In Dreams You Are There

Her daughter was always full of surprises. So, when Regina Marchant told her daughter, Serena, that they were going to the family estate in Nantes for the summer, she expected the girl to whine, as she did other years before. But, in fact, she was ready with a surprise of her own- permission to stay at her late father's apartment in Paris, providing that Serena waited for her to come to the city so they could fly out together. Regina was still relatively young, having had her daughter in her late 20s. She didn't visit Paris often anymore, but she imagined that her teenage daughter would be happy to be on her own for two months. When she was Serena's age and traveling with her parents, she'd have jumped at the opportunity to experience it alone without them.

"No, Mummy, I want to stay with you in Nantes."

She was playing with her phone and did not see the look of surprise on her mother's face.

"You said you hated it. In fact, you've said for years that you've hated it. Why change? I thought you loved Paris."

"No, I want to go with you. I can always go next year."

Serena had yet to look up from her phone, so she assumed that because Regina didn't protest further that she didn't say anything out of the ordinary.

"Serena put the phone down. What's going on?"

"I told you, nothing."

"Serena, phone now, or I'll make it disappear."

The girl finished her clacking and put it down, scowling.

"Do you have a friend? A boyfriend there?"

"No, Mummy. What a question."

"Serena, it's alright if you're dating. I just want you to stay safe. Can you at least give me a name? Is it one of the neighbors?"

Her daughter giggled in that light-hearted way that could melt your heart. No mockery, just finding something genuinely silly. Regina unfurled her brow and smiled back before returning to packing.

"Like I've gotten a head start on an arranged marriage?" She laughed again.

"No, no, Serena." she tutted. "I didn't think that. But really- one last time- why stay with me?"

"I want to be with you."

"Alright, well, that had better be true. I'm not about to send you to the city after we get there."

She felt her daughter sidle up to her and quickly give her a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, Mummy."

She was never affectionate. Not since she turned 12, with the expected teenage bullshit: defiance, distance, telling her mother that she hated her (at every turn, it felt). She did notice that last year when she turned 17, she started to soften. Less hatred, actual adherence to curfew, even wanting to spend time together, which thrilled her, of course. She became less of a stranger: Serena loved the music of her mother's teenage years (wincing through her description as "the classics."), going back to practicing French (lazily, but an improvement since she dropped it in 5th grade), and, with a bit of prodding, she learned she had a girlfriend.

"For all of five minutes," Serena snorted over her glass of wine. She shared it on the first of many afternoon drinks together. Serena took her to cafés downtown that miraculously survived gentrification. Regina didn't move to New York until she was 22, graduating from university and shipping off to manage her father's gallery. Things had very much changed, but her clever girl managed to find these relics of the past that did not ask for ID.

Regardless, Serena didn't look like she was newly 18. She inherited her father's bright eyes with a premature crinkle at the corners. It balanced out her heart-shaped face and plump lips. Her haircut was youthful- shaggy bob that she almost always wore in a messy bun, leaving only her fringe to frame her face.

Though she didn't spend much time in Europe, she still picked up that coolness, what her American friends called a chic attitude, misusing the word. Where her friends scuttled to purchase fake IDs to drink at their favorite spots, Serena simply walked in. She ordered what she wanted without being questioned. That coolness came from her mother and father, who sucked the mystery out of everything her friends were dying to do. She imagined her the only relatively sober member of the group, probably holding her drunk friends' hair over toilet seats after a night of overdoing things.

"Ev was much, Mummy," she continued. "I was happier dating. Or I would have just pursued someone less...clingy."

Sexuality was another non-mystery- nothing that needed to be hidden. Regina and Manuel were straight and had short dating lives but never taught their daughter same-sex relationships were sins against nature. The parents of Serena's friends held meetings with teachers to discuss "what to do" in terms of sex education; meanwhile, her daughter was already aware of the mechanics of sex and didn't care.

She did notice Serena becoming freer with her body when walking through the house. She was never taught to be ashamed of her nudity, but she wore less and less every month. Breezier, with strappy dresses that ended just above the knee but flounced when she walked. The cut was a tease- so long as she kept moving, there was the promise of sex. Once standing and covered, she took it all back. She took long baths and didn't demand privacy. In fact, they spoke there, as well.

And the small touches of affection, a surprise every time. Over the summer, she kissed her cheeks hello when she returned from little trips with her friends. On the walk to the train, Regina would feel her hand brush hers. She asked her to help her dress for formal dinners. Nothing revealing, just the slow way she slipped on her bra and panties while Regina held up her outfit. Serena would look at her intently in the mirror as she zipped her up, her bright eyes never looking away from their reflection.

