Momma Pie

>“Nonnapuss!”
>You groan and roll your eyes even as a pair of arms descends around your neck.
>Going limp, you allow the squealing woman behind you to wrap you up and snuggle you against her chest.
>The warm sensation of her cheek against the top of your head, it’s almost enough to make you smile.
>Almost
>Forcing a scowl, you continue to try and ignore the rather pleasant sensation of her breasts rubbing into the back of your head.
>It’s not right after all.
>You’re twelve.
>She’s thirty
>For the third time.
>And worse?
>She’s your Mom.
>Satisfied that you now stink of confectioners sugar, Pinkie Pie bounces around and pinches your cheeks, the ever present smile dancing across her lips.
>“Oh Nonny, I missed you so much!”
>With a sigh, you roll your eyes and pick up your bag.
“C’mon, it was just a weekend camping trip, Mom; I wasn’t even gone two whole days.”
>Not one to be deterred, Pinkie bends over at the waist and puts her nose even with yours.
>“Oh? Only two days?”
>A small grin slides across her lips as she leans in and hugs you again.
>“My little boy’s getting so grown up! Pretty soon you’ll be gone for weeks at a time like it’s nothing!”
>Off to the side, you can see a couple of your friends chuckling.
>In between checking out your Mom’s backside.
>You shoot them a glare, for which you’re not sure.
>It doesn’t really matter though.
>Pinkie’s quick to hustle you back to the car, so much so that you barely even get a chance to say goodbye.
>The drive home is thankfully short, between the bubble-gum air freshener, the bubble-gum shampoo scent of your Mom’s hair, and the bubble-gum song on the radio, you’re about to pop.
>Mom peppers you with questions, of course; not that there’s too much to say.
>You went out in the woods, had a good time, and then came back.
>It was a nice change of pace though.

>So you mostly go through the motions of nodding, grunting, and answering in incomplete sentences when prompted.
>All you really want to do is get home and take a shower.
>Like any good pre-teen.
>With an otherwise uneventful ride behind you, the two of you arrive at the small house.
>Dad’s… somewhere.
>Mom said he’d be back someday, but the two of you do all right on your own, just like you always have.
>Baker’s hours are a little weird, and Mom always wakes you up before she goes to work, but she’s always there when you get home in the afternoon too.
>It’s really irritating.
>But kinda nice too.
>Still, you huff and scowl your way into the house and go to unpack your things.
>Pinkie says something about getting dinner ready and you grunt.
“Yeah, thanks Mom.”
>Dragging your tired tail upstairs, you toss the backpack onto the bed before flopping down on top of it.
>It takes a good two or three minutes of talking to yourself before you finally work up the strength to stand again.
>You dump your backpack out on the bed, fishing around for your toiletries when there’s a quick knock at your door.
>Of course.
>Mom.
>Putting on your scowl, you turn to try and scare her off.
>But the words die in your throat.
>Pinkie bites her lip and winks.
>“Welcome home, baby boy.”
>She pushes her chest out proudly, her blatantly bare breasts bouncing beautifully before settling back on her chest.
>You gulp, taking a step back and falling onto the bed again.
>Something jabs you in the leg, but the quiet pain is muted by your topless Mother swinging her hips as she walks towards you.
>The motion sends a smooth jiggle through her entire body, including the slight bit of pudge centered around her belly.
“M-Mom”
>You gasp, eyes wide as she stops two steps away from you.
>Cocking one hand onto her hip, the blue-eyed beauty smirks at you.
>“Mm, what’s the matter, sweetie?”
“Wh-why are you…?”
>The words trail off into nothing as your eyes settle on her nipples.
>Compared to the rest of her peachy pink skin, the large reddish nubs sit slightly off center, pointing downward, as though carrying an invisible weight.
>Your mouth goes dry as Pinkie giggles.
>“Oh come on, you shouldn’t ask that.”
>Her usual teasing tone comes out more like a precocious purr this time.
>Your Mother takes another step forward.
>“After all, it’s been two whole days since you had a drink.”
>Despite your best intentions, when you gulp, you can hear it echo off the walls of your room.
>Still, you struggle to a seated position and try to look put off.
“I…I don’t need a drink. I’m fine.”
>If your Mother’s hurt, she sure doesn’t let it show.
>Still smiling, she takes another step closer.
>She’s well within grabbing range at this point, and you can smell the sugary sweet scent of her body lotion all but rolling off of her.
>“Aw, don’t be like that, baby.”
>Ugh.
>A-again with that ob… obnoxious cooing.
>“I know you’re just cranky because you haven’t slept well all weekend.”
>She’s right, sleeping on the ground sucked.
>But you’d never tell her that.
>Crossing your arms over your chest, you try to look perturbed.
“Mom, I don’t-”
>Pinkie gasps, causing your spine to lock up.
>The frizzy haired MILF grins down at you, eagerly tugging on one of her nipples.
>As a pale blue-white droplet begins to seep out from the skin, you shiver.
>“You don’t want, baby?”
>Pinkie purrs.
>“You don’t need Momma’s milk?”
>The other hand joins the first as your Mother begins alternating pulling on her plump teats in a milking motion.
>“You don’t miss the taste of it?”
>A thin sheen of sweat breaks out across your forehead as you grunt.
“No.”

