Pink - Speak to Me

He settled the baby in for the night before making sure I was comfortable. He reached me an alarm button, should I need him during the night and he kissed my cheek, saying goodnight.

I lay there for a good 2 hours before Anna started crying. Charlie was in like a shot, lifted her to my bed where we cuddle together. "I think she's hungry again, she didn't really have much earlier," I say, unbuttoning my shirt as Charlie goes to break our cuddling. "No, stay," I ask, enjoying both my kids by my side as Charlie, again, supports little Anna as she feeds.

"What does it feel like, Mum?" He asks.

"The most wonderful experience in the world, son. I'm so sorry I didn't have this time with you, son."

He smiles and gently strokes Anna's face, saying, "Don't worry Mum, I'm big and strong," flexing his scrawny arm and making us both laugh. He then asks, "Does this mean you don't need to express how?

I catch his gaze and tell him, "Hmmmmm, she'll not drink nearly enough. I'll still be quite full I think."

I can tell he's mulling something over as he looks at Anna, and looking me in the eye, he asks, "Mum, if you need my help......."

"Thank you son," I interject,"But I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable. You'd be so embarrassed, having to squeeze my boob into a container."

"Yeah, though......there is another way, Mum," he shyly breathes, unable to look at me.

I'm about to answer, when Anna finished and drools milk all down my front and onto my top. Charlie leaps up and fetches a towel, lifting Anna up to wind her as I wipe the spillage. About 15 minutes later, Anna is down to sleep and I'm reasonably clean, but my top is going to stink so I take it off, covering myself with the bedsheets.

Charlie is saying goodnight to Anna, then turns to me and asks if I'm OK.

"Yeah, I just got milk on my top. Can you put it in the laundry basket?"

"Do you need me to get another top?" He asks.

"Yeah, please. In case I.....never mind," I reply, not wanting to broadcast that my tits are leaking.

"Mum are you ok?" He asks as he approaches with a new top.

"I'm.......I'm so full, son. Would your.....offer still s-stand?" I nervously ask, as Charlie looks at me with eyes bulging in shock.

"What do you want me to do, Mum?" He asks, as I pull the sheets open on the other side of the bed and he nervously climbs in, sitting against the headboard with arms down.

"Are you sure you're OK with this, Son?" I hiss with fear of freaking him out and he just nods, maintaining his gaze with mine. "Come, lie across me, like Anna does," I add as he lifts the sheets, takes a long look at my swollen breasts before he lies across my lap.

My breath breaks as my son's lips gently surround my right nipple and sucks gently. "Charlie," I breathe and he looks up at me, breaking the seal before I advise, "Babies suction is about 5 times greater than that, it's ok if it's too weird though."

He says nothing, but gently lifts my right breast in his trembling hand, hefting my heavy mound. As my bra size is now up from 32D to 34F, it doesn't all for into his hand as he closes his lips to my swollen nipple again.

He sucks, and unlike the first time, he really sucks in my bullet-hard nipple so hard, that a high-pitched "HUH," escapes my mouth.

He releases immediately and asks, "Did I do it wrong, Mum?"

"Oh no, Baby. Mum was just a bit surprised," I reassure him, stroking his head as he returns his lips to my nub.

I continue to stroke his hair as he tentatively latches on again, he lightly squeezes my breast, adjusting the position of the nipple, and as he suckles, I feel the amazing sensation of milk, flowing from mother to her baby. To clarify, this is not a sexual act, as I stroke my baby's hair as he sucks and sucks, with even greater force than Anna.

"Oh my bestest boy," I coo, stroking his hair as I cradle his head, watching my breast throb and move where it meets his mouth. I then ask, "Can you change over now, son?" And he breaks off, before repositioning himself, just under my left breast. "Not as much needed from this one, Anna has taken care of most of it."

He takes my nipple into his mouth gently, I'm sure I feel his tongue swirl around my aureola, and then he's sucking me in like a baby. I whimper again, but this time he doesn't stop as I hear him gulping his Mum's milk. "Oh that's a good son, Mummy loves you so much," I say, still stroking his hair as he seems to increase his suckling.

Suddenly, he moans into my teat, and at the same time his body goes stiff and he stretches his legs out. He increases further, his suction on my breast, and now with my entire aureola being vacuum sealed within his hungry mouth, I feel his entire body pulse 3-4-5 times before me buries his face into my breasts.