So, the kiss that afternoon as she packed was no surprise at all.

Regina was convinced her daughter would pull a fit on the way to the airport. Then she waited for it on the flight. She was still waiting when she knocked on Serena's open door as the girl unpacked.

"Okay, give it up. I'll give you some money to get to Paris. You can stop now."

"Mummy..."

When she turned, her face was severe. Eyes dark, mouth slightly pouty. This was the surprise.

"Mummy, please, I'm starting to feel like you think me a liar!"

"Darling, I'm sorry." Regina stepped in and took her daughter into her arms. "I just...this is new. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's okay, but please-" she said, pulling back. "I'm here. I promise I won't be up all your ass all summer. I still have friends here, and I'll be seeing them and still studying French and reading, and all that normal shit you do."

She playfully stuck out her tongue, and before they parted, the girl went on tiptoe and gave her mother a quick peck on the lips. Regina remained unfazed by it until she returned to her bedroom and her thoughts began to churn.

Tiredness? A joke? Leftover need from her breakup?

It wasn't awful. Some of Serena's friends greeted each other that way. Perhaps Serena, in her own way, was trying to say she wanted a friendship?

Regina lay in bed that night, unable to sleep. She tried to piece everything from the last year and make sense of it. Showing her body, getting close, her clothing...

Fucking Lolita. Fucking...stop it.

Regina banished the thought from her mind and rolled over, wrapping herself up in her sheets. She still called her "Mummy," did that mean something? No, why would it? The thought was ridiculous but remained in her head. The first rays of sunlight cut through her window before she nodded off, still trying to banish her suspicion from her mind.

Serena did see friends, as she said. Her small circle- a mix of young men and women- would sometimes come by for a glass of wine after coming back from wherever they went.

And as she said, she spent some nights studying. By some, Serena probably meant 10 minutes three times a week. Regina only knew this because her daughter could barely respond to her when she greeted her in the morning. She was busting balls, for sure, but at least it gave her an idea of what else she was up to. Serena joined her when she sunbathed, something else that was new. Her development was no mystery, but Regina was taken by her sweet, small breasts.

les seins parfaits qui conviendraient à un verre coupé

As her mother used to say to tease her for her own small breasts.

Serena kept her pubis covered ("I'll burn my snatch, Mummy."), but when she got up to leave, Regina caught a flash of bare pubis, making her look much younger.

Those afternoons drove Regina insane. The silence between them, which would be nothing under normal circumstances, was agonizing. She wanted to look at her daughter for longer, touch her in the places she touched herself; drag her thumb across the soft buds of her nipples; bury her face in her belly and kiss all the way down to her bare pubis. Then, gently lift the hood of her clitoris and lap it up with her tongue...

Her anxiety convinced her that Serena could read her mind if she dared look. However, she still questioned if this was some psychological game she played where she had no idea of wielding the pieces. She knew the power of her body and was unafraid to exert it. Regina thought she must have been bored not too long after her conquests. Through high school, she brought a small number of girlfriends and boyfriends who never lasted more than a few months. She was voracious.

Regina knew she had reached a breaking point when she stood in front of her bedroom mirror and looked for the traits Serena inherited:

Dark hair

Slender body

The same plump in her lips.

And her breasts. Regina crossed her arms to hide them from herself to keep from going any further. She was looking for a copy of her daughter to examine as she wanted to. But, except for pubic hair, she could have been standing in front of her daughter, unreachable behind reflective glass.

But no! She was not thinking of Serena that way. She was not looking at her as if she wanted her. She was not going to let Serena make her lose sleep over this game. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would call her out on it and demand she stops it. Her daughter was playing her for a fool, and she was going to end it.

---

Serena hadn't come downstairs for breakfast, or all morning, for that matter. It was possible that she stayed with one of those girls or was being extraordinarily lazy. At 2pm, with still no sign, Regina went up and knocked at her door. Without waiting for permission to enter, she walked in on her daughter lying on top of her sheets, legs and arms splayed and softly whining.

"Serena..."

"Mummy, my skin hurts, and my stomach is sour."

"Okay, skin doesn't hurt, Serena, and as for the stomach, did you overdo it with the girls last night?"

"No, Mummy!" she whined loudly. "I've got fucking sun poisoning!"

Regina rolled her eyes and sat beside her hardy burnt daughter.

"You know I'm a big baby when I get sick, Mummy."

She was. She was a big baby through head colds, headaches, bumping a knee into furniture in the dead of night. Yet, for all her confidence and strength, a part of the girl was made of glass.

