Mr. X.
Hello!
I have just returned from a vacation and a trip to Leningrad, USSR, where I visited the famous Umuro Art Museum.
You may be wondering what this journey has to do with family love. Hold on, please hear me out.
In the nunnery, I saw an extremely prestigious and beautiful painting, ‘Mercy’ by the famous Dutch painter Paul Rebins.
Gazing at the canvas, I felt a strong sensual shudder, for the image depicted there was my father at the height of his illness, struggling to eat, and finally breastfeeding me so that he could overcome his illness and return to health.
The woman in the painting, Belo, a beautiful young young woman, uses the milk from her own full breasts to relieve her father’s hunger in order to save him from being imprisoned and fasting for many days.
This is a holy and touching scene, which shows the love of life and the warmth of parent-child relationship.
It made me proud because just a short time ago I had done the same act, and from this painting I was able to be liberated by the hold in my heart that I was not a lewd pervert.
Looking back at that time, it was about when I was twenty-two years old, my mother had just passed away, and I had graduated from college myself.
I went home to take care of Daddy and married my now-husband shortly thereafter, and after that, father and daughter continued to see each other from time to time.
Worried about the shock of my father’s loss, I took extra care of the man who was still not quite an old man.
Father and daughter are close and we often hug and kiss like young people.
A year later, I gave birth to my first child, and my dad was so excited about it that he often came to help with the care.
As a first-time mom, my full, firm breasts were more erect and filled with sweet breast milk to feed my child.
As a first-time mom, my full, firm breasts were more erect and filled with sweet breast milk to feed my child.
One month after giving birth, Dad suddenly developed an acute gastric ulcer and was hospitalized for surgery.
The next day, I left my children in the care of a neighbor and rushed to the hospital for a visit.
Dad looked pale and showed unprecedented weakness, but I could see that things were improving.
After a short conversation, I choked up and said, “Dad, I’m really sorry to see you so sick and in so much pain, is there anything I can do to make you feel better and get better faster?”
My father looked at me for a while, and finally turned his head sideways and whispered, “Anna, my good daughter, you can do it… Can you… Can you let my father suck on your milk? Daddy’s stomach hurts so much that he can’t eat anything.”
As he said this, Dad reached down to my chest and rubbed one side of my plump, firm nipple bulb through my shirt.
After years of deep father-daughter love, I didn’t half hesitate and nodded my head, “As long as I can make dad feel better, I’ll do anything, no problem.”
I locked the door and unhooked my bra, exposing a pair of snowy white, fragrant, smooth boobs.
Daddy lay on the bed and I bent over, letting my huge breasts hang low at his mouth.
Without another word, Dad grasped it in the palm of his broad, warm hand, gently caressing and braying it.
As he squeezed the pink buds, hot, fragrant milk spilled over his face like a fountain.
Daddy tilted his head slightly, taking the delicate, sensitive tip of his nipple into his mouth, sucking on the moist purple grapes, savoring each juice.
Within seconds, I could feel the milk flowing out in abundance, and my dad was sucking more intently and harder.
Daddy’s tongue swept back and forth across the tips of my nipples, an indescribable thrill that sent shivers down my spine.
The milk in the breasts poured out like a torrent, a hot stimulation that affected both physiology and psychology, causing the mare to spasm, and the breasts in front of her breasts became even hotter like a fire.
Suddenly, I realized that my bottom was completely wet.
This surprised me greatly because the stimulation that my dad was giving me was radically different than when I was breastfeeding my son.
Unprecedented orgasms hit me, and I shuddered involuntarily, my body trembling violently.
Undeterred, Daddy moved his mouth to the other sweet, juicy breast, sucking greedily and forcefully until the milk was sucked dry and the breast changed from bulging to soft.
This surprised me greatly because the stimulation that my dad was giving me was radically different than when I was breastfeeding my son.
Unprecedented orgasms hit me, and I shuddered involuntarily, my body trembling violently.
Undeterred, Daddy moved his mouth to the other sweet, juicy breast, sucking greedily and forcefully until the milk was sucked dry and the breast changed from bulging to soft.
