Hexed Ch. 03
Re-evaluation.

********

This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 or older. This story features my usual themes of Oedipal incest, exaggerated bodies, and copious fluids.

10.

After she recovers, Mom showers alone. She lets me splash around in the sink. At first I am disappointed, but I see the logic in it. Whenever we're too close, explosive things happen. We both need a breather after the intensity of the kitchen.

Mom leaves me in the bathroom to get dressed, returning almost immediately, having donned a diaphanous white tank top with a flower pattern that hugs her every curve and shows her pale skin and pink nipples beneath. A loose pair of sweat-shorts hangs off her hips. Her hair is still wet and hangs down her back in long dark strands.

Mom smiles at the effect of her costume on me. She scoops me up and carries me down to the living room, depositing me on the couch. When I frown, she explains, "I have to clean up the kitchen before we go any further. Watch some TV. I won't be long."

Reluctantly, I flip on the television and watch a few programs, flipping through channels, not really finding anything. I'm sitting on the edge of the couch, legs dangling over the side, with the remote at my elbow, slamming buttons as the mood strikes me.

After what seems like an eternity, Mom saunters back into the living room. Her hair has dried, and looks a little frizzy, but she's tied it back from her face into some kind of bun or something. She stands behind the couch, looking over the back of it at me. I half turn and admire the view, the way her immense breasts fill the tank top, confined and supported but revealing everything. Mom smiles broadly. She plucks at the drawstrings on her shorts. I hear fabric moving, see Mom's hips shift as her legs move.

Mom climbs over the back of the couch, naked from the waist down, her huge, beautiful pussy wet and gleaming. She ends up kneeling on the center cushion, her creamy thighs framing my body. I look up into her pussy, and beyond to her softly rounded belly and thrusting breasts.

Mom chuckles, sultry and sexy, and scoops me up. Without preamble she swings me around so that my engorged dick is pointed at her moist vagina. She brings me close, smooshing my body against her. My cock penetrates, and I start swinging my hips involuntarily, jamming into her. With my hands I start banging against her clit, peeking out from its little hood. Mom moans, grinds me into her pussy.

Her hands shift, letting me hang upside down. My cock slips out of her warm, wet gash. She swings my knees up, so that my feet press against her lips. Slowly she eases me inside, up to my waist. I have to adjust my cock so that it points away from me and into her. Inside her my knees bend as Mom continues to push me into her. I sink in further, enjoying the warmth and moisture as her entire pussy swallows me. As my chest is swallowed, I wrench my right arm free, which elicits a hiss and hip jerk from Mom.

I reach out for her clit, rubbing and caressing it the best I can with one hand. At the same time, I attempt a modified frog kick with my legs. Mom's entire body shudders, and I feel her lips tighten around my chest. Her moisture soaks into my skin, drips down my pecs and onto my neck, trailing along the edge of my chin and across my cheeks to pool in my hair.

I expect to be pulled out and jammed back in, but Mom keeps me pinned. Her inner walls tighten and loosen around me, flexing, caressing my entire body. I press back against her with one arm and both legs, feeling her flesh give a little, expanding and contracting against my actions. Her scent is overpowering, sweet and salty and delicious. I lick her moisture from my lips, suddenly struggling to breathe as it flows over the lower part of my face. I suck it down, swallowing quickly, and take a shaky breath.

Mom's hips jerk back and forth. Beneath us, the couch cushion groans. Above me her breasts swing back and forth, immense and flexible tanks. I wish I could reach up and grab them, bury my face between them, lick their every expanse, suck on her nipples. I'd have to be normal size to do that, and we wouldn't be together if I were. Right?

I feel my climax approaching, and with it Mom's. Her contractions come faster and harder now. My body is compressed within her, and my struggles against her inner muscles grow more feeble. My cock is wedged between two folds of slick flesh, sawing between them. My hips twist, and I hit some sensitive spot, because Mom explodes at once, her pussy clamping down tight on me. Her shoulders hunch and her breasts hang down, swinging left and right in the confines of her tank top as her eyes shut and teeth clench and a long, low moan comes from her.

I explode as well, spraying rope after rope into Mom's sucking depths. My balls feel as if they are being squeezed, my cock feels like it is expanding, and the cum races up the barrel of my shaft to erupt with enormous force, splattering against that sensitive spot with each shuddering spurt. Mom's moan turns to a cry as her mouth drops open and her eyes squeeze shut even harder.

I empty myself in her, my ejaculation taking forever. Spurt after spurt spirals out of the head of my cock, filling her to the brim. Semen squeezes out from the edges of her lips, washing over my chest. My head swims, as hanging upside down the blood finally starts rushing to my head.

At last, Mom pulls me free with a sucking sound. I am coated neck to foot in semen and vaginal fluids. Our combined juices drip from Mom's gaping pussy onto the towel draped across the couch cushion. Mom lifts me up to breast level. She wears a satisfied smile.

"Mmmm," she says, "you need another bath." She proceeds to lick me clean, slurping up both her fluids and mine from my bruised and battered body. She cleans me thoroughly, sensuously, pausing now and then to swallow noisily. She makes contented noises and cooing sounds as she bathes me with her tongue, paying particular attention to my rampant cock and swollen balls.

When she's done, she slips my cock between her plush lips and coaxes me to another thunderous climax, so that I spray another epic load across her tongue and teeth and throat. She swallows greedily, moaning and humming, and cradles me to one titanic breast.

My mother has just used me as a sex toy and I loved every second of it.

Her other hand has been cupping her mound this entire time. What has dripped out of her vagina has pooled in her palm. She brings it up to her lips and licks it clean with cat-like satisfaction.

"Mmmm," she says. "I came in here to make a suggestion, but you looked so cute and irresistible sitting there, I just had to fuck you."

"You'll get no complaints from me."

She laughs. Her thumb teases my cock. "No doubt," she says.

"So... what were you going to suggest?"

"Oh!" she says, laughing once more. "I'd forgotten again. You're so good at distracting me. Anyway, what I meant to say was, we should have a fashion show."

