Continuing with my mother's story, after my birth, in that subsequent period commonly defined as 'quarantine', it was very complex for her. Her hormonal, physical, and emotional changes clashed with each other. Her breasts filled with vital lactating food, which was something I believe conditioned me for the rest of my days. Her soft and swollen breasts overflowed their container, and poured out their contents, with the fragile touch of my father's fingers.
A pesar of what my mother used to say, that I was a 'momma's boy', I couldn't empty her dairy stock... And it wasn't just that incident that brought me troubles, but I lived it as unpleasant, unhygienic, and dripping with maternal milk all over the house, staining her clothes anywhere inside or outside, when like every homemaker, she did the chores and errands around the neighborhood.
All the neighbors murmured, or at least she thought so, She felt, not only observed, but also subjugated by the chusmas, mainly women, men did it too, but from another place, that is to say, with other connotations, fundamentally more lustful, related to the erotic, with the morbidness that my young mother generated in them.
In secret, in the privacy of our home, she would walk around naked, which eventually became a habit later on, not only hers but also years later, my sister's. As a routine, before leaving the house for my domestic chores, I would breastfeed until I felt suffocated, I didn't want or couldn't take it anymore, I would gag. Then she would squeeze her pink nipples, those of her white, smooth, extremely pale breasts, and pour out the liquid after my drinking.
Mom, I had closed off my sex life with my father, barely any remnants of traditional belly left, now, after giving birth, my father was desperate to resume it. My mother had suffered a decline in libido during her pregnancy, but now she began to recover her desire and entered heat like an animal, however, until that moment, all her sexual and affective energy directed towards me, the newborn, in a perfect mutual love relationship.
Mum began to masturbate and lactate during orgasm, a reflex of ejaculation with cum discharge, felt sexual pleasure while breastfeeding, tried to repress herself but didn't have the necessary willpower. However, it's not worth losing sight of the fact that breastfeeding, like pregnancy, is part of the women's sexual and reproductive cycle, and the hormonal dance that occurs when the baby sucks on its mother's nipple can trigger physical sensations of pleasure. It wasn't surprising that this was so. After all, nature has always ensured that all activities essential for maintaining life (eating, reproducing, sleeping) are extremely pleasurable. Breastfeeding is no exception, and under normal conditions breastfeeding is a very pleasant experience for both mother and child. @my mother, by the way, could even experience more intense sensations or sexual excitement. She enjoyed those moments without fearNever
My mother needed immediate intercourse, breastfeeding affected her, producing physiological responses such as the erection of her nipples, dilation of the mammary venous tract, increased breast temperature and uterine contractions, which were unbearable for her. She also felt clitoral sensations and increased vaginal lubrication when I was being breastfed. Sexual excitement caused her to leak milk through her nipples in equal amounts to what I could consume with suction. The sexual stimulus was so intense that the release of breastmilk was similar to the response after intercourse.
That made her remember the times of her family home in the northern province where she was born, and all the incestuous relationships with her brothers, from which her husband, my father, had rescued her. However, in this postpartum context, surrounded by or conditioned by a set of circumstances, it was a fact that she missed them. She remembered with enthusiasm and excitement the chores and effort with which her brothers taught her out of interest or flattery, as if performing an ancient activity, being a prostitute in a town.
So it was that despite all his love for me, he accepted betraying me and returning with my father to have marital relations. He returned to carnal activity with him, sensual, driven by the instinctive impulse that leads to satisfying desires or needs, with desire, with his intact sexual appetite. He flirted with him, naked, tried to please someone else, using certain means and studied attitudes, although without fully surrendering herself.
I had been planning it while removing the wax from her nipples, I was going to maintain a superficial romantic relationship without any commitment, at least she understood it that way and had it very clear. Although I didn't tell my father about it or hint at it at that moment, this would happen much later in life for all of us, for our family, but I won't get ahead of myself...
He sharpened his senses to capture her attention, stimulated his image so she could perceive it better and in more detail, his jewel, that one so denied to him lately. My father took a second to get excited and have an erection when he saw my mother like that. She smiled at him and approached him, lifted her shirt and let him support his cock between her breasts.
