Erotic Fiction: Feed Me, Mommy

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My husband opened the front door, putting his briefcase down on the ground before untying and kicking off his dress shoes. He smiled at me from where I was in the living room, sitting on the carpeted floor with my back against the couch. I was flipping through the channels, my arm propped up on the fluffy sofa pillows.

He came to where I was and pressed a kiss to my mouth. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to go change.” I turned my attention back to the television, barely immersing myself into the images flickering across the screen before I heard my name called out, the two syllables ringing through the hallway from our bedroom.

I stood up, grinning as I crossed the house to him. Inside, I found him laying naked on a mat on the floor, arms splayed above his head and knees drawn up to his chest. It was Baby, ready to have his diaper put on. I comforted him with soothing words, grabbing a diaper and baby powder from the bottom drawer of our dresser. His bum was clean, so I sprinkled the powder over his skin, helped him lift his hips into the air, and secured the adhesive strips of the covering in place.

“Let’s go, Baby,” I said. “Want to watch TV?”

He nodded, rolling onto his knees and crawling behind me as I led him back to the living room. As I walked, I could hear the muffled movement of his shins rubbing against the cream-coloured carpeted floor, hear his soft sigh as he contentedly followed me. When we got to the living room, I offered to help him up onto the couch, but he shook his head, parking himself on the floor where I had been sitting not long before, back against the sofa and eyes trained on the television. 

“Should I put the kids’ channel on?” I asked, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. He nodded once, and I flicked on his preferred station. Children’s laughter filled the room, animated characters running around in costumes on the screen in front of us. Baby pat the spot on the ground beside him, indicating for me to join him. I lowered myself to the floor and placed a hand on his thigh affectionately as I watched the episode play out before us.

As he watched, his thumb found its way into his mouth, his transfixed eyes never moving away from the screen in front of him. He looked completely mesmerized sitting there, watching his favourite characters come to life. 

It wasn’t long before the program ended, and he turned to me.

“Want me to change the channel?”

“No, feed me, mommy.” Baby began to cry, reaching his arms out towards me, and grasping at my shirt with greedy fingers. As my top lifted, the bra underneath was exposed. Thanks to a swift yank, the cup fell forward, and he pulled himself up to my body for his mouth to firmly latch onto my nipple.

His heavy body weighed in my lap, back supported by my arms while the remainder of his body stretched out along the floor. He suckled greedily, his teeth nipping at my tender nipple while one hand twisted into my dark hair hanging over my shoulder. I urged Baby to be gentle, shifting his weight in my arms so that he could get a better angle while sucking. As his mouth formed against my breast, I stroked his hair, comforting him until his eyes slowly began to drift shut and he teetered on the precipice of finally falling asleep.

When his body stilled and his lips went slack, I carefully unlatched him and lifted him from my body. With one arm supporting his head and neck and the other grabbing a pillow from the sofa, I carefully laid him down on the floor for a nap. He sighed loudly in his sleep, yawning and curling up into a ball. I made sure that I stood up slowly, careful not to disturb him as I covered him in a fleece blanket and stepped away. 

With the television muted, I watched the lights of it flicker against his tranquil face, eyes closed and no longer fixated on the screen. I loved how peaceful he got after I fed him, his body relaxed and his face calm as he drifted into a dream world of his own; a place where he could be exactly who he wants to be.