Cream & Coco, Chapter 7 [Fm] [Incest] [Mother/Son]

[Chapter 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jkp22m/cream_coco_chapter_6_fm_incest_motherson/)

I had to give myself a good talking-to the next morning. At the very least, I had to promise myself to keep the fantasies in my head, rather than let them manifest themselves in any real way. I leaned away from the mirror and did a once-over of myself before cupping one of my breasts. They were still aching, which was odd and mildly concerning. Had I slept on them wrong or something? Eaten anything unusual in the past few days? Nothing really seemed out of sorts, so I just decided to endure it and see how the day went.

There was a light rain outside, not helping the mood. Drew was in the kitchen, looking very panicked as he struggled with a pan and spatula. He glanced over at me as I entered, giving a rushed “Morning, mom,” before returning his attention to breakfast. I peeked in the pan and saw a disaster of an egg, the sunny side up with its yolk burst from the high heat and thoroughly cooked through. “Can’t even cook a goddamn egg,” he was muttering as he scraped it up and plated it.

I patted his shoulders and laughed. “Everything takes practice, Drew. There’s never any shame in learning and improving. I’m proud of you.” He gave me a doubtful smile as I took the egg, using a fork to turn it over. “See? Not even burnt.”

I beamed at him, and he gave me a grudging smirk. There was no mention of last night’s kiss, and he seemed perfectly normal. I felt like a masked vigilante. During the day I was an independent woman who lived a modest life. But at night, instead of a crime-fighting superhero like in the movies, I became a shameless tart who craved a man to satisfy her lustful needs. So maybe not much like a masked vigilante at all; I was dreaming of seducing my son and marrying him. I was just a jade. Not a great thought to start the day.

But the real trouble began when I got to the office.

“Hey, Coco,” Jazz called over the divider as I sat down at my desk. “Everything alright from Friday?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “It all seems to have worked itself out.”

She popped her head over the wall of the cubicle with an eyebrow arched so high I thought she might pull a muscle. “You sure it ain’t got nothing to do with Leon?” Before I could answer, she added, “Oh, you got something on your top, sugar.”

I looked down, and there were two wet spots on my blouse, right where my breasts were. Immediately I folded my arms in front of my chest, turning away from Jazz. Impossible. There was simply no way this was happening to me right now. The next thing I knew, Jazz was in my cubicle, leaning over me.

“Girl, are you milking?” she stage whispered.

“No! No. I don’t know.” I couldn’t help but sound miserable as I stole another glance at my top. How had I not noticed this wet feeling earlier? The rain. I hadn’t even been rained on, but my mind must have misattributed the dampness. More importantly, how could I be lactating?!

“I’m glad to see you’re back, Colette,” came Leon’s voice from behind us. We both whirled, my arms still folded in front of me, and he looked between us uncertainly. “Though you really should know better than to be gossiping during company hours. At least be subtle about it.” He gave us a teasing smile.

“Sorry, Leon,” I stammered. “Just a… uh… stomach ache. Bad… eggs this morning.” *Sorry, Drew. This isn’t about you, but I’m drawing a blank for excuses.* I stood and hurried to the restroom, Jazz trailing behind me. “Check the stalls,” I instructed her.

She made sure we were alone before locking the door to the restroom itself, while I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled my bra up over my breasts. Jazz whistled in appreciation and I glared at her disapprovingly before looking at myself in the mirror. Beads of white liquid were forming at my nipples, and I shook my head reflexively. How could this be happening? I wasn’t pregnant. I’d had sex exactly once in my life, and I’d already borne the fruit of that union. My days of breastfeeding were firmly behind me.

*So then what the fuck was happening?!*

I hadn’t missed my time of the month, it was just last week. Nothing had gone inside me… except for the vibrator. But that was mint condition, firsthand, store-bought. There was no way it could have somebody’s semen on it. And even if it did, it was way too soon to start producing milk if I had conceived. I thought back to what I was doing a few months ago. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The cause didn’t matter right now. At the moment, I had to somehow deal with this situation. Pumping the milk came to mind, but how was I going to slip out of work to buy one? Jazz couldn’t go either, and Drew was at school. My parents were in the next town over. I squeezed one breast experimentally, and a trickle of milk dripped onto the counter.

“Damn, calm yo tits, girl! Literally!” Jazz pulled out a paper napkin and cleaned up the mess I’d made. “You said you weren’t getting none. Why didn’t you tell me you were knocked up?”

“Because I’m not knocked up, Jazz! Just look at me!” I snapped. With a sigh, I continued, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m just really freaked out right now.”

