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Infirm (Ben Robertson x Devilla Roche)

Seeing that he is in pain, seeing that he is in need of his medicine, I try to soothe him the best way I can. I undo a few more buttons on my dress and pull my arms out. Then slowly I push my dress down to my waist. I can see it has a subduing effect on Ben so I continue. I pull my body forward and unclip my huge bra and throw that in the back seat along with my white gloves and my scarf. I pull Ben over toward me on the bench seat (my oh my he has lost quite a few pounds hasn’t he) and place my arm around his backside and curl him toward me.

With a smile on my face….
“Why don’t you come and relax your head on my chest. I’m sure that will relax you my dear,”

I forcibly push his head down to rest on the top of my right breast, but I do it gently…
“There Ben, just try to relax. Try not to think about your pain. The storm will blow over soon enough and I’ll get us home.”
 
She...she knows what she's doing to me. She knows that, in my pain, it's her body that I'm focusing on. She knows I've been looking at her legs and hips and chest for solace, for succor. She knows her appearance is dramatic, that I'm using it as an escape, a distraction from the pain.

But I'm not ready for it when she lowers her dress, when she unhooks her bra and bares her chest. My pain at this point has reduced me to a pile of bare nerves, and I'm acting on instinct when I start to stare, seeing them - her huge, white, swollen breasts - as my only source of relief.

So it is a mix of the fear of coming shame and the eager anticipation of sweet relief that grips me as she pulls me towards her, laying me on my back, and lays my face on her breast. I am suddenly also assaulted by the warmly moist, earthy smell of her rain-soaked body mingled with her floral perfume. I breathe her in and - as she begins to whisper to me - realize only now how hard I am...

"...Just try to relax..."
Click to expand...

The pelting rain outside has suddenly stopped. The moment becomes immediately quieter, though my pain still roars at me and now I'm fighting an erection uncomfortably straining in my slacks. Her hand holds my head at her chest, and I'm at first staring at the taut, white, vein-laced skin of her upper breast. I find the strength to turn my head up, to look at her gazing down on me, and somehow utter: "n-nooooo...pl-please..."
 
The rain retreats down to the eastern part of the sky and the sun begins to show itself again. I smile and then look at my husband who looks both feeble because of his pain and stong by resisting what seems to be the only answer to free him from such horrible pain.What is a good wife like me to do?

I smile and say with a soft utterrance…
“Ben oh Ben, why must you fight like this? You know that it is the right thing, yet you let certain emotions tell you otherwise.” In a mothering lilt to my voice, “Can’t you see that I only want what is best for you.”

It is now apparent that his body’s response is in the direct opposite of what he is thinking right now. The bulge in his pants is more than evident and it seems to be the only way to coax my husband into doing what is best for him and what I need for him to do.

Again with my lovely smile I turn on my devilish charms…
“Oh, well I know how I can get you to stop being so stubborn.”

I reach down and start by rubbing his pants, right at that bulge of his…
“I think that he knows what’s good for Ben.”

I unzip undo Ben’s belt and the clip of his trousers and slowly start to unzip. I feel through his boxers and there it is, nice and hard. He has such a beautiful penis. I begin to feel warm inside and my bosom seems to be more expansive. I can feel it grow slightly. My mind is abuzz and my mouth becomes dry and between my legs gets wet. I start to stroke his shaft and see that that is disarming much of his stubbornness already.

With a motherly wife sound….
“Ben, there’s no one in the park. Nobody here to see us. Nobody here to judge us.”
I continue to break him down with the handjob. Then I pull his head closer and closer to my nipple….

“It’s okay Benny, everything is going to be all right.”

I place his mouth over my right teat and watch him try to resist, try to fight it still and hope he does the right thing for himself.

And did I call him Benny? So cute sounding. I like it. I’m not so sure Ben will love it. I hope it doesn’t make him want to reprimand me in any way. It was just a slip of the tongue.
 
The clouds break. I watch the sunlight suddenly light up the car, its glow bathing her face as she gazes in love down at me. Even through my pain it's stirring. It's...heavenly.

My face is at her breast.

"...I only want what's best for you..."
Click to expand...

