This is normal here, right!?

But then... Something happened, something that can only be described as betrayal.

[Aster]

Yes, he has pulled away from that holy nipple, a completely barbaric act! The wave of panic and confusion washed over his tiny body, his mind a frantic mess of baby instincts and primitive urges that he was unable to comprehend or control. As much as he wished to act with his own will, his actions were not his own. His instinct was to let out a cry, to protest against this unfair separation, and to demand the return of that sweet, comforting nourishment. If there's a baby police in this new world, it should already intervene and protect his rights!

But as it turned out, it wasn't betrayal at all. His mother had simply shifted him to the other breast. 'Okay, phew,' he sighed in relief, realizing his mistake, a weight lifting from his tiny shoulders the moment his mouth connected with a nipple of his right breast and the milk flow started again.

He felt his anxiety melt away with each tiny gulp from her pale breast. His golden eyes fluttered in peace, and his tiny body relaxed. It was a true meaning of paradise. He was utterly and hopelessly addicted. He didn't want to stop. He couldn't stop. It was a feeling he had never experienced, a craving so strong and primal that it was almost overwhelming. It was a hunger, a thirst, and a need. A deep and all-consuming desire that was impossible to resist. That distant part of him that still remembered who he was, that should feel embarrassed by something like this, that remembered what he looked like or how he lived, was silenced. There was no space for that, at least for now.

His mother's nipple was a masterpiece, an actual work of art. Its shape was impeccable, perfectly contoured to fit his lips as if they were made for each other. The texture was incredibly soft, a gentle caress against his tender, slippery tongue. As he suckled, the rhythmic beat of his mother's heart pulsated beneath the delicate skin, creating an intimate connection, a comforting lullaby that filled him with peace. And the milk... oh, the milk was like nectar from the heavens.

The second breast tasted different, a subtle change that his infant's senses immediately picked up on. His mother's right breast was a bit fuller, a slight difference that wasn't easy to notice. But this little guy, now suddenly being an expert on his mommy's breasts, immediately spotted the difference. A soft moan of pleasure escaped his throat. 'How... is this so... good,' he thought, his mind filled with pure delight. His tiny hands instinctively reached out, gently touching his mommy's breasts like a kitten that moves its paws when purring.

Interestingly, the milk from the left breast tasted sweet, like a spoonful of honey, while the milk from the right breast tasted more savory and creamy. It was like eating the most delicious ice cream in the whole wide world. He didn't mind this change in flavors. It was like comparing a juicy burger to a tender steak. Or comparing a sunset on a beach to a mountain view—both beautiful but different. Both were incredible in their unique way.

The flavor danced on his taste buds, making him feel like the luckiest baby in existence. All the pain he went through back in the hospital, the loneliness, and everything else felt like a distant nightmare that he had just woken up from. After all the suffering, it was nice, for once, to just feel safe and protected. Right now, laying in her soft hands, he damn liked being a baby. 'If only... I could try both... at the same time,' he mused, his eyes shining at the thought.

He has never been a greedy person. He didn't need both burger and steak at the same time. Just one was fine for him. But when it came to his mother's breasts, it was a completely different story. He wanted to experience the pleasure of both, to drink from them and savor every drop, no matter how much he had.

As Aster happily nursed, he couldn't help but notice something strange happening somewhere to his left. His curious golden gaze shifted to the side, only to meet his sister's flushed face. She sat on her mother's lap, her tiny lips wrapped around their mother's nipple, just like his. Her cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue as she greedily sucked on it, mirroring Aster's actions.

'W-What... are you... doing!?' his mind shouted like a thunder in surprise to the unexpected sight. This was the strangest thing he had ever seen. His dear sister was also enjoying the nourishment from their mother's breast, just like him. Even though she was much older... Is this normal for elves? Were they supposed to share their mother's breasts? Both the infant part of his mind and the adult part of his mind were equally confused. As he watched her, he couldn't help but admire her technique. The way her tongue swirled around the nipple, the rhythm of her sucking... she was enjoying herself, her tiny body trembling ever so slightly with delight.

On the other hand, he knew little about the cultural differences between elves and humans. It could be very normal here. There was something natural and beautiful about seeing mother and daughter in this way, like two halves of a whole coming together. However, when his sister noticed he was staring at her, she smirked at him, her golden eyes twinkling mischievously. Aster immediately knew what this meant.

