Cream & Coco

All characters are at least 18 years old.

-----

I opened my eyes and looked down to see Drew tonguing my nipple, lapping at the rivulets of milk coming out. With a groan, his lips closed around it, and I gasped when he sucked.

"Couldn't even wait until I woke up," I teased breathily, and he pulled away with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry. It's just... you were kinda making a mess." He pointed to a small wet spot on the sheets, and I shook my head in playful admonishment.

"You could've woken me up," I pointed out. "Or used the pump." I sat up and leaned against the headboard, beckoning for him to resume drinking.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that," he laughed, leaning down toward my breasts.

"You like mommy's tits?" I lilted, and he straightened with a thoughtful frown. "What's wrong?"

"Technically you don't have tits, mom. You have boobs."

I blinked blankly. "What's the difference?"

He sat up and settled next to me. "Well, boobs are big, tits are small. Just look at the words themselves. Boob. All round letters, upper- or lowercase. Tit. Straight lines, not much substance. The *sound* of the words feel different too. Even the word 'boob' feels smooth and round. Meanwhile, 'tit' really sounds like a little dot, staccato. Like a flatter girl's beestings."

"Drew! Don't call them beestings! It's not like those girls want to be that flat," I lectured.

Drew shrugged. "Not saying they're bad, but the word is descriptive. Anyway, have I told you my bird nomenclature theory?"

I was sure I'd have remembered him bringing up something like that, so I shook my head. He turned and snatched his phone off the nightstand, tapping away until he showed me a picture of an avian. It looked like an aquatic bird, shaped vaguely like a duck, including the webbed feet. Which brought us to its most distinctive feature: its feet were baby blue. I squinted at the photo, bewildered.

"That's a blue-footed booby," Drew explained. "About the size of a duck, as far as I can tell. Now compare that..." He took the phone back, tapped some more, then handed it to me. "...to the long-tailed tit."

I squealed a little when I saw the picture. It was probably the most adorable little bird I'd ever seen. Just like the booby, it was true to its name in that its tail looked about as long as its whole body. It was a fluffy little thing, its downy feathers adding to its cuteness. Even its beak was but a speck on its face.

"If you look at this photo," Drew said, paging through search results, "you can see it's small enough to sit on your thumb. Cute and tiny."

"And you think that our colloquial terms for breasts originated from these two birds," I giggled.

He shrugged again. "It's a heck of a coincidence that there are birds named the same way. And it also supports my argument: boobies are bigger than tits."

I couldn't help but laugh, and Drew grinned. I'd missed this. Drew was always going off on some long-winded rant or theory. Once, he explained how the numerical system and etymology in English was actually closer to German than English's French and Latin roots. He always knew a little bit of everything, and whatever impassioned him was what held his focus. Hearing his outlandish theory about breasts, as bizarre as it was... It felt like, after months of distant and withdrawn behavior, I finally had my son back.

--

I saw him in the lobby of my office building and froze. Aside from all the superficial changes like clothing, facial hair, and such, he looked very much the same as all those years ago. Just... more *tired*. I don't know why that word managed to beat "older" to the tip of my tongue, but there it was.

He spotted me and I cursed under my breath. I tried to focus on making it to the elevators, but I could see him headed toward me out of the corner of my eye. And when a six-foot-eight Hungarian is bearing down on you, you can't miss it.

"Coco!" he called, and I stopped and sighed. I turned toward him as he took the last few steps to close the distance, towering over me. I plastered on a fake smile, sure I wasn't going to make it through this without losing my composure.

"Andras," I said mildly. His dark hair was disorderly as always, slightly longer than Drew's, combed into a style that drove high school girls wild. I knew that from personal experience.

"It's been a while," he said conversationally, like he didn't track down where I worked. Come to think of it, he'd found out where I'd moved to from home. I knew my parents were angry enough to never tell him where to find me, so he must've had his own sources. Or somebody in our childhood neighborhood gave the information up in a fit of gossipy excitement.

"Yes it has. What are you doing here?"

"Business." He'd answered quickly, I noticed. Thank God it seemed his charms didn't work on me anymore. I would have been damned to get caught up in him again. "I'm in investment." No he wasn't. There was no way he'd entered the same field as me. It was just the perfect excuse to be here.

