Erotica Story of Gita

[RajuWalvan]

Update 11

The next night, I prepared myself mentally. Radha and her son were still staying with us, and I had quietly sent a message to Suhana, asking her to let Ramesh come over after dinner. I told her I would keep him for the night.

After everyone had eaten, and the house had settled into its usual evening calm, Ramesh arrived. My mother-in-law assumed he was just there to play or sleep over, and no one questioned anything.

Later, as the room dimmed and the fan began its slow spin above, I lay on my back on the mattress, legs slightly raised and bent at the knees, resting comfortably. Radha’s son and Ramesh were on either side of me, and both had grown familiar with my rhythm and the comfort I offered. I unbuttoned my blouse, lifted it up, and unclasped my bra, baring both breasts. The cool air brushed across my nipples, now sensitive and full.

I started with Radha’s son. He turned toward me and lay on top of my stomach, head nestled just beneath my breasts. I guided his mouth with two fingers—one beneath his chin and another pressing softly above his upper lip. He found the nipple and latched on gently, letting out a soft breath as he began to suckle. His lips curled around the areola, and each pull created a faint clicking noise as he adjusted. My milk let down slowly at first, but soon it warmed and began to flow. He suckled with care, small hums vibrating against my skin, and I felt the rhythmic tug from his soft mouth.

As he fed, I held his waist gently between my thighs, keeping him steady. I could feel his erection on my stomach. I lifted my saree up giving him space to penetrate. With a small hump he barely inserted his small penis in my vagina. With to or three humps he came. His arms wrapped loosely around my middle, and he relaxed into the moment. After a few minutes, I tapped his shoulder, and he released with a wet sound and a tiny sigh. I brushed a drop of milk from his lips with my fingers.

Then Ramesh shifted into place. He was taller now, and as he lay on my stomach, I adjusted slightly to balance him. He rested his cheek near my breast, waiting, and I cupped his face softly. As I brought my nipple toward him, he leaned forward and latched with a soft gasp. The suction was stronger than Radha's son’s, firmer and more eager. He pulled deeply, and almost immediately, the milk flowed faster.

He was more seasoned. As I lifted my legs he pushed his penis in me and started pushing. I held his waist again between my legs, keeping him anchored. He moved slightly forward, causing the mattress to creak under us. His lips smacked softly against my skin with every pull, and I could feel his tongue moving in rhythmic waves beneath my nipple. Small slurping noises and breathy hums filled the space between us.

Suddenly, I heard the slow creak near the floor. My father-in-law, fragile and quiet, had been brought in by my mother-in-law earlier. He was lying on a thin mat beside the bed. His eyes were open now, glancing toward the bed in a silent request.

I reached over, lifting him slightly and cradling his head on my lap. The light in the room was switched off except for the faint glow from outside, casting long shadows. With one hand, I guided my breast toward his face, gently squeezing until a drop of milk formed at the tip. I brushed it near his nose. He breathed in sharply, recognizing it. Though he made a weak sound of protest, he was too frail to resist. His lips parted slowly, and I placed the nipple gently inside.

His mouth, toothless and warm, began a slow, gumming suction. It wasn’t strong, but it was steady. The skin around his lips was darker now, and I watched as my pale nipple disappeared between them. His lips—dry and pale, slightly trembling—closed around my pinkish-brown areola as he fed quietly. I shivered slightly from the contact, reminded of how different it felt. My mind wandered, thinking about what my husband might say if he ever found out. But then I remembered Leela, how naturally she nursed her own father-in-law, and how it was simply accepted in their household. If Leela could do it, then so could I.

Still lying on my back, I turned my attention back to the boys. When Ramesh came in me, Radha’s son returned eagerly, crawling over me again asking me to let him try one more. He settled on my stomach, letting out a contented breath as he latched onto the breast not occupied by my father-in-law. He suckled in sync with the old man, and my breasts responded, milk flowing into both mouths. I held his waists gently, guided his penis in me, my legs still raised slightly, giving me the balance I needed.

Our movements caused small shifts on the mattress. Whenever he pushed his penis in me, a tiny gasp or sucking pop would follow, followed by a hum of pleasure as he found his rhythm again. My father-in-law, meanwhile, had his eyes closed now, his hands resting limply on my thigh, his feeding slow but steady.

