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"The baby formula is in the cupboards. There are fruits in the fridge. He likes mangoes, so if he throws a tantrum, just give him a mango smoothie. Oh, and his toys are—"
“Everywhere,” Mu Qing muttered with distaste, eyes scanning the chaos of Feng Xin’s house. Toys littered every inch of the room, from the carpet to the shelves, even stacked suspiciously near the ceiling.
Clothes were draped over chairs, tangled on the couch, and spilling from laundry baskets and coffee counters. It looked like a tornado had spun through the place and decided to settle in.
“Ten years later, and you’re still a mess,” Mu Qing added.
Feng Xin didn’t even flinch at the eyeroll or the sharp edge in Mu Qing’s voice. “I don’t have time for this,” she said flatly, gently laying Cuo Cuo into his crib. The little devil had passed out just as quickly as he’d drained the life out of her.
“I’m so late,” she muttered, hastily patting her chest dry and adjusting her bra.
Mu Qing turned away on instinct, gaze flicking toward the window, still not used to seeing Feng Xin like this. A mom. A single mom who worked two jobs. A ridiculously attractive mom that Mu Qing had been crushing on since high school. A mom she’d like to f—
“Fuck! Can’t you change in your room or something?!” She let out as if offended that Feng Xin shamelessly just flashed her with her voluptuous tits that had always left Mu Qing dazed and fantasizing of how it felt under her palms. How sometimes she’d wake up in the middle of the night, wet from having a dream of groping and sucking those nipples that always perked under her tight shirt because Feng Xin loathes wearing a bra. She complains that it makes it hard to breathe.
“You act as if you’ve never seen me naked before.”
“Still!”
Even when Mu Qing doesn’t normally catch Feng Xin changing, she always had the images of her boobs engraved in her heretical mind. Those two mounts often resided in her thoughts that she would have written a book about them. Shakespeare would’ve feared her. Mu Qing might be a small town poet, but nothing ever goes wrong to people who are passionate about things.
Feng Xin’s boobs are big and bold, majestic and proud, a sight to behold. Oh god, bless this poor sinner’s soul. Mu Qing just wishes her palms could be in Feng Xin’s next bra haul—
What the hell am I thinking about! Cut it out, Mu Qing! Stop thinking about her tits! She berated herself.
But who was she kidding? The fantasies have become worse now that Feng Xin became a mom. They’ve gotten bigger and tastier for sure.
I wonder what it tastes like— no! Mu Qing shook her head and let out a sharp exhale, hoping the sinful thoughts clouding her mind went with it.
“When are you coming back again?”
“I’ll be home really late tonight,” Feng Xin said as she grabbed her purse and keys, already halfway to the door. “Like, don’t wait for me. You can sleep in the guest room.”
Mu Qing raised one eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m planning to?”
Feng Xin ignored the sarcasm. “Just keep an eye on him. He usually wakes up around three in the afternoon. Give him the rice cereal in the orange container, not the one in the blue box. He hates that one for some reason but it’s supposed to be the most nutritious for him. Warm his milk just a little, and don’t forget to test the temperature on your wrist. He hates hot stuff.”
“I know! I know! I’m not a barbarian,” Mu Qing muttered, crossing her arms and taking every bit of offense.
Feng Xin kept going. “He loves that stupid octopus toy, so don’t lose it. It should always be in arm’s reach. And he’ll fall asleep if you hum that one stupid children’s song he likes. Coconutmelon or something.”
“It’s Cocomelon, you uncultured swine!”
“Whatever. Just please take care of my son.”
“Duh!” Mu Qing gestured for her to go, literally shooing her away. “I got it, mom of the year. I’ll do such a good job, Cuo Cuo won’t even want you back.”
Feng Xin smirked as she slipped on her heels. “If that’s true, I’ll pay you in gold.”
“Deal. Now go. You’re already fifteen minutes late and still talking.”
“Oh! Fuck! Bye!” Feng Xin waved as she left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Left alone with the now peacefully sleeping Cuo Cuo, Mu Qing let out a long breath. She glanced around at the disaster that was Feng Xin’s living room.
“I see I have my work cut out for me.”
The rest of the morning passed in quiet productivity.