"It's ok baby, you're just nervous about helping Mummy," I say, looking down and holding his head as he leans his forehead against me, just above my breasts.

"Mum.....I'm so sorry," he cries, still breathless.

"Ssshhhhh, my hero doesn't apologise to me," I breathe into his hair.

"But Mum, I.....I, god I'm so ashamed!" He said, still shielding his eyes from me.

"Ssshhhh, it'll be our secret, you're just helping your Mummy out, son. I love you so much," I say, forcing his head up to look at me before he exits the bed and leaves the room after wishing me goodnight.

Morning comes, and we set about getting Anna ready for the day. Charlie helps me feed her, again back to refusing to look at me or her while she's latched to my breast. I know he's so embarrassed about last night, but what 20 year old boy hasn't had that sort of thing happen them!

Today is the first day of my hydrotherapy, arranged by my wonderful son, through my former personal trainer. Charlie leaves us to it for the 2 hours, and takes Anna to the nearest town to buy some necessities, not least, a breast pump.

My session is very rewarding, the water making me feel weightless as I stretch and move my limbs. Ona, the therapist, says by the way I'm moving, she should have me walking on my own within 2 months.

Charlie arrives back, just as we're finished and helps me out of the pool via the hoist he's had fitted. And then we have the next hurdle. Getting my bathing suit on had been handled by Ona, but Charlie would have to help me get it off, and help me shower.

Anna is asleep in her crib, so we enter the bathroom and he says, "This isn't going to do much for your modesty, how do we go about it?"

I see he's nervous, and still ashamed of himself from the night before. "It's ok, son. I trust you, you're my hero," I say, looking him in the eye as I lower the straps of my one piece same add, "If I stand up from the shower chair, you can slip it down and off. I'm so sorry you have to do this!"

"It's ok, Mum. I just......you know, last night was embarrassing."

"Charlie, you're my son, it's not going to be a problem for me. You reacted the way any man could. I know you're a perfect gentleman.

I stand up and brace myself against the wall and grab rail and he lowers my straps down, helping me slip my arms out, I feel the wet material clinging to my bosom as he stands behind me, takes both straps in his hands and lowers my swimsuit to my tummy. Now kneeling down, he lowers it the rest of the way, and off. I know he's now eye-level with my bum as he quickly stands up with the garment in his hand. He leaves, presumably to drop it in the laundry and comes back in minus his t-shirt, and turns the shower on.

I can hear the water, but as he's standing behind me I don't see what he's doing. I'm focusing on keeping my balance, holding onto the rail like a life-raft. He brings the shower head to my hair and allows the water to soak my stands, now long, down my back and light brown, with some grey peeping through. He takes some shampoo and rubs it through his hands before he gently begins to massage it into my hair, his gentle touch feeling like the greatest scalp massage as I feel a moan escape my mouth. "Mum, are you ok?" He nervously asks.

I compose myself and say, "Yes, son. You've missed your calling in life," I smile, looking back at him as he massages my long curls down my back before rinsing it off. Then, he takes a flannel, squirts some body wash on it and washes my shoulders, down my back, lightly over my bum and down my right leg. He moves to the other leg, starting with my foot, up past my knee, onto my thigh, and he continues on up to my bum again.

We both know what has to come next and he says in a shaky voice, "Mum.......take my hand," and he helps me turn around to face him.

He keeps his gaze locked firmly to mine as my breasts graze his hands as he holds mine between us. I let go of one hand and place it behind me on the grab rail, then the other. He's still locked into my gaze, almost terrified to look down as he takes the flannel cloth again and washes the tips of my shoulders again. I know he's stalling, and I say to him, "It's ok, son. It's ok," as he takes a deep breath and proceeds to my chest.

I feel the flannel glide across my upper chest, then down to the top of my right breast, then the left. He continues down to the lower part of my right breast and I hear him holding his breath. "It's ok, son," I reassure him and he continues to wash my entire breast and nervously erect,dark red nipple and my breathing breaks into little stutters as he switches to the other nipple and fleshy, ridiculously big mound.

Then he continues down to my tummy, and I know he can feel my breasts against the top of his hand as he washes underneath my boobs, now badly failing the pencil test in their heavy, lactating form.

Down over my tummy he goes, gently washing me before he stops. "Mum, do you want to do this bit?" He asks.

