My Mother's Cock, Act One

Author's Note

This story was submitted in the Fetish category, but it features an incestuous relationship between a mother and her daughter. The mother also has a cock, but is not presented as a trans character. Either way, make an informed decision about whether this one is for you; there are five acts waiting in the wings, so give this a skip if you're not into that's about to happen.

If that all sounds swell and dandy, this story is for you.

*******

A mother is a ridiculous thing to lust after, but I just can't help myself. Call it abhorrent, call it a sickness, call it whatever you want. I'm not really bothered. My mom is singularly worthy of worship and I'd do just about anything to get my tongue up inside of her body. Well... almost anything.

No, that's not quite true. I'm a coward through and through. I'll worship her alone in the dead of night from my bedroom down the hall and hate myself for it thoroughly. There, happy now?

I don't suppose so. Neither am I, but such is life.

Indulge me though, won't you? Just picture her - maybe then you won't think I'm such a gross little freak.

Anna, also known as 'Mom' or 'Mama' around these parts, is a statuesque bombshell of a woman. I know 'bombshell' is a little outdated, but the wizards down at the dictionary factory haven't released any cool new vocabulary in a hot minute, so you're just going to have to make do with some of the following adjectives: buxom, curvy, thick, stunning... you get the picture. She's got the kind of body that our entire species has been obsessively venerating for time beyond memory. She's the reference photo that women in the valley take to their plastic surgeons. She's the gold standard. The cream of the crop. The MILF-Prime, if you will. Full, heavy tits, an ass that men would go to war for, these wide, heavenly hips, and the the most gorgeous face... Oh my fucking God, this woman is so pretty it makes me positively feral. Even her frowns get me wet.

And I'm just her daughter, Belle. Just Belle, nothing special. Reclusive, maladaptive, not terribly interesting. Almost certainly unwell from a psychiatric perspective. Terminally horny, too chicken-shit to do anything about it, and unavoidably obsessed with my own mother's juicy, delicious asshole. And her pussy. Mustn't forget that little detail. I've never seen it, but like... I wanna. Real bad. It'd beat spreading my legs for guys or girls at parties and posting faceless pictures of my naked body on Reddit for attention. Let's be real though, I'd still do both those things regardless.

I know that 22 is too old to be at home still, and I have it on very good authority that most self-respecting adults aspire to do more than just take verbal abuse as a call center rep all day, but addressing either of those two truths meant distance from Mama, and that just wasn't going to happen. I needed her, and I think she needed me in her own little way too. I often felt like little more than her weird gremlin sidekick whenever we went out together, but that had nothing to do with the way she actually treated me at all. Far from it, living with my mom felt like basking in the tight friendship of someone so much more socially capable that you just can't help but smile and tag along for the ride.

As for the raging, unquenchable desire to shove my face between her thighs and suffocate myself against her holes, I really can't pinpoint the exact moment it began. For all her vivacious outward charm, she's a frustratingly private woman. She locks the door when she showers, she's got an infuriating penchant for these long, shapeless skirts in public that do nothing to highlight her curves, and her underwear are all these drab, shapeless granny panties that look like they've been designed for cloistered nuns. And yes, I only know that because I routinely pillage a few pairs for personal use. You have to take your wins when you can. You should smell them after an afternoon spent in the garden. Sweet ambrosia, I'm telling you.

But it obviously couldn't happen. Womp womp, so sad. Then again, you knew that when you clicked on this story, didn't you? Yeah you did, you nasty little pervert. You like that shit. You're here for the "Oh but we can't!" action.

Honestly... same. I just hope you're also here for the most unexpected surprise of all.

Anna, my Mama, my dearly beloved and the sole object of my slutty infatuation, doesn't have a pussy for me to lick. She's got... something else. Something you have to see to believe.

*******

"Have enough to eat, sweet cheeks?"

I smiled across at Mom and nodded. "Mhm, thanks. It was great."

"Good," she smiled. "Give me your plate."

"I got it," I protested. "You go shower, I can clean up here."

"Yeah? Oh, thanks hun. I appreciate it."

"Uh huh, no problem."

And just like that, she slipped upstairs like any other night while I got down to the business of clearing dinner off the table. It was just the two of us; I don't know why she always insisted on eating at the table, but traditions need to be observed I guess. I never minded; she was wonderful company and I'd take any chance just to sit across from her and sink into her rich, dark eyes. Something about watching her lips move while she complained about the men at work just got me damn near soaked every single night. I was in deep, I'm telling you.

Like clockwork, I heard the shower shudder into life overhead as I cursed her inwardly for being so consistent with the lock on her door. None of my friends' moms minded changing in front of them. Mama was perfect in every way except this one. Still, as with eating at the dinner table, you just can't skip some things... like trying the door to her bathroom.

I don't even know why I still pretended she'd ever forget the lock. Maybe it was hope, or maybe it was habit - how often the two look alike, eh? Either way, I kicked the dishwasher closed and tiptoed upstairs to jiggle the handle for the hundred thousandth time, praying against all odds that this time would be different.

"Come on," I whispered, reaching for the brass knob. "Just one peek."

My heart didn't even sink any more. Not that much anyway. It used to hammer in my chest every time I'd try; my breath would quicken and my pussy would quiver with anticipation. Not anymore though. Now I just casually reached out, gave it a little wiggle and...

"Fuck!"

It turned. Three straight years of trying this stupid fucking doorknob and it finally turned! I jerked my hand away like I'd burned it - I had imagined this moment so many times that I almost didn't know what to do with myself now that it was finally here!

"Calm your tits, stupid," I whispered to myself. "Get your shit together. Can't fuck this up."

I closed my eyes and planned my movements carefully. I could only risk a brief glance. Greed would get me caught, and I wasn't about to go another thousand days wondering what the goddess who'd raised me was working with under all the frumpy dresses and bulky sweaters. I'd turn the handle, crack the door maybe two inches, get a two-Mississippi long look, then quickly back away. Hopefully the shower door hadn't fogged up too bad.

Hand to handle.

Turn.

Push.

Peek.

One Mississippi.

I nearly screamed at what I saw. No, I needed to let it out.

I jerked the door closed and fled down the hall, throwing myself face-first into my pillow and letting out a primal, heart-sick wail.

My Mama didn't have a pussy.

She had a cock. A massive, meaty, veiny cock. I had made direct eye contact with it. I'd seen it all. There was no mistaking that limp trunk hanging between her legs.

"It was a toy," I assured myself. "She was playing with something. I looked too quick, that's all."

I knew it wasn't.

"The room was all steamy, the light was just playing tricks on me."

That wasn't true either.

"She's my Mama. She can't have a... a dick!"

Oh, but she really did.

"Belle? Honey, is that you? Baby, is everything alright?"

I panicked and scrambled for some way to cover for the fact that I had probably slammed the bathroom door too hard for secrecy; there was just no way she wouldn't guess at what had happened. My heart sank and then stopped altogether as the shower turned off.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," I cussed, jumping up to turn my light off. I ripped my jeans off and hopped into bed, hoping to sell the flimsy impression that I had gone to bed for the night at 7:13pm.

Another minute went by. Then two. My door cracked open and a sliver of light from the hallway fell across my face.

"You okay, honey bear?"

"Just sleepy," I lied. "Thought I'd get some rest."

The pause was heavy. "You sure?"

"Uh huh. I'm okay, Mama, just tired."

God damn her, why did she have to be so fucking sweet and caring and shit? She didn't buy it for a second.

"Hun," she said softly. "Come on. Meet me in the living room, okay? I think we might have some stuff to talk about."

"Can we do it tomorrow?"

"Oh, baby, no. I think it needs to be now, doesn't it?"

I groaned. "Okay."

"Five minutes, 'kay?"

"Yes Mama."

You better believe I milked those five minutes. I was pretty sure that whatever was about to follow would mark the start of a before-and-after divide in my life. I don't even mind admitting that I let a few lonely tears out while I gathered my courage up. Why'd she have to have a cock? Why'd I look?

I grew tired of trying to tally up all the different ways to hate myself. There was nothing left. If she was going to kick me out, I'd just let her do it and get it over with, even if it'd kill me to leave her.

I pulled on some sweats and went back downstairs. Mama waited for me in the living room, cradling a glass of wine with her feet pulled up on the couch and wearing a loose cotton housecoat.

"Hi Mama," I said timidly, taking a seat opposite her.

"Hi sweets," she returned. I wondered if she felt as dejected as I did - it was hard not to imagine that we were both faking politeness just to cling to a few more minutes of normality before things changed forever. "Thanks for coming down. I... I know you must have so many questions."

"I... No, I don't - What do you..."

"Belle, honey bun, please. None of that, okay?"

"I don't know what you mean."

She smiled patiently and sipped her wine. She drew a deep breath and licked her lips before continuing. "Sweetheart, I know you peeked."

"I... Well, I just..."

"Listen, alright? What's done is done. There's no use pretending it didn't happen."

I felt a lump grow in my throat. My lip quivered. "I'm... Mama, I'm sorry! Oh, God, I didn't mean to! I... I feel so stupid! I don't know what got into me, I swear. Please tell me you don't hate me!"

The elegant mask of patient kindness never slipped; if anything, her face softened as I teetered on the brink of hysteric tears. "Oh baby, shhhh, it's okay. Look, it's alright - do you see me crying?"

"No."

"And do I look upset?"

"No."

"So let's just talk about it, yeah?"

"Okay," I sniffled.

"Good. Better. Just talking. That's all we need to do."

"Just talking."

She took another sip and set the glass down next to her. I watched as she tugged a hair tie off her wrist and slipped her long, dark hair into a ponytail. "That's it. Now, we'll start again; we don't need to dance around it, but you need to tell me what you saw."