Unless she's stashed a Barbie Dream House complete with Ken's wardrobe somewhere, I don't think I'm putting on any kind of show. So I ask, "And by 'we' you mean what exactly?"

She smiles a wicked smile, which makes her all the more beautiful. "Well, me of course. But I need an audience." She pokes me in the chest with a finger glazed in pussy juice. "That's where you come in, little man."

"I think that's in my wheelhouse. So what do you have in mind?"

She explains briefly, getting up from the couch and heading upstairs. She leaves her shorts behind, which means I literally don't know where to look. Up or down presents wonderful possibilities, and I find my neck getting a crick in it from whipping it back and forth.

Mom stops at the door to my room, opens it, and steps inside. I thought I had gotten used to being small in my own house, but the all too familiar trappings of my room remind me all over again that I am tiny. My twin bed is huge, as are the suitcases making a pyramid by my desk and computer. The posters of rock bands I barely even listen to anymore decorate the walls, as well as old little league trophies and a low bookcase filled with books from college. The curtains are drawn, but some of the midday sun leaks into the room. Mom sets me down on my bed and steps back.

"Wait here," she says. I admire the view as she turns to go and hurries from the room, her beautiful, curvy ass flexing attractively as she departs. She throws a knowing look over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall towards her bedroom.

I loose a low wolf whistle and settle down onto the comforter. I look around, but that makes my heart heavy and my head hurt, so instead I focus on the open door. I try to think how Mom will be dressed when she returns. It takes some time for her to do so. Eventually, I start to get bored. My eyes wander around the room.

The surreality of my situation strikes me like a sledgehammer once again. The house is familiar enough, but I have largely been spending my time in family space and my mother's space. This room, however, is my space. My room. My size in relation to it is one thing, what Mom and I are about to do in here is another. It's wrong and right at the same time.

Just as I begin to wonder if I'll ever be normal again, the floorboards in the hallway creak, announcing Mom's approach. I immediately brighten, give my cock a quick stroke, and get ready.

11.

Mom steps into the doorway and strikes a pose, head slightly down, one arm raised to the door lintel, left leg forward, right leg turned and bent at the knee.

She wears a pair of white, four inch heels that raise her incredible height, and add definition to her calves. Her legs are encased in tight black hose that travels all the way up her long, long legs to terminate at her thighs, where they are decorated with little pink bows. The band is tight against her skin, required no tapes, and revealing yards of creamy skin. A pair of diaphanous black boy-shorts hugs her hips and molds against her barely concealed pussy. Her midriff is bare, as the purple blouse she wears is unbuttoned, tied up beneath her breasts, and open at the throat, revealing the black bra she wears, barely containing her titanic tits. The sleeves of her blouse are rolled up as well, leaving most of her arms bare save for a silver bracelet that dangles off her left wrist. Mom's long black hair is tied into two pigtails, which bare her lovely neck, and hang over her chest, tied at the ends with pink ribbon. She has left a tuft of bangs to hang over her forehead and almost cover her left eye. Subtle makeup enhances her natural beauty, but it is the sultry smile she wears that gets me heart pounding.

Mom stands in the doorway for long moments, framing the space, shifting her body in little ways to add emphasis to different parts of her anatomy. She leans forward to flash an acre of cleavage, stretches both arms overhead to thrust her breasts out further, makes a quarter turn and leans over to show off the arc of her springy ass.

Mom licks her lips and winks at me. She bats her eyelashes, but can't contain an immediate laugh. "What does my little man think?"

"You look fucking gorgeous," I say. I can't keep from giving my cock a few strokes. It's so hard and ready, and she's so far away. I could leap across the room and clamber up her perfect form, but somehow I sense this is not part of the game.

"Mmm, yes Robbie, stroke yourself for Mommy," she says. She turns, reaches out onto the floor in the hall for something, and returns, holding a large glass beer stein. "You're going to fill this for me," she says.

I pause, looking at it. I don't see how that's going to happen. The bloody thing is almost as tall as I am. Mom crosses the room and sets the stein down next to me. I can look over the edge, but just. It comes up to my neck. I look at her questioningly. Is she insane? Her gray eyes are gleaming with hunger and lust. She is serious.

Mom bends over, flashing those beautiful tits in my face, and grabs the pillows at the head of the bed. She lays them out near me, and unceremoniously sweeps me up and sets me down on top of them. She adjusts the beer stein. There is give under the pillows, but not too much, and I am able to balance myself upon them and aim my engorged cock at the mouth of the glass. Mom steps back from the bed. I wobble a bit, but keep upright.

Mom starts to pose again. She cups her breasts, pulls on the lapels of her blouse, widening the view. She bends over, and even in the underwire bra her breasts dangle, huge and round and gorgeous. She folds her hands demurely across her crotch, which forces her upper arms to press against her breasts, causing them to bulge outward. She bends further, and pretends to play with her stockings, running her hands up and down their length, adjusting folds and smoothing the fabric. She turns on her heels, butt arched outward, and gives her right cheek a slap that sets her whole ass jiggling.

Mom straightens, standing up, hips cocked. She unties the knot under her breasts and lets the shirt slip to the floor. She cups her bra encased breasts, running her hands up and over the cups, tracing her fingers across the upper slopes. With a grin, she folds the left cup under her heavy breast, leaving it to dangle happily, defying gravity and barely needing any support. Her nipple is engorged and hard, and she teases it with a finger.

I'm very close now. Mom smirks. She can sense my progress, judging by the wet stain spreading across the front of her panties. She bends her neck and lifts her left tit, so she can drag her tongue across its expanse and tease her hardened nipple.

And I'm off, spraying the first creamy load into the stein. Spurt spurt spurt. Long streamers of creamy jizz erupt from the tip of the cock, falling in lazy arcs to the bottom of the glass. Mom bites into her lower lip, nostrils flaring, hips jerking a little. I scrape the head of my cock against the rim of the stein, squeezing out the last few pendulous drops. And I keep stroking.

Mom smiles broadly. She repeats the action with her right breast, folding the cup underneath and playing with her nipple. She squats down on her heels, stretching the fabric of her panties at her crotch, muscles in her thighs and calves bunching up. Mom lifts and squeezes and teases her breasts. She forms her full lips into a kiss and aims them at me.