My eyes fall, once again, from her face to the firm flesh of her breast, the round swell upon which I rest my cheek. I stare as veins all but pulse under the surface of its milky skin, it is so full. It seems bigger than ever, smooth and taut. And just then I feel her hand feeling me between my legs, feeling my...nnnnggghhh...arousal. She's...oh no...she's unzipping me...

"...there’s no one in the park. Nobody here to see us. Nobody here to judge us...."
Click to expand...

I'm out of my pants; I feel the air around me and then her hand. Her hand begins to move, slowly, up and down my thick shaft. Walls are falling, my defenses gone. I need relief from my pain, and here it is. She's offering it to me, I can have it. Her breast swells under my cheek as she gently slides its smooth skin across my face.

"It’s okay Benny, everything is going to be all right..."
Click to expand...

<shiver>...She called me "Benny"...

The strength I've gathered from fighting my shame is suddenly smaller than my pain. My mouth opens, instinctively, as she turns my face towards her breast, into her nipple. I gasp, into her, breathing the scent of her skin in to me and I can't help myself - I begin to mouth her. I'm trying to keep from rutting into her hand and collapsing into her, from mashing my face into her breast and latching on like a nursling...but all I can do is weakly whine, and slowly approach, slowly start to lap at her, to kiss her swelling nipple...and then to take it in between lips, and then, opening wider...

I can taste the milk already...

There's no fighting, anymore. Her hand has me tamed, and I need what her breast has made. Clumsily I begin, struggling to start a flow, but with her encouragement I find a latch and it begins...
 
I look on as Ben retreats down the slope of my breasts. I’m guiding him with my hand, keeping some pressure on him, but he still clumsily makes his way to my teat. He opens his mouth just like a baby would. He is drawn toward it. I can see that he is learning that shame is not what is called for here. He needs to be without pain and my breast is the only vehicle for getting him there.

As Ben suckles, I can feel the flow of my milk leave my body. It is an incredible feeling; pumping my breasts does not even come close. It’s like the difference between meeting Jack Paar and Jack Kennedy, one’s a talk show host and the other the president of the United States. And, if you want to meet the president, Jack Paar just won’t do.

Ben suckles and suckles and suckles. I watch as he seems to get some sort of rhythm down as he sucks, draws out my milk, tastes the warm, sweet substance, and then swallows. I sit there with a sort of pride. I’ve never been more useful in my life. This is so right. It’s the feeling of motherhood, breastfeeding your baby. I know Ben is not my baby, but he’s making a fine surrogate.

All the while, I’m still jerking off his penis. It seems that I can feel it getting slightly larger. I can feel it stiffening. That means only one thing, its going to erupt at any moment.
 
I'm enjoying this more than I should.

The pain is...gone. I realize that almost as an afterthought. The feeling of her hand on my cock, my face against her breast, the whole feeling of being held by her like this - the moment had eclipsed my pain and now that I revisit it...it's gone.

But still, I suck, I suckle, because this is a dream.

This is a dream, a fantasy...something I've imagined, in my most private moments, all my life.

I squash my face into her flesh as I suck milk from her tit, indulging in the heady pleasure of the experience, even as at the same time I writhe in wrenching shame. Held in the arms of a bosomy, strong woman, being nursed like a infant by my wife as she jerks me off - it is both a dream and nightmare.

Her hand between my legs is gentle, slow, therapeutic - another way for her to distract me from my pain. But my pain is gone, and I do nothing to stop her. I am instead surrendering to her rhythm and letting her draw me closer and closer to....nnnnnggh....the climax I can feel approaching.

I suck milk, I groan in pleasure. I've had more than enough for a treatment but still I nurse. My eyes are closed, an attempt to remove part of myself from what's happening here. But I know that if I were to open them and look up I would see her gazing down on me with those eyes...those glimmering jewels that are at once both so different than those of the woman I married and yet absolutely the same as the girl with whom I fell in love.

I feel her love, I smell her love. Her love is all around me and it's smothering me. But i let myself sink, I sink into it. I nuzzle into her more and more and hear myself whining oh no stop it...stop it...I'm...I'm...

...I'm coming...

I come. I groan into her breast and I come. My hips buck up into her and the release is crippling...exhausting...pulse after pulse brings me closer...closer...closer...