I stared at my toes. "I saw you in the shower."

"Okay, good start. What else?"

"Umm. You were... naked."

"I was," she laughed. "I usually am when I'm in there. Keep going."

"Th... that's it, really. Just saw you in there I guess."

Her patience, still gentle and kind, started to show cracks. She sighed. "Belle, come on."

"I... You... I saw your - I saw your dick!"

She winced just a little. "There it is. I thought so."

We sat and stewed in that one for a long, heavy moment.

She spoke again. "I know you have thoughts about that. You're my daughter, you have to... I don't know, be curious about it or something?"

I blew out a long, exasperated breath and searched the room for somewhere to launch my inquiry from. "I don't even know, Mama, really. Just... how, for starters?"

She shrugged. "Born this way," she offered simply. "One in a million shot. Just lucky, I suppose."

"But you're my mom."

"I am."

"So like..."

I had never met any kind of father, and Anna had never introduced me to anyone that might have been my second parent. As far as I always assumed, I was a one-off oopsie, the byproduct of a reckless indiscretion. A broken condom maybe.

"I'm still your Mama. But there's another one too."

"There is?!" I asked, piqueing excitedly.

She smiled anew, but it was a melancholic thing. "There is."

"Is she... like you?"

She laughed. "Heavens, no! Somebody had to give birth to you."

"Can I meet her?!"

"That'll be up to her. It wasn't part of the deal, but I'll ask."

"Okay. Okay, cool. Uh, shit. So, like... that's wild."

"You're okay?"

"Yeah," I said tentatively. "I guess so. I mean, there had to be someone. I just figured it was a dude since..." I gestured in her general direction. "You know. You're Mama."

Something happened then that caught me way off guard; Anna beamed at me. It was the same look of parental pride that I had received routinely in life, but she glowed with it now. It was love, pure and unfiltered.

"I am," she said softly. The mushy moment encircled my anxiety and squeezed the life out of it. "Always. Gosh, and here I was so worried about what you might think."

"What?! Come on, you're... you're the best! I mean, I love you. That's not gonna change just because..."

"I've got a dick," she finished coyly.

"Well, yeah. I guess," I laughed.

"Thanks bug."

"Any time Mama bear."

She drew a deep breath and blew out a long, relieved breath. "Ugh, whew. Glad that's over with. I... I need another glass of wine. Do you want one?"

I wasn't much of a drinker, but it felt appropriate. "You know what, yeah; I think I will. And then... we can talk more?"

It was impossible not to imagine the swinging length of cock meat dangling between her thighs as she got up to fetch our drinks, but she squeezed my shoulder on the way by and muttered sweet agreement - I was hard pressed to set aside my burning, incestuous curiosity, but I could temper those embers and be a normal daughter for her tonight if I had to be. It was only right.

We did talk. Hours and hours of talking. I learned more about her and myself that night than I had in years. She told me about my other mom, a woman named Ruby that she had fallen in love with more than twenty years ago, and how life pulled them apart just as things were getting serious. I had been Ruby's parting gift to Anna, a lasting monument to their love. Ruby ultimately needed to let her career and passions take her halfway across the world, but it was so heartwarming to hear the obvious affection in Mama's voice as she talked about her still. I really hoped that Ruby would want to meet me. She sounded lovely.

We tiptoed around the catalyst of our whole conversation. I thanked my lucky stars that Mom didn't probe me too hard about why I was trying to peep at her in the first place, but she freely acknowledged that my curiosity must have been driven by her own private nature.

"It's not the kind of thing you can just tuck away at pool parties," I remember her telling me late that night.

The clock showed well after 2:00 when we both accepted that our bodies needed some sleep. I wanted to stay and just... live near her some more, but even I had to admit that my eyelids were growing too heavy to fight. I knew I was being greedy, but who wouldn't be? I had another mom! The mom I'd known all my life had a cock! I wasn't going to get thrown out on my ass for being a degenerate pervert! There was so much new stuff to unpack!

"I wanna stay up and talk more," I told her.

She beamed at me with the same loving look that had been in place all night, albeit somewhat more sleepy-looking. "I know baby, so do I. I'm so tired though; can we pick this up tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Uh huh. I'd like that a lot."

"Me too, hun. Let's get some rest for now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Deal."

Mama slipped off to her room and shut her door softly. I did the same, and fell asleep before I could even remember to rub myself.

*******

'Walkin' on Sunshine' blasted through the house at 7:30am the next morning. I awoke with an infectious smile on my face and joy in my heart.

"Hey baby!" Mama shouted over the music, using a pancake spatula for her microphone. "I'm walkin' on sunshine WHOAH OHHHH! And don't it feel GOOD!"

It was so sweet. I laughed for what felt like the first time in ages as she danced around, cracking eggs and spilling batter all over the place. Ours had always been a happy home, but the falling curtain of secrecy had emancipated something so vibrant, so free and beautiful, that it all felt brand new. I cackled like a madwoman every time it was my turn to sing a line of our breakfast nook karaoke.

Mama turned down the music and slid a plate of food in front of me as she flopped into her seat. "Dig in, buttercup."

"This looks so good," I raved, dousing everything in sight with a liberal tide of maple syrup.

"Only the best for my baby," she cooed.

I laughed. "You're in a suspiciously good mood for someone who only slept like five hours."

"What can I say? The sun is shining, my daughter's a cutie, and life is good!"

What a gorgeous soul. Honestly, just an actual, living goddess. "It is good, isn't it?"

"Uh huh! And!"

"And?"

"I emailed Ruby before bed last night; she said she would love to meet you next time she can get away."

"REALLY?!"

"Really!"

I threw myself at her and wrapped my arms around her neck. "Oh that's so wonderful! Gah, I'm so happy!"

Anna giggled and tried to wiggle away from my bombard of overenthusiastic kisses, putting up nominal protests as I lathered her cheeks and face with lush, cartoonish smooches.

"Baby," she squealed, "Oh my god, what are you... Belle, Jesus you're..."

Something poked me. Something in her lap. We both felt it.

She straightened her housecoat and cleared her throat as I timidly slid back into my seat. "Sorry Mama," I muttered. "I just..."

The conflict was written plainly across her face, but her determination to keep things tender won out. "No," she insisted. "It's my fault. I know there's still a lot that we should talk about but... No, you know what? We'll do that later. It's breakfast, and we've got lots of time for the other stuff."

"No," I pushed back. If she could be brave, so could I. "No, do it now. While we eat. It's okay. No more secrets."

I'd never grow tired of the way she kept looking at me; all those barrier-breaking moments just kept producing the most electrifying looks of love and affection. I couldn't get enough. I was a bit addicted.

"Really?" she asked. "You sure? I don't want to ruin your lake of maple syrup."

"Listen, talking about your dick is fine, but I will NOT be hearing any feedback about how I eat my pancakes, got it?"

She laughed. "Sure, you got it."

"Good. Now... tell me about - Well, whatever."

She drew a breath and took a long sip of her coffee, shifting in her seat. "God, shit. I don't even know what to say now." She let out a breathy laugh. "I've had twenty two years to prepare for this and now I don't even know where to start. Blegh."

"Take your time," I offered. I reached out to squeeze her hand for good measure.

"I just... Oh, Belle, honey. This is the worst part."

"Don't be scared. I love you."

"I love you too, baby, it's just not easy to actually say out loud. I mean, Christ, I have a hard enough time thinking about it myself."

"Just blurt it out then. Anything. Take a deep breath and..."

"I get super fucking horny," she spat.

I nearly blew maple syrup out my nose. "Shit!"

"Sorry," she laughed, embarrassed. "You said to blurt it out."

I coughed and tried to clear my throat with a mouthful of orange juice. "I did," I conceded. "I just wasn't expecting THAT."

She shrugged and looked beautifully sheepish. "I don't know why you would have," she chuckled again. "But the cat's out of the bag, so you might as well get the whole story."

"There's a story now?!"

"No, silly, I meant figuratively. That's actually pretty much all there is to it - It's... complicated, but that's the main bit."

"You're horny?"

She wiggled in her seat. "I mean... kinda?"

"You absolutely NEED to elaborate."

A sigh. "I don't know what it is, but whenever I get... pent up... I just - fuck, this is embarassing. I have to do something about it, you know?"

"Been there," I muttered. She couldn't know the truth behind my words, but still. They needed to be said.

"No," she insisted. "You don't get it, it's a real battle. It isn't the kind of thing I can just ignore for a few days or get laid once a year and be happy with. When I get... turned on... I have to take care of it."

"Oh my god," I gasped. "Blue balls. You get blue balls."

"Oh, honey, no. It's so much more than that. Blue balls is a fake pile of bullshit that boys use to guilt-trip women into fucking them. I get... ugly."

"You shut up," I demanded. "You're never ugly!"

She suddenly looked stern as hell. Scary even. Deadly serious. "Belle, honey, I need you to listen to me. This is actually serious, okay?"

"I'm... Yeah. Okay. Sorry."

She licked her lips and patted my hand. "I love you so, so, so, so much, and I would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable, but this is something I can't play around about, okay? I make... bad decisions when I'm - Oh, shit. When I'm aroused."

"Okay."

She swallowed hard and stared at the table before looking back up and continuing. "It makes me do things I shouldn't. I get careless. Reckless, even. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"I don't know. I think so."

She scooched closer to me, which was reassuring even if I was panicking internally. "I've had to do things a little differently in life. No trips to the beach, the baggy clothes, the locked bathroom doors while I shower." I felt guilty at that last one. "But it's for the best. When I get in the mood, I cross lines."