Mu Qing vacuumed, folded laundry, sorted out piles of forgotten bills, scattered baby clothes, and even Feng Xin’s used clothes from the days before.
She threw all of it in the washing machine and while she waited, she cleaned the counters and the sink. She wiped down the glass windows and the glass cabinets before sweeping the floor and mopping it squeaky clean.
Then, Mu Qing prepared Cuo Cuo’s lunch, measuring everything just as Feng Xin wrote down (or what the Internet suggested because Feng Xin had the worst handwriting ever!) and leaving it aside to cool down while she put the washed clothes in the dryer.
By the time Cuo Cuo stirred awake at noon, the apartment looked almost… civilized .
When Cuo Cuo opened his big, curious eyes and saw Mu Qing, he blinked sleepily, then smiled and giggled, like he’d seen one of his most important persons in life.
Mu Qing could swear her chest tighten in ways she wasn’t prepared to admit. Cuo Cuo looked adorable.
“Aww, you look just like your parents. You have your daddy’s eyes. Oh, yes, you do. Little Jian Lan, that’s who you are,” Mu Qing said, acting all childish and poking Cuo Cuo’s nose. “But you have your mommy’s nose.”
Cuo Cuo cackled, his eyes sparkling bright. Mu Qing could even see herself in those eyes. Suddenly, Cuo Cuo raised his arms, trying to grab onto Mu Qing.
“You want to play?” She picked him up with a mock sigh. Cuo Cuo only gaped at her with pure delight. “You better not drool on me.”
Cuo Cuo only giggled again. He flapped his small hands on Mu Qing’s shoulders, then it settled on her braid, tugging on her hair and biting it with his barely even there teeth.
“You little devil,” she teased, copying Cuo Cuo and acting like she’s biting him. “You wanna play a game?”
Cuo Cuo smiled.
They played for a while, stacking word blocks into castle towers, knocking them down with paper balls they considered to be fiery boulders in their army of octopi, and giggling endlessly over the victory of their General Ten Tackles.
“Oh God, this is so stupid. But you’re having fun so whatever,” Mu Qing said, trying to catch her breath.
She looked at the analog clock on the wall then to Cuo Cuo.
Then came lunch. She fetched Cuo Cuo’s lunch and set it down on his high chair.
“Alright, I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Lunch passed by quickly with Cuo Cuo being surprisingly obedient. From rare moments when she’d be invited at Feng Xin’s place for birthday parties and even rarer hang outs with their mutual friend, Xie Lian, Mu Qing knew that Cuo Cuo was a menace when eating.
He’d never let Feng Xin a moment’s peace by always slapping his spoon or sending his bowl of rice puree to the carpet because he prefered mom’s milk more than anything, which is good, really. Breast milk is best for babies up to two years old, though with complimentary foods, of course.
But Cuo Cuo was really docile. Feng Xin must’ve tamed him already.
After lunch, Mu Qing changed Cuo Cuo’s diapers and wiped him clean and not a moment later, Cuo Cuo dozed off again, tiny fingers curled around Mu Qing’s shirt. She tucked him back into his crib and returned to quietly organizing Feng Xin’s stuff, wiping down more surfaces, and setting aside items and even snacks she guessed were long overdue for tossing. Feng Xin would be so pissed off, but whatever!
By dusk, Mu Qing had changed into fresh clothes, made herself a cup of tea, and finally curled onto the couch with a blanket and watched her favorite show.
Just as the opening credits rolled, a piercing wail shattered the peace.
Mu Qing froze.Then, she groaned and pushed herself up.
She rushed over to the crib. “What now?” she murmured, lifting him up.
He wasn’t wet. His diaper is clean. He didn’t seem hungry too as he spat the bottle of baby formula out immediately.
“Do you want this?”
Mu Qing put his favorite toy next to him but Cuo Cuo only threw it off the crib. She picked it up and put it next to him again, but he only kicked it off. He didn’t want to play. He just kept crying, his face scrunched red and tiny fists pounding in the air.
Thinking he needed to be held, Mu Qing picked him up and bounced him gently in her arms, then tried pacing around the room.
It did not work.
“Okay, okay! Hey, Cuo Cuo. It's me, Auntie Mu Qing. Remember me? Your pretty babysitter who cleaned your whole house and fed you and played octopus with you all day? Me?”
