Disclaimer: This is a story about two consenting adults. All adults in the story are 18 or older. Enjoy!
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I woke up sometime around 6am to my 19 year old son, Stephen, joining me in bed. I had fallen asleep the night before in a silky teddy that accentuated my curves and made my full tits and ass look that much more desirable.
Although this is not usually something you would want your teenage son to see you in, Stephen and I had a special relationship.
I'm a 38 year old single mother who, a little over a year ago, got pregnant for the second time in my life. The father left shortly after hearing the news so I decided to raise the baby on my own.
Layla is now five months old and she's absolutely wonderful. She takes after me with her big, blue eyes and hints of blonde hair as well as a fair complexion.
I imagine she'll grow up to look a lot like me, which is a blessing and a curse. I'm considered to be very attractive, but it comes at a price. I'm 5'3" with long, wavy, blonde hair and blue eyes, a slim figure, and 38DD tits. My ass has also stayed in shape for someone my age. I keep myself looking great. Unfortunately that invites a lot of inappropriate looks and sometimes comments, so as you can imagine, I try not to socialize with people my own age too much and I tend to avoid dating.
Stephen takes after his father, who died tragically when Stephen was only ten. Stephen is 6'2" with dark brown hair and chocolatey-brown eyes. He works out regularly but still manages to maintain his boyish looks, just like his father. His father was the love of my life.
Without him around, Stephen took it upon himself to help me around the house as he grew up. When Layla came along, he started taking care of her as well. He even chose to go to a community college so he could stay home and help his mom. He's always been a gentleman like that, so caring and considerate of others' needs and feelings.
A few months after Layla was born, my tits were aching more than ever. They had jumped all the way up to a 38DDD and were so uncomfortable, I could barely sleep at night. Stephen had offered to massage them, he even tried massaging the milk out, but there was little letup. The milk was being produced more than little Layla could consume, and the pain from the breast pump was overbearing, so Stephen and I had a deal: he would drink from my breasts everyday until Layla was old enough for baby food. It seems like a strange arrangement, but it works for us. Stephen started drinking my milk once a day, which opened the doors for a sexual relationship. Drinking my milk wasn't enough for either of us. We were soon making love like crazy. He's amazing in bed. He's just as great as I remember his dad being, maybe even better. Because of the increase in my sex drive, my milk production increased. Over the past two months, he's having to milk me twice, sometimes three times a day! Of course, this just leads to more fucking.
When Stephen joined me in bed that morning, I opened my arms to hug him and was greeted with his hard-on against my leg as he laid beside me.
"Good morning mommy," he hugged me back.
"Good morning baby," I kissed him on the lips softly.
He had his hands on my back, but it didn't take long for them to make their way over my teddy.
"Mmm, what's that you're wearing, mommy?" He moved his hands softly over the fabric, and over the curves of my body. He moved to my belly, then to the end of the fabric, and went underneath to touch my bare pussy.
"No panties?" He asked.
