Nursing In Front of My In-Laws

Relationships between a parent and a child are complicated. But in-law relationships are just plain weird. There’s all this assumed instant intimacy of “the family” without any long history of actual intimacy. If I’d met my husband’s dad first, maybe I would have fallen for him. And to him, I’m kind of just a hot babe his son brought home, not actually any kind of “daughter”. Andrew, my Dad, looks at any of his daughters, maybe thinks “Wow, she’s a beautiful woman, my daughter,” and then immediately remembers she’s forbidden. My husband’s dad looks at me and thinks, “Damn, my son beat me to that one.”

Long way to say the three men in my life look at me, and treat me, in different ways. I’ve danced with all of them, and the three men hold me differently. Dancing with my husband it is the normal cheek-to-cheek, pelvises allowed to touch, lips whispering in ears. Dancing with my dad is a bit stiff and formal – Andrew keeps me just an inch away, properly, no pelvic touching. In my father’s arms, yes, but not in his embrace, if you get my point. And with Thomas it’s some strange in-between thing, and one minute I’m a proper inch apart and the next moment our bodies are touching – and then they’re not. Until they do again. Sometimes Thomas gets hard, and I can feel that.

During my pregnancy, as I swelled, both my own father and my in-law started perving on me just a tiny bit. Like with their eyes. I want to say they were eye-fucking me, but that way overstates it. They just looked a lot, and enjoyed it too much. Nothing happened, of course, but they both found my fecund state highly arousing. Much larger (for me) breasts, weight on hips. Loose, comfortable dresses with low necklines.

After the birth of our son, the household seemed to revolve around my breasts. I’m not making a dirty joke, I mean really everything became about lactation. Is the baby “latching” properly on a nipple or not? How are her nipples? Good milk flow? Time to feed. Now time to pump. Storage of pumped milk, freezer overflowing with frozen pumped milk. Take breast pump literally everywhere. Where can I plug in my pump? My breasts are swollen, or leaking, or dry. Breast, breast, breast.

Then there’s the other thing – they’re not exactly my breasts anymore. They perform an essential community service. Dozens of times a day I haul one or the other out of the nursing bra and give a boob to baby. Then the other one. They really belong to him now; I carry them around, sure, but for his use. And oh yeah, the boobs come out in public, too, when needed. Half the town has seen my breasts, I think. Husband driving car, me nursing baby, guy in next car staring and drooling. Restaurant staff, fellow mall shoppers. Whispers: “Simon, look over there what that woman is doing.”

I’m of course more comfortable at home, and another reason for that is that I can spend the hour feeding topless. Why bare one at a time (and wrestle with a modesty “drape”) when baby will drain both? So I strip to the waist and let baby bounce from nipple to nipple unimpeded. I’m not shy and a breast isn’t a sex organ – if any family members are in the room, they can watch me feed. It’s biological but not sexual. Let the family see if they want, leave the room if they want. No false modesty for me, either, my bared milky breasts flop out in the open much of the day.

My Mom never leaves the room when I feed. She always stays with me. There may be no more magical mother-daughter bonding experience than the younger woman nursing her baby while the older one remembers nursing her, decades before. My father often does leave the room. He feels uneasy seeing my breasts, and I love him for it. I want him to be comfortable. He chills in the kitchen, works his phone, returns to my side when I’m done.

When the in-laws are visiting together they try to be polite and play it by ear. If my Dad has gone to the kitchen they’ll join him. If the in-laws are visiting alone they stay with me. When Thomas is alone he sits with me for a while, then says something about going to the other room to catch up on his texts. But I know the truth – he’s become erect, and embarrassed, and flees to the kitchen hoping I haven’t seen the bulge in his pants. It makes me feel powerful to tease an erection, even from my father-in-law.

Both dads and my mom dropped by last Monday at different times. I saved my milk a bit for when my Father-in-Law was here to enjoy the show. I’m evil. I sat in the couch corner, held baby of course, and then dropped my phone. Barely a second later Thomas asks me if I would like him to pick it up for me since I can’t. I just look at him for a second or two and say that would be nice. So he came close, knelt to grab it, and then put it on the table for me, his face inches from my tooters. Just before he could get up I said it’s OK to look, it’s a natural thing, breastfeeding. He didn’t know what to say, but he stayed on a knee at my feet for a long time before standing up, adjusting his junk, and going to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Thomas came by again the next day. This time he sat in the chair next to the sofa, instead of the chair across the room, while I fed the baby. I told him “It’s normal to be curious,” and let him gape openly for about half an hour. He kept mumbling about how beautiful it is to watch and I asked why his wife never nursed their children. He said natural feeding went out of favor for decades, but is now coming back, which I already knew, of course. I couldn’t resist fishing for a compliment so I said something like “Too bad; Mandy (mother-in-law) has a nice figure. You would have enjoyed watching her nurse” I got what I wanted when he told me my breasts were nicer than hers, then suddenly realized how inappropriate a remark that was, tried to take it back, and ended up all flustered.

