Baby Peter (Fb,infant,oral,vag,ws,inc,cons)

by Jacquena

   Peter Enjoys "Water Sports" My little baby, Peter, was only three days
old when I realized that he *really* enjoyed "water sports." One morning as
I was changing his wet diaper, my sparkling emerald eyes watched with girly
glee as his uncut baby-cock suddenly started throbbing.  It swiftly grew
erect, wildly sprouting like that first plant in Spring, such a darling
dickie, jutting out at least an inch and a half - mega-far for a tiny
newborn.

   This may sound weird and not very motherly, but from the very first
second I saw his darling dickie, it reminded me of a cute cocktail frank,
but without the spicy sauce and toothpick.  I just adore them.  Any time
Daddy and I are at a party with a chafing dish of those wieners, Daddy has
to physically drag me away from those simmering little doggies.  I can
happily and greedily munch on those all night long.  First, I love to lick
every bit of that spicy sauce off, twirling my tiny tongue around and
around until it's totally clean.  Next, my teeth gently nibble on the ends,
first one then the other.  Finally, I make my lips into this cute little
"O," putting the tip of that wiggling wiener right up to bright red painted
pillows.

   With a single strong suck, the wonderful wiener has disappeared, swiftly
zipping inside me.  I'm happily munching and digesting.  I do try to muffle
my slurping noises as that weenie disappears, but more that one man has
watched me with smoldering lust, more than one woman with heated envy.  "I
know, I know," I deeply sighed, "I should not be thinking about my newborn
baby like that, and especially NOT about his privates, but that yummy image
just wouldn't go away.  Every time my eyes looked at him, down there, it
just popped into my head." Anyway, at his first diaper changing, this naive
mind thought his blatant erection was just due to the cool air or that cold
and wet wipe.  As a first time mommy, nobody ever warned me to watch out
for this spontaneous sprouting.  I closely watched, marveling, as his
wonderful wiener plumped fatter and longer, its shriveled skin taking on a
life of its own, stretching taut around that blood-engorged fleshy inside.
Even its little pink head ballooned mega-fat, mushroom-like, turning this
much darker shade of red, looking more and more like one of those cute
cocktail franks.  "Mmmmmmm, yummy," was all my mind could think.  My mouth
salivated, my tiny tongue happily wetting my little lips.  My sweet and
wonderful motherly side was slowly being replaced by this darker and
hungrier slutty side.  I didn't wish it to happen, but just that marvelous
sight of his inflating little wiener brought it out, made it surface from
deep inside my shivering body.  My muddled mind was aghast at those
unconscious actions.  "He's your baby boy," it chastised, "Don't ever again
think of him like that !!  He's not food." Still, that image didn't
completely go away, only went into deep dark hiding.  Peter definitely took
after his Daddy, who was "hung like a horse," or should that be a hugely
oversized kielbasa - I loved to feast on them too.  I just couldn't believe
that a baby boy's equipment could sprout so big, looking like it belonged
on a three or four year-old.  "I wish most men would get erections that
were as beautiful and elegant," I thought to myself as my bald pink pussy
became very, very moist, my mouth again salivating, my naughty tongue again
swirling over my brightly painted lips.

   I know, I know, wetting myself down there isn't very motherly, but I
wasn't overtly doing it, my body was arousing itself.  Even "I" was
surprised that my young body became aroused just changing his diaper
because Peter was only a baby, my baby, but still a very sensuous looking
one.  With my pouting pussy tingling, his baby-body looked more and more
delicious.  That wonderful wiener bobbed and wobbled, begging my lusting
little lips to stray closer, to taste, to savor.  Still, I resisted that
temptation.  After all I was his Mommy, but my soggy puss didn't seem to
understand.  It only grew wetter and puffier, now strongly throbbing
instead of gently tingling.  Still, my muddled mind wondered what he would
taste like.  "Would he really taste like a wiener ??" that dark side
whispered, "you know, the ones you enjoy so much." "How could one tiny
little taste hurt ??" it continued, "Just kiss that wonderful wiener like
you'd kiss him on the lips.  He'll never know and your curiosity will be
satisfied." Still, I resisted using all my motherly might.  Suddenly,
without warning, that fat and beautiful wobbling wiener started spouting
hot golden liquid *all* over the place.  It no longer reminded me of a
delicious cocktail wiener, just a short naughty frank.  The first golden
gush hit directly on my pink cheeks, splashing all over the rest of my
freckled face.  His glistening sunny liquid dribbled down my chin,
completely wetting my hospital gown, making the johnny-fabric almost
transparent.

   Daddy would just love how my baby-baring body looked now, fully enjoying
an unexpected see-thru peek.  Both my unfettered milky udders vividly
showed through, their dark purple veins and super-taut flesh making them
look so ungodly full, ready to burst.

   Both reddish-brown areola mimicked two bull's eyes, surrounding my
mega-protruding and super rubbery dark spouts.  It felt so fulfilling and
enjoyable having Daddy greedily suckle on one while Peter contentedly
suckled on the other.  Unlike Daddy, he had to struggle to keep my
humongous squirting teat in his tiny mouth, but that's a different story.
That morning in the hospital, you should have seen the look of surprise on
my face.  His bloated darling dickie wobbled all around, like a wild fire
hose, wetting everything nearby -- the sheets, the bedspread, the pillows -
everything.

   I couldn't believe that he had that much pee inside his baby body - his
eyeballs must have been floating.  Soon, anything or anybody within a
foot's distance got wet, if not totally drenched.  At first, I just didn't
know what to do.  Once my initial shock had worn off, I actually stuck my
moist pink tongue out letting an erupting gush of hot golden juice dribble
on it.  I don't know why I did it.  I'd never wanted to taste Daddy's piss,
but with my baby boy, it just seemed alright.  His hot baby pee tasted a
tad bitter, actually more like broccoli.  I blushed as I realized that I'd
had one whole heap of broccoli for dinner last night.  Its strong flavor
must have must have seeped through my breast milk, then flavored his pee.
"Hmmm, I wonder if I ate sweet juicy strawberries, his pee would taste that
way," that dark side of my mind wondered.

   "Mmm, strawberry flavored pee," I silently and secretly murmured, my
naughty tongue again lusciously licking my lips.  "No," the angelic side of
my mind screamed, "this isn't right.  He's your baby boy." I swiftly
swirled my head, long red hair flying everywhere, both thoughts completely
shook from my head.  I wasn't ready to debate that question yet, even
amongst my two selves - light and dark, good and evil, or at least,
mega-naughty.  A sex book that Ramona had given me as a gift for my 9th
birthday had talked about "water sports" but this was my first "taste" of
it (pun intended).  From that day on, again back home, I always put a large
rubber sheet under Peter when I changed him, just in case.  After many days
of soggy transparent blouses, his geyser-like "cuteness" began to wear off.
It happened every time I changed one of Peter's wet diapers.  That cute
cocktail frank tinkled a little in his diaper, then Peter cried because it
was wet.

   A few seconds after I'd unfastened his diaper on the changing table, his
no-longer-darling dickie suddenly bobbed around, growing so much firmer,
then squirted out warm golden liquid, wetting the whole area around him.  I
really needed a *third* hand, since one hand always held him while the
other was trying to change his diaper as he squirmed and wiggled all
around. At first, I tried waiting longer figuring that Peter would "tinkle"
a second time before I changed him.  That didn't work.  Peter only got more
and more upset, then still wildly erupted *after* I removed his diaper. 
"He must have acquired this nudist gene from one of us, only able to pee
when his bottom was completely uncovered," I giggled, trying to make light
of the fact that my tee shirt had again gotten soaked, my wrinkled
reddish-brown areola and puckered rubbery spouts obscenely showing through.
"If this happens when we're out, I'll be mega-embarrassed, as well as get
arrested for indecent exposure," I sighed, super frustrated.  We hadn't
been out yet, but it was only a matter of time.  Next, I tried rubbing his
fat rubbery wiener through the first wet diaper, trying to stimulate him to
pee again, *before* I removed his diaper.  No, I wasn't masturbating him,
but still, all it accomplished was to create this wriggling worm-like bulge
in his diaper.  His darling dickie sure knew how to expand, growing longer
and fatter at the slightest touch.  He must have inherited that from his
Daddy too.  All it took was a gentle caress across the front of Daddy's
boxers and his bobbing monster was rock-solid, lewdly jutting through his
fly, drooling and begging for intimate attention.  My hot horny fingers
were always drawn to the front of Peter's wet diaper, under his bulging
rubber pants.  I just couldn't help myself, my motherly will-power becoming
less and less with each time my shaking fingers happily fluttered,
succumbing to a much more primal need.  God, his stiff cocktail frank felt
so warm and wonderful, no longer feeling that cute.  I loved how it
wriggled all around as my fingers played, my not-so-motherly hand acting
like it had found this new mesmerizing toy.  "Stop," my mind chastised,
"you're just trying to solve his pee problem.  Don't think of him sexually.
He's your baby boy."