"Wh-what kind of lines?"

"Belle, honey. All of them."

My heartbeat thundered in my chest and my mouth went dry. This was it. This was my way in. I felt a little ashamed of myself for jumping straight to THAT conclusion, but who could blame me. The thing in her pants was unlike anything I had ever seen, even in the disturbing amount of porn I had watched. I rued my jittery nerves for not letting me take it in fully, but her thing had to be a record breaker. I needed to get my hands on it.

I gulped and met her eye. "I... I think I understand."

"Do you? You're hearing me? I'll say it more plainly if I have to."

"Maybe you should. Just so we're on the same page."

She pursed her lips and steadied herself. "Fuck. Okay. Baby, I need you to understand - if I don't keep myself under control, if I don't take care of my needs and blow off steam, not even..." She paused and swallowed. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"I get it, Mama. It's okay. Really."

"You promise?"

"Yeah. No secrets. We're okay."

She seemed to settle down at that promise and relief crept through the worry stitched across her brow. "Thank you, honey bun. It feels a little gross sometimes."

"Don't worry about it. If I can... I don't know? Help, I guess? Please let me know."

"You can start by finishing your breakfast before it goes cold," she joked.

The syrup on my plate seemed less appetizing all of a sudden, but I'd soldier on just for her. "I think I can handle that."

"Good. And just one more thing I guess."

"Anything."

"I... You did - Ugh. You did feel it, right? When you were kissing me a minute ago?"

"Uh huh."

"So, um, I kinda need to..."

There was no way. There was simply no fucking way. This couldn't even be real life anymore! I pinched my thigh under the table to make sure I wasn't dreaming. In what fucking world was I seriously having a conversation with my own mother about her need to sneak away and... jack off?!

"Go! Mama, seriously, don't even worry about it."

"Gosh, are you sure? It's not urgent or anything, I can take care of it later or something."

I waved her off. "No, go do your thing girl, I got you." I winced inside. I never talked to her like that.

Even so, she stood from the table and it was impossible not to notice the long, heavy ridge forming under the fabric of her robe. She leaned in and kissed my forehead like this was the most normal conversation in the world. Just two gal pals chatting about nothing at all. No giant cocks or rabid mothers here. No way, not in this house.

"Thanks cutiepie," she said as she turned to leave. "I'll be back down in a bit. I'm gonna freshen up and maybe we can go to the mall later? Does that sound fun?"

I replied out loud, but she was already halfway up the stairs. Her bedroom door closed softly, and I was left with nothing but cold pancakes and tepid eggs to keep me company.

*******

The path forward was crystal clear to me. The last twelve hours had been more emotionally tumultuous than anything I had ever lived through, but I was out the other side of the hardest stretch with no scars to show. If anything, chance and fortune had brought me closer to my goals than I ever could have planned for.

Truthfully, I was starting to realize that the fantasy of it all was keeping me afloat this whole time. I still jiggled the bathroom door handle not because I expected anything to happen, but because it felt naughty to try. The stolen underwear was a risky thrill, but it was hardly the ultimate sin that I supposedly yearned for.

Now though? Now it was in reach. No, not even that - the whole business lay in the palm of my hand. All I had to do was curl my fingers and take it all. The idea suddenly scared the shit out of me. There was, for the first time ever, an actual, real, plausible chance that I'd be able to affect serious sexual contact with my own mother.

I never fucked myself harder in my whole life.

Eventually, Mama finished with her 'self care' and we headed out for some errands together. She picked up on my absentmindedness almost at once, and I knew I was stuck in my own head. She gave me space though, queen that she is, and let me stare out the car window and mull everything over. We went through the motions of picking up what we needed, window shopping for things we'd never need, and making the same idle chit-chat we always had, but she finally prodded me out of my ruminating silence on the drive home.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said as we came to a traffic light.

"This'll cost you at least two."

"Deal, what a bargain."

I had to pick my words carefully. I needed to know more about how her stuff worked if I was ever going to stand a chance with her. I kept flip-flopping between whether I even had the guts to go through with any of it, but the first step needed to be evening the playing field.

"How do I know when you need space? Like, now that I know about it, I feel like I need to be more aware or something."

She smiled over the steering wheel and reached over to lace her fingers in with mine. "It's not that bad. I don't want you to think that I'm a danger to the community or anything." She laughed abruptly. "I mean, I usually just need a few minutes in the evening to myself and that's enough. It's not even every day. Not anymore."

"It used to be worse?"

"Oh God, yeah. I'd be at it all the time. Shit, I remember one time..."

"Yeah?"

"I shouldn't," she grinned. "You're still my daughter."

"I wanna know."

"Let's just say that I used to keep Ruby very busy."

Ruby. Somehow the notion that I had another mother out there kept slipping my mind. "Was she the last person that you were with?"

"She was the last big one," she replied wistfully. "But I dated a bit. You were the priority, so I don't know that you ever would have picked up on it. It's not like I brought them home."

"All women?"

"Mostly."

"Some guys though?"

She shrugged. "One or two."

"Interesting."

The light turned green and we carried on. "Is it?"

"Mama, you gotta remember, I'm finding a lot of new stuff out here. Yesterday you were a presumably straight single mother with a vagina. Today though? Everything is all upside down for me. It's a lot."

She glanced over sympathetically. "I know. I'm sorry. Are you upset about any of it? I really wrestled with whether to tell you everything or not."

"I get it. There's pros and cons like anything else. I guess I kinda forced your hand."

She turned towards our street. "You certainly did."

"And are you upset?"

She focused on the road a little too long. "No."

"You are!"

"No, I'm... I'm not."

"There's something though!"

"It's just... I guess I just don't know what to think. That's all."

Play it cool now, play it real cool. I had to be savvy about this; I couldn't show my hand too early, not while I was still trying to face the opportunities ahead of me.

"I was curious. That's all. One time, a few years ago, I wanted to grab a towel while you were in there but the door was locked. I just thought it was odd and it just turned into a little game after that. After a while I just got curious. I felt like there must be something you didn't want me to see."

I don't know if she bought it, but she took my confession in stride. "That's fair. It makes sense."

"My friends had all seen their moms change and stuff. It just made me wonder why I hadn't."

She wheeled us into the driveway. "I guess you have your answer now, hey?"

"Yeah. And... sorry. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy."

"No, but I'm glad you did. It was the kick in the ass I needed to get everything off my chest. I should have done it years ago, and I do hope you know that I..."

"Enough," I cut her off. "No apologizing, 'kay? You made life cool for me and I love you to death. I know you just did what was right for both of us."

I got another one of those rare looks. I was getting rather good at eliciting them. Fuck, she was so pretty. "Thanks, kiddo. You're the best."

"Come on, let's get inside."

She sighed. "Sadly, I got a text from Max while we were in the grocery store; I've gotta run into the office for a few minutes. I won't be long, but you run in and I'll be back shortly."

"Alright, but don't be too long. I'll miss you."

I accepted a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you too, baby."

I watched her drive off and let myself into the house. Even the brief contact from her pretty, pouty lips had my pussy aching for a bit of abuse, but I could do that while she was home. There were much more important ways to use an hour of alone time. I needed to find out where she was cumming.

The cock that I had seen was soft, but it was easily bigger than the couple guys I had been with at their hardest. My memory of the little glimpse was hazy, but I was fairly sure that the heavy balls tucked behind her massive tool were equally stupid-sized. Yes, I know cum volume doesn't really have anything to do with ball size or cock girth, but I had to believe that a hyper-sexed womanly combo like hers must be blasting some serious loads.

I hurried up to her bedroom.

Everything was the same as it usually was. Her large bed had the covers pulled up and the pillows neatly stacked like always. The dressers and drawers were all just as she liked. Her clothes were hung in the closet with care. There was nothing to indicate that a woman was jerking herself off in here at all.

"What about..."

I remembered Jeremy, a loser I had briefly dated two summers prior. He was a sufficient lover and a gifted munch, but his habitual need to jack himself off right before I got there led to more than a few impotent disappointments. He said that it helped him to not bust as fast, but there was no point if it took him an hour to get hard again when I got to his house. I always knew he had cum already because he'd shove his crusty socks into the bottom of the hamper. Maybe Mama did the same.

"Come on, come on, lemme feel that..."

I rummaged around, elbow deep in her laundry basket, as I waited to feel something gooey kiss my fingertips. Nothing. Just the same pile of dirty clothes she always had. I nicked a pair of new dirty undies and stuffed them in my pocket for later before carrying on my search. Then I spotted it. A little trash can, shoved deep in one corner of her big closet. That had to be it!

"Oh... fuck..." I gasped, tipping the lid open. "Jesus fucking..."

The smell rolled over me in an instant. Stale paper towels hardened by load after load of hot jizz filled the little bin, so pungent that I almost coughed as their reek hit my nostrils. The need for a lid was immediately evident - I would have smelled this little bucket of lady-sludge from down the hall if she left it open. Once the musty odor had settled into my airways, I realized with a sincere thrill that it was oddly... delicious? It definitely wasn't the kind of thing you'd bottle up and sell as perfume, but it had this foul allure that made for an intoxicating stench. I needed to confiscate a few handfuls.

"Oh!" I exclaimed as I reached for a discarded wad at the top of the pile. This one was cold and wet. Fresh. It might have been the one she blew into this morning. "Come to mama," I purred as I dragged it free, shaking a few sticky clingers off as I withdrew it. Several of the errant passengers tumbled to the ground with wet impacts of their own. These were all fresh.

"Good LORD," I panted. She must have filled five or six full-sized sheets of paper towel that morning! I'd never known a guy to make more than a modest mess in a single tissue, but this was a real treasure trove. "Is this all from today?!" I asked the empty room.

