How I Discovered My Fetish For Lactating Breasts
We lived in a large town deep in the southern part of India. My father worked in a bank and my mother maintained home. In about five months time I was about to turn fourteen. I was lonely and longing for mother’s love. My mother and father disliked me very much but loved my sister and brother. When I tried to hug my mother she pushed me away but showed her affection to my brother and sister. I strongly resented this bias. Quite often she lost her temper on me and beat me with a cane.
The time was eight in the evening and I was rushing to Mala’s house. The next three weeks I would be spending my school vacation with her. Mala and her husband Siva, a lorry driver lived two blocks away from our house. Mala is a 35-year-old married woman, mother of five children. Mala is buxom, attractive and motherly. She had a beautiful figure like that of a female statue found on the temple walls. Snake-hipped, big breasted, almond-shaped eyes kissable lips, are the common features of the statues.
Mala and Siva loved their children. Very seldom they shouted on them or beat them. I loved Mala dearly and harbored a secret wish to call her ‘mother.’ Like her children I too wanted to put my hands around her neck and hug her.
The day our school vacation started my mother gave me some money to buy sarsaparilla. It’s a concentrate and you add a spoonful to a mixture of iced water and freshly squeezed lime. Presto! It becomes a delicious drink. The next day we were to go on vacation. It was 5:30 in the evening. I slipped the bill in my trouser pocket. On the way to the groceries a cunning pickpocket engaged me in some silly talk and stole the bill. I realized at the market that my money was stolen. With fear in my heart and expecting a good thrashing from my mother I returned home. My expectation turned real. My mother took a thin cane and beat me. I tried to shield my body from the falling cane by lifting my both arms. I strongly resisted shedding tears to my parents caning and my suppressed emotion had a negative effect on them. When I did not cry she became more aggressive. Then suddenly somebody screamed and wrenched the cane from her hands. It was Mala who came in to inform my mother that her children had gone with Siva to her parent’s village and she too would be leaving early in the morning the next day. Mala was very angry with my mother for beating me. I stood in a corner thanking Mala in my heart for her timely intervention. After reprimanding my mother in strongest terms Mala said that she would take me with her to her village for the vacation. She informed that her husband has already left to her village with her children and she’s expected to leave tomorrow. Disgusted with my behavior my mother agreed to send me away with her. Mala packed my clothes and took it with her. Mala told me to come early to sleep, as we were to take the early morning bus. The next hour was torture. My mother kept repeating that I was lucky escaping more beating. An hour later my father came home and after listening to my mother’s complaint he agreed at once that I should not go on vacation with them but with Mala’s family. He gave some pocket money and told me to disappear. I said bye to them and ran all the way to her home.
Their house is a detached house and fenced off by a wall. It had three rooms and a kitchen. The house also contained a back door entrance and next to it laid a small shed containing garden and building construction implements. The large open space was dotted with lemon trees, two coconut trees, four mango trees, seven banana plants and well. A fresh water tap was close to the wall.
The door was ajar and I pushed it open. Just behind the door is the lavatory, and next to it is the bathroom. (In southern India most of the houses had lavatories just behind the main door. Those who clean the lavatories are known as ‘untouchables’ and they’re not permitted to come inside the house. It’s caste prejudice.) Hearing the door being pushed open, Mala opened the bathroom door slightly. Immediately the smell of soap hit my nose. Her hair had some droplets of water and a large towel was wrapped around her waist. I caught sight of the upper portion of her large breasts as she buttoned her bra. She smiled and said that she just finished her bath and I should go into her bedroom and change into my pajamas and get into the bed.
I stepped into the bedroom. It had a large bed, a shelf, mirror, two chairs, a table etc. I heard Mala bolting the front door. Expecting her in the bedroom within minutes I quickly changed into my pajamas. I do not wear briefs (underwear) under the pajamas when I sleep. My back was turned to the door and I was about to put on the shirt. Then I heard a loud gasp and “Oh, my God”. I turned around to look. It was Mala who said it. I was surprised to see Mala without her saree. She wore a blouse and a skirt that came to her knees. It is usual that women wear saree on top of the skirt. She tied the skirt right below her belly button exposing her navel. Then she held my shoulders and turned me around. I stood close facing the bed. She said ‘bend’ and I leaned forward holding the edge of the bed for support. She gently caressed my back saying, “It’s your mother?”
