No! You have breakfast to get going!

Deciding not to engage in your own, sexual perversion, you toss the toilet into the lemon clearness and pull your pink, matching panties up and over your aroused eagerness. You then flush, wash up, and hurry downstairs.

The house was still asleep. Nothing but the fleeting light of the sun's rays was evident to enlighten the air. Not wanting to wake the kids prematurely, you tiptoe your way into the kitchen. You open the fridge, take out the eggs, and get cookin'!

It wasn't long before you could hear your son, Sam, bounding down the steps of the stairway. You turned, now giving the eggs in the pan a series of rehearsed tosses and stirs, to see your baby boy dash into the kitchen.

"Morning Mom," he said, smiling.

"Good morning, baby," you replied.

Your son was a fine man. At 22, he was grown to his full maturity. He was tall, even more so than you, yourself with an earnest amount of testosterone in your feminine balls. Sam wasn't the most "iron-crazy" as other guys, so his form was nice and slender. But that didn't mean a defined tone of muscle wasn't obvious on him, especially his arms, which were also well-haired.

"Did you wake up your sister?" you ask.

"Yep. She'll be down in a few."

"I made scrambled eggs, your favorite," you say giving a grin.

"Cool."

Continuing to cook, you make idle small talk until, suddenly, you feel a cramped feeling in your large, plentiful breasts. Your nipples begin pulsing with discomfort, and you feel altogether bloated. You knew what was happening.

As a genetic curse of the hermaphroditous rex, the sexual drive of your libido was always - even since birth! - in a constant, carnal limbo of sensual release. So much was the urges of your sexual activity, that it was seen fit to prescribe a "sexual depressant" of sorts, in pill form, to properly control your personal, frenzied innuendo. And as an added side effect to said pills, the patient (you) will "remain in a continued state of mammilla lactation until ultimate, menopausal homeostasis renders the effects superannuated." In other words, you're gonna be bleeding milk for the next fifteen or so years!

Usually you'd pump your ballooned chest manually. However... You have, on occasion, given your babies a helping of the white, sudsy goodness as a refreshment with some of their meals; it's all natural, anyway.

You looked behind you. Your son was busy reading video game comics. He'd never notice....