>Squeezing her thick thighs together through her shorts, Pinkie sighs and begins tugging more enthusiastically.
>“You don’t miss burying your head in my chest and blocking out the world.”
>Words fail you, but you can still manage to shake your head.
>Well, it’s more of a wobble, but your Mom gets the idea.
>That’s when she hefts one of her breasts up, the flesh spilling out over her palm as she jiggles it at you.
>“So you’re just going to leave me until I’m so full I pop? I can’t even fit in my biggest bras right now, you know, there’s just so much mi-Ooh!”
>Pinkie laughs as you lunge at her breast, a gentle coo escaping her lips as she closes her eyes and strokes the back of your head.
>“There’s my hungry little boy. See, Momma knows exactly what you needed.”
>Your face goes hot with embarrassment as you find yourself stuck to her nipple.
>Again.
>But this taste, it’s become so familiar by this point.
>It was so strange going without it.
>And the way her fingers tangle in your hair…
>The quiet words of encouragement…
>You sigh, suckling gently as she drags the back of her nail along your cheek.
>“That’s it, good boy; make sure you drink it all.”
>Even though you can already feel the milk hitting your stomach, you nod and return your attention to her breasts.
>Despite your attentive suckling, they don’t seem to be getting any smaller.
>She must really be full.
>When you come up for air again, your Mother clears off a space on the bed and sits.
>You lay out across her lap, your head now swimming in the candy sweet scent of her body, and the slick, milky taste filling your mouth.
>At some point, Pinkie switches you to her other teat.
>You’re not sure why, but you don’t put up a fight.
>It’s so much easier just to suckle away and listen to her tell you what a good boy you are.
>Listen to Mom tell you how happy you make her.
>How much you love her breasts
>How much you love nursing from her.
>…
>…
>…

>“Nonnapuss!”
>You sigh, rolling over onto your side.
>Three in the morning.
>Again.
>You sit up in your bed and rub at your eyes.
>It’s been two months since you went on your camping trip.
>Pinkie’s gotten even more clingy.
>She really doesn’t want to let you out of her sight
>It’s kind of obnoxious.
>Still, you stumble down to the kitchen and find your Mother dressed in an apron and working over the stove.
>Grinning, she looks back at you
>“Hey grouchy gus! Breakfast will be ready in ten!”
>You grunt, sitting down at the table.
>As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you feel you’re a hand rest against your knees.
>Looking up, you see your mother propping herself up against you, while lifting her shirt with the other.
>“Naughty boy.”
>She teases with a coy smile.
>“You made my milfy melons so big from all your attention.”
>You can practically feel your eyes dilate as they focus in on her thick nipples.
>“And I can’t buy a new one until the end of the month.”
>Reaching out, you grasp one of her breasts and pull your head up to it.
>A delighted giggle erupts out of your Mother’s mouth.
>“Mm, and you don’t even care, do you?”
>Should you?
>Bigger breasts meant more milk.
>You grumble some kind of response, but your Mother’s gentle touch sends shivers down your spine
>“Shh, just drink, baby. Drink until you’re full.”
>With ease, you fall back into the familiar pattern of nursing.
>Even at this early hour, everything is right with the world.
>Why would you ever want to fight this?




