All You Need by RemyAttica

I woke to the sensation of the bed shifting. Groggy eyelids peeled back only to squint, as I detected daylight washing into the room, through the off-white curtains to my far right. I started to roll away from them, and nearly tumbled off the bed. An arm caught my chest and pulled me back. I rested, supine, and my head turned to the right, just as a sector of the sunlight was blocked.

Mom loomed over me, sitting up, her left arm extended, elbow locked, and hand planted in the mattress beside my pillow. Her black hair was a little messy, cascading past her face and spilling over both shoulders. She wore a black shirt with a colorful Teletubbies design on the chest.

The chest.

I gulped.

"Sorry to wake you, sleepy-head," she smiled, her voice like honey.

I heard the words and was soothed by her tone but suddenly realized that my gaze was lingering on her shirt. When I picked my eyes up to hers, green gently touched by the natural lighting, I witnessed her smile bloom into a giggle.

She then looked down, and slightly tugged on the bottom hem of her shirt. This briefly tautened the black fabric over her enormous bust, though she didn't hold it there for very long. She released it, and the shirt returned to normal—somewhere between too loose and just the right fit.

Although in my mind, "just the right fit"—for her—equated to "too damn small."

"You like Mommy's shirt, sweetie?" She asked, lifting her eyes back to mine.

I stopped shying from complimenting her—suggestively—about a week ago. But I'd just woken up, and I slept without underwear, so I was very off-guard.

"Um…y-yes, but…"

"Aw, but what, honey?" She pouted and scooted closer to me, dropping to her left elbow. I felt the weight, the sheer mass, of her giant breasts shift onto my chest.

Hard as I was beneath the duvet, it was thick enough to conceal my erection. I dared not even glance in that direction, but I knew from my peripheral vision that it was merely a small mound, which could be dismissed as one of many clumps in the navy duvet.

"I mean, it's the Teletubbies. Do you like the Teletubbies?"

She bared her beautiful teeth in the next laugh.

"No, not really," she said. And then shrugged. She peered down at me, maybe a foot above my face. She pushed her hair back over ears and shoulders. "I just thought it was kinda cute."

"There's nothing kinda cute about you, Mommy," I said, my heart racing.

"What do you mean?" She asked, seeming offended.

"You're, like, so beautiful."

She suddenly pursed her lips and raised her shoulders. Then she descended upon me, breasts mushing against my chest, as she hugged me. Her lips lingered on my forehead, a three-second peck we'll call it, and then she withdrew. She remained resting on her left hip, snuggled close to me.

"Mommy's little sweetheart," she said.

"But I guess you wearing a Teletubbies shirt isn't completely crazy," I said, after clearing my throat.

"Why's that?" She raised an eyebrow, while a faint smile remained. Hey, she was my Mom, afterall. She could detect when I was about to say something sarcastic, or try to be funny.

"Cuz," I said, and used my left hand to poke her right breast, my forefinger indenting the underlying flesh, likely clad in a bra given its position. "You're so tubby."

She gasped, and for a split-second I feared punishment, which would go against everything she had raised me to believe. This moment was fleeting, and was pursued by a cackle of sorts, but a lovely one.

"You're so funny," she ultimately said.

In hindsight, I wondered if I could've gotten away with a squeeze.

"So, why'd you wake me up, Miss Tubby?" I asked, and reached out again to "honk" her left breast this time, giving it a brief squeeze. Each of her breasts dwarfed one of my head, let alone my hand. But I still managed to take a fleeting handful.

This time, no gasp, not even a playful scoff, just a giggle.

"Well, I was thinking, it's such a lovely day out—" the past few had been downtrodden by rain and cloudiness "—we should go for a walk."

"Sure, I'd love that."

"Yay," she said, clapping hands. Always so lively, this one. She started to withdraw but paused, and posed a question I already anticipated. Asked almost every time we prepared to head out, unless I took the initiative to make a suggestion first. "What should Mommy wear?"

My boner always wanted to answer something skimpy, but my brain usually gambled with the middle-ground.

"Um…a dress, maybe? Or a skirt? Something befitting of summer."

"That sounds nice, darling. Even though it's only spring."

In this region, that didn't really matter. It was only remotely cold from late November to early February. And it was currently April.

"Well, with you around it's always like summer," I said, cheesily.

"Aww," she said, and kissed me again, this time the bulb of my nose. Lip pecks weren't rare, but typically saved for when she was bidding me goodnight, or leaving to do errands.

As she pulled away, though, more of that encouraged-honesty pushed through.

"Oh, and something white!" I blurted. I shrugged. "You just look marvelous in white."

"Aw, thanks, honey. I don't think I have any white dresses, or even skirts, but I'll find something."

"You should," I said. "I mean, you should have some."

"Yeah? Okay, sweetie, I'll add 'em to my list."

I gulped. "And can…can I make another s-suggestion?"

She could sense I was being timid. She smiled. "Of course, darling. Anytime, anything."

"More, like…show…show more skin, maybe?"

"You think?" She asked, looking down.

"It's just," I shrugged. "I-I know you have such b-beautiful skin, and—"

"Gosh, sweetie, aren't you a dear?" She cupped my chin and smiled. Then she dismounted the bed, on her side, and walked around the foot of it. I watched her, too. Her breasts bounced with each step, ruffling the shirt. She circled around to my side and leaned closer to my face. "I hope you didn't mind me waking you. It's almost noon, but you know you can sleep as long as you want, sweetie."

"I know, Mommy, but I don't mind. The more time I spend with you, the happier I am."

"Really?" She pouted, but in a heartwarming way.

I sat up in bed, intentionally disturbing the duvet so that it wouldn't be flat around my lap. I could feel the pre-cum dribble down the underside of my cock.

I was wearing a loose T-shirt above, which concealed my waist and below that, the covers did their job.

"Of course," I said, my head turned toward her. She smiled and stepped forward. A soft kiss on my lips and she withdrew a second later, smiling gently. Then I uttered the four magic words, which always seemed to disarm her. Melt her. "I love you, Mommy."

"Oh, pumpkin. Mommy loves you, too."

She started to turn, but paused at the creak of my voice.

"I…I'm sorry for calling you fat earlier. I mean…t-tubby."

She giggled. "Don't be, sweetie. It was so cute. Besides, you can call Mommy whatever you want."

"Really?" My eyes lit up slightly, involuntarily even.

"Hehe. Of course, cutie."

"Okay, Tubby," I said, and reached out again. To squeeze one of her breasts once more, but she was barely out of reach. I slipped right out of bed.

And the duvet didn't follow me.

"Oh, no!" I practically whimpered, immediately mortified.

Mom tried to catch me, although it was a very low-to-the-floor bed. I managed to land gracefully, more or less, but awkwardly.

"Oh, sweetie!" She gasped, seeing my small boner bounce free. A bead of pre-cum dangled from a thin, translucent, gooey string.

"I-I'm so sorry, Mommy!" I stood, frozen, not retreating to the covers for some reason. Perhaps because I didn't read any distress or anger in Mom's face. Honestly, I don't think I ever have.

Before she could say anything else—and she started to, having only glanced down briefly—I unearthed an excuse that was, actually, a truth.

"It's because of you," I said, panting. "Y-You're just so pretty, Mommy, a-and I woke up and saw you, and, you…you're even prettier than in my dreams!"

Oops. That last part slipped out.

"You were dreaming of Mommy?" She gasped, and then walked toward me, hands on her upper chest. "That's so adorable."

Those three words, which she loved to speak and I loved to hear, moved through me like morphine.

She stopped at my left, essentially still in front of me, peering down. I was only a few inches shorter than she was.

"What was the dream about, sweetie?" She asked, cupping my face with her left hand.

"C-Cuddling you. Telling you how much I…how much I love you."

"Aww, really? You know Mommy loves hearing that."

"Well it's true," I said, brow furrowed. I suddenly faced her, and put both of my hands on both of her breasts. I squeezed them as I peered up at her, and felt my cock slide up her tummy. She wasn't necessarily a "BBW"; she had a little indent to her waist, but nothing extraordinary. Still, there was a very slight pudge to her absurdly silken stomach, especially soft to my hypersensitive glans, let alone beneath it.

Below this, she currently wore a pair of plaid PJ pants.

"I do, Mommy," I said, half a breath after my last statement. "I love you so much!"

I squeezed her breasts even harder as I hit that "so."

"Oh, honey." She said, her hands rising to cup my face, her outer elbows against the inner crooks of mine. "You melt my heart every time you say that. Will you tell me more about your dream?"

"We were just cuddling. I swear. But you were so cozy. I told you how…how much I…"

I'd started thrusting against her stomach, my cock repeatedly withdrawing a touch only to glide up her tummy again. Each time, my glans struck her navel, only to pop past it. A very subtle sensation, albeit not trivial.

"Tell Mommy everything, sweetie."

"How much I love your giant jugs!" I blurted, and squeezed them harder, trying to lift them higher. The bra they were contained in prevented this.

Mom giggled for several seconds.

"You like Mommy's boobies? Gosh, you're so cute."

"Not like, Mommy, love. I love them so much, T-T-Tubby!"

"Hehe. I'm so happy you do, darling."