When my mother canned me, the cane left three long rashes across on my back.
“Does it hurt you, Kanna?” (Kanna is my nickname)
A moment later I felt her lips on the rashes and I gasped and I had erection. I was embarrassed as it showed under the pajamas.
“Let me apply some soothing balm,” she said and took out a small tin from the shelf. She gently rubbed the sticky balm and I instantly reacted with pain and said, “ah!”
She cursed my mother for being cruel.
I was starving for mother’s affection and her love brought tears to my eyes. I said: “I wish you’re my mother.”
“Why? Don’t you like her?”
“No, she always finds faults with me. My father also angry with me.”
“I know. I know.”
Then she leaned forward and I could feel the softness of her breasts on my back. She kissed my nape and said, “I like you.”
I could keep no more silent. I blurted out: “I wish you’re my mother.”
I was hurt at her laughter. I remained silent for a moment feeling the smoothness of her hand on my back. “Can I call you Emma?”
“Your mother would be angry,” she replied. A moment later she said: “You can call me when we are alone together.”
I was thrilled and said: “You’re my Emma.”
She paused a second and said: “Don’t think about your mom or home for the next three weeks.”
I lay down on the bed with my back to her. She went out, washed her hand to remove the greasy balm. She returned, switched off the main light, switched on the small bedroom light and lay down next to me and said, “Turn around. I don’t want the balm staining my blouse and skirt.”
I was thinking of her lovely slightly drooping plump breasts. I still had erection and I was embarrassed. Then I turned facing her.
She smiled at me, touched my cheek and kissed my forehead.
“You’re my Emma,” I said.
She smiled, threw her left hand over my head and pulled me closer to her breasts. My face was almost pressing her left breast.
I was emotionally in an awful state. I recollected how they laughed with their children, how she held her ten years old son in her hug.
I lifted my head and with my left hand I caressed her throat and her chin and rested it on her naked waist. A moment later I kissed her chin and said, “my Emma, Emma, I love you.”
Mala placed her right hand on my hip and pulled me closer. My erection touched her thighs.
I said, “Emma, I want to marry you.”
“Silly of you. I’m already married.”
“It doesn’t matter, I want to marry you.”
“Why can’t I marry you, Emma?”
“I have a husband.”
“I can also be your husband.” I pressed my head to her breast that was concealed in her blouse and bra.
“But you’re my son and son doesn’t marry mother.”
“But I want to be your son and husband,” I said and pressed into her.
A moment later she said: “Kanna, you’re pressing hard.”
She smiled. “I’ll leak if you press me hard. I’m full of milk.”
Mala is a lactating mother. About four months before Mala gave birth to a baby girl. She was sleeping peacefully in her crib next to our bed.
“Um,” I said I pressed my head once again.
“Whoop, see, what you have done,” she said and slightly pulled back and looked down at her blouse. True. Small wet patches appeared at the summits of her blouse. Then she sat up, unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. I too sat up. My erection in my pyjamas is clearly noticeable. The wet patches on the bra (it had a front opening) were much bigger in size. The dark black nipple was visible through the thin cotton la
“Let me go and change,” she said.
I was excited looking at the breast milk stains. A couple of times I had seen her large breasts exposed while nursing her baby. At those times I felt like lying down next to her and sucking at her milk filled breasts. I was in an awful condition staring at her big ****. I couldn’t speak properly and my tongue was dry. “Emma,” I said and put my right hand around her waist and rested my head on her naked left shoulder. I was shaking like an aspen.
I did not reply. My breath was heavy. She tried to move. “Emma, (means mother in Tamil) I whispered and waited a second. “I want to suck your breasts.” I managed to blurt out. It was a bold request. I knew she loved me and she won’t hit me. And at the most she’ll chide me.
I was feeling feverish and kissed her naked shoulder a couple of times. For moment she kept silent. When there was no reaction I boldly cupped her right breast with my left hand and said in a whisper: “Eamma.” She lifted her right hand and caressed my head.
When I tried to unhook her front opening bra she asked me to lie down. I fell back on the bed. She lay down and I threw my left leg on her hip and I was about to push my head into her breast.
“Wait,” she said and unhooked her bra. Her milk-swollen breasts were released. I gasped seeing her breasts. They were large and both nipples were wet.