She rises, crouched, so her tits dangle, and lets them swing back and forth. Slowly she straightens, still twisting, heavy breasts swaying back and forth hypnotically. Mom crosses her arms beneath her breasts, raising them up, almost as if offering them to me. Their plump fleshiness flows over her arms.

"You know," she says, almost breaking the spell, "I wanted to wear my purple bra, but I didn't see it in the drawer." Her voice is low and husky with need. "Do you know where I found it?"

I shake me head, hands sweeping up and down my turgidity, even though I know the answer.

"In the hamper," she says needlessly. "With a dried cum stain in the cup." She laughs, low and sexy. "You know, I almost never wear that bra anymore. It's actually too small for me. But it does make my tits look even bigger than they are."

That bra had a 38F tag. Too small? Holy – and I'm off again, spraying another near continuous stream of cum into the cup. It splats as it hits the puddle of cum at the bottom. My ass clenches and my hips jerk involuntarily as I aim my shuddering cock at the beer stein and cum and cum and cum. Mom moans on the other side of the room, her huge hand grazing the front of her panties. I don't know why the mention of numbers does this to me. I can see her breasts, I know how big they are, not only on her but in relation to me. Even at full size, this silly monster cock I brandish would be swallowed between them. But still, having that size quantified with a measurement sets my blood boiling.

As my flood subsides, Mom is breathing heavily. She is crouching again, reclining on her heels. She pushes the front of her panties aside and dips a few fingers into her honey pot. I feel the phantom caresses stroking my cock. "Mommy wears a G cup now," she says, cupping one massive breast and finger fucking herself at the same time.

Immediately after my last orgasm, I am triggered again, somewhat weaker this time, but still a gusher. My hose sprays the side of the beer stein, and my cum washes down the glass side to join the growing pool at the bottom. Mom shudders and moans, riding the crest of our mutual climax with eyes closed and teeth gritted. When she stops shaking, she rises from her crouch and stretches like a cat. She eyes the beer stein hungrily.

"I think you can really do it," she says, almost to herself. She flushes, looks at me, gauging my reaction.

I smile. "You do inspire me," I manage to gasp out.

Mom returns my grin. "Ready for the next outfit? I'll try not to be too long."

I nod. I could use the breather. With a sexy smile, Mom swipes a glistening finger across my chest, marking me with her vaginal fluids, then saunters out of the room, hips swaying and gorgeous ass flexing.

I give my cock a few swipes while I wait, not that I need fluffing. The hex ensures I am hard and leaking precum perpetually.

Mom returns shortly.

She's pulled the ribbons from her hair and brushed it out a little, leaving it wild and tousled but back from her face. A little black choker is tied around her neck, depending from which is a large, most likely fake, ruby.

Mom's curves stretch a tight red dress to bursting. It has a deep scoop neck that shows off her huge breasts. Narrow ties wrap around her shoulders to provide some semblance of support. Her hard nipples are clearly visible through the thin material. The dress hugs the curve of her belly like a second skin. The fabric on the sides has been scalloped, baring her ribs and the top curve of her hips. When she whirls, she shows that most of her back is naked as well. The skirt of the dress is long, hanging down to the floor, but slit up the sides. A narrow band of fabric, only four inches or so thick, rides her hips, connecting the front of the dress to the back. The back rides low enough that I can see the top of her ass. Red four inch heels, tied around her ankles, complete the look. It's clear she isn't wearing a bra, but I don't know if she has panties on under the skirt.

Mom glides into the room, letting the skirt swing and sway, alternately covering and revealing her long, toned legs. Her tits swing around unsupported on her chest, and I can almost hear the strain in the straps as they try to hold back her massive mammaries. Mom puts a crooked finger between her lips and eyes me suggestively, hips cocked, one leg bare, the other hidden.

Where has she been hiding this wardrobe? I wonder, as I furiously tug at my cock.

Mom leans forward, hands on knees. Her tits swing out like low-hanging fruit, full and succulent and all but revealed. The fabric of the dress stretches and rolls, revealing the upper arc of each pink areola, but seems stopped by her hard nipples. Mom sucks a little on that finger, pulls it free. It glistens wetly with her saliva.

Mom straightens and teases a nipple through her dress top with the wet finger. Probing, poking, twisting. Her other hand cups and kneads the other breast, and it starts to pop out of its meager confines. Mom smirks and hooks her hands up under the straps, letting them fall off her shoulders. She peels the front of the dress down off her breasts, which pop free with a sexy bounce.

I reach a minor climax, coaxing another impressive load from my balls, emptying it in to the beer stein at my feet. Mom hisses, hips shaking, eyes half-lidded. Her tongue darts out to trace her lower lip. She teases her nipples, cups and bounces her breasts, squeezing them together, pushing them up against her chest so that her breasts flow over her clutching fingers, nipples scraping against her palms.

Mom spreads her legs, the skirt draping between them. She throws her head back and her tits swing up, then bends over quickly, sending them bobbing in the other direction. Mom's hands run down her sleek, muscular legs and she grips her ankles. Long black hair obscures her face, but I hear her panting and see her breasts swinging and swaying enticingly. She unfolds from her position, sliding her hands back up her legs, but keeping them splayed.

Mom reaches the small span of fabric on either hip and unsnaps them. She swings the skirt to the left and right, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the abbreviated red panties she wears. Hardly a thong, just a tiny triangle of satiny red fabric covering her mons, connected by a thin red string that rides across her hips. She rotates slowly, still swinging the skirt, shaking her ass, and I see that the dental floss rides deep into her ass crack, making the globes of her scrumptious ass effectively naked.

Mom leans over again, flexing her toned calves and creamy thighs, thrusting her magnificent butt into the air. She flips the skirt up onto her bare back, allowing me to drink in the sight of her enormous, shapely backside.

I stroke myself to completion again. Pearly white cream erupts in streamers from the end of my cock, splattering with sickening sounds in the growing pool within the stein. The cum oozes down the slick sides of the glass, thick, viscous, steaming. I can't get the scent of blueberries out of my nostrils.