"Speaking of which, I'm running late." I pointed to the elevators. "Maybe some other time?"

"Of course. Wanna catch coffee after work?" he suggested, and my stomach flipped. Was he going to wait here until I came out?

"I actually have plans with a friend," I stammered.

"Perfect! We can get acquainted." And just like that, he threw me off step with how bold he was. He really hadn't changed.

I was left grasping for straws, still desperate to remain cordial. "Sure," I heard myself say. *Damn it all, Coco! He hasn't changed, but neither have you.* He was shameless enough to exploit how nice I was, and I was getting sick at the thought of history somehow repeating itself. "Anyway."

In a daze, I simply left him behind and made my way up to the office. I'd almost made it to my desk when I saw Leon looking at me, gesturing to go to his room. Dropping my purse at my desk, I headed in and closed the door behind me.

"We just had a visitor," Leon began as I sat. "He introduced himself as Josh Narai and said he needed an analyst." He nodded toward me indicatively, and I clenched my teeth. "Of course, the company isn't the walk-in client kind of outfit, so I asked him for details. He gave me his card, and that's when I saw."

Leon slid a business card toward me. All it had on it was the name "Andras Narai" along with a phone number. Suspiciously spartan.

"Thank God you told me about him that night," Leon murmured. I smiled weakly. I'd never have guessed it would be relevant in this way.

"Thank you for turning him away," I managed. "He ambushed me in the lobby. Said he was here for business."

"*Unfinished* business, more likely," Leon remarked bitterly. "I should've had him escorted all the way out the building." He paused briefly in epiphany, eyes widening. "You're not in danger, are you?"

"He's never been violent toward me before," I ventured.

"People change." He stopped, tapping his finger on his desk. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to scare you. We just don't know what his intentions are, and I want you to stay safe. For all we know, this is his way of trying to reconnect with you and Drew." I scoffed, and he nodded. "Want me to have him kept off the premises?"

"That would be nice, but I don't want to antagonize him until I have more information," I replied.

"Alright. Just stay on your toes, okay? I don't like the vibe I got from him."

I took a deep breath, already feeling worn out. "Me neither."

--

Andras was gone by the time I got off work, which I was thankful for. He would've been seriously deranged to have waited this long for me. I looked warily around the parking lot before getting in my car, driving straight to the cafe to meet Sasha. I felt eyes on me as I walked up to our usual table. I suppose my paranoia was evident on my face when I sat down.

"*V chem delo*?" Sasha asked. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, slightly out of breath. "Privet." She raised her eyebrows, a humorless look on her face. I sighed. "Drew's father is back in town."

Her expression turned solemn, and she seemed to fall into deep contemplation. After a while, she spoke up. "What does he want?"

I had told her originally that Drew was my neighbor's son. If that had been the case, she wouldn't have asked this question. But she knew from yesterday that Drew was actually my son, meaning she had pieced together the significance of Andras's return. As I suspected, she was a sharp one.

"No idea. Maybe he wants to reconnect?"

Sasha scoffed and sat back in her chair, resting her elbow on the seat back. "You are smart woman. Not foolish enough to believe. What is his name?"

I swallowed. "Andras Narai." She picked up her phone and I spelled it out for her. "Are you Googling him or something? What would we learn from that?"

"Is to find out that he has no social media," she replied, showing me the search results.

"Not everybody has social media," I reasoned.

"Not even LinkedIn account?" she retorted, eyebrow raised skeptically. "He is completely off grid. He is young like you, yes? Not old man?" I grimaced and nodded. "So unless he is... how you say... Amish. If he is not Amish, should know Internet, yes? And looking at name, is East European, not Amish."

"So what are you saying?"

"He is keeping big secret," she concluded simply. "Even job is secret. Must be... careful." Her eyes shifted slightly during the pause to look at something behind me. I turned, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. I was getting too strung out.

"Maybe coffee isn't a good idea," I said with a forced laugh. "Some hot chocolate would be better today."

Sasha nodded, eyes fixed to her phone as her fingers tapped on it mercilessly. "I order for you. Go to restroom and feel better. You look tired."

I obeyed, spending some time collecting my thoughts at the sink and making myself look more presentable. By the time I walked out, I could see a new steamy drink waiting for me, and Sasha ending a serious-looking phone call. She looked down the road again, but her dour demeanor switched seamlessly to one of cheer when I rejoined her.

