As this occurred, my mother, who had been enjoying the sensation of her son sucking her breast, realized that milk was pouring out of her breast and inquired, "I have already milked out today, but why is there milk coming out?" she asked, puzzled.
On the other hand, I'm not sure what it signifies that you've already milked today. So I decided to inquire: "Mother, what do you mean by you have already milked out?"
Mother, who was looking at her breast, saw my puzzled expression and remarked, "Oh! I forgot you weren't aware of this. You're always the center of attention in the room, which is why you don't know."
"You know, son, when women reach a certain age in our village or any other town, they start producing milk, and they make enough for us to use at home or sell for money."
"And they also produce daily, which is why we have to milk out on day one, but I already milked out today, so I don't understand why this milk is coming out right now" .
I'm not sure how to convey how I feel right now after hearing that. I understand that sex is common in this culture, but today non-pregnant ladies can manufacture millks and use them at home.
Mother also casually mentioned that she was talking about everyday topics.
So, do you want to hear my thoughts? It's always been my desire to suck breasts and drink their milk; if I think this is unusual and don't drink, I'm not a true man.
"Mother, can I please drink your milk from your breast? I stated it clearly.
I'm excited to drink her milk right now; I don't want to think about anything else.
My goal is this lovely, large breast, and that white milk is oozing from the pink nipple.
My mother was wondering why her breast milk was flowing out; she had already milked from her breast today.
When she heard my request, she looked puzzled at me and said, "But you don't like milk, right? You're always trying not to drink this milk.
"So I have to force you to drink milk in order for you to grow a body and be healthy, but you're saying you want to drink that breast milk right now? I have no idea why."
I'm not sure how to respond to that, as she said. I can't say I'm not her son and another person in her son's body at the same time.
I'd be in a lot of trouble if I did that. I need to give a convincing justification so she believes I am her son.
After a bit of thought, I come up with a plan to trick her into thinking I am her son.
I made a sad face and looked at her, teary-eyed, and said, "I am so sorry, Mother, if I hurt your feelings."
"I don't like the milk you always give me in a wooden cup for breakfast or dinner; it's not tasty and always tastes sour."
When I stated that, tears streamed down my cheeks, but I continued, "Today, I drink milk directly from your breast, and I like that. Your milk is warm and delicious."
As I was saying this, I noticed her face breaking down in tears.
"But if you don't like it, I'll never drink milk from your breast again and will only drink from the wooden cup."
As I said this, I put my hand over my face and began to cry. My mom quickly hugged me when she saw that.
And cuddle me as though I were a newborn child. "I'm sorry, son," she sobbed quietly. "Even though I'm your mother, I have no idea what you like or dislike."
"Please don't cry, son; if you cry like this, my heart will hurt, my mother whispered as she brushed my hair.
"I don't mind if you drink milk directly from my breast; I enjoy it when you suck my nipple and touch my breast with your hand.
"You can drink as much milk directly from my breast as you want, but please forgive Mother this time," she added.
When she said that, I took my hands away from my face and said, "Do you mean you don't mind if I drink your milk directly from your breast?"
"I don't hate; I infect. I was feeling little existing when you were sucking my nipple," she smiled.
"Are you really feeling like you're existing? I inquired.
She took her hand in mine and began to wipe away my tears, saying, "Yes, and you are the reason for that, so don't cry, OK.
"Do you mind if I drink your milk every day, at any time, in any place? I inquired.
No, I will not hate it, but love it," she said, smiling as she hugged me.
She didn't notice the smirk on my face as she hugged me with a smile.
Because this was all my acting from the beginning, the innocent expression and tearful face were all made up.
I used to be the best in my acting class; I could truly fake tears and an expression, and I could deceive anyone into believing my faked emotion.
I'll be in serious trouble if I don't do this right now. My mother is suspicious of my actions, but I was able to handle the problem.
I am no longer her son, yet she certainly knows her son better than anyone else—how he speaks and eats. In the future, I must be mindful of my actions, including what I say and eat.