I cupped my haul of soiled napkins in my hands and inspected them closely. Most of her semen had been absorbed into the fibers already, but I could see a few gloopy globs still clinging to their cloudy form.

Obviously I stuck my tongue out and licked it. Duh.

Fucking hell, but it was so good! I mean, it was definitely cum, there was no doubt about that. I told myself that I was just in love and all jizz tastes like salty dude-sap, but this load hadn't come from a guy. No, this came from Mama, and that made it the yummiest cum I had ever tasted.

I closed the closet door and pulled my pants off, plopping down onto the floor as I pulled the little wastebin closer to me. I simply had to fucking cum, and I wanted the full sensory overload experience; I wanted to bathe in the smell, taste the acrid tang, see the evidence of her lust in my hand. I wanted it all.

I was soaked before my fingers ever grazed my clit, and my first orgasm hardly waited for me to get settled into position; I was squealing gleefully with Mama's discarded jizz rag held against my nose in seconds. I needed more. I needed to breath it in. I needed to taste it while I came.

I lapped at the wettest rag hungrily as I slipped one, then two, fingers into myself. I was fully on my back in her little walk-in, desperately pumping in and out of myself while I sucked the moisture out of one tissue, then another, then a third as I kept on cumming. The thought that I looked entirely deranged crossed my mind, but I swatted it away and huffed another stinking wad of old nut.

I'm not usually one to count my orgasms, but I was so lost in my sick appetites that they just started to roll together in a continuous, crashing tide. An insistent little twitch of urgent anxiety raised its hand politely in the back of my mind and gently suggested that maybe it'd be a bad idea to get caught in a pile of discarded cum rags if Mom came home.

"F-fuck," I gasped, letting my arms fall to my sides while I came back down to earth. I needed a minute to recover, but it was high time that I moved on too.

I scooped the mess I had made back into the garbage, set the lid back on top, and shoved it back into its corner. My hand was on the closet doorknob as I prepared to make my exit, but tragedy struck first.

The front door opened. The security system beeped.

"Honey bun? I'm home!"

"Fucking... fuck!" I spat urgently. My moment of hesitation cost me everything; I might have had time to leave and get somewhere less suspicious if I had acted quicker, but I panicked; I was too slow. The closet wasn't an option - she might come up to change into comfy clothes. No, I was too late. I needed to be somewhere else. I needed to be nowhere.

I watched her feet step into the bedroom from my hiding place under the bed. It was a tight squeeze, but luckily I hadn't inherited much of her tits or ass. She called out again and left briefly.

"Belle, honey, are you home?"

I held my breath and tried to imagine a world where this turned out to be anything other than a disaster. I'd need an iron-clad excuse for not responding to her call. Maybe I could slip out the window and pretend I was coming home from a walk. It was a long drop from the top floor, but I reckoned I could make it. I braced myself to slither out from under the bed, but my timing continued to betray me.

Anna's feet stepped back into the room and she shut the door behind her. I heard the little snick of the lock as she sighed wearily.

"Alright you greedy bitch," she said quietly. "Settle down."

Her skirt hit the ground, followed by her panties, and I nearly gasped as she stepped out of both. The bed groaned above me as she settled her weight onto the mattress. She shuffled around, and her bra shortly joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor with a heavy slap.

"Fuck, that's better," she said in breathy tones of relief. "Now come on big girl, let's get you taken care of. Oh. Ohhhhh yes," she hissed. "F-fuck that's... Oh, shit, that's so good. Ahh!"

The awkward tangle of emotional responses my brain tried to spin up was overwhelming. Horror, for the fact that my mother was masturbating a few inches above my head. Double horror, because I was a nasty little freak for being turned on by this. Electric thrill. Heartswelling affection. Desperate longing. It was a little much.

"God, that's so sensitive," she gasped. "Needy little slut today, huh?"

The fact that she carried on a dialogue with her cock was so oddly endearing to me. I liked to psyche myself up in the heat of the moment too, but I could almost picture her staring at the pulsing meat in her hands and admonishing it playfully, like she did to me when I complained about eating vegetables. This woman was honestly way too cute for her own good. My pussy was well-used and a little sore already, but I just couldn't pass up a chance to rub again; I carefully shoved my hand under myself and started to grind.

I hadn't seen her cock hard yet, much to my everlasting chagrin, but there was no doubt in my mind that the thing was approaching fucked-up levels of size. My favourite porn star, a muscle-bound idiot called Rocko Polo, was purportedly eleven inches hard. Based on the few images I had seen of him soft, I knew that my Mama easily eclipsed him. I hesitated to guess. I had never even seen one bigger than seven, or maybe eight inches, up close. This woman was going to ruin me. Just the thought nearly made me cum.

Anna continued moaning and stroking above me, cooing softly and intermittently chastising herself for getting too close. The routine was patently adorable; she see-sawed between "Good girl, God that's such a pretty girl," and "Not so fast, you greedy slut. It's too soon!" I knew it was too risky to bring myself right to orgasm, but I edged myself right to the brink of ruin several times while she pump, pump, pumped away above me. Her breathing and the rocking of the bedframe quickened and I knew she was getting close to the main event - I was so dangerously close to cumming that I had to force myself to move my hand away. It was all so hot, but this under-the-bed trick was too precious to waste; I would absolutely need to do this again. Her gasping moans turned to whoreish, mewling pleading, and I waited for her to explode with baited breath.

"H-here it... comes... Oh, f-fuck. Oh fuck, c-come to mama. That - Oh my god, oh my god - that's it. Yes please! Yes, please, baby. Pleasepleaseplease fucking cum for... UGH! UGHH! OH FFF-"

The whole bed jolted as she writhed in beautiful agony, her hips presumably bucking with the effort of driving her cock into her fist with each terrifying spurt. The impact of her body humping upward and crashing back to the mattress was intense; I could only imagine what it was going to be like once I was on the receiving end of that passion.

"Oh, Mama," I gasped as her tortured groans carried on well past the point of reason. I wanted to cry from jealousy. I should have been up there.

Like all good things, her heroic nut finally came to an end after what felt like two whole minutes. The warm smell of salty chlorine started to diffuse itself through the room and I realized that she must have just been blasting herself freely - I'd only seen her feet as she walked in, but I didn't hear her tearing any paper towel off anywhere. Was she laying up there soaked in her own jizz? My mouth watered.

Then a pair of my own cotton panties hit the ground a few inches from my head, sopping wet and sodden with gluey gobs of pearly cum. They were utterly fucking ruined. Not one thread was still dry. I had to bite the back of my hand to keep from crying out. She wanted me! She wanted ME!

"God, baby," Mama panted. "That was... so good. Fuck."

I heard her groan as though stretching after another minute, capped with a breathy laugh of disbelieving clarity, like she had just unburdened herself of an immense weight. Her heels planted on the carpet next to the bed as she sat at the edge of the mattress and wiggled her toes. My cum-sokaed undies lay forgotten next to her right foot. Mama kept humming little satisfied noises in the back of her throat as though she'd woken up from a week-long nap feeling utterly rejuvenated.

"Oh, whew. That was nice," she said to herself. "Wouldn't you agree? Yeah you would, dirty girl. Come on, back to jail with you."

I watched Mom stand up and pad over to her dresser where she pulled her top drawer open and rummaged around for a fresh pair of those God-awful panties she kept wearing. If all went well, we'd be burning the lot of them in the backyard together in no time. She leaned over and put one foot through, then the other and hiked them up.

She tutted her tongue. "Oh come on now, get in there. Just... Oh, don't be like that. Get... Go in... Ugh! Such a little asshole sometimes, you know that?"

Her cock wasn't playing nice it seemed.

"Fine, but then we're done, got it?" She returned to the bed and sat at the foot of it. "The things I do for you, I swear."

It took another minute for me to process what I was hearing, but once it clicked there was no doubt - Mama was sucking herself off. Wet little pops and smacks of her lips, intercut by the unmistakably muffled moans that only a full mouth can produce filled the room. I had seen videos of people blowing themselves before; I knew it was possible even for average-sized cocks, but this was no ordinary length of prick meat. This was my Mama. I wondered if she even had to do more than tilt her head forward to get the thing past her full, pretty lips. I tried so hard to picture it; in my head, she had her eyes closed, imagining it was my mouth on her tip, bobbing and sucking while she cradled her fat balls and massaged her shaft with her other hand. Between the image I conjured up in my head and the sloppy, sucking squelches of her slobbery self-love, I just couldn't stand the thought of leaving my pussy neglected any longer. If Mama was going to cum again, so was I.

I knew there was a chance I'd be caught, but my horny-brain had taken complete control of me, and I was well on my way to another thunderous orgasm by the time my mother's toes started to wriggle and curl. I heard her first "MmMM MM!!" as creamy spurts started jetting into her mouth, and my own cum started to crack through my body as I realized she was going to drink down her own load. I could tell by the way that she was gulping that this batch was thick; she swallowed noisily as her Mama-shake slid down her throat in heavy mouthful after heavy mouthful. By then, I was grinding my teeth together so hard that I risked discovery by the sound of cracking molars alone; I squeezed my thigh muscles tightly and did my best to cum quietly. Mission mostly accomplished; Mama gulped down the last of her creamy snack and let herself fall backward onto the bed with a wild little burst of joyous laughter.

"So dumb," she announced to the ceiling before letting out a small, chaste burp. "God, so silly. Gah. Oh, whoa."