I pulled my bra back into place, inadvertently squeezing another dribble into the sink as I did so. There was only one person who could run and get what I needed and deliver it to me in a timely manner. Somebody I knew who was in the city and didn’t have work or school. I pulled my phone out and dialed. The phone rang until it went to voicemail, a generic message to leave my number after the tone. I cursed and ran my fingers through my hair, racking my brain for a solution while Jazz went on in the background about something or another. My phone suddenly rang and I sighed in relief before answering.

“Sasha,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry to be bothering you, but I need a favor.”

“*Da. Chto?*”

“I need you to go buy me a breast pump and some nursing pads. And… And maybe a home pregnancy test,” I forced out. “Bring it to the address I’m about to text you, and ask for Jazz. Somebody will be down to pick it up. I’ll pay you back this afternoon.”

“Everything is okay?” she asked. Her tone sounded strange over the phone, but I didn’t pay it much mind.

“Yeah, just a minor emergency, but nothing to be concerned about. Just get those things to me, quickly please.”

“*Konechno.* No problem.”

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.”

After I hung up, Jazz trilled her lips. “So you just gon’ camp out here ’til this girl arrives and I go and get the stuff? What do I tell Leon?”

“No idea,” I sighed. “Whatever you can make up.” I looked at my feet. “I’m sorry Jazz, for making you do all this. Covering for me and everything.”

“Aw, I didn’t mean it like that. Just wondering if you’re gonna be okay by yourself, ‘cause I gotta head back out.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the door, and as if on cue there was a frantic knock, making her jump.

“Yeah, I’ll just hide out in one of the stalls,” I said, buttoning my blouse back up. “When I text you later, could you go downstairs and get what that girl Sasha is delivering? She’s a pretty blonde teenager with long hair. Looks kinda flirty, has a Russian accent.”

“Sure thing. But it sounds like there’s a story there, and you’re gonna tell me it soon, got it?” I nodded, and the knocking started again, sounding even more panicked. “Aight, I better let her in, or there’s gon’ be another mess to clean up.”

I hurried into one of the stalls, and Jazz had a little spat with the woman at the door before leaving. About half an hour later, Sasha texted me that she’d arrived, and I texted Jazz to go meet her downstairs. A few minutes after that, Jazz came back into the restroom.

“Coco? Where you at?”

“In here.” I waved, and she swung a duffel bag over the stall door. “Thanks, Jazz. I’m gonna need some time to get this done.”

“Better haul ass,” she warned. “Leon’s starting to notice.”

She left, and I rummaged through the bag. There was more in there than I asked for, namely a bundle of clothes. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that I’d have to change my top and bra. First things first, I got the pregnancy test out and followed the directions. While I waited for the results I began pumping, watching the milk flow out into the bottle. It had been eighteen years since I last did this.

Not pregnant. Of course I wasn’t pregnant. Abstinence was the most surefire way to prevent pregnancy. Its advocates never shut up about it, and they’d better believe I was as abstinent as they come. So then why…? I’d have to look up other causes later. In the meantime, what was I going to do with the milk? It seemed a waste to dump it, but there was no baby to feed. Well, I did have a baby, but he was eighteen years old already. I smiled. Every now and then, he would stress that I needed to remember the distinction between ‘a baby’ and ‘my baby.’ It’s not that I didn’t know the difference, but sometimes I did have to remind myself that he was a grown up already.

I eyed the half-filled bottle and sighed before standing and lifting the toilet lid. Unscrewing the bottle, I poured the contents away then stowed the pump and took a look at the rest of my supplies. Nursing pads, just as ordered. There was a bra that turned out to be the right band size, mysteriously. Did Sasha know my measurements? Apparently not, because while she had guessed the band size, the cup size was two sizes too small. That wasn’t something you usually got wrong, by so large a margin.

Scratch that, the band was larger than my usual bras to compensate for the smaller cup. It was still a tight fit, exasperated by the fact that I had to slip nursing pads in. I didn’t even need a mirror, and I could tell. The result was somewhat beneficial, because a tighter bra would help with the leaking, but it really boosted up my assets and looked like I was wearing one of those micro bikinis.

To make things more embarrassing, the shirt Sasha had gotten me was scandalously low-cut. I had half a mind to just wear my stained blouse. The shirt’s buttons began at the bottom of my sternum, accentuating my cleavage. When I stepped out of the stall to look at myself, I couldn’t help but groan. I looked nowhere near as conservative as I normally did. Was I here to work or to seduce by colleagues? I wasn’t a sexy intern, I was a mother. Still, I couldn’t complain; this was probably all Sasha could whip up under the circumstances.