"We talk of happier things now," she decided. "You use Sasha's tips yesterday?"

I blushed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Wow, straight to the point, huh? You really don't let things bother you once you're on this subject." Unabashed, she nodded, smiling widely. "But yes, I think it couldn't have gone better." I couldn't keep from beaming at her, and she clapped quietly. "Thanks for the... the tips. It might've been disastrous if I'd gone at it on my own."

"You have plan to take further?" she inquired, and I hesitated. She shook her head and waved me off. "Is okay. Now he knows you have interest. He will take lead. Boys always like to take lead," she added with a wink.

I couldn't think of what to say to that, so I changed subjects. "What about you and your friends? Any more good stories?"

She pursed her lips, then grew a grin that said she had the juiciest of details. "Is... How you say? Trouble in paradise. *Da*. Will work out, but is fun to see the play, yes?"

"I suppose, but only if you know it has a good ending. A good story has to have its ups and downs, after all." I grew a bit somber. "But in real life, sometimes a story just ends on one of the downs."

"Do not fear. I am sure you have guardian angel to make your story go up," she said, patting my hand, and I smiled. She couldn't know that, but it still warmed my heart for her to say that.

--

I arrived home and found nobody in the kitchen, which was a bit of a shame. I'd begun growing used to seeing Stefan teaching Drew the ins and outs of cooking. As I passed by Drew's room, I heard voices inside. It seemed Sabrina was here as well. There wasn't the usual collections of laughs or excited discussion, but something more serious. Perhaps something had happened at school.

When I was almost done changing into my home clothes, I heard the twins step out of Drew's room.

"Alright, we'll be at Lexi's place if you need anything," Stefan said, his voice muffled through the door. "Damn, I shoulda packed more. Shoulda known this would happen."

"I did warn you," Sabrina chimed in. "We should've just moved out." In a quieter voice, she continued, "Hey. It's gonna be alright. She'll come around."

"You don't know that. After dad--"

"She'll have to." There was a brief silence, and I assumed something nonverbal was happening.

"Lexi always has a plan," Drew said. "She's probably better prepared than you. Either she already made preparations, or she thinks doing nothing but wait is enough."

The discussion moved toward the front door and out of earshot, and by the time I came out the twins were gone. Drew was on the phone holding a take-out menu, and he handed it to me to choose what kind of pizza I wanted. I made a quick choice as he started speaking, and our delivery order was placed.

"Should I even ask what that was about?" I wondered aloud. Drew sighed and sat down on the couch, throwing his arm along the seat back. I settled next to him, cuddling up against his body, and his arm wrapped around my shoulder. How had we managed to get so comfortable with this situation in only a matter of days? It was mind-boggling, really.

"Probably best you didn't know the details," he muttered. "Deniability and all that."

"Deniability? Are they enemies of the state?" I laughed, and he chuckled.

"In a microcosmic sense, I suppose. They're fugitives now, depending on who you ask."

"Ooh, how cloak and dagger," I giggled.

He turned my chin so I was looking up at him. Drew had fallen into the position of dominance surprisingly easily. Maybe it was because I had subconsciously yielded it to him. With all the changes lately, it was hard to tell.

"And what about you, Ms. Hammond?" he spoke in a low voice. "How long would you stand up to... intense questioning?"

"Oh, I'd fold like a chair," I admitted, and he stifled a laugh. "I mean, you won't get anything from me! I'll never talk!"

"That right?" he crooned, his voice dangerously seductive. The second his lips touched my neck, I was done. It was frankly embarrassing how quickly I caved. I moaned and pulled him in close, running my hands up and down his wide back. He'd really put effort into gaining some muscle, not like that lanky father of his--

I stiffened up at the thought of Andras, and Drew pulled away, concern written on his face. If Andras found out where I worked, he could easily find out where we lived. The house purchase was public record.

Or he could have simply stalked me.

A chill ran up my spine, and Drew held my arms. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

God, I was such a pathetic liar. He frowned but let it go, and I felt miserable. The moment was ruined, and all he could do now was rub my back to comfort me as I worried to no end about how to deal with Andras. Given how he had reacted to mentions of his father in the past, I felt it best not to bring it up. Who knew how he'd respond to the news that Andras was actually back in town?