Both boys took turns again, each trying to please me, I adjusted their latch with my fingers, guiding their lips and correcting their angle. Their curiosity never faded—they often looked at my breasts, watched the nipple stretch slightly as they fed, and sometimes giggled quietly when they came in me.

And throughout it all, I remained on my back, legs raised and open just enough to steady their bodies between them. It was a satisfying night. But I needed more.

 

[rodry]

Great update, there's more to come, but the other story continues.

Another story of Walvan [Breastmilk]​

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 12

The next morning, the house was quieter than usual. Radha moved about with a distracted look, her eyes often resting on me but never long enough to speak her thoughts. Her silence was heavy, almost suspicious. She had seen enough over the past few nights, but she never confronted me.

She packed their bags and told me they would be returning home that afternoon. I smiled softly, hiding my mix of relief and sadness. I knew she had questions, perhaps judgments too, but she chose not to voice them.

As she busied herself with her son’s things, I took a moment to sit beside her. "Feeding isn’t just about hunger, Radha," I said gently. "It’s comfort, it's connection. You may have seen more than you expected, but none of it is wrong."

She nodded slightly, still not meeting my gaze. "I know you care for them," she said quietly. "But it’s... different."

"Yes," I agreed. "It’s different because I accepted it. And maybe it looks strange from outside, but it has given me and those boys something real. You don’t have to agree. But I hope you understand."

She didn’t respond, only stood up and started calling for her son. As they got ready to leave, I packed them some food and walked them to the gate.

"Safe journey," I said warmly. "Come back soon."

Radha's son lingered behind as she walked ahead. He looked up at me and asked softly, "Aunty... can you tell Mama something for me?"

I hugged him, pressing my boobs to his chest. "What is it, beta?"

"Can you tell her feeding is okay? Like how you do it? Maybe if you say it, she’ll let me... sometimes." He said while cupping my breasts with his both hands.

I felt a tug in my chest. I placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I’ll try, sweetheart. I’ll talk to her."

He nodded, holding my gaze for a moment longer before running to catch up with his mother.

As they disappeared down the path, I stood at the doorway for a long while, my heart full with both joy and ache. Some seeds take time to bloom. I had done my part.

And I hoped, one day, she would come to understand.

It was a quiet afternoon. My husband had left early for work, the children were at school, and Bhaiya had already come by for his morning feeding. I had just finished sweeping the verandah when I heard the call from my mother-in-law.


"Your sasur is getting restless again. He wants your milk."


I sighed, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I wasn’t surprised anymore—it had become part of my daily routine. But today, things were a bit different. He had been demanding than usual and had more kinky demands as he normally did.


When I entered the room, I saw him sitting on the floor mat, his thin frame hunched over, struggling even to lift his head fully. I knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You want milk, baba?" I asked softly.


He nodded faintly, lips trembling with effort.


Normally, I would have settled on the bed, cradled his head in my lap, and guided my breast to him, but now I had to think quickly. I lowered myself to the floor and positioned myself in front of him. Then I carefully folded my knees on either side of his frail body, straddling him delicately while making sure my weight was balanced. His face was now level with my chest, but I still needed to guide him.


With his weak posture unable to support much movement, I reached behind and pulled my saree up slightly, resting the loose folds gently over his back for comfort. My pallu was drawn loosely over my shoulder, shielding us enough. I unhooked my blouse from the front and pulled the fabric aside. Then, slipping my bra down carefully from one side, I exposed my left breast—small but firm, the areola a soft pinkish-brown that contrasted with my very fair skin. The breast hung slightly loose as I leaned forward, heavy with milk, its weight natural.


I took it in my hand and brought the nipple close to his mouth. A few drops of milk had already formed at the tip. As he caught the scent, he stirred, his lips parting. Finally, he leaned in.


His mouth was toothless and warm, and his suction slow and shaky but steady. I felt the thick wetness of his saliva spread around the areola as he latched deeper. I grimaced slightly at first—the sensation of his toothless gums and warm breath wasn't pleasant, but I held still. To surprise I felt his penis getting aroused between my thighs. He wanted me to guide him to pleasure. He murmured, "Gita please let me have sex, I won't ask for milk again". It was a valuable proposition. For one I won't have to feed him again, and I can gain pleasure which the boys can't provide.


