldn't have gotten where I am without you. I've got it from here."

Mary sat and watched her son silently go through the stages of grief, written large on his face. If it had been anyone else, she'd have found it funny. As it was, she just felt sympathy. She'd gone through a similar progression after making her decision.