   Much as that angelic part of my mind screamed and berated, my fluttering
fingers couldn't stop.  I was hooked, hooked on my baby boy's wonderful
wiener.  Peter definitely liked my rubbing cause his darling dickie always
got mega-stiff as he happily cooed, but he still didn't "tinkle." His
naughty body simply waited until that diaper was off, then squirt- city. 
Finally, I tried changing his wet diaper very quickly while Ramona lovingly
held Peter down, that is, after she stopped giggling about the cuteness of
his wiener.  This worked most of the time, but he quickly wet that second
diaper and began crying to have it now changed.  We'd now created twice as
many diapers to clean and hand wash ~~ not a viable solution since we
couldn't afford a washing machine or dryer !!  My ultimate solution may
shock some of you, but it satisfies both me *and* Peter - especially Peter,
causes no extra washing, and solves our pee problem.  Whenever I use this
well-researched technique, my motherly body is always completely naked
except for a thick coating of fire-engine-red lipstick on my little lips.

   This naughty nudity isn't because I'm afraid of being squirted, that has
happened too many times already.  You see, um, well, you'll find out why
later on.

   I don't care if Peter sees me buck naked, my mega-engorged udder- like
breasts lusciously swaying and my clean-shaven drooling puss puffed way out
and purring, both poised ever so closely in front of him.  After all, he
sees and samples both my taut bloated breasts at every feeding, greedily
suckling my warm wet Mommy's milk to his heart's content.

   He had intimately seen my plump puffy pussy too, both inside and out,
when he so swiftly popped out at his birth.  He probably doesn't remember,
but his tiny flailing hand even roughly rubbed my erect wiggling clitty as
he was born, over and over again, while feeling for anything to grip onto.
He sure found it, then so resisted letting go.  Mixed among my memories of
those strong and sharp birthing pains, the absolute core of my being so
acutely felt his tiny hand groping my mega-erect clitty.  It wasn't
intentional - I think, but it still sent this massive undercurrent of
chills through my body all the same.  My two-inch stiff clitty couldn't
have been happier, that mixture of pleasure and pain zooming it right to
heaven, jutting stiff and straight like the Washington Monument.  Because
of Peter's frantic rubbing, my body actually climaxed during his birth, my
baby- birthing body wriggling around in that birthing chair more than most.
My birthing cries filled that delivery room, echoing off all four walls,
this mighty mixture of pain and pleasure.  Toward the end, my lust-filled
pleasure totally overrode the little bit of pain that remained.  I don't
think any of the attending nurses knew I'd strongly cum, although one gave
me this wink and a very wicked grin afterwards, making me totally blush.  I
felt so marvelous for so many hours afterwards that I vowed to have another
baby as soon as possible.  I'm ready right now, but my baby-baring body
needs a few more months, and I definitely know that Daddy is ready, much
more than ready.  Right at his birth, I knew that Peter was going to be a
lusty lad, one who would steal the girl's hearts, as well as their sweetly
cherished innocence.  But enough about Peter and my naked body, let me tell
you how my simple solution works.  Today for example, as soon as my hands
pull down Peter's rubber pants and remove his wet diaper, I swiftly shove
his wiggling cocktail wiener in my little mouth before it can squirt.  My
lusting lips begin gently sucking on it.  Rightly or wrongly, my naughty
mind pictures this cute cocktail wiener in my mouth, but those wieners
don't wildly wiggle and hotly throb back.  To make him quickly pee, I even
twirl my warm moist tongue around its entire wiggling length, caressing his
swelling baby-flesh, just like I'm removing every bit of that spicy
cocktail sauce.  My tiny tongue finishes up by tickling its soft pinkish
tip, especially that tiny but still flaring piss-slit.

   It tastes so yummy as I patiently wait for its own "golden sauce" to
gush out.  His fat rubbery weenie feels even better than when I had suckled
Ramona's dangling milky breasts.  Maybe, it's because I birthed Peter and
our bond is greater, but it's also that I've begun to really love sucking
his darling dickie -- one problem resolved, another created..  The sensuous
stimulation from both my gentle sucking and my hot swirling tongue causes
Peter to not only tinkle, but gush and squirt this second time.  Without
releasing his pulsating spout, I gulp all his hot golden liquid right down,
not even burping.  That warm and wet flow always feels so great coursing
down my throbbing throat.  Before I even started sucking, my bald beaver
was soaking just from anticipation, its hot girly goo already oozing down
my trembling thighs.  When Peter's first hot golden-gush flows down my
throat, it *really* begins tingling and wetly juicing, wantonly begging for
attention.

   Immediately, my left hand slips down between my shivering thighs,
stroking and rubbing.  My naughty thumb takes on my stiff erect clitty,
strumming it to some magical mommy-rhythm, then gently batting that
stiff-stalk all around, while those other four fingers frantically sink
into my hot passionate puss, pumping and pushing for all they are worth. 
Soon, the squishing noises from down below begin rivaling my loud lusty
sucks higher up.  Every cell in my entire girly body is getting closer and
closer to exploding, to cumming like they never have before.  Now, you
understand the reason for no clothes -- I don't need a single confining
barrier.  After I strongly suck out his last delicious drop, that soft
wiggling baby-cock instantly grows rock-hard, slowly creeping down my
spasming throat.  It's longer and fatter than ever before, now feeling more
like a "ballpark frank" than a cute cocktail weenie.  "His super stiffie
isn't from an over-full bladder any more," I knowingly giggle.  As I
strongly suck, both his tiny hands intertwine in my long red hair, pulling
my head even tighter up against his baby-body, my lusting lips now deeply
buried in the delicious baby fat of his groin.  He sure knows what he
likes, and wants more of it.  Me, I just love the dirty smell of sex mixed
with the clean scent of baby powder.  "Is there some male manual that tells
them to toughly tug on a poor girl's hair or is it only instinctive ??" my
mind wonders, but only for a split second as every inch of my naked flesh
flushes, flashing like a neon sign as my body soars higher and higher. 
Either way, baby Peter sure has his technique down pat.  Today, he'll end
up branded for his tugging, a bright red lip-print all around the base of
his darling dickie.  With that lip print pressed so perfectly, its red oh
so bright, it'll later look like his fabulous frank is proudly jutting out
from my scarlet lips like I'm smoking this stubby cigar.  Luckily, nobody
else will see that lip print before I wash it off - I'd never be able to
explain how it got there, but right now, just thinking about how stunning
it looks on his creamy baby-flesh makes my lusting lips purr - the upper
ones only breathlessly giggling, while the lower ones still loudly squish,
both to the very same lusty tune.

   My second girly giggle is abruptly terminated by a guttural gasp from
the deepest corner of my soul as my body rockets higher still.  My wobbling
clitty now juts straight out, its wicked head a bright pink, as my entire
body shivers.  Both basketball-sized milky breasts now do a dance of their
own, drooling warm wet mommy's milk down my body.  As soon as I feel his
long "ballpark frank" forcibly poke the back of my throat, first tickling,
then impatiently ramming my tonsils, I gag.  My lusting lips quickly
release his no-longer-darling dickie, not wanting to bite it in real life
as I sense my impending climax.

   I swiftly untangle his tiny fingers from my flaming red hair as a loud
lingering "Oooooooh God" strongly leaves my quivering lips, echoing around
that entire bedroom, the wailing cries of my slut- birthed lust loudly
ricocheting off all four walls.  I'm no longer feeling very motherly.  With
brightly exploding fireworks in my eyes and the deafening crash of thunder
in my ears, my young fully-naked body violently climaxes.  It jerks and
bucks around on our king-size bed, fully out- of-control, looking like this
out-of-the-water beached fish.

   Stream after stream of warm wet Mommy's milk erupts like Old Faithful
from both my stiff rubbery teats.  Four or five ducts in each violently
squirt at once, miniature fountains shooting high up into the air.  That
hot and humid air over our bed is thick with glistening white droplets, a
mist hanging over the bed denser than a rich morning dew.  In my mind, I've
named it my "mommy-mist." A thick "bolster fence" all around Peter keeps
him from rolling elsewhere while my poor body so wildly and wantonly
climaxes, then all too quickly drifts down from its blissful heights.  I'm
now becoming a mommy again, so lucky to have my Peter.  After finally
coasting back to earth, it always makes me grin to see his shriveled
cocktail frank brightly glistening, still covered with my warm wet saliva.
Today, it looks extra cute, that bright red lip print so neatly framing it,
making me want to nibble some more, but I've reverted to my
maternally-loving mommy-status.