"Y-You are?" I furrowed my brow, looking up at her.

"Of course. And I adore hearing it. Remember, your opinion is second to none, sweetie." She took my hand. "Come here."

She led me back to the bed, which was basically just turning me around. I watched her climb back onto it, only to crawl toward the edge, her knees teetering, but secure. Given the low profile of the bed, with her leaning forward, her chest was just about level with my—

I felt my cock brush one of her clothed breasts. Pre-cum immediately darkened the already black fabric in that spot.

My eyes peered back up at her, which was essentially just looking forward at this level. She pushed her hair back behind both ears, smiling, and then reached down, to the bottom of her shirt.

"I'm all you need, pumpkin," she said, and lifted her shirt. It was a slight struggle, rolling it up as far as she could, thus exposing her drooping breasts, barely contained in a thin black bra. Her gaze returned to mine. "I mean it. Don't let your dreams be fiction. I want to make my baby boy happy."

I felt as if the breath were knocked from my lungs.

Still, I staggered forward, and my hands fondled her breasts from the sides, pushing them together. Simultaneously, I swung my hips forward, and my comparably small cock dove between them. The snug crevice was heavenly—

It was everything I'd dreamt it would be.

"You're my everything," I murmured, looking down. She kissed my forehead, her hands on my shoulders. I peered up at her and my voice shook a little, but my conviction wasn't weak. "Be my everything, Mommy!"

"Oh, honey. I am. Anything you need."

I Eskimo-kissed her. She giggled.

"I love you so fucking much, Tubby Mommy."

"I love you, too, sweetie-pie."

"And I love your giant milkers!" I blurted, pouting.

"Hehe, I'm so happy you do."

"I love my own Mommy's huge boobs!" I panted, pre-cum lubricating the welcomed violation of her suspended cleavage.

"Never be shy with Mommy again, cutie," she said softly.

"I won't! B-But only if you…if y-you don't mind milking me!"

She giggled. "Isn't that what Mommies are for?"

"Milk my balls, Mommy!" I gasped. "G-Gimme a kiss, I-I love you so much!"

"Aww…" She leaned forward and planted a long, moist kiss not on my forehead, brow, or nose, but on my lips. "Here, darling, Mommy's got 'em."

She lowered her hands to replace mine, squeezing them together as I fucked her breasts, while our foreheads touched. My eyes occasionally shied from hers. Whenever they did, down they peered, witnessing the miracle below.

Her giant breasts dwarfed my comparably tiny cock. With each thrust it vanished between them.

Finally I lifted my gaze, and let myself feel lost in her green eyes, so close and so gentle. She seemed to have never let them drift from my face.

Then my hands followed, rising to cup her cheeks, thumbs caressing. My lips began to mumble wet words. I even drooled a little. I could feel the quivering sensation snake through my thighs and balls. Heralding an unprecedented climax.

"I'm gonna, I, I, I'm gonna…M-Mommy, I'm—"

"You're so adorable. Go ahead, sweetie. You can say it."

"I'm gonna cum, Mommy…I…I wanna cum in your boobs so bad."

"That's what I'm here for, my baby boy. To love you. Remember? Mommy's all you need."

"I need to cum, Mommy! Make me nut!"

"Anything for you, sweetheart. Never hold back. Not even an itsy bit. Nut for Mommy."

My arms wrapped around her neck and I felt my face mush into hers, particularly my brow against her mouth, as I peered down the second I came. Like an iota of my soul escaping the tip of my cock, I blew an immense and seemingly ceaseless load between her heavy breasts.

Her hands continued to hold them together, even after I came. A solid five seconds passed, and she kept them in place, assuring the embrace of my cock was snug. Even as it softened, eventually retreating from her suspended cleavage.

Given how far she was leaning forward, hovering above the edge of the bed, I realized that the contact of our heads was the only thing keeping her up.

My hands cradled her face and I kissed her lips, messily. First a soft peck, like we were used to, except longer. And then my breath shuddered and I licked her from chin to nose.

"God, you're so beautiful," I breathed.

"My little sweetheart."

"Can you…" With the shrinking of my cock, and the diminishment of my adrenaline, I also felt my confidence start to deteriorate.

Her hands continued to huddle her breasts as she reeled back to sit on her heels, maybe an inch taller than me like that. I glimpsed rivulets of cum slowly drip down her stomach from below the bra.

Then I realized she was shaking her head, albeit with a small smile on her face.

"It's adorable that you ask, for anything, really," she said. "But please, honey. Let Mommy take care of you. In every way. So don't ask. Tell."

"Like…boss you around?" I chuckled awkwardly.

She tittered. "Sure, cutie. It's an honor to serve my baby boy."

All of those words melted together and injected me with a newfound confidence, among other things. Despite the satisfied emptiness in my balls, I could already feel my insatiable libido stirring the ingredients…

"Roll over, on your back. L-Let your head dangle off the edge of your bed. Hair down."

"Oh, sounds interesting."

"I don't want you to get a headache, so I'll hurry."

"Take your time, sweetheart." She said this a split-second before getting into position, much more fluidly than I expected, as she was notorious between us for being quite a lovely klutz. She performed all of this while keeping her breasts together. Once her hair draped down to the floor, her chin level with my knees, she spoke: "How's this?"

"Perfect, if you just…" I gulped, in awe at myself for suggesting this. "Open your mouth."

"Aw, you want Mommy to clean you off, sweetie?"

A surge of perverse energy coursed through me.

"God, yes, Mommy. Take care of me, Tubby!" My hands briskly brushed hers away, and I seized her breasts as I stepped forward, knees bending necessarily. First I just slapped her inverted face with my damp cock, trying to align with her mouth, supposing it was open.

I heard her giggle, through ajar lips.

And then, with her hands free, I felt them—guide my soft cock into her mouth. At first I was so enrapt with the sensation, let alone the sheer miracle of what was happening, that I ignored her attempt to actually methodically clean me, and just face-fucked her with my limp cock. I had close to nothing to work with in this state, so I instead focused on the sensation of slapping her upturned nose with my slack, damp balls.

Meanwhile, my hands not only squeezed her breasts from the outside of her black bra—only my thumbs dug into the exposed flesh—but jiggled them too, witnessing my "work" slosh along her sternum.

"I-I'm sorry, Mommy, I just…God, you're so perfect."

Finally I stopped thrusting and just squatted inertly, although at that point my thighs had begun to grow sore.

What a morning.

I felt her remove my soft cock from her mouth, solely so she could respond.

"Never apologize to me, darling. You speak and act as you feel, Mommy will never judge you for it."

"Okay, Tubby." I slapped and squeezed her right breast with my right hand. She chuckled below me. "If you say so…now…clean me!"

"Happily," she said, and performed with flying colors.

About ten seconds later—her tongue working magic to say the least—and she removed me from her mouth again.

"All done, hon. Starting to feel a little dizzy. But I think I finished."

"I trust you, Mommy. Here." I waddled backward, and then helped her head up. She hoisted herself into a sitting position, ultimately sweeping her legs over the side and standing up. Her breasts jiggled in the bra and then her shirt came loose just enough to conceal most of them. I immediately grabbed the shirt and tugged it down, over her buxom chest, only to use it to mop up my cum from her stomach, and then I tucked it under the sides of her bra band, just enough to form a makeshift halter-top.

"Oh, hehe, thanks, dear."

"Now it's a nice shirt," I said, and squeezed, hard, her left breast with my right hand, thumb tucked under and indenting the underlying meat, even with the bra as an additional barrier.

"You're so cute," she smiled. "Should I go get washed up and dressed, now? You still want to go for a walk?"

"I do, but first, I'm starving."

"Oh, of course. Stupid me. I'm so sorry, darling."

"No, you're not stupid. Even if you are tubby like Dumbo." I poked her right breast with my left forefinger. She smirked. And then I fondled both breasts, both hands.

"Cutie-pie," she said, pursing both lips.

"God, I love you, Mommy."

"Hehe. I love you, too."

"Go on, get cleaned-up and dressed first," I finally withdrew. "Something else, though, not what we go for a walk in."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Well, I just think…what if I, like…cum again, before we leave? I don't want to ruin your walking outfit."

"Aww, so thoughtful," she cupped my cheek.

"So you will? Wear something comfy. Something you don't mind me nutting on."

Another giggle. She headed for the door, pausing on the threshold and turning to look back at me. Her profile view was mouthwatering. Even in the pajama pants one could tell she had a nice round butt, too. And even under the shirt, though now tautly wrapping her bosom, it was beyond evident that she was top-heavy.

"You can nut on Mommy anytime, anywhere, sweetie," she said, with such casualness that I almost fainted. She saw my dumbstruck expression and it made her giggle again. "I love you, darling."

"I love you, too," I said, my voice thin. I watched her smile sustain as she exited the room, and strode down the hall. I backpedaled until I fell onto my bed, catching my breath and tracking my pulse. One word oozed out of my lips in a whisper. "Mommy." 

------X------ 

Chapter Text

I took my time before heading downstairs. A few minutes passed while I was zoning out, before I hoisted myself up and properly rinsed my genitals off. Then I patted dry and hesitated briefly with trousers. I chose to forego them and keep just the shirt on, plus ankle socks, so long as I was home. Given all that had transpired, I couldn't imagine that would be an issue.

