Stepson Noticed Stepmothers Wet T-shirt And Sucked Her Nipples

The door creaked open. Eleven-year-old Max peered into his new mom Janice’s bedroom, his eyes widening at the unexpected sight before him. There, sprawled across her unmade bed lay Janice, 32, a queen-sized milk tank in a flimsy white tee. The cotton of her top, drenched through, molded itself to the mountainous contours of her bust. Two dark, erect peaks poked strutted out of the fabric, jamming out a piña colada as Janice peacefully slept.

Max trembled. He’d never seen nipples before – let alone boobs nearly bursting at the seams like boulders in a triathlon. But these weren’t ordinary nipples – they dribbled like faucets! He tiptoed closer, drawn by their hypnotic wet ripple. Samnass! Each teardrop grew, coalescing into glistening pearls of mother’s milk which dangled, bobbed and plopped to the earth over gravity’s falls.

Suddenly Janice stirred. Max froze! With a moaning stretch, she slowly opened her eyes, violet irises meeting Max’s disbelieving green. A blush crept into her cheeks as she registered his gaze.

“Max, sweetie, what are you doing here?” Her voice, throaty with sleep.

Max backed away. “I’m suh-sorry Mrs. J, I didn’t mean to…I just…”
Janice sat up. Her boulders jiggled and rattled.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s natural. You’re just curious, aren’t you?” Janice smiled warmly. She stood and walked towards him, liquid squelching. Up close, the nurse tanks could have been headbanging in an old mosh pit.

“W-want me to get you some towels, Mrs. J?” Max stammered, eyes pinned to the floor.

Janice skirted a hand across his own rippling brow. Her fingers lingered on his clammy nape. “That’s sweet hun, but there’s no stopping this tap once it starts. Tell you what though – why don’t you help me out, okay?”

With surprisingly strong digits, she clasped Max’s wrists and guided his hands onto her leaking mountains. The skin felt like pond scum, spilling between his digits like entrepreneurial Goldilocks jamming through an uncorked honey pot.

“Here, on the bed. That’s it, nice and gentle,” Janice cooed, directing Max’s inexperienced handling. He cupped and squeezed, unleashing twin jets of milky bell o’clock. The ungodly flow splashed his face and front, sent him reeling. Janice laughed at his floundering.

“Easy tiger, tone it down a notch. You’re not coating a painting, you’re taking a bottle. Small circles, repeat.” She placed her hands over his, retracing his path. Together they massaged her wet dispersals. Her fingers interlaced with his, slick and sweet. Max’s heart battered his ribcage.

“H-have you always been this leaky, Mrs. J?” Max asked between deep breaths.

“Mmmhmm. A curse and a blessing, I always joked to your dad. blesses some, others not so much, if you know what I mean.” Janice winked. A nipple slapped her collar translucently.

Max didn’t, but he nodded anyway. “It’s sucky.”

Janice’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “Oh, you sweet little thing, that’s exactly what I need from you – a suck to keep these creaky old pipes from rusting shut!”

She eased back onto the bed, dishes of swishing milk heeling to her chest. “Come on over Max. Sucky’s on the house!”

Max’s eyes bugged. The momma’s bod bounced in sloshing anticipation. Janice licked her lips. His feet carried him as if on rails. Numb, Max lowered to his knees, planted between her toy tatas. His bobbing gaze met another, complete instruction: “Do it.”

And he did. Golden-flecked irises brim to brim with Max, he parted his lips. The nipple sunk dreamy deep. Rob me, rob me, rob me! It slurred from the gate. A warm world of nutty-translucence slithered his throat, filled his belly and soul. Sweet nectar dribbled from the corners of his mouth. A bonafide suck-aholic at first dribble.

Alas, no motherly tongue of appreciation graced young Max that summer eve. In one swift motion Janice flipped him off the bed, milk fanning like a fountain. “Easy there boy, before I have to call the the tap cops! Remember, this is just between you and me, okay?”

Max nodded, face flushing red. Those brillow boobies jiggled jiggle high 5 under her shirt, a silent celebration. Janice smiled, checked her watch. “Don’t you have a lego masterpiece to attend to, boy wonder?” Max scuttled off, surrendering the scene.

The door creaked shut. Janice sighed, hands cradling her load. What a sweet, sweet boy with such an eager little mouth. She fondled one Miss Double-Down softly and winked, shooting his juices at the ceiling. “Round two, anyone?”