...to sleep.
 
I look on and see that Ben seems to take on this different persona. It is interesting to watch as he digs in with his face and seems to like my breast a lot. It is a complete metamorphosis of my husband to I suppose my hubby-baby. It is oddly endearing to see. I love this complete change - in his attitude, watching how at ease he is, seeing that he is enjoying it, that he wants to be breastfed like this. It gives me such joy to know that I can give it to him and help save him from pain at the same time.

And the way he roots, the way he move himself - almost involuntary as he was coming. It all seemed so much like a baby, as if he was wanting to become one. Maybe hubby-baby is an apt description of Ben now. Maybe it is what he must do in order to have his treatments. I understand. I told him he can’t fight it. I told him that he must give in to it. I suppose he is doing just that whether he realizes it or not.

After Ben comes, I watch how he tires quickly and goes right to sleep. I move him back in his seat, then I reach for my purse and grab some tissues. I clean my hands and then do my best to clean off Ben’s now flaccid, but still lovely penis. I tap it with my hand and look at it longingly - a flash - wanting it inside me I suppose.

Then I do my best to get him dressed again, and get myself together. Once done with my gloves and my headkerchef, I reapply my lipstick, turn the key in ignition, and drive out of the park. Good, no one is around.

Once we get home I shake Ben on his shoulder…
“Come on Honey, we’re home. Let’s go inside.”

Nothing. He’s still asleep.

Oh no, a dilemma. How to et Ben in the house. Hmm. Well, he has lost some weight. He is shorter. Somehow after that feeding, I feel more alive than ever. Somehow I feel...stronger.

I make my way around the car, now in the garage, the garage door down. I go around the car, open Ben’s door and stoop down and get one arm around his back and one under his legs. With some effort, I pick him up, making sure he doesn’t hit his head. With some momentum, I move through the door and walk through the mudroom and then the kitchen. Finally, I make my way to the living room and I lay Ben’s body on the couch.

Needing a pillow and a blanket, I tend to both and make Ben nice and comfy. I look down at him and look on. He is sleeping like, what else, a baby.

I smile.
 
4 o’clock in the afternoon…..

Ben is still asleep on the living room sofa from ingesting his medicine or shall we say his maternal feeding. Milly has started dinner already. A chicken roaster is now prepped and being put in the oven. She has developed quite the appetite after every time she lactates from her breasts. Her lunch just didn’t quite do it and, with all the cleaning being done, Milly finds herself snacking, an unusual habit that she is now developing.

The phone suddenly rings….

In her now more maternal sounding voice….
“Oh I wonder who that can be.”

Picks up the receiver of the phone…
“Hello, Robertson residence.”

Mr. Alfred Billings, Ben’s boss…
“Milly, is that you?”

Milly: “Mr. Billings, yes its me. What can I do for you?”

Billings: Expecting the call to be handed off to Ben, he knows things aren’t good. “Milly, I take it that Ben is in dispose of at the moment?”

Milly: Staying very cheerful. “Why yes, he’s taking a nap.”

Billings: “Well, that’s all right. It’s you that I want to talk to anyway.” With a serious tone, “Look Milly, you know that I am very concerned about Ben’s health.”

Milly: “Yes, I know. You and Ed and Steve and Earl have been very understanding about his condition.”

Billings: “Why thank you Milly. Yes, well that’s what I wanted to talk about. We know he has been going through a lot. And, he’s been a trooper dragging himself in everyday like he does. Honestly, I don’t know what good it’s doing him. Listen Milly, I want you to tell him that he should take whatever time he needs recover from this thing he has, this dreaded disease. Tell him that me and the boys want him to come back when he feels healthy. Not like this. It doesn’t do anybody any good. And, it certainly doesn’t do him any good. Tell him to take a week, two weeks, even a month if he needs it. You got that Milly?”

Milly: “Yes, of course. That’s very charitable of you Mr. Billings. Ben is quite lucky to have such an understanding boss like you. ~pause, then tears~ I want you to know how much I consider myself to be so lucky to know someone like you. I will keep your thoughts in my prayers.”

