("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Marilyn By Pakao (pskao@juno.com) *** Marilyn gets pregnant, married, and has a baby boy when she's 16. Her much older husband is more interested in work than her, so she doesn't have any more babies until her son is able to give them to her. (MF, inc, anal, lac, rom) *** The year before my seventeenth birthday was an exciting one. I got my first job, I was seduced by the company owner, I got pregnant, I got married, and I gave birth to my beautiful son, Robert Jr., all before my seventeenth birthday. My parents would have objected more as Robert Sr., the guy who got me pregnant, was over 25 years older than me, but he was also one of the richest men in our foothills community, and he made sure my parents' debts were paid with quite a lot extra to fill their bank account before we were married. Being a young naive girl at the time, I thought Robert married me because I was pregnant and because I was good looking. I was half right. I later learned that Robert was quite the womanizer and had slept with many women, including many of the single women who worked for him. He never used condoms, but never got a woman pregnant until me. He had a low sperm count and was almost surprised as I was when I turned up pregnant. He was so happy that he'd finally have an heir, that he proposed to me even though I hadn't yet finished high school. He made sure I got the best prenatal care. He was happy we had a son. I knew I was good looking. I love to dance and started taking ballet when I was little. I had to stop when my breasts got too big when I was 14, but I still took modern dance and ballroom. I knew my legs, butt, waist, and breasts were all of the right size and proportion to turn guys' heads around. Well, my breasts may have been too big, but boys didn't complain. I was the object of Robert's attention, wasn't I? Boys would tell me I was pretty, and they seemed to like my light-brown hair, too. And for several years, Robert loved fucking me. I think now that it was because I was young. Every night became two or three times a week, became once a week, became once a month, and finally became two or three times a year on special occasions. For years, I'd hoped to get pregnant again. My doctor did all the tests and told me that I was healthy and quite capable of having more kids. Robert had put a lot of sperm in me when we were first together, so I thought he might be the problem. He refused to see a doctor about it, though. I was jealous of Flora because she had a two-year-old and was obviously pregnant again, even though she was 48. In fact, quite a few of my friends were having babies or had recently had them. I was 40, healthy, able to have kids, but so far had only one son. Flora didn't even get married until she was 35! I'd worked with Flora when I was 16 and she was eight or so years older. She mentored me at work, and became a good friend after I married Robert. When sex with Robert tapered off, I complained to Flora. It was she who told me about Robert's low sperm count. She knew, as she'd been one of Robert's lovers, and Robert had told her the doctors thought he'd never father a child. She told me about his other lovers, too. I didn't get angry with her because she told me that Robert had mostly stopped seeing other women when we were married, and had completely stopped seeing them a couple years after marriage. Apparently, he was putting all of his efforts into his business and didn't have time for sex, extra-marital or not, anymore. Well, that was a comfort, but frustrating. I wasn't going to lose Robert to another woman. I was going to lose him to his business. When I complained to Robert, he said, "Well, Marilyn, why don't you take a lover? Just be sure he's discrete. If word gets out that I'm a cuckold, I'll ruin both you and him. You know I will. You know I can." I didn't want a lover. I wanted a husband who wanted to fuck me. Because of Robert's low sperm count, I'd never taken birth control. I asked him, "What if I get pregnant?" He looked at me and thought before replying, "I'll accept any child you have as my own, but don't expect me to take anything away from Bobbie. He's my son. Any kid you have will be taken care of, but it'll be peanuts to what Bobbie gets when I die. Besides, you're 40 years old now, Marilyn. You may not be able to have any more kids." I raised my skirt and showed him my soggy panties. "Are you sure you don't want to satisfy me any more, Robert?" "I'll be 66 in a couple of weeks. I have difficulty getting hard." "You can still use your tongue and fingers, can't you? You used to lick me so good," I replied. "Frankly, Marilyn, I'm at the age where I find making money more interesting than sex. I had plenty when I was younger. You just find yourself a discrete lover, make sure he doesn't have any diseases, and have fun. I'm not jealous, and maybe if you tell me of your adventures, you'll get me hard again," was his response. That wasn't quite it, though. A couple of days later, Robert surprised me with some presents: some dildos ranging from large to very large, and several vibrators of different shapes and