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17 Ocak 2023, 16:41
?Mommy???Hmm. Yes, Muffin???I have a stiffy.?*?You always have a stiffy, Muffin.? I couldn?t focus on the alarm clock. ?What time is it, Michael??*?I dunno.?*The digits got less fuzzy when I squinted?4:12. ?You couldn't wait? We have to get up soon anyway to go to work.?*?It's really stiff,? he whined.*I sighed. How could I say no, especially after all of the time, the years, that I had devoted to getting us here? ?Okay, Muffin. Lick Mommy wet first and clean up when you're done.? His little smile registered before my lids floated down, making it worth it. Michael spit between my butt cheeks and licked. Like any boy, he did the bare minimum but that was fine, I was too sleepy to care.*?Muffin? If Mommy falls back asleep, remember she loves you.? I would never, though.*?I wuf oo too mummy.? Michael climbed on my back and pricked my butthole with his unremarkable penis. I looked over my shoulder and watched his tushy flutter like hummingbird wings. He huff-huff-huffed like he does when he's close to cumming, and then let loose with a tenor moan. A few seconds afterward, he rolled to his side of the bed.*?I said to clean up, Muffin.? My boy giggled, busted, and lapped his seedy gift out of my ass. ?It?s your turn to make the coffee when we get up, Michael.?*~~~*The coffee was good. I paused to straighten Michael?s tie as we rushed past each other, making up for the time we lost when we overslept. None of the other supervisors wore ties but Michael needed its help to bolster his authority. He was only twenty-three and slight in build and stature. A beard might have helped but I had that ugly thing burned away years ago.*We lived two lives. His life as a grown-up was make-believe. In real life, he was my boy.*I was ashamed of my feelings for Michael, my boarder of almost five years, the boy next door whom I had cared for. I was ten when he was born, and by the time I was twelve, I often looked after him when his parents wanted to be away or wanted him to be away. His mother was a bit of a cold fish, as they say, and his father, well, there?s no other way to put this: he was an asshole.*When my mommy and daddy moved, I bought the house that I grew up in. I quickly took Michael in when his parents kicked him out right after he graduated from high school. I didn?t expect to be so excited when he moved in, as if it was meant to be.*I think that he was happier too. He wasn't expected to be an adult all the time and he loved that I always had a juice istanbul travesti (https://www.istanbullife.info) box ready for him, the same ones that he liked when he was littler.*I gave him my old bedroom right next to my parents? room, which I had taken, and set up a playroom for him in the basement where he could set up his model trains.*One night during that first week, on my way to the bathroom, I heard an almost inaudible moan. Peeking in Michael?s room, I caught him with his back arched and a handful of tissues in his crotch. I ducked away, finished my business, and returned to my bed.*Most of my dolls were in storage but a few special ones were nearby, including a life-size baby doll with its mouth forever parted for its bottle. I lifted one of my generous breasts and fed her my plump nipple. We rocked as we thought about what I saw.*Boys are so messy. Boys masturbate and there aren?t many ways to stop that. At least he had tissues and I could check what he did with those later. I had not considered that when I invited him to live here?not that I should have.*The following night, I listened from the hallway, just in case. I heard him quietly sobbing then and hesitated for only a second before knocking and letting myself in. ?Michael, is everything alright??*?Did I wake you? I?m sorry, it?s nothing.?*It was obviously something. I sat next to him and stroked his hair. ?You didn?t wake me. I don?t like seeing you sad.?*He told me that he was scared about what he'd be doing now that he was out of school.*Scooching up a little, I laid his head on my lap and looked down into his eyes. I told him not to be scared, and lowered my gown?s straps, cradling his head and feeding him a teat. ?Hush, now; take my breast. That's right.? I told him we'd figure things out together and rocked my boy to sleep.*I had never comforted anyone like that, not really. My maternal instincts had been aroused and I liked them. I wasn?t actually his mother. I was his friend, the kind of friend who rarely thought of him as a boy and was more than capable of ignoring the outline of his penis, draped by insubstantial bedclothes.*I ignored it then, I did, but thought of it later as I lay staring at the ceiling. My hand had wandered unbidden under my panties. Of course, my boy had a penis. A fine young man such as himself must have a fine one, I imagined.*Might he touch it while thinking of my pussy? Why wouldn?t he, a boy think of a woman? I wasn?t his mother, although I could be.