His hands trembled as they loosely gripped the edge of my thighs, and I could feel the fragility of his touch through the cotton. I supported him by resting my arms across his bony shoulders while my breasts rested naturally, swaying slightly with each subtle movement. I decided to hold his big penis in my hand and guide it in me. It was very hard, as I sat on his election, he struggled to hump. I started to sway my ass forward and backward, the wetness in my vagina provided the needed lubrication.


He was more focused on my breasts and alternated between firmer sucks and shallow breaths. The milk flowed steadily, and I guided my nipple back to his lips a couple of times when it slipped from his weak mouth. Each time, he eagerly re-latched, producing soft, wet clicks as his gums pulled milk.


After ten minutes, I came with full force. I rested my body on his weak frame for a while. I gathered my senses realizing my mother in law could barge in any time. I lifted my body and adjusted my underwear and saree briefly before offering him my other side. The right breast, slightly larger, hung lower as I freed it. I offered the nipple, brushing it against his lips again until he latched.


This side took longer—nearly fifteen minutes. My back was aching from the awkward position, my knees strained around his body. But I stayed still, looking down at him. I wondered again what have I become, I just had sex with my father in law. I did not have any shame or guilt but it felt better than the sex I had with boys or even with my husband.


I also thought of Leela. She had once told me proudly that she fed Sujata’s father-in-law, and she did while foldling his balls and his penis. But today, I went further and fucked him.


He finally released my nipple with a gentle sigh. His lips were wet and slightly white with the remnants of milk. He looked content, even happy, like a child who had been comforted.


I pulled my blouse back on, adjusted my saree, and rested his head on a cushion. His eyelids drooped, and he sank into sleep.


It hadn’t been easy. The position was awkward. The sounds, the wetness, between my legs—it wasn’t beautiful. But it was necessary. It was human.

 

[Manju143]

Update 12

The next morning, the house was quieter than usual. Radha moved about with a distracted look, her eyes often resting on me but never long enough to speak her thoughts. Her silence was heavy, almost suspicious. She had seen enough over the past few nights, but she never confronted me.

She packed their bags and told me they would be returning home that afternoon. I smiled softly, hiding my mix of relief and sadness. I knew she had questions, perhaps judgments too, but she chose not to voice them.

As she busied herself with her son’s things, I took a moment to sit beside her. "Feeding isn’t just about hunger, Radha," I said gently. "It’s comfort, it's connection. You may have seen more than you expected, but none of it is wrong."

She nodded slightly, still not meeting my gaze. "I know you care for them," she said quietly. "But it’s... different."

"Yes," I agreed. "It’s different because I accepted it. And maybe it looks strange from outside, but it has given me and those boys something real. You don’t have to agree. But I hope you understand."

She didn’t respond, only stood up and started calling for her son. As they got ready to leave, I packed them some food and walked them to the gate.

"Safe journey," I said warmly. "Come back soon."

Radha's son lingered behind as she walked ahead. He looked up at me and asked softly, "Aunty... can you tell Mama something for me?"

I hugged him, pressing my boobs to his chest. "What is it, beta?"

"Can you tell her feeding is okay? Like how you do it? Maybe if you say it, she’ll let me... sometimes." He said while cupping my breasts with his both hands.

I felt a tug in my chest. I placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I’ll try, sweetheart. I’ll talk to her."

He nodded, holding my gaze for a moment longer before running to catch up with his mother.

As they disappeared down the path, I stood at the doorway for a long while, my heart full with both joy and ache. Some seeds take time to bloom. I had done my part.

And I hoped, one day, she would come to understand.

It was a quiet afternoon. My husband had left early for work, the children were at school, and Bhaiya had already come by for his morning feeding. I had just finished sweeping the verandah when I heard the call from my mother-in-law.


"Your sasur is getting restless again. He wants your milk."


I sighed, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I wasn’t surprised anymore—it had become part of my daily routine. But today, things were a bit different. He had been demanding than usual and had more kinky demands as he normally did.


When I entered the room, I saw him sitting on the floor mat, his thin frame hunched over, struggling even to lift his head fully. I knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You want milk, baba?" I asked softly.


He nodded faintly, lips trembling with effort.


Normally, I would have settled on the bed, cradled his head in my lap, and guided my breast to him, but now I had to think quickly. I lowered myself to the floor and positioned myself in front of him. Then I carefully folded my knees on either side of his frail body, straddling him delicately while making sure my weight was balanced. His face was now level with my chest, but I still needed to guide him.


