Substitute Baby

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As I approached the kitchen that Saturday morning, eager for a cup of coffee, looking forward to a nice relaxing day, I heard my daughter stomping around the kitchen, dressed in just panties and a nursing bra, cursing and slamming cabinet doors.

“SHARON LYNN REYNOLDS! What is your problem?” I said, irritated that my good mood was about to be ruined. When my daughter is on a rampage, she can piss off the Pope.


“Uh oh.” I thought. “When she calls me Mother, I’m in for a long, miserable day.”

“I can’t find my FUCKING breast pump.” She replied, as her eyes fired daggers at me.

“There is no reason to use that kind of language. Sit down and relax, I’ll look for it.”

“You try relaxing when your breasts are about to become two milk erupting volcanoes” She fired back.

“I’m sorry, Dear.” Trying to soothe her. I understood how she felt. Her baby was barely two months old and couldn’t possibly consume all the milk she was producing. As I began looking for the pump a ridiculous idea began to form.

Beginning with the last couple of months of Sharon’s pregnancy, I began to have impure thoughts about her. My daughter is normally petite with smallish breasts but as her pregnancy advanced, her breasts began to get enormous, just as mine did when I was pregnant. She went from an “A” cup to putting a strain on “C” cup nursing bras. They were like two giant cones. She also neglected any kind of modesty. By the eighth month she was waddling around the house usually dressed in a filmy nightgown.

I had occasional fantasies about other women since I got married, but had never had an opportunity or an overwhelming desire to follow up on them. I had a two year affair with my best friend, Gail, in high school and enjoyed every minute of it, but my husband kept me more than satisfied sexually and every other way. But just looking at my daughter’s breasts and the strong desire to suck on them, brought back erotic memories of Gail’s hard nipples between my lips as I fingered her to one climax after another. Just the thought of such an incestuous act should have quelled that desire but putting that logic aside, the idea, from a purely carnal standpoint, was deliciously sick. bahis firmaları Just looking at her would turn me on, and watching her nurse the baby would cause me to have to leave the room immediately so I could masturbate. I tried to attribute my sexual cravings to the fact that I had been without a man for nearly a year and was horny.

We were both widows, me at 40 and my daughter at 21, and we had both been celibate for nearly year, at least I know I had. My husband and son-in-law had both died in an auto accident while coming home from a fishing trip. Sharon didn’t know she was pregnant at the time. When she did find out, she moved back home.

The idea that began forming in my mind while I was searching for the breast pump was making me even more horny. I tried to think of anything else, mopping the floor, cleaning out the garage, going grocery shopping but my libido chased any traces sanity from my mind.

“I can’t find it, but I have an idea.” I said as my nipples hardened and my hands began to tingle. “ I can help you.”


“Well, I could….oh, forget it.”

“Forget what, Mother?”

“Oh God, was I really doing this…getting ready to break the incest taboo?” I was thinking. “Was I ready to give in to my incestuous desires? Was I ready to have a sexual relationship with my own child not knowing what the effect would be on our relationship?”

But the sexual tension of the last few months overrode rational thinking.

“Well…….” Afraid of her reaction but charging ahead anyway. “I can take your milk.”


“In my mouth.”

“MOTHER!….Have you lost your mind?

“No.” Assuming a take charge demeanor as I approached her, my legs beginning to turn to jelly, “Turn your chair to face me.” I commanded, hoping I didn’t lose my nerve.

Sharon obeyed without a word but there was a look of pure shock on her face. I got on my knees, my heart pounding in my ears, spread her legs, moved between them, reached up and bared her left breast.

“Mother! You can’t be serious. I can’t believe this.”

“Close your eyes. That might make it easier on you.”

As I gazed upon the beautiful, voluptuous objects of my shameless desire, my insides kaçak iddaa were trembling. Sharon took a deep breath as I took her left breast in my hands, amazed and seduced by the combined smell of perfume and baby powder…the smoothness of her young skin ….and the taboo of incest…and licked the little drop of milk from her swollen nipple. Her nipple immediately hardened and I heard her inhale as I took it between my lips. I knew in the back of my mind that I should stop immediately but I was so turned on that I didn’t care. The warm pleasant taste of her milk coupled with the feel of her hard nipple between my lips was intoxicating. After a few minutes of nursing, Sharon began to moan. When I held her nipple between my lips and pulled on it, she yelled, “GOD,” as she put both hands behind my head, arched her back and attempted to shove her whole breast in my mouth. Then I heard a snap and Sharon moved my lips to her right breast. Taking the right breast in my mouth while my right hand still squeezed the nipple of the other one, I sensed Sharon’s breathing increase as her hands pressed my mouth tighter against her tit and her ass began squirming on the chair seat.

Moving my mouth back to the left side again, while my left hand was pulling at the nipple on her right breast, I moved my right hand between Sharon’s cunt and the chair seat. It was hot and wet. As I moved the crotch of her panties aside and inserted one finger in her vagina, Sharon yelled, “OH, MY GOD” and scooted her ass to the edge of the chair. She felt so wet and warm and slippery…it was just incredible…totally different than touching myself….she was so turned on that she was writhing on my finger.

When I inserted a second finger, Sharon moved her hands to grip the sides of the chair, planted her feet on the floor, raised her ass off the seat and groaned loudly. “FUCK ME, MOM!…..PLEASE!… F…U…C…K ME!”

I was completely shameless by this time, inserting a third finger, pumping rapidly in and out of her cunt, attempting to match the driving force of her pelvis against my hand, trying to maintain contact with her swollen clit with my thumb, clamping her nipples with my hand and mouth, getting hotter myself as Sharon moaned, “FUCK ME!” , repeatedly, kaçak bahis each plea sounding more urgent than the last.

Finally, she went completely silent as her whole body became rigid, every muscle locked in place for a couple of seconds, then her thighs began to quiver. Then I felt it. The hot fluid surging from her vagina, flooding my already soaked hand, as she emitted a long sigh. I was so intoxicated by the smell of sex all around me that I moved down to get my first taste of my daughter’s pussy. It was heady, the smell of our sweat, the aroma of her cunt, as I lapped up all I could of the first love juice I had tasted in years.

When Sharon’s thighs quit quivering, she relaxed on the chair, apparently satisfied, but I wasn’t.

My own pussy was needing attention so bad that I spread the skirt of my robe, put my left hand on my pussy, threw my head back, closed my eyes and fucked myself to a quick, mind numbing climax while licking my daughter‘s juices from my right hand.

I still had my eyes closed, enjoying the aftermath of my orgasm when I heard the baby crying. Sharon jumped up immediately and went to take care of the baby and after a few moments I shakily got to my feet and went to my bathroom.

I sat on the commode for at least 30 minutes trembling from sheer delight, guilt and fear of what I had done with my only child. I finally showered, dressed and left the house without seeing Sharon.

I was gone most of the day, returning just in time to fix dinner. We were virtually silent through out the meal, only talking about the baby a couple of times.

Later that evening, I was propped up in bed, reading a book……well just looking at it really. My mind was busy reliving the episode in the kitchen and wondering what my daughter’s thoughts were when Sharon tapped on my door and said, “Mom, can I talk to you a minute?”

“Sure, honey, come on in.”

I moved over a little to give her room to sit on the edge of the bed. Needless to say I was extremely nervous. She had obviously just came from the shower as her hair was still damp and she was dressed in a terry cloth robe.

As she approached the bed, she opened the robe, let it slide to the floor at her feet, exhibiting her totally nude body, cupped her swollen breasts and with a little wicked smile on her lips, “I still can’t find my breast pump”.

“Oh, sweetie…come here…I can’t find mine either”.


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