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I had just finished putting my son, Mark, back in his crib for a nap. He was a good baby, now nearly a year old. I was debating whether to wean him soon. Breast-feeding has a lot of advantages for a stay-at-home mother, and the benefits to my son Mark were obvious. He’d never had a cold or an ear infection. My husband, Bill, had died shortly after Mark was born the victim of a drunk driving accident. Mark had Bill’s blue eyes, and I enjoyed looking into them when he nursed.

Despite having grown considerably in a year, Mark still wasn’t able to use all of the milk I was producing, so I pumped out the excess and saved it for an emergency. At 5′ 10″ tall, my large breasts were producing a river of milk. I’d always heard stories that small-breasted women produce as much milk as large breasted ones. I don’t believe it.

Bill had been an executive with a computer company here in Houston. Between his stock and insurance Mark and I were set for life, but no amount of money could make up for the loss of Bill. I had been a registered nurse before quitting when I got pregnant. Perhaps someday I’ll go back to work, but not now.

In addition to caring for Mark, I had the issue of Bobby to deal with. He had been orphaned at 16, and Bill had suggested we take him in. He had no close relatives anywhere near Houston. He was a good boy, though sickly with asthma that had gotten worse despite the best of medical care. He was 18 now, but only 5′ 6” tall. Being sick so much had made him introverted, and I wondered how he would fare when he went off to college next fall. I wished that there were something I could do to help him regain his health.

Bobby had been out on a date last night, and I had gone to bed before he arrived home. He was a responsible kid, so I wasn’t worried about him. Nevertheless, I was eager to hear how his date went. As I opened the Sunday paper I could here him getting out of bed.

“Good morning, Brenda”, he said softly as he walked to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He wasn’t his usual cheerful self. Even though he was shy, he nearly always had an air of optimism surrounding him. My guess was that the date didn’t go well. Nothing is more traumatic to an 18-year-old male than a bad date.

“Would you like some eggs?” I asked, not wanting to probe directly. Even though I was 10 years older than he was, I was more like a sister than a parent.

“O.K.”, he replied, sadly, not looking me in the eye. He reached for the sports page and sat at the kitchen table as I started to make breakfast. As I scrambled some eggs he pretended to read the paper, but I could see he wasn’t really reading it.

“Are you feeling all right”, I asked, handing him eggs and some whole-wheat toast. I went to the refrigerator and poured some orange juice. I sat down across from him and began to eat my eggs.

Finally he looked up. “I had an asthma attack on my date with Patti.” he said, “It was awful”.

“I’m sorry.” I replied, “but I’m sure she’ll understand that you can’t help it.”

“I don’t think so.,” he said softly, ‘It’s happened before.”

His attacks were usually triggered by too much physical exertion, so I was surprised since they had planned on going to a movie. “What happened?” I asked, not thinking.

He blushed. “I don’t want to talk about It.” he stammered, toying with his now cold eggs. “It’s too embarrassing”.

Patti was a pretty classmate of his. They had been dating for a couple of months. “Bobby, it’s O.K.”, I said, “I’m pretty sure I know what happened”.

He slumped in his chair. “Oh great.” He said sarcastically,

I remembered from my days as a nurse that some asthmatics would have attacks triggered by the exertion and excitement of having sex. It had never occurred to me that this might happen to him so I never discussed the possibility. “You and Patti were having sex when you had an attack before you were finished”.

“Worse.” he said, looking up at me, “we never really even got started. It was a disaster”.

‘Bobby, I’m a trained nurse, maybe I can help.” Bobby new about my nursing background, but what he didn’t know was that I worked my way through UCLA by giving erotic massages out of an apartment in Santa Monica. I had a lot of experience with men’s sexual response at a pretty detailed technical level. “Tell me what happened”, I said, “Let me help.”

“I can’t talk about something like this with you”, he stammered, blushing yet again. Bobby’s parents were strict fundamentalist Christians, so sex was not likely a common topic of discussion. This wasn’t going to be easy, but I had to diagnose the severity of the problem.

“Bobby, this is important.” I insisted, “It is important to be able to enjoy intimacy. I want you to be successful in this area. It is an important part of being an adult”

He started eating his eggs. I continued eating some toast. I waited. Finally he began to speak.