Billings: “Thanks Milly. That’s awfully kind of you.” Tries to get Milly’s spirit up, “Listen, you do whatever you can to get that man better. Bake him that rhubarb pie of yours, Make sure he gets his beer. Whatever makes him feel better. You promise?”

Milly: Smiles, “Yes, Mr. Billings, I promise.”

Billings: “Take care now Milly.”

Milly: “So long Mr. Billings.”

Billings: ~hangs up~

Milly puts down the phone and walks over to Ben...she bends over forward at the knees, her bountiful bosom fighting to come out of her bra and dress as she kisses Ben on his head….
 
I wake halfway, groggily, hearing her on the phone, part way through a conversation. Is she talking with my boss..?

I wake the rest of the way, finally, feeling her lips on my forehead. Am I on the couch? How did I get here..?

I open my eyes, blearily, to the sight of what I'd just been dreaming of - a view down her top. My mind swims in confusion. Oh my god...what's happening..? What did I just do..?
 
I see Ben is looking down there. He seems to be fixated on them a lot lately. I can tell. I woman has a sense about these things. It’s like Ben is fixated because he really does want to breastfeed from me even though he says other wise. Look at him, half asleep and does he look at my face? No. No he peers down my bosom instead. Now, I could just pull them away, but maybe I will allow him to keep staring.

I smile....and fix his pillow allowing my boobs to jiggle….

In a very loving tone…and prattling on endlessly….
“Darling, how are you feeling? You’ve been sleeping for hours. I’ve started dinner already. I’m absolutely famished. It must be from driving earlier, oh and I had to get you of the car before. You were sleeping so hard after your feeding that I couldn’t get you up. I had to lift you up out of the car and carry you myself. And I did it Ben! Imagine that? ~waves my hand in a gesture~ I guess I’m stronger these days with all my eating. ~I continue to straighten his pillow bobbing his head up and down closer towards my bosom~ Oh, I suppose it may have something to do with what the doctors’ did to me. Oh dear, I’m talking too much. Oh Ben, you know how I can have those bimbo moments. ~I wave my finger at him like a mother toward her son~ Next time stop me Ben from making a fool out of myself.”

I smell something in the kitchen….
“Oh, that’s the roasted chicken. It must be done.”

I get up and with the click-clack of my heels I make my way into the kitchen and tend to dinner...
 
"I-I-I'm feeling fuh-fine..." I answer, flushing red even as I'm still half-groggy from my nap, "m-much b-better, thanks..." She's bent over to where I lay and does she know she has them right in front of my face?

God her tits are huge. I mean, Milly always had great tits....big ones. They always filled out the top of this dress, a halter style with a pattern of bright yellow flowers on a white background, really nicely. But now...she barely fits in it. Her new breasts bubble over the top of the bodice like bread dough. Even just the jiggling upper swells, which bulge over her scooped neckline as she leans in - they're ripe with flesh and show the milky veins just under the surface of her skin. Veins that announce how...god I flush even more...how full she is, how swollen with milk she's become.

She's talking to me, like a mother hen telling me how long I've slept, that she's started dinner. If she does know what my view is like - that she has me staring into her cleavage as she's prattling on - she's not paying it any mind, apparently. Or...is she doing this on purpose? No...not Milly, right?

Oh, man...what am I letting her do? She's fluffing the pillow behind my head, moving me even closer to her chest as it jiggles and swells and I can't help feeling like I want to...like I want to do what we did earlier today...god, man, stop it. Grow some backbone!

But it is totally distracting me from what she's saying...

"...oh and I had to get you of the car before....I couldn’t get you up. I had to lift you...and carry you myself..."
Click to expand...

Wait, what?

"...And I did it Ben! Imagine that..? I guess I’m stronger these days...I suppose it may have something to do with what the doctors’ did to me...."
Click to expand...

I'm aghast, thinking of my wife lifting me from our car, carrying me into the house. Did our neighbors see? And...how?

I realize I'm hard again, and when I look at her as she backs away a bit - boobs still high and proud on her chest, nearly squeezed up to her neck in this dress - I realize the strength in her bare, beautiful shoulders, her strong arms. That excites me even more. She was a swimmer, at one time, but had softened over the years. Now, though...