Cuo Cuo wailed louder in response.
Mu Qing sighed, then tried the emergency backup plan. “You want a mango smoothie? No?”
Cuo Cuo kicked her.
“What do you want?” Mu Qing rocked him, patted him, even tried humming the Cocomelon song Feng Xin had mentioned, but it only made Cuo Cuo sob harder. “What the hell do I do with you now?”
Cuo Cuo only clung tighter on her, sobbing the whole time. His head kept nuzzling down toward Mu Qing’s chest and pressing his face there, probably for comfort, but insistently, his movements became desperate like he was searching for something.
Then, it hit him.
Cuo Cuo’s mouth latched on her clothed nipple.
Mu Qing froze. “You want to… oh, no, no, no! Cuo Cuo, I’m not your mother.” Her voice was quiet, conflicted. But Cuo Cuo whimpered again, sounding in so much pain. His little sound tugged hard at something deep in her chest literally and figuratively.
Cuo Cuo needed to be relieved.
Feng Xin wasn’t home yet and won’t be home until probably 10 PM. Cuo Cuo wouldn’t cry for four hours, right? He would pass out. Mu Qing can’t wait for and neither could Cuo Cuo.
With a heavy sigh and a glance at the windows, the curtains conveniently set down, Mu Qing shifted her grip and hesitantly pushed up her shirt over her shoulders.
She held Cuo Cuo to her breast, unsure of what she was even doing because this was simply ridiculous, she thought. There's no milk.
“Here goes nothing.”
Then, Cuo Cuo latched.
Mu Qing stiffened, her whole body tensed and eyes widening at the foreign sensation. It was weird. Deeply uncomfortable. It felt wet and awkward. Too awkward. And surprisingly painful. She now understood why Feng Xin dreaded nursing Cuo Cuo.
Mu Qing only sat still, bearing the strange, stinging discomfort, trying not to think too hard about the ache or just how weird the whole situation was and what it was doing to her.
Her chest throbbed faintly where Cuo Cuo suckled, not enough to cry out in pain, but enough to want it to end.
It felt like something pinched her nipple, like a constant suction pulling too hard on her sensitive skin that’s so not meant for this.
Sure, she’d touch herself and use a suction toy, but never like this. It hurt. She wondered how mothers could ever get used to this. But then, gradually, Cuo Cuo’s cries faded as his breathing calmed. His fists also relaxed and his tiny body sinking into Mu Qing’s arms with a quiet sigh.
Oh.
“So that’s why.”
Cuo Cuo looked so much at peace and the sight itself spread comfort around her tensed body. He looked adorable in her arms, like he was hers and she was his most trusted person.
Suddenly, Mu Qing found herself humming a long-forgotten song from her childhood. It was a song her mother sang for her, the tune always calming her down and sending her to sleep.
It worked on Cuo Cuo too, the baby drifting to sleep in Mu Qing’s arms, still latched, gently suckling, but finally calm. The sting faded into nothing, gratification seeping in every nerve of her being, like a full-pledged mother.
Mu Qing leaned back slowly, holding him close for a few moments, so that she, too, found her own solitude in this gentle environment she created for both of them.
That was until the door opened and from it emerged a wide-eyed Feng Xin who dropped her bag and paper bag of what seemed to be take out food at the sight of Mu Qing cradling Cuo Cuo and letting him suck her.
“I…” Mu Qing tried to explain.
“I’m sorry!” Feng Xin turned around, shutting her eyes. “I didn’t mean to look!”
Mu Qing immediately stood up and walked towards Feng Xin, handing her Cuo Cuo who was thankfully still asleep. Then, she ran downstairs while fixing herself, too embarrassed to even face Feng Xin.
“Mu Qing, wait!”
Feng Xin chased after her, grabbing Mu Qing’s wrist.
“S-Stay for dinner. I bought us food.”
They didn’t look at each other, but they knew that both their faces were red as Feng Xin’s lipstick.
“I… It was the only way to calm him down,” Mu Qing whispered shyly.
“I know. There’s no problem. So please… don’t leave yet. Let me repay you with dinner.”
Mu Qing could only nod as she let herself be dragged to the dining room by the woman of the house.
They both sat there in silence. It was very awkward.