“After the movie we went over to her house. Her parents were gone to the shore for the weekend. We started making out on the living room couch and one thing led to Ankara escort another.” he said, “And I began getting short of breath and coughing bad. We had to stop. When I caught my breath we tried again and the same thing happened, so I left.”

“Exactly what were you doing when the symptoms appeared”, I asked.

“I can’t”, he blushed again.

“Yes you can.” I said, “If you want me to help.”

More silence. Finally he began to speak again, not looking me in the eye. “We were undressed down to our shorts. We were kissing and I was feeling her bare breasts. She said she wasn’t ready to do it with me but she’d play with me. She started and that’s when the attack started.”

“So the excitement of having Patti jerking you off brought on the attack”, I said.

“I guess so.” he replied sheepishly.

“Is that as far as you’ve ever gotten with a girl.” I asked.

“Yeah, the same thing happened last year with Jamie.” he added.

I knew his asthma was bad, but this was really alarming. I had to know more. “Have you ever had an attack while jerking yourself off?” I asked. “And all guys jerk off, so don’t tell me you don’t!”

He turned red again. “I don’t believe I’m telling you this…” he said. “I’ve never been able to finish before having an attack.”

“You mean you’ve never been able to ejaculate, you know, cum.”, I asked.

“No. I gave up trying after awhile. I don’t try anymore. Now I don’t see any reason to ask anyone out either.” he added.

“Bobby, I know it’s been hard to talk about this, but now that I know, I want to help. There has got to be a way to get beyond this.”

He got up from the table and said, ” Well if you think of something let me know. Instead of going to college I may as well enter a monastery.”

I had already done a lot of research on asthma, and Bobby was on the latest medication. There must be something else we could try. I could hear Mark crying in the nursery. He was either wet or hungry or both. I changed a dirty diaper and sat down with him in a rocking chair to let him nurse. He looked so content sucking my big tit. I though that this was probably the best breast he’d ever have in his life, and he wouldn’t even remember it.

Then it hit me. I remembered from my massage days how excitable my younger customers were. I’d start the massage wearing a bikini with the guy on his stomach. After rubbing his back I’d take my top off and have him role over. I actually had a couple of guys shoot their load just from the anticipation of me jerking them off once they rolled over and saw the prettiest tits they could ever imagine inches from their face. If they became regular clients they’d eventually get used to it and I’d be able to give them a proper hand job before they lose it. Bobby just needed to slowly build up some experience so he wouldn’t get so excited. We also needed to boost his immune system to raise the threshold of excitement that would trigger an attack.

I had a lot of breast milk in storage. If it is the best thing for a baby’s immune system, it should help an adult, too. We needed to try breast milk therapy right away. We also needed to practice having Bobby being aroused without getting so excited he’d have an attack. I’d need help from his girlfriend on that one. I’d need her to get him aroused a little at a time and maintain it, eventually working him up to an orgasm. With luck and patience he should eventually be able to have normal complete sex with her.

I thought about this plan for nearly a week before suggesting it to Bobby. I wanted to be sure there were no flaws. I was about to wean Mark, so there would be plenty of milk available. I’d just keep using my breast pump and saving the milk for Bobby. Hopefully, by the time school started in the fall his immune system would be strong enough without my contribution.

I waited until Saturday morning to suggest my plan. Once again we were staring at each other over scrambled eggs. “Bobby, I’ve got some ideas to help with what we discussed last week.” I said cheerfully. “Can I tell you?” He looked up. “OK” he said.

“We’ll need help from your girlfriend. Do you think Patti will be interested?” I asked.

“We broke up. I don’t have a girlfriend. I’ll probably never have a girlfriend.” he said softly.

“Oh. Well let me think a minute.” I said. “Well let’s talk about what we need to do first, then we can figure out the rest. First, we need to boost your immune system. I want you to start drinking the frozen breast milk I’ve saved. It could make a big difference.”

“I don’t know, it feels funny”, he said, “the idea of drinking your milk”.

“John D. Rockefeller paid women to produce milk for him which he drank every day as an old man. He lived into his 90’s and many think that’s why.” I said firmly, “Don’t be a prude.”

“OK, I’ll try it. I’ve got nothing to lose, I guess.” said Bobby, ‘Just don’t tell anyone I’m doing this. O.K.?”