   My falling mommy-mist splatters his bare baby-body, tiny white spots
sprouting all over it, making him look speckled or having this rare
disease. Both my lips lovingly and lingeringly kiss each and every wet
white dot off his baby-body, no matter where they are, my ears listening to
his mouth happily cooing and gurgling the entire time.  His contented coos
grow louder, much more insistent as my tongue licks those milky spots from
his mega-puffy breasts.  Both have deliciously blossomed so full and round
that it looks like he needs a baby-bra.  In the hospital, his boy-baby
titties were always way bigger than any of the girl babies, monsters by
comparison.

   "Those girl babies didn't know enough to be envious," I always giggled
when checking out the nursery with him.  He definitely enjoys my tongue tip
tweaking his tiny nipples - hey, there were milk spots on them, both tiny
points swiftly hardening and poking far out to both greet my tongue and
savor even more of those new sensations.  Today, even after my
earthshattering and mind-blowing climax, I'm feeling a little silly.  I
swiftly reapply a super-thick coat of my fire-engine-red lipstick, then
bend over and firmly kiss his breast- flesh, first one side then the other.
Bending back up and looking at my handy work, I just have to giggle.  With
those dark nipples centered in the middle of both lip prints, it looks like
he has two eyes on his creamy chest, peering out at me.  As both nipples
harden, those two bright red eyes don't look innocent any more, now
devilish and very wicked.  "I guess his true side is showing," I giggle,
thinking about how he frantically tugged on my hair, knowing now that he
has this lusty and wicked side hidden deep inside which will one day
surface.  Sadly, I finally finish licking, sucking, and kissing all over
his happy baby-body.  I again giggle as I see all the red blotches covering
his smooth creamy flesh.  They mark everywhere I've hotly and enjoyably
kissed and nibbled.  "Not a bad job," I compliment myself, again giggling.
This deep motherly sigh escapes my quivering lips as I watch him lying
there, so happy, so contented, and also looking so ungodly delicious.. 
It's almost enough to make my pouting puss begin drooling again, my slutty
side trying to surface, but company is coming, so we have to look, and act,
decent.

   A little more cleaning up with a warm wet face cloth to remove all
traces of those bright red smears and splotches, and Peter is good as new.
"I can watch him all day long," I lovingly murmur.

   "Especially when he's naked," my naughty mind adds.  With company
coming, I cloth him in a diaper and rubber pants, then add a cute pink
tee-shirt which brings out the reddish high lights in his hair.  We're
definitely not into sexist clothing and roles around here, although Daddy
never seems to be around to change diapers.  "Mmm," I ponder as a red flag
flashes in my mind.  Please understand that Peter always seems *very* happy
about our arrangement.  He happily coos and gurgles the entire time I have
his long stiff wiener in my mouth.  I do feel very sorry for any future
girlfriend who isn't a passionate "sword swallower." I'm *very* happy too.
Our intimateness has created a much deeper bond between Peter and myself. I
love suckling on his wonderful wiener, letting my tongue lewdly stroke it
up and down, then swirl around, finally gently caressing its bloated pink
head -- hey, maybe I have an oral-fetish from when my first Mommy suckled
me.  What we do just feels so right for Peter and I, and what harm can my
sucking him do ??  I know from experience that Daddy loves to have his
kielbasa sword-swallowed, and I've heard that most other men love that too.

   Ramona has told me that *all* her previous boyfriends loved to be
sucked, even the young immature preteens.  If men love it and young little
boys love it, why not Peter ??  He surely hasn't been complaining !!  There
is only *one* draw-back that I can see: I may end-up having to vigorously
suckle Peter's cute cocktail frank a couple times a day for the rest of my
life, or at least until he gets a very willing and oral girlfriend.

   "Sigh, I guess that's the kind of *tough* sacrifice a mother has to make
for her son.  I'll just have to make this one for my Peter."

   "Hmmm, I wonder if Ramona's baby girl would be willing to accept this
oral assignment in later years . . . . .  I guess only time will tell."


   * * * * *

   Jacquena Shows Peter Her Love Before those episodes of Peter peeing all
over everything, I never ever thought of him in a sexual way.  I *only*
thought of him in a warm maternal manner.  After all, he was my sweet baby
boy.  As a little girl, I didn't have any brothers or sisters, only baby
dolls, and I never thought of any of my baby dolls in a sexual way, not
even when I got older, not even the ones with that hole in their bottoms so
they could pee-pee.  Of course, none of my baby dolls, male or female,
possessed sex organs or anything that might cause me to ask unwanted
embarrassing questions.  Even though Peter looked like one of my baby
dolls, with him, it was different.  After seeing his baby-cock getting so
long and fat, then squirting hot golden liquid all over, the aroused
feelings in my shaking body swiftly became more than just maternal.  He
wasn't a doll, he was real flesh and blood, my flesh and blood, and that
only made my confusion worse.  I didn't know what to do, but quickly
realized I was fighting a losing battle.  His wobbling and gushing
fire-hose always shifted my muddled mind-set from a motherly-mode into a
horny-slut mode.  I soon began wondering if Peter would enjoy caresses in
other areas that might only be fun to him, but would surely turn on his hot
horny Mom.  Ever since I birthed Peter, I've tried to show him my intense
love when ever he wasn't soundly sleeping or greedily breast-feeding.  This
had initially begun with only hugging and "proper" motherly kissing.

   Now at 2 months old, I had decided to show him a different side of my
passionate love.  I had decided to kiss him *all* over his tiny chubby
body, anywhere I wanted, but ONLY if *Peter* still showed that he enjoyed
it.  Maybe it's just the latent lesbianism simmering in my blood, but I've
always been drawn to Peter's very large puffy breasts.  I love their
super-raised cone-shaped areola and mega-pointed nipples -- at least a
C-cup in a baby-bra.

   With a well-endowed chest like his, he'd look so cute wearing a
sheer-lace baby-bra, almost female, except for that darling dickie jutting
out down below.  That, I could slip under a matching pair of panties.  Even
when they hugely tented, he'd still look so darling.  "Hmmm, I wonder if
Peter preferred red or black best, or maybe baby-blue," I jokingly
pondered. The doctor told me that Peter's bulging breasts, although
unusually large, were probably caused by a huge amount of my female
hormones getting into his baby-body via the umbilical cord.  He said that
some babies are more sensitive to their mother's female hormones, or some
mothers have a much higher concentration, causing their baby's breasts to
really blossom.

   He assured me that both fleshy mini-mountains would shrink back to their
normal size over the next 2-4 months.  "Darn, and they looked so cute !!" I
softy sighed to myself.  Now-a-days, I spend minutes, if not hours, kissing
them *all* over, then sucking and nibbling on Peter's no-so-tiny nipples. I
need to give them my maximum attention before they shrink away to normal
boy-size.  I so wish there was a way to keep those two high hills big,
firm, and looking as delicious as they do now.  "God, both monster mounds
always taste so yummy," my lusting lips mew.  I love watching his tiny nips
sprout fat and tall, proudly standing so very erect, as my lips simply
graze them or as my puffs of heated breath arouse them from their silent
slumber.  Before a few readers yell, "Pervert," let me emphatically tell
you that I would never do *anything* to hurt or distress Peter.  *He*
enjoys my "fooling around" as much as I enjoy doing it.

   Is what I'm doing any worse than constantly blowing in a baby's
belly-button, making weird noises and his or her baby body tingle; or
constantly nibbling and sucking on your baby's toes like many parents do ??
("Aaaaah, it just dawned on me.  Now I know where all the foot-fetish
people come from.")

   Peter always joyfully coos and gurgles the whole time I'm kissing his
puffy chest and greedily suckling his noticeable nipples, ever so happy and
contented.  Believe me, I've learned that if Peter doesn't like something,
he *loudly* cries and screams until it's corrected !!  My only non-motherly
kink is when I wear the smudgiest fire- engine-red lipstick I can find.  A
shaking hand coats it thick on my lips, just like I'm icing a sheet cake. I
love to leave kiss-prints and smudges where ever my luscious lips wander,
kind-of a trail.  Looking at all those marks makes my clean-shaven pouting
puss very, very moist.  My moist lusting lips usually begin by kissing all
around his chubby belly, feeling it wiggle like Jell-O, its heated wetness
not missing an inch of his soft silky skin.  That smooth baby flesh feels
so wonderful as it smoothly caresses my lips, my body tingling all over.