She heads back into the kitchen to finish dinner, and the sight of her breasts in my face has put me in a state where I actually consider jerking off, right here, under this thin blanket she's covered me with. She's put some fancy cocktail napkins right in the endtable there, in the drawer....I could use those...

No, Ben Robertson, no! What's wrong with you! You have to...you have to pull yourself together, man! You...you need to...

...you need to get your mind off her tits. You need to stop fantasizing about nursing off of her. You need to be a man and act like one with your wife.

Let her finish dinner. I'll try to eat it.
 
I put out the roasted chicken with all the trimmings...the table is set, water is in the glasses...everything looks so good and I’m starving...I call Ben in…

“Ben honey, come to dinner,” I shout out from the dining room. “You’ve got to keep your strength up,” I say in a mothering tone.

As Ben slowly makes his way to dinner…

“I made some asparagus, corn on the cob, and mashed sweet potatoes, and I even brought out one of your faves, some leftover rhubarb pie that I had made a while back. I heated it up. Doesn’t it all look so yummy, Ben?”

I watch as he takes his seat...I smile, trying to not fixate on how he feels.

I clasp my hands together…
“Let’s give our thanks.” I bow and close my eyes, “Bless us oh Lord for these thy gifts that we are about to receive, from thee thy bounty. Through Christ, oh Lord. Amen.”

I begin to load my plate with large quantities of everything….

We eat.

I seem to be shoveling it in. It’s not like me, but I seem to do it anyway...I become somewhat apologetic about it…

“Ben, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into me. I know that I’m filling in, in some places. And that’s making me hungry, but I should be more civilized, yet somehow I’m eating like a starved woman. Again, I’m sorry.”

I look over at him….he’s barely put food on his plate. Where is he looking? Not at my face. He’s not paying attention to a word I say. Is he looking at my bosom? I smile. Hmm, he wants some of what I have. I know he loved feeding from me. Oh, that’s so special. Well, maybe I’ll give him something more to look at.

I nonchalantly unhook the strap behind my neck and let down my dress, just a bit. My boobs peer out even more than they already do, as if my cup had runneth over. I continue to eat as if nothing was happening.

~chomping away at my chicken and sweet potatoes~

“I’m glad you’re all right now Ben. You know how I worry about you honey.”

~I continue to eat ravenously, while I do, my bosom pops out even more as the bodice of my dress pushes downward little by little by little~

I stop eating...Ben is definitely looking at my bosom. No doubt. And he is not touching his food at all. I wipe my mouth with my napkin and get up from my chair…

I smile as I approach him….then I stand next to him….he is still fixated, like a child…

In a low, calm tone, with a lilt of sexiness to it…
“Ben darling, I know what you want. I know what you need. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

I pull down the bodice of my dress until it drapes over my hips...I work my bra from behind it and unclip it...then I let the clip go...my tits blow open and practically slap Ben in the face….I giggle….they are huge….filled with as much milk as they were earlier in the day...I place my hand behind his head…

“Ben, I know what you need. You’re hungry and this is what you would rather have. It’s okay, the chicken won’t go to waist. I’ll eat for the both of us. You need your nourishment. Don’t argue, don’t get embarrassed. Just do as I say.”

With that I take his head and press his mouth right into my right teat….
 
I spent the whole time at the table trying not to get caught. Trying not to get caught glancing, looking, staring at her breasts, at the bosomy flesh overflowing the top of her dress. Even as she prayed, with eyes closed...

“Bless us oh Lord for these thy gifts that we are about to receive, from thee thy bounty.”
Click to expand...

Even then - as she's talking to God for us - I took the chance to stare, marveling at the depth of her cleavage, at the white creamy flesh rising and falling over her neckline with each breath. God's bounty indeed...

Or when she was eating, eating, eating...god, enough for both of us...I took any chance I got to watch her jiggles. Jesus that dress: so pretty in its pattern but it's not the flowers I'm looking at. It's so tight, so tight...I'm sure she feels it too, as she distractedly plays with the hem of the bodice, the shoulder straps as she eats.

It must be very tight. It must make it sort of hard to breathe. How must it feel to be so big, constricted like th-

Oh god what's she doing?