Mom braces herself on the floor with one hand, legs still splayed, skirt up on her back. She eases aside the tiny fabric of her panties, revealing the engorged, coral pink lips of her moist pussy. Two fingers dip within, teasing her folds. Phantom caresses run up and down my cock as Mom's hips rise and fall to the rhythm of her fingers. Her fingers and thighs glisten with her juices. Her breath comes in short sharp gasps. Suddenly she drops to her knees, the muscles in her legs spasming. The globes of her ass bunch up, and her back muscles tighten.

I cum along with her, adding more and more to the stein. I'm getting light headed. I should be dehydrated or having a heart attack, or at least be chafed beyond belief. Yet the hex keeps me lubricated and energized.

The stein is just over halfway full. It's disgusting and arousing in equal proportion, but the ratio begins to tip in the latter direction when Mom looks over her shoulder at it, and without touching herself, appears to have a mini-orgasm. I squirt too, a somewhat modest amount compared to previous efforts, but still more than should be possible.

Mom ducks her head, catching her breath, and when she looks up again, she wears a dazzling, sexy smile. She leaves the room on all fours, wiggling her ass every step of the way, and only gets to her feet when she reaches the hall. Mom winks salaciously at me. "Hold on tiger," she says, and darts away.

I slump back on the pillows, breathing heavily myself. I am drenched in sweat, except from the waist down, which is drenched in precum.

What is happening to me? This is all getting out of hand. Okay, right, I shouldn't have eaten the pie, but give me a break, I was drunk. I mean, I am enjoying myself, as much as one can, but every new development just sets me off kilter a little more. If I wasn't so constantly horny and aroused, I would be going insane.

These are the thoughts that occupy my mind while I wait.

How is Mom dealing with this? She's not tiny. She's not stuck at a fraction of her own height, imprisoned in her own home. Why is she giving in to this lust? She could have left me here for the weekend and escaped, or something, but instead she is throwing herself fully into this twisted sexual game. She's enjoying this, making suggestions, planning things, using me.

What is going on in that big, beautiful head of hers?

Reason flees again as Mom slithers into the room. Her long black hair is tied up and pinned with long pieces of lacquered wood that look like chopsticks. Big hoop earrings dangle from each ear, decorated with little green stones. Her bra is bright green, with a solid half cup beneath her breasts, and a see-through mesh along the top. Her belly is bare, declining into a green pair of panties that hug her hips. The front is already noticeably darker than the rest of the fabric, and it's clearly molded to her lips. Her legs are bare, smooth and toned, but she wears a pair of open toed three inch heels, also green in color. Over it all is a green silk kimono etched with a sinuous black dragon.

Mom stands with fists on hips, pushing the kimono open and displaying her generous assets. One foot curls inward. She smiles with half-lidded eyes.

She shrugs, slipping the kimono backward and baring her shoulders. Her tits shiver in the confines of her green bra. Mom reaches up and pulls first one and then the other pin free, letting her hair fall out in dark curls down her back. She shakes her hair out and lets the kimono slip down her arms until it is caught in the curve of her elbow. The back of the kimono flutters against her knees.

Mom makes a few steps across the room, getting closer to the bed, where I stand admiring her and wanking furiously. She watches me, a slow smile spreading across her full lips. She reaches up to the front of the bra and unsnaps it, peeling the cups away from her breasts, which bobble and jiggle and shake, settling on her chest. She flicks her nipples with her fingers, teasing them, making them harder and harder.

With a grunt, I erupt once more. My distended cock throbs and bucks in my hands, spraying more ropes of creamy cum into the stein. Mom nods approvingly while she continues to play with her breasts. In some complicated, practiced maneuver that I barely follow, Mom manages to extricate herself from her bra without having to remove the kimono.

Mom bends down, cupping her breasts as they dangle off her chest, and swings them with her hands, to and fro, back and forth. "You love Mommy's big titties, don't you Robbie," she whispers. She is close enough that her breath washes over me, cooling the sweat soaked hair sticking to my scalp. Mom laughs at my expression, not unkindly, and crouches down at the edge of the bed. Her titanic breasts rise up and over the lip of the comforter, and she continues to manipulate them with her hands. She lifts first one and then the other to her lips, lashing each nipple with her sinuous pink tongue.

"Cum for me, Robbie," she whispers. "Cum for Mommy."

So I do. The first jet arcs over the edge of the stein and actually splatters across Mom's left breast, causing her to squeal, but I aim the rest of my climax into the stein. The level is rising rapidly. I think I'm going to fill it soon. Which is insane and hot and sick.

Mom stands up, taking a step backward. She is shaking with the reverberations of her own orgasm. She abandons her breasts. Both hands flutter down her smooth belly to her panties. She poses a bit, making quarter turns that show off her breasts in profile, and also allow her to hike up her panties along her hip line, emphasizing the width and curve of her hips. But then with a shuddering breath, Mom pulls the panties down her legs. The fabric comes free of her pussy with a wet, sucking sound. She pulls them down to mid-thigh, before bringing her hands back to the delta between her legs. One hand parts her lips with the thumb teasing her clit, while the other hand sends two long fingers into her depths to part and tease her juicy pink folds.

It doesn't take long before Mom sets herself off, triggering my own climax. She curls over, panting and shaking, while I aim my dripping, spraying rod into the stein. The level is near the top, and I can almost feel the warmth radiating off from the sea of spunk.

Mom winks at me and offers me a sultry smile. She totters out of the room on weak legs, panties still stretched between her thighs. "One more, I think," she says aloud, but softly. She looks back at me over her shoulder. I admire her full ass, and the way her huge tits hang so wide and full that I can still see their outer curves even when from behind. "Needs to be special," she adds, but I'm not sure she's talking to me. Mom pauses to wipe clean the spray of sperm on her left breast, sucking it off her thumb.

I slump back on the pillows. My dick is still rockhard, and even through the layer of precum that coats its surface, it looks red. Almost swollen. I've been giving it considerable punishment the last few hours. It's still raging, and I'm still monstrously horny. I wonder again what exactly Mom is feeling. This can't be any less strange for her, but she's throwing herself into it with total abandon.

