I must have passed out from a combination of the exhaustion of new motherhood and the intensity of the orgasms I had had... I slowly came awake and found that I had rolled onto my side, and I had a moment of panic, afraid that I had dropped or crushed Junior, but then my eyes flicked to the video monitor and I saw him, safe in his crib in his room across the hall, sleeping soundly.
Did I put him there? My mind was so sluggish, I felt so groggy, I couldn't seem to remember. But Victor was out of town, so it couldn't have been him. Oh, right, Daddy was here, so Daddy must have put him there ... Daddy!! And suddenly it all came back to me in a rush, suddenly I remembered what had happened, what Daddy had done... what I had let him do, what I had enjoyed letting him do...
The guilt came crashing in, the confusion, the self-loathing, the sense of betrayal -- I had not only allowed my father to suck my tit, to feed from my tit, but I had been aroused by it, I had been brought to orgasm by my father -- twice! It was unconscionable, it was reprehensible, it was shameful, it was... it was... it was... unbelievably erotic and arousing and was making me wet just remembering it. I reached down to touch my pussy and gently stroked my clit, moaning softly while remembering how Daddy had made me cum...
But surely it was just a one-time thing, right? Was Daddy struggling with his own guilt about what he had done? Was he worried I would hate him now, that I would be getting ready to call the police or my husband or something? So many possible scenarios, so many possible next steps...
Quietly, I got up and went to the bathroom. I was, honestly, amazed by my reflection -- I looked rested for the first time, my eyes were clear and my skin even seemed to glow a bit more than it had in weeks. I relieved myself, tossing my panties into the laundry hamper, then washed my face, brushed my teeth, and tidied my hair before pulling it back into a loose ponytail.
I couldn't resist the curiosity, and I pulled my nightgown off my shoulders to look at my breasts -- they didn't look too different, they were still somewhat milk-heavy, more swollen than their regular 34B, and the nipples didn't seem to be any the worse for wear from having been used by Daddy's mouth... At the thought, I could see a few drops of milk appear at their dark brown tips, and I quickly wiped them clean and pulled my gown back up into place, willing my brain to think of butterflies, laundry, paying taxes -- anything but a mouth attached to my tits! Then I tiptoed out of the bathroom and bedroom to find Daddy.
I found him back in the living room, lying on the chaise, eyes closed, asleep. There was a soft smile on his lips and he looked so relaxed, so content, so peaceful, more than he had looked in ages. I stood there, gazing at him, wondering what I was supposed to do -- how did I just "go on" from what happened? How was I supposed to act now? How was I supposed to FEEL about Daddy now?
I knew, deep down, that Daddy had not really forced me into anything -- sure, I resisted him at first, but even that resisting was feeble and more a formality than anything else, and I knew it. Even now, watching him from the hallway, I felt a tingling in my pussy which at the very least convinced me I was not disgusted by him, by myself, or by what had happened.
I walked over to him quietly, smiling as I looked down at him, and bent to place a very soft kiss on his forehead. Just as I was straightening up to move away, Daddy's arms came up and around me and he hauled me onto his lap. I let out a little yelp of surprise, and Daddy took advantage of the moment by crushing his mouth to my open lips and thrusting his tongue into my mouth, assaulting me before I could make another sound, his tongue moving over mine, his teeth nibbling on my bottom lip, licking me, devouring my mouth, leaving me breathless. It was, without a doubt, the hottest kiss of my entire life.
Suddenly I felt his hands grabbing my robe and pulling it open and they started fondling my breasts through my nightgown, hefting them, toying with the hardening nipples they were topped with. Daddy broke our passionate kiss, looked me in the eye, said, "I love you, Angel," and dipped his head down to capture one of those nipples in his mouth. His hand was lifting my breast for easier access and he began sucking my nipple gently, through my nightgown, teasing it with his teeth until it got even harder and started to leak milk copiously.
Daddy growled with satisfaction, opened the front of my nighty, and pulled out one of my milk-swollen breasts and latched on, fiercely. All my previous doubts flew out the window, and I just reveled in the sensation of my Daddy sucking my tit, of him drawing out my milk and swallowing it like a glutton, of the way it made my entire body tingle, and of how wet it made my pussy...
Junior was crying in his crib in his room down the hall, and the sound broke through the haze of lust and pleasure that all centered on my left tit, the tit lucky enough to have been chosen by my Daddy, the tit being suckled almost violently, the tit from which electric shockwaves were traveling in a straight line that ended in my increasingly wet cunt.
The crying brought me to my senses, and I pushed at Daddy, who at first only looked up at me with blazing if slightly unfocused eyes, eyes which seemed to reflect the same burning desire I was sure must be found in mine, eyes under frowning eyebrows that protested my attempted interruption of his feeding. A second later, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Daddy's eyes cleared and his mouth opened in an "Oh!" of recognition, releasing my turgid nipple with an audible POP! that brought a small whimper of longing from Daddy.
But Junior's cries were growing stronger and louder, and my tits responded immediately and started leaking more milk instinctively. Daddy's arms dropped, releasing me, but his eyes, riveted to my leaking nipples, blazed dangerously. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Go, take care of my grandson -- go quickly before I change my mind!"
I jumped up off of Daddy's lap and sprinted to my son's room, worried that I would cave to my OWN base desires and choose my pleasure over my poor baby's needs. When I got back to his room and scooped him out of his crib, I settled into the recliner and offered Junior my tit, and his cries stopped as if a switch had been flipped as he automatically latched on. I was almost immediately lost in the sublime joy of feeding my son, the love swelling in my heart, the pride of being able to nurture him with my body making me sigh and close my eyes to enjoy the experience.