I wanted a cuddle. Even being parasocially involved in her sex, coupled with the shocking revelation of my own soiled underwear still cooling on the floor next to me, I was feeling oddly romantic. Needy, even. The temptation to crawl out and reveal myself to demand snuggles was high. I wasn't stupid though. It wasn't the right time.

After a minute of recomposing herself, Mom finally sat up and got dressed. Her cock, sated into submission at long last, cooperated with her attempts to imprison it again. I cursed inwardly as her fingers appeared briefly to pluck my undies off the ground before she made her way over to the laundry hamper. She hummed a little melody as she scooped it up and left the room.

I gave myself a count of twenty and slid out from under the bed - it'd be easy enough to pretend I was coming in from a walk if she was in the basement putting a load on. I darted back to the closet to fetch one last prize from her bin of discarded jizz cloths and slipped out of the room. Tom Cruise would have no choice but to cast me in the next Mission Impossible movies.

"There you are, baby," Mom said as she came up the stairs with an empty basket under her arm. "I didn't know where you'd gone."

"Just thought I'd take a walk," I said, smiling up from a magazine I was pretending to read on the couch.

"Ah, nice. It's a beautiful day for it, huh?"

"Sure is!"

"Oh, hey," she said, remembering something suddenly. "I got something for you. Hang tight."

I waited as she fetched her purse and pulled something out of it for me.

"What's this?" I asked.

"That," she said as she handed me a small photo, "Is Ruby. Your other Mom."

Ruby. God, I still get a little emotional thinking about that first look at her. It was just a little polaroid, but the woman smiling back at me was so obviously my parent that I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. She had my eyes. Or, to be precise, I had hers. And her chin. She was slim and blonde, with dark eyes and a generous smile that propped her rosy cheeks up adorably. She wasn't built as thickly as Mama, but she still had a pretty figure. She smiled out of the photo at me from what appeared to be a booth in a pub some twenty years ago. Her tummy swelled with the early signs of pregnancy. With me.

"Thank you, Mama," I nearly choked out, staring at the now-treasured photo with something wet welling up in my eyes. "I love it."

Life is just the strangest thing sometimes.

*******

The next week was relatively pedestrian. I made trips to the cum bin in my mother's closet as often as I dared, sometimes just to close the door and hot-box myself in with the smell of her musty lust, but I was cautious not to make my long-game too obvious all at once.

Anna's appetites were more obvious now that I knew what to look for; I knew which trips to her bedroom or bathroom were actually naps and showers, and I knew which ones were for necessary relief. It was also clear to me that the dangerous levels of horny she had warned me about were no more threatening than my own lapses of judgement. I had imagined her as some sex-crazed zombie roaming the streets with heat-seeking vision intent on finding warm, wet holes to fuck. Far from it, the closest thing I noticed that week was a rosy flush in her cheeks as a well-developed woman leaned out of a Starbucks drive-thru window to hand Anna her coffee.

"Have a nice day," she told Mama.

"Y-you as well," she said, flummoxed as she stared directly into the barista's deep cleavage.

She disappeared into her bedroom moments after we got home.

Her triggers were almost endless, and I was collecting a weighty body of evidence about her preferences. Tits seemed to work wonders on her, especially perky, shapely ones. Thank Christ I had that going for me. Her eyes couldn't help but wander for almost any ass in a pair of yoga pants either, so I started kicking each day off with some squats and lunges in my bedroom in the vain hope that I could whip my little butt into a bubblier offering. I knew it'd take time, but Mama's cock was all the motivation I needed.

My body was fine; I had no issue getting attention with it when I wanted to, but I wanted Anna rabid for me. I wanted to break her. I didn't need to go all out, but dialing things up by ten measly percent would start to water the seeds that her own forbidden desire had already planted.

Friday rolled around and we both started getting ready for our ritual date night trip to Frederico's, a joint we had been eating at for years. Mom was looking forward to the linguine, but I had a more deviant craving that night.

She was in her room, perched at her vanity and touching up her makeup while her phone played a little bit of music for her to sing along to. The angle of the mirror meant that she'd spot me passing by in the hallway, so I used the opportunity to put the squeeze on her a little bit.

"Shoot," I exclaimed just loudly enough to be heard from my room. "Forgot my shirt in the dryer."

The bait was set. Anna ate it up. "Want me to run down and grab it for you, babe?"

"No," I called back. "I can get it. Thank you though!"

I wiggled for myself in my own mirror, ensuring I had enough skin showing to fluster my poor, unsuspecting Mama. I didn't have much in the way of really nice underwear since the boys I went for were never picky about things like matching sets, but I did have this one turquoise combo that I broke out whenever I wanted to shoot my shot at someone a little hotter. Lacey, full back panties and a matching bra that gave my soft tits a nice, plump shape. It'd be perfect.

I walked past Mom's door with a sidelong glance to make sure she had seen me. The way she was paused with her lipstick held perfectly still was a sure sign of my success. I doubled back, pretending I had forgotten something, then marched past again a second later. I was shockingly wet by the time I actually got to the laundry room for my shirt - I dipped one finger into myself and sucked it clean playfully. It was such a rush to tease her like this. The whole careful dance of risk and reward was intoxicating.

The load was still a little damp-feeling, so I sighed and set the timer for a few minutes of warm air to freshen everything up. As you might imagine, being horny near a vibrating laundry machine was just too juicy to pass up on; I pressed myself against the corner of the rumbling dryer and started to grind away.

One toe-curling, breathtaking cum later, I plucked my shirt out of the machine and made my way upstairs. I pulled the warm top over my head and decided to crank up the heat a little. I was still bottomless, and I wanted to provoke a response.

"Does this look like it shrunk?" I asked, hovering in the doorway of Mom's room.

Mama turned in her seat with a makeup brush in hand and looked me up and down. If she liked the view, she was playing it cool so far. "I don't know, hun, why?"

"It just feels a little tighter than usual. I don't know, I'm worried I fucked it up in the dryer."

She continued to appraise me with a mask of calm serenity. "Maybe a little. Looks good to me though, I like that one on you."

I took the bottom hem in my hand and looked down at it, hoping she'd follow suit and stare at something closer to my waist. "Maybe it's time to get rid of it. It's starting to look a little ratty."

"If you think so," Mama replied warmly. "We can go pick some stuff up tomorrow if you want?"

"Yeah? I'd love that." I deployed my dirtiest trick and tugged it back over my head abruptly, not giving her time to look away. You better believe I lingered long enough to give her something to think about before jerking it over my head completely. "So sad. Farewell, shirt. We barely knew ye."

I caught Mama licking her lips as her eyes snapped back to my face. "Nothing lasts forever," she professed. "I... think I might change too. Do you mind shutting the door, honey bun?"

And now for the meanest move of all. "Oh, come on, you look great!"

"I think I want to do pants instead of this skirt," she said in a rush.

"Nonsense, no, I love that one on you!" I lied. It was far too bohemian for her ample hips to be appreciated the way they needed to be. "I'm just gonna pull something on super quick, I'll be thirty seconds, then we can go!"

I had put a fork in her road; she needed to tell me that she was gonna take a minute to herself, which would obviously put her perilously close to admitting she wanted me, or she would need to bite her tongue and suffer through the rest of the date with my tight body summersaulting through her mind. Both options got me fucked up, so I really didn't care what she chose.

"Okay," she said after a beat. "But be quick."

There's my girl. "You got it." I scampered off to pull on some leggings and the tank top that offered maximum boobage. Oh, and a little cardigan thing so that she wouldn't get too suspicious.

Dinner was nice. Mama told me that she had been talking to Ruby and the two of them were hatching a plan to get her over for a visit from Vancouver. She worked as a pilot, of all things, so it was starting to look like we'd just kidnap her during a layover next time she was working near Toronto.

"She said she was going to talk to her scheduler and see if she can get more trips out this way," Anna said as I forked lasagna into my mouth.

"'At's Great," I said with a full mouth.

"Belle, honey, chew with your mouth closed. Jesus, who raised you?"

I gave her a cheesy grin and swallowed. "You did, lady."

"God help me," she sighed dramatically before we both giggled. "She might be able to get here in as little as two weeks. Isn't that exciting?"

"Uh huh!"

She took a wistful sip of her wine. "I'm really looking forward to seeing her."

"How long has it been?"

"Not too long. I saw her last year around Christmas."

"When you were New York for that confer... Oh."

She arched her eyebrows coyly and hid her smirk. "We still talk a fair bit. It's not like she up and died or anything."

"Do you still love her?"

She fixed her lips in a tight line and mulled it over. "Yeah, I think I probably do."

My tummy fluttered with an entirely juvenile flock of butterflies. I felt like a kid in one of those asinine Disney movies who thought they could get their parents back together by slashing their tires while they were in divorce court or something. I for sure needed therapy. Probably. Definitely.

"I can't wait to meet her," I said. "I hope she likes me."

"Oh she's gonna love you, you're gonna be the best of friends."

"You really think so?"

"Definitely."

"What do you like about her? What's she like?"

Anna's eyes glassed over and she fell backward through her long memories; I watched as she dredged up decades-old love and friendship and passion. She smiled longingly as she answered. "She's just so... good. I think that was what got me. She was kind and genuine, and she had this beautiful way of making people feel seen. Not even just me, everyone. She was the kind of person you only find once."

"Is that why you never tried again? After, I mean."

She looked personally attacked. "Who said I never tried again?!"

"I mean, I know you said you dated a little, but..."

"Relax," she laughed before I could blabber in defence too hard. "Honestly, it might be. Nobody really compared to her. Everyone either just wanted me for my... differences, or it was too much to accept."

"Not for Ruby?"

"Nope. Not even a little bit. We were just perfect for each other. Plus she was easy on the eyes, so it worked out for me."