Maybe I shouldn't have done that trick with the shot glass after all. At the time, I could barely think. My action was the only one I could fathom taking. Why is my mind clearing now, even if just a little bit? Is it because I'm alone, or because I've been cumming so damn much?

Mom sweeps into the room once more, and I stand at attention.

Her hair remains tousled, as if she just got up from bed. She is barefoot, and wears no jewelry. Her outfit is simple, flowing, and abbreviated. It is wine dark, consisting of a narrow strap around her neck that flares out into two triangles of fabric, decorated with a flowery pattern, to barely cover her huge breasts. The sling is tight, lifting her tits but not supporting them, causing them to ride high on her chest but bulge outwards on both sides. A thin strip of flower print fabric connects them, just beneath Mom's cleavage. Hanging off the "cups" are two long, diaphanous panels that fall to the floor. The way they hang leaves her smooth rounded belly bare and exposes the see-through g-string that adorns her crotch.

Mom stands in the doorway in that magnificent nightdress, looking spectacular and sexy, and yet there's a look of uncertainty on her face. She looks directly at me, seeming to ponder something. A look of resolve comes over her pretty face. She steps into the room.

"The lonely mother," she says, "walks into her son's room. He is away at college, leaving her alone in the home they share." She takes the diaphanous panels in hand and swirls them around her ankles. Her unsupported breasts jiggle prettily.

What is she doing?

"The lonely mother thinks about her son. She misses him. He is so handsome now, a young man, grown tall and strong." Mom's fingers lightly dance across her naked belly. She's not looking at me now, but turning her head around, drinking in the sight of my ordinary, unspectacular bedroom.

"He looks so much like his father," she continues, "and the lonely mother sometimes finds herself thinking... things. Inappropriate things." Her fingers climb up to dance across her chest. They slip between the fabric of the nightdress and her skin, rubbing and caressing flesh, stretching clothing.

Mom suddenly raises her arms and throws her head back. "The lonely mother throws herself across his bed, hoping to feel some memory of his warm body against the sheets, hoping to catch one breath of his masculine scent lingering on his pillow."

I'm not sure where this is going, but my dick seems to like it. I am moments away from jetting another load into the stein.

Mom's hands slip completely under the top of her nightdress, kneading and caressing her gorgeous breasts. "The lonely mother thinks about her son's strong hands, touching her, caressing her, roaming over her full, ripe, lush body." One hand slides down her belly and cups her crotch. And I'm off, spraying jet after voluminous jet into the stein. Mom hitches, sucks in a breath, and teases her gash through her g-string.

"The lonely mother rolls around on her son's bed. She imagines what his young, virile cock looks like. Long and thick, dripping for her the way she is dripping for him." The panel of the g-string is pushed aside, Mom's fingers go to work. Her breasts pop out of the top, tugged free one after the other, and she kneads and caresses with her other hand. Her knees bend as she begins to shake, unable to remain standing. She kneels slowly on the rug.

I'm barely touching myself now, my climax triggered by Mom's. My seed goes flying, splattering into the stein. The glass is almost full.

"She imagines how his cock will feel in her hands, squeezed between her motherly breasts, rubbed against her cheeks. She imagines how her son will taste, how he will fill her mouth, and how quickly she can coax his seed down her throat." Mom's hips hitch, she cries out, and I'm roaring in climax myself. All I have to do is aim it at this point.

Mom catches her breath. Her closed eyes open a slit, then widen as she takes in the amount of spunk sloshing around in the stein. "Holy fuck," she breathes. She licks her lips, and is suddenly back in character. "She wonders how quickly she will be able to get him to recover, how roughly he will throw her to the bed, how forcefully he will part her legs. The lonely mother wonders how it will feel when her son slides his cock into his mother's sweet, waiting pussy. How it will feel churning inside her, bringing her to ecstatic heights undreamed of, and how, at last, he will feel when his powerful hungry cock empties its load deep... deep... deep... inside her!" Her voice rises with each word, until she is practically screaming at the end, shuddering and shaking with fingers deep thrust inside her.

I hold the base of my dick, feeling the familiar tingle start, the squeeze of my balls, the sickly fantastic feeling of the cum racing up through my weapon, and finally erupting in wet, sticky splats from the narrow hole at the top. Long arcs of viscous jism spray from my cock, into the steaming mass of cum filling the stein. The level rises to the brim, sloshes over the edge, and drips down the sides in long, gelid trails.

I slump on the pillow, spent and gasping. My head is spinning. Mom slumps on the bedroom floor herself, her back rising and falling, rising and falling, as she tries to catch her breath.

Finally she looks up, still gasping, and I see tears in her gray eyes. She blinks them away, suddenly smiling broadly, happily. Mom rises to her feet on shaky pins. "Oh Robbie," she says, her voice raspy, "you did it. You've given Mommy such a treat."

She tugs the nightdress off and lets it flutter to the floor. In one smooth, quick movement, she divests herself of panties as well. She stands nude and glorious in the middle of my bedroom. Her hair is wild, and trails of golden fluid track down her thighs.

Mom crosses to the bed. She scoops me up in her left hand and grabs the beer stein with her right. Cum sloshes from the top and splatters her hand. Mom half-shudders. She wasn't kidding – she really is a cumfiend. She's getting off just looking at all that pearly white juice.

I can barely think. This close to her again, I am overcome with her scent, the mix of her natural smell, perfume, and arousal. She holds me at hip height, letting me look up and up and up to her swaying tits as she carries me and the stein out into the hall and away from her bedroom. We reach the second floor bathroom quickly. She nudges the door open with a foot.

This room is spare, white, sparkling clean. This is the bathroom I used when I lived here, and it hasn't been touched much since I've been gone. Mom sets me down on the marble top of the sink and sweeps aside the shower curtain. She steps naked into the tub, which is not nearly as wide as the one in her bathroom.

Mom's eyes are shining with lust and hunger and something I can't quite describe. My dick aches between my legs. I can see fluid glistening on Mom's labial lips, darkening the neat patch of pubic hair just above. Her clit is proud, peeking out of its hood.