She's undone her shoulder straps, they fall to her sides. More flesh of her tits burps over the neckline as the dress falls just a bit. Good lord...did she do that because she's...filling up? Her breasts look so big and turgidly swollen it must be oh Christ...milk, filling her up again..

I look down at my food and it's totally unappetizing I can barely bring myself to take a bite. I would rather...I would rather...

I grab another look, another peek at her, as more and more of her chest is exposed as she eats, chatting to me all the while nonchalantly. I take a sip of water, looking over the rim of my glass at her cleavage...

...and keep my eyes on her, my lips on the glass, as she stands. As she stands and puts her napkin down on her chair. As she stands and walks around the table to me, to stand next to me. To stand next to me and lower the glass from my lips, help me guide it back down to the table...

"Ben darling, I know what you want. I know what you need. It’s okay. I’m here for you..."
Click to expand...

...and then she slowly peels down the dress, from the front, revealing her chest in a big, strapless bra. A Maidenform, baby pink satin with strong supports. My mouth is hanging open, I know it is, and I can barely struggle in surprise: "H-H-Honey...? Wh-wh-what are you d-"

But her hands are behind her back, and she unclips, and suddenly her huge breasts are there, in my face. She giggles. A hand is behind my head...

"“Ben, I know what you need....it’s okay, the chicken won’t go to waste. I’ll eat for the both of us...."
Click to expand...

Holy god, holy shit...what is she saying?

"You need your nourishment...
Click to expand...
"

And then my face is on her tit, she's trying to breastfeed me right here...

N-n-no!

"Mmmmph!" I manage, and slide my face away from her, "M-Milly, please, n-no..." I stammer, my voice sounding too weak, too unsure of itself. I sit back, as best as I can, and look up at her. She seems...surprised, I guess...pouty? Her lower lip is out. "I...I'm not sure...I..." My voice struggles and shakes. I don't know what I want to say. "I can't...I-I d-don't want...:

But I do want, I do want

I drop my gaze again to her breasts. She's now got both hands behind my head and uses her upper arms to gently squeeze her huge, pale breasts together in front of my face.

"Oh, god...Milly..."

She tilts my head forward and my temple comes to rest on her bosom. I breathe in, smelling her, gazing into the darkness and feeling her warmth. She hushes me as I almost start to sob and then she releases me...and drops to her knees.

Her eyes up, looking into mine, she begins to undo the fly of my pants. My mouth hangs open, and I ask "Wuh...what are you d-doing?" but I know exactly what she's doing and I raise my hips to help, as she lowers my pants and boxers, down to my knees and then down to my ankles.

My cock is, already, hard and waiting for her. It's been hard all dinner and now stands upright, as I sit akimbo in our old dining room chair. She takes it in her hands, her breasts again gathered in her arms and surging up between them, a voluptuous backdrop for me to stare at.

And then her mouth is on me...

oh...Christ...
 
With my pink Maidenform still in my left hand, I take it as I'm sucking on Ben's head, seemingly licking and rolling my tongue...I pull away for a moment and a spontaneous idea comes into my head...I begin to wrap his shaft in the softness of my bra...knowing that he will feel the sensation of the satiny material will weaken him...Ben needs to know what is good for him...if being pleasured is the way to break him down, to make him get past this blockage in his brain of how I can help save his life, well then as God as my witness, I'm going to do it, no matter how seedy it seems...

Now with my hands around the bra, I gently move it slightly up and down his shaft...I look at my handiwork and then look up at Ben...I can see it is working, I can see he is responding...he's practically melting in the chair and I smile...

In a sort of half-wife half mothering tone I say...
"How does that feel Benny? Does that feel better? I know how much you love my bras. I know how you have one of my bras hidden away when your alone."

~stroke, stroke, stroke~

And I continue, with a smile looking at Ben...
"Is this what you do with my bra Ben?"

~stroke, stroke, stroke~
 
no.

no no no.

oh my god no.

The state she has me in, the magic of her mouth and the awe-inspiring view of her breasts as her hands work my cock with her soft bra, it's like a spell. I'm not myself, I have no control. I'm almost ready to tell her anything, almost ready to give in to it all. But...but I can't...I can't...it's too humiliating...