I was breathing heavily. I said, “my emma,” and mouthed her left leaking nipple. Then I started sucking Mala’s **** hard, keeping my eyes closed. I nursed contentedly at the bursting breasts. Her milk was warm and sweet. I was showing her how awful I'd feel if she refuses to let me to nurse at her lactating boobs. I sucked both breasts harder and harder, swallowing her sweet *** milk greedily. She responded to my hard, sucking by heavy breathing and whispering, “slowly, Kanna, not so hard, my baby.”
My erection was touching her pubic. As I nursed I caressed her right breast, made circles around her wet sticky erect nipple. Two or three minutes later I released her breast and said, “Emma, I want suck your breasts every day,” and then leaned over her and took her right breast into my mouth. About a minute later I freed the breast and with no second thought I pulled down my pyjamas.
Then lay down and took the left breast once again into my mouth and at the same time I took her right hand and placed it on my erection. She caressed it and gasped. She whispered, “You’re no more a child.”
I went on sucking both breasts, and now and then squeezing them. Then I released the breast and sought her mouth. She was also in an erotic mood. She sucked my mouth and tongue. A moment later I said, “emma, I want you.”
Then I climbed on her and held her by her shoulders. I was breathing hard. Her lips were slightly parted and eyes were shut. My voice was shaky and nervous. I kissed her mouth and said: “My emma! emma!”
“You’re my mother. I want to nurse at your breasts.”
“Oh, my . . .”
“You’re my emma,” I said and lifted my hips.
She stared at me.
“Emma,” I said and kissed her. “I want to marry you.”
She moaned and protested.
I kissed her. “Emma, say you are my son.”
She whispered, “Raise a bit.”
I lifted my hips and she pulled her skirt up to her waist and I lowered. My erect **** was touching her moistened ****.
“Emma,” I said.
She took my erect **** and guided into her opening. I pushed slowly and said: “You’re my emma, you’re my emma, I want your milk.” Then I mouthed her left breast and began to suck her sweet milk. I was feeling feverish and moved rapidly inside her warm ****. Then something gushed out of my ****. I **********. It was an orgasamic ***********. Mala tightened her legs and hugged me. I went on saying “emma, emma!” Mala didn’t say a word but kept on caressing my back and head. About three or four minutes later I lifted my head and looked at her face. What a serene look she had. She smiled and I brought my lips to her mouth and she opened it. She caressed my cheek and said, “You’re also my baby.”
I withdrew my ****, rolled down and lay down next to her. Mala tried to get up but I pushed her back on the bed. I threw my left leg on her closed thighs and hugged her. As I played with her right breast, she whimpered. A minute or two later she wiped my sticky **** with her skirt. Surprisingly I regained my erection to her touch. Once again I mouthed her leaking breast.
As sucked her *** my left hand roamed all over her body. I caressed her stomach, thighs and her delicious vagina. A few minutes later, I climbed on her and said, “emma, I want to do it again.” She took my **** and guided it into her slippery ****. We had wonderful sex that night.
When I woke up next day (with wonderful erection) I was a bit confused finding myself in Mala’s room. Then I remembered everything. I didn’t find Mala next to me but her baby was sleeping peacefully in her cot. I got up, put on pyjamas, went to the bathroom and emptied my bladder. I washed my mouth, face, and came back and lay down. I heard her preparing some tea in the kitchen. I wanted to suck on her plump breasts and park my erect **** into her ****. I took off my pyjamas and covered myself with a bed sheet and called ‘Emma.’ A moment later she appeared in her skirt and bra. ‘Emma’ I said looking at her. She looked beautiful and erotic. She approached the bed slowly. She sat on the bed staring at me and not saying anything. I did not notice much of her nudity in the night. I pushed aside the bed sheet and said, ‘Emma’ and put my hands around her waist and said, “Emma, I want your milk’ and sought her mouth. She received my tongue and sucked for a minute. When she released me I was breathing heavily. I pressed my head tightly to her breasts and said, “I want to marry you.” When I didn’t receive any response I unbuttoned her bra and cupped her breasts. They were heavy with milk and when I applied pressure the milk sprayed. She lay down next to me and I slid down to her waist level and pulled her skirt up. I pushed back the sacred thread (that was around her neck - husbands tie at the time of marriage) to her behind. I threw my left leg on her hip and moved down to her chest level. She unhooked her bra and I clamped the erect nipple of her left breast between my hungry lips and began to suck. I sucked hard as she gasped for breath. Twice or thrice she asked me to slow down. Then without my prompting she took my **** caressed while I nursed. Now and then I took a ten second break, kissed her mouth saying, “My emma, I love you.” Then I went down, widened her thighs and kissed her delicious ****. (No one told me, but intuition led me to her ****) She sighed and placed her hand on my head. I went on licking and sucking her **** and repeatedly addressing her “emma, my emma!” I didn’t feel like leaving the spot. I sucked her **** as if it was her breast. Suddenly a change has taken place. A low muffle escaped from her throat and when I continued to lick, she shivered and her breathing became heavy. Her moaning became louder. A few minutes later she clamped my head between her thighs. Then streams of her warm milk ejected from her breasts and hit my back. She came whimpering. I moved forward and said, “emma.” She grabbed me and bit my ear. When I said, “Emma,” she instantly replied. “My baby, my baby.”