"I'm sorry, baby. It was just something that happened at work." He grunted in response, pulling me into a side hug. "But speaking of work, Mr. Valentine said you're invited to the company Christmas party."

He affected an awkward grimace. "Isn't that kinda weird? What is it, Bring-Your-Son-to-Work Day?"

"Cherish will be there too."

"Oh, great. Then the two of us get to watch as our parents flirt with each other in front of their colleagues." He rolled his eyes, but he was smirking.

I shook my head and climbed onto his lap, and he looked up at me in surprise. "Drew Hammond, I have no intention of flirting with anybody else," I declared. "I'm all yours."

He stared at me in awe for a moment before grasping for words. "Fucking hell, mom," he breathed finally.

"Language, mister," I teased.

"Fuck language." He reached up and pulled me into a kiss, and the mood was back. He cupped my nape while I ran my hands across his chest. I could just barely feel his bulge straining against his pants, and I reached down and began massaging it. He groaned weakly, submitting to my touch. That was something I liked about our chemistry. He wasn't afraid to leave himself vulnerable to me, and show the effect I had on him. He was open to letting me lead, but was ready to reassume control. I had no idea I had such an appreciation for these things until right this moment.

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, God *damn* it," Drew spat. I climbed off of him and he went to answer the door. "You're early," he barked at the delivery guy. A quick glance at the clock revealed that the pizza was actually five minutes late, but it seemed neither I nor the delivery guy was going to correct him. I giggled to myself over Drew's temper, while he quickly paid and snatched the pizza, practically slamming the door in the man's face.

"Young man, I taught you better than to be rude to servicepersons," I lectured as he dropped the food on the coffee table.

"I'm only polite to servicepersons who don't interrupt me when I'm with my woman," he said without skipping a beat. If his aim was to make my heart flutter, he was succeeding.

"'Your woman?'" I repeated shyly, chewing my lip. He caught me up in his arms, making me gasp. "Drew, the pizza..."

"Already found my dinner," he growled hungrily, and I shivered with anticipation. He seized my lips with his and walked us back to his room, stripping me all the way and leaving my clothes strewn across the floor in a provocative trail you only see in movies.

Keeping the lights off, he sat me down on the edge of the bed and threw his shirt off. I worked at his pants with tantalizing slowness, grinning up at him as I heard his breath quicken in frustration. My hand reached in and wrapped around his hardness, and he groaned, throwing his head back. Pulling him free almost sent his member careening into my face, and I reared back in alarm. It was twitching right in front of my nose, and I could smell his arousal. I gave his tip an experimental lick, earning myself another throaty groan from him and a taste of his precum.

I let my tongue roll lazily around his crown, and he gritted his teeth while he forcibly steadied his breathing. Taking him into my mouth only intensified his reaction, and his hips began trembling. I wondered if his knees would buckle were I to push him over the edge. Only one way to find out.

I pushed my tits -- boobs -- up and managed to envelop part of his length. He gasped as the soft flesh wrapped around him. I still had his tip in my mouth, slurping on it as I began moving my boobs up and down his shaft. He tiptoed onto the balls of his feet, pushing his cock even further into my cleavage and mouth, and I felt streams of milk begin to spray out onto his hips and groin. Soon enough my boobs were slick with warm milk, and Drew grunted before beginning to buck wildly. I slackened my jaw and dipped my head, letting him thrust deeper and into my throat. I moaned in time with his strokes to keep from gagging, and before long I was drinking his essence, never even getting a proper taste as it surged down into my stomach.

What I could taste was my own milk, which had thoroughly coated Drew's cock by that point. It had the faintest sweetness, and I regretted that he wouldn't get to drink it tonight. However, based on his dazed moans, I doubted he had any complaints. As I suspected, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the bed next to me. I smiled and stroked his hair, my other hand wiping up a stray smear of his cum from my lips when he pulled out. Slightly salty, and surprisingly bland. If he ever suggested it, I was open to regularly exchanging fluids with him.

God, that was such a naughty thought. I nibbled on a fingernail bashfully, then set about tucking him into bed properly. He groaned and settled into sleep easily, and I lay next to him and admired his peaceful expression. He was my baby boy and, come hell or high water, I was going to protect him.