"There's nothing for that. It just must pass. Stay in bed if you want. You'll feel better tomorrow."

"Wait-"Serena's fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Yes, what?"

"Just stay with me, Mummy. We haven't spent much time together this summer."

As if their afternoon sunbaths didn't take place at all.

"Take care of me, please?" Regina saw the seeds of a shit-eating grin on her face, the thing that got her what she wanted faster than her puppy dog eyes.

"I'll be back with some crackers and water. Pull out fresh sheets and cover yourself. They'll cool you down."

As if she needed further proof that Serena was still a defiant thing, Regina returned to see that she did lay a sheet down hurriedly. It seemed as she barely unfolded it but just laid on top of it.

The sheets wouldn't necessarily make Serena feel better. She just wanted relief from the anxiety of seeing her naked body.

"Could you close your legs at least?" Regina set a sleeve of crackers on the nightstand and a bottle of water she carried up in the pocket of her robe.

"Why? I'm not doing anything. Why are you so bothered?"

"I'm not bothered. I'm...have you been playing a game with me, Serena?"

"What game?"

"You've been...strange over the last year, and I see it ramp up here in Nantes. So, whatever you're playing at, we can discuss."

"Mummy." She sat up a bit too quickly, blowing her cover, but Regina let it slide. She continued with a straight face regardless.

"Mummy, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm trying to be less of a pain this year, really. Why can't I finally just enjoy a family trip? Am I supposed to be a pain? Mummy," she laughed. "Mummy, I'm not doing anything."

Regina pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. Serena was a terrible liar, but she was also persistent. She'd give up after ten minutes of interrogation and finally just admit to whatever needed to be addressed.

"You've never sunbathed with me before...."

"I was introduced to a girl not long after we got here." She bit into a saltine, making drifts of grain and salt collect in her lap.

'What? Is tanning a requirement?"

"She goes to the beach a lot. I wanted to hint at a commonality." She opened the bottle of water and drank it in one swig, then casually laid back on her bed, finally closing her legs.

Serena was good at providing answers for damn near everything. Believable ones that once you realized this exchange would never end, you gave up. Serena seemed over her illness enough that her mother got up to leave.

"Mummy..."

"Serena, please-"

"Just lay with me."

"What happened to that skin burn?"

Without thinking, Regina pulled the sheets down and settled in. She did this when she was sick, and she supposed that she never let that little girl go. Serena wrapped her arms around her mother. Regina only had a thin cotton shirt and felt the small bumps of her daughter's nipples dragging against hers. Serena seemed unable to sit still and kept it up. Regina closed her eyes and tried to pretend this wasn't happening, but she couldn't hold back.

"Serena, cut it out!" She held her still. Their breasts were still crunched together, but at least she wasn't moving. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night, either, or she didn't realize how bodily tired she felt. She felt Serena's breath puffing against her collarbone. Finally, the softness of the bed and the rhythmic breathing lulled her to sleep.

Regina dreamed that she was getting ready to feed Serena. They were back from the hospital, and her breasts were already aching. She put coconut oil on her nipples (strange) and then went back to the bedroom to nurse the baby.

But there was no baby. Instead, it was Serena at the age she was now, staring up at her mother dreamily.

Mummy, it's okay.

Regina was confused over her hesitancy. That was the baby she brought home; she was sure of it. How could it not be? This was her daughter right in front of her, and she still needed to be fed. Her nipples began to drip with oil, not milk, sliding down the cup of her breasts and trailing down her still round stomach.

I have to go back.

But she made no attempt to leave. She blinked and found herself seated with her back against the headboard. She saw Manuel's shadow behind the shower curtain in the ensuite bathroom. She was waiting for him to come out to ask him for help in finding the right baby, but the shadow looped through the same motions over and over. The song he hummed ended and started again.

Mummy.

Serena was in her lap, pawing at her still dripping breasts.

You said the oil makes them soft.

Serena guided a free hand to her bare chest. She flicked the swollen nipple with her thumb and watched milk flow from her. Regina found herself increasingly aroused and panicked, trying to get her daughter off her and run to her husband. If she could just get to him, he would fix it.

Mummy, just get it out.

Serena squeezed around the hand at her breast spraying a river of milk down her hand.

She shot up, awake, just as the milk hit her wrist. In a cold sweat, she tried to pinpoint where she was. She kept thinking Manuel was home, but she pulled herself out of it.

She was in Serena's bedroom in Nantes, and it was dark.

10:30.

Regina pulled her phone from her robe and opened a text message from her daughter:

DRINKS WITH LAYLA AND BEACH GIRL. HOME LATE.