I mouthed her breast but she resisted said, “do it to emma.”
I was mad with desire. I mounted her and lifted my pelvis. She took the erect ****, rubbed it on her **** and pushed it. My heart rate increased. I felt delicious as I slipped into that warm, slippery tunnel. When she pinned me with her legs, I became emotional and in a matter of seconds tears filled my eyes. I ****** ‘my’ mom with fury. Her right breast was in my mouth sucking her warm, sweet milk when I ********** into her screaming, “emma, my emma!” She tightened her legs and hugged me. My tears stained her chest. We lay there silently for about two minutes.
I told her that I would marry her and I would remain her son and husband. Also I asked her permission to hug her, to unbutton her bra and suck her milk, lick her **** and kiss her mouth whenever I had the urge to do so. She agreed and told me to make sure that the door was bolted before I hugged her.
It was getting late for Mala to catch the bus. She hurriedly prepared my breakfast, lunch and dinner. (All three!) I was reluctant to leave her. While she prepared the food in the kitchen, I hugged her from behind and caressed her breasts, kissed her neck and sucked her earlobes. Every few minutes, I kept on repeating, “emma, I want milk! I want milk!”
I left her alone when she promised me to nurse me immediately on her return from her village. She urged me to eat my dosas (pancakes) but I could not. She changed into a new saree, bra and blouse. She kissed me on my mouth, (my left hand was on her breast) and said “See you in the evening.” NO. I could not leave her. I hugged her “emma, emma, come back soon.” I wanted to suck her breasts there and then but she laughed telling me that she would be back before 9 p.m. and I can do whatever I wanted to do with her. Once again she kissed me, took the baby and then left the house to her parent’s village. She locked the house in the front. After her departure I took bath, and wandered in the garden for about thirty minutes. The image of Mala’s sensuous body kept returning back in my mind and my penis never lost its erection. I went back to the bedroom and stared at the empty bed. Then I spotted something under the bed. It was a small basket, and in it I found Mala’s bra and blouse. It was the same bra that was stained with her milk. I had an instant erection by touching it. It smelled of her milk and I took off my pyjamas, wrapped her bra around my erect penis and lay down on the bed thinking of her. I fantasized about the things I’m going to do with her when she returns. I would wait until she places her baby in her bed and then I would remove her saree, and the blouse. I’ll kneel in front of her and kiss her ***** and then lick. Mala loved licking. I kissed the pillow repeatedly as if it was Mala’s face. Then I fell asleep. I do not know how long I slept. I got up, took a bath. I washed my penis thoroughly. Then I put on my pyjamas, and sat in the garden. I hated to think about my family. I was very angry with my parents. They never loved me and they denied love. How wonderful if I could marry Mala. I’m not jealous of her husband. We could come to a satisfactory arrangement with her husband. I could sleep with her three days and he can be with her for four days. I remembered telling her that she should always nurse her baby first and then she can offer the leftovers. I was longing for her and consulted the wall clock every few minutes. I could bear no more my solitude and I could not eat my lunch. Those ten hours were torture without Mala.