"Mama!"

She scoffed. "I like what I like, what can I say?"

The waiter appeared at our table and offered us dessert; I noticed Mom's eyes flick to my chest at the word, and had to hide my grin with another mouthful of pasta.

"I think we're okay, just a bill thanks."

He nodded and dipped away again.

"You wanna do anything after this?" I asked her, stretching my shoulders suggestively to put my boobs right where she could appreciate them.

It was impossible to miss the meaning of her hard swallow. "You know what, babe, I'm actually beat. Work had me running off my feet all week. Is it okay if we just head home? I'm dying to get cleaned up and put something comfy on."

Wicked little mix. It was validating as fuck to know that my tank top was doing its job. "Sure, maybe we can watch a movie?"

She smiled and drained her glass. "Sure, sweetheart, that sounds great."

*******

Operation Bare Some Skin was a resounding success. I spent that weekend and the following few days carefully tempting Mama Bear with little jabs of temptation. I wasn't going to jump right to dropping my towel in front of her, but who said my door needed to be closed when I was getting my jammies on at night? And what was the harm in heading to the shower in my undies?

Speaking of underwear, I needed to up my game. I nearly shit myself at the prices on Victoria's Secret, but some cursory research and a recommendation from my friend Paige set me up for success with a small local chain.

"Ohhhh, girl," Paige teased over the phone. "Tryin' to get some, huh?"

"Shut up," I laughed. "Maybe."

"Who is it? Guy or girl?"

"None of your business."

"Girl then, got it."

"Fuck you!" I howled. "You're such a creep."

"Belle, come on; you're my only bi friend. I'm allowed to be nosey! Cough it up, who is she? Do I know her?"

"How am I supposed to know who you know?"

"You're an actual butthole," she chuckled. "Fine, keep your secrets. Check that store out though, they have some super hot stuff. I got this set from there for our anniversary - Oh my god, Jeremy almost lost his mind."

"That's because you have a fat ass; Jeremy would hump a tree if it had cheeks like yours."

"Awhhh, thank you," she said in mock-sweetness. "I know you're trying to be a bitch, but I've seen the women you go for - if you think I've got a nice ass, then I've got no choice but to believe you. Listen, I gotta run. I want details though; don't be a little shit about this forever, 'kay?"

"Fine," I whined. "I'll see you later. Love ya."

The website had a section called After Hours that was just perfect. Most of it was more ambitious than I needed right then, but I added a few optimistic picks to my cart anyway. What I really needed was cuter basics, stuff I could plausibly wear day to day and still drive my mom's cock wild with. A black set, a red set, and a white set joined the more pornographic 'special occasion' options, and I tossed a few skimpy thongs into the mix to hit their free shipping threshold. One eye-wattering credit card bill and two days later, I had my order.

"Whatcha got, baby love?" Anna asked as I shlepped my box of goodies into the house on Friday night.

"I needed some new clothes," I told her. "Underwear, specifically. Mine are all so frumpy. I haven't bought new stuff in ages."

"You and me both," she said, sliding some veggies off her cutting board into a pot. "They just don't make cute stuff for girls like me."

I was so stupid. I had spent this whole time assuming that she wore those hideous granny panties because she wasn't interested in anything sexier. It had never dawned on me that she literally didn't have better options. My heart broke for her a little bit.

"Surely someone does!"

She shrugged. "I'm old. I don't mind the comfy stuff these days."

I dropped my box and stomped over to her indignantly. "Listen," I said, taking her face in both my hands and pointing her head towards me. She let out a little squeak as I manhandled her. "You are not old. You're beautiful and young and wonderful."

"I'm 43," she laughed despite my clamped grip on her cheeks.

"That's not old. You're too young to be wearing comfy panties. Besides... you can't let Ruby see you in those things."

"Hun, my cheeks..."

"Sorry," I muttered, letting her go. "I mean it though. You need something cuter before she gets here."

"Baby, I don't even know if she wants..."

"Shush, you're not fooling me with anything, little Miss 'Business Trip to New York'. I know you two must be... you know."

She blushed and pretended to stir the pot in front of her. "We'll see."

"We'll see about new underwear or we'll see about you and Ruby?"

"We'll see," she laughed.

I let out an exasperated moan and stomped off to try my haul on.

Is it vain to say that I turned myself on? I don't really care if it is - I looked fucking sexy. Everything fit me like a glove; the bras all crammed my tits together in the most mouthwatering way, giving my modest chest all the allure and shape I could have asked for. I lost myself in the exercise of pulling each pair of panties up slowly, luxuriating in the way they felt on my skin and hugged my ass. I bit my lip in tortured thrill at the way every thong's barely-there strings of lace or ribbon felt lying against my bare asshole. The adorable little scraps of fabric disappearing between my cheeks made me feel...

"Belle, honey, dinner's ready!"

"Fuck," I cursed, still in the act of admiring myself in the mirror. "Coming, just a sec!"

I threw some sweatpants and a sweater over what I happened to have on and joined Anna for dinner. It was hard not to look at her with open desire as we ate, but I think I managed to keep things level. Something about knowing that I could have completely overwhelmed her senses with the nonsense I had on under my clothes was going straight to my head. Power really does corrupt.

*******

The next morning was a bit of a dud. Mom had to run into work to get some signatures from a client so that they could close on their new house, which meant that I had the run of the place for the morning. I briefly considered running it back on my 'under the bed' play, but there was no telling when she'd be home and I had plenty of time to make my mind up about that anyway. I opted to run the batteries out on my vibrator while she got ready instead, only climbing out of bed once I heard the front door shut behind her.

I decided there was no harm in getting nosey. It had worked out well for me so far.

Nibbling on a crusty piece of toast, I wandered into Mama's bedroom again. Everything was just as neat and tidy as ever, and I feared that the most enticing secrets had already revealed themselves. After all, how do you top a literal cum dumpster in the closet? Speaking of which, I fetched a few new discarded tissues to keep myself busy with. Surprisingly, none of the batch was fresh - I had a hard time believing she would leave the house without relieving herself. I fiddled toast crumbs off my fingers and got to work.

Almost immediately, her morning's victim revealed itself to me. There, half hidden under a single layer of dirty clothes, was another pair of my panties - sticky, well-used, and pregnant with the cooling jizz that my mother had basted them with. Unlike the stale, crusty tissues and paper towels in her secret waste basket, the batter on my panties was still somewhat warm. She must have busted and run out the door immediately.

Fuck, it was so tasty. I was already in the habit of stuffing my own panties into my mouth for a little variety during my solo sessions, but sucking Mama's excessive load off my own underwear was far too hot not to enjoy naked. Without so much as another thought, I stripped myself down and climbed onto her bed with the sopping fabric snatched between my teeth like a cat carrying a dead mouse home.

I sniffed deeply, letting the stink get me high on perverse excitement. The taste on my tongue made my pussy flutter and ache. She'd picked a pink cotton pair for her masturbatory play time and the fabric had soaked up a generous amount of her spunk. I stuffed the whole wad into my mouth and punished my pussy like a possessed punching bag for the next half hour. It wasn't even about cumming, I just wanted to drown in the perversion of it all for a while.

With my eyes closed and my fingers working their magic on my clit, I let everything wash over me. The cum-drenched panties that my loving, doting mother had blasted her pent-up jizz into. The fact that she very-likely wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. The absurd reality of the bitch-breaking battering ram she shouldn't even have. The way my body looked in the skimpy outfits I had bought just to drive her wild in, and the likely look of rabid, feral lust she was sure to give me when I finally played my hand. Ruby - just the mere thought of her. All three of us together in a tangled nest of pure, illicit lust. I brayed like a mule while I came, writhing in horrific, debased levels of pleasure that I never thought I could achieve.

Too late, I felt an odd, urgent pressure building inside myself, like those last few seconds of rushing to the washroom for a piss after a night spent drinking. I couldn't stop rubbing - the soaked panties in my mouth were still yielding their delicious, salty bounty and I was too close to cumming again to stop now. I had to hold it, I could pee after, just a few more seconds and I'd be able to...

"OH! F-FUCK!" I shot up and spat the wet panties out of my mouth as the urge to wet myself suddenly disappeared against the backdrop of a drastic, terrifyingly hard orgasm. Only once the static in my brain started to clear did I realize what had happened to me.

The duvet was soaked. Like... utterly. My mind was too fuzzy to conjure up a name for what I'd done, but eventually I caught my breath and came to my senses. They say there's a first time for everything, but this was not a convenient way to find out I was a squirter.

"God damn it," I panted. Every muscle in my body felt like jell-o, and I feared that the idiotic half-grin would never wipe itself off my face, but the functional part of my brain wrested just enough of my senses into gear and I got down to the business of stripping her duvet cover off.

Mama bought the lie that I just wanted to wash my bedding, and that I had only thrown hers in with it to make a full load.

*******

Mom told me that plans to have Ruby visit for a weekend were nearly finalized the next morning.

"Oh gosh," I said over coffee. "I'm getting so nervous."

"Maybe you two should just video call each other? You know, meet before you meet?"

"I kinda like the idea of doing it cold. It's scarier, but it's more... I don't know. Special?"

Mama sat down on the couch next to me with a coffee of her own, wearing a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt just like me. Sunday mornings were for comfort. "I love that. Shit, I don't know if I'm gonna be able to handle seeing you two together for the first time. Are you gonna be totally grossed out if I cry?"

"Don't cry!" I pleaded. "Then I will too!"

"Oh, we definitely can't have that," she teased.

