Page 142 of Yearn
She slid her hand down, tentative at first, then bolder once she found the sheer thickness straining against my wet slacks. “Oh. You’ve made a mess for Mommy? Do I have to lick it up?”
Oh fuck. She’s ruining me.
Heat radiated from my body, the fabric doing nothing to hide how hard I was. When her palm traced the ridge of my shaft, I swore my cock nearly split the seams.
Precum had already embarrassingly soaked through, spreading a dark patch, and her touch smeared it deeper into the cloth until it clung wetly to me. “You’re leaking through your pants like a perverted little boy. What am I going to do with you?”
I dragged my mouth from her nipples. “Stroke me, Mommy.”
“Oh.” She moaned, showing me that our dirty talk was fucking her up too, shoving her right off the edge.
“God,” she stroked up and down over the thick, long outline of me, her thumb circling the swollen head through the barrier of my pants. “You’re so hard, but you’ve been so naughty. I’m going to make you beg to fuck me.”
Her filthy truth broke me open.
My cock jerked under her palm.
She whimpered.
I groaned into her nipple, sucking harder, saliva slicking her. The sensation doubled me over inside—her hand milking me through my slacks while her breasts fed my obsession straight into my bloodstream.
I should have started fucking her right then, but I still had a mission.
I wasn’t just sucking.
I was initiating.
Inducing.
Teaching her ducts, alveoli, and sinuses the lesson I already knew—with enough persistence, she’d flow for me.
Her nipples weren’t just flesh—they were levers. Switches I alone could pull to flood her body with milk, desire, surrender. And when that first drop came, it wouldn’t be milk. It would be proof she had become mine completely.
One day, her breasts would leak at just the sight of me, conditioned like Pavlov’s dogs.
One day, I’d drink from her until my stomach clenched with fullness.
And the idea of it—her warm milk sliding over my tongue, her breasts swollen with supply meant only for me—made more precum leak.
Then she moved my head from her breasts.
I groaned in annoyance. “Why are you stopping me?”
“Because I want to fuck you so bad I’m about to explode.”
“Mmmm.” My mouth curved into a dark, cruel smile. “You want this cock, Mommy?”
“Yes.”
“But you said I would have to beg.”
And to my shock, she didn’t respond with words. Instead, she put her hands on my shoulders and twisted under me fast and with sharp, practiced torque, rolled us over.
What the fuck?! How did she get us to roll over?!
My back hit the mattress.
The ceiling swung.
