I peeked into his room carefully. I could hear him panting, just like yesterday, but he wasn't on his bed. I frowned. Where was he? Cracking the door open a little wider gave me a view of his desk. Not there either. It was so curious that I put a hand on the door and was about to push further when it suddenly swung open, sending me tumbling to the ground. I caught myself with an arm and was left with a view of a pair of feet. With a gulp, I looked up to Drew standing over me with his eyebrow arched and a small smirk on his face, wearing a t-shirt and boxers.
"Sorry, I was just passing by, and--"
He helped me to my feet, then firmly pulled me into the room and closed the door behind me. I yelped as he yanked my wrist, spinning me toward the bed and landing me on the mattress. I sat there looking about as guilty as a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Just passing by," he mused, voice low and full of desire. I swallowed, feeling myself get wet. Did I have no shame? "Not at all to watch your son jacking off like the last two times."
My face burned crimson, and I was at a loss for words. Next to me on the bed, his phone was still playing a recording of his moans, and he reached down to turn it off. He'd really gotten me good.
"So you've been caught lying, mom. I think that fair is fair and you deserve punishment, don't you?" He leaned in close, stopping just short of kissing me as if waiting for permission. And I wordlessly gave it. I closed my eyes and parted my lips, mind swirling with all the things I was supposed to say to get myself out of the situation. Instead I let Drew kiss me, feeling my heart pounding against my ribcage as he leaned us back onto the bed, his body pressing against mine. His tongue grazed my lips and I whimpered before giving him a lick back and feeling incredibly embarrassed at the fact that I should have been much better at this. He didn't seem to mind though, pressing his hard chest into my leaking breasts--
My eyes popped open right as he pulled away and frowned down at his own shirt, which was damp in two places. His eyes darted to my breasts right as I covered them, and his expression intensified.
"Mom, are you...?" His face was a mask of unbridled rage and distraught devastation, but suddenly shifted to analytical as if he just realized something was logically wrong. And he'd be correct. "Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"
I chuckled once, ruefully. He'd been giving me no small amount of grief these past few days. Not that it was his fault, but I couldn't help but wonder if that counted. I told him as much, and he looked apologetic, suddenly awkward in the situation we were in.
"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, then cleared his throat.
"I didn't mean it that way, baby," I clarified. "It's alright. I don't think that's it though." I could feel my sleep t-shirt wetting at the nipples, getting a bit uncomfortable. Damn it all, I really should have pumped myself earlier.
"You had a physical a few weeks ago, right?" he went on, and I nodded. "So that rules out a lot of possibilities." He was very accurately going down the same list of possible causes I'd looked up online. I didn't even question why he knew so much about my condition. It was always a habit of his to know bits of information on all kinds of topics, regardless of how unusual or niche they were. "No big change in diet, or drug use. So that leaves..."
He looked at me then with smoldering eyes, wetting his lips. What was he thinking?
"Don't speculate, baby," I said quickly. "Just ask whatever you're thinking."
"Are you on birth control, mom?" he breathed.
Oh God. He thought I was taking birth control in preparation for having sex with him. Of course he'd think that, he'd caught me spying on him masturbating. I was here, after all, on his bed and at his mercy. I could see how it wouldn't be too big a stretch of the imagination for him.
"No," I said definitively. "Nothing of the sort."
He grunted before stealing another glance at my wet shirt and swallowing. He leaned in to kiss me again and I didn't stop him. We moaned to each other as we made out, and my hands crept under his shirt to touch his new abs. The cavewoman in me was so turned on, urging me to move my hands up. He could never build muscle before, but in the last three months he had been making some progress. And it seemed my baser instincts were enjoying it.
I slid his shirt off over his head, then pulled him back to me. He was going slow, following my lead, and while the small part of me that was clear of mind was screaming about how wrong this was and the number of lines we were crossing, the rest of me laughed and declared she had no power here.
Drew experimentally tucked his fingers under the hem of my shirt, pulling it up ever so slightly. We both froze in place for a second before he continued undressing me when I didn't protest. He gasped when my panties were revealed, and involuntarily groaned when my breasts came into view. He wet his lips again and took my shirt off, tossing it far far far away.
I lay almost naked before my son, lips slightly swollen from kissing, a blush all the way down my neck, and panting with need. His hand reached for one of my breasts but he paused, looking at me with questioning eyes. I gulped and nodded, and his breath shuddered. Experimentally, his fingers cupped one of my tits, and we both let out small sounds of anticipation. Milk was beading at my nipple, and suddenly I could hear how dry his mouth was. He kissed me again, then started working his way down, nuzzling my neck very nicely before leaving a trail of kisses on my collarbone.
I knew where he was going. My tits were aching. Begging for a mouth. I looked at Drew with dreamy, heavy-lidded eyes. Please, yes.
His lips settled around my nipple, and I gasped. His teeth grazed it for a moment, then his tongue lapped at the milk before he began sucking. I moaned as he fed from me for the first time in eighteen years. Had I missed this? No, this was a different feeling. He didn't need to drink from me; he just wanted to. He wanted my milk. He wanted me.
I cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer. His other hand went to my other breast, and I arched my back as he massaged both. At one point he opened his eyes and gave me the most seductive look I'd ever seen, and milk squirted out of me, sprinkling both of us. He moved his mouth to the other one and cleaned up the drizzle before continuing to drink.
I couldn't help it, and I couldn't believe it, but I began climaxing right under him. Drew's expression was shocked, but he remained undeterred, draining me as I came. It intensified the orgasm, and I rode it as it dragged out for whole minutes, a steady electrical current running through me for as long as he was attached to my tits. When he finally pulled himself off with a pop, I sagged back into the mattress, exhausted and spent.
"I love you, mom," I heard him utter.
I couldn't answer. All my strength was gone. I wasn't making it back to my own bed tonight. And I don't think Drew minded one bit.