sizes. I had fun experimenting with them all in various combinations. It took practicing several times a day for me to finally be able to work the largest dildo into my pussy; it was huge, about 3" in diameter, and so long I never could get it all in. Maybe a horse could have gotten it all in, but I doubt if a pony could have. And the vibrators! A couple were shaped like dildos, but I found I preferred a big dildo in me to a vibrating one. There was one shaped like a dildo but with an extension that ended in little wings that surrounded my clit--it was good. There was a little egg-shaped vibrator that I enjoyed putting inside before putting a big dildo in me. My favorite was a little bullet-shaped thing that really got my clit going. With that and the egg and a big dildo in me, I often lost track of time, having orgasm after orgasm. I'd play with my toys while lying on Robert's side of the bed. The first time he felt the wet spot when going to bed, I was naked and fingering myself when I told him, "Thanks for the toys, dear. Those are my juices you feel on the bed. Are you sure you don't want me any more?" He put my hand on his dick and said, "No, that's fine, Marilyn. As you can see, even your scent and your obviously sexy and horny body doesn't get me hard any more. Let's just sleep. I'm glad you thought of me, though. You go ahead and get off on my side anytime you want as long as I'm not here. Try not to be too noisy, dear." I was frustrated as hell. I needed a dick that squirted real sperm. I wanted to get pregnant, and plastic toys couldn't do that. * * * About a month after Robert's 66th birthday party, I was having fun on my bed when I noticed the bedroom door was cracked. Now, I always closed the door before having my private fun. I knew the housekeeper was busy vacuuming (I could hear it) and the only other person in the house was Bobby, my son. I thought I saw movement. Was Bobby out there watching me masturbate? Part of me was outraged. My son is *spying* on me! Part of me was surprised. My *son* is spying on me! Part of me was thrilled. My son is spying on *me*! As I approached orgasm with part of my attention on who was outside the door, I realize that I'm noisy when I come. I heard myself screaming as waves of pleasure exploded from my vagina. When I was done, I looked back at the door and it was closed. Did I dream the door was open? I didn't think so. * * * Bobby, our 23-year-old son, still lived at home. He was really smart, well-muscled, and good-looking. He started schooling when he was five, skipped a grade between junior and senior high school, and managed to graduate in three years from a nearby state university with honors in his dual major of accounting and computer science. He got his MBA the following year, so he had three degrees, one of them a graduate degree, after four years of college. When I talked to him before he skipped the grade before high school, he told me that school was too easy for him. He'd thought about it, and realized he could either glide through school getting mediocre grades but not working very hard (as I had), or he could get through it as rapidly as he could and try to make something of himself. He looked on his dad as competition, or at least as an example of how to succeed. When I asked him about always being the youngest in his class, he said that was why he was always working out. He didn't look his age and was stronger than most kids. While I was taking dance, he was taking Oriental self- defence courses, so he was able to defend himself. He told me that when in grade school, the older kids tried bullying him, but he fought back so well that they stopped. He used his charm to keep the bullies from bullying other people, too. The bullies kind of became his gang, although he didn't like their brand of humor, but the teachers and administrators liked him for keeping "his gang" in line. After skipping a grade, he had to prove himself to the high schoolers, too. Bobby was good. He couldn't be intimidated, could charm most of his fellow students, and could easily beat the one or two bullies who wanted to prove themselves. He didn't brag about his exploits, but I talked to him after seeing unusual rips in his clothes a couple of times, and got the whole story out of him. He didn't hold grudges, and would offer to help other kids with their homework. He made peace this way. As in grade school and junior high school, Bobby became very popular in high school with both the other kids and with the teachers and administrators. He started noticing girls when he was 14 and a junior in high school. I suppose he really started noticing them much earlier, but he was 14 when he started bringing girls home and going on dates. Since Robert had already started tapering off in the bedroom and was really busy at work, it was up to me to talk to Bobby about sex and drive him around on his dates. I warned him not to get any of the girls pregnant, and to use a condom anyway to protect himself from disease. I provided several books about sex and disease and pregnancy to help him decided for himself. (He was smart.) I bought him a case of condoms and told him to get back