Regina ran a clammy hand through her hair, shaking the last of the cobwebs of sleep. She walked back to her bedroom, tired from the energy she exerted in her dream. She undressed completely and slid under the sheets. She quickly palmed her breasts to confirm she was not lactating, but she immediately pulled them away. There was moisture in the center of her palm. She rushed to the bathroom mirror and pinched her nipple at the base, watching as tiny white dots surfaced at the dark pink, textured tip, which disappeared every time she let go.

But she hadn't lactated for over ten years. Serena was weaned at 2, and she almost immediately dried up. She remembered one night in bed with Manuel, where they joked that he won and got the very last of her milk. Then, in the dark, he found her breasts and latched on, as naturally as the baby did.

Instinct kicked in, and she brought her hand to the back of her husband's head and unconsciously cooed. She felt Manuel hardening at her calf. He slid back up, kissed her, and drove his long, thick cock into her. He gave a small huff, smiling down at his wife.

There's no way you could mistake me for the baby.

"It happens, 'Gina."

"Does it!?" she snapped. She roamed through the garden as she spoke to Céline, Manuel's sister. She worked as a midwife, so Regina hoped she would have an answer for her recent troubles.

"Okay, you can snap at me and walk off with nothing or you can be quiet and hear me out."

Regina stopped her pacing and apologized. She cocked her head to hold the phone between her ear and shoulder to rub the sudden goose flesh on her arms.

"Hormonal and psychological, simply. Women younger than you who have never had children experience it as well. It's never enough to draw out; it only leaves the nipples moist."

"My hormone levels are fine, Céline, and I'm just flustered. This can't be."

"Gina-"

"What?"

"Have you been spending a lot of time with Serena?"

The woman fell silent.

She wasn't prying. It was a typical question.

Serena was her niece and had every right to ask and-

"Gina?"

"Yes! Actually. Very strange, but we've become closer."

"There you have it- closer."

Mothers never really lost that bond with their infants, according to Céline. Instead, it was likely that the sudden change in their relationship, from hellish to loving, caused her body to react, regressing to a primal state, she called it.

"The spike in your mood is probably to blame. Your body is preparing for pregnancy. It'll stop when she wants to stop being friends."

Regina forced herself to sound positive, but she remained weighed down with dread. Finally, they wished each other goodbye, and Regina sat on the bench by the gate, rubbing her chin.

It made sense, she supposed. The change was sudden, and she was still young enough for weird shit to happen to her body, like sudden lactation.

Serena and her friends took a week-long trip to Nice, probably with Beach Girl, but Regina was not rid of her. In her dreams, Serena curled up in her arms, pawed at her chest, and tried to force her head down to suckle her, whining for the sweet oil on her increasingly swelling nipples. Manuel did leave the bathroom one night but simply smiled at her warmly, telling her in an underwater voice that his heart was swelling with joy. His lovely wife was solidifying their family. Manuel brought them together through the milk-white of his ejaculate. In turn, Regina brought the baby into the fold through the white of her milk.

Every night she woke up in a cold sweat and rushed to the bathroom to poke at her nipples. Then, the day before Serena returned, she finally swiped a single drop of colostrum from the sensitive tip.

Things were the same when Serena got back: sunbathing, crowing about some ache or pain, her kisses. Meanwhile, Regina's body was in revolt. The nightmares stopped, but the colostrum didn't. Through the first half of July, she stuffed napkins into her bra to keep from leaking. At dinners, she could hardly pay attention to the conversation, paranoid that her chest would leak. Then, one morning she watched her daughter take a casual stroll down the hall, stripped entirely of her clothing. Regina banged the door shut and stepped into the shower. She had forgotten to take her sleepwear off, so she scuttled out of the damp clothing as quickly as she could and threw them to the floor. The spray beat down on her chest, mixing with the thickening fluid exiting her body. She leaned back on the tile and gave a deep sigh. Serena was trying to kill her. She may either be doing it deliberately or so wrapped up in herself that she was blissfully unaware.

Céline told her to buy a breast pump.

"Won't that make it worse?"

Regina paced around her bedroom this time, staring down the ungodly heavy box that held the hospital-grade pump. She was convinced, in her madness, that the stronger the pull, the faster everything would come out and leave her alone.

"Just to get you through the summer. You're stressed, Gina. You must work through this. If you keep fighting it, your body will just react more. This will help you relax until things change- Serena starts uní, you go back to your clients, and you'll settle down. Just try it."