With his weak posture unable to support much movement, I reached behind and pulled my saree up slightly, resting the loose folds gently over his back for comfort. My pallu was drawn loosely over my shoulder, shielding us enough. I unhooked my blouse from the front and pulled the fabric aside. Then, slipping my bra down carefully from one side, I exposed my left breast—small but firm, the areola a soft pinkish-brown that contrasted with my very fair skin. The breast hung slightly loose as I leaned forward, heavy with milk, its weight natural.


I took it in my hand and brought the nipple close to his mouth. A few drops of milk had already formed at the tip. As he caught the scent, he stirred, his lips parting. Finally, he leaned in.


His mouth was toothless and warm, and his suction slow and shaky but steady. I felt the thick wetness of his saliva spread around the areola as he latched deeper. I grimaced slightly at first—the sensation of his toothless gums and warm breath wasn't pleasant, but I held still. To surprise I felt his penis getting aroused between my thighs. He wanted me to guide him to pleasure. He murmured, "Gita please let me have sex, I won't ask for milk again". It was a valuable proposition. For one I won't have to feed him again, and I can gain pleasure which the boys can't provide.


His hands trembled as they loosely gripped the edge of my thighs, and I could feel the fragility of his touch through the cotton. I supported him by resting my arms across his bony shoulders while my breasts rested naturally, swaying slightly with each subtle movement. I decided to hold his big penis in my hand and guide it in me. It was very hard, as I sat on his election, he struggled to hump. I started to sway my ass forward and backward, the wetness in my vagina provided the needed lubrication.


He was more focused on my breasts and alternated between firmer sucks and shallow breaths. The milk flowed steadily, and I guided my nipple back to his lips a couple of times when it slipped from his weak mouth. Each time, he eagerly re-latched, producing soft, wet clicks as his gums pulled milk.


After ten minutes, I came with full force. I rested my body on his weak frame for a while. I gathered my senses realizing my mother in law could barge in any time. I lifted my body and adjusted my underwear and saree briefly before offering him my other side. The right breast, slightly larger, hung lower as I freed it. I offered the nipple, brushing it against his lips again until he latched.


This side took longer—nearly fifteen minutes. My back was aching from the awkward position, my knees strained around his body. But I stayed still, looking down at him. I wondered again what have I become, I just had sex with my father in law. I did not have any shame or guilt but it felt better than the sex I had with boys or even with my husband.


I also thought of Leela. She had once told me proudly that she fed Sujata’s father-in-law, and she did while foldling his balls and his penis. But today, I went further and fucked him.


He finally released my nipple with a gentle sigh. His lips were wet and slightly white with the remnants of milk. He looked content, even happy, like a child who had been comforted.


I pulled my blouse back on, adjusted my saree, and rested his head on a cushion. His eyelids drooped, and he sank into sleep.


It hadn’t been easy. The position was awkward. The sounds, the wetness, between my legs—it wasn’t beautiful. But it was necessary. It was human.

Well written
Thanks for the great update. The daughter-in-law should feed him milk from time to time so that his body gets strength and his body remains capable of having sex.

To improve her father-in-law's health, the daughter-in-law started breastfeeding him three to four times a day so that she could not only enjoy the joy of motherhood but also have sex with him.

Daughter-in-law breastfeeds her father-in-law during the day and shows him having sex with her while breastfeeding at night.

 

[jasminballsinger]

good update ..

 

[jasminballsinger]

looking forward to the next update..

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 13

It was a warm afternoon. The house was quiet after lunch, i had just feed Bhaiya and I finally had a moment to rest. My lower back had been aching terribly after awkward posture from sex with Sasurji earlier. I stretched out a thin mat on the floor in the verandah where a faint breeze still passed through.

I lay down on my stomach, pulling a cushion under my hips for support. My saree was pulled up slightly for comfort, and I rested with my legs slightly apart, knees bent, my arms stretched forward to cradle my head. My blouse loosened a little with the pressure of lying flat. The posture made my back feel somewhat better.

"Bhaiya, are you nearby? My back is killing me. Can you help?" I called out softly.

He came quickly, knelt behind me, and nodded. His hands were warm as he began pressing down along my spine. His hands pushed their way into every knot of my back and unlocked a wash of release where pain was. I usually stay silent during massages but I had to tell him he was amazing.

