I slipped my hand from her soft fingers and, in a move that befits the role of a friend without a gender indication in front of it, I stroked her hair...away from her face. Highly rewarded was I, with a small mewl of contentment. I stood and took a very cold shower. I would have liked to analyze both my feelings and the situation more, but my weariness got the better of me and bed called. I drew the curtain as quietly as I could and walked to my bed. As the cold sheets wrapped around me, I. I put Marie back down on the love seat, gently picked up the baby, and put it next to her lovely breasts. The nipples were fully popped and a delicate brown color. The baby still cried but then, ever so slowly, it found the nipple, smashed with his tongue, drew with his lips, and was rewarded with a powerful spray of vanilla-tasting mother's milk. Silence descended except for the intoxicating sound of suckling.You can imagine how my dear mother felt throughout all of this. The nipples on her. More

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