Mummy's Good Girl

Part 3

Bit by bit, Mummy has been integrating me into her life. I wish I could reciprocate, but I didn't really have much of a life before I met her. Well, she's met my parents, and we attend shul together now. Anyway, a week ago we had dinner at the house of Mummy's friend (and now my art teacher) Masha and her husband Diego. A few days ago, she took me to a history department party, where I met a bunch of her colleagues and students. We didn't stay long: social situations like that, where I meet a whole whack of new people, are stressful for me, so Mummy made sure I didn't get overwhelmed.

It's mid-November now, the 16th of Cheshvan in the Hebrew calendar. In fact, tonight is the one-month anniversary of our walk in the park.

'Sweet girl, I want to take you out to dinner tonight for our month-iversary. I have been such a boring homebody ... I'm sorry, I've never taken you out for a real date like you deserve.'

At the moment, I'm contentedly lying on the couch with my head in Mummy's lap. One of her breasts fills my mouth. We've been having our regular late-afternoon titty-time. About a week ago, Mummy's milk came in: all that oral attention I've been paying to her breasts has gotten her maternal hormones humming. Now Mummy comes home from school with her breasts full of milk for me. We have titty-time first thing in the morning too, which is just about the nicest way to wake up ever invented.

Reluctantly, I release her nipple from my mouth. 'It's OK Mummy, I like being a homebody with you.'

I resume sucking, not because there's more milk -- I've pretty much emptied both sides by this point -- but just because I love having Mummy's nipple in my mouth.

'Thank you, sweet girl. Be that as it may ... I want to go some place nice tonight ... have a really nice meal with you, dress up a bit, show off my beautiful girlfriend a little bit. Would you indulge me, sweet girl?'

'Of course Mummy. Um, what should I wear?'

'Let me show you.'

We get up and she leads me to the bedroom. I'll do anything Mummy asks, of course, and wear anything she wants me to. But I don't really feel comfortable in grown-up outfits. Or make-up. They make me feel like an imposter, like I'm wearing a disguise but the disguise doesn't fool anyone. I've described this feeling to Mummy: she calls it 'little dysphoria'. So I don't own the sort of elegant outfit that goes with the swanky evening Mummy is planning.

'As it happens,' she pulls a Hudson's Bay bag out of the closet, 'I picked up a new dress for you today, at lunchtime. Let's see how you like it.'

The dress is green velvet, with long sleeves, a high neckline, and white lace trim: the sort of thing a twelve-year-old girl might wear for a piano recital. When I try it on, I see that the hem only comes down to mid-thigh. And it hugs my petite figure.

'Oh baby girl ... I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off you in that! Please say you like it?'

OK, this is 'little' enough for me to feel comfortable in, and sexy enough to turn Mummy on. Which turns me on. Which makes this dress perfect. Even if it weren't, the hunger in Mummy's eyes right now would make it totally worth it.

'I love it Mummy! Thank you.'

She goes into the closet to put on her own dress, and when she reemerges, I nearly have a spontaneous orgasm. The little black dress she's wearing hugs her figure as well ... but Mummy has a whole lot more figure to hug! The satin fabric can barely contain her abundant hips. Her curves could stop traffic. The diaphanous white shawl draped around her shoulders does nothing to hide the prominence of her bust.

'Talk about not being able to keep my hands off you ... oy gevalt, Mummy!'

* * *

We take an Uber to the fancy-shmancy Lebanese restaurant Mummy has chosen, so she can have some wine with dinner and not have to worry about driving afterwards. (I never take more than a sip of wine, but I can't drive.) I'm not very adventuresome when it comes to trying new foods. But when I was thirteen, I went on a rare vacation with my family to Israel, for my bat mitzvah. I had a crush on our madrikhah (tour guide), so I tried whatever food she suggested, hence I'm already familiar with felafel, hummus, and other middle-eastern dishes. That's why Mummy picked this restaurant. She orders the combination kebab platter for two, hold the labneh (that wouldn't be kosher with the meat). Plus a carafe of their Pinot Grigio.

Our waiter, Marcel, brings one glass. Mummy asks for a second glass, for me. He stiffens.

'But of course ... if I might see some proof of age for ... Mademoiselle?'

Clearly he thinks I'm her under-age daughter. At Mummy's insistence I get out my ID. He examines it carefully, shows it to the maitre d'. They confer. Finally, he brings a second glass.

'She's my girlfriend,' Mummy smiles proudly, refusing to be embarrassed, 'and I'm the luckiest woman in the world.'

'Yes Madame,' Marcel nods, tight-lipped, as he pours the wine.

Well, if Mummy's not going to be embarrassed, then neither am I. In fact, I'm going to up the ante.

'She's wrong, Marcel. I'm the lucky one! But darling ... are you sure you should be drinking wine? Remember, you are breastfeeding your little one.'

Mummy blushes scarlet. Then she counter-attacks. 'Oh, I don't think a little wine in my breastmilk will do you any harm, will it baby girl? Especially if you're going to have a glass yourself. Thank you Marcel, that will be all for now.'

'L'chaim,' Mummy says, and we sip our wine. Yuck. It's even drier than the kiddush wine at our shul. Why can't people just serve sweet Manischewitz like my Bubbe used to do?

Mummy calls him over again. 'You know what, Marcel, my baby girl doesn't want her wine after all. Can you please bring her ... say, a Shirley Temple instead?'

'Certainly Madame.' By now, he is looking at us like we're from the Addams Family.

'That was fun!' Mummy smirks mischievously after Marcel leaves us. 'I'll leave him a hefty tip to make up for messing with him.'

'I haven't seen this "Naughty Mummy" side of you before. I like it.'

'Oh yeah? There's more where that came from, sweet girl.'

'Such as ...?'

She thinks for a moment, then her face lights up with a diabolical smile.

'Go to the women's room right now. Take your panties off and put them in my purse here and bring them back to me.'

It's my turn to blush.