Erotica Story of Gita

[RajuWalvan]

Part 1

I grew up in a culture where breastfeeding was only for babies. Once a child was weaned, that was it. Nursing older kids or adults was unheard of. That belief stayed with me even after I married and moved to Walvan with my husband and children.

In Walvan, things were different. My neighbors Sujata and Manisha nursed not only their children but also their elderly father-in-law and brother-in-law. It was normal here, part of the village’s tradition. Suhana, another neighbor, often fed her nephew Ramesh. Aarti did the same for her young nephews. I watched all this quietly, unsure of what to think.

One afternoon, while I was feeding my infant, Suhana came over with Ramesh. I sat on the floor, my blouse open as my baby suckled on my breast. Suhana sat down beside me and smiled. “Do you have enough milk?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Can he have some?” She gestured toward her older nephew Ramesh. He was a tall young man. I knew he enjoyed sucking his aunts breasts. He had a smirk on his face, saying 'I'm doing it for more than milk'

I hesitated. My heart raced as Ramesh moved toward me. His eyes were fixed on my pink nipples. He knelt in front of me, resting his hand on my knee. His eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted. Slowly, I opened my blouse, exposing my free breast.

Ramesh leaned in. His breath was warm against my breast before his mouth held my nipple. His tongue licked my nipple, sending a sharp tingle through me. His suckling was stronger than my baby’s, his tongue pressing firmly against my nipple. A soft moan escaped me as his hand slid up and held my breast, resting on the curve. His thumb brushed my areola as he adjusted his grip, sealing his mouth around me.

The milk began to flow, and his pulls became deeper. His tongue pressed against the underside of my nipple, pulling the milk out. Warmth spread through my chest, grounding me. His other hand gripped my waist, his fingers digging slightly into my side as he settled into a steady rhythm.

Suddenly, Mohan walked in. His eyes narrowed when he saw a older teen sucking my breast. He rushed toward me and tugged at my arm. “I want it too!”

I tried to calm him, but he pushed me. I put my infant down and let him suck my breast. My nipple were still covered with mix of my infants saliva and my milk.

Mohan latched onto my breast, pulling hard. His suckling was more frantic, his tongue pressing firmly against me. After a few moments, he pulled away, frowning. “It’s sour,” he said.

Suhana leaned toward him and smiled. “Would you like to try mine?”

Mohan hesitated, but her large breasts envied him. Suhana slid her hand under the blouse, let her large breast spill free. Her large nipple stood out. Mohan’s small hands reached for her as he latched on. His eyes fluttered shut as he suckled deeply. I watched, stunned, feeling exposed but calm. Mohan held her breast with both his hand, pressing and sucking in a motion.

That night, I lay awake replaying the moment. The feel of Ramesh’s mouth on me, the strength of his suckling, and the way Mohan turned to Suhana so easily stayed with me. It stirred something in me—a quiet curiosity and a sense of comfort.

 

[Manju143]

Part 1

I grew up in a culture where breastfeeding was only for babies. Once a child was weaned, that was it. Nursing older kids or adults was unheard of. That belief stayed with me even after I married and moved to Walvan with my husband and children.

In Walvan, things were different. My neighbors Sujata and Manisha nursed not only their children but also their elderly father-in-law and brother-in-law. It was normal here, part of the village’s tradition. Suhana, another neighbor, often fed her nephew Ramesh. Aarti did the same for her young nephews. I watched all this quietly, unsure of what to think.

One afternoon, while I was feeding my infant, Suhana came over with Ramesh. I sat on the floor, my blouse open as my baby suckled on my breast. Suhana sat down beside me and smiled. “Do you have enough milk?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Can he have some?” She gestured toward her older nephew Ramesh. He was a tall young man. I knew he enjoyed sucking his aunts breasts. He had a smirk on his face, saying 'I'm doing it for more than milk'

I hesitated. My heart raced as Ramesh moved toward me. His eyes were fixed on my pink nipples. He knelt in front of me, resting his hand on my knee. His eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted. Slowly, I opened my blouse, exposing my free breast.

Ramesh leaned in. His breath was warm against my breast before his mouth held my nipple. His tongue licked my nipple, sending a sharp tingle through me. His suckling was stronger than my baby’s, his tongue pressing firmly against my nipple. A soft moan escaped me as his hand slid up and held my breast, resting on the curve. His thumb brushed my areola as he adjusted his grip, sealing his mouth around me.