>The walk to school isn’t an especially long one; you could probably make it in five or ten minutes.
>But, it doesn’t really account for the detour.
>It isn’t necessary, and even if it was you’d never admit it, but even still you fell yourself drawn to the same place every morning at a little before eight.
>The trip puts you about twice as far, but if you time it right, you’ll make it to school before the second bell rings to start the day.
>So, as you have every day for the past several weeks, you push the door open and sigh as the bell chimes overhead.
>From behind the crowd of people, a familiar fuzz of pink frizz pops into your line of sight.
>“Nonny!”
>Pinkie’s squeal is enough to part the crowd of bodies, and she wastes no time hurrying around to the other side and wrapping her arms around you.
“Morning, Mom.”
>With a delighted laugh, Pinkie clutches you tight against her plush thirty-something body.
>Even with your face is all but buried in your Mom’s chest, you can still feel the hate-filled glares of every man in the bakery.
>It’s a good feel.
>When she finally lets you up for air, your Mother turns and calls over her shoulder.
>“Mr. Cake, I’m taking my break now!”
>There’s an affirmative grunt from somewhere beyond the wall before a tall, gangly sort of man struts out and begins helping the much less enthusiastic customers.
>With a happy giggle, Pinkie tugs you towards the break room on the second floor.
>Same as every morning.
>The Cakes live in a loft above the bakery, so they’ve managed to convert part of it into a space for their workers to put their feet up and be away from the hustle and bustle down below.
>You’re grateful once again for that as your mother sits you down and begins doting on you.

>“You are such a sweetie, Sweetie.”
>She laughs, trying to finger comb a few unruly hairs on top of your head into submission.
>“Every day you come by to visit me; it makes me feel all warm inside.”
“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t really see each other in the morning otherwise.”
>Even as you huff and try to appear disinterested, your Mother chuckles and hugs your head again, undoing all of her hard work in the process
>“Oh, come on you Grumpy Lumpy, you can say you miss your Momma, she won’t judge!”
>You feel a little off balance as the sweet scent surrounding your Mother invades your nostrils.
>The supple softness is incredibly inviting, encouraging you to lay your head down for a little while and forget all your troubles.
>With a surge of independent spirit, you reach up and gain a little leverage to push yourself away from the heavenly warmth of her breasts.
“Aw, c’mon Mom; you’re acting all mushy. It’s weird.”
>To her credit, your mother easily stays on her feet, her smile still standing out firm even as her tone drops into something a little more serious.
>“Non-non, I’m you’re Mother, I think I’m allowed to be a little mushy with my sweet baby boy.”
>You cross your arms over your chest and avert your eyes.
“C’mon, I’m almost thirteen. It’s embarrassing.”
>“Is it?”
>The almost flat line of her lips, coupled with the moderately cold tone of Pinkie’s voice causes a shiver to run up your spine, drawing your attention back to her.
>She gives a gentle sigh and finally frowns.
>“Anonymous, you’re my bouncing baby boy, and I love you. What’s wrong with me being a little expressive about it?”
>At first, you don’t really understand, but after a moment it becomes clear.
>There, at the hem of her shirt, you can see a thin line of her ever so slightly pudgy tummy.
>And it’s becoming more exposed by the second.