Slowly, although very nervous, as the situation was unfolding, he took off her sweater and my mother remained exposed, with one breast outside her corset, which seduced him even more. Anyway, she breathed and tried to calm down, inside herself, she feared she couldn't contain herself and would cum quickly and precociously, barely after being penetrated..
My father took his time, played with her, with her lactating nipples, even with the taste of maternal cum, which I had previously savored, and he, savoring the vital elixir, like an alchemist's panacea, cured his wounds, remedied his abstinence, as a solution capable of solving or fixing everything.
He had feared for the future of his marriage with my mother, and it seemed to be settling down; his doubts dissipated in her marvelous body. The set of events or circumstances that complicated the relationship and the achievement of some genital approach, came to an end.
Sucked all his erogenous zones, felt in essence his comfort, savored his taste, smelled his perfume, that aromatic liquid flowing from his vagina and thickening due to the action of air on contact with his vulva and lips, relieved his wound with that soreness, the one of my mother's pussy.
He sodomized his wife's anus with his skilled tongue, restless and curious. He served zealously, too much to get only one thing, her sex or to flatter someone, my mother, who had been distant from him.
He relaxed and stopped blaming her, didn't reprimand her for her behavior during that long period of pregnancy, left aside the charges and accusations, his instrument in the form of a stick took care of whipping, as a punishment by expelling semen.
She, my mother, also responded adequately, returned to being the one of old, that one who drove him crazy with pleasure, fell in love and got married, in that distant northern province, then bringing her along with him to the city.
My mother knew that he liked blowjobs, and she went down on him, something she wasn't very inclined to do, considering it almost like a humiliation, however, she was turned on, that passionate feeling had been rekindled in her. And she entered into a process known to her, where her unbridled behavior increased uncontrollably and progressively, like a spiral.
He sat on her husband's phallus while my father was nibbling at her nipple, let herself be carried away, wrapped in fluids, feeling like she was breaking or cutting off, her genitals had turned into fertile land, virgin, unplowed. The groove, the one from his fissure where that gash passed, reminded her of the sound to reproduction.
It was like a sign that remained deeply etched on his body, his eyebrows furrowed, my father noticed that wrinkle on his face, both of them took it as an omen, anticipating with a sign a future process.
The sign was true, my mother got pregnant again, my future sister, who would give me so many satisfactions, conceived that day, barely I left there. That ended with my parents' marriage, not formally, as they continued together as spouses, but in fact, they never had sex again...
A pesar of what my mother used to say, that I was a 'momma's boy', I couldn't empty her dairy stock... And it wasn't just that incident that brought me troubles, but I lived it as unpleasant, unhygienic, and dripping with maternal milk all over the house, staining her clothes anywhere inside or outside, when like every homemaker, she did the chores and errands around the neighborhood.
All the neighbors murmured, or at least she thought so, She felt, not only observed, but also subjugated by the chusmas, mainly women, men did it too, but from another place, that is to say, with other connotations, fundamentally more lustful, related to the erotic, with the morbidness that my young mother generated in them.
In secret, in the privacy of our home, she would walk around naked, which eventually became a habit later on, not only hers but also years later, my sister's. As a routine, before leaving the house for my domestic chores, I would breastfeed until I felt suffocated, I didn't want or couldn't take it anymore, I would gag. Then she would squeeze her pink nipples, those of her white, smooth, extremely pale breasts, and pour out the liquid after my drinking.
Mom, I had closed off my sex life with my father, barely any remnants of traditional belly left, now, after giving birth, my father was desperate to resume it. My mother had suffered a decline in libido during her pregnancy, but now she began to recover her desire and entered heat like an animal, however, until that moment, all her sexual and affective energy directed towards me, the newborn, in a perfect mutual love relationship.
Mum began to masturbate and lactate during orgasm, a reflex of ejaculation with cum discharge, felt sexual pleasure while breastfeeding, tried to repress herself but didn't have the necessary willpower. However, it's not worth losing sight of the fact that breastfeeding, like pregnancy, is part of the women's sexual and reproductive cycle, and the hormonal dance that occurs when the baby sucks on its mother's nipple can trigger physical sensations of pleasure. It wasn't surprising that this was so. After all, nature has always ensured that all activities essential for maintaining life (eating, reproducing, sleeping) are extremely pleasurable. Breastfeeding is no exception, and under normal conditions breastfeeding is a very pleasant experience for both mother and child. @my mother, by the way, could even experience more intense sensations or sexual excitement. She enjoyed those moments without fearNever
My mother needed immediate intercourse, breastfeeding affected her, producing physiological responses such as the erection of her nipples, dilation of the mammary venous tract, increased breast temperature and uterine contractions, which were unbearable for her. She also felt clitoral sensations and increased vaginal lubrication when I was being breastfed. Sexual excitement caused her to leak milk through her nipples in equal amounts to what I could consume with suction. The sexual stimulus was so intense that the release of breastmilk was similar to the response after intercourse.