The milk began to flow, and his pulls became deeper. His tongue pressed against the underside of my nipple, pulling the milk out. Warmth spread through my chest, grounding me. His other hand gripped my waist, his fingers digging slightly into my side as he settled into a steady rhythm.

Suddenly, Mohan walked in. His eyes narrowed when he saw a older teen sucking my breast. He rushed toward me and tugged at my arm. “I want it too!”

I tried to calm him, but he pushed me. I put my infant down and let him suck my breast. My nipple were still covered with mix of my infants saliva and my milk.

Mohan latched onto my breast, pulling hard. His suckling was more frantic, his tongue pressing firmly against me. After a few moments, he pulled away, frowning. “It’s sour,” he said.

Suhana leaned toward him and smiled. “Would you like to try mine?”

Mohan hesitated, but her large breasts envied him. Suhana slid her hand under the blouse, let her large breast spill free. Her large nipple stood out. Mohan’s small hands reached for her as he latched on. His eyes fluttered shut as he suckled deeply. I watched, stunned, feeling exposed but calm. Mohan held her breast with both his hand, pressing and sucking in a motion.

That night, I lay awake replaying the moment. The feel of Ramesh’s mouth on me, the strength of his suckling, and the way Mohan turned to Suhana so easily stayed with me. It stirred something in me—a quiet curiosity and a sense of comfort.

Nice writing.
The story is good to read but show the old man feeding milk in the story

 

[jasminballsinger]

another great story, thanks Bro.. please don't change anything.. keep writing your way.

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 2


Gita walked toward Sujata and Manisha’s house, curious and eager. After her recent experience with Ramesh and Mohan, she had been reflecting deeply about breastfeeding and the comfort it seemed to provide—not just to children, but even to adults in Walvan. She had seen how natural it was for Sujata and Manisha to nurse their elderly father-in-law and brother-in-law, but today she would see it up close.

When Gita entered the house, Sujata and Manisha were seated on the floor, their breasts hanging loose. Their father-in-law and brother-in-law sat comfortably beside them, each leaning toward the women expectantly. Sujata’s father-in-law, an older man with a strong frame and sharp eyes, watched her closely as she settled down.

“Are you both going to make me wait?” he grumbled, his gaze lingering on Sujata’s chest. “You both have so much milk—why are you holding back?”

Sujata’s jaw tightened. She pulled her saree aside, exposing her full bust. Her nipple was already stiff, a small drop of milk clinging to the tip. She had large but firm breast. Her father-in-law’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his teethless mouth latching onto her without hesitation. His lips sealed around her nipple, and his tongue pressed firmly beneath it as he began to suck.

Gita sat with her knees pulled to her chest, watching closely. Her gaze was fixed on the way Sujata’s breast moved with each pull. The sound of suction filled the air, wet and rhythmic. Gita’s breath quickened as Sujata’s nipple darkened slightly from the pressure, and a thin stream of milk escaped the corner of her father-in-law’s mouth.

Manisha’s brother-in-law sat beside her, his eyes already focused on her chest. “Come on, Manisha,” he said with a smirk. “You know I need it.”

Manisha sighed, her breast smaller than sujata, but her nipple was already engorged. Her brother-in-law leaned in, his mouth wrapping around her nipple. His hand slid over the side of her breast, pressing into her skin as he suckled deeply.

Gita’s eyes followed the curve of Manisha’s breast, the way her nipple tightened under the pulling. She could see the slight tremor in Manisha’s arm as she adjusted her position. The sound of swallowing filled the room, heavy and deliberate.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Manisha snapped, slapping his hand away.

Sujata’s father-in-law pulled back slightly, licking his lips. “It’s not like we’re asking for much,” he said. “You have enough to share.”

Sujata’s eyes flashed. “Sasurji focus on me. I don't have all day.” she said sharply. “Stop playing with my other breast or you will get a slap too.”

Her father-in-law chuckled, his mouth finding her nipple again. His tongue circled the nipple before pulling deeply. Sujata’s hand clenched into a fist as she endured the his gimmick.

Gita’s heart raced as she watched the tension in Sujata’s face. Sujata’s breast was swollen, the skin taut as milk flowed freely into her father-in-law’s mouth.

Manisha’s brother-in-law’s hand crept up toward her other breast. “I swear, Bhaiya have no shame,” she muttered "I'm your brother wife". She pushed his hand away, but he leaned in, suckling harder. Her chest tightened under the pressure.