Mom hefts the stein, her hand already nearly coated with cum and drippings. Mom shivers with anticipation. "Oh fuck, I've wanted to do something like this for so long." She breathes deeply. "I never thought it would be with you, though. It makes it extra special, I think. Or maybe I'm just crazy. But that you would do this for your mother... oh, Robbie." She trails off into a moan and lifts the stein to her full pink lips.

With her mouth open, she tips the stein over. The contents sludge over the lip, into her mouth, pouring straight down her throat. She swallows, but the tide perforce overwhelms her. Cream slathers down her chin, drips down her throat in waves, and pours over her heaving breasts. A torrent of my cum streams down Mom's body, rolling in slick, gooey waves between her tits, across her belly, seeping into her pubic hair and washing across her pussy. Cum rolls down her creamy thighs as she kneels inside the tub, shivering in ecstasy.

From the moment the cream touches Mom's tongue, she starts cumming, which triggers my own reaction. I stand on the edge of the sink, watching her flip out as jizz pours over and into her, a tidal wave of spunk, and I start jettisoning another load, straight off the side of the sink onto the floor.

Mom is moaning as the last dregs of spunk slip out of the stein and into her mouth. Her free hand roams over her body, smearing the goo into her skin, rubbing it around, making trails, soaking it in. Her eyes are closed and her pussy is clenching with need as she rides a perpetual orgasm. I spring across the gap between sink and tub, landing lightly on the edge. My cock is still spraying, and I slip a bit, suddenly off-kilter. For a moment I fear I'll topple over the side and crack my skull open, but somehow I manage to stay upright. I grip my cock with both hands and point it in Mom's direction, sending a near continuous stream of cum arcing towards her. It feels so good it is almost painful, and I appreciate what it means to be multi-orgasmic.

Mom doesn't seem to notice me. She sets the stein down in the basin of the tub. She squats on her calves, undulating her belly, tensing the muscles in her legs, making gooey cum run down her flesh. With both hands free she begins to scoop cum up off her body and feed it to herself, sucking and licking her fingers with loud smacking sounds. Cum bubbles form on her lips, and she suddenly burps unceremoniously, causing her to open her eyes in embarrassment. This makes her aware of me, and though she reddens a bit, she scoots closer to me. Her skin squeaks on the surface of the tub.

She draws close enough that my rain of cum strikes her belly, unnecessarily adding to the torrent already staining her from throat to knee. Mom plays with her tits and shoves a hand into her crotch, spreading her pussy lips and shoveling cum covered fingers into her depths.

This just heightens the feelings washing over my distended, spraying dick. I feel myself growing lightheaded. I've been generating an unearthly amount of man-juice for the past few days, particularly in the last few hours, and apparently my body is finally beginning to feel the toll. I feel stretched thin, worn out. I feel empty. But still I am cumming.

Mom is shaking and shuddering. She cups a cum smeared hand under my waterfall, and after a little bit pools in her palm, she feeds it to herself noisily, greedily.

My vision swims. My peripheral vision begins to fog and darken. I'm cumming and I can't stop. I can't... stop.

I feel my legs slip out from under me. Everything goes black.

12.

Slowly I come back to myself.

I awake laid out on the head of my mother's bed, stretched across the length of a pillow, with a small blanket covering my body. My body is clean and smells of soap, which suggests Mom washed me while I was unconscious. My dick, soft while I slept, immediately begins to lengthen and harden as consciousness returns.

Otherwise, the room is dark and empty. Moonlight filters through the shades and curtains in the windows. I must have been out for hours.

My whole body aches. I stretch, slip out from under the blanket and slip off the pillow. I walk across the bed and leap down to the floor.

I take my time making my way through the house, looking for Mom. The door to my bedroom is still open, her clothes strewn across the floor. The bathroom at the end of the hall is a mess, still reeks of blueberries. I leap down the stairs.

The living room is dark, but the television is on, casting a cool blue glow around the room. I don't see Mom immediately, but after I bound up to the top of the couch, I find her laid out and unconscious.

She is dressed relatively conservatively in white capri pants that leave her calves and feet bare, and a tiny blue t-shirt that stretches tight across her massive chest. She has one arm thrown across her eyes, and her hair spills out around her head in a black halo as she reclines against a pillow. Mom snores softly.

I sit down on the back of the couch and survey the landscape. She really is a beautiful and beautifully formed woman, well rounded curves in all the right places. But she's also my mother.

This whole thing is just so... so... WEIRD. And then there's the little performance that ended the fashion show.

I walk to the north end of the couch and slide down the slope of the cushion, coming to land beside her arm. I reach out and give Mom a gentle shake. She shifts, swats at me with her other hand, and rolls over, towards the TV. I slip down between her and the back of the couch. Sudden panic, as I realize what danger I am in. Fear lends me strength, and I bound back up to the top of the couch in one leap as Mom shifts backward. Her shoulders press against the couch, right where I had been a moment ago.

I navigate down again, to the arm of the couch and around to Mom's front. Her arm is no longer stretched across her face. Her eyes are closed, however, her mouth half open as she sleeps. Her breath, sweet and warm, washes over me, ruffles my hair.

I pat Mom on the cheek. "Mom... Mom... wake up."

Her eyes open a slit. Pupils dilate, open wider as she struggles up from sleep and realizes what is happening.

"Robbie?" she says sleepily. "Oh." She blinks, starts to sit up. I wave her back down and she subsides. "Are you okay? I was so worried about you."

"Yeah, I'm okay. A little sore. Very thirsty. But not hurt. I kind of expected to wake up with a broken leg, if I woke up at all."

Mom smiles. "I caught you when you slipped off the edge of the tub. But you were already unconscious. I guess I wore you out." She blushes slightly.

"Yeah, well, that was a pretty intense afternoon."

Mom laughs uncertainly. "Yeah. You, uh, you saw some strange corner's of your mother's psyche. I hope I didn't scare you or weird you out." She laughs again. "I mean, I hope I didn't scare you too much or weird you out beyond repair."

"No, no, it's okay. I mean, yeah, I wasn't really prepared for all of that to happen. But it was also pretty hot. I guess it's just a little odd finding out your Mom is so... um..."