>Your mouth goes dry as your Mother lifts her shirt, baring her braless breasts to the world, with a smile that could light up the night sky following in short order.
>“It seems to me,”
>She says with a smirk.
>“-that you could use a little lovey-dovey time with Momma.”
>This isn’t especially unusual.
>Every day, you end up in this position.
>And even though you act like it’s no big deal, the idea of going to school without a bellyful of your Mother’s milk is beginning to become somewhat unnerving.
>Not that you’d admit it.
>But, at least prior to today, Pinkie always fed you in secret.
>Today, she didn’t even bother to secure the door.
>At any moment, one of the Cakes could come up and see her exposing herself to you.
>A terrifying thrill runs through your body, but before you can stand up, your Mother plops herself down into your lap.
>“There we go!”
>She giggles, grinding her backside into your thighs.
>“Now you’re nice and comfy, right?”
>Not exactly.
>Your Mother isn’t a large woman, but years of working in the bakery have given her a fuller figure than she boasted in her youth.
>The weight of her body is quickly making your legs go numb which, in consideration, may be exactly what she wants.
>Hefting one of her heavy breasts to your lips, Pinkie offers the nipple to you and in a friendly, but commanding tone orders:
>“Drink.”
>And so, with little recourse, and even less resistance, you open your mouth and begin to suckle.
>Pinkie purrs, biting her lower lip and pushing her chest more firmly against your face.
>“Ooh, that’s it baby. Drink all the milk from Mommy’s breasts. You need it after all, if you want to grow big and strong.”
>How irritating, you think as the milk rushes over your tongue and down your throat, causing your stomach to flip in excitement.

>Every bit of your brain that’s not frustrated at your predicament is firing of small sparks of pleasure, and they’re quickly overwhelming any negative feelings you have towards your Mother.
>Of course, it doesn’t help that as you’re draining her breasts, Pinkie’s begun to shift her thighs back and forth.
>The soft, inviting warmth of her legs is causing your body to react in an uncomfortable way.
>N-not like you hadn’t popped a boner before when milking your Mother, but this, this feels different.
>And from the glint in your Mother’s eyes, perhaps she thinks so too.
>Cradling your head in her hand, Pinkie whispers to you.
>“See? Momma’s milk is already helping her little baby to grow up strong.”
>Flexing her left leg, Pinkie slides her plump thigh over your erection, coaxing it between her legs.
>You struggle to gasp for air, but she refuses to let your head go, instead opting to rub her thighs together around the tip of your captured dick.
“Momma’s boy is so big and hard, what a good little boy.”
>Her cooing baby-talk brings a rush of heat to your face, but any attempt to string together an insult falls apart as Pinkie continues to tease you with her thighs.
>“Momma knows you’re trying to be tough, but you need to remember that you’re still little and need me to take care of you.”
>As if on cue, her legs tighten, burying your boner in a vice grip of supple flesh.
>While you furiously gulp down her milk, Pinkie leans closer and whispers in your ear:
>“Let Momma take care of this too, okay?”
>Bringing her free hand down, she places it between your legs and touches the tip of your penis.
>You feel all the tension in your body release in an instant, your already futile struggles coming to an abrupt halt as you cream your pants.
>With a delighted laugh, Pinkie continues to tease your penis with her thighs and finger, murmuring soft words to you.
>“Good boy, go ahead and cum for Momma. Don't think about anything else”

>A lazy haze fills your mind as you feel yourself drifting away.
>It’s a good fifteen minutes before you snap back to reality.
>Pinkie, her chest significantly less swollen, is pulling up her hair and offers you a smile.
>“Oh good, my baby boy’s back. You had me worried I wouldn’t get to say goodbye before you had to head off.”
“Wh-”
>You try to form words, but your mouth is still sticky and dry, your tongue bloated leaving you unable to speak coherently.
>Your Mother walks over and places a hand on your cheek.
>“What happened? Well, after you made a mess of your undershorts, you went to town on your Momma’s breasts. If I’d known you would be that enthusiastic while coming down, I would have started doing this months ago.”
>Your underwear?
>You lean back in your chair, lifting up the waist of your pants.
>“Oh, don’t worry about that.”
>Pinkie giggles.
>“I took them off so you wouldn’t have a nasty wet spot on you all day. I’ll just hold onto these as wash them when I get home.”
>She waves them at you, teasingly before helping you to your feet and giving you a gentle push towards the door.
>“Now, hurry up and go to school, or you’ll be late.”
>School… right…
>As you stumble towards the stairs, your Mother calls after you again.
>“And Anon?”
>You turn, blushing as you see Pinkie cupping her chest again.
>“Don’t be so difficult for your after school feeding, okay?”
>Without another word, you hurry down the stairs.
>Despite your eagerness to leave, a small part of you laments that the feeding is over.
>And another shivers at the coy, knowing smile on your Mother’s lips that follows you all the way to school…