Gita could feel her own nipples tighten as she watched Manisha’s nipple slip from her brother-in-law’s mouth, a thin line of milk trailing down his chin. The sight made Gita’s breath hitch.

After a while, Sujata’s father-in-law finally pulled away, wiping his mouth. “That’s better,” he said with a satisfied sigh.

Manisha’s brother-in-law sat back, looking at her with a lazy smile. “I could go again,” he teased.

Manisha scowled. “Try it, and you’ll leave with a broken arm.”

Despite their frustration, both women allowed the men to nurse again. Gita couldn’t tell if it was habit or obligation, but it left her wondering about her own limits—and what it truly meant to give this kind of comfort.

 

[Manju143]

Update 2


Gita walked toward Sujata and Manisha’s house, curious and eager. After her recent experience with Ramesh and Mohan, she had been reflecting deeply about breastfeeding and the comfort it seemed to provide—not just to children, but even to adults in Walvan. She had seen how natural it was for Sujata and Manisha to nurse their elderly father-in-law and brother-in-law, but today she would see it up close.

When Gita entered the house, Sujata and Manisha were seated on the floor, their breasts hanging loose. Their father-in-law and brother-in-law sat comfortably beside them, each leaning toward the women expectantly. Sujata’s father-in-law, an older man with a strong frame and sharp eyes, watched her closely as she settled down.

“Are you both going to make me wait?” he grumbled, his gaze lingering on Sujata’s chest. “You both have so much milk—why are you holding back?”

Sujata’s jaw tightened. She pulled her saree aside, exposing her full bust. Her nipple was already stiff, a small drop of milk clinging to the tip. She had large but firm breast. Her father-in-law’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his teethless mouth latching onto her without hesitation. His lips sealed around her nipple, and his tongue pressed firmly beneath it as he began to suck.

Gita sat with her knees pulled to her chest, watching closely. Her gaze was fixed on the way Sujata’s breast moved with each pull. The sound of suction filled the air, wet and rhythmic. Gita’s breath quickened as Sujata’s nipple darkened slightly from the pressure, and a thin stream of milk escaped the corner of her father-in-law’s mouth.

Manisha’s brother-in-law sat beside her, his eyes already focused on her chest. “Come on, Manisha,” he said with a smirk. “You know I need it.”

Manisha sighed, her breast smaller than sujata, but her nipple was already engorged. Her brother-in-law leaned in, his mouth wrapping around her nipple. His hand slid over the side of her breast, pressing into her skin as he suckled deeply.

Gita’s eyes followed the curve of Manisha’s breast, the way her nipple tightened under the pulling. She could see the slight tremor in Manisha’s arm as she adjusted her position. The sound of swallowing filled the room, heavy and deliberate.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Manisha snapped, slapping his hand away.

Sujata’s father-in-law pulled back slightly, licking his lips. “It’s not like we’re asking for much,” he said. “You have enough to share.”

Sujata’s eyes flashed. “Sasurji focus on me. I don't have all day.” she said sharply. “Stop playing with my other breast or you will get a slap too.”

Her father-in-law chuckled, his mouth finding her nipple again. His tongue circled the nipple before pulling deeply. Sujata’s hand clenched into a fist as she endured the his gimmick.

Gita’s heart raced as she watched the tension in Sujata’s face. Sujata’s breast was swollen, the skin taut as milk flowed freely into her father-in-law’s mouth.

Manisha’s brother-in-law’s hand crept up toward her other breast. “I swear, Bhaiya have no shame,” she muttered "I'm your brother wife". She pushed his hand away, but he leaned in, suckling harder. Her chest tightened under the pressure.

Gita could feel her own nipples tighten as she watched Manisha’s nipple slip from her brother-in-law’s mouth, a thin line of milk trailing down his chin. The sight made Gita’s breath hitch.

After a while, Sujata’s father-in-law finally pulled away, wiping his mouth. “That’s better,” he said with a satisfied sigh.

Manisha’s brother-in-law sat back, looking at her with a lazy smile. “I could go again,” he teased.

Manisha scowled. “Try it, and you’ll leave with a broken arm.”

Despite their frustration, both women allowed the men to nurse again. Gita couldn’t tell if it was habit or obligation, but it left her wondering about her own limits—and what it truly meant to give this kind of comfort.

Very well written second update. What was meant to be read in the story is written in the story.

Thanks for the nice update.