Mu Qing stared at her lavender tea, untouched and cooling. She should drink it. Of course, Feng Xin prepared it for her, even heating up the take out she’d ordered.
Her arms rested on the table, her posture unusually slouched, like the weight of the day had finally pinned her in place.
“H-How are you?” Feng Xin opened a topic for conversation.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
Then, there was silence yet again, save for the sound of the microwave counting down to 1.
“I’m sorry,” Feng Xin blurted, after a moment, her tone softening, “I should’ve warned you.”
“About what?”
“That Cuo Cuo likes to suckle to sleep. It’s his… comfort. He doesn’t need milk every time, he just… likes the intimacy.”
Mu Qing stared at her. “You definitely should’ve told me that.”
“I forgot. I’m sorry.”
Once more, silence enveloped the atmosphere, cooling them and trapping them in icy awkwardness. Someone should say something. One of them should—
Ding!
The microwave rang, alerting them that the food was ready, but Feng Xin didn’t take it out. She just… stared at the counter, finding the right words to say to Mu Qing.
“It hurts,” Mu Qing suddenly muttered, her voice low and barely audible.
Feng Xin looked from the counter tiles, curious eyes scanning what Mu Qing meant by that.
“What?”
“My chest,” Mu Qing added. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Feng Xin blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh.”
Mu Qing raised a hand, gesturing vaguely toward her own chest. “I didn’t think he’d actually… latch . Like, I thought he’d only try, just him being curious, you know? But, oh my god, it was like he craved it so bad.”
Feng Xin’s mouth twitched into a half-smile. “He’s determined. Wonder where he gets that from.”
Mu Qing glared at her.
“Right, right,” Feng Xin said quickly, hiding her smile behind a sip of tea. “Sorry.”
There was a pause before Mu Qing spoke again.
“It just felt so weird,” Mu Qing went on. She put her palms over her face, visibly embarrassed “Is it always this weird? I… I feel ashamed. Maybe because nothing came out and that’s why it felt so weird.”
Feng Xin set her mug down, rested her chin on her hand, and listened.
“I don’t think I’d get used to it,” Mu Qing admitted. “If I ever became a mom. I mean, afterwards, it felt fulfilling, but the whole thing was mostly just… crazy. Or I don’t know. Maybe it would be less uncomfortable when I become a mom?” She heaved a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore.”
Feng Xin looked at her for a long moment. “Mu Qing,” she called before standing up and putting the mug in the sink. “It’s alright if you felt something…”
Mu Qing brought her hands down, staring at Feng Xin who held no judgement which was surprising because for the longest time they knew each other, Feng Xin always had a way with teasing and mocking Mu Qing.
“It’s your first time. And it happened so suddenly. Actually, it’s a reflex. Most women have some… contractions in their, uhm, sensitive parts, especially in the first few weeks because of the hormones. There’s no shame in it. It’s scientific.” Feng Xin smiled at her, reassuring. “You did what you could to help him out even at the expense of your boundaries. And I’m thankful for that. I know you would never hurt him. That's why I trust you the most with taking care of my son.”
Mu Qing averted her gaze. She couldn’t help the flush on her face. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But I do know what you’re thinking anyway.” Feng XIn let out a light chuckle, probably in an attempt to lighten up the mood seeing that Mu Qing still looked conflicted of her bodily reaction. “And it’s fine. Normally, a lot of women go through that. Even I did at first because it was new to me. But it goes away.”
Mu Qing sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it someday. Nursing.” Then, she shook her head. “I mean, if I ever get pregnant and have babies.”
“You don’t really get used to it,” Feng Xin said. “But it does stop hurting.”
Mu Qing raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, just that my boobs would hurt. And I don’t mean only the nipples. I mean the whole thing itself.” Feng Xin leaned against the counter. “At the start, it was awful. Sore, cracked skin, pressure all the time. Sometimes, it would even bleed because Cuo Cuo bites down hard. But now, when Cuo Cuo feeds, it actually helps.”
“Helps? What helps?” Mu Qing looked so confused.
Feng Xin nodded. “If I go too long without feeding, the milk builds up. It swells and it fucking hurts like hell sometimes. But when he feeds, it’s like a valve opens and all the pressure just…” She gestured like a bomb setting off. “It goes. Then, there’s relief. Like my body could exhale.”