Following that, he withdrew his mouth and sighed, “That’s wonderful, my sweet girl, it’s the best gift you could ever give your daddy, you know? I loved your mother’s milk when she was breastfeeding you, but I can’t believe how much better it tastes now!”
Smiling at each other, we held each other tightly as father and daughter, unable to contain ourselves from kissing each other while Daddy played back and forth, lovingly, over the already drained breasts.
The whole thing about being able to feed my father with my own milk excited me from the bottom of my heart.
I can’t even wait for the next visit. Tomorrow, I must bring another pair of plump, well-filled milk-filled breasts to visit my dad.
For this reason, I have adjusted my son’s feeding time a bit and partially switched to formula milk, so that even though my son doesn’t get enough breastmilk, he can have his dad’s fill of it.
Supplying both wants at the same time, the father, in particular, is like a little urchin who stubbornly licks and sucks the nipple even when the milk in the breast has dried up. Too much intensive milk production has a marked effect on the yield of milk.
My breasts were much bigger and fuller than ever before and produced more milk than expected.
Visit Dad every day and let him suckle at least once a day.
Time and place got in the way and we weren’t able to enjoy the exciting and wonderful act properly, so Dad and I decided that we would bring him straight home to recuperate.
My husband, who often travels abroad and who, unbeknownst to me, thought it would be ideal to have a dad to look after the house and yard and act as a temporary babysitter, agreed with confidence.
And because of that, I was able to realize this new hobby.
What he didn’t know was that on the day I picked up my dad from the hospital, father and daughter were naked and naked on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom, and we shared each other’s flesh until we were exhausted.
It started on the way home.
Dad said: “Good girl, Dad hope you still have some milk now, I can not eat the hospital food, and now the stomach aches again.”
I laughed and said, “Dad, I’ve been saving it for you! It’s still fresh!”
With that, I took the initiative to lift up my sweater, which was bra-less on the inside, so that Daddy could get a direct view of a pair of heavy, rounded breast globes with tantalizing lavender buds.
Daddy bent down and took the tip of one breast into his mouth and sucked obliviously.
I grinned and pulled my sweater up and over his head so that even if I stopped at a stoplight, I didn’t have to worry about people seeing Dad.
The excitement of trying such a sexy and revealing thing in broad daylight, in public, made my mare twitch uncontrollably, and my rolling love juices couldn’t stop gushing out.
When we got home, I lay on the big bed, letting my dad use his hands and mouth to play with a pair of firm tits, tweak my sensitive honey lips, and poke his fingers into my turgid waves, making me gasp with excitement.
Finally, I almost cried out, begging my dad.
“Give it to me… Daddy… Come on, thrust it in… My daughter wants Daddy to thrust his big cock into her… Fuck me hard… Daddy!”
Of course he did, and as he climaxed, he poured his hot, thick cum all over my pussy.
That day, before my husband came home from work, we enjoyed three intense father-daughter fucks and still weren’t satisfied.
After that, every morning after I fed my son, my dad would suck the remaining milk from my breasts, and then we would share each other’s flesh and make love like a young couple on the big bed in the master bedroom.
Between each sex session, Dad was like a young child, lingering on my snow-white breasts, often pouring his endless milk on the skin of his breasts, then smearing it with the thick cum that flowed out of them, teasing me to take so much as a sip from you and a sip from me, and then a passionate kiss, savoring the taste of each other’s mouths.
Whenever my husband is away, my dad in bed is just so angry and a perfect and passionate lover.
This went on for two years and I was so engrossed in it that I didn’t want to end it at all.
But sadly I have to, because I am now six months pregnant.
The baby in the belly, it’s the father’s seed!
We are very joyful as father and daughter because we love each other so deeply.
And at this moment, looking at this painting, I can understand how the Roman girl in the painting, Belo, felt at that time.
I am even more grateful to Rebince, because of whom this scene of mercy looks so holy, beautiful & monumental.
Anna Arboretum.