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 3

Next day, Gita still hesitant stepped into Suhana’s home, the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the open windows. The air carried the faint scent of turmeric and freshly ground spices from the kitchen, mixing with the quiet hum of conversation in the next room. She moved carefully, her eyes adjusting to the dimmer interior, when she spotted Suhana sitting uncomfortably on the table, Ravi leaned against her body.

Ravi, a sturdy man with dark, expressive eyes, was latched onto Suhana’s breast, his hands pressing against her large breast for balance. His lips moved rhythmically, a quiet, wet sound accompanying each suckle. Suhana cradled him, her fingers idly stroking his thick curls as she leaned back, her expression relaxed but distant, lost in thought. Ravi was not her child but her brother-in-law, yet she fed him as if he were her own.

Gita stood still, careful not to disturb them, her gaze lingering on the scene before her.

There was an undeniable intimacy in the moment, a quiet bond between women and man that extended beyond simple nourishment. Gita noticed how Ravi’s hands moved between her legs. He occasionally wet his fingers and sneak them in her vagina. Suhana, in turn, adjusted herself slightly, ensuring he didnt have perfect access. It was clear she was both enjoying it and resented her position.

Gita swallowed. The scene should have felt ordinary, given everything she had come to accept in this village, yet something about witnessing Suhana feeding her brother in law stirred something deep within her. It was different from the first time she had seen extended feeding—when she had hesitated, unsure of how to reconcile it with her upbringing. Now, she felt something else entirely: understanding.

Suhana shifted slightly, causing Ravi to let out a small grunt of protest. She chuckled softly, brushing her fingers over his forehead before adjusting herself again. Ravi resumed feeding, more settled this time, his eyes fluttering shut in contentment. The moment felt sacred in its simplicity.

Gita took a slow breath, feeling the weight of her own acceptance settling in. The world she had stepped into was no longer unfamiliar—it was a part of her now. Without a word, she turned, careful not to break the peace of the moment, and stepped back into the sunlit corridor, her thoughts lingering on the scene she had just witnessed.

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 4

As I walked with Leela and Aarti toward Manisha and Sujata’s home, the warm afternoon air carried the scent of blooming jasmine. Our conversation were focused on her nephew Raju, but my mind lingered on what I had heard—that Manisha and Sujata had begun expressing milk for Dadaji and Bhaiya instead of nursing them directly. The shift had caused a stir, and I wanted to see for myself how they were adjusting.

Inside, the home was calm, but there was an underlying tension. Dadaji sat on a cushioned bench, sipping from a metal cup, while Bhaiya waited nearby, his gaze fixed on Sujata’s bust as she poured fresh milk into a vessel. They both carried a sense of entitlement, their expectation of being fed unchanged despite the new method.

Manisha and Sujata greeted us warmly, but their exhaustion was evident. “This way feels… easier,” Manisha admitted, gesturing toward the milk-filled containers. “At least we get some space.”

I studied their expressions, understanding their weariness. I had already embraced extended feeding in ways I never thought possible, and now, I wanted to fully integrate into their traditions. A thought formed in my mind, a desire both to experience the act itself and to be seen as one of them.

I turned my gaze to Bhaiya. His eyes, sharp and assessing, carried a mix of dissatisfaction and expectation. I knew I was different from the other women in the village—my fair skin, my more delicate frame, my smaller yet well-shaped breasts often set me apart. Would he see me as weak, or would he welcome the offer?

“Would you rather be nursed directly?” I asked, my voice steady despite the weight of the moment.

He smirked, shifting slightly. “If you’re offering,” he said, his tone teasing but undeniably eager.

Sujata and Manisha exchanged uncertain glances. “Are you sure?” Sujata asked, her voice laced with hesitation. “It’s not the same as feeding a child.”

“I want to,” I replied, my lips curving into a small, knowing smile. I wanted to feel that connection, the raw intimacy of it, the acceptance that came with it. But more than anything, I wanted to prove to myself that I truly belonged.

Without further thought, I stepped closer and settled beside Bhaiya. A deep breath steadied me as I opened my blouse. My fingers trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the anticipation of something new. As I revealed myself, Bhaiya’s gaze flickered with intrigue before he leaned in.

His mouth latched firmly, and I gasped softly at the sudden warmth and pressure. His hands instinctively gripped the base of my chest to steady himself, and I felt the strength in his hold. His suction was strong, more demanding than I was used to, but I welcomed it. The pull was deep, sending tingles through my body, anchoring me in the moment.