Mu Qing felt like malfunctioning. She can’t believe they were on this topic, talking about boobs and milk and motherhood so casually when a conversation like this would’ve had them both blushing at sixteen.
The whole time, she only stared at Feng Xin’s chest, and it wasn’t even intentional. She was zoning out, still perplexed by the turn of events of her supposed normal babysitting.
It’s when Feng Xin spoke that she finally raised her gaze to meet Feng Xin’s golden ones.
“Do you want a taste?”
What? Did I hear her right?
Mu Qing felt the need to pick on her ears because she believed wax must’ve built up in the canal, prohibiting all appropriate comprehension.
“Huh?” She asked, her voice so tiny.
“I asked if you want to taste it,” Feng Xin repeated, this time louder and with more conviction, as if she wasn’t really asking a question because she already knew the answer.
It was clear as day, even from the morning's interaction.
Mu Qing wanted her. So Feng Xin unbuttoned her shirt, taking it off so sensually with Mu Qing’s eyes carefully scrutinizing every movement.
She let her white top fall on the floor, leaving only her black lace bra. Mu Qing watched her take it off from behind, silvery irises depleting as her pupils dilated with heady, unabashed desire for the gorgeous woman before her.
Once Feng Xin flicked the lock and took it off, it fell on the floor just as quickly as Mu Qing let out a whimper at the sight of glossy brown nipples, already perked in anticipation and glistening in the warm kitchen light.
“You can taste them.”
As the words left Feng Xin’s mouth, a drop of milk fell from her nipple, going down to her defined abs and ultimately, wetting her trousers.
Mu Qing snatched a harsh intake of air, trying to calm her racing heart that burned with desire.
She brought her gaze back to Feng Xin's eyes, finding just the same amount of lust whirling in those hazel orbs.
“Feng Xin.”
“Mu Qing.”
Feng Xin walked closer to her until she stood just in front of her while she remained seated on the chair, her face leveled to Feng Xin's tits.
“You're blushing,” Feng Xin giggled.
“I-I'm not,” Mu Qing, ever in denial, averted her gaze downward, to her hands clenching in an attempt to control herself.
“Oh, Qing-er,” Feng Xin hooked her finger on Mu Qing's chin, grabbing her attention back to her, particularly her breasts.
Mu Qing found herself mere inches before Feng Xin's leaking nipples. She glanced at Feng Xin, like asking for permission as she’s ready to consume her whole. And it's this moment when her lips finally loosened and let go of the words sitting on the tip of her tongue since this morning.
“Let me have a taste of you.”
A smile tugged on the corner of Feng Xin's lips. She brought a hand up to her breast and squeezed, sighing with relief as milk sprayed into Mu Qing's parted lips.
Mu Qing moaned at the warm liquid in her mouth. It tasted heavenly , like the nectar of the gods, and so much better.
It was so good that the barely even there thread of her self-control snapped. She kicked off her seat and took one of Feng Xin's breasts into her scorching mouth, latching onto the pert bud and drawing more of that honeysuckle.
Feng Xin gasped at the sensation, her back arching into Mu Qing's hungry mouth as she sucked the life out of her boob while holding her hand over her other tit, squeezing it and letting more milk freely dribble on their hands down to the sensual curve of her waist.
“Ah… fuck, yes! Just like that, babygirl.”
Mu Qing groaned at just how lustrous, moaned at the endearment and the alluring sound that came out of Feng Xin’s mouth.
She pulled away for a bit, enough to breath in a mouthful of air and to gaze at Feng Xin with a smile.
“Do you like that, mommy?”
Feng Xin’s eyes couldn’t be wider. Something inside her stirred as she looked down at Mu Qing with wet lips, her milk flowing from the side of Mu Qing’s lips down to her neck and black shit, and the way she called her mommy.
She hated that she liked it, but not as much as she enjoyed how Mu Qing teased her nipple with her hot tongue, swirling around the brown nub before her teeth playfully nibbled on it, all the while just staring at Feng Xin’s breathless reaction.
“Does this feel good for you?” Mu Qing mouthed the question against Feng Xin’s nipple, painfully hard and already too stimulated. “Hmm? Mommy?”