It took a minute for Regina to put it together. The tubes kept curling, and she kept attaching them to the wrong part, which her shaking hands did not help with. Finally completed, she held the shields to her breasts, lining up her nipples as best she could, and then switched the machine on with her toe. The familiar tiny mouths got to work, gently pulling her flesh in and out, pulsing dark skin molding into the tube of transparent plastic.

She was feeling better. She settled into the headboard and closed her eyes. She thought of the night she and Manuel made love for the millionth time, the one where they conceived Serena. The baby showers. Céline and their sisters clucking excitedly around her growing belly. Manuel's increased libido as she grew larger and her areolae grew darker- his mouth on the leaking teats, greedily sucking up the milk as it surfaced.

The first time she held Serena, pink and screaming under a tuft of dark hair, and her blind search for her mother's breast to fill herself with milk.

Perhaps this was something she was unconsciously carrying for 18 years. She lived a sensual life long before she married and in different ways after he passed. She was as spirited as Serena in youth; she and her husband made love a few times a week, even after Serena was born. All these parts of her life were centered around her breasts- biting, suckling, caressing. She may have been in a state of dormancy for the last few years. Dealing with a new adult woman made her forget herself.

She watched the condensation build around her nipples, like her worries being extracted from her body. She increased the suction, excited by the strength of its suction. Finally, her nipples, slightly sore, reached midway through the tube. She missed that part of her pregnancy: the stretch of the flesh from birth to the weaning period. After Manuel died, she would gently pull with two fingers side by side and watch the spray land above her belly.

It reminded her that his body was no longer hers. As a wife, she was a place to fill her husband's insatiable desires. As a mother, she was a sustainer of life. They took what they needed, and she was only happy to give.

She pumped while Serena was out every day, it seemed. She was introduced to Beach Girl, finally. Yvette, two years older than Serena and preparing for her third year of uni. She was tan, yes, and for once, Serena seemed proud to introduce a new girlfriend.

She mainly pumped in the bedroom, but on occasion, was brave enough to do it in the garden. Her milk came sooner when she closed her eyes and focused on every sensation around her body. The wind at her breasts. The heat of the sun on her thighs.

Manuel chased her naked through the garden once. An idea that sounded better with each pint of beer they consumed. They tore their clothes off and ran with Regina in the lead. Regina was ahead for a stretch before she felt his arms around her waist, and his powerful body tackled her to the ground. He rolled her onto her back and fucked her without ceremony. The run stoked flames of beastliness buried deep within- he mindlessly rutted into her, not caring that he was pumping deep enough to hurt.

She remembered looking up at the clear blue sky above them; Manuel grunted into her ear, tightening his legs, trying to make his orgasm last. It was one of the last of their fucking before they decided to have a baby. After this, she would dream about swollen bellies, perpetual wetness between her legs, small, warm bundles in her arms.

We're like the first man and woman ever to fuck

She whispered. Manuel thrust twice more before pulling his cock out and coming on her stomach.

----

After two weeks of pumping, she saw that she had enough milk to cover the bottom of the bottles. She became fixated with producing more, becoming addicted to the calm state she had been in since that phone call with Céline. Serena's bullshit went ignored, or at least she didn't engage her as much. They still bathed together, but Regina never returned to her daughter's bed and consistently pooh-poohed her latest passing ache to run to her bedroom and pump.

Serena was unusually quiet at breakfast. Regina noticed but assumed it was some nothing thing. She already knew she had broken up with Beach Girl, the heartbreak lasted one day, and by the next night, she was out having drinks. All her mother could think about was the pump. One more sip of coffee away. One more bite of toast away before she could run back and pump.

"Mummy?"

"Yes?" She knew she had a snap in her voice and hoped it stopped whatever mystery pain she would drum up next. Her daughter continued anyway.

"Did you ever breastfeed me?"

"Where did that question come from, Serena? Stop acting so strangely." She downed the last of her coffee (scorching her throat) and scuttled to the sink to drop her dishes. She made it just past the table when Serena answered.

"I saw you pumping."

Regina stopped dead in her tracks, her blood running cold. She pivoted, stomping toward Serena. She stood above her, suddenly hateful of her living reflection: that look of defiance that never entirely disappeared from her daughter's face.

"When? How?" she asked sharply.

"I passed by your bedroom. The door was still slightly open."

If her body was unconsciously keeping down her arousal, it must have also kept the anger alongside it. Regina had been doing everything blindly, not engaging with who and what surrounded her. There were only people and places that stood between the bourse to relieve her physical and mental agony.