"Only if it's too weird, I can sit down and try. But I trust you with my life, son," I say, holding his arm in my hand before grabbing the rail behind my back again. I feel the flannel lowering to my pubic thatch and manage to separate my legs to give him access between my soapy thighs. He glares into my eyes as his hand moves the cloth down over my vagina, making me whimper as it slips between my folds. I'm trying to hide my nervousness for the sake of my son as he gently wipes and rubs me clean, the sound of hair being rustled is quite the embarrassment for any woman.

He finishes with the flannel cloth and rinses it, before rinsing me with the shower head and then sits me down on the shower seat. It's at this point that I see the tent in the front of his shorts, and even for his mother, it's quite a large staff.

I dry myself as he wheels me to my bed side where he helps me dry my back, then dress me in our now normal way, him behind me. He moves in close to me as I sit facing away from him on the bed for him to fasten my bra and I feel his erection touch my back before he jerks his hips back away. He lowers a blouse over me, already pre-buttoned for convenience, before coming round in front of me, and runs my panties and pyjama bottoms up my leg to my knees as I sit. "Let's get you up," he says and pulls me to my feet and my bottoms and panties fall to the floor. He kneels down in front of my standing body as I lean on his shoulders as he shimmies my panties up first. He's now level with my naked, hairy vagina and I hear him breathe deeply. 'God, I hope he can't smell my nervous arousal!' I think. He then continues and secures my pyjama bottoms over my hips.

"Thank you, son," I say, hugging him where we stand and I feel him trying to pull his erection away from my crotch. I look him in the eye and breathe, "It's ok, it's a natural reaction in a fucked up scenario," and kiss him on the cheek. He helps me feed Anna later, before I express some milk for the evening and morning feeds.

We continue this routine for a week, and quickly get into a rhythm of process. I'm doing so well until I fall, embarrassingly trying to shave my armpits and vagina in the bathroom. The moment of realisation that I couldn't get up, having to use the panic alarm, will be emblazoned on my mind for some time, as my son appears in the bathroom to pick me up. Back to being lifted and carried we go as I'm so sore, setting my rehabilitation back about 2 weeks. I can tell Charlie is angry at me, but he just gets on with things.

Unfortunately this means I can't stand to be showered. So I sit on the shower seat while my son scrubs me. Standing behind me, after washing my hair, he runs the flannel over my shoulders, leans me forward and washes down my back. Then he rubs it down my front, soaping up my breasts and tummy. He positions me so I'm right at the edge of the shower seat and sits on his knees before me as he soaps down my left leg, then up my right leg and in towards my inner upper thighs. He looks into my eyes and I shuffle about, spreading my legs to allow him to run the flannel cloth in between. He takes such gentle care as he gently rubs my folds and as he stands to get the shower head, his impressive erection is standing proud. 'It's only a natural reaction,' I tell myself as it comes near my face as he stretches across me.

He rinses me off but he hasn't finished. He reaches up to the shelf and lifts some shaving gel down. "You might want to apply this yourself," he says and hands me the bottle.

I take it from him and, nervously looking him in the eye, I say, "You don't have to do this," as this is a totally different thing to ask of him.

"It needs doing, you're uncomfortable," he states and I spread my legs on the shower seat and apply the gel to my vagina.

Searching my eyes for assurance as he sits between my legs. He sets his hand on my thigh and spreads me further apart as he brings the razor blade down my mound. He's holding his breath as after rinsing the blade, he gently does another sweep over me. I had managed to trim most of it but fell before I could shave it clean.

I feel his fingers press into my lips as he makes the skin down the side tighter, to allow him to shave my entire area, and I whimper, saying, "Charlie!"

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, his voice crackling with nerves.

"No, son. Mummy's very sensitive down there," I reply, almost collapsing under the enormity of my son touching my intimate area.

"I'm nearly finished, just the other side.....to do," he sighs, not taking his eyes from between my legs as I feel him tensing the skin with his fingers, before he sweeps the blade cleanly along the edge of my lips.

He stands up, and again I see his tenting shorts, sticking out as he reaches for the shaving gel. He squirts some into his fingers and he breathes, "I just missed one bit," as he runs his fingers just over the top of my clit, where my Piper tattoo is.

"Charlie, you don't have to," I say, before the gentle grazing of my protruding clitoris takes the words from my mouth. He lifts the blade again and, similar to the previous gesture to make my skin tought, he presses into my mound at my clitoral hood and gently rubs the blade clean over. Then he takes a towel and wipes me clean before standing up, not trying to hide his erection.