Feng Xin groaned. “Yes, baby. You’re being so good for mommy, taking so much from me.”
She held Mu Qing’s face, caressing her smooth skin and tugging her bangs behind her ears just so she could watch more of Mu Qing’s pretty face as she sucked on her tits.
“Were you that fucking hungry? Hm?”
Mu Qing answered by bobbing her head on Feng Xin’s boobs, greedily drinking all she could offer and kneading her other boob that never failed to squirt more milk, showering white in her face and neck.
Normally, Mu Qing would hate having her shirt getting soiled when she’d already taken a bath but right now, she just wanted to be rained on by everything Feng Xin. She was intoxicating, her milk making her drunk with arousal.
“You’re so sweet,” Mu Qing cried out, pulling back just to clean off the excess milk on the valley of Feng Xin’s boobs and lapping every sweet, sticky smear of her milk. “Mommy is so sweet.”
When it’s clean enough, she used both her hands to grope Feng Xin’s boobs, squeezing them until they sprayed milk on her face, her mouth already opened wide to taste the saccarinish fluid.
“Fuck, you’re so greedy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re addicted.”
“I’m hungry,” Mu Qing quietly replied before she latched onto Feng Xin’s boob, drinking more of her.
Feng Xin could only smile down at her, amused about Mu Qing’s eagerness, but still shy.
“Baby, aren’t you going to eat dinner? I bought you your favorite dish from college.” She meant the stir-fried tofu with veggies that Mu Qing always craved for after classes.
Mu Qing only shook her head, her hunger already satiated by Feng Xin's tits and everything unholy about her. Ironic how she initially refused dinner, wanting to get away from this house the very moment Feng Xin caught her nursing her son as if she was a wife at home, waiting for her beloved to return from work.
To Mu Qing, it was embarrassing. To Feng Xin, however, it was every sane, wet dream she's been having for a year.
Supposedly, Feng Xin planned to sleep once she got home from work but seeing Mu Qing looking all so motherly with her son, Feng Xin felt a tidal wave in her panties and she swore she won't let this day pass without getting a taste of Mu Qing.
“You’re hard,” Feng Xin pointed out. Both of them looked under, eyeing Mu Qing's soaked t-shirt.
Mu Qing didn't even notice just how wet she was. She didn't know what possessed her as she found herself stripping off her t-shirt with Feng Xin's scrutinizing gaze that softened at the sight of rosy pink nipples begging for her attention.
Feng Xin reached for her chest, snaking calloused palms against Mu Qing's soft skin and making her tremble just from her touch. Then, Feng Xin thumbed her nipple, circling it around until Mu Qing let out a shaky whine.
“Just look at yourself. So fucking hard and perky,” Feng Xin smirked as she pinched the bud, earning a muffled moan from Mu Qing. “You were hard this morning too. Such a pervert, watching mommy change into her work clothes. If I wasn't in a hurry, I would've played with you like this,” she said while squeezing her nipples as if something would come out of there.
Mu Qing let out a groan of pleasure, increasing in volume the more Feng Xin tugged on her nipples, pulling them until they were red.
She could feel slick dampening her panties, making her even more wet at the feeling of her chest finally stimulated, this time not by a hungry baby but from the mom who she'd been wanting to fuck for nearly a decade already.
“Ah… mommy, please,” Mu Qing found herself begging. For what? She didn’t really know.
“What do you want, Qing-er?”
Feng Xin didn’t get a response. Only Mu Qing’s sparkly eyes talked to her. And they spoke of a thirst that didn't seem to be quenched by her own milk.
“Well, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me, babygirl," Feng Xin teased her tits, ghosting her nipples with feather-light touches that only made Mu Qing even more tensed.
Feng Xin watched as Mu Qing crossed her legs at the mention of the pet name, her thighs clenching and rubbing against the fabric of her shorts.
“Oh, I see,” Feng Xin stepped closer, her knee purposefully pushing past Mu Qing’s legs until they parted. “Do you want me to touch you here too?” She asked, rubbing her knee on Mu Qing's soaked cunt.
Mu Qing didn’t say anything, not feeling bold enough to beg but just enough confidence to roll her hips against Feng Xin's thigh and moan at the delicious stimulation.
“You like that, huh?”