Suddenly, everything came into focus as her open palm connected with her daughter's face, striking at the one who drove her to this addiction in the first place. She didn't hear her cry, just watched as her daughter's face flushed pink and mouth open in surprise. Hers was the little mouth she once fed. Hers was the tiny fist that tapped against her breasts. The wisp of hair that tickled her breastbone.

"You've been driving me crazy, Serena. Did you know that?" Regina screamed, getting right in her face.

"You- and this fucking game you've been playing all summer. Did you want me to look at you? Did you want to punish me for some reason I can't even begin to fathom? What do you want, Serena? You've taken so much, and now you're taking more! You have all of me, Serena! I have nothing left. Do you hear me?"

"Mummy, you're all I want!" she screamed back. Serena's hot face never moved away from her mother's. Shaking as she was, she never looked away. Regina struck her once more only to receive a strike back. Stunned, she stepped back, absorbing the pricking on her skin. Still in shock, she slumped against the doorframe and slid down to the floor. She watched as Serena stood and began to remove her clothing.

"Serena, stop," she mumbled.

The girl ignored her and continued sliding her pyjama pants down.

"Serena, please, I'm tired."

"Mummy." She awkwardly wrapped her arms around her mother, crushing her breasts into her kneecaps. Regina straightened her legs and allowed her to climb into her lap. Regina gently stroked her back as she nuzzled a wet face into her neck.

"Mummy, I want you. I want you, Mummy."

Regina felt like she was floating away. She was pinned by her naked teenage daughter; above her, a vision of her 8 months pregnant and nursing Manuel. The life they created was coming soon, and Regina's quiet joy kept arousing them both. They were standing, and Manuel dipped his head down to take a dark nipple into his mouth. Serena momentarily kicked against both their bellies; he sucked harder in response.

"Mummy, I want you."

Back down on the ground, her legs ached. She felt her shirt getting stained and just wanted to take all these loads off her.

"Serena, come to bed. Tell me everything there."

----

Her daughter sat across from her as she pumped, respecting her need for silence. For 15 minutes, she watched the pulsing of her mother's nipples, the slow drag of her mother's hand on her belly. Then, finally, her body relaxed and at peace.

Regina told her to shower and dress. Pyjamas, clothes, she didn't care; she just didn't want to see her body anymore. Regina showered and put a pair of loose pants on alone. By the time the cups were lined up, Serena was at the doorway.

Would Serena have done the same to Manuel? Try to drive him mad with the rules that allowed her to be so free? Would she press herself against his hairy chest when they sat on the couch to watch TV? Did she want him as much as she? At another time, another place, she could see him courting a carbon copy of herself. Serena, not as her daughter, just a girl from the big city who felt charged by every touch, no matter how innocent.

The pump ground down to a halt, and Regina gently plucked her breasts from the cups. A finger of milk in each. .5 inches of stretched, pink, and stiff teats. She put everything on the nightstand.

"Tell me everything." She beckoned for Serena to sit beside her with their arms touching. Regina felt tired. Her breasts still ached, but she didn't want to draw any more milk.

"I've been in love with you forever, Mummy."

"That's impossible- you want nothing to do with me. And why would anyone fuck their own mother?"

"Wait, it's not true...."

Her mother rolled her head back and waited for the truth.

"I have a recurring dream. In the dream, you, Daddy, and I were intimate. It was the year I turned 17...."

"Tell me more," Regina said quietly.

"But I'm afraid, Mummy, I don't want you to hit me."

"Nonsense, come here." She pulled her across her lap, dragging Serena's top across her nipples with her. She ignored the shock of pleasure and pulled her daughter close.

"Serena, it's alright. I'm not angry. Please, tell me the last time you had this dream. What did Manuel do? What did I do?" She breathed into her daughter's hair, whispering again that it was alright.

It was after she lost her virginity to a boy, Mattias, she saw that things changed.

"On my 17th birthday, it was Daddy that took my virginity...Mummy, he's dead, so I was frightened and crying, but he wrapped his strong arms around me; he kissed me; he came and told me he loved me."

Regina closed her eyes, picturing it clearly. Manuel would be gentle. He was with her at the start until both ramped things up. He would be sweet to his daughter; he would hold her through the pain, wait for her to move around his cock.

"And you, Mummy, Mummy, Mummy...."

"What did I do, darling?"

"Mummy, you let me suck your nipples for as long as I wanted. You never got tired. Daddy never got tired of watching. In the dream, I felt full. My mouth always tasted sweet. I could hear your heartbeat steadily...."

"And the rest of the dream on your 17th?"

Serena reached up and kissed her mother's breast.

"I was pregnant, and you drank from me."

