The apartment hummed with a contented silence, Kate's laughter still seemed to linger in the air, though she had long since departed. The rhythmic drumming of water hinted at Vera's presence in the shower, washing away the day's demands. Bella and Emily, their youthful energy spent, had retreated to their own room. Even Nadia, usually a whirlwind of activity, was unusually subdued, absorbed in the intricate dance of needle and thread, Mother had recently had a lot of order, and since the conversation had run dry, she went away to her room and work.
Leaning against the cool countertop, a soft smile playing on my lips. The atmosphere within these walls had undergone a sea change. It was no longer a place of guarded whispers and tense silences, but a haven of warmth and genuine affection. Even the most grueling days at work were softened by the anticipation of returning home, to this newfound harmony. The weight on my shoulders seemed to lift with each passing sunset, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years. The air itself seemed to vibrate with a quiet joy, a testament to the healing that had taken place within our unconventional family.
The shower ceased its hypnotic rhythm, and moments later, Vera emerged, wrapped in a fluffy towel, her hair damp and framing her face in dark curls. She joined me in the kitchen.
"He really has matured, hasn't he?" Vera commented, her voice soft, laden with a mixture of relief and quiet triumph.
I straightened, a dishcloth in my hand, and met her gaze. "He has. It feels like we've been holding our breath for years, and finally, we can exhale." The words felt inadequate to express the depth of the transformation we had witnessed in Sael. The volatile, unpredictable young man he once was seemed a distant, fading memory.
Vera nodded, her dark eyes reflecting the warm light of the kitchen. "Sael's old self is now truly history for all of us," I stated, and Vera also agreed. Still, even so, he still has his old habits, "But, that obsession with breasts and milk…. I thought it had already disappeared,".
Vera chuckled, a low, throaty sound that resonated with amusement and a hint of affection. "Some things, thankfully, never change entirely…".
Vera, now dressed in a comfortable silk robe, leaned against the counter, sipping her wine. "It seems," she said, her voice thoughtful, "that Sael is slowly becoming ready for more intimacy with the entire family…".
I agreed, I had noticed gradual but undeniable shift in his behavior, a softening of his edges, a willingness to connect on a deeper level. "At the sperm donation, I… I performed a blowjob on him... He seemed to… enjoy it a lot.". I confessed, a slight blush warming my cheeks. The memory, both exhilarating and slightly awkward, was still fresh in my mind.
Vera's eyes widened slightly, then softened into a knowing smile. "Oh yeah? That's a very positive step, Cathy…. A significant one.".
She continued, her voice laced with a touch of playful mischief, "He even managed to bring me to orgasm, just by playing with my breasts… He seems to genuinely want to please me, and us".
I smiled, a wave of warmth washing over me. This was more than just physical gratification; it was a sign that Sael was finally opening himself up to the complex tapestry of intimacy, learning to express his desires and connect with us on a deeper, more vulnerable level, as he should be.
Vera settled at the kitchen table, the clinking of her wine glass a soft counterpoint to the gentle hum of the refrigerator. I busied myself preparing a late-night snack for Sael – a simple sandwich and a glass of milk, a comfort he still craved, a link to his childhood.
"Hermana, we need to teach Sael about sex," Vera declared, her voice firm, cutting through the quiet.
I paused; knife poised over the bread. "I agree... He's still… a bit rough around the edges,". The flush returned to my cheeks as I recalled the intensity of his touch, the almost primal urgency in his movements.
Vera swirled the wine in her glass, her expression thoughtful. "It's what I like, rough and dominant, that, I won't lie…. But at the end of the day, he needs to understand that not every woman enjoys that kind of… dominance, he needs to learn to be more sensitive, to listen to woman needs and desires, and to do it properly,".
I nodded, placing the sandwich carefully on a plate. "Exactly. It's about mutual pleasure, not just his own gratification..." The conversation felt important, a necessary step in guiding Sael towards a healthier, more balanced understanding of intimacy. We needed to help him channel his passion into something that was both satisfying and respectful.
Vera, her wine glass now empty, rose from the table. "Anyway, I'm going to head to bed, first… Goodnight, Cathy." She disappeared down the hall, the soft rustle of her silk robe fading into the silence.
"Night, Vera". I picked up the tray, laden with Sael's snack and a glass of water, and made my way to his room. Usually, even late at night, his room was a bit locked, but today wasn't.
"[Knock! Knock...]". I knocked softly, calling his name, but received no response. A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. He was usually so immersed in his work, so attuned to his surroundings, that it was unusual for him not to answer, but he always answered.