"Fucked up?" she says. The blush has deepened. She's not quite looking at me, even though I'm standing in front of her face.

"I was going to say 'kinky.'"

Mom's gray eyes refocus on me. "Is that bad?"

"No, it's not bad, it's just... I don't know. I dated a woman in Australia for a couple weeks. Older lady, in her late thirties, and she liked me to tie her up. It never really did anything for me, but she enjoyed it."

"Really?" Mom says. "You never mentioned this woman before."

"I guess we had to have sex together before we could have frank and open discussions about sex," I say somewhat lightly. But instead of making her smile, it only makes her frown.

"I'm such a horrible mother." She sighs. "You should be able to trust me with that sort of thing, Robbie. You can tell me anything."

"I guess I can."

We stare at one another for long moments. I feel uncertain, unbalanced. Even after what she's just said, I'm not sure I want to ask my next question. But I think I have to.

"So, Mom."

"Yes?"

"I have to ask. About, um, that last thing you did. The monologue, performance, whatever." I take a deep breath. My body is betraying me, as my cock is getting harder, throbbing right in front of her. "The 'lonely mother' thing."

Mom turns bright red. She blinks rapidly. Her full lips part, she takes a deep breath, closes them again. "Yes, that."

I nod. "Yes, that."

She giggles, a nervous sound. "It's complicated. I made it up on the spot. And yet it's been in the back of my head for a long time." She sighs, looks away, looks back at me. "Your father has been gone a long time. You look a lot like him. A lot. And you've been away most of the last four years, especially the last few months. Once in a while, the thought has occurred to me, and not in any kind of a serious way mind you, that it might be nice to kiss you. Like a woman kisses a man, not like a mom kisses a son. But just passing thoughts. Not even a full blown fantasy.

"And then... this whole situation happens. And here we are, having a sexual relationship. I just thought I'd play with that idea a little bit. I think we both enjoyed it." She pauses, gauges my reaction. "Did you?" she asks in as quiet a voice as a fifty foot woman can manage.

My turn to blush furiously. "I did, I think. No, I know I did." I look down at my rampant cock, give it a flex. "No use lying about it, you can see what my reaction is."

Mom laughs, some of the tension draining from her face and voice. "I'm glad. I don't want to do anything to hurt you or drive you away. I know I enjoyed it too." She sighs again. "Now what about all the cumplay? Did that gross you out entirely?"

"A little bit," I say honestly. "But it was pretty hot too."

She breathes a sigh of relief, ruffling my hair again. "Oh, good. I was worried about that, too." She pauses, looking at me intently. "Should we stop this?"

So. There's the question of the hour. Part of me wants to say "yes." This is sick and wrong. Perverted and depraved. But a bigger part, maybe the part throbbing between my legs, urges me to say "no." Still, it's a serious question, and it deserves serious debate. So I tell Mom what I'm feeling, how I'm conflicted, not sure what I want, what we should do.

"I have to be honest with you, Robbie. The last few days have been two of the most intense and enjoyable of my sexual career. I have... cut loose with you in a way I haven't ever before. I don't know if it's because you're my son and I feel I can trust you completely, or because you're trapped at that size and I can basically do whatever I want with you. That you seem to be enjoying yourself as much as I am just sort of eggs me on, makes me lose my mind a little bit. So that's a bit of a pro and a con. I'm the adult, the parent, and I shouldn't let myself lose control like that, especially around you."

"We're both adults, Mom. We're both complicit. But if I ever said 'no' to you, you would stop. We both know that."

She frowns. Even then, she's extraordinarily pretty. "I'm touched that you believe that, honey. But I'm not sure I would. And I'm not sure I can entirely blame it on the hex. My subconscious is a pretty dark and scary place.

"I've been thinking about things this afternoon, while you've been resting. Why did I make the pie a blueberry pie? I know it's your favorite. Why didn't I throw it out when you came home? Instead I just left a note, which you have a habit of ignoring. Did I want this to happen? Did some part of me engineer this whole scenario, just to put you under my power and have my way with you?"

I look at Mom, stricken. I can't say those thoughts haven't occurred to me, but I dismissed them. Mom isn't that calculating or heartless. There are tears in her eyes. I step forward and put a hand against her cheek. Unfortunately, my dick nudges up against her lips, eliciting a gasp from both of us. I tug it back and hold it away from her, trying to awkwardly and poorly hug her.

"Mom," I say, "you couldn't have intended this to happen. It was an accident. I don't blame you – no one made me eat the pie. And you were doing pretty well hiding your own arousal up until I jacked off into the shotglass. If anything, I'm to blame."

The salty tears flow down her cheeks, across where my hand touches her cheek. But she's smiling. I feel a huge hand against my back as Mom pushes me towards her. I hug her face, while her hand hugs my whole body. "Oh Robbie, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mom."

Still holding me against her, she says, "I guess the blame game isn't going to get us anywhere. We have to answer the question that we've been avoiding. Do we continue with this dalliance? Or control ourselves?"

My dick, slick with precum, slips out of my grasp and slaps against Mom's lips. Her tongue unconsciously darts out to give it a taste. I shudder with pleasure.

And I suppose we have our answer. We couldn't control ourselves if we wanted to – I think we'd just make ourselves miserable if we tried. What was it Mom said a day and a thousand years ago? Oh yeah: we'll just have to ride this out.

Might as well have some fun while we do.

I grip the base of my cock and manipulate my rod, rubbing the spongy head against Mom's plush lips, leaving a tiny trail of precum which she avidly licks away.

"I think we should enjoy this while it lasts," I say.

Mom smiles. Her lips purse, kissing my cock lightly. "I'm glad you feel that way."

I lean down and kiss Mom on the cheek, a tiny peck that I am sure she barely feels. I crane my neck towards the other end of the couch and leap away, landing at her feet.

Mom starts. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to undress you," I say, puffing out my chest.

"Oh, are you?" she says with a laugh. "Should I stand up?"

"No, stay where you are. Lay in the middle, if you would."