“Don't stop,” Mu Qing nodded, her head hanging behind her as Feng Xin rubbed her knee against her crotch. She could even feel Mu Qing's juices seeping through the fabric of her trousers.
“So fucking wet for me.”
“Yes. For you.” Mu Qing humped against Feng Xin's legs and gradually increased her pace, her moans echoing in the confines of Feng Xin's house. She barely even registered the possibility of the neighbors hearing or, worse, finding both of them in this lewd position at the dining table.
In Mu Qing's mind, her only priority was pleasure. And it felt so good to be doing this with Feng Xin after so long pining over each other.
“A-Xin,” she cried out at a particularly exhilarating rock of Feng Xin's knee, sending electric shock from her sensitive clit to the rest of her scorching body. "M-More."
“Oh, you're so adorable.” Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing by the nape and pulled her face up until they were mere inches apart. “Qing-er, my good girl,” she added, her lips touching Mu Qing's.
He could make out the sweet scent and taste of her milk on Mu Qing's lips, but not enough to revel in the luscious essence of the girl Feng Xin had been crushing on since childhood.
“Feng Xin, please…” Mu Qing pleaded, leaning close to Feng Xin to the point of breathing in each other's air. “Kiss me.”
And then, Feng Xin's mouth crashed into hers.
Finally.
Mu Qing let out a sigh of relief, wrapping her arms around Feng Xin and pulling her close.
Their tongues danced with each other, languid at first, a bit skeptical, but the more they rolled and tasted each other, the more it became intense. Thirsty for more .
Feng Xin explored Mu Qing's mouth like a nomad in a foreign land, studying every crevice inside the hot cavern of her mouth, even going as far as plunging her tongue deep into Mu Qing's throat and nearly choking her. But Mu Qing just let her while she rolled her hips against Feng Xin's leg, humping like a bitch in heat.
“Have you always wanted this?” Feng Xin asked between kisses, her lips mouthing the words until they reached Mu Qing's neck.
“So long already,” Mu Qing responded.
“Fuck, we wasted so much time.”
Feng Xin started peppering Mu Qing's bare neck with open-mouthed kisses, turning the milky white skin into a painting filled with pink, blue, red, and purple hues.
Mu Qing just let her just as Feng Xin let Mu Qing's deft fingers fondle with her swollen tits, squeezing it again and letting her milk smear their bodies.
“Hm, what are you doing?” Feng Xin asked breathlessly.
Mu Qing didn't respond, only coating both of their chests with milk until she pulled Feng Xin closer, their tits rubbing against each other, their hard and very much sensitive, glistening nipples grazing one another in a delicious way that had both of them cussing.
“Fuck, baby, it feels good!”
Mu Qing was just as breathless, nearing her release. She hastened, grinding against Feng Xin's knee, practically riding it while clinging to Feng Xin's shoulders.
"A-Ah... A-Xin," she whined.
"You close, baby?"
Mu Qing nodded. She couldn't bring herself to speak anymore. It was pointless when nothing coherent would come out of her mouth, only desperate please for more and chants of encouragement because fuck, it just felt so good.
That was until Feng Xin suddenly pulled away from her.
"W-What are you—" Mu Qing grunted.
In the blink of an eye, Mu Qing found herself sprawled over the dining table, knocking over the now cold tea, the cup tumbling down the floor and breaking into shards.
"Feng Xin?!"
"Shush, you want to come, right?" Feng Xin stood between her legs, spreading them apart and leaning down on Mu Qing. "Mommy will make you cum."
"Yeah? How?"
Feng Xin was never good with words, but her actions always spoke volumes.
With a sneaky hand that Mu Qing didn't notice slipping in her shorts and panties, Feng Xin rubbed her clit fast and rough.
Mu Qing let out the loudest moan she could ever make. She immediately clamped her mouth shut with her hands, but Feng Xin was even quicker to grab it and pin it over her.
"Don't you dare," she said darkly, her fingers protruding the slick, velvety walls of your pussy. And she hooked it in a foreign way that had Mu Qing jolting.
"Feng Xin!"
"Feels good, right? You want more, right?"
Mu Qing nodded at Feng Xin, whose bright eyes glowed fiercely under the silhouette of the kitchen light. She stared her down. So menacing. So fucking hot.