Some fifteen minutes after Mom left my room, I traipsed downstairs. She was in the open-floor kitchen, humming and already cooking up something that smelled delish.

On approach, the closer I got the more obvious the meal was.

Scrambled eggs and sausage links.

I spotted the syrup bottle on the counter, and a glass of milk with two ice cubes clinking the glass. She must have recently poured it, and by the smell of things I assumed she was almost finished.

Her back was to me, tending to the stove, so even as I rounded the island counter behind her left shoulder, she was unaware of my presence.

I eyed her up, delighted in her change of attire.

I would say particularly her bottoms, as the casual-fit pajama shorts wedged between her cheeks was leagues better than the plaid pants earlier, but…well…

She wasn't really wearing a shirt. Instead, a sports bra, if it could be called that. Mom's breasts were, according to my snooping this past week, 34HH. I liked to think the HH stood for "holy hell," or "heavenly huge." At any rate, they were far too big to be contained by whatever "sports bra" she was currently wearing. It was a narrow-strapped gray piece with laughably poor—more like super-duper—coverage, especially on the sides. Her side-boob was so phenomenal, I could see both jugs from behind! Especially when she set her spatula down to lift her arms and access a cabinet above her. They swayed a touch, and even though I couldn't clearly see the front—only faintly, via a reflection in the stove's clock panel—I could tell it was low-cut, too.

The matching gray shorts appeared of a thin and mega soft material I was familiar with, because I'd masturbated with them before. Her shorts, that is. How they always wedged between her cheeks, because the fabric was so lightweight and soft…

They weren't tremendously short, as neither of her cheeks were visible, but that could be amended.

Still, she had such a great, round butt and nice, thick thighs that any amount of exposure on her lower body was appreciated.

Her black hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, as per her cooking etiquette. Witnessing her bare shoulders in such a thin-strapped top, however, made me wish she wore her hair up more often.

Why not ask? Better yet—tell Miss Tubby.

I embraced this pinch of authoritative confidence and strode forward, startling her with a slap of her butt, particularly her left cheek with my right hand. She yelped and leapt in her socks, only to put a hand on her chest and catch her breath, smiling.

"Gee-wiz," I said, biting my tongue to keep from apologizing. "Sensitive much?"

She laughed lightly, and kissed my temple. "You startled me is all."

I tugged on her shorts, the bottom hem floating above her left cheek, thus wedging it up her crack. She yelped again, softly, just before turning the stove burners off. Despite the intoxicating aroma of fresh scrambled eggs and sausage, I was too captivated by the sensation of her silky butt cheek against my knuckles.

My erection wobbled left then right when I turned to face her, and with one step closer, it rode up her left hip, sliding under her shorts.

"How are you so soft, Mommy?" I asked, my right hand departing from her butt to touch the small of her back, thus brushing the high-waisted band of her shorts. Meanwhile I nuzzled and kissed her left shoulder, my eyes tracing her epic cleavage, and how her giant breasts nearly spilled from the top.

Without turning her body, she simply pivoted her head and kissed my hairline.

"I keep soft, sweetie. For you."

My brow furrowed, face lifting. I thrusted a touch, up her left hip, under the shorts. My hand dropped to squeeze her right butt cheek, outside of the fabric.

"For me, Mommy?" I muttered.

"Always for you, baby boy."

"Oh, Mommy," I whimpered, and thrusted again. I dropped my face to mush it against her shoulder, lips smearing saliva across her strap, and then bicep. My right hand abruptly tugged on the right side of her shorts, completing the wedgie and exposing that cheek, too.

Instead of yelping this time, she giggled.

"Gosh, you're so cute," she said. "And such a sweetheart."

"Even though I call you Tubby, Mommy?" My hand touched her tummy. I for some reason abstained from fondling her breasts, despite their outrageous temptation. "Or Dumbo?"

She giggled. "Absolutely. I love you no matter what, darling."

"I don't want my breakfast to get cold. You're the best for taking care of me."

"Always, sweetie. Want to sit down, now?"

"Sure. I just…I don't want to take my hands off you."

"Aww." She then turned, and my hands slid off of her. My cock shifted free, too, only to find a new home between her thigh thighs, snuggled against her thinly clothed pussy. It was hard to tell if she was even wearing any undies beneath the shorts; if anything, a G-string.

She pulled my face into her chest, under her chin.

"We can wait, if you'd like. It'll stay warm in the pans."

My hands returned to her butt, this time both palms smacking her now-exposed cheeks, before fingers sank in. Simultaneously, I thrusted between her thinly clothed thighs.

"Mommy," I murmured, drooling into her breasts.

"Yes, sweetie?"

A long pause. "You…You make me speechless."

"And you make my heart melt, pumpkin."

"Will you…I…I know I'm not supposed to ask, but…what if what I want is…is too much?"

"What?" She lifted my face with both hands, cradling my cheeks, and withdrawing hers so our gazes could connect. "Aren't I your everything? Let me be that. Tell me what you need from Mommy."

I stammered past the D. "Drink me? I…I wanna nut in your b-big, pretty mouth."

I immediately kissed her mouth, a lazy smooch.

"You're always so kind to me, dear," she said, and before I knew it had dropped to her knees. Peering up at me, her green eyes somehow like lassos not only to my heart but my libido too. "How do you want Mommy to take care of you?"

"Tilt your head back a-and purse your lips. Don't…" I gulped and solidified my stance, from posture to voice and even stare. "Don't you dare take those beautiful eyes off of me, Mommy."

"Never, sweetheart," she smiled, and then complied.

I squatted and squeezed the base of my cock, before slapping the hypersensitive underside of my glans against her lips.

"Goodness, Mommy," I gasped.

She struggled not to giggle.

"Now…open up and stick your tongue out!"

She did. I withdrew my hips, squatted an inch or two lower, and then slapped her extended tongue with my oozing cock.

"F-Fuck! Mommy, you're…you're gonna make me nut again!"

A warped smile around her open mouth. Her eyes seemed to light up, still locked onto me. Sending shivers through my body.

"I'm gonna shoot my semen into your mouth, Mommy! Are you ready!? Nod, Dumbo!"

She nodded, giggling through her open mouth.

"S-Say it! Say you want my—"

"Hehe," she bared her teeth for that one, and then added, smiling all the while: "I want my baby boy's loving sperm in my tummy!"

"Mommy!" I dragged out the Y in a strange, eye-fluttering squeal as I lurched forward, shoving my five-inch erection into her mouth and holding her head while my balls emptied themselves into Mom's throat. My socked toes curled against the tile and my hips thrusted two more times, balls against her chin, hands keeping her head in place—

Eventually I looked down to realize that, all the while, she never lifted her hands from…her lower back. They were kept there, not clasped together, not gripping the other wrist, but just idling, adjacent, utterly calm.

She just took it. Accepted it.

Welcomed it.

Finally I withdrew and she gasped a wet breath, my cum and her saliva dribbling down her chin, and onto her breasts. She peered up at me, swallowed, and smiled big, her dimples a savory sight. A few tears had escaped the corners of her eyes.

"How was that, pumpkin?"

I stammered on "I" for what felt like a millennia. Finally she just giggled and got to her feet.

"My adorable sweetheart. Go sit down, okay? Here's a washcloth." She handed it to me, damp, and I staggered off like a zombie toward the dinner table on the other side of the island counter.

I heard the sink run behind me, but was too busy catching my breath, among other things. Eventually I used the washcloth on my junk, and my balls were sore in the best way.

Two minutes later, Mom loomed over my right shoulder, serving me a plate with the scrambled eggs and sausage links on it. She set the syrup container on the table, and then fetched my milk. One of the cubes had almost entirely melted.

"All done?" She asked, ever so politely, placing a hand on the washcloth in my lap.

I gulped and nodded.

She took it. "I don't want you to think you did anything wrong just now. You were as cute as ever, and Mommy loves you so much. Okay, pudding?"

I nodded. "I love you, too, Mommy."

"I never get tired of hearing it," she tittered.

I noticed the pre-cum and saliva on her chest, and even some of it had moseyed between her breasts. It appeared she had cleaned her face and mouth, though.

Which meant she had opted to leave the rest…

"Why didn't you clean up your boobs, too?" I dared ask.

"Oh, well…I thought, I didn't want to seem like I was just washing you away. I love you so much, and taking care of you makes me happy, too. Maybe not in the same way it does you, but it truly means the world to Mommy. So I thought I'd keep you with me for a little while. Let you soak in. Is that okay, honey?"

"It's amazing," I eventually said, struggling to put such measly syllables together, coherently.

Her smile both warmed my heart and put me under a spell. I gulped and a seemingly harmless thought escaped my lips.

"Thank you, Mommy."

"For what, my dear?"

"For letting me dump nut in your throat," I said with the most sober face ever.

"Hehe. Anytime, cutie." She touched my face in an endearing manner, and then turned away.

I was quicker to process this than even I expected. Already I was embracing my blessings in stride.

"Did you already have breakfast?" I asked, beginning to fork warm scrambled eggs into my mouth.

"I did, a couple hours ago."