I let out a slow drawn out moan under my breath.

As he was massaging my upper back, I felt his penis on my ass. He was virtually at my asshole. I didn't know if I wanted to react so I just enjoyed the sensation. Maybe it was a mistake? Either way, my asshole was throbbing and aching to be touched.

"Right there," I whispered when I felt his balls. He worked his thumbs carefully in circles, kneading the tension as my body stayed still.

I was then interrupted by the feeling of warm oil drop on my back and drip down my ass crack all the way down to my pussy, he ran he hand over my asshole and inserted a finger with no resistance, I was so turned on wondering how this was going to feel. He moved his hand out and started moving higher, circling my tight anus and I was pushing back into his hand having never felt this amazing sensation before I didn't think it could get any better. Then it happened, he pushed hard and buried his finger two digits inside me and my anus lit with fire and pleasure. I am amazed I didn't immediately cum with that one finger. He stayed there as my body got use to his finger and he slowing pulled it in and out for what seemed like forever, I was pushing back into him with each move craving more. He pulled his hand out and I felt him lean over me, pushed my underwear in my mouth all the way and whispered in my ear "this is going to hurt, but you are going to enjoy". I whimpered as he poured more oil on my ass and I felt his penis press in my ass slightly, I tensed and then as soon as I let go he slid his full length in my ass.

After he paused for what felt like forever I started pushing my hips back into him, wanting more friction of his cock in my ass. I took him deep and he started pounding in and out, it was only about four motions and I began to cum, harder than ever, squirting all over the cushion and floor. The waves were so powerful I felt him immediately cum from my contractions. Deep in my ass I felt string after string and then he pulled out and shot many times onto my back. His warm liquid slid around to my back and dropped on the floor. I turned over to clean off the head of his penis with my saree

But then I heard a small giggle.

I turned my head. Standing by the entrance to the verandah were Ramesh, Guddu, and Amit. They had returned from college earlier than expected. Dusty, tired, and still in their uniforms, bags barely hanging from their shoulders.

Ramesh chuckled. "Aunty, it looks like Bhaiya is churning dahi on your back."

Guddu added, laughing, "You were moaning! Is it that nice?"

I blushed, half embarrassed. "It’s just a massage. My back hurts. Don’t start teasing."

Still, they didn’t leave. They lingered with curious, amused looks. I could tell they weren't just interested in the massage. Their eyes dropped to where my back arched, the way my blouse had shifted.

I sighed. "Come here," I said softly, still on my stomach, my hips lifted slightly by the cushion, arms stretched below to keep balance. "But quietly. One by one."

They blinked in surprise.

I loosened the my blouse from beneath, slipping my hand back and freeing one breast carefully. The nipple peeked out, and I kept my eyes ahead, not turning.

Ramesh came first, crawling down and shifting below to my side. He exhaled against my skin, and then his lips closed around my nipple. A soft slurp followed as he latched. I could feel him moving slightly forward and backward, his sucking rhythm steady. The sound of his mouth and his small breaths filled the space.

When he was done, I tucked myself away and shifted to the other side. Guddu replaced him, lying across my lower back, head to the side. His lips were warm, and his tongue flicked briefly before he latched. My arms held my posture, keeping my chest slightly raised for better access.

Last was Amit. He lay on my stomach, small hands pressing lightly into my waist. He took his time, his lips opening slowly, then latching gently. His sucking was deeper, more curious, and made my breast feel taut under each pull. I felt his soft hair brush against my back as he nursed.

Each of them, one by one, had fed while I stayed resting on my stomach, supported by my arms and hips, legs bent at the knees, the cushion lifting my bottom like a bridge.

When they were done, I covered my breasts, sighed, and asked them to leave. But Ramesh wanted more. "Can I stay, I want to massage Suhana aunty's back in same ways he does." Bhaiya and I exchanged glances. I knew there is no turning back. I asked him to lay below me. But he had something else in mind. As the other two went away he removed his penis from his pant and presented to my face. I readily complied as and sucked it for over a minute.