I hurried back to my desk, stowing the duffel bag and checking to make sure Leon wasn’t waiting for my return. After giving Jazz an eyeful and assuring her everything was alright, I focused on work to catch up on the time lost, and to take my mind off wondering what Drew would think of my appearance.

—

“*Privet,* Coco.”

“Privet, Sasha.” I exhaled heavily as I sat down, my coffee steaming in the crisp air. I’d come to the cafe straight from work, and was still wearing the top she’d brought me.

“*Kak pozhivayesh?* How are you?”

I took a sip of my coffee and paused. “This is hot chocolate.”

“Coffee is not good for pregnant,” Sasha explained.

“Sasha, I’m not pregnant,” I announced firmly, and she cocked her head.

“I do not understand.”

I sighed. “I looked up some possible causes, which range from diet to brain tumors.” Her eyes widened in alarm, and I held my hand up. “I just had a full physical pretty recently, so I don’t think it’s anything as drastic as that. Besides, even that doesn’t require immediate action.”

“Will you go see doctor?” she asked.

“I’ll probably wait and see for a few days. Y’know, to see if it’s something I can control.”

She nodded, then grew a wide naughty grin. “Or maybe you are very aroused by boy?” I blushed, and she reached over to the chair next to her and patted a box in a black plastic bag. “I have surprise for you.”

“Oh?” I took the bag and looked inside. I got the box halfway out before I shoved it back inside. “Sasha! Are you serious?” She gave me a blank and questioning look. “You got me *this?* And you’re giving it to me *here?*”

“Is simple, do not hold box above table,” she giggled. I sighed, looking at my surprise gift again. It was that microphone-shaped vibrator she had deliberated on the day we met. The more I looked at it, the more embarrassed I got.

“How am I supposed to fit this inside me?”

That caught her off guard, and then she burst out laughing. I put the box away while looking around at the people watching us. Sasha seemed to regain control before another wave of laughter hit her and she rolled around in her chair. I was burning crimson with shame. When she was finally done, she was wiping tears from her eyes. Cheeky chit.

“Wand is for outside,” she explained, still giggling. “If you can fit inside, is very impressive.”

“Oh. Of course.” I set it aside, still the color of a tomato. “Anyway, thank you so much for your help today. I didn’t have anybody else to call. Hopefully I didn’t interrupt anything.”

She waved me off. “Any problem, Sasha will provide.” She eyed my top. “You are wearing the clothes, yes?”

“Yeah. Um… It’s a bit revealing, though.”

“All the better to seduce your boy,” she said with a wink. “Everything is good with Drew?”

“Um…” I hesitated, and she leaned forward with hungry curiosity. “I’ve been kissing him more. But I’m not sure how far I want to take it.”

“You aim to have sex with Drew, yes?” I must have looked guilty as hell, because she tittered and patted my hand. “Is okay, Sasha understands.” Her eyes. Her eyes were so full of intent that it was impossible for somebody to think she was dumb, even just by looking at her. People said you couldn’t judge a book by its cover, but some folks just had a *look* to them. You could just tell their mind was razor sharp. Sasha was one of those. “You have let him touch you?”

“No, nothing of the sort.” Well, that one time wasn’t me *letting* him. I wasn’t going to bring up a technicality like that, though.

“Maybe you can watch each other?” she suggested, piquing my interest. “Make him show you how he feels.” She added a wink for good measure, to make sure her point got across.

“…Maybe. Anyway, I should really get going. Drew has started trying to cook, and I need to make sure he doesn’t burn down the house,” I laughed.

“He is at your house?” Sasha murmured, and I froze. That’s right, I’d told her Drew was my neighbor’s son. Ugh, I hated lying like this.

“He comes over sometimes to keep me company,” I said slowly. She wasn’t buying it for one second, I could tell. But she didn’t push for an explanation, and I could only hope she thought I was simply withholding details of how advanced my relationship with him was. “Anyway! How much do I owe you?” I thumbed through my wallet, but Sasha shook her head.

“No need. I am just helping friend.”

“I’m not just going to take advantage of your kindness. Come on, how much?”

“My father is oligarch. I do not want your money. If you want to pay back, tell me nice story. Story about you and Drew.” She finished her coffee and stood. “Love story is my life. So when your story is finished, Sasha wants to hear.”

—

“Easy, right? And you just let the whole thing bake. Obviously, don’t forget to take it out of the oven, or you’re gonna get a big ass lump of coal for dinner.”

