"Even at my age, I still produce breast milk..." I murmured, allowing my son, Mutsuo, to touch my breasts. He still craves this milk, still desires me as a woman. When I stop squeezing, he latches onto my nipple and begins to drink. Though I try to maintain my dignity as a parent, in the end, we cross the boundary of mother and child. Realizing I'm actually aroused by having my milk sucked, I give in once more, baring my heated body to my son again...