to me when they ran out. I'd seen him looking at me in my leotards when I took him to his class before going to my dance class, and he'd try not to stare when I was in my bathing suit, so I knew he liked the way I looked. I didn't think anything of it. He was a normal boy with raging hormones. He stopped being so obvious as he got older, and I could rarely catch him looking at me out of the corner of his eye by the time he went to college. I kind of missed his lustful stares. During summer break, Bobby would work with his father before going back to college. Robert told me that Bobby was one of his top workers and he'd have no trouble leaving him the company. However, Bobby told me that he didn't really like the work he did for his father. There was a mild argument between them after Bobby got his MBA, which Bobby won. Bobby agreed to help Robert out when necessary, but he wasn't going to work there very much. He had his own projects to work on. There was something new called the internet, and Bobby had some ideas on how to make money on it. He'd live at home and rent his bedroom and an office from us. (Our house is really a mansion, with more than enough rooms for the three of us and the live-in housekeeper.) Neither Robert nor I was too clear on what Bobby was doing, but Bobbie was making a fortune. When he sold out after several years (just before the tech stock crash), he had more money than Robert. But I'm getting ahead of myself. * * * I masturbated again the day after I first noticed the door cracked open. I payed attention to myself and maybe made my moans a bit louder. The door cracked open again. The thought of my own son watching me masturbate was no longer a shock, but was a thrill. I was quite loud when I came. The door closed. After washing and getting dressed, I went to find Bobby working in his office. I said, "Hey, big boy, feeling like going out tonight? I'm tired of staying in and could use a night of dining and dancing." "Sure, Mom, what time?" "How about 7:30?" "OK, I know just where to take you," Bobby replied. I was excited. I was going on my first date ever. I didn't count the times Robert took me out after we were married, and he never dated me before we were married. I knew Bobbie was a good dancer, because I'd taught him myself. He and the students in my dance classes were the only guys I'd ever danced with, except for my dad at my wedding. To make the night really special, I went out and bought myself a very sexy cocktail dress. It was cut low enough to show my bra when I leaned forward, but plunging enough in the back that it didn't need a zipper; it had a string that tied in back to make my waist look narrow. It had a skirt that flared at the hips to mid-thigh. It was black with tiny, sparkly beads highlighting my breasts and hips. I also wanted to highlight my legs, but I didn't buy panty hose but instead bought thigh-highs with a pretty pattern on the calves and ankles. I bought a matching thong and bra set. I'd never worn a thong, but liked the feel of the silk running up my butt crack, and the fact that I could see my pussy though the front. The bra was thin, too, so I could see my nipples though it. I knew if I leaned forward in the dress, someone might see my nipples through the bra. I felt sexy, all dressed up with my light make-up on. Bobby's eyes bulged when he first saw me coming down the stairs. He said, "Wow! You're so beautiful, Mom! They're going to check your I.D. for sure tonight!" "Flatterer," I said as I smiled up at him and took his arm. Bobby took me to a small French restaurant near the county government center that I didn't even know about. I noticed him looking at my legs as he handed me out of the car. When he ordered a bottle of wine, I was surprised when the waitress asked to see my I.D. I laughed as I showed it to her, and smiled at Bobby. I said, "You paid her to do that, didn't you, Bobby." "No, I swear!" The food was excellent despite the poor location. I wondered how Bobby knew about it. He told me he'd taken other women here. In fact, Flora had recommended it to him. That surprised me. I didn't even know that Bobby talked to my friends when I wasn't there. We had fun touching knees under the table. I think he saw my thong as he handed me back into the car. After dinner, Bobby took me to a dance club. I knew about this club from other students in my dance classes. I didn't know that Bobby knew about it. He said, "Sure, Mom. I bring women here to practice what you taught me." I thought it unusual that he parked in the dark corner of the rather-empty parking lot, away from the club. This time, I deliberately opened my legs wider than necessary as I took his hand after he opened the car door to help me out. Although I noticed him start a little at the sight of my pussy through the thin thong, he was quite the gentleman and tried not the stare. After taking his arm, I looked up and said, "Call me `Marilyn' tonight, Bobbie. We're on a date." He said, "Absolutely, Marilyn," pecked me on my cheek, and opened the door to the club to let me in. It being a Thursday night, the place was not crowded. We got a small table by the dance floor, ordered