   I float to cloud nine as my nose wriggles around his outtie his belly
button, deeply inhaling his fresh clean baby-powder scent.  I always think
he smells so innocent at first, but that changes as I widen my circle of
heated kissing and luscious licking.  My teasing tongue wanders higher, now
hotly wetting that valley where the bottom of his bloated breasts join his
chest.  As with many women, that taut fleshy joint is very sensitive to
him, his baby bum wriggling all around on the bed as I watch and giggle.

   Next, I slowly kiss all around the outer edges of both of Peter's
swollen breast-mounds, testing their firm fullness while leaving a trail of
warm, wet, and very red blotches.  Almost every kiss invokes a loving "coo"
from my Peter, his way of showing his happiness and enjoyment..  By this
point, *I* am also leaving a warm wet trail in the crotch of my lacy black
bikini panties.  They're a little wild for a "good" girl my age, but that's
the style my Daddy really likes and the very same pair I wore the night he
got me preggers with Peter.

   Earlier that fateful day, Daddy had bought these lacy black panties for
me and that night was the first time I wore them.  They looked and felt so
much nicer than the rough white cottons I always wore, though I missed the
Care Bears or those red and blue balloons.

   When Daddy came into my bedroom to look me over, I shyly tried to cover
the entire front with my petite palms cause that super sheer lace so
clearly showed my puffy little slitty, almost like that lace wasn't even
there.  It was already very wet, but I didn't want him to see that.  I had
never worn underpants before that had exhibited my pubescent privates so
vividly.

   Both my emerald eyes sparkled and my little lips gasped as soon as I
noticed that Daddy really - I mean really - liked them.  His boxer shorts
swiftly tented out into next week.  I had no idea that any man could be
that huge.  Even with my bald bottom so vividly showing that evening, I
suddenly felt so much like a woman.  To make a long story short, later on,
after a little wine and a lot of giggles, Daddy slowly and gently showed me
what it really meant to be a woman.  He both popped my cherished cherry and
made me pregnant with the same bubbling burst of his potent baby-making
juices.

   Both my now-engorged milky tits and my plump puffy pussy have never been
the same since.  Pregnancy forever changed both my little-girl body and my
outlook on life and sex, in ways for which I'll forever be thankful.  That
entire night, his huge hands never even removed those black lace panties,
just tugging that sopping wet crotch aside.  Even being a 10-year-old
card-carrying virgin, I was more than ready for him, though I loudly cried
out when his stiff staff plunged deeply inside my virginal body,
deflowering my innocence.  After that though, it was pure unadulterated
bliss.  God, it felt so wonderful having his long fat baby-maker up inside
my little cunny, stuffing my bottom fuller-than-full.  My flat little
abdomen obscenely rounded from his thickness, my belly now looking two or
three months pregnant.

   My emerald eyes watched with awe as that bloated bulge moved up and down
my little-girl body as he forcefully and frantically thrust in and out. 
Just watching that bulge move up and down made me so much hotter.  When
Daddy finally exploded, coating my tiny womb with wave after scalding wave
of his creamy baby-making juices, fire-works shot off in my head and I
thought I could hear this chorus of angels singing.  Every inch of my
lily-white flesh glowed like a million- watt light bulb.  I was so happy to
now be a woman.  The next morning, I never felt so happy and fulfilled in
my short life.  Even three weeks later, when I found out that I was
pregnant, I was still overjoyed, especially when Daddy told me that I could
keep the baby and we would raise our baby together.  Of course, our horny
bodies had hotly and forcefully mated another 20 times over those 3 weeks,
so even if I hadn't gotten pregnant that first wonderful night, I would
have been soon afterwards.  Those entire 3 weeks, I just couldn't keep my
little hands off his muscular and mega-masculine body, raping him many more
times than he did me.  Daddy doted over me my entire pregnancy, and a whole
lot more, enjoying my inflating 32Cs to their fullest.  Every night when he
got home from work, he comforted and supported me, while both pairs of my
lust-filled lips found more and more ways to make him happy, extremely
happy.

   Surprisingly, his softly stroking hand was even the first to feel my
baby boy kick.  It seemed like every minute he was home, his hot horny
hands were somewhere on my young ballooning body.

   I always waddled around our house either completely nude or only wearing
those black lace panties to tease and entice his muscular body.  Believe
me, it didn't take much.  He was on top of me before he even had his coat
off.  His was also the first mouth to suckle my warm sweet Mommy's milk in
the hospital, sneaking a quick suckle when they took Peter away to bathe,
measure, and weigh.  His lusting lips so greedy sucked that every single
cell in my body strongly shivered and my painted toes curled all the way
around.

   "Oooooooh Daddy, yessssss," was all I could squeal.  If our stuffy nurse
hadn't so quickly returned, I think his hungry mouth would have drained me
dry.

   Well, not really, but his strong fevered suckling sure felt like it. 
I'd never seen my naughty nippies and wrinkled areola stick out so far, the
former looking like 55-caliber bullets proudly shooting out from my twin
super-huge cannonballs.  I just know that he'd love to make another baby
inside me.  I want another one right away too, maybe twins this time -- two
more boys, but we have to wait a few more months for my young body to
recuperate.  Both Daddy and Ramona, though, are already trying.  Every
single night.  Ramona suckles and stimulates my engorged titties, milking
them like a hungry pussy-cat, to make me orgasm harder, much more
violently, while Daddy violently pounds my plump purring puss.  Those
times, Peter only intently watches from his crib.  "Hey, whatever happens,
happens," I submissively murmur.  Anyway, as I lovingly kiss my Peter, my
hot sticky juices begin to drip and drool out my 11 year-old passionate
puss, totally coating that lacy black panty crotch.  Loud squishing sounds
now occur whenever I firmly wriggle or rub my smooth trembling thighs
together, valiantly trying to satisfy my ungodly growing desire.  My
lusting lips gently suck on every tiny inch of his bloated breast flesh,
alternating back and forth, watching his little nippies sprout harder and
harder, their thick passionate points poking up higher and higher.  For an
instant, I think I hear a soft sweet "Oooooo" cooing from his lips,
exciting my bubbling body even more.  I pause for a second, lifting my red
head and looking down, now watching a sad look creep across his tiny face.
He almost looks like he's ready to cry.  He really is enjoying my suckling.
I so wish that his two rounded breasts would give milk like mine and
Ramona's.  Even a few drops would make it so perfect.  Suddenly, this great
idea floods my mind.  My shivering hands reach up and express my left
udder, five or six squirts of warm rich milk shooting far out.  Peter
happily giggles - the first I've ever heard - as that cluster of
snowy-white shooting stars lands onto his little chest, making it speckled.
"There, now I have milk to drink," I proclaim, proud and happy with my
solution.  Peter abruptly whimpers, smelling my warm sweet milk, wanting to
suckle for himself.  My eyes watch his little lips smack, lewdly wetting
each other, then rooting around for my fat rubbery spout.  "In a minute or
two," I softly coo to him, "then you can suckle all you want." My heart is
overflowing with love for Peter, but right now, fevered desire rules my
naked shivering body.  Peter seems to understand, now cooing rather than
whimpering.  My lusting lips drop back down, kissing and licking every one
of those warm white dots my mega-engorged titty had just created.  His
cooing grows louder, his baby-body thoroughly enjoying my moist kisses and
hot lingering licks.  One of my shivering horny hands creeps inside my
black lace panties.  My wiggling fingers slowly rubbing up and down as my
thighs spread wide, those diddling digits sinking deeper and deeper inside
my pink pouting slitty.  As all five tenderly tease my quivering wet lips,
my entire body simply shakes and shivers.  As I softly shiver, both my
emerald eyes watch his stiffie wriggle all around under that tented cloth
diaper.  Ripples constantly flow over his tight rubber pants' surface like
the choppy waters of a lake during a violent summer storm.