"Now, be a good girl and let mommy hear your moans."
Mu Qing did as she was told, letting out the nastiest of sounds that have never escaped out of her system in nights when she'd fantasized over Feng Xin, except this time Feng Xin actually dragged those moans out of her in a way that felt so natural, like only she could make her feel that way.
As if it couldn't get any better, Mu Qing gasped when a warm mouth enveloped around her tit, sucking her with dark intent. She glanced down. Feng Xin was already staring.
Fuck.
This image of Feng Xin—her lips enveloping Mu Qing's rosy buds, her swollen, lactating tits on her stomach and hand moving in and out of her shorts as she fucked her with her fingers—would be masturbation material for a long time. Even God would frown at her nightly routines because it would happen every single night after today.
Mu Qing's head fell back on the table with a thud. It would've hurt had it not been for the pleasure coursing in her veins.
"Oh my god! Oh my god! God, fuck! I'm gonna come! I'm really gonna..." Mu Qing chanted. Her eyelids had fallen shut, pushing tears to the side, too overwhelmed by everything. She could feel that familiar sensation in her gut, begging to be released. But it was different from the times she'd done it herself. Tonight was more intense, her body practically vibrating underneath Feng Xin.
It's when Feng Xin curled her fingers in Mu Qing's pussy that she came with a silent cry.
And yet, despite it all, Feng Xin didn't stop thrusting her fingers in and out of her, not even moving away from her chest. Instead, Feng Xin moved to another boob, sucking it white while she started grinding her chest against Mu Qing's abdomen.
"W-Wait, s-stop..." Mu Qing tried to say, but couldn't really, or maybe she did. She couldn't hear herself anymore, her ears ringing at such an intense orgasm. But it seemed there was more to that than came from when she opened her eyes and caught Feng Xin smirking.
We're not done. Mu Qing knew that's what Feng Xin was thinking.
"But..."
Feng Xin shook her head and nibbled her nipple, earning a choked moan from Mu Qing.
"A-Xin... please," she tried pleading with him.
Feng Xin moved away, not far, just slightly. Just enough to tease Mu Qing, "Then come if you want."
As those words left Feng Xin's mouth, she latched back onto Mu Qing's nipple while her fingers retreated from Mu Qing's hole and settled on her aching clit, rubbing her fast and rough until Mu Qing couldn't take it anymore.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck... "
Mu Qing screamed, her hips jerking as she squirted all over Feng Xin's hand, wetting her shorts and the rest of the table. Only then did Feng Xin finally let her go.
"Good girl," she said, retrieving her fingers from Mu Qing's cunt and placing it over her lips. "You smell good," she added before she licked the juices off her slicked fingers, sucking on her digits while staring intensely at Mu Qing.
Mu Qing whined. She could already feel herself getting heated up. Feng Xin was just too much.
"Come here, and let me show you just how tasty you are."
Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing's throat and pulled her up. Then, their lips met in a crashing kiss of tongues gliding against and tasting each other.
Mu Qing could fathom sweetness, her slick mixed with Feng Xin's fresh milk that still lingered in her mouth.
She sighed between passionate kisses, feeling so satiated yet still craving more .
"I know, baby. I'll give it to—"
Then, there was wailing.
Both of them straightened up at the sound of Cuo Cuo's cries.
"Shit..." Feng Xin, driven by instinct, rushed upstairs to her son, but stopped midway to look back at Mu Qing.
"Go. I'll be fine."
"I'll be back. Stay there," Feng Xin said.
"As if I could go anywhere looking like this," Mu Qing finally recovered her sass, even rolling her eyes at Feng Xin. "There's shards of glass everywhere, too, you know?"
Feng Xin found herself chuckling. She walked back to Mu Qing and caught her lips in hers but only for a moment as she pulled away just as sudden as she kissed her.
"You stay here because I'll be eating dinner," she said.
"Okay? Dinner is in the microwave. You need to heat it up again, though. I'm pretty sure it's—"
Another kiss silenced Mu Qing.
"I'm not talking about the tofu," Feng Xin smirked. "I'll eat you out."
With that said, Feng Xin hurried upstairs, leaving Mu Qing with eyes wide open and a heart malfunctioning.
"Oh my God."