Ramesh slide under me placing his penis head on my pussy lip. Bhaiya assisted him in shoving his penis in me. I could feel both their ball rubbing each other, which made me more wet. However, my wetness did allow any friction between Ramesh’s small penis and my vagina. He tried to grasp some pace but his movements were mechanical. In under a minute I came again with much larger force. As I fall on top of Ramesh the cum from my asshole dripped to his penis.

As I gathered my self I realised Ramesh didn't experience orgasm, which was what I wanted to keep his dream of keeping me under his thumb "a dream". I pulled bhaiya to me and sucked his dick before landing a dirty kiss on Ramesh lips. Ramesh realised he has crossed a line and was been punished.

The pain in my back lingered, but inside me felt quietly fulfilled.

 

[rodry]

Ramesh, has he learned his lesson or is he looking for Gita to review what he experienced? Lolol

 

[dubukh]

WOW.. Finally there is ONE woman in that entirely whole village with a "Working Pussy". Rest of all women in that Village has only the TOP part of their body in working condition and their bottom part is as good as useless. May be someone has came and pasted Cement in the Pussy of that whole Village Women, except GITA. It is great to see at least one woman in that village to enjoy sex with men

First she enjoyed with Bhaiya, but since it is his first attempt and he was relatively weak, he didn't perform well. But still she tried her best with the young boys in night, one after another and she was half satisfied. Later during that night, her Father In Law noticed her sex with boys and later he too wanted to fuck his young daughter in law. Then in the morning he wanted to make a deal with Gita, saying, "Allow me to fuck you Bahu and you need not feed me again". That was one hell of a deal bro. As expected Gita got huge satisfaction during her sex with her FIL. Even better things come later, when Bhaiya does better again and the young boys do "DP" with her. WOW, a DOUBLE PENETRATION, with two dicks, one in her super hot pussy and one in her super ass hole. WOW, I enjoyed reading this part bro. YOU ARE A GREAT WRITER BRO..... PLEASE KEEP ROCKING BRO

Really bro, this is THE BEST story of you, no doubt. I encourage you to NOT care about few people who doesn't want sex in this great story. This IS A SEX STORY SITE for heaven's Sake. A story without SEX in this site is A WASTE of online resources, imho. Expecting ONLY milk sucking story in a SEX website is like coming to a Butcher's shop and ask the butcher to ONLY SELL MILK. Please continue the sexcapades of Gita bro

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 14

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, the slow whir of the fan above doing little to quiet the thoughts circling in my head. The house was silent—my kids asleep, my husband sucking remaining milk from breasts, Sasurji breathing softly in the next room. And yet, I couldn’t shake the unease that had started settling deep inside me.

Had I gone too far?

I unlatched my sleepy husband and sat up in bed, hugging my knees. My body ached, not just from the day’s efforts, but from the weight of decisions I hadn’t paused to think through. Feeding had started as something nurturing. Something natural. Something I’d accepted quietly from watching the women around me. But now, I couldn’t help but wonder—was I giving too much of myself away?

Ramesh, Guddu, Amit... even Radha’s son. And Bhaiya. And Sasurji. Each person had felt justified in its own time. Each pair of eyes had carried need, each pair of lips had brought some kind of comfort—if not to them, then to me. I never felt shame. I was never unhappy. But I was beginning to feel stretched, emotionally and physically.

I thought back to the night I had sex with all the boys in turn—Ramesh, Guddu, and Amit. I had held their waists between my thighs as they fucked me in turn, each boy laying on my stomach, eyes closed, breathing softly as they came. The subtle movements of their waists, the wet sounds as they pushed and pulled, the way my body responded to each touch—it had all felt so complete. Bhaiya had joined sometimes too, his need different, more complex, but familiar.

But still, a thought haunted me—what if someone else decided it had to stop? What if my husband returned one day, seeing what I offered freely, and chose for me?

That fear sat with me.

So I decided.

I would still feed. I would still nurture. But only within my home. My body deserved boundaries. My breasts—once a quiet source of sustenance—had become too freely offered. I wanted them to be exclusive now, something shared only with those already part of my household.

The next morning, I woke before dawn. I moved quietly, preparing breakfast and tea, going about my chores like clockwork. When Bhaiya came by from Sujata and Manisha’s home, looking hopeful, I gently shook my head.

"Not now. Later maybe," I said softly, without meeting his eyes.

He didn’t protest, but the silence that followed felt heavy.