The time was half an hour past eight. Finally I heard the door being unlocked. I put on pyjamas and rushed to the door. Mala entered. Bolted the door and put a finger on her lip. The baby was asleep and I should not disturb her sleep. Mala brought the baby’s cot into the veranda and placed her in it. When she entered the bedroom I could stand no more. I rushed and hugged her from behind whimpering, “emma, emma,” and kissed her neck and her back a few times. Then I cupped her **** but could not speak to her properly as I was in a highly excited state. She sighed and then gently pushed my hands away. She turned and faced me. Without giving any warning I pulled her saree down. She was with her short skirt underneath. “Wait”, she said. “We don’t have to go to my parents. We’ll be together for the next three weeks.” I was overjoyed. “emma”, I said and touched her breasts. She pushed them away. “One more thing. You’ll not visit your friends when you’re staying with me.” I was listening and at the same time staring at her ****. A second later we both moved to the bed and as she lay down next to me, she said, “I’m bursting with milk.” I pulled my pyjamas down and she took off her blouse and bra. (This is the first time she took them off completely.) Her breasts were heavy and I sucked and sucked. I was horny and told her: “emma, I want you, please, emma.” I mounted her and she took my **** whispering, “my baby, my baby.” I pushed into her slippery **** and began to ****. I did not stop sucking milk from her breasts. I felt giddy out of pure joy. It was as if I was in a delirium as I approached climax. As I discharged into her I became emotional and started crying. “I don’t like my mom’, I don’t like my father.” She hugged me tightly whispering, “my baby, my son.” What a wonderful sex we had. It was worth waiting twelve hours! I lay down next to her and nursed at her leaking breasts like a small baby. She was in the height of her sexual excitement. “I knew you wanted to nurse at my breasts”, she said as she caressed my limp ****. When I regained my erection, I asked her: “emma, I want to have sex with you.” Mala knew I was madly in love with her. I buried my face between her legs and went on licking her *****. “My beautiful emma, my emma, I love you,” I said often. I spent more time licking, kissing before I slipped my restless **** into her. What a powerful ****** she had! That day she became my surrogate mother. Those twenty days living with Mala is unforgettable. I hated my clothes. I didn’t wear them when I was with her in the house. Whenever I licked her ***** I always said, “You’re my emma, you’re my mamma.” As a teenager I was highly sexed and mad for her ****. She was my first love and the most important thing is her understanding of my innocent desires. I don’t feel guilty.
Bathing together was a wonderful experience. She bathed me dressed in her bra and nothing else. During the bath I beg her to nurse me and allow me to kiss and eat her **** but she refuses. I plead her, beg her and try to feel her breasts. But she refuses and goes on applying soap, wash my erect penis and bathe me. The teasing goes on. Then I wash her ****. By the time bathing is finished we’re thoroughly aroused. After drying me with a towel she takes me to the bed and allows me to eat her. How delicious it was. Then when I move up, the front portion of her bra is already soaked in her milk. Sometimes a stream of milk hits when she opens the bra. Then I nurse at one breast taking care not to empty it completely. While ******* my mom I nurse at other breast. I ********* before I could empty them. I always had powerful ******* while sucking milk from the breasts. In the beginning I felt guilty for emptying her breasts that were meant for her baby. She laughed and said: “The more you suck, the more I produce. Anyway I produce a lot.” I don’t feel ashamed. She taught me licking, kissing and strangely how to nurse. I was a child as well as an adult. She had sexually satisfying life. We had sex on the floor, on the bed and standing. Even peeing became most pleasurable. Whenever I wanted to pee I asked Mala to help me. We both enter the lavatory and she’ll hug me from behind with one hand and with her right hand hold my erect ****. Then I pee. It was orgasmic. After cleaning my **** she leads me back into the room saying, “You’re a spoiled child.” I hug her pressing my **** into her body saying, “You’re my lovely emma. You gave birth to me.” Many times I found myself asking her to leave her husband and run away with me. Sometimes she cried. We gave each other pleasure. She never protested when I woke up in the middle of the night and requested her to nurse me or allow me to have sex with her.
Mala was worried. I was in love. She heard me calling for her in my sleep. In addition I loved her baby. Whenever her baby cried I took her in my arms and urged Mala to nurse her. She laughed at my reaction. I loved seeing her nursing the baby. On our second day she told me something that startled me. As I was slipping into her **** she said: “You should wear rubber when you do with other women.”