*Masturbating istanbul travestileri (https://www.istanbullife.info) belied my maternal instincts. My fingers and psyche loved him differently but they loved him equally. I am a woman; I ought to be his mother! I had no choice but to imagine my boy?s cock ramming his mommy?s wicked cunt.*I felt a connection. He would play with himself; I was sure of it. He would play and think of me as a woman and as a mother; there was no reason I couldn?t be both for him. He wanted to fuck his mommy as badly as I wanted to fuck my son. Oh, God, I admitted it! I was sick in the head but unburdened because I was finally honest with myself.**My wrist hurt by the time I finished. I had another.*All that I wanted afterwards was to make him dependent on me. I was ten years older; I knew things. I knew better. ?Shh, my boy. Let the grown-ups worry about that,? I?d say. What I hadn?t expected was that as I got older, he refused to age himself?mightily and disturbingly. He embraced his juvenile role, exaggerated and enriched it.*Michael somehow sensed the sordidness of my soul and stroked it. I didn?t know his soul no matter how much I loved him; my heart cared but my cunt didn?t. All I knew was that I wanted my little boy and Michael handed himself to me.*~~~*We accomplished so much during that first, uncommonly heated summer?only three short months but long enough to set the groundwork to guide and mother him.*Without air conditioning, I was persistently, casually underdressed and undressed, and encouraged Michael to do the same.*?I feel weird about this, Pauline, being naked in front of each other.?*?Let your inner child out, Michael! You must have loved to run around bare-assed when you were little. Everybody did. My family did it all the time,? I lied. "I?m surprised that your family didn?t.? His penis was as pretty as I had imagined. It wasn?t brutish or intrusive, even when it stood up, as thin and slight as Michael himself.*He was embarrassed at first when it arose but I?d tease it with a tug as if it was nothing. ?Let?s call it your ?pee-pee,? okay? That?s such a fun word, isn?t it? Say it with me. Come on??*He giggled. ?Pee-pee.?*I gave it another playful pull. ?See?? I memorized all of his pee-pee's moods: shy, bold, high, low, chubby, stubby.**Michael and I played nude in our backyard, running under the sprinkler and skimming along the Slip-n-Slide. My breasts were not built for running and jumping but I travesti istanbul (https://www.istanbullife.info) endured for my boy.*I looked after his delicate skin with tubes and tubes of the best, highest SPF sunscreen to keep him as white as winter. ?Stand still! We don?t want your pee-pee to get burned.?**He applied lotion on me as well?the store brand (mommies made sacrifices).*?Gee, Pauline, I?m using more lotion on your chest than you used on my entire body.?*?Boobies.?*?Huh??*?Boobies. Call them boobies.?*Later, we showered together afterwards to remove the sweat and lotion.*?Your pee-pee always seems excited,? I mentioned, indifferently. Michael was cute, still sheepish about his penis.*?I?m sorry, Pauline. I can't help it.?*?You never have to apologize to me for anything, ever, Muffin.? I meant that, too. If he ever felt like he had to hide anything from me, I would never get the chance to correct it. Ours was a very open relationship unless I needed to protect him. His safety always came first.*I turned him from me, pressed my boobies against his shoulders, and reached around. He stuttered and muttered something as I jerked him. I thrust my hips behind him and his body matched my rhythm until he stiffened and unstiffened, discharging his unwholesome man-cream.*Copious amounts of body wash removed the evidence. His limp pee-pee shyly intermingled with my fingers, clean, inside and out. Showering together, never alone, became the norm after time.*I was ?Aunt Pauline? by the end of the summer and ?Mommy? by the end of the year. That was when we moved his toys out of the basement to his bedroom cum playroom and we moved him into my bed.*Just because he shared my bed didn't mean we had sex. He wasn't ready yet.**Michael had never been a man to a girl, I was sure of it. I, myself, only had insignificant lovers: minor ones and friends of the family who were more interested in fathering me than they were in my nurturing nature. I was grateful for them only because I learned right from wrong?right ways from wrong ways.*I decided that it was my purpose to teach Michael. After all, a mother?s job is to help her boy grow up when he?s ready. A mother?s job is to know when he?s ready. He would stay seventeen as long as it takes. And he would wait as long as I take.*~~~*Our bodies were never off limits to each other; self-discipline was for grown-ups. We were watching television, sitting on the loveseat, when my muffin hiked my skirt up and poked around my panties.*?Can I help you??*?I wanna see your pussy up close.?*?Manners??*?May I see your pussy up close, please??*I told him he may as I stripped my white cotton briefs. He pet and gently tugged the tuft above my sex, then traced a finger along and around my exposed labia.*