drinks (I was again carded to my surprise), and danced to the first number, a slow dance. We were good on the floor. We both love to dance, and we felt like Fred and Ginger out there on the floor. We danced several dances together before they lowered the lights. When the lights were lowered, Bobbie put both arms around me and pulled me close. He caressed my back and slid one hand down to my butt and pulled me tight. I could feel his dick against my belly. He felt bigger than Robert. I nuzzled his neck while his hands roamed all over: my butt, my back, the sides of my breasts as they bulged out from being pressed into his chest. I could feel my nipples growing hard and my thin panties filling with juice. God! My own son was feeling me up on the dance floor! And I loved it!! When the light came back up, we broke apart. I'm sure that my face was red; I felt flushed. Bobby looked like he was breathing hard, too. We sat out the next dance. At the table, we finished our drinks and order another round. After it came, I felt a touch on my thigh. Bobby was touching me! My own son was touching me! He was rubbing his own mother's thigh! I opened my legs. He ran his hand up almost to my stocking tops. I scootched down a little. My own son was feeling his own mother's naked thigh! He was feeling my pussy though my juicy panties! The song ended, and I suggested we dance again. We did, and when the lights turned down again, I pressed myself against him. This time, his hand slid under my clothes. He felt the string between my naked butt cheeks. My son was feeling my naked ass! He slipped a hand into my dress and felt my bra-covered boob. My son was squeezing my breast! He slipped under the bra and found my nipple. My son, my very own son, was tweaking his own mother's nipples! And I wanted him to!! I'd never realized that my breasts and nipples were so sensitive. When the lights came back up, we hastily broke apart and went back to the table. This time, I just scrunched down before he even touched me. His hand slid right up to my pussy and I felt him pulling my panties aside to find my clit and hole. I'd never felt this way before, even when Robert first seduced me. My own son was rubbing my clit and fingering my hole! Bobby was going to make his own mother come on his fingers! And I wanted more than fingers! Before he made me scream in orgasm, I said in a husky voice, "Let's get out of here!" We finished our drinks, paid up, and left the club. I was so excited. I was going to get fucked! My own son was going to fuck me! Bobby was going to fuck his own mother! And I needed his big cock! The corner where Bobbie had parked the car was away from the club. The passenger side faced the freeway through a chain-link fence with scraggily vines growing on it. The front of the car faced a dark building. Except for people speeding by on the freeway, the passenger side of the car was pretty isolated. As at the restaurant, Bobby walked me to the passenger side and opened the door. As I brushed past him, he caught me in his arms, twirled me around so that my back was against the back door, and started kissing me. Real kisses. Kisses that made my pussy gush and my toes curl up in my dancing sandals. I was so involved with the kisses, that I didn't realize he'd untied my dress and undone my bra until I felt him leave my lips and begin suckling my beasts as if he were trying to get milk from me. Oh, God! It felt so good! I never realized that I could have an orgasm from my son suckling my breasts! I moaned. I came. I may have screamed, but I'm not sure. I think Bobbie pulled down my panties while I was coming, as the next thing I knew, Bobbie was lifting one of my legs and sticking his tongue in my bare pussy. He licked the length of my gash and teased my clit before sucking hard on it. I came so hard that I would have fallen had Bobbie not held me up. My own son was the first man to lick my pussy! Robert used to like having me suck him, but he never licked me. My own son was the first! He made his own mother come with his tongue! I was still in a daze when Bobbie stood up, holding one of my legs on his shoulder, and placed my hand on his now-bare cock. I put its head in my hole, and Bobbie pushed it all the way into me with one thrust. What a thrust! Bobbie is a lot larger than his father, and a lot thicker too. I put my face into Bobbie's neck and screamed in orgasm as he bottomed out. My own son was fucking me! He was fucking his own mother! He was making his own mother come with his big cock! I'm not sure how many times I came or how long he fucked me. It seemed forever. I wanted it to last forever. Eventually, Bobbie came inside of me. We kissed and he let my leg down. He reopened the door to let me in, picked up my clothes, walked around to the driver's side, tossed my clothes into the back, and got in. I turned to him, naked except for my stockings and sandals, and said, "I hope we can do that again. I've never had such a good fuck!" Bobbie kissed me, kissed my boobs, felt my spermy pussy, and then pulled the lever to make my seat flat. After caressing and kissing me some more, he started licking my pussy again. I