I was buoyed up by a little wave of excitement that continued to make my heart swell every time Ruby came up. Even the chance that she might somehow complicate my ambitions with Mama were consistently eclipsed by my desire to meet her. I took it as a sign that I wasn't completely broken. Then I noticed the lump running along Mama's thigh and the urge to be a little shit disturber returned in full force. I wondered for the hundredth time how I had ever managed to miss the girthy lump in her pants and skirts for so many years. I was sure she probably tucked carefully or something, but still... it was a lot of cock meat to hide.

"Are you two gonna want some time alone do you think?"

"Oh I don't think so," she replied. "She's only here for two nights; I want you two to spend as much time together as possible."

"You can though, if you want. I don't mind making myself scarce for a few hours. Go on, ask her out or something. I know you want to."

She wrangled a little smirk and pretended to look at something on TV. "We'll see. Maybe."

"Come on! You have to. You love each other, I know it!"

She laughed. "You know that, do you?"

"Uh huh."

"I don't know about that. We don't... we don't talk like that anymore. Truth be told, we don't even call every month."

"But you snuck away with her last year, that has to mean something?"

"That was different."

"How?" I prodded.

"It was just..."

"Physical?"

She nearly snorted her coffee. "Belle!"

"What?! You're a grown woman, she's the mother of your child! If you're not dating, I know you didn't go all the way to New York just to have tea and act cordial. Admit it, you guys banged!"

She waved me off with a scoff. "You're ridiculous."

I shrugged and let it go. "Just sayin'."

We sat quietly and watched the depressing cycle of morbid news stories for a few minutes, occasionally sipping our coffees or shifting in our seats. I grabbed my phone and scrolled. Mama sniffled.

"Maybe just a few hours," she said.

"What?"

"If you're okay with it," she clarified. "Maybe I'll see if she wants to get dinner or something."

"Really?!"

"Yeah," she replied. "She might not want to, but I'll ask."

"Oh, Mama, I think that sounds wonderful! Mama and Ruby, out on the town!"

"IF she says yes."

"If she says yes, of course."

"And just for dinner," she repeated.

"And bangin' after, right."

"No bangin'," she laughed.

"A little bangin', nothing too crazy."

"Belle..."

"Just a quickie. For old times' sake."

"Belle Marie," she scolded louder.

"A little dinner, a bunch of sex, maybe a little sister for me..."

A pillow hit me square in the face as Anna wailed to shut me up and we fell into fits of giggles for several long, happy minutes.

"Oh, lord, I think you got me in the eye," I accused as our levity came to a plateau.

"Sorry," she laughed breathily. "You deserved it though."

"Don't blame the victim!"

"Oh, please," she said as she got up. "You're anything but."

I ogled her thick behind as she swayed past me to refill her cup in the kitchen and licked my lips at the thought of pantsing her right then to dive face-first into her fabulous ass cheeks. It wasn't a serious consideration, just the idle wandering of a terminally horny mind.

"Hey, speaking of Ruby, we should get you some new outfits if you're gonna ask her out. Remember, you said you wanted some new stuff?"

"Oh, I don't know," she sighed, spooning sugar into her cup. "The stuff I have is probably fine."

"Yeah, but don't you wanna look extra good for her?"

She wrinkled her nose in thought. "Hmm. Maybe?"

I spun and leaned over the back of the couch to implore her more directly. "Come onnnnn, you have the body of a literal goddess, I can't let you go out with my mother looking like you just fell out of a van at Woodstock."

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, but it needed to be said. And if you do happen to engage in a little bedroom fun, we absolutely need to do something about the state of your underwear collection."

"What's wrong with my underwear?!"

"I'm not answering that. I'm just not. Don't even make me go there, Agatha Christie. They need to burn in a fire. You're 43, not 90."

"But my... You know..." she said, leaving the 'cock' unspoken.

"A minor detail. Come on, go get dressed. We're going to the mall. Chop chop, little lady!"

*******

She took long enough to get ready that I was sure she'd cranked a quick load out, but I took it as an encouraging sign of her general excitement anyway. If the idea of a dirty rendezvous with Ruby got her fired up, I was happy. Knowing that I could do the same, if not more, at any moment made me giddy.

At the mall, I gave her strict instructions.

"A dress," I said. "A real one. None of this bohemian rhapsody bullshit, got it? You're a woman, and a fox, so you need to dress like one."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You know perfectly well what that means. The tits? Out. The ass? On display. Uh uh, no no," I said when she looked like she might protest, pressing my finger against her pillowy lips. "No arguing. I want it tight, I want it red, and I want it short, got it?"

"And where will you be while I hunt for this non-existent mystery dress?" she asked after swatting my finger away.

As the elevator brought us up to the top level of the mall, my own hunting grounds came into view. "I'll be handling the matter of what goes under that dress. Deal?"

"You don't even know my sizes," she accused, following my eyeline to the lingerie store. "Maybe we should trade?"

It was a fair point. Getting the stats on her bust was one thing, but I had never shopped for panties that you could hide two balls in. There must be a trick to it. "Fine, but I'll be reviewing your work, got it? I mean it, Mama."

She blushed. "Okay. Wish me luck then."

"You won't need it," I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. With that, we both turned to head off in our own directions.

I already knew what I wanted to put her in, so it was only a matter of skimming the racks at two or three stores before I found the perfect dress. It would show off her unfairly sexy shape without clinging or drawing attention to anything I knew she'd put up a fuss about, and the neckline would keep anybody's eyes right where they needed to be - on those heavenly tits. A necklace, some nice earrings, and something to keep the hair off her neck would take Mama from dumpy to dazzling in no time. Not that she's dumpy, she just dresses that way far too often.

I took my bag from the cashier and texted her.

"How's it going?"

"I'm done," she wrote back. "Meet in the food court?"

"Sure."

I was nervous. If she had decided that the exercise wasn't worth the effort or met any resistance at all, I knew she'd shut down and refuse to participate. Imagine my relief, then, at turning the corner to find her perched at a table alone, sipping some whipped bullshit from Starbucks, positively surrounded in bags from not one but THREE lingerie stores.

"Mama!"

She grinned in embarrassed pride. "I, uh, got a little carried away."

The single bag in my hand felt a bit cheap compared to her haul, but I was just too happy to see that she had jumped in with both feet. "How'd you find so much?" I asked as I sat down across from her. "Show me!"

"Later," she said. "I just had to size up on the bottoms and get stuff with enough material to... hold me in. There's a lot cuter stuff available than the last time I shopped for this kind of thing."

"I didn't know you ever had," I admitted. Of course she had. Duh. What is it about mothers that just makes you assume their inert, sexless golems? Even in the face of all the contrary evidence I had collected, I still slipped into seeing her as my plain old Mama sometimes.

"Well sure I have," she replied defensively. "But anyway, let's get home. I want to try some of this on."

"Can I see what you got?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh, honey," she said slowly. "I... Let me think about it, okay?"

I nodded and tried to play it cool, unwilling to let her know that I would lose my everliving mind if she said 'no.'

*******

It took some coaxing, but I got what I wanted. I usually do.

"How's it going in there?" I asked through her bedroom door. She had rushed in there and shut herself away as soon as we got home, promising that she'd let me know if she really, really needed an opinion on anything. That was likely bullshit, so I needed to press the issue a little bit. All in a day's horny work.

"Good," she said.

"Need a hand with anything?"

"I think I'm okay for now."

Persistent bugger. "You sure? Want me to grab the dress?"

I heard her settle onto the bed and imagined she was picking through her pile of newly acquired lace, satin, and cotton for something else to try. "In a few minutes. Still trying to get through all this stuff first."

"Any winners?"

"Uh huh."

It'd take a minor miracle to get the door open at this rate. Still, I wasn't going to get anywhere if I pissed her off, so I told her to let me know if she needed anything and pattered off to my room. Growing bored of waiting, I figured I would get into some of the stuff I had ordered for myself too. You know, just for something to do.

I looked so fucking good. I know it's vapid to admit, but something about the way my body looked in a matching set really did it for me.

"Would you fuck me?" I asked the girl in the mirror in my best Buffalo Bill impression. "I'd fuck me. I'd fuck me hard."

The white combo made me feel innocently sexy. The black made me feel daring and duplicitous. The red felt romantic. I shed the bra altogether and switched into one of the barely-there thongs, an ornate, stingy thing that barely consisted of more than a few grams of delicate ribbon and see-through fabric. It was so skimpy that it bordered on stupidity; I laughed at the spectacle of how little it was actually covering. Truly, it was impossible not to feel like a sex doll in some of the stuff I'd bought. I switched back to my red set of more ordinary stuff, a well-fitted bra and low-riding, cheeky bottoms. Still hot, but less porny.

"Hun," Anna finally called. "Can you come here?"

FUCKING FINALLY! My hand hovered over my shorts and t-shirt as I contemplated pulling them on, but the cat-and-mouse game was starting to wear me out. I felt a gust of daring bravado shiver through me as I decided that today was as good as any to try a more brazen move.

"Coming!"

After a quick stop to compose myself outside her door, I pushed in. She had her back to me and I noticed with a small twitch of disappointment that she had pulled some loose sleeping shorts onto her lower half. She was trying and failing to pluck at the adjustment slide on one bra strap. "Can you just help me with this? I can't get it... Belle, honey!"

"Yeah, let me get that."

"Where'd your clothes go, darling?"

"I was getting changed," I lied, coming up behind her. This was the most of her skin I had enjoyed in a long time; shorts or not, the bare expanse of naked-ish flesh made my heart quicken. I peeked over her shoulder at the welling masses of boob that she'd carefully strapped away in her new bra. Black, clasping in the front, moderate lift. Very sexy.

"You could have finished," she told me. "I just couldn't get the strap long enough."