I was relieved to find Stefan supervising Drew in the kitchen when I got back home. He wiped his hands off and hefted his backpack onto his shoulder, shouting a farewell to Drew before spotting me.

“Hey, Ms. H,” he said. “I was just heading out. Have a good dinner!” He gave me two thumbs up, and I waved after him as he left.

“Hi mom,” Drew said. He paused when he saw me. Stopped, really, right in his tracks as his gaze passed down to my breasts before slingshotting smoothly back to my face. “Lasagna’s gonna take a bit, so why don’t you just relax for a moment?”

“Thank you so much, baby. It’s… kind of nice to have somebody else cook.” He grinned widely, and my heart fluttered.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding to the duffel with the breast pump.

“Oh, just some clothes,” I stammered.

“You buy some new stuff? You weren’t wearing that this morning.”

“Yeah, I, um… I spilled some stuff on myself at lunch today, so I had to get a friend to lend me some clothes.” I sat myself on the couch, and he joined me.

“Is it that Russian girl you were talking about?”

“It is, actually. You were at school, so I couldn’t ask for your help. She’s in town just visiting friends, so she was the only one available.”

“Uh huh.” He was squinting a bit, as if piecing something together. Or he didn’t believe me. His eyes flitted down for a moment, then he turned away uncomfortably.

“Do you… like it?” somebody said in my voice. It certainly wasn’t me. I could never be that brazen.

Drew turned back to me, watching me carefully before his eyes betrayed him again and he ogled my breasts. “Yeah,” he rasped, leaning slightly toward me. He stopped himself, doubt crossing his face as he probably restrained himself of a repeat of last time. He looked surprised when I responded in kind, leaning in.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered. And I closed the gap and we were kissing and oh God it felt amazing. His arms were around me in an instant, my hands cupping the backs of his shoulders, my breasts mashed together in the tiny bra and pressed against his chest. We broke apart long enough for him to lift me so I was sat across his lap before resuming our kiss as I opened my mouth to him. If I had an angel and devil on my shoulders, the angel must have been tied up in a ditch somewhere. I was making out with my son.

An instant later, the timer on the oven dinged, and we broke apart again. How long had we kissed? The time it took to bake a lasagna, evidently. It had seemed like no time at all. Clearing my throat, I stood and smoothed out my clothes before announcing that I was going to get changed. What I was really doing was fleeing from my feelings.

—

I stared at the giant head of my new wand vibrator, and it stared back. I shook my head. Tonight wasn’t the night. I was ready for bed, the bedside lamp was already off, but I felt a bit parched. Quietly, I snuck out to the kitchen for a glass of water. How naive of me to assume things wouldn’t play out like last time, to assume I’d actually get that water.

Drew’s door was open again, and as a woman with her morals slowly crumbling around her, of course I peeped. He was masturbating again, and this time he was on his bed, with his member in full view. My eyes widened at the size of it, of how far his hand moved as he stroked it. No doubt he was thinking about our kiss, with me dressed like an office slut. Before I knew it, my fingers were in my panties, dipping into my wetness as I watched him wrap his other hand around his shaft as well. My little boy had grown up, across the board.

He gave a restrained groan as he came, splattering his hands and the crown of his manhood with seed. My panties were soaked. Damn it, even my t-shirt had wet spots. I went back to my room and grabbed my wand. Looked like tonight was the night after all.

This vibrator needed to be plugged in, and luckily the cord was long enough that it could comfortably reach my bed. I lay down and powered it on, the large head blurring as it vibrated. I touched it to my sex and came. Just like that. To be fair, I was already plenty aroused from the show Drew had put on. Sasha really was on point with her suggestions. The wand had a wider surface area than the bullet, allowing it to not only hit my clit, but all the surrounding nerve endings as well. I gasped and turned the setting up higher, picturing myself wearing the skimpiest of clothing and showing off to Drew while he stroked himself for me.

I had been reserved almost all my life. It was time to indulge in myself a bit. I imagined Drew showering my lingerie-clad body with his lust, and I came on the wand. Riding the orgasm left me blinded with pleasure, and I think I might have let out a few moans through my clenched teeth. As I came down from the climax, I understood why Sasha had started me on the bullet. I also *definitely* understood why she had wanted me to choose the wand in the first place. I was starting to regret not exploring the use of toys sooner.

As I drifted off to sleep, my mind registered some last-minute visuals. Had I not closed my bedroom door?

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jox3qw/cream_coco_chapter_7_fm_incest_motherson