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I had all the time known I suppose but just could never bring myself to act upon it. In my pre-teens I couldn’t take my eyes off the girls developing faster than me or those just a few years older whose breast were close to those of women. As I learned to pleasure myself and masturbate to orgasm I’d sneak into my dad’s secret drawer and discover the dirty magazines of full breasted women and all the time lingered especially long over the same pages he had already stained sticky. Good taste runs in the family I suppose.

But even knowing what wetted me in every way, it was ingrained in me through society and religion of the time that girls/women should only properly be with boys/men. As a result, I never uttered a word about where my thoughts, fantasies, and orgasm went. Sure there was the one or two times in school where I kissed other girls. But what were drunken dares for them only unlocked the shameful need to masturbate my lesbian wants into hidden submission.

And so I resigned myself to a hetero life of dating, marriage, and motherhood that would last well beyond the time it should have. But the needs and cravings were all the time there. Sometimes even stronger than ever. After birthing both my daughters I found breastfeeding to be intensely erotic. I came more than a few times when they nursed, sometimes just from the act itself, and all the time needed to masturbate to intense orgasms afterwards. While most moms I knew stopped breastfeeding there kids by 2, I kept mine going for double that plus a bit, so great was my need for stimulation. Sure, I could justify my “decision” through all kinds of medical “literature” but deep down I knew what I was doing and why. I am, and all the time have been, a “tit girl.”

My daughters are grown now and off to school. I loved the years of their high college friends coming to and from the house. Seeing how their breasts developed over the years. I loved masturbating quickly when they were in the house or closing my eyes when my husband fucked me and cumming to the image of their maturing tits.

After my younger went off to school I realized I could no longer keep living the lie. I divorced my husband and began my hunt for women who craved women like I did. More so, women who craved tits like I did. My first experiments and playmates were other divorcees and even some married women whose lives mirrored mine and had all the time hidden their true desires. I came hard from all these and lived finding myself but it wasn’t until I connected with a newly widowed mother to be that I truly found the answer to the jumble of confused emotions and needs my body and soul had been craving forever.

Maeve was 25 years old, only 3 years older than my oldest daughter and 5 years beyond my younger. Despite that, she had lived quite a life so far. Married at 22 to her school boyfriend who had been in ROTC and joined the Marines after graduation. She became pregnant just before her 25th birthday and four months later her was killed by an IED in Afghanistan. I came across her two months later, at the 6 month mark of her pregnancy, just beginning after two months of mourning to try and seek something outward for all the pain that was within.

We were at the grocery store, just randomly in the same aisle, and as soon as I saw her I became wet and my nipples stiffened. There is nothing sexier to me than a young pregnant mother with full tits and mine ache back at the memory in Pavlovian fashion as soon as I see one. Maeve was more gorgeous than most but I could sense the emptiness. She was staring at the shelf in front of here but still staring into nothingness. And without even realizing I was there she began to cry. Not just cry, but weep, and sigh, and heave; to the point where I wondered she would collapse. I ran to her, maternal problem trumping all else, and held her up as I asked if she was ok. Soothing her, asking what the trouble was. She came out of it almost immediately, realizing where she was and seemingly embarrassed. She tried to say she was fine and that she just needed air, so I offered to walk her outside.

We made it to the car and we talked but I couldn’t take my eyes off her full and swollen tits. I learned all the above and suggested she come over for a cup of tea, telling her she was close to my own daughters ages, and that I lived just around the corner. She agreed and when we got there I settled her on the couch while I made the tea. Once back, and served, she broke down again, this time nearly inconsolable. I put my arms around her, pulled her in tight, and before I knew it was caressing her back and body as I took in the scent of her hair against me. She sobbed and heaved and I only brought her in tighter and for some reason the words I’d been longing to say forever in a sexual sense finally came out….”It’s ok baby, Mommy’s got you. Everything will be ok. Just let Mommy make you feel better.”

She looked up at me, wet eyed and doe eyed and moved to say something but nothing came out. And instead I kissed her. Fully and hard and she kissed me back the same way. Our clothes flew off, all but panties, and I began to nurse her swollen breasts and encouraged her to do the same to mine. We both orgasmed from it and then moved to unwrap each other’s swollen pussies. Hers was puffy from the pregnancy and I ate and fingered get to an huge squirt. From there I straddled her face and had her eat me as I massaged her swollen tits. I gushed all over her as she too released from the breast massage. Breathless, we lay there, both basking in the glow.

“I have an idea,” I told her. “Why don’t you move in here for the next three months until you have the baby. You obviously need caring for and I obviously need to care for someone. I know it’s sudden, but it just feels right.”

“But, I don’t even know your name,” Maeve said.

“It’s Mommy. Just call me Mommy. And now Mommy’s got you and everything will be ok. Just let Mommy take care of you.”

NSFW: yes

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