A competitor. A breastfeeding rival.

There was no doubt about it. This was a challenge, a declaration of war. He could sense the burning passion behind her golden eyes and knew there would be no holding back. She had tasted the sweet milk of her mother and understood how valuable it was, and she would stop at nothing to claim more of it. But Aster was no pushover either. He would do whatever it took to secure his share of their mommy's breasts.

In a blink of an eye, Aster's expression changed. No longer was he an innocent, ignorant newborn. He was now a fierce competitor, his eyes gleaming with determination. 'Not on my... watch...' his infant mind roared, a fire igniting within him.

He couldn't just let his dear sister steal milk, not without a fight. Aster's tiny hands pushed against his mother's breast as if he were trying to coax more milk from it. With a renewed sense of determination, he doubled his efforts, suckling even more hungrily, his tiny tongue flicking and swirling. 'This town... is too small... for both of us...' he thought in frustration as more milk slid down his tiny throat.

His sister's response was immediate. She matched his intensity, her eyes narrowing at her baby brother. The competition had begun, and neither was willing to relent nor accept defeat. Her technique, however, was impressive, and she was an experienced breastfeeder. But Aster wasn't going to give up, not without a fight.

The gulps and slurps of their battle echoed around the room as they nursed furiously. Whoever could extract the most milk from their mother's breast would be crowned the ultimate victor. It was a showdown of epic proportions, a clash of tiny titans.

Aster's face turned red from the effort; the amount of milk he consumed was overwhelming for his delicate body. As the minutes passed, the boy became increasingly tired, his tiny body exhausted from the intense competition. His eyes began to droop, the sleepiness overwhelming his little brain. He had to stop and rest but couldn't, not yet, not when his territory was at stake.

With his last bit of energy, Aster suckled even harder, his lips and mouth working tirelessly to beat his sister to victory. But it was a futile attempt. His sister was relentless, her mouth like a vacuum seal, draining their mother's breast with supernatural speed and agility. As the minutes ticked by, Aster's treacherously weak body began to betray him. Despite his desperate attempts, his tiny lips struggled to keep up with the milk flow, as it felt like fighting against the river current. Milk began escaping through the corners of his mouth... making it clear that he was losing.

And then, it was over. His strength finally gave out, and his tiny body slumped in his mother's arms, defeated. The boy felt his mother's nipple slipping from his lips. It was a cruel, sudden ending to the most blissful experience of his short life. All too soon, it was over. His little body was spent, his mind exhausted. He fought bravely, like never before in his life, but lost.

He watched with envy how the pink lips of the silver-haired girl kept working on his mother's breast, greedily gulping down every drop of milk. It was a bitter defeat. He had given his all, but it wasn't enough. He was bested by his dear sister, a warrior far superior to him.

"She may have won... today's battle," Aster thought as his golden eyes fluttered in exhaustion, "but the war... isn't over yet." There would be more opportunities and more battles to fight. He would train, grow stronger, and not yield until he had claimed his rightful place as the sole owner of their mother's boobies. One day, he will conquer both breasts and have them all to himself.

Lying there, a contented smile gracing his face, a small trickle of milk escaped from the corner of Aster's mouth, followed by a tiny burp. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, a sound of pure joy escaping his tiny lips. It was truly an experience to remember. And it was more than just a competition for milk, no. It tested his determination, resilience, and ability to adapt. His young, milk-addicted mind already thought of new strategies and techniques he could use next time to beat his older sister.

He will improve, get better, and hone his skills. He would apply the principles of the scientific method, devoting his life to finding the best technique for suckling his mommy's perfect breasts. Experiment, observe, analyze, and leave no nipple unsuckled in his pursuit of perfection. He was determined to master this art, and when he did, the world wouldn't be the same anymore...

A tiny, barely noticeable thought ran through his exhausted mind that maybe, just maybe, these infant instincts might have something to do with these strange thoughts. Devoting life to find a perfect way to suckle on his mother's breasts? Or a milk battle with his sister? How silly. But it was too tiresome to analyze it any further, and the thought quickly disappeared back into the depths of his subconsciousness.

'Thank you... Mom, sis,' he whispered within the depths of his thoughts the moment before drifting off to sleep. The dreams of his mother's jiggling breasts filled his young mind.