A sense of unease washed over me. I pushed the door open slowly, peering into the dimly lit room. Sael was sitting in his chair, hunched over his desk, his back to me. The only illumination came from the glow of the computer screen, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls.
He was motionless, unnervingly still. The silence in the room felt heavy, suffocating. A shiver ran down my spine.
I stepped further into the room, my heart pounding in my chest. Even after I set the tray down on his PC table, he didn't notice and continued to just look dazed. He was sitting rigidly in his chair, his hands clamped over his mouth, his legs tapping against the floor in a rapid, frantic rhythm. His body was a picture of contained tension, as if he was struggling to hold himself together.
I recognized the signs immediately: a panic attack. The old Sael, the one consumed by anxiety and prone to violent outbursts, had been vulnerable to these episodes. But even in his most agitated state, he had always been hyper-aware of his surroundings, reacting with unpredictable force to anyone who approached him.
Now, as I drew closer, he remained frozen in place, his eyes vacant, unfocused. He didn't lash out, didn't scream, didn't even acknowledge my presence. This wasn't the Sael of recent months; this was something… older, something more fragile. It was as if the years had melted away, leaving behind the vulnerable, traumatized child he once was. The change in him was very obvious now.
I approached him cautiously, my movements slow and deliberate. Reaching out, I gently took his hands in mine. They were cold and clammy, trembling with repressed fear. He didn't flinch, didn't recoil. His grip remained loose, unresponsive.
"Sael," I murmured, my voice soft and soothing. "It's okay. I'm here...".
He remained silent, lost in the labyrinth of his own mind. Knowing what to do, with careful movements, I guided him towards the bed, gently easing him down until he was lying on his back. Then, without hesitation, I pulled my top over my head, the cool air caressing my skin.
Leaning over him, I carefully guided my nipple into his mouth. He latched on immediately, sucking with a desperate, almost frantic hunger. I took his hands and placed them on my other breast, guiding his fingers to knead and caress.
I knew this was his comfort zone, his sanctuary in times of distress. It was a primal connection, a link to the nurturing comfort of infancy. Even as he suckled, his hands grew more insistent, more demanding, his touch laced with a burgeoning arousal. He wasn't just seeking solace; he was seeking pleasure, and my body responded in kind. I knew that this side of him would always persist even as he changed more and more.
But this wasn't the time for sensual indulgence. My baby needed his mother. I focused on calming him, on soothing his frayed nerves, whispering words of comfort and reassurance, until the frantic sucking gradually subsided, replaced by a slow, rhythmic nursing.
'Huh? Mom?'. A wave of confusion washed over me as I slowly surfaced from the depths of my panic. My vision was blurry, unfocused. 'Where was I? What was happening?'.
Then, awareness returned in a rush. I was lying on my bed. And… Cathy's naked breasts were inches from my face. My right hand was pinching her giant, hard nipple roughly, and her other engorged nipple was in my mouth.
"My baby had woken up?". she murmured lovingly, her fingers gently caressing my hair.
Turns out I had a panic attack, where I simple become a Rodin statue, and she calmed me down. I thanked her for it, and she asked me why I got a panic attack. My body thrummed with a mixture of lingering anxiety and nascent desire. The taste of her nipple was intoxicating, the feel of her skin against my hands both grounding and arousing.
I pulled away slightly, embarrassed. "I… I'm sorry," I mumbled, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
She smiled softly; her eyes filled with understanding. "It's okay, baby…. Don't be ashamed, it happens… Keep sucking, Baby,".
"Oh, alright…". I went back sucking her delicious breast, since she offered it, it was comforting to me, and I loved it.
"What, made my baby, got a panic attack? It has been too long since you got one,". Mom asked while she keep brushing my hair and pushing my head on to her breast even more.
"It was because of this," I said, reaching for my phone and opening my online banking app. I showed her the screen.
Cathy looked at the screen for a few seconds, then rubbed her eyes, looking again. "...Is this real?". she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. "That's what's inside my bank account. 499, 146, 223.44 New US Dollars.". I watched as the realization dawned on her face, her eyes widening in astonishment.
"Holy shit," she cursed, and I chuckled as Mom is not the kind of person that cursed openly.
I grinned, feeling a surge of pride. "We're rich, Mom," I said, savoring the moment. The panic attack was gone, replaced by a heady mix of relief and exhilaration. The future stretched before us, filled with possibilities, opportunities, and the promise of a life beyond our wildest dreams. The tides had truly turned.