That made her remember the times of her family home in the northern province where she was born, and all the incestuous relationships with her brothers, from which her husband, my father, had rescued her. However, in this postpartum context, surrounded by or conditioned by a set of circumstances, it was a fact that she missed them. She remembered with enthusiasm and excitement the chores and effort with which her brothers taught her out of interest or flattery, as if performing an ancient activity, being a prostitute in a town.
So it was that despite all his love for me, he accepted betraying me and returning with my father to have marital relations. He returned to carnal activity with him, sensual, driven by the instinctive impulse that leads to satisfying desires or needs, with desire, with his intact sexual appetite. He flirted with him, naked, tried to please someone else, using certain means and studied attitudes, although without fully surrendering herself.
I had been planning it while removing the wax from her nipples, I was going to maintain a superficial romantic relationship without any commitment, at least she understood it that way and had it very clear. Although I didn't tell my father about it or hint at it at that moment, this would happen much later in life for all of us, for our family, but I won't get ahead of myself...
He sharpened his senses to capture her attention, stimulated his image so she could perceive it better and in more detail, his jewel, that one so denied to him lately. My father took a second to get excited and have an erection when he saw my mother like that. She smiled at him and approached him, lifted her shirt and let him support his cock between her breasts.
Slowly, although very nervous, as the situation was unfolding, he took off her sweater and my mother remained exposed, with one breast outside her corset, which seduced him even more. Anyway, she breathed and tried to calm down, inside herself, she feared she couldn't contain herself and would cum quickly and precociously, barely after being penetrated..
My father took his time, played with her, with her lactating nipples, even with the taste of maternal cum, which I had previously savored, and he, savoring the vital elixir, like an alchemist's panacea, cured his wounds, remedied his abstinence, as a solution capable of solving or fixing everything.
He had feared for the future of his marriage with my mother, and it seemed to be settling down; his doubts dissipated in her marvelous body. The set of events or circumstances that complicated the relationship and the achievement of some genital approach, came to an end.Sucked all his erogenous zones, felt in essence his comfort, savored his taste, smelled his perfume, that aromatic liquid flowing from his vagina and thickening due to the action of air on contact with his vulva and lips, relieved his wound with that soreness, the one of my mother's pussy.He sodomized his wife's anus with his skilled tongue, restless and curious. He served zealously, too much to get only one thing, her sex or to flatter someone, my mother, who had been distant from him.
He relaxed and stopped blaming her, didn't reprimand her for her behavior during that long period of pregnancy, left aside the charges and accusations, his instrument in the form of a stick took care of whipping, as a punishment by expelling semen.
She, my mother, also responded adequately, returned to being the one of old, that one who drove him crazy with pleasure, fell in love and got married, in that distant northern province, then bringing her along with him to the city.
My mother knew that he liked blowjobs, and she went down on him, something she wasn't very inclined to do, considering it almost like a humiliation, however, she was turned on, that passionate feeling had been rekindled in her. And she entered into a process known to her, where her unbridled behavior increased uncontrollably and progressively, like a spiral.
He sat on her husband's phallus while my father was nibbling at her nipple, let herself be carried away, wrapped in fluids, feeling like she was breaking or cutting off, her genitals had turned into fertile land, virgin, unplowed. The groove, the one from his fissure where that gash passed, reminded her of the sound to reproduction.
It was like a sign that remained deeply etched on his body, his eyebrows furrowed, my father noticed that wrinkle on his face, both of them took it as an omen, anticipating with a sign a future process.
The sign was true, my mother got pregnant again, my future sister, who would give me so many satisfactions, conceived that day, barely I left there. That ended with my parents' marriage, not formally, as they continued together as spouses, but in fact, they never had sex again...
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