You always felt so relaxed in Wanda’s presence.
With her hand in your hair, long delicate fingers stroking your scalp, and your head resting on her soft chest, you felt safe.
Deadlines were kicking your ass and you were more stressed than you’d ever been, your second year at university proving to be much more vigorous than your first. Wanda practically had to drag you out of your room to watch a movie with her, not taking no as an answer despite you trying to explain how behind you were on your assignments.
She’d had enough of seeing you work yourself nearly to death, staying up half the night and accidentally skipping meals, too focused on your academics. She wasn’t mad at you for it, in fact, she admired your work ethic. You were ambitious and a perfectionist, so eager to please.
Always such a good girl.
And good girls deserved rewards. So she’d demanded that you take a break and join her in her room for a movie.
Technically she wasn’t lying; there was a movie playing in the background as she played absentmindedly with your hair. But that wasn’t the real reason she’d invited you into her bed.
About twenty minutes into the movie, she decided to put her plan into motion.
Her sweet touches and warm body molded into yours as you cuddled were enough to have you instantly relaxing into her. Right where she wanted you.
Ever since she’d met you, she thought you were a precious little thing - so sweet, so smart, so willing to help her whenever she needed it. She planned to see just how far she could push that last one.
The first time she laid eyes on you, she thought you were adorable. She felt an instant attraction to you and, luckily for her, your father made his presence around the house scarce for work reasons, leaving the two of you alone quite often.
For months she played the motherly role in your life. She made dinner, asked you about school, offered to help you with your homework, and spent time with you as much as you wanted.
Really as much as she wanted, but whatever she wanted she knew she could make you want even more. She was so good at it that most of the time whatever she wanted seemed like it was your idea in the first place and Wanda loved the fact her sweet girl was so oblivious to her intentions.
She touched you as much as possible, whether it was her hands on your waist as she moved past you, her fingertips tracing patterns into your exposed thigh during dinner, or having you curl up into her side when you watched movies. She didn’t miss the way you would always melt into her touch, knowing she had you wrapped around her finger as much as you did her.
As the movie played in the background, she tightened her grip in your hair, prompting you to lift your head the slightest bit. Before you could turn to ask if she needed to readjust, she’d already pulled down the top of her skimpy nightgown, exposing her full breasts and already hardened nipples.
When you looked at her, your eyes fell to her bare chest for a moment before you squeezed them shut and tried to cover them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look,” you apologized frantically. “I- I didn’t know.”
“Shh, it’s okay, moya lyubov,” Wanda cooed, removing your hand from where it covered your eyes and placing her hands on your cheeks. “You want to look, don’t you?”
Her words shocked you, making you open your eyes and meet her tender gaze. “I- I’m confused,” you mumbled, trying to read her expression for even a hint at what was happening. All you saw was adoration and a twinkle in her eyes, so alluring that you had to look away.
When you did, you were staring directly at her breasts. You knew it was wrong, but you felt your mouth begin to water at the sight of them and heat building somewhere much lower. Subconsciously, you licked your lips and Wanda smirked when she noticed. This was too easy.
“I actually think you want to do more than just look, right, detka?” she asked, setting the trap, knowing you would take the bait.
“What do you mean?” you swallowed, unsure of where to look as your eyes flitted between her face and her chest.
“I think you know what I mean, sweetheart. Go ahead, you can touch,” she said sweetly, framing her words just right to make it seem like you’d just asked her yourself if you could touch her.
When you nervously brought a hand up to cup the weight of her breast, she smiled reassuringly. You didn’t notice the smugness behind her smile as you refocused your attention below her neck.
She bit her lip to stifle a moan when your thumb brushed against her straining nipple. She arched her back the slightest bit, pushing her chest closer to your face, your breath hitching in your throat at the action.
“Can I- can I use my mouth?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.
Wanda had never been more pleased with herself than in that moment. She hadn’t quite expected you to be so bold and ask for such a thing so quickly. She was both proud of herself and proud of you, always so compliant, always so good for her.
“Yes, angel, you can use your mouth.”
When your lips wrapped around her nipple, she bit back a whine at the sensation of your warm mouth around her sensitive bud. You latched on, suckling contentedly and laving your tongue around the stiff peak.
You were surprised when you felt warm, sweet liquid drip into your mouth. You had no idea Wanda could do this, but you couldn’t complain. The first taste of her milk had you hooked immediately, moaning as more spilled onto your waiting tongue.
“You’re doing so good drinking mommy’s milk baby,” Wanda said breathily.
Her words sent a shock straight to your core and you moaned against her flushed skin.
“Oh, someone likes that, hm?”
You were too far gone to respond, your eyelids growing heavy as her breast emptied. You switched to the other one, sucking softer and slower this time, wanting to make it last.