"Wuh-wh-what are y-you talking about..?" I stammer, feeling the blood rush to my face..."I-I d-don't..."
 
"You know very well what I'm talking about Benny."

~stroke, stroke, stroke - with the satiny bra~

"It won't do you any good to lie, you might as well tell me."

~stroke, stroke, stroke~

"Or, is it that it is true as I know it to be and what you are afraid of is admitting it out loud?"

I smile, trying to give him a sense of comfort...

~stroke, stroke, stroke~

"Or Benny, are you shameful of some other things that you don't want me to know?"

~stroke, stroke, stroke~

I can see in his face, not only is he ready to come, but he is breaking down, I know....

"You want my milk. You want to suck on my breast. I KNOW that is what you're thinking. Don't hold back Benny. Say it. Say you want it."

~stroke, stroke, stroke~
 
Oh god I can't I can't I can't.

I can't admit this, I can't admit any of this.

She knows, though. She totally knows. She knows about the bra, the bra of hers that I've hid, that I use to jerk off into. She knows how obsessed I am with her breasts. And - oh, Jesus - she knows that I...that I...

Oh god, I can't.

What will happen, what will happen if I tell her? If I say "yes"? If I say "yes yes yes...your husband is no better than a horny teenage boy. Your husband is no better than a needy toddler. He worships and needs your breasts like he's your infant. He wants nothing more than for you to hold him in your arms and..."

I shouldn't even think it. I can't do that, I can't...

but oh god that bra, her hands on me, her tits...that smile.

"H-honey...pl-please, no..." I stammer, weakly, passively letting her have her way. "please d-don't..."

please do....
 
~stroke, stroke, stroke - my bra - now harder and faster~

"Ben, you know how much I love you and you know how much I care for you. And, you certainly know how much I have given of myself to you and I do so willingly and with all my love.~

~stroke, stroke, stroke - harder and faster~

My smile turns to an impatient anger...
"But, I can only deal with so much. Are you leaving me with very little choice. Am I to treat you like a child! I can do that if it needs to come down to that, my dear!!"

~stroke, stroke, stroke - continuing harder and faster~

"I'll ask one last time, don't force me to feed you. Say it!!! Say if for nothing else, say it to show that you want to keep yourself alive!"

~stroke, stroke, stroke - EVEN harder and faster~

My boobs at this point are shaking up and down, the bra moving with such speed up and down his shaft....so purposeful...trying to get to an end...trying to get my husband to admit who he really is...
 
Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I...I can't...I can't believe this...

I haven't been talked to like this by a woman...scolded like this...since my own m-m-muuth....

"I can only deal with so much..."
Click to expand...

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck...

I'm gonna come...

"...leaving me with very little choice..."
Click to expand...

The green fire in her eyes, the seething anger, the impatience with me...it's all fueling it, fueling it...and then...she says it...

"Am I to treat you like a child? I can do that if it needs to come down to that, my dear..."
Click to expand...

oh godddd....

Her hands, her bra, her breasts, her voice, her eyes...images of what it could be, what it could be like, me and her...

I can't do it...I can't hold back the want any more...

"Yes...yes...yes..." I moan, the defeat of humiliation in my voice as my climax rears and surges finally to surface, "...treat me like your baby..."
 
I look on as Ben ejaculates like I had never seem before...threads of come hit my large boobs, my neck, and face...it gets on the bra, of course and on him too...the chair can't escape being soiled upon and neither can the floor...

With all that mess, my anger turns to certain joy...there has been a breakthrough, an acceptance that this is the way to save himself...allow me to mother him, so that he can be fed his nourishment the correct way, allowing me to be the vessel that saves his life....

I open Ben legs and push myself off the floor, pulling Ben into me for a firm embrace, my boobs squishing into his body, me smiling...
"There, there Benny. It's going to be all right. Mommy's going to take wonderful care of you."

Then I think to myself, this can be so fulfilling...my prayers have been answered.
 
oh no... I can't stop from thinking, as she pulls me into her jism-covered chest, what have I done...?!?

Even the shock, the anxiety and the fear that flood into me can't, though, keep me from my body's natural reaction...I start to tire, quickly...I feel myself fading, even as she pulls me closer into her bosom. Even as my own sticky wetness is plastered onto my face, the briny smell of it assaulting me. what have I done.. I lament, as my eyes fall heavy, shutting themselves....what have i done..