   Right then, I wished I had only dressed him in rubber pants, no bulky
cloth diaper.  Then, I could clearly watch his stiff little wiener wiggle
and wobble all around through that semi-transparent rubber, creating wave
after wave of sensuous flesh-colored rubber ripples.  "Yes, you wish you
were only wearing rubber pants too, don't you, my little rubber-man ??" I
pant at him, my breath growing more and more ragged.  He coos back as my
horny hand increasingly teases my happily purring puss.  I know that his
"ballpark frank" is frantically begging for release, but to do so would be
naughty.  Though, like any good mommy, my muddled mind wonders if he's wet
yet.  My unoccupied right hand creeps under his rubber pants, slithering
under that bulky diaper, its fluttering tips checking to see if my Peter is
wet.  "Accidentally," it grazes his darling dickie making it wildly twitch,
my already-pounding heart skipping a beat.  Not only is my baby wet, but
this confirms that his darling dickie is super- stiff and super-large -
very, very aroused.  That quivering hand pauses, undecided about what to
do, no longer physically able to leave his hot moist diaper.  A fierce
fight takes place inside my body, inside my mind - good versus evil; mother
versus slut.

   Finally, my angelic side surrenders.  That now-naughty thumb-pad begins
softly stroking the underside of his stiff baby-cock, feeling it throb and
grow even stiffer, while its fluttering fingers wickedly curl, now
caressing the rough and wrinkled skin that will one day become his hugely
hanging ball-sack.  His darling dickie is no longer darling.  It strongly
juts straight out, twitching and throbbing, feeling as hard as steel,
feeling just like that "ballpark frank." The dark-pink flesh of its bloated
little head feels so soft yet also so ungodly taut.  The rich red blood
throbbing through its veins violently pulses, forcing the blood in my hand
to beat along with it.  His wonderful wiener is making us one.  Peter may
not be able to squirt yet, but I somehow know that he can climax and that
he badly needs to climax, almost as much as his Mommy's shivering body
does. His sweet little coos become tiny gasps as three of my soft fingers
encircle that long and thick mini-spear and begin gently pumping up and
down.  I feel the smoldering heat coursing through that spear as its taut
skin slinks and slithers, feel the primal desire instilled by Mother Nature
to sustain the species.  He may be only two months old, but he
instinctively knows what he needs to do and that hole created by my curved
fingers will provide him with his first hot little home.  His baby-bottom
wildly wiggles, instinctively undulating, then forcefully pressing up into
my curved hand, his little legs kicking, feverishly trying to create as
much skin-to-skin contact as possible.  My small fingers wrap tighter and
my horny hand pumps harder as his cute coos grow more and more ragged.  As
my right hand lovingly teases his privates, my hot moist lips go back to
suckling his chubby breast-flesh and my left hand strokes in and out of my
smoldering puss even harder.  I'm ever so close to cumming that it's hard
to coordinate both my hands and mouth at once, but I succeed.  After all, I
am woman.  Suddenly without warning, Peter's baby body shivers, his wildly
kicking legs ramming his baby-bottom up into my fist.  A long lingering
"coo" echoes from his gasping baby lips.  I don't know for sure whether
that was his first baby-climax or not, but it instantly sets off mine.  My
fluffy red head whips back as my right hand leaves his diaper and begins
frantically pinching and tugging on both my rubbery teats.  Warm wet
Mommy's milk squirts everywhere, a dozen mini- geysers creating this wet
and white fire works display in the thick humid air.  Peter calmly watches,
his eyes still half open, his lips again happily cooing.  "Ooooooooh baby,"
is all my lusting lips can moan as my horny body shakes and shivers, bucks
and bounces all around on our bed.  Finally, my bronco body stiffens one
final time as a guttural groan shoots from my lips.  I collapse back on
those soggy sheets, every cell satisfied, right next to my still-cooing
lover.

   My eyes close for a couple minutes.  I let those warm wonderful waves of
climax wash over my body, my cunny still convulsing and both my teats still
tittering and dribbling warm rich Mommy's milk.

   In my euphoria, my muddled mind wanders.  I suddenly wonder whether
Peter will grow up to be a good lover.  I wonder whether that "ballpark
frank" that I so lovingly pumped today will grow much bigger - will be as
big as, or bigger than, my Daddy ??  My cloudy mind finally firmly resolves
that "he will become a great lover" even if I have to teach him myself. 
There are too many bad lovers in the world already, I will not allow my
Peter to be one.

   I shudder a little, this cool chill running up my very naked spine. 
This is the very first time I've ever thought of us intimately mating
together; of mother and son doing the "dirty deed"; of our two different,
but biologically linked, bodies doing more than just a little manual
stimulation.  A part of me is thoroughly repulsed, while most of me,
especially my panting and pouting puss is totally delighted.  It wouldn't
mind feeling that "ballpark frank" deeply up inside my body, wriggling all
around and so wantonly stretching cunny-canal's walls taut, then finally
having its bloated pink tip kiss my womb, over and over again.  "I wouldn't
mind it tickling my tonsils, from the bottom," I giggle, my naughty
thoughts snowballing totally out-of-control.  Luckily, he's not old enough
to create a baby inside me or life would really get weird, even weirder
than it is now.  My son would be the father of my son, and my son would
also be the father of his brother.  God, I don't want to think about that
right now.  My naughty mind, though, does think about how it would feel to
have my son's darling dickie thrusting up inside his naked and panting
Mommy, both now and when he is older.  "When should I begin his teaching
??" is the question that lingers in my mind.  My angelic side valiantly
tries to send that thought right to Hell, but doesn't succeed.  My naughty
side is growing stronger.  Even after my emerald eyes pop wide open again,
brightly sparkling, that question still lingers, unanswered.  My flushed
flesh still feels so warm, happily glowing brighter than the hot summer
sun. I silently bask in the intensity of my submission..  "Oh Peter," I
breathlessly whisper, my insides still churning from the ferocity of my
climax, "you make Mommy so happy.  Are you hungry from all your effort,
little guy ??  Do you want some milk ??  I seem to have squirted it
everywhere and I know you can smell it." Peter happily coos in reply, his
lips smacking while his little arms lift up and open wide, inviting an
engorged milky breast into his mouth.  After what Peter has done for me,
how can I not oblige.  First though, I gently kiss his lips, loving their
soft baby taste, then saying simply, "Thank you Peter." I am so tempted to
wiggle my tongue inside my little lover, to show him what french kissing is
like, just like I constantly do with my Daddy, but I resist, knowing that
he is mega-hungry.  He might just suck my tiny tongue right off, thinking
it's this new style of teat.  My rubbery dripping teat rubs across his
luscious little lips, both showing him where it is and also teasing.  Those
small pink lips open wide, blow this huge shimmering bubble, then take only
a second to greedily latch on.  The strongness of his latch makes me shiver
and moan.  Not only have my breasts swollen to 34DDs, but they've grown
more sensitive now that I'm continuously nursing.  His tiny hands press
against my milky boob, one palm on each side of my wet rubbery teat.  They
firmly press inward like he's trying to squeeze out even more milk.  From
his grip, I somehow know that he's going to grow up to be a "breast man."

   A girly giggle escapes my little lips cause right now, my mega- engorged
breast is so ungodly full, that squeezing is totally unnecessary. 
Actually, his pressing has the opposite effect.

   It makes my sweet Mommy's milk squirt out so fast that Peter massively
dribbles.  Rivulets of warm whiteness run down my throbbing udder, but I no
longer care, both my emerald eyes are again glazing over and my
still-sopping cunny is heating up.  Those happy and noisy suckling sounds
send tingles again through my body, fully awakening that wanton-woman
horniness that I thought had been so completely satiated.  I had just
strongly cum, and now my hungry Peter has made my girly body want to cum
again.  My clitty-cat again creeps out, begging for attention, but I ignore
it.  It will have to wait until later, wait for a wild and wanton sucking
and fucking session with Daddy.  "I'll just tell him that he can't have any
breast milk until he makes my clitty-cat hum, and cum," I gleefully giggle.
Even so, my horny hand so wants to creep back into Peter's rubber pants,
under his still-wet diaper, and feel his wobbling stubby stalk.  It so
wants to passionately play with his man-nipple, wait for its golden
dribbling, but I resist, this time.  I decide to let him greedily suckle in
peace and quiet.  We doze off just like that, mother and son, laying side
by side.  Peter greedily suckles my milky breast while my still-horny hand
slips between my widely-spread legs, teasing my girly puss.  I want to keep
those hot humid home-fires burning for Daddy.  He'll be surprised, or maybe
not, when he comes through the door.  After we've rested for over an hour,
it's time to get my little Peter dressed.  I've decided that Peter is not
abiding by the traditional "blue is for boys and pink is for girls" ritual.
I'll dress him however I want now, and he can dress himself however he
wants later.  When he's dressed in "girlish style" clothes and somebody I
don't know mistakes him for a girl, I just ignore it, letting them think
what they want.  Of course, when I tell them that the baby's name is
"Peter" they usually become oh so embarrassed and apologetic.  (I could
have been really rude and flipped up his skirt -- that big bulge tenting
out his diaper would surely set them straight !!) If he wants to, when he
grows up, I'll even let him wear *my* panties.  Though if he sprouts out
anything like his Daddy, my sheer lace panties won't be able to hold his
monstrous "baby- maker" even when it's soft, much less when it gets fully
erect.  If any of his girl friends are more hung-up on the "frilly
package," than the "contents," then it's their loss !!