When the boys came by in the afternoon, I smiled, ruffled their hair, but didn’t offer. Instead, I handed them sweets from a hidden tin. Their eyes lingered at my chest for a moment—curious, hopeful to atleast kiss me.

Sasurji stirred from his mat, his gaze following me like always. I helped him sip warm water, gave him a long hand job until he came on my fingers, he sucked my nipple until he fell asleep.

Later that evening, I spoke with Manisha. We were sitting outside under the neem tree, the dusk breeze soft against our faces.

"I’ve been thinking about it," I said quietly. "Maybe I’ve gone too far. I feel like I need to protect a part of myself again."

Manisha’s eyes widened slightly. "You mean... all of them? Even Bhaiya?"

I nodded. "Yes. I’m not unhappy. I’ve had some beautiful experiences. I even had a train of sex with all the boys together once. Bhaiya too. But I don’t want to wait until someone else decides I’ve gone too far. Not even my husband."

She leaned forward, concern on her face. "Then maybe it’s time to stop. Before it’s taken from you."

I sighed. "That’s what I’ve decided. No one else. Only in my house. With care."

I was not ashamed. I was content. But I knew now that the gift I offered had to mean more. Feeding had been a journey. But now, it was time to walk it with more care.

Today, I reclaimed a part of myself. It wasn’t rejection—it was redirection. I would still give, but with intention.

One step at a time.


Manisha didn’t respond right away. She sat still, gazing at the shadows that stretched along the ground. Then, she turned to me and said, "Gita, what you're feeling is normal. Wanting to pause, to protect a part of yourself. But... can I share something with you? About Raju."

I looked at her, not surprised. "Raju?" I knew she and Sujata had repeated sex with him. How would you say no to a sex crazed teen.

She nodded slowly, a knowing smile forming. There was something tender in her eyes, something peaceful. "When Raju came from Mumbai, I wasn’t sure how it would be. He’s older, mature, polite—but I could see it in his eyes. That longing. That curiosity."

She paused, pulling her pallu over her shoulder like a habit born from modesty but not shame. "One evening, I was alone in the kitchen. He came in, quiet. We didn’t talk much. But when I looked at him, something passed between us. I moved my pallu aside. He understood. He latched on like he belonged there."

Her voice softened with the memory. "I thought I might feel awkward. But I didn’t. I felt... fulfilled. Cherished. The way he suckled, it wasn’t just about milk. It was about comfort, connection. I let him take both sides. Sometimes together, sometimes one after the other. He liked to lie across my lap, his arms tucked under him. His head would press gently into my chest, and his lips would move with a rhythm that made my whole body respond."

I listened quietly, my hands clasped together, heart open.

"He loved my breasts," she continued. "He would look at them before latching like they were a miracle. He once said they looked like a dream, soft and glowing. He preferred the left side—it gave him more milk, and he liked to rest his cheek there after he finished. His sucking was slow at first, exploratory, then deeper. More needy. During his stay I become his mistress, after good feeding he would undress me and try different positions which I could not ask my husband"

"Did anyone else know?" I asked.

Manisha shook her head. "Only Sujata had a hint. But she never asked. It was my time with him. Even when I was feeding him and bhaiya noticed, I didn’t stop. I told him it’s between us. Raju respected it. He always did."

Her expression turned thoughtful. "I’ve fed bhaiya and even baba, but Raju was different. With him, it felt fuller, more meaningful. I enjoyed it in a way I never expected. It made sense to me when you said you now want to feed only those from your own family. There’s a connection that goes deeper, and once you feel that, it’s hard to share your body so freely again." She continued, "We did 69, doggy, missionary and even roleplay of that Priya girl. To satisfy his teenage sex drive I went on to new level. He made me feel young again. Though his penis was smaller than my husband and bhaiya but sex with him was not mechanical. And have you thought incase you become pregnant you would want the baby to look like your family or like some stranger."

Her words struck something deep within me. I understood now that I wasn’t alone in this shift. What I’d felt wasn’t guilt—it was clarity.

She reached for my hand. "You’re not wrong to want sense of security. But don’t regret what you gave. Our bodies, our milk—it’s a gift. One that you can share, or withhold. Just let it always be your choice."

We sat like that for a long time, letting her story settle between us like the quiet night air. In her voice, I found comfort. In her experience, I saw my own, reflected from a different light.

Maybe we each had our journey. And maybe that was okay.