I had just turned eighteen when mom got pregnant. Dad's an over-the-road truck driver and is normally on the road for two-three weeks at a time, then at home for a week. It was during one of the weeks he was at home that he and mom conceived what would become my little sister nine months later. He was back on the road when she learned that she was pregnant.
Life at home changed then. Since dad is gone most of the time it fell to me to help mom out. In fact, I changed my plans to attend college and decided that mom would need the help during her pregnancy, and then for a few months after the baby was born. I didn't mind, either. Besides, I had been helping mom with housework since I was ten.
As time passed and mom's tummy began to grow with the baby, I would stare at her for hours. She was always a beautiful woman, to me, and the pregnancy just made her even more beautiful. Sometimes, after a shower when I stood in front of the sink blow-drying my hair, I would stare at my own tummy and wonder what I would look like pregnant. I favor mom a lot and it wasn't hard to believe that I would also look as beautiful as her when I became pregnant.
Mom and I are both 5', 7" tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. Her breasts are bigger than mine β mom is a D cup while I'm a C β and we both have slender, curvaceous bodies. At least mom did before she got pregnant, and I knew that she would regain her youthful, attractive and sexy body once the baby was born.
The big day finally came and dad was thankfully home when mom gave birth to my sister, Andrea. She was so beautiful and I looked forward to helping mom take care of her. Maybe it's a female thing but the maternal instincts came out in me and I looked forward to the whole business of taking care of a tiny infant. Even the thought of changing diapers didn't bother me. The only thing I wasn't going to be able to help mom with was breastfeeding my sister. That would have to be mom's job. And, judging from her heavy breasts, she was more than capable of taking care of that task.
One day when Andrea was about two weeks old, the day after dad went back on the road, I walked into the den to find mom sitting on the sofa breastfeeding my sister. I don't know why - probably because I had never seen it before - but I was taken by complete surprise. The top mom wore was open and both of her large, milky white breasts were exposed. I just stopped in the middle of the room and stared. Mom held Andrea cradled in one arm while she sucked an exposed nipple.
"What's wrong, Amy?" mom asked with a chuckle. "You look shocked."
"Iβ¦well, I just hadn't seenβ¦you knowβ¦" I stammered.
"It's called breastfeeding, dear," mom grinned. "It's how I fed you when you were this age. In fact, I seem to recall that you enjoyed it."
"I was a baby, mom," I said a little disgustedly. Then, in spite of myself I laughed. "Besides, I think I can handle solid foods, now."
"Oh, that's a shame," mom said with a twinkle in her eye. Then, without warning, she cupped her left breast and winked. "There's plenty if you're hungry."
"Oh, puhleese!"
"Suit yourself."
I don't know what it is about the human psyche that causes us to think about something we would normally consider repulsive. For some reason I couldn't get mom's offer out of my head. I know she was just teasing me but the offer kept banging away inside of my head for the rest of the day and I couldn't get it out of my mind. The notion of sucking milk from her breasts, which I found initially distasteful, obviously triggered some latent need in me that I didn't know was there.
It wasn't just mom's offer to drink her milk that kept coming to mind, either. As much as I tried I could not erase the image of her large milky white breasts, the dollar size aureoles and her fat, hard nipples. In my mind's eye I could see the flawless, pale skin that looked as soft as satin. A few hours later, while I was in the utility room folding clothes that I had just taken from the dryer, I noticed something that startled me to the very core of my being. I had been thinking about mom's breasts and what it would feel like to suckle from them, to drink her mother's milk, when I discovered that my pussy was wet!
I sat down in a plastic chair by the table we use to fold clothes on and stared at the dryer, my brain buzzing with astonishment. I was aroused at the thought of sucking mom's nipples! Why? Women had never aroused me before β certainly not my mother! Yet, as I sat in the plastic chair, I looked down between my thighs at the damp spot on the crotch of my sweat pants that I'd cut down into shorts.
I guess my brain didn't want to accept the denial that screamed loudly inside of my head. My breathing became harsh and ragged in my chest, my pulse quickened and my body began to tremble with desire. I closed my eyes and tried to will away the unbidden thoughts that refused to leave my head. I didn't want to think along these lines, didn't want to harbor sexual fantasies of my own mother.
"Noβ¦please, noβ¦"I whispered softly.
I couldn't shake the thoughts in my head, couldn't drive out the images of mom's massive, milk filled tits and the fat nipples that a part of me wanted desperately to take deep inside of my mouth. That part was growing stronger and taking control of me. Tiny whimpering sounds came from my mouth and it wasn't long before I felt the resolve that I had believed was strong, evaporate with each second.
"Oh, mommyβ¦" I whimpered.
To my surprise, I found my right hand between my thighs and pressing gently against my damp pussy. It was an unconscious act on my part, something I had not planned to do, but the act, itself, destroyed what resolve I had left. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as I finally gave into the unwanted thoughts of incest. I wasn't wearing a bra under the short sleeve blouse and I could feel my nipples hardening, rubbing the thin fabric.
I looked at the closed door. Thirty minutes before mom had taken Andrea into her bedroom for a nap. I knew that she was most likely sound asleep with my baby sister beside her on the large king-size bed. And, in truth, I don't think it would have mattered because I was quickly losing control of all reasoning. Without another thought, I quickly shoved my shorts and panties down and off of my feet, and then shrugged out of the thin cotton blouse.