Her fingers threaded through your hair, moving in a steady rhythm matching that of your tongue along the underside of her nipple.
You fell asleep that way, with your mouth on her breast, her hand in your hair, and a smile on your face. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in months.
What happened that night became a routine shortly after. Whenever you were buried deep in research papers and exam flashcards, eyes burning from countless hours of studying, Wanda would be your saving grace. Your stepmom would poke her head into your room, encouraging you to take a break, and you’d wind up laying against her chest with one of her pretty nipples in your mouth and her sweet milk trickling down your throat.
Sometimes she enjoyed messing with you. In her mind, toys were meant to be played with.
One night, she’d asked you if you wanted to watch something with her and when you agreed, she put on your favorite show. It always gave you butterflies when she remembered what you liked to watch, but how could she not? You were the apple of her eye whether you knew it or not.
You expected her to solicit you into sucking her dry, like always, but she didn’t, leaving you feeling lost and confused. You hadn’t realized how much you began to rely on that as a way to de-stress until she wasn’t willingly offering it to you.
She wanted you to ask her for it yourself, to show her that you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to ask for something like that - it still felt wrong to you despite her constant reassurances that it was normal for mommies to take care of their precious angels that way.
Instead of voicing what you wanted, you nuzzled your face against her breasts, hoping she would understand.
“Aw, do you want something sweetheart?” she asked, feigning sympathy so you wouldn’t be able to tell how much she was getting off on your desperation.
“Please,” you mumbled.
“Please what? You have to tell me what you want or I won’t know how to help,” she replied tenderly.
“Can I…” you paused, not knowing how to phrase it. “Taste you? I mean like… are they full?” you asked, glancing down at her chest before meeting her eyes again, her curious look intimidating you by the second until you were unraveling. “I’m sorry, actually, I don’t know why I’m asking you that, I-”
She cut you off with a firm hand grabbing your jaw, silencing you. Her thumb came up to brush against your bottom lip, the sight of you so needy for her making her shiver.
“Of course you can, detka. All you had to do was ask.” And with that she was removing her top and pulling you close, smirking to herself as you latched on and fell asleep in her hold, all of your worries forgotten for the night.
One night, she invited you to go swimming with her, neglecting to mention that she wasn’t wearing a bathing suit under her robe and letting you find that out for yourself when she stood bare before you on the patio. She swayed her hips purposefully as she walked over to the pool, making sure to bend over and give you a delicious view as she stepped into the water.
Unable to get the vivid image of her perfect backside out of your mind, you shook your head and slowly undressed. You, unlike her, had worn a bathing suit and you decided to keep it on as your nerves followed you to the pool.
Sitting on the steps, she welcomed you in, not hesitating to pull you close to her body. With your head leaning against her arm, so close to where you longed to bury your face, you looked up at her and she simply nodded.
Your hot mouth felt amazing against her nipple, cold from the water and the nighttime air. She hummed as you ran your tongue over the bud, trying to stimulate it enough to get your reward. When nothing came out, you sucked harder, your teeth grazing her sensitive flesh and causing her to whimper.
You quickly pulled away. “Sorry,” you blurted out, your eyes wide.
“It’s okay, sweet girl. It felt good,” Wanda cooed, bringing one hand to the back of your head and the other to your hand under the water. She gently pulled your head back to her chest while moving your hand towards her aching center. “Sometimes when you drink mommy’s milk, it makes her feel tingly down here,” she explained, pressing your fingers against her pussy.
You felt the heat radiating from her core, warm and wet with something that wasn’t just the water from the pool. She guided your fingers to slide through her slick folds and you moaned against her breast at the feel of her.
That seemed to sober you up and you pulled back for a moment to speak. “This isn’t right, we’re not supposed to-”
“Quiet, detka,” she snapped coldly. “I told you I’ll always take care of you and do what’s best for you, didn’t I?” You nodded and she softened at that. “That’s right. Don’t you want to make your mommy feel good? It hurts down there.”
You nodded again, murmuring out a “yes mommy” and kissing around her breasts apologetically.
“Good girl,” she praised, making you clench your thighs together.
That night, you filled her up with your fingers while she filled you up with her milk. She came hard against the wall of the pool and you felt pride welling up within you at the beautiful sight of her in ecstasy. When you grew sleepy, she helped you inside, taking you to her room where you fell asleep on her chest.
She looked down at you fondly, knowing without a doubt that she loved you more dearly than she’d ever loved anything in her life. The love she had for your father didn’t even come close to the way she felt about you. Her heart felt whole with the knowledge that you loved her just as much, all on your own.
She may have had to coax it out of you, but flowers don’t grow where seeds aren’t planted. And in her garden, you were her favorite flower.