So Thomas is babbling about my boobs and I had a cruel impulse. Baby had nodded off on a nipple – happens a lot – and I lowered him to my lap. With both breasts uncovered I turned slightly to him and asked why he liked seeing me feeding. He choked a bit and couldn’t decide how best to answer. I let him hang for a second and said “It’s OK if you look, but you know that’s all, right?” He almost had a heart attack knowing I was contemplating some sexual thing we couldn’t do. He was all boned up when I lifted the baby up again, blocking his view, and I said “Don’t worry, Thomas. This time together can be our secret, OK? No one else has to know….” and looked down at my child, giving him a chance to scurry to the kitchen.

My Father-in-Law dropped by twice Wednesday, but nothing much happened that hadn’t happened before. He was more relaxed now sitting next to me and watching me. Less antsy. He is a perfect gentleman, and has not taken any liberties, said or done anything inappropriate. He sits, and we chat, and he watches us, and then he leaves. He’s become comfortable with my breasts. I realize I’ve become comfortable with is gaze, too. I never thought I would say this, but now I’m kind of going to miss breast feeding when it’s over. It forces me to be still, and to be at peace, alone with the baby or with the adoring look of a man. Sexuality in the room, but dormant.

I often think, when any of the three men watch me nurse, that it would be so forbidden a thrill if they took a drink from me. Even my own dad, if we are alone, I think these things when I nurse. Nothing I have ever done makes me feel more like a woman than nursing in the presence of a man.

I use a lanolin cream to repair my nipples. I apply it myself during the day. But every night before sleep I let my husband gently apply it while I recline with my eyes closed. He traces the contours of the nipples tenderly with his fingertips. The feeling for me is greatly comforting and soothing but not at all sexual. My poor nips are chewed and stretched by my son’s feeding and there’s comfort, but no pleasure, in massaging them at the end of the day.

If my husband is around during the day he might help with the nipple cream while I sit upright on the sofa. Thursday my husband was giving my nipples a “touch-up” mid-day as soon as the baby napped. I sat quietly on the sofa and he sat next to me, applying the cream. We heard his father come in (we enter each other’s homes all the time, just loudly announcing our arrivals for courtesy) and we postponed the rest of the treatment.

But almost as soon as he got comfortable Thomas saw the cream and asked if he had come at a bad time. I said no, picked up the cream, and continued the application. My husband was fidgeting, and I cruelly decided to tease him. “To tell you the truth, Dad, your son was putting this on for me but now he’s shy.”

My husband looked like the floor was about to open and swallow him. He quickly looked at his greasy finger and almost looked guilty about something.

Thomas knew how to push my husband’s buttons. “Go ahead son, I don’t mind. Finish the job for her.”

No reply.

“A good husband takes good care of his wife, Son. You should finish the nipples.”

The word made me tingle. Now my husband looked paralyzed and was blinking his eyes. “Really Dad, she can do it. Tell him, Honey.”

I was silent for a second, cream in one hand, my nipples now as hard as pebbles. My life forked in front of me; which path should I take? I quickly looked at father and son and made a decision. “It’s OK, Bradley, I think I would like Thomas to help, OK? Thomas, would you please finish the other nipple?

My father-in-law showed no surprise at my invitation. He rose from his chair and came to my side. He leaned over, took the cream from my hand, and applied a bit to my left breast. All three of us stared at the nipple as he worked cream into my cracked skin, then returned to the other breast. Our eyes locked for a second and then we both turned to look at my husband, still in his chair, still gasping for something to say.

I realized with some surprise that I was aroused. My sexual desires had been modest since the birth, my libido very low. Babies are exhausting, and I couldn’t remember the last time Bradley and I had made love. I let my head roll back onto the cushion and closed my eyes as Thomas worked both my nipples in front of my husband’s silent gaze. I moaned something.

When Thomas heard me purr he made a decision. “Bradley, go sit with the baby while he naps, OK? Stay in his room with him. Tracy is going to close her eyes for a while right here while I sit with her. Is that all right? Tracy, is that what you want?”

My husband looked back and forth between his father and his wife, my nipples at the older man’s fingertips. He nodded his head silently and began to turn. I spoke up: “Bradley, I need to hear you say it’s OK. May I take a nap with Thomas?”

Now the men stared at each other. “It’s fine, Dad,” my husband said. “I’ll watch the baby while you….” Words failed him now, at the moment he would give me to his father. He just couldn’t say it.

“Don’t worry, Brad,” Thomas said at last. “You take care of the baby and I’ll take care of his mother, all right?”

Bradley nodded and left the room.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/iztotf/nursing_in_front_of_my_inlaws