“Of course.” I relied, no one will know but us.” I had already thawed some milk, so I went to the refrigerator and poured a six-ounce Ankara escort bayan glass of breast milk. I handed it to Bobby. He looked at it for a moment and began to drink it. First just a small amount to gauge the taste, I guess. Finding it not so bad he drank the rest.

“I don’t believe I’m doing this.” he smiled.

It was the first smile I’d seen from him in days. It was a start. Now we needed to get him to relax in sexual situations. With no girlfriend available, that would be a challenge. It occurred to me that I still had my massage table in storage from when I was in nursing school. Perhaps I could start by getting him comfortable having a woman’s hands on his body and go from there.

We finished breakfast. Bobby seemed more cheerful, having found that drinking my milk wasn’t so difficult after all. “I need some help”, I said. “I need to get something out of storage.”

“Sure. Do you want to get it now.” he replied.

I nodded and we walked out to the garage, which had a large amount of storage in the loft. “Take it slow”, I said, “It’s another scorching hot day.”

We got the table down and I got some clean rags to wipe it down. In a few minutes it was as good as new. “Let’s bring it into the house”, I said, “We can put it in the exercise room.”

“What is this anyway?” Bobby asked as we each carried an end into the exercise room. The room had a treadmill and some free weights, so there was plenty of room for the table.

“It’s a massage table.” I said. “Like the kind you see in pro locker rooms. Top athletes get regular massages to relax their muscles before or after a game or workout.”

“Do you know how to use it?” he asked innocently, not realizing what I was planning for him.

“I worked my way through nursing school as a masseuse.” I replied. “I’ll show you after I feed Mark.”

I could hear Mark crying in the nursery so I went to take care of him. In an hour he was changed and fed and ensconced in his playpen. I went to my closet and selected a white bikini. Not a real skimpy one, as I didn’t want to tip Bobby off before we got started. This one had a top large enough to cover most of my breasts, and the white fabric contrasted nicely with my tan. Bobby had seen me in this suit in our pool on numerous occasions.

I went to the bathroom and got some baby oil. Real massage oil would be better, but this would do for now. I also got a large white towel. I took a deep breath and went to find Bobby. I found in his bedroom working on his computer. His door was open so I poked my head in. “I’d like to try out the massage table.” I said, “Will you help?”

“Sure. What do you want?” he asked.

“Get undressed and wrap this towel around your waist. When you are ready meet me in the exercise room.” I said. Before he could respond I popped out of his room as quickly as I had entered. I went to the exercise room and weighted, giddy with anticipation.

In a few minutes he appeared, looking a bit suspicious. Even though he was small, he was well proportioned for someone who was not able to be an athlete. “Lie on your stomach.” I said, motioning to the table. He complied, moving carefully so as not to lose his towel.

“What do I do.” he asked nervously.

“Just relax. I’ll do all the work. Don’t worry, I’ve never given anyone a massage that didn’t enjoy it.” I said. It was true; I never had a dissatisfied customer. I began to rub the oil into his shoulders. He was looking at the floor through the headrest, which was shaped like an oval “O” ring. He could glimpse my bear feet, but that was about all.

“I’d like to get you more relaxed when you are with a woman.” I said. “That just takes practice and experience. Once you get comfortable in these situations you won’t trigger the asthma attacks. You need to learn to be comfortable being sexually aroused. You don’t want to be stressed in a sexual situation. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I asked, calmly.

“Not exactly.” he stammered, shifting his body slightly.

“Well, when you were making out with Cathy were you nervous about being naked with her?” I asked, moving down to his feet. I began to rub oil into his left foot, massaging it deeply.

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty nervous. I’m not sure why.” He replied.

“It is perfectly normal to be very excited when sex is new to you. Everyone gets through it. In your case it is a problem because your excitement is triggering the asthma attacks. We need to get you comfortable in sexual situations. The first step is to be comfortable being nude in the presence of a woman.” I said. I immediately went to his side and deftly removed his towel. He was now completely naked, still looking at the floor.

I began rubbing oil into his butt. H was white there; contrasting with the rest of his body which was quite tanned. The minutes passed as I worked him over. He said nothing. Gradually I could feel him begin to relax.

” How are you doing?” I asked softly, “Do you feel OK?”

“Better.” he said, “This just feels a little strange having you do this Escort Ankara to me.”