She did not reply but asked: “Do you like emma?”
“Emma, I love you.”
“Do you like emma’s milk?”
“Yes, emma.” I then mouthed her breast and sucked milk as I slowly ****** her. During these three days I learnt a lot about sex. Her whole demure personality changed when I just touched her ‘button’ with my tongue. She told me how much she enjoyed when sucked it. Her husband never put his mouth there! We were giving pleasure to each other. After *********** in her **** I rolled down.
After a minute she said: “You can make women pregnant. You should be careful.”
Then she taught me the secrets of ‘pregnancy’. I kissed her **** repeatedly when I learnt that babies exit through them. She stood up, spent about 30 minutes going through the boxes and baskets. Finally she fished out a foil and ripped it open. It was the first time I saw a condom. After the birth of her baby (I mean three months later) she has undergone sterilization. It means no fear of pregnancy. Her husband refused to undergo sterilization. He thought he would become impotent! I was very inquisitive when she mentioned other women. I asked her. She smiled coyly. I pulled her on the bed and squeezed her breasts. “Emma, I’m your son, tell me.” Then I placed my left hand and caressed her **** gently.
She gave a gasp. A second later she told something that surprised me. I was very much loved by three women. They often talked about me. Mala, Padma and Saroja. All are mothers. They were really cross at my parents for beating me and constantly criticizing me. As she said all these things I regained full erection. She took my **** in her hand and whispered: “You want to put this in Padma’s?” I gently inserted my middle figure into her moistened **** and said, “You’re my emma. I love you.” She closed her thighs imprisoning my hand between them “Don’t you want to suck Padma’s ****?” I removed my hand, licked the fingers and mounted her and placed my hands under her shoulders. She smiled and caressed my head. “You don’t reply” I was confused. I did not know what to reply. “Padma likes you. When she was pregnant with the child, she told me that she wished you could **** her.” I lifted but Mala did not open her thighs. “Emma, please, I want to have sex with you.” She shook her head. “Tell emma. Do you like Padma?” Padma is younger, with large, round full breasts. Like Mala’s her **** are also filled with milk. “I love you, emma. I want you.” Still she kept her thighs firmly locked. She shook her head. “Tomorrow”, she said caressing my head, “I’ll prepare meals early. Don’t come into the kitchen to feel my breasts or my body. You’re not going to have sex in the morning. You’ll bath alone. No crying will help. No milk either. Wear shorts and briefs under it. Padma will come at 10 O’clock. I’ll go to market to buy vegetables and eggs. I’ll not come back before noon. She’ll take off her blouse and will ask you to scratch her back. Don’t rush. Scratch her back for few minutes and move your hand to her side. If she doesn’t ob
“Emma,” I protested. She smiled at my impatience. “Understood?”
“Emma . . .”
“One more thing. Padma doesn’t know you’re having sex with me. You’ll not tell her.”
“Emma, I’ll tell no one.”
“Good,” she said and opened her thighs but not wide enough. I rolled down and crept down and placed my mouth on her *****. She widened and I began to lick and suck. Mala lifted her pelvis and twitched her body. A moment later she pressed my head and I continued with licking. A day before she pruned her pubic hair. “My emma, my emma,” I kept on saying while I licked and slurped her juice. After a while she went into spasm and pressed my head deep into her. I quickly moved up and Mala took my erect **** and pushed into her. “Emma,” I said and mouthed the leaking breast. A minute later I screamed. “Emma, my emma, emma.” She tightened her legs around my pelvis as I ********** into her. I had tears in my eyes when she whispered, “you’re my baby, you’re my son.” A few minutes later I rolled down. When I tried to put my hand around her waist she pushed it aside and asked me to sleep on the mat. When I refused she got up, unrolled a mat, placed a pillow on it and asked me to sleep on it. It was too much for me seeing her wonderful boobs hanging. I jumped from the bed and hugged her but she gently pushed me on the bed. The next morning I woke up with erection. When I tried to touch her she warned me. I had no alternative except to listen to her. I took bath, eat my breakfast, and feasted my eyes on my “emma” while she prepared food. Of course we conversed. It was on sex. She told about her husband, her parents and children. I was restless. I asked her repeatedly. “Are you my emma?” She always smiled. “You’re my baby. You’re my son.”