"Let me know when you're hungry. Don't wait on me."

"Okay, sweetie. Thank you."

"For now, why don't you go brush your teeth? But don't change anything. And keep your boobies messy."

She laughed on her way across the living room, toward the stairs.

"Okay, dear. See you soon."

"Soon isn't quick enough," I said, through a mouthful, and she seemed to chuckle her whole way up the stairs, enormous breasts bouncing so cumbersomely it was a miracle they didn't spill out.

 ------X------ 

Despite the last thing I said, she didn't come back downstairs for close to another ten minutes. By which time I'd shoveled my food down and was killing the milk. She hurried approached, apologizing for the wait. She said she had to use the restroom after brushing her teeth.

"Don't apologize, Mommy," I insisted. "Just sit down. Take a break."

"No, honey, here—let me take your dishes."

She really did want to "serve" me.

I sat back, and finished the milk. "Okay. Take them and wash them, too."

I glanced at the stovetop clock.

"You have two minutes to get your fat butt back here, and in that chair. Starting…now!"

"Oops!" She began to rush, briefly wearing a smile.

These little races and challenges were exchanged between us over the last few years. They were always playful, but of course never under these circumstances. In the past, a punishment was usually something like five sit-ups or push-ups, or something even sillier.

After the first thirty seconds, which I mentally counted, I took a deep breath and stood up. I circled the island counter and sized her up. She lowered the dishwasher.

"No cheating, Tubby!"

"Oh, sorry!" She said, and shut it.

I liked that her shorts were still wedged. That she had to use the bathroom meant that she deliberately returned her shorts to how I'd fashioned them earlier.

I approached her and grabbed my stiffening cock, slapping her left cheek with it. Once fully erect, I let go and let my hips direct it, prodding her butt cheek.

She finished washing the dishes and turned to face me.

"Time?"

I glanced at the stovetop clock, and lied about the seconds-count in my head, as I'd lost in lieu of…other priorities.

"Minute and a half. Thirty seconds, better hurry, Dumbo." I lightly slapped her left breast, particularly her protruding side-boob.

"But I'm done, sweetie."

"Dry, too, silly goose." I squeezed the fatty side boob. Fuck, it was so soft.

"Oh, I didn't know…" She turned away and rushed to dry the dishes. My plate, fork, and glass.

I shook my head and returned to the kitchen table.

"Done!"

I sighed. "Put 'em away. Gee-wiz, Mommy."

"Oh, dang it!" She proceeded.

"Time! Leave 'em be. Come here."

"I didn't realize—" She started, on her approach.

"Don't be a sore loser, Tub—" I barely got to the first 'b,' phonetically, as I was distracted by the casual bounce of her breasts as she plodded toward me, pouting.

She then sat in my chair, hands in her lap, atop her bare thighs, and peered up at me.

"I'm not, sweetie." She smiled a little. "I love our little games. You make me feel so young."

"Young and gorgeous," I said, petting her face. Her smile broadened.

"What's my punishment, darling?"

"Well, we normally do sit-ups or push-ups, so…I'll give you the choice. Five of them."

"Okay, um…" Mom wasn't exactly fit, in fact, she wasn't really fit at all, but I also wouldn't say she was out of shape. She and I went on hikes and little adventures all the time, but we were also guilty of being activists of laziness. Finally she shrugged and said: "Sit-ups, I guess."

I nodded. "Fetch your yoga mat. Is it out on the patio?"

"No, I have it right over here," she said, and walked into the living room, onto the area rug covering the open space. She reached beside the credenza upon which a 65-inch QLED stood. I watched her pull the rolled-up blue mat out, and when she stooped her breasts lolled forward.

I gulped and resisted touching myself.

Why bother when I have her for that now? A dream come true.

As she had insisted.

"Right here, honey?" She asked.

I nodded. She knelt and unrolled the yoga mat, then sat on it and leaned back, resting supine. Her breasts leveled naturally, spilling to the sides. Almost out. So much skin exposed, yet her nipples, and even areolas, miraculously remained behind the gray fabric.

"Oops," she said, under her breath, and gathered them with her biceps, already preparing to perform her first sit-up.

I knelt to her left, my erection throbbing several inches above her lower stomach. The gray shorts covered this area.

"You don't need me to hold your ankles, do you?" I asked.

"I think I'll be good," she smiled.

"Then how's this? Because I love you so much, and because I wasn't specific enough about drying and putting the dishes away, too, I'll go light on your punishment. Still, five sit-ups…but I'll kiss and hug you each time you come up. You just hold until I say you can go back down. Okay, Mommy?"

"That sounds lovely, sweetheart," she smiled.

"Okay, up you go."

Clutching her shoulders, both arms crossed and her elbows resting on top of her breasts, she hoisted herself up to her knees. Her left side-boob brushed my cock in passing, and I immediately inched forward, driving it into a crevice of flesh between breast and armpit. Quite possibly the softest, snuggest spot I've ever put my cock.

In that same moment I pressed my face against her left cheek, kissed it, and let my hips give a little thrust.

"H-Hold," I breathed.

I felt her smile dimple her cheek under my lips.

"Okay, back down," I said, my voice thin.

She lowered herself, copious side-boob knocking my cock in its wake. It was left bobbing on its own and a fresh glob of pre-cum beaded at the tip.

"Up for two," I said, and she rose again. This time I only thrusted into her side-boob itself, indenting the supple flesh. I gnawed my lip and bowed to nuzzle her chest. I heard her titter quietly. I kissed her skin and then whispered: "Back down."

We repeated this once more, but for four I returned to her side-boob and armpit crevice, my pre-cum making the passage even more titillating. As I did this, and thrusted, my left hand guided her face toward mine. I kissed her lips and my brow furrowed.

"You make me…s-so happy…Mommykins," I said.

"Aww…" I witnessed the absolute endearment on her face. I hadn't called her that since I was real little. Saying it now was an expression of how vulnerable I felt, and how loved I was.

A couple of seconds later, she addressed the first part of what I said.

"But I'm not even doing anything, honey."

I thrusted again and gnawed my lip. When I let it go, I drooled a little onto her shoulder. I felt it dribble down, onto her side-boob, and around my breast-embraced cock.

"That's my point," I said, shyly looking her in those gorgeous green eyes. "Even when you don't try, I ache for you. And when you do try, I, I can't get enough."

A bigger smile on her face. "That's absolutely the sweetest thing. But you know, I don't want my baby boy to ache…please, don't ever hesitate. Mommy's here for you, sweetie-pie."

"G-Go back down, then come up for five," I said.

She complied, and when she rose for her fifth sit-up, she huddled her knees. I prodded her spilling side-boob with my cock, indenting impossibly soft flesh before returning to the crevice between it and her armpit. I dipped my hips to angle my thrusts, and achieve a slightly different sensation.

"I'm in love with your giant jugs, Mommy," I whimpered.

She giggled. "I can see that. It's so cute. And Mommy's so grateful."

"I'm even more grateful! I'd love you no matter what, and you're so freaking pretty, and I love your butt and legs, too, b-but these boobies!" I was thrusting fervently. "They were made to drain my balls, Mommy!"

"Hehe. They sure were, pumpkin."

"Oh my…" I began stuttering on 'g' but eventually said: "G-Go back down, Mommy! H-Hands behind your head, prop it up!"

"Sure, silly," she said, and reclined again onto the mat. I swung my left leg over her abdomen and scooted up before widening my knees until I straddled her chest. I pressed her breasts together, glimpsing an areola in the process, yet somehow keeping them contained, and began thrusting between them. I missed the base of her cleavage first, instead driving my saturated cock into a mound of silky under-boob. I let my momentum continue, indenting the flesh so that it essentially bloomed around my glans.

"Fuck, Mommy," I gasped. "So big and fat and soft…"

"Soft for my baby boy," she smiled.

I looked up and saw that she had propped her head over both hands, elbows out.

I took a breath and adjusted my "aim," redirecting my cock into the envelopment of her breasts, my hands seizing both to keep them as much together as feasible.

My thrusts commended, as did the vanishing of my cock.

"S-Spit, Mommy. Spit onto your big, fat boobs!"

She chuckled before hocking one directly at her cleavage. I eventually felt her saliva follow her sternum and meet with my glans as I fucked her breasts. Naturally, I didn't come anywhere near the peak of her cleavage. But how I hold them, I made sure there was a gap.

For what was to come…

Pun intended.

"Does it feel nice, dear?"

"That's an understatement!"

"Hehe. I'm so happy. Can Mommy do anything else to make it better for you, sweetie?"

"When I say close your eyes, close 'em!"

"Are you gonna nut on Mommy's face, silly boy?"

Those words. Oof.

"You bet I am, Mommy!" I said, shrilly.

"So thoughtful of you, having me shut my eyes."

"It's the only time I'd ever ask that! I love your eyes so much!"

"Aww…thank you, sweetie."

"I'm cumming, Mommy! I'm gonna p-plaster your pretty face with my h-hot cum!"

She started to say something but I suddenly released her breasts and practically fell forward, no longer wishing to risk losing any of my load to her chest or neck, instead hands-free ejaculating onto her face. The first and biggest wad of cum struck her right between the eyes, glancing up her forehead in a broad white streak. The rest made landfall on both cheeks—yeah, I twisted my hips a touch—and then, gloriously, her mouth.

