Becky's Milk
They say you always remember your first. But the one I really remember was my first "new mom". Let me explain.
I've known Becky for as long as I can remember. She lived next door when I was growing up, and was 11 years older than me. When she was a teenager, she started babysitting my little brother and me. As I got older, I really didn't need a babysitter, but she still babysat my little brother. So we got to carry on our relationship.
She wasn't what I would call beautiful. But she wasn't ugly either. Just sort of ordinary. She was also kind of geeky, but that was cool because I am too, and we clicked on many levels. On those babysitting nights, we talked a lot. And tease a lot. I sort of crushed on her, but would never say anything since she was twice my age. We were somehow more than just friends. Certainly not girlfriend/boyfriend, but not exactly like siblings either. I don't know how to describe it. Eventually, Becky graduated high school and went off to college and I lost my favorite babysitter.
It's now a decade later, and I just started college locally, so living at home. And Becky's back. She's married now, and she and husband Mark are buying her parents' house. The parents want to downsize, and Becky and Mark want the big house for their own family. Mark travels a lot for his work, so it's my turn to take care of Becky with odd jobs. And we picked up right where we left off with all the talking and teasing.
Becky and Mark just had that first baby. It's winter, and we just got dumped with a big load of snow. Mark's on the road again, so after shoveling our driveway, I just went next door and start shoveling theirs. Becky pokes her head out the door. "Rob, you don't have to do that."
"Nonsense," I reply. "You've got enough going on with the new baby."
"Well, OK, thanks. But promise me you'll come in for some hot cocoa when you're done."
I do, and later we're sitting on her sofa sipping cocoa and chatting. The baby starts to cry and Becky says, "Feeding time. I'll be back. Don't go anywhere." I pick up a magazine and start flipping through the pages.
It's not long before Becky rejoins me on the sofa. "He's asleep now. Nothing like a little mama's milk to zone him out."
I notice that Becky's got two wet spots forming on her t-shirt, right at the tips of her boobs, and as the spots grow bigger, the fabric molds to their shape. Her boobs aren't that big, but bigger than I remembered, but the nipples are engorged and the areolas puffed up, and it looks just amazing.
She notices me staring and looks down at herself. "Shit, I hate when that happens! Let me go put on a bra or something."
"Don't bother. I like what I'm seeing." I'm teasing as usual. She tilts her head down and to the side to give me an eye and a smirk to let me know I'm being naughty.
But then she doesn't get up to change. "I make so much milk that the little guy can't drink it all. I usually pump them after feeding him and put it in the freezer."
"Momcycles!"
"Yeah, whatever. But even then I can't use it all and end up throwing it out. Even before he was born, I was flowing like a river." Then looking very slyly at me. "You know, Mark and I sometimes just bring it into our play."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh," now embarrassed to have gone this far, "Mark sucks on them. He drinks my milk."
"Is that allowed?"
"What's wrong with it? He enjoys it. And I absolutely love it."
"Well, since he's not here, I'd be happy to..."
"Rob, you are so naughty!"
I just smile. There's now a long silence. Are we regretting that we'd gone too far? Are we wondering if we should cross that threshold?
Becky slowly reaches up and cups each breast in her hands. "They're really full."
"I can see that."
No evil eye to me this time. "I really ought to do something."
I turn on the sofa to face her, my palms up, trying to look as available as possible, expecting to get shut down again. But she turns to face a little more in my direction and grasps the bottom of her shirt.