"Would you like to moisturise yourself?" He asks, handing me the bottle before, too afraid to talk, I shake my head and hand him it back.

Standing over me, he applies a liberal load of cream to his hands. He starts at my shoulders, rubbing and massaging me as I groan at the soothing sensations before he runs his hands down my arms.

Creaming his hands up again, he reaches forward to my chest, massaging my upper area thoroughly, before his hands dip downward. I feel his hands glide over my upper breasts, his hands moulding to the curves as they rise. He moves his hands up and down, over the area already covered, before he draws a beautiful whimper from me, as he takes the heft of my right breast in both hands and rubs it over and over, taking extra time to thumb my nipple. Her stares in my eyes as he reaches for the moisturiser, is he seeking approval?

I nod my head and he runs his hands over my left breast, in the same way as he did the other. I know my nipples are like bullets now, and there is no denying now that the reason he is thumbing then, is not for skin maintenance.

Down over my tummy he goes, over my thighs and down my leg before coming back up. He takes more moisturiser and rubs his fingers into my mound, swirling them around, down the sides of my lips as he uses his thumbs to apply the cream. Then he's on my hood, and my body jerks. He looks up at me and I pant, "Charlie," as he rubs across my clit in circles as my breathing breaks. He keeps going, strumming me, caressing me in the guise of moisturisation, until I feel an almost forgotten sensation from deep within me. I grab his free hand and again breathe, "Charlie," as I tremor in small waves of orgasm, holding onto him as I ride out my waves of pleasure, adding, "We must stop.".

As clarity envelopes us, he stands up from his kneeling position and I see his boxers strain to hold the python beneath. "We need to feed Anna," I pant, reminding him that we're not alone here.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I got caught in the moment," he says, unable to look me in the eye as he stands behind me, wheeling me to the bedroom where he helps me into my night wear, in the tried and tested, clinical way.

Things return to our normal routine for a number of days. Wake up > Charlie bottle feeds baby, and also feeds ourselves > Hydrotherapy > shower > feed baby > express milk > bed. Obviously, extra activities are around these ones, like talking to Mum and other times of breast feeding, where Charlie still helps. We get on so well that he cancels the failed carers.

I'm very tearful on 2nd July, the anniversary of Live 8 when Adam and I got together. Charlie has did the maths and must know the significance, as he's extra tentative that weekend, making me a nice dinner and taking Anna and I out for a day of fresh air, and change of scenery.

That evening, having fed Anna, showered and changed for bed, he brings me the breast pump, for any midnight and morning feeds, also to reduce my excess milk and swollen breasts. He's about to leave when I say, "Don't leave me," and he stops in the doorway with his head on the frame.

I turn the sheets up, offering him entrance to the bed, and he slowly walks towards me, stripping his t-shirt off and slipping in beside me. "Can you do it tonight.....like last time?" I say, nerves hammering my senses as he looks at me, moves across me and I cradle his head in my arms, lowering my heavy right breast to my son's lips.

He suckles like a baby, as I see the indent at the nipple and hear every gulp as he drinks. I can feel a great heat, rippling over my body in waves and ask him to switch over. He switched and I feed him my heavy left breast, grazing the rock hard, protruding nipple over his lips before he latches on, and sucks hard and Icry out. Hearing this and sensing my breathing change, he flicks my nipple with his tongue, forcing a howl from me like I'm on fire. This time, he doesn't ask if I'm OK, but increases the suction and pulls more of my milky mound into him, as I feel the stream of fluid continue.

I look to my left, where this body is turned into me as he lies across me, and see his enormous erection beneath his shorts. Every fibre of my being tells me not to do what I do next, as while he sucks my breast with vigour, I slide my hand down his naked torso, and under the hem of his shorts, causing him to bring his suckling to a halt. "Oh Mum," he almost weeps, as my small hand finds the impossibly thick piece is meat beneath the shorts.

Unable fully grip him, I start to slowly move the skin over the bulging pole attached to my son. He resumes sucking my breast, hard. With his other hand, he cups my right boob and squeezes it in his grasp. He tweaks my right nipple while still vacuum sealing my left in his mouth, the milk from my right nipple covering his fingers while he drinks from the other and the warm waves rippling my body explode and I writhe in orgasm as he still keeps up his sensual assault.