And Mom smiled the entire time, just a big, ear-to-ear, dimpled-cheek smile. She kept her lips shut, though, and her eyes had closed on smart impulse the second I let go of her breasts.

After I had emptied myself, I resisted touching my cock and instead just used my hips to brush the cum across her face with my glans, particularly her lips.

"Open 'em, Mommy. Look at your…your baby boy." I gulped, brow furrowed. She opened her eyes, and her smile remained; in fact, it widened to include her teeth, too. My voice ensued, gentle and vulnerable. "Tell me, do you still love me, Mommykins?"

"More than ever, sweetheart." She let her head rest on the yoga mat and reached up, toward me. Not my cock, but me. I planted my hands down on either side of her head, and she caressed my face with one hand. Her thumb touched my lips and I touched it before pulling it into my mouth and sucking on it. Her smile remained, her gorgeous face glazed with so much cum. "My little cutie-pie."

I could feel my softened cock straddle her breasts, my balls dunked in a mix of pre-cum and her own saliva.

"Do you still want to go for that walk?" I asked, removing her thumb from my mouth and kissing her knuckles.

"If you do, sweetie. Then certainly."

"Get dressed, then. Well, cleaned-up first, of course. And…maybe some make-up? Not to say you aren't stunning in this moment."

"Hehe. Thank you, pumpkin. I feel so loved."

"You are, Mommy." My hands touched her face, smearing my cum across her features. She simply smiled. "And I'll make sure you never feel otherwise."

It was a deal.

I got up and watched her hoist herself to her feet, then I gave her butt a light smack—with my cum-tainted hand—as she passed me, for the stairs. In the time being, I knew I'd have to wash up, too, and use the bathroom myself.

 ------X------ 

Suddenly I dreaded having to wear shorts, but at least I chose as little as possible for a public outing with her. I knew we would just take a quick walk around the block, which was still a good fifteen minutes or so, regardless of the route. It was a very high-end community, yet despite that we as neighbors mostly kept to ourselves. I believed that was part of the benefit of living here.

Mom was right, the weather truly was wonderful out.

I stepped onto the front stoop wearing a gray T-shirt and a pair of light blue mesh shorts. One layer, no pockets, so it was tremendously thin and lightweight. Someone standing within ten feet of me could, I theory, spot my commando junk under the perforated fabric, especially if I was erect.

Yet I didn't care.

After everything this morning, I only cared about Mom and how she treated me. To my realization, or belief, her love for me surmounted anything else.

I was standing there, enjoying the sunny yet not-too-hot weather on the stone stoop, in my sneakers and ankle socks, shorts, and T-shirt, freshly cleaned up and whatnot, for about fifteen seconds—

"There you are," Mom's voice made me pirouette to face her.

She approached the doorway, from the middle of the living room. She had changed, alright. Her black hair was still in a ponytail, possibly refashioned as it seemed cleaner looking now. Also, a touch of makeup as I'd requested. Some bright red lipstick and blush. No shadow, eyeliner, or mascara that I could tell.

Mom didn't really need any of it, and lipstick didn't typically do anything for me, but with her out in the sun, I thought maybe a little dolling-up would look great.

Even—if not especially—I came on her face again.

I was still flabbergasted that actually happened, and transpired so delightfully…

"All ready?" She asked me.

I'd been in a daze. And for good reason. It wasn't just her face.

Despite the question, I chose to ignore her and blatantly study her body—well, her outfit—with my eyes right then and there. She stood about four feet from me, on the other side of the threshold.

Mom had changed into a silky black skirt, high up on her waist, coming down to just above her knees. It had a consistent white floral pattern. Above it, a white top that appeared snug around her breasts, soft to the touch if memory served correctly, but sturdy in construction. And it had to be, to contain such…jugs.

About those—

The top's straps were practically nonexistent. I didn't think straps could be that thin and yet still support such monstrous milk-meat. Especially as gathered as they were, to the point of not only producing a high-rise cleavage line but also puffy side-boob peering out above the side bands.

Not as outrageous as the gray top she had on before, but still a delightful sight.

"Aw, does that mean you like Mommy's outfit?" She tittered.

And she wasn't talking about my ogling. I suddenly realized I was hard, my erection tenting my shorts.

"Yeesh!" I said, and rushed forward, crossing the threshold, so as to be out-of-sight from possible neighbors. Our yards were spacious enough to give us some distance, but not enough to make me invisible there on the top of the stoop.

In suddenly walking forward, Mom didn't back up, and my absurdly thin-clothed erection pushed its way into her lightweight skirt, stuffing a little pocket between her thighs. Meanwhile, her bosom collided with my chest, and her mouth inadvertently brushed my forehead.

"Oops! Silly boy. What's wrong?"

"I didn't want to be spotted." I peered up at her, nonetheless remaining at zero-proximity. My arms curled around her waist and then I nuzzled her neck, grateful for her raised hair. "Mmm…you smell nice, Mommy."

I gave the nook between her shoulder and neck a kiss.

"Aww, hehe. Thank you, sweetie-pie."

Then my hips thrusted a tad.

"Listen, don't you worry about what others might think of you. Or me. Only care about you."

"And you."

She kissed my forehead. "I'll never do anything shy of love you, my baby boy."

"Promise, Mommykins?" I asked, my voice hushed.

"Promise, sweetie-pie."

"You make me melt," I muttered.

"Likewise, cutie."

"Okay, wait." I pulled back, and faced away from her. I took a deep breath and worked it over in my head until my erection diminished. Then I glanced over her shoulder. "I'm ready."

I proceeded to tell her that, despite her relieving speech about not being bothered by others' judgement, walking with a clothed hard-on would not be super comfortable, so it was best to keep it under control as long as I could. Circumstantially, of course, with clothes.

She understood this, and accepted it, but not excitedly. She hated to know that I was repressing my "true feelings," and encouraged me to "let it out" whenever an opportunity of privacy presented itself.

Again, circumstantially.

Within our own home, this didn't apply.

She seemed to equate my nakedness to vulnerability, and emotional candor, which she adored. And thus, cheered. As for her nudity, well, it didn't come up because, honestly, it didn't really even cross my mind at the time. I was beyond happy with her as she was.

If anything, I felt utterly grateful to even have a say in what she wore, let alone have the freedom to "use her at my heart's content."

We walked leisurely for about five minutes, and for another five we strode more playfully. Taking turns skipping, even. This didn't last long, though, as she would go first and then I, only to pause as she had and watch her skip to catch up.

That hampered my whole "repression," and an intense erection ensued, witnessing the seismic bounce of her jugs.

Upon arriving beside me, wearing a huge smile, I apologized to her.

"Aw, what for? I told you not to—"

"Boobs, Mommy," I snapped, under my breath. We stood behind a tall row of hedges separating the sidewalk from a large house. We were at a damn intersection. "Your big, jiggly boob-meat!"

"Oh, oops!" She said, hands pinching the sides of her skirt. A giggle followed. "Sorry, sweetie."

"Don't apologize for being the apple of my eye, Tubby."

"Aww." She pecked my cheek and smiled.

A quick glance around surveyed that a couple waking their dog approached from the other side of the intersection. And the sound of a cyclist from around the corner…

"Here, let's take the short-cut," she said, gently grabbing my hand and leading me across the street. We almost got run over by the cyclist, and Mom waved, apologizing.

I followed close, at her heels, and my erection bobbed only briefly before diminishing from sheer motion and nervousness.

Once on the other side of the intersection, albeit opposite where the dog-walkers were coming from, me and Mom continued casual jog—more like speed-walking for another ten seconds or so. Then, the sidewalk becoming a little more unkempt with foliage, we hooked a right.

We called it the "short-cut," a narrow alley between tall wooden fences. The paved path cut uphill, for about a hundred paces, emerging onto a side-street with no houses. It was a route taken by trucks with boats, to a nearby lake about a half-mile west. The surrounding area was essentially a greenbelt, and the fences were originally erected to keep the trail unobstructed by creeping foliage.

A tranquil, shaded little alley.

We called it the "short-cut" because we could take it and hang a right at the top, then circle around back home, instead of walking the longer route around the full block. Which would take us anywhere between twenty to thirty minutes, but this trimmed that down to no more than fifteen. Ten if we speed-walked.

"Better?" She asked, catching her breath.

We stood a mere four or five feet past the mouth of the short-cut's base. A car passed by, startling me, although I knew they couldn't see past the trees and foliage by the road.

"A little. Let's go up a bit."

"I'm sorry you're so nervous in public, sweetie."

"What if our neighbors reported us?" I said, hating to address it so harshly. "They…They could never understand how much I love you, Mommy."

"Oh, I know, darling," she said, touching my face. "It's a shame, but I tell you what, it will make our alone time even more special."

I smiled. We resumed walking up the slope.

"You do have a point, though. But I promise, I won't let my baby boy go too long so repressed. It's unnatural, keeping your true feelings at bay."

"Yeah, especially with your big, dumb boobies spilling out like that!" I said, stopping midstride to jab a finger at her chest, gesture-wise. I didn't actually touch her.