I fiddled with the thing for her, feeling the heat rise to my face as I stood so close to her wearing so little. "I got it. There, is that better?"

She rolled her shoulders and adjusted herself in the cups. "Yeah, way better. Thank you honey." She turned abruptly and stole my breath away. "How's this?"

How's this? Imagine that; the woman was an equal to any Sports Illustrated model in the last hundred years, all stuffed up into a bra that made her tits look like they belonged in the Guggenheim, and she wanted me to appraise her divine body like a used car salesman? How's this? What a funny lady.

I'm sure I gasped. "Oh, Mama. Wow, you look... perfect."

She blushed. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely! Look at you! No, really, come here." I took her by the shoulders and steered her to face her vanity mirror, making her confront the reality of her own gorgeous body. "See? Stunning!"

I felt her shoulders loosen in my grip as she looked, and further again as she delicately traced the tops of the black cups with her fingers. She cracked a proud smile. "It does look good, doesn't it?"

Personally, I think she looked motorboatable, but I couldn't tell her that. I shuffled forward so that my body was pressed against hers and nested my chin on her shoulder, smiling with her at our reflections in the mirror. If I'd also had a cock like hers, she would have felt it poking her right buttcheek for sure. "Sure does, Mama Bear. You look beautiful."

She appreciated the view for another few seconds with warm, genuine affection before I realized that there was something else creeping in. The flush in her cheeks didn't stay there. She licked her lips slowly, took a deep breath.

"Well, thank you baby. I appreciate the help. I'm just gonna..." she cleared her throat. "I'm gonna finish up in here now if that's okay."

This simply could not be the way things ended. "I wanna see some of the other stuff you got," I insisted. "You don't even have to try them on, just show me what you picked."

She swallowed; I tried to take a sneaky look at the front of her shorts, but there was nothing to see just yet. I imagined a small lump where I wanted a large one to be, but her shorts weren't giving up their secrets.

"Oh, um, it's just more of this kind of thing really. Gosh, I... I got a little carried away." She laid a hand on her cheek and let out a breathy laugh as we turned to look at the ridiculous pile of stuff on the bed.

"Jesus, how much did you spend?!"

"A lot," she gushed. "Like... a lot, a lot."

I let go of her with an effort and went to the bed, praying that she was taking the opportunity to ogle my ass. I made things worse for her by leaning over the mattress slowly to fetch a pair of bottoms. "These are great! I love them. Purple, huh? I like it."

I caught her as I turned back to show her which ones I'd grabbed; she was too slow in snapping her eyes back up to my face. There was no mistaking what she'd been staring at.

"I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I liked them too. They fit good."

"Yeah? I think you should show me."

"Oh, Belle, honey. I don't know."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"It's... What if..."

I held the pair out to her and made my demand as cutely as I could. "Please, Mama? For me?"

She told me that she crossed lines when she got horny, that she couldn't help herself, and she was already using my undies as jizz mops. The least I could do was give her something to think about next time she had a pair of my bottoms held against her spurting cockhead. No, it's unfair of me to act like this was for her - I needed this.

"I... Ugh, okay. Okay, sure."

She took the offered garment and set it on the vanity. It took everything I had not to pant like a fucking dog as she turned her back to me and dropped her shorts. My mouth went bone dry. I didn't know if she had forgotten to ask me to look away, didn't care, or simply assumed a level of decency that I wasn't ready to offer, but I raged internally as I saw that she was already wearing the same kind of stupidly tiny thong I had stripped out of before coming over. Even as she bent to drop her shorts, her fat rear simply devoured the tight string flossing over her asshole. Ask me what colour it was and I'd fail to guess ten times in a row.

She hooked her thumbs through the waist of her panties and I made a small sound in my throat, prompting her to pause and turn her head a quarter of an inch. I thought she might remark, but the moment passed and she started to peel them away. Slowly. So slowly.

That bitch was showing off.

Without realizing it, I stepped back and crashed into a seated position on the end of her bed and she worked her delicious body with a sensual, provocative lack of urgency. I watched with rabid hunger as the strip of thin fabric peeled out from between her buns, slowly curling into vision as she slowly, torturously rocked her hips from one side to the other completely unnecessarily. This was a tease. An utter strip show.

The last bits nestled in the crack of her ass came free and she started to bend at the waist, pumping her bottom back at me from just a few feet away. There was just no helping it; one of my hands slid over the puffy mound tucked away under my own cotton-clad bottoms and I gave myself an indulgent tickle.

She continued to bend, bend, bend over so slowly until my prize, the objects of my dearest, obsessive desire, started to unfurl and flop free from the oversized sling-front of her thong. Heavy, sagging balls descended into view, each one at least the size of a robin's egg and dotted with short bits of hair that hadn't been taken care of in at least a week.

And her cock. Oh, my stars, fucking finally - her cock! I did gasp then, and not quietly, as it fell into sight. To say that I had never seen its equal would be a complete miscarriage of justice. They just don't make them like that. Maybe out of rubber and silicone, but flesh and blood? Not a fucking chance. Never have I been so desperate, so cravenly, inescapably enslaved to my own bottomless greed - the cock swinging from my own mother was art in motion. It was an altar to be knelt before. It was raw, hot, and powerfully enticing. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was staring at a life-changing crossroad in my life. My Mama's cock, a thing so impossible that even staring at its soft, drooping girth wasn't enough to snap me out of my reverie. A moment after it came free, a singular heavy bead of precum started descending in pearly grace from the massive tip, slowly stretching down like a fat spider spinning one gossamer thread behind itself.

No, I won't insult her masterpiece with something so crass as a measurement in inches. Make something up if you need to, you're still cutting it short.

"You should look away," Mama said softly as the thong fell the rest of the way to her feet before she reached out and retrieved the replacement pair.

"I... I..."

"It's rude to stare, Belle."

When had she ever spoken to me like that? Not the words themselves, but the tone; sultry and smokey, and pitched to melt cold steel. I could hear my heartbeat hammering in my ears. One hand cupped one of my tits, the other rubbed my hot mound slowly. I was outright masturbating to her body. I'd cum if she didn't stop me.

With the same patient, calculated care with which she had stripped, I watched her bend again to put her feet through the openings in her new pair. The motion caused her cock and balls to wobble deliciously, and I made a pitiful sound as the string of precum affixed itself to her thigh wetly. The way she swung had already changed - something was happening to her. I suspected I knew what it might be.

She treated me to another ponderous ass show, proffering her bottom for me with exaggerated and glacially paced motions, pulling the tight fabric of these new, fuller-coverage panties over her delectable ass. She hiked at the waistband a few times in a way that caused everything to jiggle and quake before fully cocking her head and looking at me over her shoulder. I didn't move my hands. I wanted her to see.

Her thighs were too close together now; everything that had caused me to start salivating was out of sight. Even so, she wouldn't turn around. She wouldn't let me see what she was cradling in her hands.

"They're a little tight," she said in those same dulcet tones. "I don't know if I'll keep them."

"I... You look..."

"Belle, honey?"

"Y-yes."

Her hands were in front of herself - I imagined that she was adjusting herself, but the movements were too slow and casual for that. One shoulder hiked rotationally. The other hand was holding something steady.

She spoke softly. "You're touching yourself."

I looked down and moaned; my hand was no longer overtop of my underwear. It had slipped under the fabric at some point. I was rubbing my bare pussy, and I still couldn't stop. I had nothing to say for myself.

"You need to leave."

"Bu-But..."

"Now, Belle."

"I... But I..."

"I will not ask you again. Get up."

It was so icy and commanding that I didn't even bother to resist her further. The entire episode, all the long build-up and tension, followed by the unearned strip show, had simply caused my decision-making synapses to atrophy past uselessness. I was numb.

Standing, I wordlessly struck out at her with a final act of depraved defiance, the only one that I could muster. I left the room, but not before I unhooked and dropped my bra, shimmied out of my panties, and made her watch while I sucked my fingers clean.

"Yes, ma'am." I intoned as I stepped over my discarded clothes, moved through the door and pulled it shut behind me.

The tears were hot. Whether it was rage or frustration, or just pure, unrequited passion, I let them water my naked body while I sat on the ground in the hallway, furiously masturbating through my torment. I didn't care if she heard me. Let her try to cum while her own daughter wept in the hall outside her door, that was her problem. I had no qualms about getting myself off, and did so loudly right through my sniffles and whimpers. I was hers, wholly, bodily, forever; who the fuck was she to make me wait in the fucking hallway while she denied me my due? All I wanted was to be reduced to a quivering puddle of used up holes, given meaning and purpose the only way that I could be - her cock alone could make me whole. Only her cum would let me serve my life's function. Nothing else would do, nothing else was worth living for.

"F-fuck you," I panted to myself, fingers stuffed angrily up myself as I filled the short hallway with the sound of my furious self-abuse. It wasn't immediately clear who my words were for; probably Mama, but I definitely deserved a bit of it too. I shiver-sobbed through another orgasm in my miserable little huddle on the floor and groaned as it wracked through my body.

Anna's door suddenly cracked open a few inches and I turned my head hopefully, praying to catch her looking down at me with the maternal love I so craved in that moment.

Instead, the panties I had left on her floor flew across the hall, splattering wetly against the wall opposite where I was slumped. They stuck in place for a long second before sliding down the wall in a wet smear, hitting the ground just as Anna pulled her door closed again.

The lock to her room snapped shut. I retrieved my cum-laden underwear and retreated to my room to feast on their bounty.

It was so much better when it was hot. I wanted to gorge myself on the stuff, but passed out from an eventual endorphin drop sometime later, still clutching my ruined prize in one sticky-fingered hand.