...

When I wake, groggily, I'm in our bed. How did I get here? Did she - good god, another indignity - lift and carry me here? I'm naked, and I feel scrubbed clean. I smell soap. The room is darkened, just light coming in from the hallway. I know I'm alone...and i feel the pain in my bones...

I know I'm alone...and I know I'm hungry...
 
In the kitchen, I clean the rest of the pots and pans and smile. I believe I've finally convinced him. Oh, I know it is embarrassing to him, but he knows it will save his life. Now he needs to understand how this whole situation is fulfilling me. I pampered him as a wife, but doing so in a mothering fashion takes on a whole new meaning. And, I think he forgets that although I can help out with the pain, I can't help with his shrinking body. That is yet to be seen where he will stop.

I know he is going to fight me on this, but I think his frame of mind has to be changed. If I can accept him to drink my milk directly from my nipples like I have, maybe there are other things he will slowly accept the idea of calling me 'mommy.' I think it is just such a natural progression. Besides, the more he thinks of me as his mommy, the more I can do for him, given his sickness. And, the more I can do, the more fulfilled as a woman I can be.

One step at a time Milly Robertson. One step at a time.

**********

I go to our bedroom intent to feed my husband...

I walk in, my dress in tact. As I slowly approach Ben, I unzip my dress, pull it down in the darkness and remove my enormous bra. Each breast is quite full and the need to have my milk drawn out is a must. I love this relationship we now have. Ben needs my milk and I need to get rid of my milk. I smile, my dress half on and I take a seat next to Ben.

I open my arms and with all sincerity and with a motherly sounding tone...
"Come here Benny, its time for your feeding."
 
jesus christ...I think, as I look at her - arms reached out, lovingly, towards me - it's come to this...

I know that, if I go to her, the way she wants me, that I'm lost. I'll be giving up my role as husband and provider and man of the house and be accepting this new role as...as...I don't even know what it'd be, but I can't have it be me.

I know that...I know that I have to say something, to explain something, to tell her that I'm not a weak, sniveling infant. That I've not been reduced to that, by this disease. I need to explain myself, explain what I meant when I said it:

"yes, yes...treat me like your baby..."
Click to expand...

"H-Honey..." I start, propping myself up on my elbows in bed, naked as the day i was born, looking at her above me, arms still outstretched, "when I said that, earlier, about wanting to be treated like a...like a..."

I can barely say it, I'm struggling to form the word. I close my eyes, I center myself, I take a deep breath. And I continue.

"...like a baby, I m-meant th-th..." I'm still fighting, fighting everything in myself that I've learned, that I've been taught, on how to be a man. "...I meant that, well, uh...during sex, I sometimes....I sometimes have these thoughts..."
 
I smile, almost laughingly, and look at Ben with all sincerity...
"Oh, Benny I fully understand. It's okay to want to feel like that when we have sex. Just let me care for you. That's all I ask."

I place my arm around Ben and sit him up...
"Like this, what I'm doing right now, don't resist Benny. It's all right. You must let me do it."

He doesn't resist...

"That's a good start."

I pull his face toward mine...and place my hand on his cock...then I kiss him on the lips....I then break the kiss and, in a whisper...
"Remember how much I love you and want to take care of you."

I bring his face to my left breast, close to my big, puffy areolae...

With a smile...
"Come now Benny, your hungry, you need your strength. And you need to have the pain go away."

I slowly wrap my fingers around his penis and feel it growing....
 
Passively, I let her do this all to me. I let her sit me up. I let her take my cock in her hand. I let her kiss me.

Passive. I'm being passive. Letting go. Letting her will overpower mine. I'm being passive, and it's thrilling.

My cock responds - this is such a turn on, her confidence - and I let her bring me to her breast. I whine, my last, half-hearted show of protest, as she moves me towards her nipple. Then I freeze - I do nothing. Her hand has slowly started to massage my cock, bringing it to full erection.

I wait. And I stare at her nipple. I slowly let my mouth open, but I wait.

Passively, I want her to do this too.
 
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