grabbed my thong from the back seat and put it in my mouth to muffle my screams as Bobbie licked me to another orgasm. My own son was licking his own come from his own mother's pussy! I could feel my nipples and breasts swell, and my pussy and asshole trying to suck something, anything, in. Bobbie then climbed between my spread legs and put his already-hard cock back into me. Bliss! With his mouth, he took my thong from my mouth and kissed me. I screamed into his mouth as I came. I could feel him pinching my nipples. I came, screaming into his mouth. He sucked one of my nipples. I screamed in orgasm, almost deafening us in the confines of his car. I was aware enough to realize that we'd come together this time. Bobbie climbed off of me back to his seat and said, "Wow! You're the best, Mom! I never knew sex could be so good! Maybe it's because I also love you. Maybe it's because you're the most beautiful woman, inside and out, that I know. Maybe it's just because you're such a fantastic fuck. And maybe it's because you're my mother!" I replied, "And maybe it's because you're such a good lover and we're really good together. There's something deliciously wicked about fucking my own son, about my own son fucking his own mother! The touch of incest, hell, the battering ram of incest helps makes us really good together, Bobbie! I think I'm addicted to you after tonight!" He said, "I certainly hope so." I reached for my clothes and he added, "No, Mom. Stay naked until we're home. Put your seat up and display yourself proudly to whoever wants to look. You're too beautiful to be hidden!" I could feel my nipples swelling and my pussy juicing up again as I put my seat upright. The idea of being seen naked by any anonymous driver on the road was exciting. By now, it was dark enough that there really was very little risk of actually being seen, but just taking the risk was a thrill. I was wrapped in a post-orgasmic glow and a cocoon of love. I didn't even notice that Bobbie had started the car. I didn't try to hide myself, but my breasts are large enough that they sag and are difficult to see below the windowsill of the door. Eventually I noticed that we were not headed home. "Where are we going?" I asked. "Just a little, secluded place I know," was Bobbie's reply. Before long, Bobbie turned onto a secluded road, and soon we were along on a hilltop overlooking the town. Although I'd never been to one, it looked like a make- out place to me. I turned to Bobbie and said with a smile, "What naughty things are we going to do here?" "Just a minute," he said as he got out, went around the car, opened my door and gave me his hand. "Step on out, and I'll show you. Leave your sandals on." I took his hand and he pulled me up into his arms and started kissing me. His hands caressed my back, my butt, my breasts, my pussy. He closed my door and led me to the hood. Kissing me again, I could feel him start getting hard again. Then I felt him worm a finger into my asshole. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I think you've never been fucked there, right?" I nodded. "I'm too late to take the cherries from your mouth and pussy, right?" I nodded again, looking him in the eye. "Will you let me take the cherry from your ass? I'll be easy on you. I've done this before and won't hurt you. God, the last thing I want is to hurt you." I panted a couple of times, then said, "OK. We're being really wicked tonight, aren't we?" He smiled at me and said, "Absolutely! Here, turn around and bend forward over the hood." When I did so, I could feel him taking the juices from my pussy and using them to smear my asshole. He smeared juices inside my asshole. He smeared juices on his cock. I was so excited, that I kept on dribbling more juices, which he smeared into my ass. He started using two, then three fingers to get my juices into my ass, and wiggled his fingers around when they were a couple of knuckles deep. His other hand was stroking my back, my thighs, my breasts, and dipping around to fondle my clit and pussy. I think he was relaxing me. Then he stood up and I felt his cockhead at my asshole. My own son was going to be the first man in my ass! My son was going to be the first man to fuck his own mother's asshole! I was ready. I shoved back a little. His cockhead popped through the ring of my sphincter. He pushed further in. Further. Out a little, in a bit more. Soon I felt his balls against my pussy. My son had his cock all the way in my ass! My son had all of his big dick in his own mother's ass! He'd taken my anal cherry! I had another screaming orgasm. No one but us was around to hear. I was vaguely away of him squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples, pinching my clit, fingering my pussy, kissing my neck and back. Mostly I was aware of his big dick sawing back and forth in my ass. I think I may have pasted out from the pleasure, but time stood still for me. Bobbie blasted another load of his sperm into my ass, and I came out of my trace after another orgasm. I realized that I was lying on the hood and Bobbie's hands were holding up my hips. We stayed joined like that for several minutes, for