"Aw, I'm so sorry, pumpkin." She bowed to be closer to my face, her arms inadvertently—though I'd say deliberately—emphasizing her cleavage. "Should I be more mindful of what I wear in public? For you, dear?"

"No. Never. If anything, you should wear less, Mommy. I want…I want the whole world to know how beautiful you are! And I'll manage. You jus keep showcasing your…your divine body!"

"Oh, gosh. You're too sweet to Mommy." She kissed my forehead, my nose, and then my lips. She held it there for three seconds before withdrawing.

Footsteps approached. We paused and a jogger passed by, earbuds in, not even glancing to his right.

"Let's go up more," I said, and patted her butt outside the skirt.

We walked until we were about ten feet from the opening at the top. As lovely as the short-cut was, and sheltered compared to the roadside, it was still quite exposed. In a way, more so, because we couldn't tell if "the coast was clear," beyond a guess.

And it was in each other's eyes, not wishing to rush such an expression of affection.

"Haven't been up this way in a while," Mom said, smiling and looking around. "It's quite pleasant."

"Anywhere is pleasant with you as company," I said, and held her hand.

"Aww, sweetie." She turned toward me and cupped my face, lifting my chin. She bowed her head slightly and held her pursed lips to mine. They were unsuspecting at first, but after two seconds of contact I embraced the moment and puckered up. My hands fell to her butt, too, and I was grateful for the thinness of the silky skirt. I squeezed, realizing that she must have been wearing a thong or G-string once again.

Her breasts mushed against my chest. I felt my cock return to full mast in less than two seconds, but still the barrier of my shorts was frustrating.

Still, still she held our lips together. No tongue, just a prolonged peck of a kiss. Although her eyes were gently shut, mine meandered open. The tranquility of her up-close expression was endearing alone.

Finally she relaxed her mouth and yet kept her face close to mine. She Eskimo kissed me, and little chills shuddered through me. My hands left her butt to yank my waistband down, and it drew taut under my balls. I stepped even closer, my hips thrusting my cock between her thighs again, a makeshift condom of silk accompanying it. If the skirt was going to remain, my shorts wouldn't.

"Forgive me, Mommy, b-but I can't wait," I whined quietly, and then bent my back to be even lower. I burrowed my face into her silken cleavage, licking and shaking my chops like a famished dog.

"Aww, honey," she said, and I felt her hands clasp just above my nape. "You never have to wait. Damn what anyone might think, I love my baby boy more than they could ever understand."

My cock throbbed in tandem with my pounding heart.

Suddenly I squatted before her, making her gasp with a burst of confusion, but I was very quick. Before she knew it I'd lifted her skirt and returned to my previous posture, fucking her upper thighs, the brim of my glans rubbing a white thon-clad mons Venus.

Given my length and the thickness of her thighs, I could just barely reach this point.

So I dipped my knees a touch more, bringing my face lower, allowing me to thrust at more of a vertical angle. Still relishing the soft snugness of her thighs, it also granted my glans a collision course with her pudgy perineum.

Warm and cozy as any slice of heaven should be.

My hands fondled her breasts, outside of the white top, marveling at the heft of them. She had backed into the fence, and now gasped, gawking down at me. For a moment I feared it was a bad gasp, and then I witnessed the smile on her face, around an open mouth, and her hands cradled my cheeks again.

"Look at you, cutie-pie," she said.

"No, Mommy, look at you. You're a goddess and I must worship thee!"

Or was it "thou"?

Nobody objected.

Mom giggled. "You're the sweetest."

"You meant it, right, Mommy?"

"Meant what, my dear? Well…I mean everything I say to you."

Over my panting breaths I could hear the approach of an engine. Yet I continued to thrust, my production of pre-cum lubricating an action that I didn't think necessarily needed any, either. Which of course only made it even more titillating.

To my right, and Mom's left, a pickup passed, some twenty feet away at least, hauling a boat. The windows were down, but the driver never took his eyes off the road.

Good man.

And I, save a second's glimpse, barely took mine off Mom.

She fleetingly glanced, too, and then returned her eyes to me. Any sign of caution or fear of getting caught seemed to evaporate from her face, supposing it ever existed to begin with.

"That I never have to wait again…to…to love you…my way."

"Yes, my darling boy, yes. Don't you ever hesitate."

"I'm gonna explode, Mommy! Tell me how much you love me again, Mommykins!"

"Aww," she said, smiling big, and warm. Then I felt the pocket of flesh I'd been fucking suddenly become even snugger; I heard her shoes scuff the pavement.

She had crossed her knees.

A breath staggered out of my mouth. My hands fled from her breasts to instead curl both arms around her waist, burying my chin into her salivated cleavage.

I peered up from there, as she looked down at me.

"I love you more than life itself. You are my life, sweetie-pie. And don't you ever forget it. Mommy's adorable baby b—"

"Cumming!" I blurted, through my teeth, and my body cramped from butt to calves. I shot a load between not only her upper thighs, but between her pussy and butt, too. I felt it ooze down, over my cock and likely her inner thighs as well. Given gravity, it wouldn't be contained to her pudgy perineum, and the white thong she wore wasn't enough fabric to soak up even a fraction of the viscous semen.

"Oh my!" She gasped. She then petted my face and slowly I straightened my back, until my softening cock rubbed her clothed mons, smearing it with residual cum, too.

I looked up at her. "I made a mess, Mommy."

"I can feel it, sweetie. Don't pout, though, my dear. I'm honored to be loved so heartwarmingly by such a wonderful boy."

I took a staggering step or two back, and her skirt returned to its natural place.

"If you don't mind marinating in my cum," I said, quite soberly, "can we sit down for a minute?"

She chuckled. "Sure, sweetheart."

Just as we started to slink down the side of the fence, some overlapping voices drew our attention toward the bottom of the path. Then people came into view, by which point Mom had taken my hand and was leading me toward the opening of the short-cut.

I hurriedly returned my shorts, over my sodden and flaccid cock, following her with quick feet. Just as we exited, Mom took a right, and we skirted around a tall hedge of bushes populated with red flowers. It was only about six feet tall and maybe ten or twelve long. We reached the end—spotting no vehicles or people in sight, at least here, where the road curved away—and Mom circumvented it, taking me behind the hedge.

We huddled in the corner, between the flowery bush and this side of the fence. The people never seemed to pass this high up the path, their voices vanishing in the distance.

They must have just been walking the sidewalk down there.

"Maybe I overreacted," she laughed awkwardly.

"No, Mommy, I prefer the privacy." I held her hand again.

"Me, too, pumpkin," she smiled. Then she looked around the tame grass beside the fence, and tucked her skirt under her before sitting down.

The view of looking down at her was surreal. Especially knowing my freedoms now…

"Aren't you gonna sit, darling?" She asked, patting the grass beside her.

"Wait. Put your head back, and look down. Down at your own jugs."

"Hehe. Okay." She did this, and asked, while continuing to use only her eyes to peer at her own cleavage, while sitting cross-legged—knees and lower thighs visible past the skirt—with her ponytail against the fence: "So why am I doing this, silly boy?"

"A game. Like, um…horseshoe, kinda."

She started to question, but I interrupted with the point.

I was looming directly above her, and looking down. I pinched off a thick wad of saliva and dropped it onto her chest. It struck the top of her left breast with a little smack.

"Oh! I see. Hehe." Her giggle made her pale breasts jiggle a little.

Now that's a mouthful…

"Stay still, Tubby. I missed."

"Oh! Okay, sorry." Another soft giggle.

I dropped another, and this one was a bull's eye.

"Yay! Great job, sweetie."

She watched, and I joined, as my glob of spit sunk into her cleavage.

Then I smirked to myself, and sat down beside her, my left arm touching her right. Unlike her, I sat with my knees up. In my breathable shorts, I felt my genitals rest idly. Coolly, almost.

"That was stupid. But I dunno. Felt like that." I shrugged.

"Not stupid. Fun." She smiled, looking across her right shoulder, at me. "Was it for fun for you, honey?"

"Kinda," I shrugged.

"That's all that matters. Besides, it's one of the reasons Mommy loves you so much. You're so creative and fun-spirited. No matter how silly you think you're being, it's utterly adorable."

"God, I do love you, Mommy. I swear it's not just your giant boobs. As much as I do love them."

"Aw, I know, sweetheart."

Although I had just sat down, I got back up and walked past her, to the hedge. I plucked a red flower, and then dropped to one knee. My left nudged her right breast, as I tucked the leafy stem of the flower under the spaghetti strap of her top. The bright red petals were a dazzling contrast against her pale right breast.

"Matches your lips, Mommy," I said.

"Oh, sweetie, this is just…" She glanced down at the flower, and then smiled warmly up at me. "I love you so much, my baby boy."

I wanted to melt into her again.

I leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and in doing so dragged my right knee across the grass; my shorts were hiked up my thighs, and I essentially straddled her left breast.

"I love my Mommy so much," I murmured against her brow. I could feel my shorts getting…

Tighter.

"Oh, fuck," I muttered, and started to reach down. Instead of lowering my shorts, my hands cupped her face and lifted her chin higher. Into her eyes, I magnetized. "Pull my shorts down, Mommy."

