When I am home alone with my infant son, Mikie, I have a tendency to make myself as comfortable as I possibly can. Take today for example. I am sitting on the sofa nursing my boy for his nourishment and to induce sleep. I am wearing an oversized man’s shirt that I saw no reason to button.
My little darling had apparently gotten his fill of breast milk because he was peacefully snoozing as only a baby that age can do. His tiny mouth on my nipple along with the feel of his tiny hand massaging my breast as he drained his quota had once again turned me on like a Christmas tree. My chest and breast were rising and falling abnormally, and precious Mikie was taking the ride entirely unaware of the events occurring around him.
Then the knock at the door broke the silence. My heart leaped to my throat. I just knew the noise would waken my baby.
“Caroline,” the voice from outside said, “it’s me, Paige. Are you home?”
It was my very good friend from down the street. Some people say we are joined at the hip, but my pregnancy and child birth altered that situation somewhat.
I made a shushing sound, and in a voice as loud as I dared under the circumstances, I invited her into my house. The minute she entered and surveyed the situation she assumed an affected stealth mode. She tiptoed over in front of me and the baby taking undue precautions not to wake His Highness.
“What a lovely sight,” she whispered as she surveyed my skimpily clad body and the kid attached to my motherly large breast. “May I?” she asked as she seated herself cross legged between my legs. Surprisingly her action caused a warm sensation to flow through my body and flush my cheeks.
“Make yourself to home,” I whispered as I shifted slightly on the sofa.
“Thanks, I will.” She steadied herself by placing her hands on my legs just above the knee. The warm tide raced through my body once again, but this time it was more intense, “Can I do anything for you, Mom?” Emphasis on the Mom bit.
“You could if you had a cock about eight inches long,” I said. “This kid makes me hornier than Hell ever time I feed him. My tits are super sensitive, and he is nothing short of demanding when he latches onto one of my nipples. I’ll bet my pussy is wet right now.”
“Let me check,” Paige volunteered as she stroked my slit with her forefinger. “Absolutely,” she reported.
“Careful, I’m still a little sensitive down there.”
“Sorry,” Paige said sympathetically. “Here, let me kiss it and make it better.”
“Yeah, right,” I sighed. “Ooooh,” I gasped as I felt her lips against my pussy. “What are you doing?” I cried.
“I just did what I’ve wanted to do for months now. I had an idea your pussy would be delicious, and I was right in thinking so.”
“You like my pussy?” I was flabbergasted. “You’re my best girl friend, Paige, and with your equipment, you’re definitely not a man.”
“I can see there’s nothing wrong with your eyesight, Love. I am also open-minded and a free thinker.”
“But . . . but ...” I stammered.
“Never make a judgment without adequate research, Caroline. Care to explore?”
“But I’ve never . . .”
“And you never will if you maintain that attitude the rest of your life.”
“I can’t,” I argued. “I have Mikie . . .”