   * * * * *

   The more Peter happily cooed and gurgled as we "played" together, again
and again, the braver I have gotten.  After all, Peter is happy, what could
be wrong ??  Initially, I justified to myself that the taking of his
baby-cock in my mouth was to "avoid his golden pee from getting all over
the place." Later, I said that my kissing his budding breasts and caressing
his wiggling man-nipple was "just showing my love" the same way another
mother would continuously kiss his face, his tummy, or ceaselessly nibble
on his toes.

   "How could anyone say that any part of a baby's sweet innocent body was
wrong to touch ??" my mind concluded.  Now at 4 months old, I have passed
the "point of no return" for a mommy -- now, my frantic fluttering fingers
play with Peter's baby-cock for no other reason than mine and his
enjoyments.  I had to think long and hard, my good and slutty sides at war,
but most of my motherly reservations had already been broken-down, a little
at a time, by my previous actions, *and* Peter does enjoy my intimate
touches !!  Prior to Peter, I had never seen a boy's cock before, much less
a little baby's.  The only *real* one I had ever seen was my Daddy's, and
*his* looked hugely different.  Remember, Ramona only had a baby girl and I
already knew what girls looked like -- I just had to peek under my short
skirt at my bald puffy mound since I usually don't wear panties anymore. 
<blush>

   Oh yeah, I did see quite a few long hard "swords" in Daddy's adult
reading "library," but those don't count.  None of them were real to look
at and touch.  Peter's darling dickie always looks so awfully cute, shaped
like this huge man-nipple or my lewdly popped belly-button stem when I was
pregnant, although much, much longer.  It was only about an inch and a half
long at birth, hardly a whopper, but has sprouted like all-get-out since
then.  It is like I'm feeding him Miracle-Grow, or maybe it's simply all
the attention it's getting.  If the latter is true, he's going to be "hung
like a horse" by the time he only 5 years old, much less 10 or 12.  Right
now, his wonderful wiener is about 2 inches long when flopped over,
silently lying there sleeping, and over 3 inches long when he has a
wobbling "stiffie." From what I can find out, that's huge for a little
baby. My pediatrician says that its size will vary with a number factors
and isn't concerned.  I, though, am overjoyed.  My sparkling emerald eyes
can now watch its entire fat pinkish head inflate since Peter was
circumcised five days after his birth.  Actually, I had touched him both
before and after his circumcision, so I know how his baby-cock felt both
ways.  I would have preferred him "au natural" but Daddy insisted on the
clipping.  "More and more, I've begun to think that "Peter" is a very
appropriate name for him," I giggle.  Now-a-days, Peter constantly lies
naked on my bed, on a rubber sheet, of course !!  I quietly lie next to him
as he happily coos and lovingly stare at him, well actually, at "it." His
darling dickie is just so beautiful and magnificent.  My eyes watch it
periodically wiggle back and forth, lengthening and shrinking, rooting all
around like it has a mind of its own.

   "His mouth always roots when its hungry, looking for warm wet Mommy's
milk," I ponder, "but I wonder what his baby-cock is rooting for."

   "Oh no," my mind gasps, this bright light snapping on, "it couldn't be
that.  He's still too young, although they say that the primal instinct is
with males from birth." My face flushes just thinking about that.  I
brighten even more as my naughty mind fantasizes about his stiff baby-cock
up inside me, poking and caressing that same pink flesh that he had
slithered down only 4 months before.  Months ago, I had resolved that Peter
would turn out to be a great lover even if I had to teach him myself. 
"Maybe, now is the time to begin," I ponder, my naked nipples hardening and
my plump pouting puss lewdly tingling.  That resolution had been lurking in
a dark corner of my mind ever since.  "It's just too much to think about,"
I moan, although my pussy grows wetter and wetter, now strongly throbbing
with grownup lust and desire.  It doesn't care who does the satisfying and
Daddy has been awfully busy lately.  "Oh God," the angelic side of my mind
screams at me, "you're becoming a genuine, card-carrying pervert." What can
I say, I guess I am.  Maybe his constant long thick stiffies are just
caused by some biological or bodily function.  "Yes, that has to be it," I
sigh both with relief and with sadness.  I remember reading in some baby
magazine that an ultrasound picture has been taken of a baby in his
mother's womb.  Later, the doctor and parents noticed that the baby had a
full-fledged erection, stiff as a spike, so it even happens *before* birth.

   A baby can't be thinking of propagating the species way back then.  With
my Peter, though, it happens constantly, and with him always naked, it's
hard to miss, but I'm not complaining.  I now enjoy both watching and
playing with his wobbling "ballpark frank." Once in a while, if his darling
dickie is soundly sleeping, not waking up quickly enough, I stick my index
finger in my mouth, sucking and wetting it with my heated saliva.  The
naughty side of my mind envisions something other than my index finger in
my mouth as my lusting lips wet and suckle even harder.  Soon, that
dripping index finger pops out, causing me to sigh, then gently strokes
that sleeping stalk, leaving this trail of hot wet saliva.  That cute
cocktail frank quickly jerks and jumps, then inches up his baby-belly,
obscenely stretching.  Suddenly, it grows longer and firmer, wriggling
around even more.

   Sometimes, I even tease it with my long red hair.  A shaking hand pulls
together a bunch of silky strands, like a pig-tail tip, then gently
caresses its entire length with wispy touches.  Not only does it stiffen
even harder in reply, but Peter's sweet coos grow more ragged, making me
giggle at my success.  As much as I enjoy that silky teasing, my
now-lusting lips soon can't resist its stiff wobbling magnetism.  From the
side, I slowly bend over and lick my warm wet tongue tip up and down that
thick reddish-brown rippled skin of his future ball-sack.  His angled feet
kick out even more frantically, like he on this marathon bike race.  I
simply adore the feelings those bumpy and wrinkled ridges make against my
torrid tongue.  Waves of shivers zoom through my entire body, most ending
up torturing my pouting puss and clitty-cat.  Just those few gentle warm
and wet licks cause that baby-cock to expand and stiffen even more.  That
fleshy-tube snakes down his baby-body, crawling over his right thigh, as it
lifts up, looking like this super-fat wiggling worm.  Peter always sweetly
coos and gurgles while either my fluttering fingers or torrid tongue
intimately caress him, so I know he's happy.  I`d *never* do anything to
intentionally hurt my Peter.  He's my pride and joy.  My now-horny hands
stroke his baby-belly a little faster, swirling and twirling all around,
then sneak down his to chubby thighs, feeling his soft creamy, but
quivering, flesh.  For right now, my fingers stay away from his wobbling
baby-cock, letting it expand on its own, my glazed-over eyes still watching
in awe.  "Let me put some baby oil on you," I sweetly coo.  My hands grab
that nearby bottle of baby oil, getting both thickly covered.  They begin
rubbing his belly, watching its flesh become shiny, but leaving his budding
breasts untouched.  Both slowly slip lower, totally coating his wiggling
thighs, while again, leaving his groin and that stiff wobbling stake
uncoated.  Peter coos and gurgles as my hot horny hands slip and slide,
fully enjoying both the oil and the baby massage he's receiving.  All the
time, his baby-cock just wiggles without my touch, growing stiffer and
stiffer, begging for intimate attention, then popping straight up like the
first sprout of Spring.  Suddenly, I lift Peter up, then roll over onto my
back.  My horny hands gently place him face-down on my soft still-rounded
belly, naked baby-flesh molding against naked and mega-horny mommy- flesh.

   He likes it there, snuggling even tighter up against me, his baby-
bottom wriggling all around.  His heated baby oil coats my lower body, but
I don't care.  It makes his slipping and sliding almost effortless, his
tiny legs and feet kicking in every direction at once, trying to crawl, but
right now, only flailing hot humid air.  His baby-cock hardens against my
lower belly, maybe from our rubbing, maybe from something more primitive,
more instinctive.  Its incessant poking and prodding floods my mind with
warm and very wicked thoughts.

