"Mother's milk is coming in now.." Natasha said, entertaining one of Borya's very private fetishes. "You've been a good boy stimulating mother's nipples. Her milk is flowing now."
Borya began to squirm at the thought, as he imagined warm gushes of milk filling his mouth, pooling up under his tongue and over his teeth. He groaned and with one hand began to squeeze the breast he was firmly latched onto, as if expressing milk. He could hear Natasha sigh as her clitoris responded, little throbs fluttering thru it, creating waves of pleasure as they both moaned in unison.
As one of several children in his family household Borya was often left to his own devices and sometimes did not get the attention he sought. Jealously he would watch his baby brother nursing at his mother's nipple, wishing he could be cradled in her arms instead, being fed her warm milk as he snuggled into her breast. Once he tried to crawl up into his mother's lap and started to tug at the buttons on the front of her dress crying for milk, which ended with a firm scolding that he was a big boy and did not need mother's breast. As he grew older he probably was not even aware of how he was always putting his finger into his mouth when concentrating on his writing, or chewing on eraser tips. Developing into a young man he would try to engage whichever lady he may have been romancing in breast play, begging them to allow him to at least kiss their nipples but the Victorian morals of the day often had them giggling and embarrassed more than aroused. His wife, whom he loved but in all truth had married more as a comrade and company while in exile, had not touched him intimately in years. Natasha offered him a physical and emotional feast. She indulged his needs without judgment or inhibition. With her, he could be that little boy, being nurtured and attended to, in stark contrast to his vast responsibilities in the real world.
"Turn over," she whispered gently. Having been on his side, he moved so that he was on his back. His mouth stayed fixed on her nipple as his firm erection rested across his stomach. Reaching for her bottle of oil, she removed the cork and allowed a thin stream of it to drip down and drizzle onto his cock. She replaced the lid and as he contentedly nursed she wrapped her hand around his cock and allowed the oil to slide luxuriously around her fingers as she began to slowly squeeze and milk his swollen member.
The sensation made him arch his back and moan loudly, pushing his hips naturally up towards her, trying to thrust rhythmically as if making love.
"Uh uh...' she said. "Mother will milk her little boy. Keep still.." she gently pushed his torso back onto the bed and quieted him down.
Borya moaned in frustration but quieted to small whimpers as Natasha's strong, capable hand began to work his swollen, slick cock up and down, up and down. It made a wonderful juicy noise as the oil slipped and slid. His mouth was full of nipple and breast, into which he nuzzled and grunted as her tugging and massaging sent shocks of pleasure thru his cock and tingles down his legs.
"Oh yes..." she said gently. "He's tired and cranky and needs to good milking..we've got to get allllll that milk out."
The fulfillment of one of his most primal needs, to suckle like a baby, was strong catharsis for this normally stoic and highly focused man who seemed in control of the world. He had learned to repress his desires after years of no outlet. Now, he was free to nurse unashamed, to utterly enjoy himself with his lips latched on a beautiful and sexually expressive woman's plump little nipples. Feeling the promise of orgasmic release starting to stir, he spread his legs open so that he was completely surrendered to her as she continued to stroke him steadily.
"Feel how hard and firm that cock is," she said. "We'll get a nice, big load of seed tonight.." She slowly ran her hand down to his tight testicles, which had risen up closer under his cock, preparing for climax.
She could see Borya was getting very excited. He was breathing so hard he had to now open his mouth, he could no longer suck properly. He was moaning and starting to writhe. Natasha knew he could no longer lay still for his feeding session, he was beyond control at this point and was instinctually thrusting steadily into her oiled hand. This time she allowed him to continue.
"That's a good little boy" she cooed and encouraged. "We're almost done with your milking, you just have to give for Mother...let go of your milk..that's a good, good boy..."
He then surrendered himself completely to Mother's firm, insistent hand, moaning and trembling. He was almost blindsided when his orgasm hit, with his head nestled into her bosom he cried out with a pleasure that was so intense it almost turned to tears as he shouted in short, loud bursts. His body convulsed as Natasha held the rhythm on his spurting cock, watching him shudder and shake with his eyes wide open, lost in some unknown time and space that only a very powerful release can create. His cream shot everywhere, onto her breasts and past his shoulders onto the bed. Thick spurts released high into the air as Natasha watched joyfully, encouraging him to give and give. She was very good at ensuring Borya had loud, strong orgasms and making sure he released every drop of built up seed. Tonight, her fulfillment of a very primal and deep-seated need drained him entirely.
Sweating and exhausted, Borya lay recovering in Natasha's arms. She held him and stroked his forehead, calming him down so that he could catch his breath again. At last his cock had finished it's contractions, and his body had settled. When his eyes opened, he looked up at her, satiated and sedated in his dream-state.
"Thank you..." he said quietly. "That probably sounds silly, I suppose but..just..thank you." He was allowing himself to be completely vulnerable. He stroked her hair, not knowing what else to say, not really needing to say any more. She lovingly kissed his sweat-drenched forehead. She went for a dampened rag which she used to clean his genitals and to wipe their blanket.
For a man who suffered with terrible insomnia, she watched him fall asleep within a minute. Tonight was his, this was a gift to him from her, and that night a special peace came over the little cabin as the lovers slept soundly in each other's arms.