A part of me wondered what he thought of me—of my nipple size, my milk taste, my milk flow. Did he find me different? Did it matter? I felt his tongue move, pulling more from me, and I relaxed into the rhythm, letting him take what he needed. This was different from nursing a child—this was something more deliberate, something I was choosing. The women saw, I was enjoying the connection, I let bhaiya fondle and touch my breasts which the duo didn't tolerate. I wanted him to enjoy so he could please me in return.

Leela, already aroused watching quietly, finally turned to Manisha. “I don’t mind helping either,” she said.

Manisha and Sujata hesitated for a moment before nodding, their initial reluctance giving way to quiet relief. As I continued to feed, the room’s tension gradually melted away, replaced by an unspoken understanding between us women. In that moment, I knew—I was no longer just an outsider looking in.

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 5

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the courtyard as I watched my children leave for school. My husband had already departed for work, and my in-laws were settled inside, busy with their routines. The house felt momentarily quiet, yet an undercurrent of anticipation filled me.

As expected, Bhaiya arrived soon after. He stepped inside, his expression unreadable yet knowing. We had agreed upon this after our first feeding. He started feeling my breasts over my blouse. Without a word, I turned and led him towards my bedroom, my heart steady but my mind alert. Each step carried the weight of something unspoken, I wanted to try somethjng suhana did with her Brother in law.

Just as I reached for the door, the soft rustling of fabric made me pause. Turning, I found my mother-in-law standing at the end of the hallway, her gaze sharp with curiosity and mild shock. Her eyes flickered between Bhaiya and me, settling on the my loose blouse as I removed it. She had caught me in the moment of preparation, her presence unexpected yet unavoidable.

“You’re feeding him?” she asked, her voice measured, though laced with disbelief.

I met her gaze, my own unwavering. “Yes,” I answered, my tone firm yet calm. “I wanted to understand where I fit in, how I could embrace this fully.”

Her eyes drifted over me, her scrutiny lingering longer than usual. “And yet, you hesitate with your Sasur Ji,” she stated, her arms crossing over her chest. “He is unwell and needs your milk too.”

I inhaled deeply, fingers brushing over his hairs, gathering my thoughts. “I know. But feeding an elder is… different. I want to understand it first, to feel comfortable before I take that step.”

She studied me, the weight of generations pressing into her stare. “Don’t take too long,” she finally said. “This is our way.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her bangles clinking softly as she disappeared down the hallway. I remained there for a moment, my heart hammering against my ribs. Bhaiya was silent beside me, waiting. I pushed the door closed, stepping in again, I asked him to remove his pants.

Inside, I guided him to rest his head on my lap, feeling groin with my free hand. My fingers stroked his half erect penis, though a flicker of nervous energy remained. As he gathered his senses to what was happening, his hands instinctively strated to fondle and kiss my breasts. The setting sent a warm sensation coursing through me, and I exhaled slowly, allowing the feeling to settle.

His penis tightened slightly as he calmed, the sensation deepening. I rested a hand against his head, absorbing the moment. His lips moved rhythmically, the suction firm but familiar. A soft sigh escaped me as I tried to insert his penis in my vagina. Momentarily I saw his face lit up with hope. But it was shortlived, he could hold his erection. As soon as I felt it slide in, he came in with full force. I was disappointed but thought this was just the start and Bhaiya would be keen to perform again.

My thoughts wandered back to my mother-in-law’s words. Feeding Bhaiya felt like a kink that I needed, yet the idea of extending this to my Sasur Ji still felt distant. The weight of expectation lingered, pressing into me as I continued.

Bhaiya’s grip loosened as he slowed, his hold now more gentle, as if acknowledging the comfort I provided. I stroked his hair absentmindedly, lost in thought, feeling the steady rhythm between us. This was a journey I had started, and there was still more to understand, more to accept.

For now, I let myself be present, embracing what was before me, allowing the path ahead to unfold at its own pace.

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 6

One warm morning as I sat comfortably in Suhana’s courtyard. Over time, I had grown more confident in my role, no longer hesitating as I once did. When her nephew Ramesh approached me, his expression a mix of curiosity and quiet need, I smiled and pulled up my blouse. He leaned on to my lap, as if he belonged there.

I pushed two fingers in my blouse to undo the hooks, I pressed my nipple to check the flow. I had now learned to correct the positioning when needed, knowing that a proper latch was important for both comfort and flow. He nuzzled in, his hands resting against my thighs as he suckled contentedly. Warmth of his mouth felt nice, grounding.