   That stiff little spear suddenly finds my belly-button and presses
inside as far as it can.  His tiny hips begin bouncing on my belly, swiftly
reminding me of something only men know how to do, fanning the small fires
of lust inside my body into infernos.  "How does Peter know to do this ??"
my mind wonders, but not really caring about the answer as his instinctive
poking and prodding feels too marvelous.  "Maybe, if I move him down just a
little," my muddled mind ponders, "he'll poke in the right spot."
Surprisingly, no part of my horny body, not even my angelic side, protests.
That's how far gone my smoldering flesh is right then.  My shaking hesitant
hands slide him down, that slippery baby oil making it oh so easy.  That
throbbing stiff spear pokes back at me even harder, somehow knowing where
it is going, begging me to slide his cute baby-body down even farther.

   I pause his heated decent as his very stiff and wonderful wiener roughly
rubs my clitty-cat.  Those two mega-sexy stalks are soon fighting this
heated sword battle, male and female stalks grinding, puffy pink heads
rubbing and butting over and over again.  Millions of moans escape my
wide-open mouth as Peter continues to wiggle and thrust, this inexhaustible
ball of energy.  Finally, his "ballpark frank" overwhelms my much smaller
clitty-cat, my short sensuous staff completely surrendering.

   That wiggling wiener now thumps and thrashes my clitty-cat, reinforcing
it's superiority.  Even my baby's naughty cock has beaten my sweet
clitty-cat, but somehow I don't mind, long loud sighs escaping from between
my widely-parted lips.  "If losing could always make me this happy," my
mind sings.  I rock his contented oil-coated baby-body back and forth, his
stiff sword roughly rubbing my now-submissive clitty and its sensitive
hood. Stronger and stronger tingles zoom through my body, not leaving a
single quivering cell untouched.

   Throughout all this, Peter usually happily coos, though sometimes
grunts, but always very contented with what's happening.  He has always
loved being roughly rocked, especially against my warm body, so he's in his
element right now, and maybe, soon in mine too.  "Dare I ??" this dark
portion of my mind asks.  Without waiting for an answer, I slide Peter down
my shivering body even lower, that stiff jutting spear finally thrusting
slightly between my plump over-heated pussy lips.  Luckily, I'm just as
smooth as he is down there, so there are no curls or stubble to bother his
sensitive skin.  My legs automatically spread even farther apart, my
smoldering pussy becoming this wide-open over-heated "V," welcoming his
stiff male member.  He doesn't complain one little bit as I mold his
pliable baby-body to mine, letting that 3-inch cigar-like stiffie push in
even further.  "God-d-d, even the lightest touch of his darling dickie
feels so marvelous, " I contentedly murmur.

   Its bloated pink tip firmly caresses my swollen and sensitive pussy
lips, sometimes plunging inside, always happily mingling with my hot humid
stickiness.  The warm wet heat around his baby-cock must be a new feeling
for Peter, but he doesn't seem to mind, and "I" surely don't.  Both my
swollen pussy lips flutter, warming welcoming this stiff intruder. 
Abruptly, they tightly close, hugging his "ballpark frank," making it my
prisoner, while wrapping it in their smoldering wet warmth.  My legs wrap
around his tiny back as my sweet "mommyness" totally disappears, now
replaced by this animalistic horniness.  I need so badly to cum, and cum
hard.  I rub and rock my Peter up and down my throbbing bottom, clenching
him tighter and tighter, oiled flesh against oiled flesh, baby against
mommy, lover against lover.

   Momentarily I pause.  Both my shivering hands slide Peter down a little
lower, then snake behind his back meeting my heels.  Both frantically
clutch his baby-buns, my arms wrapping around his supple baby-body, pulling
him even tighter up against that hot yearning and sputtering inferno
between my legs.  In response, his stiff and throbbing spear sinks in even
deeper, now poking and prodding my sensitive cunny-canal walls, while his
outtie belly-button sin-suously attacks my erect wiggling but still-
submissive clitty-cat.  That mega-erotic combination rockets me closer and
closer to an earthshattering and mind-altering climax.

   During all this, Peter simply giggles and gurgles, enjoying the
increasingly rougher rocking, enjoying the intimate attention he is
getting, and giving.  He is such a good baby.  "Come on Peter, I need just
a little bit more," my panting lips coax and coo in between guttural gasps.
A mighty volcanic eruption builds inside my shaking and shivering girly
body.  I'm almost there but not quite.  My arms and heels hug Peter to my
horny flesh even harder, his baby-body almost totally slipping up into
mine, following the exact same path he had so recently dropped down.

   His flailing feet even help, constantly kicking out against the wet and
wrinkled sheets.  It's his reflexive prelude to crawling, but right now
they push his stiff little spear even further up inside me.  "Pleeezzzeee
Peter, make Mommy cum," I pleadingly cry, "She needs it so badly." As if
understanding my words, his invading baby-cock stiffens harder, then
twitches all around, it bloated pink head caressing his Mommy's tender pink
insides.  Those super-sin-suous rubs inside my cunny-canal are enough to
push my straining body to the edge of that cliff, but not quite over. 
"Ooooooh God, I'm almost there.  Just a little more Peter," I cry, my head
thrashing from side-to-side, my curtain of long red hair swirling
everywhere, tickling and teasing his head and upper back.  As if
understanding my horrendous need, with a loud lingering coo, Peter's
stiffie begins hotly peeing up inside me.  I'm mortified as his searing
golden gushes blast my insides, again and again, but every inch of my
tender tingling inside-flesh quivers, then violently spasms, swiftly
pushing my straining body over that marvelous cliff edge.  "Ooooooh
yesssssss," I scream, hugging Peter even tighter so he doesn't fall off. 
My poor body bounces and bucks, twists and turns, Peter becoming this
bucking bronco rider as his golden juices gush out from my still-spasming
puss.  Even while I'm so gloriously cumming, his stiff-as-steel baby-cock
twitches up inside me, still squirting hot caressing pee, pushing my climax
even higher, making my yearning body crest with more hot and horny
intensity than it even has before.  I can't believe that he's only a baby
and is making my entire womanly body feel this good.  "Keep going, keep
going," I frantically plead with my bucking body and with him, but neither
listens, my super-sensuous spasms growing fewer and fewer.

   "Damn, it's over, for now anyway," my muddled mind unhappily mutters. 
Finally, I collapse, a huge heap of hot, sweaty, and pee-soaked, but very
satisfied, atoms.  Every nerve in my womanly body has been touched, every
pleasure center jolted by sharp bursts of electricity.  I am totally wiped
out.  Peter still securely lies on my lower belly, his baby-body all wet
and sticky, and not from only that baby oil.  His stiff little spear has
softened and slipped out, but sensuously dangles against my wet panting
puss, those two lovers warmly cuddling in their afterglow.  "God, that was
so great," my mind repeats over and over.  Nobody had ever peed inside me
before.  I always thought it was so gross, but my little Peter taught his
Mommy a thing or two, completely changing her mind.  Now, I can't wait for
it to happen again.  "I wonder if I can coax Daddy into doing it," my mind
stutters and stammers, not really believing what it's hearing.  "Hmm, maybe
tonight," my lips softly murmur, as my face brightly grins.  I think Daddy
will enjoy the surprise.  Reluctantly, with a deep soul-searching sigh, I
roll Peter off my still-quivering belly, immediately surrounding him with
bolsters so he can't roll anywhere.  Within minutes, as his golden pee
still drips out my puffy puss, we both happily and very contentedly doze
off.  My last thought as I doze off is whether Peter climaxed too.  I
remember his baby-cock twitching, wildly wiggling all around.  I know that
he's a decade too young to cum, but maybe that wild wiggling was the
equivalent of a baby-climax.  Can a baby pee and climax at the same time ??
"I sure hope so," I softly mutter.  I want Peter to be as satisfied as I
am.