Regina pushed her daughter on her back, her wet nipples dangled just above her face.

"Why wait until now?" she asked quietly.

"We couldn't be together in New York, but we can here. Everyone would know. I wanted to start over so we could be alone. I want to start at the beginning- the real beginning. I want to blindly suckle, skip to marrying you and Daddy, Daddy taking me for the first time, and you, filling me up, Mummy. Giving me your milk-"

Regina shushed her and guided a nipple to her lips. Serena instinctively latched on, hollowing her cheeks to suck, keeping her teeth from dragging on the sensitive flesh. Regina was indeed at peace for the first time. Her daughter was right where she belonged, comforted when feeling vulnerable, eased when feeling distressed, drawing from, and filling herself with the love of her mother. She brushed stray hair from her face. Serena's eyes were closed like a newborn. A soft hand, once a tiny fist, palmed at her other breast. She imagined Manuel holding them both close, never having been in that car crash, never having kissed them both goodbye on his way to meet a client. Staying in bed with Regina, having a morning fuck, and making him late. Perhaps watching over her and the baby when she nursed at 10:56am when he perished in the car wreckage.

"That was the three of us making love all our lives, Serena." She nudged her off her breast and kissed her, tasting milk on her lips. Serena slid down again and took the other to her lips.

"When you were a child, it was Mummy and Daddy and you, living in love from family. Daddy was a stranger, so he became a lover while remaining your father, and Mummy..." she swiftly pulled her upright to straddle her. Instinctually, Serena slipped off her shirt and offered her breasts. Regina latched on to the left nipple, the one closest to her heart.

"Oh, Mummy..." she cried softly.

Mummy gave her life. She was the first to drain her breasts that day and every day after until she was weaned. But Mummy never really let her go.

She detached and laid Serena on her back and took the other in her mouth. She had never made love to a woman, afraid she wouldn't know what to do. But Serena's body was a memorized map of sensitive flesh, birthmarks scattered like stars, and the warm hole between her legs where her mother could bury her desires as her husband did her. Teeth, tongue, and fingers to take her slowly, just like Manuel.

Regina felt her breasts swelling, and rather than reaching for the pump immediately, instructed Serena to grab a small tub of olive oil from the kitchen. When she returned, she had the pumps in each hand.

"Rub that oil on my nipples, Serena."

Delicate fingers painted clear, slick fluid around her near-black areolae. Her near overdoses of pumping left her buds stiff, but the skin eventually smoothed. She made it to 2/3rds of the tube yesterday. She wanted to make it all the way with her daughter beside her. Regina lined herself up, and Serena flicked the switch.

The skin shot up immediately. The shock made her cry out in pain as she snapped up from the headboard.

"Mummy, Mummy, please lie back. I'll help, tell me how to help. Her daughter's touch at the flesh of her breast brought her back to a still painful reality. The very tips of her nipples grazed the plastic inner lid, which, if pulled any further, would nick the skin. Serena turned the suction down and gently pushed her mother back.

"Something for myself, Serena."

Her daughter snuggled up next to her, hypnotized by the tandem pulsing. From the dark skin came white milk that momentarily collected at the top before shooting up into the bottles.

"A reminder of Manuel," she breathed. "A reminder of you when you needed me most."

She let a few more pulls go by, clocking the seconds she was taking between breaths.

"As a wife, you give up your body. Manuel, in your dream, made you his. If he took you more than once, he took you piece by piece, letting you think you were still free. He inseminates you, which deforms your body. You don't hate it, but it's no longer the body of wifehood. He takes more when your milk comes in. You're both constantly aroused; you fuck like animals. He takes the lead always. Your pregnancy is a contract of submission."

Regina turned and gave her daughter a deep kiss.

"You bring life into the world, and you give the rest. You wield some power, an infant cannot survive without milk, but the child deforms your body again. The most used part of you is stretched and not likely to return to normal."

Serena furrowed her brow and closed her eyes as if picturing each scenario. Regina imagined it as well: Daddy making her heart race; Daddy filling her up; Mummy sustaining her with the most intimate part of her body- second to the belly she occupied for 9 months.

The machine stopped grinding, and the pumps held still. Regina plucked them off carefully. Her nipples stood out proudly- shiny with oil and milk.

Serena crawled into her lap and straddled her. She wordlessly dipped her head and took her mother from tip to base. They were long enough that she could pull out and slide in regularly. She imagined Manuel had the other in his mouth, cock hard against her thigh and one hand at the small of her daughter's back. Both would relieve the thick wetness dripping from her cunt. She'd race toward orgasm; Manuel would drop the nipple and swiftly pin her with his body- ramming up against her cervix and holding it there. This would send her over the edge, crying as loudly as she did when Serena came into the world when the undercurrent of an endless orgasm disappeared immediately after she pushed out. Serena became the needy mouth at her breast.