Guddu, Aarti’s nephew, had been watching from a short distance, his wide eyes filled with curiosity. He hesitated, shifting on his feet, before coming closer. I met his gaze and gave him a reassuring nod. “Come, beta,” I said gently.

Without much thought, I opened my bra on my other side, helping him settle just as I had done with Ramesh. Their suckling rhythms were different, something I had come to notice with each kid. Some latched eagerly, while others took their time, more focused on the comfort than the nourishment itself. I no longer felt self-conscious about my body in these moments. To them, I was simply a source of warmth, of reassurance, of something they sought but did not fully understand.

At times, I would catch them pausing, their faces resting against my bare breast, their lips idly brushing against my areola as if in thought. I chuckled once when Guddu stared at me, his mouth still softly latched but his eyes filled with wonder. “Are you stuck, beta?” I teased, smoothing back his hair. Ramesh had once done the same, lying against me with his lips parted in thought, and I had laughed, calling him my little philosopher.

Suhana sat beside me, watching with an approving smile. “They just want to suck your nipples,” she said.

I nodded, stroking Ramesh’s hair absentmindedly. “They’re not just drinking; they’re cutious about my body seeking comfort, security. I see that now.”

The boys nestled both side, their breaths slowing, the weight of their bodies a soothing presence against me. It was in these quiet moments that I understood the depth of what I had embraced—not just a tradition, but a way of being, of giving, of connecting beyond words. I was no longer hesitant, no longer questioning. I was simply present, offering what was needed without reservation.

 

[RajuWalvan]

Update 7

One sunday, my husband and childrens went to market. The midday sun streamed through the kitchen window as I stood at the stove, stirring a simmering pot of dal. The aroma of spices filled the air, blending with the warmth of the afternoon. Just as I reached for the salt, I heard couple of footsteps.

Amit, Meena’s son, stood there with expectant eyes, shifting on his feet. Behind him, Ramesh and Guddu peered in, their expressions mirroring his.

“Milk...?,” Amit mumbled, rubbing his elbows.

I smiled, brushing a hand over his head. "All at once?", I knew the boys wanted special treatment. “I’m cooking right now, beta. If you want, you can drink, but don’t disturb me.”

The boys nodded eagerly. With a flick of fingers I removed my blouse, bared my chest and let them latch on as I stood by the stove, my hands moving instinctively over the cooking. Amit latched on first, holding onto my waist, his grip strong, steadying himself. His lips sealed tightly as he suckled with determination, his tongue moving in a steady rhythm. Ramesh, impatient, nudged against me, eager for his turn. I lifted him slightly, feeling his warm breath against my skin as he latched, his mouth eager, his teeth grazing me slightly. I didn’t mind—I was used to it now.

Guddu waited, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my back, his wide eyes fixed on the motion of my breasts as other two press and suck. With constant pulling and fondling I was aroused. Without thinking I landed a kiss on his lips. His weak body shivered. Gathering his senses he held my face in both hands and shoved his tongue in my mouth. We kissed for sometime before he finally took his turn, his wet lips closing softly but firmly, his fingers gripping the base of my chest to ensure a proper latch. The suction was strong, drawing more milk as he adjusted. Their hunger was evident, and as my flow increased, their pulls became more fervent.

With all three latched at different points, their mouths working in sync, I felt the tug deep in my chest. They were rough. As Amit gave his turn to Guddu. I paused, sneaking my arms in Ramesh and Guddu’s pants to stroke their penises, ensuring Amit wouldn’t notice, I landed a passionate kiss on his lips holding his lower lip in my teeths. The pressure of their eager mouths, their hands gripping me, their teeth occasionally grazing—it all felt to much now, part of a rhythm I had wanted to get accustomed to.

Just as I was enjoying my company with three teenagers, Bhaiya entered. He had come as planned, expecting his turn. But as soon as he saw me feeding Ramesh and Guddu, my hands in their pants, and Amit sucking my lips, he hesitated. His eyes flickered over the scene—their firm latches, their vigorous pulls, the way I was pleasuring them. He exhaled, realizing there was no way I would be feeding him today. With a small shake of his head, he turned and left, leaving me to tend to the hungry boys in my arms.

“You all better keep this between us,” I teased, glancing down at ramesh hand on my vagina. “If I burn the food, it’s your fault.”

They were too lost in the moment to respond, their eyes closed in contentment. I smiled to myself, feeling the weight of their trust, the simplicity of this bond. In this home, in this space, this was life, unbroken and whole.