She didn't even question or object. She gently lowered the waistband and a fresh erection sprang free. She took my shorts down a good foot from where they had been. I bent my knee a tad and let my pulsing boner rest on top of her left breast.

Mom didn't, for as little as a millisecond, look down. Her eyes remained affixed to mine.

"Already, darling?"

"For my Mommy," I said, my voice hushed.

"Aww." She gripped my cock, her soft thumb grazing the underside of my glans. I gasped but it stuck in my throat. And then she smiled, and her next words were like a song I wanted to save to an undying playlist: "Let Mommy milk you again?"

It was half-question, half-statement.

"With your big, fat boobies?" I whimpered, my voice barely audible.

Her smile broadened. "Yes, sweetie-pie. With Mommy's jugs."

Hearing such a silly word breach her lips, so casually, and yet devoid of playfulness, was intoxicating.

I started to readjust but instead she took the initiative, turning her torso and leaning onto one hand in the grass, until the tip of my cock touched her salivated cleavage.

"That's my boy," she whispered.

I thrusted once.

"Is Mommy enough for you, pudding?" She asked, adorably, looking up at me, a slight crease to her brow.

"M-More than enough, dummy."

"Good. Because I'm all you'll ever need, my angel."

I gasped and began thrusting faster, harder. My brow furrowed and I got hung up on the 'M' for a solid three seconds before the word finally spilled out in a weak whimper.

"Mommy!"

"Yes, I'm here for you. My loving baby boy. Drain your full balls with Mommy's big boobies." I felt her hand cradle my balls and a tickling, eye-rolling sensation I'd not previously felt spread through me.

At this point there was an audible sloshing and smacking as I fucked her plump, snug, pre-cum and saliva-lubricated cleavage.

My right hand flattened against the wooden fence over her left shoulder, for support. But my left dropped to her right breast, and I removed the flower I'd placed under her strap, shaking slightly. I lifted it and secured the stem in her hair, above her right ear. The ponytail kept that part of her hair taut, so the flower fit perfectly.

"Such a sweetheart," she said, smooching her lips.

"So…fucking…big…" I lowered my left hand to squeeze the lump of side-boob oozing above the band of her top, near her armpit. My fingers sunk in as I continued to ravish her cleavage. "So…fat and…soft…my Mommy's…"

"Gosh, sweetie, you're so hot. It doesn't hurt, does it?"

My cock was on fire. The saliva and pre-cum were infinitesimally cooling, as the snug crevice of her cleavage was very warm after walking outside for much longer already than anticipated.

"No," I said. "No, you make me feel amazing, Mommy! But it…it hurts when it's not touching you!"

"Aw, you poor thing. Don't you ever hesitate again, pumpkin."

"I won't. As long as you don't hide your beautiful skin from me, Mommy!"

"Never, sweetie. I'll wear whatever my baby boy wants."

"Wear my fucking semen, Mommy! I'm gonna n-n-nut!"

"I'll wear it proudly, my angel," she smiled, and overlapped her forearms, hands reaching for either bicep. Her breasts mushed closer together, as if possible, and the fissure of fatty flesh in which I feverishly fucked—yep—welcomed another immense load of cum.

"Take it, Mommy!" I squealed, my face looming over her, lips matting her forehead as my hips pumped and my balls dumped a seemingly endless load of semen into her deep cleavage. As I moaned, she gasped and giggled simultaneously. She started to lift her face to look up at me, but I seized her ponytail and gave a little push, making sure she looked down. "Watch me cover your jugs with my cum, Mommy!"

Somewhere, in the woods behind me, a bird chirped with another.

Ain't nature poetic?

"So much, sweetie!" She gasped, gleefully it seemed, as I continued to dollop the tops of her breasts and chest with the last of my record-breaking—for me, anyway—load.

"Always a lot for my big, beautiful Mommy," I said, and let go of her hair. I leaned forward and let my slackening balls dunk her cleavage. I cupped her face, tilting her head back, and kissed her forehead.

"I'm so grateful."

 ------X------ 

Chapter Text

Mom wasn't lying, either. Not even stretching the truth. After a brief breather, I pulled my shorts up and we returned home, choosing to retrace our steps instead of circling around. This way we shaved off a few minutes, and were back behind closed doors where the wonders of air-conditioning blessed us.

Prior, we had passed three people.

One was a couple in their fifties who we exchanged smiling nods as we passed on the same sidewalk. Well, the grass for me and the older man. The third was a man jogging while simultaneously walking his dog, with earbuds in and talking on the phone. The whole works for that guy.

All three surely noticed the sheen on Mom's chest. As if they didn't attract the eyes on impulse as they were, and perhaps the people dismissed it as sweat. The man jogging had been wearing shades, which would rationalize why he did a double-take as he passed us. And in doing so, nearly tripped over his dog.

It made me chuckle.

The couple seemed a little flabbergasted, especially since we had a long approach within each other's line-of-sight, unlike the turning-the-corner dog jogger.

At any rate, we were back home.

I asked if Mom was regretting not wiping her chest off before we walked back, to which she replied simply:

"I meant what I said, darling."

About her wearing my cum, proudly. And being grateful. It was all there, and the authenticity was in her eyes, which acted as the cherries on top.

"Well, as breathtaking a sight as it is, could you go wash up and get changed?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

I asked if she had any business to tend to today. She shook her head, smiling.

"I'm all yours this weekend, pumpkin."

I proposed cuddling. We had not done it in a while, like genuine on-the-bed cuddling, which she noted, too.

"I'd love that. A little rest before grabbing some lunch, maybe?"

"Good thinking, Mommy," I said, and as she took a few steps up the stairs, I noticed the glistening trail of cum down the length of her inner right leg. It stopped inches above her ankle.

Goodness gracious.

She paused at the top, and even leaned over the railing, her breasts spilling forward, without exiting the fabric.

"What should I wear, babycakes?" She asked, and I almost teetered where I stood. It was a name I had no heard in eons.

I took a moment to respond, pleasantly taken aback by that, and how casually, how delicately, she said it.

"Um…s-something white, maybe? If not, whatever. Just…as comfy as you can be."

"Okay, cutie," she giggled, and was off to her room.

Big oof.

I made a beeline to the kitchen, rinsed my genitals off in the sink—a high tip-toe and splashing of water—then patted dry with some paper towels, ultimately fetching a cold bottle of H2O.

Next, I ditched the shorts in the laundry bin and found myself rushing to the bathroom upstairs. It was two doors from Mom's room. I left the door ajar as I urinated for a very long breath, and then washed my hands and meandered back to my room.

"I'm ready when you are, sweetie," I heard her behind me. I turned. She must have called out from her room; the door hung open.

"Just a sec," I said, and scampered into my room. I wiped my underarms of sweat, applied fresh deodorant, ditched my socks, and approached the hall again. "Can I not wear a shirt?"

"Of course, silly boy. Whatever you're comfy in."

I wasn't mega proud of my body; lean but not skinny, average but not overweight. Even for my youth, if not especially.

Ultimately I discarded my shirt and nervously ran down the hall, rushed into her room, and leapt onto the bed before either of us could process the presence of each.

The bed bounced, and Mom laughed joyously.

"Settle down, silly," she said, lying on her side, facing me. Her heather-white dress of sorts practically camouflaged her with the white covers and sheets of her bed.

I relaxed and stretched out on my left side to face her, only to curl my legs up into the fetal position, concealing my embarrassingly small, soft cock in the process.

"Don't be so shy, darling. Scoot closer. Snuggle with Mommy. Like we used to. But closer. Now that you know how much Mommy loves her adorable baby boy."

Cue the tingling sensations…

I scooted closer, and finally relaxed, outstretching my legs. Blood had begun to re-engorge my cock, and especially upon sizing her up, I was at full-mast again in seconds.

Mom had her wavy black hair behind a fuzzy white headband, so it flowed down her back. The "dress" she wore was basically an oversized T-shirt with a moderate neckline, snug enough to drape her breasts to the point of wedging between them, while hugging her wide hips and thighs, but fairly loose elsewhere.

I realized in that moment…

She was naked under the fabric.

And it was not a thick fabric.

I could even see impressions of her nipples against the heather-white material. Its appealing softness, for not being silk, was tempting my touch.

"I hope this is okay, babycakes," she said lightly. At the sound of that word again, and in the wake of such a tender voice, my gaze was drawn back to her face. Her makeup was gone.

I wanted to lick her features and then cum on them.

Suddenly I felt seized by the Horny Gods again.

Or perhaps they were Devils in my case…

My right hand grabbed her left breast, which naturally rested on top of the other. I squeezed it, savoring how far my fingers sunk into the thinly clad flesh.

"Better than okay, Mommy," I whispered.

"Wonderful," she smiled. Her left arm reached out to hook my bare waist and pull me closer.

My cock twitched and prodded the slight pudge of her completely relaxed and unrestrained tummy.

"I didn't know a fabric could be so soft," I said.

"Aww, yeah? I'm so happy you like it, too. It's the comfiest."

"I'd hate to ruin it with my semen, Mommy," I said, sibilating that medical yet circumstantially forbidden word of sorts, just slightly, my tongue tucked between my teeth when I did.