While she drifted, she didn't notice Serena had stopped sucking. Instead, she felt strong suction at her clitoris, her squirming thighs pinned by her daughter's hands.

She wasn't too far. In fact, she was right at the edge; she cried for the second time and soaked her daughter's face with her fluids.

Epilogue

(Serena)

They briefly returned to New York to settle their affairs before they could relocate to Nantes. Mother and daughter slept together, with the young woman serving as a replacement for the pump her mother left behind.

Everything went so quickly. Paperwork, goodbyes, watching the furniture in the only house she knew in America disappear little by little.

The dream was different now. Daddy was even more affectionate as he went still inside her, palming the upper part of her pubis to distract her from the pain of being torn.

Mummy wanted her to tell her what changed. After settling into their new home, they spent time in the garden together, naked as if they were still in bed, her mother not caring that her milk was dripping freely. Serena slowly began to understand how much she loved this man, a handsome stranger who became less of one every time she had the dream:

He chased her through the garden.

He whispered to her in the dark- all the ways that her body would be beautiful if she were with child.

Shared a bath with her, carefully rubbing his cock at the small of her back as he washed and caressed her breasts.

Daddy felt more and more tactile with every visit. She told her mother of the scratches from his hairy chest and belly. The thickness of his fingers between her legs. Kisses where he momentarily sucked out her breath, leaving her dizzy until he broke it.

"Was he taking from me, Mummy?"

Bothered by the mess pooling in her mother's lap, Serena latched onto her mother's breast. She drained quickly and moved to the other offered breast.

She ended her suckling with a kiss before slipping back into the couch.

This was love. A love she would never find elsewhere, nor wanted to.

(Regina)

Her dream changed as well. Manuel sometimes took them in turn. Other times they suckled her together in their old bed.

Manuel chased her as well. Fucked her while she wore the remains of a wedding dress he tore with his bare hands. And under the careful watch of the delivery room doctors, observing from the brightly lit operating theatre, counting the seconds until they had to stop, for Serena was coming soon. When their time ran out, he placed the electrodes from the heart monitor on her chest and pressed his lips to her ear, keeping count.

Serena alone surfaced in two ways: one as a memory of her as an infant, nursing her in the garden. Nothing more.

The second found Serena with child. Manuel had impregnated her, and she was to wash her in the tub before her contractions wracked her body. Sitting behind her daughter in the tub, pressing her back into her chest, she ran a soft sponge over still modestly sized breasts. Her nipples were much darker than hers when she was carrying. Her nipples, however, barely stood out.

Serena gazed down at her huge belly, running her small hands over the stretched flesh.

"Manuel took from me," she said quietly. Regina's heart began to swell. He brought her through a narrow rite of passage, something created for themselves alone. He brought her into womanhood as her father but adored her like a lover. "Daddy" no longer felt adequate.

"Regina gave me life." The older woman buried her nose in her wet hair as if showing approval. She grew in her mother's love, from dependent to equal.

"And I..."

That was the part that always cut off. Regina would suddenly be pulled under the water and wake up in bed. It became an annoyance over time but relieved when she woke up to a still sleeping Serena in her bed.

"Yes," she answered, eyes closed and dripping again. "It sounds like he wanted the last of you- even the air in your lungs."

"Mummy, I want the dream to change."

Serena crawled into her soaked lap and ground down on her thighs. Regina pulled her in, latching on to still tiny nipples, untouched by sex.

Arousal swirled in her belly, so strong she knew they wouldn't make the bedroom without making a mess with their fluids. They sped walk through the garden as best they could with their thighs pressed together. Serena took the lead, but moments later, Regina caught her daughter by the shoulders and pulled her down to the ground. She watched Serena's chest rise and fall, pulsing like her nipples when she pumped. She lowered her head and grazed on them for what felt like hours. When she was done, the tips of her breasts were slick with grey spit, like the sweet oil she had her slather on before pumping.

"Serena, we can change things here."

Regina could already see her daughter's tan areolae turning deep brown. Her nipples stretched from plastic tubing. A body so tricked into preparing for pregnancy that the two would believe that Manuel fucked her himself.

She kissed her daughter full on the mouth, the tips of their nipples touching. The milk and oil dripped down Serena's nipples, making little rivulets down her chest.

"Mummy, you're giving me your milk."