“Just relax.” I said reassuringly, “People pay good money to get this treatment that you’re getting for free!” I teased. I continued with his arms, shoulders and hands, moving around him like the professional I once was. Silently, I removed my Bikini top, exposing the loveliest breasts he might ever encounter. “Roll over onto your back.” I instructed matter-of-factly. “I need to do your front”.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. “Come on, I need to do your front. It’ll be OK.” I said reassuringly.

Not realizing that I was now topless, he rolled over. He gasped as my bare breasts came into view inches from his face. He turned bright red.

“It’s OK. Just relax.” I said. “We’ve got to get you used to this.”

I held his hand. “Breathe deep. Relax”, I said, “It’s OK.

His cock was already semi hard when he rolled over, and now I could see it getting harder still.

“You need to get used to having a hard-on. Just relax and breathe slowly. It’ll be OK.”

I stroked his arm gently for a moment. He closed his eyes. I began to rub oil into his chest. I’d avoid his genital area today. This was all he was going to be able to handle for the moment. Gradually he began to breathe more slowly and deeply. I rubbed him for a half-hour more. He remained hard the whole time, but began to breathe much better.

“You’re doing great.” I said, “We’re done for today. Take a shower and get dressed. I know you are aroused, but don’t try to jerk off. Just let it get soft and you’ll be fine.” I said, handing him the towel.

I left to check on Mark in the playpen. It was time to spend some time with my son.

A week later…

Every morning Bobby got six ounces of my milk to start the day. After school he got a one-hour massage. Before bed he drank another six ounces of breast milk. It was Saturday morning once again. I was excited at the progress he was making. He hadn’t had a single attack all week, despite the constant arousal I was providing. It was time to increase the sexual tension.

He was eating his eggs and toast with more gusto than normal. His eyes had a bright look about them.

“You’ve got an appetite today!” I said, “It’s great to see you enthusiastic about something.”

He looked at the half empty glass of milk on the table. “I think this milk is actually helping me!” he said. “I’ve been breathing a little better every day. It’s amazing.”

“Let’s not declare victory just yet.” I cautioned. “You still haven’t had to exert yourself at all. I think you should try spending some time on the treadmill and doing a little lifting with the free weights. Nothing taxing. Let’s start easy.”

“Good idea.” he said enthusiastically.

It was another hot Houston day. It was too hot to be walking outside. The treadmill was ideal. I had on another bikini, slightly more revealing than the white one. Bobby joined me in the exercise room wearing sneakers and shorts.

“Lose the shorts.” I said. “There’s no one here to see you but me.”

He slipped off his shorts and underwear reluctantly and got on the treadmill. We started at 2 miles per hour. I watched him tread for a few minutes, his semi hard cock bouncing with each step. I was starting to get aroused myself, which was not my intent, so I went over to the free weights. I took off my bikini top, then the bottom. I started working out with the free weights while Bobby treaded.

After about 15 minutes I said “That’s enough.” and he stopped the treadmill. “Start with the 5 pound free weights.” I said. His eyes were big as saucers when he realized I was completely naked. He was trying hard not to look at my naturally blonde bush, but he couldn’t help himself. He was getting really hard.

I had him work with the weights for about 15 minutes. “OK, that should do it.” I said. “Take off your sneakers and get on the table.”

I spent about 20 minutes rubbing him as he lay on his stomach. He finally relaxed, so I had him roll over. I started at his feet, watching his cock to get a sense of his arousal level. He was doing fine, just semi-hard and breathing slowly. We were making real progress. It was time to escalate.

I walked around and stood behind his head. I reached out and massaged his chest. Leaning over as my hands extended down to his belly. My breasts were hanging right over his face, giving him a view he wouldn’t soon forget. He suddenly got very hard, so I backed off and moved to his side.

I worked on his stomach, continuing to avoid his genital area. “What do you think of them?” I asked.

He looked puzzled. “Think of what?” he stammered.

“These.” I said, taking a breast in each hand. “Do you like them?”

He blushed. “They’re beautiful…you’re beautiful.” he said, his voice quivering.

“Good.” I said, “Because if I don’t arouse you this treatment won’t have any effect.”

I took his right hand and put it on my right breast. He stroked it gently, causing a few drops of milk to appear. “Sorry for the leakage.” I said, “I’m pretty full. Mark’s eating more solid foods.” He continued to gently stroke my full breast and drops of milk trickled down. He was still breathing slowly and deeply. More progress being made.

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