an eon, I don't know. Eventually, his cock shrank and slipped out of my ass. He held me up, opened my door, and carried me to my seat. I was still dazed. I'd never had sex so good. I didn't even know it was possible. I came out of my trance on the way home and realized I was sitting in a pool of sperm. "I'm soaking your seat," I said. "You're not the first," was his response. I looked at him and asked, "What?" He confessed, "I've had many women in this car and at that spot. Many of your friends, Flora, for instance." I looked at him in surprise and asked, "Is that why you bought a full-sized car when most boys, er, young men prefer sports cars?" "Absolutely. By the way, are you using birth control? I may have gotten you pregnant tonight." I said, "Oh, God! I hope so! I've wanted more children since you were born! Your father...um..." "...has a low sperm count. I know. Flora told me. By the way, she's the mother of one of your grandchildren and is pregnant with another. At least, she thinks the kids are mine and not her husband's. Several other of your friends, like..." and here he rattled off the names all of my friends who'd had children recently "...are also the mothers of your grandchildren. I don't have a low sperm count." My jaw dropped. I said, "That means that I could...well..." "...be the mother of your own grandchild. Yes, that's possible. And I could be the father of my own brother or sister. Talk about wicked! That's really naughty!" I grunted as I came without even touching myself. I could be the mother of my own grandchildren! How exciting! I opened my eyes and said, "I hope you don't mind. I want as many of your children as you're willing to give me and my body is capable of having!" Bobbie grinned at me and said, "Absolutely!" By now, we were turning into the drive to our house. I was getting a little nervous. "What are we going to tell your father? Should I get dressed?" I asked. "No way. Let's tell him the truth. Didn't he advise you to take a lover?" Bobbie said. "Yes," I said in a small voice. "Didn't he say to be discrete?" Bobbie asked. "Yes," I said again. "Well, who'll be more discrete than me? Who wants the best for both you and Dad? Who can give you the babies you want? I think I'm the perfect choice as your lover!" Bobbie said. By now Bobbie had parked the car. He said, "Take up your clothes, but don't put them on. The housekeeper's in her room by now and won't see. I want you to come with me naked into the house and we'll find Dad together. We'll tell him what we've done tonight." I was nervous and very scared facing Robert while naked with our son's sperm coating my thighs and crusting on my pubic hair; but with Bobbie next to me, I was able to do it. Robert agreed with Bobbie; Bobbie was my perfect lover. I was so surprised. What surprised me the most was that Robert seemed more interested in me sexually, now that our son was my lover. He even joined us few times in bed over the years, and I got to feel the thrill of two cocks in me at the same time. It was usually Robert's cock in my mouth or ass while Bobbie was in my pussy. I wanted Bobbie's sperm in my womb, where it belonged, even though he did indeed get me pregnant that night of our first date. First date. Yes, we've had others. Bobbie is a lot more romantic than Robert, and loves taking me dancing. He loves showing me off, even when I'm eight months pregnant. Yes, I got pregnant roughly every eighteen months for nine years. As my kids were also Robert's grandkids, he's planning on leaving them more than peanuts, especially as Bobbie's fortune is also pretty big and Bobbie's not interested in taking over Robert's company. Maybe one of Robert's and my grandkids (my own children!) will be interested and capable of running the company. Robert says he wished I'd started making babies earlier with Bobbie as he hopes to still be alive to teach our oldest grandchild the business. Although I'm apparently too old to make any more babies, I'm still lactating. I've lactated since I was eight months pregnant with Bobbie's first child by me. All my children, especially Bobbie, love my milk. Even Robert likes it in his coffee. Although I weaned my kids when they were four, I still let them suckle on occasion to soothe them. Besides, I find suckling gives me orgasms. Bobbie and I found that when he suckles me while fucking me, I express my milk into his mouth. My let- down reflex really goes when I have an orgasm. Oh, that's the best feeling in the world! My son making me come with his cock inside of me while expressing my milk into his suckling mouth! What a feeling! It's gotten so that even when the younger ones suckle, I have mild orgasms. I wondered just how much milk I could actually produce and for how long, and asked my doctor. He said my milk production depended a lot on demand, and that I could produce milk as long as needed. Well. There's a lot of demand for my milk in our house, and all my children as well as Robert think my milk is necessary for their cereal and hot drinks. I'm going to be lactating a long time. I just have to eat the right foods. The End * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 53