L Y N N D E N W O L D'S S T O R Y A R C H I V E

All stories and artwork found under this archive are property of the author, Lynndenwold Productions Ltd., and Tales Of The Tummy Studios Inc. They may be downloaded and read by private adult citizens. They are not to be used by commercial websites or posted anywhere else on the internet without permission from the author. Persons using this material on commercial sites will be vigorously pursued by the hounds from hell, or my legal team, whichever is deemed necessary. These stories were written for adult entertainment and should not be accessed by children.

Please note that all characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality. All my other stories can be found here. Enjoy!

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Mommy's Little Passions
Chapter One
by Jamie Lynndenwold
Copyright 2011




She was poor, and could only barely maintain a proper income to keep her bills and rent paid, and her son well taken care of.

Jeanette Darby failed high school, having to drop out in her junior year. Her father raped her at sixteen, resulting in a beautiful baby boy whom she named ‘Parker’. Now she depended entirely on welfare checks, food stamps, and social security to make it through, and most, if not all, the money she did earn went right to taking care of her little boy.

Jeanette was a full-sized woman, weighing at least 240 pounds with a skin complexion the color of rich milk chocolate. She didn’t even have a neck, just a rounded egg-shaped head that was almost in a perfect circle with light-brown hazel eyes that were thin curves to resemble dark eyes from a white Opera mask, a dark dot-like little bump on her upper cheek near her eye, and plump round lips with a silver piercing below them. A grinning black curve showed that she had two chins and then there were her somewhat-broad shoulders. Jeanette had big breasts – real big, huge, swollen, round breasts that would almost sit on her lap when she, herself, would take a seat. Then there was the firm-looking, perfectly-rounded, bulging belly that covered the waistband of every pair of bottoms she would wear.

Despite that it was her father’s baby, she loved her son very much – so much that she would even watch him when he slept peacefully in his girlishly-decorated crib with a pacifier in his mouth. Due to her excessive breastfeeding him, his stomach was bulged outward into the shape of a semi-ball that would rise and fall with each breath.

Parker was attired in a gray shirt designed to fit a baby his size, and a pink Cinderella diaper because she recently discovered her son could be transgender, and that she thought he looked cute in a girl’s diaper. She was in the room alone with her son, wearing nothing but a white shirt with an unzipped gray hoody over it. The shirt she wore under her gray hooded sweatshirt was plain white, and the fabric was so thin that every outline of the floral embroidery black bra she wore under it was plainly visible. Her shirt decorated with the airbrushed pink words ‘Proud to be a Mommy’ in two lines stretched across her mouthwateringly-large round bosom, outlined in black with pink hearts and smiling faces surrounding the words. She was bottomless except for an old white pair of Care Bear panties that were outlined in orange and were adorned with prints of smiling bear faces all over. These were the ones she had been wearing since she was fourteen and they amazingly still fit, but snuggly around the rounded bulge of her pubic mound. The shapely, cellulite-wrinkled mounds of her buttocks swallowed the back of her panties, showing just a small triangle at the upper front. A fluffy pink pair of Hello Kitty slippers covered her feet.

She reached in and ripped off the tapes of his girly diaper, and lowered the front to reveal a cute yet uncircumcised little penis, about the size of a pinky finger, that rested innocently over the scrotum that was no larger than a ping-pong ball. Jeanette’s nipples got all hard in her clothes as she reached down and lewdly fondled his little boy thing until they began to print through her shirt.

A small golden circle was stained in the middle of the inside of his diaper. Jeanette thought that maybe he peed himself a little as her wide nose was even greeted by such a smell, but it was ignorable. Parker began to wake slowly, and then he saw them leaning down and almost touching him. He lifted his arms for them but they were too short to reach.

“What?” asked Jeanette, looking down and trying to figure out what her baby was reaching so eagerly for.

She looked down again and saw both her arms reaching for her motherly mounds. “Oh, mah breasts?” She took her breasts in her hands and squeezed over them her white shirt as though she were teasing for a boyfriend. “Oh, yes,” said the baby boy’s mother. “Mommy got a big chest, don’t she?”

Jeanette lowered the wall of her crib and leaned in, sexually stroking her clothed breasts across his cute face. The boy giggled playfully as he squeezed his mother’s breasts until they moved with heavy velocity. Her breasts were so big that he could not hold onto them with his baby-sized hands.

Parker was much too young to understand “private parts” or anything of the like. So he never thought of his mother’s breasts as sexual parts, yet, just big huge bags of milk that also served as jumbo-sized squish toys for his little hands. Her mind grew sicker and she started to fall deeper in love with her son. Silently, her sister Bertha walked into the room and saw her in the act, rubbing her breasts in the boy’s face with her panties rolled halfway down her buttocks.

“Why are y’ titties all in ‘nat baby face like that?”

Bertha’s voice was rich with disapproval as she took her sister by surprise. When Jeanette turned to her, Bertha went over and was disgusted to find that his diaper was half off with his penis exposed. She took him out of his crib, carried him over her arm and patted his back.

“That’s my baby!” Jeanette spoke up in protest. Jeanette, when she spoke, revealed a cute-looking gap between her upper front teeth.

“And this is my nephew!” said Bertha with an dirty attitude, looking at her sister with eyes wide with distraught. “Don’t be rubbin’ y’ bulldozer titties all in this lil’ boy face!” Bertha gave her younger sister a look of shame, as she held the baby secure over her chest, holding the back of the head that rested over her shoulder as Jeanette watched her sister walk out the room with her son.

There came a time a year later when he learned how to speak. Parker no longer wore diapers but a pascifire would still be tucked in his mouth every now and then. One morning, she fed her son some oatmeal for breakfast and sat across from him at the table.

“You like y’ cereal, Parker?” asked Jeanette.

“Yeah,” her son answered. “It tastes better!”

“It taste better?” she repeated in question form to confirm.

“Yeah. It taste really good but it looks so dark!”

“You wanna know why?” asked Jeanette, watching him stir his Mickey Mouse spoon around the tan milk. The question made him look up as his mother. Then came her addition, “We ain’t have no more milk so I used the milk from out ma breasts.” Jeanette grabbed and squeezed her breasts, jiggling the motherly mammaries up and down in pattern form in front of her son’s lightening eyes. His mouth fell open and a stream of his mother’s breast milk came leaking out and his penis got all hard in his underwear. She went over and hugged him from behind, rubbing her titties against the back of his head before going to the bathroom to get the bathwater ready.

After breakfast, Jeanette and her son spent their bathtime together. When they took their bath together, she breastfed him in the bathwater and he nursed on his mother’s breasts like a starving infant before she washed them down really good. When they got out she set Paker on the lid of the toilet seat before she got their towels. Parker pointed to his mother’s bare breasts with curiosity.

“Mommy, what’s that black thingy on your boobies?” Parker asked, when he was five.

“Oh, this little thing right here?” asked his naked mother, as she wiggled her finger around her nipple. “It’s mah nipple. It’s where the milk come out where I feed you,” she explained, before she got dressed and dressed her son for the afternoon.

As a little boy, Parker had always wondered why his mother’s body was different from his - why she had those two big globes on her chest kids my his would call ‘boobies’, why she didn’t have a triangular bush of hair below her belly and between her legs instead of the little penis he had.

To Chapter Two



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