"Hehe. Never worry about any of that, my dear."

"Pull me closer, Mommy?" I spoke with a softer inflection. Whenever I wanted to feel especially "small" and vulnerable. Also, witnessing the tenderness in her expression alone, was priceless. "Hug your baby boy."

"Happily," she smiled, and not only pulled me closer to her but scooted forward, too. My cock displaced a snug, narrow pocket of the sensationally soft white fabric between her upper thighs. How far up, I didn't realize, until my glans—as if sentient—suggested that it was making contact with her pussy.

As before, I assumed she was wearing a thong or G-string.

"You're so c-cozy," I said, as if shivering.

Yet it was perfectly warm inside; a tinge of cold was in the air, from the A/C, but not enough to induce chattering teeth. No, I was stuttering out of awe.

"You are too, cutie-pie," she said, smiling, and kissed my brow. "Are you comfy? Comfy as can be?"

My eyes descended to her breasts, their silken enormity, and I gulped. I heard her giggle and then I peered up at her from below the ridge of a furrowed brow.

"You wanna hug Mommy's boobies, don't you, sweetheart?"

I nodded.

"They're all yours, silly. Mommy belongs to her boy."

I panted, gasped, moaned, and whimpered all at once.

"Oh, Mommy!"

Immediately, I curved my body to bury my face into her thinly clothed breasts, their colossal size enveloping my head. My hands didn't relent as every finger and thumb dug in for traction, part of me wishing to squeeze until she claimed it hurt. Not because I wanted to hug my goddess of a mother, but because I wanted inexorable confirmation of her statement—

That she was mine.

And then a lightbulb blinked on in my head.

I looked up from her breasts, the white fabric blotched with spots of saliva. My hands still seizing them, at least best I could, I posed a less-timid question.

"Can…Can I kiss them? Snuggle them? Like…underneath?"

"I don't see why not, babycakes," she said, with far less hesitation than I would've ever anticipated.

"Really?" My eyes lit up.

"Hehe, you bet, pumpkin. How 'bout you lie on your back and let Mommy take care of you?"

I wasn't expecting that, either, nor did I exactly know what she meant. But I went with it, rolling onto my back with my legs extended and my cock pointed at the ceiling, throbbing. It eventually lolled to the side, and then I practically forgot it existed—

Mom lifted her loungewear, be it a long shirt or dress, and adjusted her posture on the bed until it enveloped me, as far down as my elbows. She had hoisted her torso up, propped by her right elbow, letting her heavy naked breasts rest on my face. The sunlight bathing the room was gentler under her; barely dim, given the thinness of the material, but once her jugs were covering my face, well, it grew dark. And for once I didn't mind.

I succumbed and, though I didn't have use of my hands, opened my mouth and began. It was a mess of blind actions, from kissing to licking and a series of attempted, sloppy sucking. Her areolas were horripilated and her nipples, well, perhaps not necessarily erect, but like soft little beads against my cheeks, nose, lips, and occasionally tongue.

The sheer softness of the organs against my face, and their heft, and the fact that they belonged to her, was more than enough to bring me to that proverbial edge faster than ever before.

And all without touching myself.

Mom let me enjoy her breasts like this for a good fifteen, maybe twenty seconds before she "intervened." Or perhaps "assisted" was a better word. It took me by surprise, too, the gentleness of her hand, but more than that, the paradoxical firmness.

My toes curled and my butt clenched, hips lifting an inch or two on impulse as she stroked my cock. Pre-cum oozed out and she utilized it without missing a hitch.

I moaned "Mommy" against her now-moist breasts and wished I could see her face.

"That's my boy," she said. "Shhh. Let Mommy take care of you, sweetie."

I stopped licking and trying to suck on her breasts and nipples, simply to nuzzle them. My forearms reached for her, as the fabric was taut around my biceps, not allowing for much movement. Eventually my fingers found her exposed butt, or at least the mound that was her left hip, and sunk in for an intimate hold.

Then her other hand went lower, and massaged my balls. It was maybe three or four seconds later that I came.

I squealed "Mommy" and blindly heard her giggle and cheer as I erupted, literally, like a volcano. The vertical ejaculation led to drops landing on my own thighs and stomach. Moreover, her hand never left my cock, which meant she got some on her, too.

The second I did shoot, Mom stopped stroking me, instead just holding the base of my cock and letting me spew.

Finally I stopped, and Mom helped me scoot out from under her outfit. I glimpsed the bareness of her stomach, the narrow white G-string she wore, and then she lowered herself beside me, the white fabric snugly conforming her body once more.

She nuzzled my face and gave me an Eskimo kiss.

"Did I do okay, sweetie? Mommy make you feel nice?"

I nodded, speechless.

"What more can I do? Just wanna cuddle now?"

As she asked me, I realized something that took me by surprise. Hoping to give her a surprise of her own, I immediately withdrew to a low kneeling posture, my legs spread and my balls touching the white comforter. Which, by the way, had gotten a drop or two of cum on it, too; I knew because my hands touched them.

I leaned forward a little, more or less on all fours, concealing my groin, and facing the edge of the bed.

"Get up, Mommy. Stand next to the bed."

"Um, sure, honey. Is something wrong?" She scooted off the bed, adjusted the fabric around her butt, and faced the edge of the mattress.

"How could anything be wrong," I said, crawling across the bed, toward her. "With such a devoted goddess as my Mommy?"

I raised to my knees and kissed her on the lips, albeit briefly. My hands gripped her biceps.

"Oh, pumpkin. When you say things like that—"

"You are devoted to me, right?" I said.

"Through and through."

"What if I said I wanted you to make me cum until my body needed rest or replenishment? Like really needed it? Huh? What if I wanted you to really…drain me, Mommy?"

She smiled infinitesimally.

"I could never say no to…making my baby boy happy."

I stood up all of a sudden, and my erection—it never went down—struck her right breast from below, indenting it briefly and even lifting it a touch, before sliding out and appearing before her, at clavicle-level.

She gasped, glancing at it, glistening from pre-cum and semen alike, then averting her eyes up at me. The sunlight filling the room played beautifully in her green irises.

"My goodness, sweetie. Are you in pain?"

"Just the opposite. You make me feel alive, Mommy. You were made to milk my balls."

"Happily, my precious boy," she said, and gathered her breasts together with both arms, the thin white fabric now clinging to the skin beneath, thanks to my salivation. The shadowed valley between them was nothing shy of invitational.

I stepped forward, my toes clutching the edge of the bed, and then my knees dipped just enough to drive my cock into her clothed cleavage, sheathed by fabric and invaded by me. I thrusted, while my hands cupped her face and kept her chin up.

"Harder, Mommy. Squeeze your giant jugs harder. Hug me with your milk-meat!"

She smirked and complied. I felt it, too.

"You're all I need," I panted, thrusting. Every fifth push, my cock would miss that valley and probe the inner mound of a breast, left and right, but for once not on accident. This was almost, if not equally, titillating as driving between them.

My thumbs caressed her cheeks and my face lowered to lick her from chin to nose. Her mouth opened in a smiling gasp.

"And all I want," I said, bringing my tongue to her parted lips, and then her teeth. "My balls ache for you, Mommy."

"Ache no more, sweetie. I want you to cum as much as you want. Give Mommy your warm, thick, generous semen. Your love-seed."

"Yes. I love you, Mommy. I love you and your big, fat jugs!"

"They're yours, darling! Mommy's all yours! Whatever you want, whenever, I'll be there for you! My angel…nut on Mommy! Paint me with your seed, sweetie! Love Mommy!"

"I love, I love you so much, M—"

My lips collided to form the word whose power never diminished with me, but it didn't come together as I exploded. My body tensed up while key components loosened. I shot broad strides of white cum up Mom's exposed chest and clothed breasts; a few drops even grazed her face.

"Oh, sweetie! Mommy loves you, too!" She gasped and laughed, cheerfully, as I painted her with sperm.

Lo and behold, as much as I preciously envisioned myself using her to cum time and again before I actually exhausted myself, fatigue caught up to me in that instant.

I ultimately collapsed onto the bed, supine.

"My poor, darling, precious boy," she babied me with that tender, pursed-lip inflection.

My knees were bent, legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

Suddenly my legs twitched and pleasant tingles coursed through even my arms as I felt Mom's tongue clean my thighs, balls, cock—alas soft—and lower stomach, of cum. She eventually gave my cock some sucking, too, as a finalization of her process.

And then she kissed my navel, gently, which in my mind was a gesture of her biological maternity.

"Mommy?" I asked quietly, without lifting my head or even opening my eyes all the way.

"Yes, babycakes?" She replied just as delicately.

"Change into something else and…and then come back to bed. Lie on your…your tummy, let me…use your butt as my…my pillow."

She chuckled ever so quietly. "As you wish, sweetheart. Be back in a minute."

Whether she was or not, I couldn't say how long before she returned. Absentmindedly, even after I transitioned from consciousness to the sleep-world, I could still feel a sensation of my head lifting and coming down to rest upon something with more give than the comforter and mattress. Soft, although not of exposed skin.

Still, cozy and cuddle-worthy. As any Mommy should be.

And mine was all I needed.