   "We should try it again, in the interest of science, of course," I add
with a ragged girly giggle as my eyes slowly close.  I lingeringly wake up
a half hour later, every inch of my naked flesh still glowing, but my
insides surprisingly horny.  Usually a climax even half that strong would
satisfy me for the rest of the day, or two or three, but with Peter's
curled up baby-body lying so close, feeling so warm, and looking so cuddly,
I'm instantly horny again, my two milky spouts puckered and ready.  I only
regret that I couldn't have taken a color picture of that last time - our
first time happily satisfying each other.  It would have been such a
wonderful gift to give him after he'd grown older, a picture of his first
fuck.  Of course, I'd keep a copy to masturbate to in my old age.  It would
have been such a hoot to show my baby boy that even as a wee little baby,
he had been so huge and horny - talk about blackmail material.  Somehow, I
think his future girlfriend might get a kick out of it too.  The thought of
the two of them together, reenacting every curve in that picture makes me
shiver, but I'm rushing things - he's only 4 months old.  Now I'm really
horny.  One shaking hand reaches over and begins caressing his creamy
baby-flesh again, just lightly, not waking him up.  God, his brandy-new
flesh feels so soft and smooth, and I just love his baby-powder smell.  I
can sniff him all day long, even the parts of him still covered with my
dried girly juices.  "You're such a good baby," I softly murmur, "pleasing
your Mommy so much." That naughty hand now caresses his twin swollen
breast-mounds, for the millionth time, feeling their firm fullness.  If
they remain this large relative to his body, he'll surely be teased about
it as he grows older, more than a few girls becoming super-envious, but
I'll always support him, and more.  My fluttering fingers next toy with his
naughty nipples as my pussy tingles.  Both instantly protrude for me,
proudly standing at attention, totally enjoying my feather-like caresses. I
watch him wriggle, either just tossing in his sleep, or my tantalizing
touches are making him horny again too.  After another minute of playing
with his bloated breast buds, my petite palm slides lower, my finger tips
rubbing all around his outtie belly-button.  That's what teased my
clitty-cat so badly when we just mated, its stickiness bringing back hot
erotic memories.  Peter's breath quickens too, his darling dickie wriggling
all around, but he still remains asleep.  My mind wonders what he could be
dreaming about with his baby- cock wriggling and jumping like that.  Is it
just a simple reflex action, some type of REM, or is he having his version
of a baby erotic dream ??

   I have absolutely no idea, but that isn't my primary concern right now.
My girly body has again grown mega-horny and so badly needs to be
satisfied. After gently stroking his smooth baby-flesh a few minutes more,
my emerald eyes intently watching his baby-cock grow so much longer and
thicker, I just can't wait any longer.  My naked mommy- body crawls up
between his cycling legs, my flushed face poised just over that wiggling
semi-hard baby-cock.

   This time though, right next to my body is my favorite big black
vibrator, the one with the mega-bloated veins and billions of blunt
nubbies..  This way, I can use both hands to passionately caress my sweet
cuddly baby while I explode inside.  One shaking hand turns that black
vibrator on low, then slips it up inside my sopping wet puss.  That black
vibrator looks kind-of weird jutting way out of my lily-white body, more
sticking out of my petite cunny than stuffed inside.  That will soon
change.

   Having recently birthed Peter and now being so horny and wet, it slips
in effortlessly, not even needing much of a shove.  I don't even gasp or
sharply inhale, but I know that will change once it's shoved in farther and
its vibrations reach my still-sensitive womb.  "Ooooooh, how good it
feels," I moan as its constant low-level vibrations get to me.  My hand
pushes that black vibrator in farther still, making sure it doesn't touch
my womb yet.  Both lusting lips drop lower and lower, finally licking all
around the tip of his stiffening magic wand.  His wonderful wiener no
longer looks like a wriggling snake, having mostly stiffened, proudly
lifting up and out from the soft chubby baby-fat on his groin.  It's now
maybe 2 ½ inches long, not yet its full steel-stiff 3+ inches.

   My heated breath caresses its bloating dark pink head, intently watching
that circumcised knob swell fuller and rounder.  It's no where near as
plump as Daddy's fat purple plum, but for a 4- month-old, it's simply
awesome.  Even with his miniature flagpole wildly wobbling and waving, my
Peter still sleeps.  I wonder what he's now dreaming about with his darling
dickie sticking up so straight and tall, but still not totally hard.  "Mmm,
I know how to make him fully hard," I wickedly giggle, this very naughty
grin crossing my angelic freckled face.  Without a single sound, I open my
little lips, forming an "O" that is as old as time itself.  Diving down, I
totally engulf his little stiffie, right down to its pulsating wrinkled
root, my red-hot breath caressing every inch of its no-longer virgin flesh.

   My naughty tongue swirls all around its root, its stiff tip lewdly
licking his chubby groin-mound of delicious baby fat.  I suckle hard on
that wonderful wiener, stretching its skin farther into my mouth, coaxing
more and more blood to flow into it, and making his baby- bottom quiver. 
That last strong suckle wakes Peter up.  His bright eyes sparkle, happily
cooing even more, though his tone has changed a little.  He seems to enjoy
being woken this way.  As I suckle harder and faster, increasing my strong
suction, I feel his stiffening spear jump out longer and fatter in my
mouth, almost at his full rock-solid 3+ inches.  That makes me ever so
proud, both of him and of what my lips can do to him.  He's surely going to
grow into a very lusty little boy, or should that be "big" boy.  Every time
his stiff throbbing baby-cock pulses, tickling the back of my mouth, I
strongly shiver.  Little dribbles of heated girly juice ooze around that
humming vibrator, then run down my trembling thighs.

   "God, I so love to feel his baby-cock swell in my mouth," my mind
murmurs, "It makes me feel so good inside."

   At the same time, both my horny hands firmly caress up and down his
baby-body, feeling every chubby curve.  They gingerly massage his soft
baby-flesh, rubbing his two swollen breast-buds, toying with his bulging
belly-button, finally feeling the smooth soft skin on his thighs.

   My hot hands are everywhere at once on his baby-body, every sin- suous
touch immediately zipping to my vibrating puss and my erect twitching
clitty-cat.  I am running on automatic pilot, my girly body climbing higher
and higher toward an earthshattering climax.  His little legs kick and
bicycle on both sides of my head, rubbing my ears and hair, enclosing me
and making me feel so content.  I can't wait until he can wrap those little
legs all the way around my fluffy red head, pulling it in even closer,
deeply burying my lusting lips in his chubby groin, holding it captive as I
greedily suckle.  My muddled mind wanders.  I so wish he'd violently cum
today, filling my mouth to overflowing with his hot creamy goodness, but I
know that's years away.  Still, I can't wait for him to grow up, to be able
to happily fill me up on both ends, not just my lusting lips.  A strong rub
against my ear by a cycling little leg brings me back to reality.  I just
can't wait to cum any longer, my puckered teats are already dripping warm
sweet Mommy's milk all by themselves, creating these two shimmering white
puddles between his little legs.  One hand reaches down, switching that big
black vibrator onto high.  Taking a deep breath through my nose since my
munching mouth is full, that same hand shoves its big black tip tightly up
against my sensitive womb, holding it in place for a moment.

   My body bucks from the sin-suous shock, then settles into this
increasing spiral, growing hotter and hotter, flying higher and higher. 
Both lust-filled lips suckle that stiff mini-spear even harder, my grunts
and groans seeping out all around his rock-hard baby- cock.  Suddenly my
lips just have to let go, I'm finally there.  This loud guttural "Ooooooh
God" shoots out, echoing around our bedroom, immediately followed by a
myriad of mixed-up moans and groans.  Beads of sweat ripple down my face,
streaking down my neck and chest, some mixing with my warm sweet milk, then
dripping from my ripe rubbery teats.  My climaxing body bucks and bounces
between his chubby legs from wave after heated wave of delicious
sensations. I never climax as hard as I do with my Peter.  I have to force
my shaking hand to switch off that black vibrator, but in a compromise with
my horny puss, I leave it inside me, my over-stretched cunny walls still
savoring its thick fullness.  As quickly as my mind-blowing climax comes,
it's unfortunately over, my washed-out, but infinitely happy, girly body
collapsing on the bed beside my Peter, my baby, my little lover.  My glassy
eyes note that his penis-tower has now fallen over, shrinking again up his
chubby thigh, but it still brightly sparkles and glistens from my hot wet
saliva.  "God, I feel so good," my happy mind repeats over and over again.
Using the little strength that I have left, I crawl up the bed beside my
happy baby, his little lips still cooing, his small eyes brightly glowing.
For all that he has given me, he deserves a little extra.  I wipe the salty
sweat off of my dribbling teat, then sensuously rub his little lips with
it. He instantly begins rooting, quickly latching on.  I tell you, even as
much as he eats, my baby-boy is always ready to suckle more, just like his
Mommy.  We fall asleep like that, Mommy smiling and baby suckling, just how
it should be, both happy, healthy, and very contented.  I hope it stays
this way for many years to cum.  My mind contentedly dreams about a much
older Peter - picturing how he'll look at 8, 12, and even 18 years old. 
For some odd reason though, my probing dream-eyes never lift higher than
his waist, nor drop lower than his knees.  I guess that's both how it is,
and forever will be, in our very happy family.
   
THE END