Mom complies, shifting on the couch so that she lies on her back, legs slightly spread, arms wide, huge breasts slowly rising and falling. A bemused look is on her pretty face as she watches me approach her across the couch cushions.

I clamber up onto her crotch, which starts her giggling. I try to keep a straight face as I struggle with the button. Finally I wedge it through the loop. Next is the zipper, which I grab with both hands and tug forcefully. It comes slowly, but it comes. With a rasp, the zipper opens up, revealing a pair of plain white panties beneath. I hop up onto Mom's hips and start curling the waistband down, but it's like the pants are painted on. Mom laughs lightly. I flash her a stern look over my shoulder.

I leap down to her ankles and tug on each pant leg in turn. My strength belies my mass, and the pants begin to draw down Mom's legs. I'm aided by the fact that Mom has lifted her ass off the couch. But the pants are catching on that ass, full and round and perfect as it is.

I spring back to Mom's hips, first on the right and then on the left, and work on rolling the pants down off her hips and butt. She steadies herself on her palms, watching me work, offering neither encouragement nor hindrance. I am sweating buckets from the exertion, but whatever my metabolism is doing, it's generating plenty of energy. I'm not tired. In fact, I'm getting more and more excited.

Once the pants are off her hips, they're a little easier to move. The mass of them as they bulk up on her thighs makes it difficult, but by leaping over and pulling on her pantleg, I'm able to slip them off completely, relatively quickly.

Once they're off, Mom stretches her legs, spreads them, and then makes a little bicycle movement with them. Her feet flash by overhead, and I admire the way the muscles in her thighs and calves flex.

The t-shirt is next. I spring back to Mom's waist, and make a short hop up onto her belly. I grab the bottom edge and start to roll it up and over her smooth, softly rounded belly. Mom shifts underneath me. Her butt now planted on the cushion, she sits up, allowing me to lift the back of the t-shirt along with the front. Mom's belly shivers under my feet - she is slightly ticklish there, as I approach the mountains of her breasts.

I pause just beneath them, scratching my head in mock consternation. Mom laughs loudly, which unbalances me and sends me spilling down her belly to land in the V between her legs. I can feel the heat radiating off her pussy through her panties. Plenty of time for that later.

I clamber back to my feet, eliciting a hiss of arousal from Mom as my carefully placed weight bumps against sensitive parts of her anatomy. I spring up to her breasts, catching hold of her bra under shirt, and climb up onto the shelf of her right tit. With a smirk, I slip under the V-neck collar into her cleavage. My feet sink into her soft skin, and my legs slip between her breasts. Her flesh envelops me, pushes against me. I grab t-shirt fabric with both hands and start tugging, gradually and insistently pulling it over my head. Her scent is all around me, filling my breath, soaking into my skin.

The bra, like her panties, is a plain white affair with smooth cups. It comes into view as the t-shirt bunches up over my head, finally pulled over her enormous breasts.

I slip out of Mom's cleavage with a little reluctance, leaving a tiny puddle of precum behind. I crane my neck, looking over the bunched up t-shirt into Mom's eyes. She is smiling broadly, one brow arched with curiosity.

"And the sleeves?" she says.

Damn. Hadn't considered those. I look with genuine consternation at Mom's shoulders. "Lay back, please," I say, "and raise your arms."

"Yes, sir," Mom says, chuckling. She reclines, raising her arms over her head. This serves to lift her breasts as well, and I rise with them.

With Mom's co-operation and a little jumping back and forth and a lot of tugging, I get the t-shirt over Mom's head. With that done, I can grab the sleeves and pull first one and then the other along the length of her arms. Mom slithers her hands through the sleeves for me, allowing the shirt to fall off the arm of the couch and pool on the floor. From beside Mom's head I survey my handiwork, hands on hips, breathing heavy and sweating profusely.

Mom's enormous, curvy body is laid out before me, clad in a modest white bra and panty set. Her pale skin glimmers in the subdued light from the TV screen. With arms raised, her breasts are pushed together, creating a deep canyon between them. Her smooth belly flows into her pubis, momentarily hidden beneath her panties. She is rubbing her thighs together in anticipation.

"Sit up again, please," I say, and Mom complies.

"Of course, dear." Her smooth back rises before me, long dark hair hanging over her shoulders. She turns her head, looking over at me with one eye and a smirk twisting her full lips. Using the couch arm as a ledge, I lean forward and reach for the hooks at the back of her bra. Mom's hand comes behind her, hovering nearby to catch me or lend me aid. I ignore it, struggling with the hooks. There are six of them, which seems excessive at the moment, but are probably important given how much weight they have to support. It's like trying to throw six deadbolts all at once.

Mom throws her shoulders back, lessening the tension a bit. I get one hook free, and the others follow in quick succession. Gasping, I wipe sweat from my forehead and sit back for a moment to catch my breath. I let myself admire the smooth musculature of her back, a field of flesh that fills my vision.

"You okay back there?" Mom asks.

"Yes," I grunt. "Just catching my breath."

"Do you want me to-?"

"No," I say quickly. "I'll do it." I take a few more quick breaths and leap up onto Mom's right shoulder. She sways a bit with the impact, and I have to grab a lock of hair to keep from tumbling to the floor, which looks very far away. This yields a yelp, for which I quickly apologize. Still, I'm going to really miss this crazy agility when I recover my height.

"You could warn a girl," she says, a little grumpy.

I let go of her hair and balance myself on her shoulder. Reaching down, I lift up the shoulder strap just a bit and let it fall. I gently pull some of Mom's hair aside and whisper into her ear, "Hold still." I bend my knees and launch myself over her head, coming to land quite ably on her other shoulder. The back of the couch will cushion my fall if I lose my balance. I repeat the action with her left shoulder strap, letting it fall onto her upper arm.

Mom has half turned her head to watch me. No longer grumpy, she is smiling, quietly amused at the little monkey leaping around and denuding her. I can't resist leaning in and kissing her lightly on her plush upper lip, which just makes her smile even more broadly, flashing me a little teeth.

With a nod, I sit down on Mom's shoulder and slide down her collarbone and onto the upper part of her left tit. Using my legs and then arms, I push the huge cup free of her breast, then slip off the slope of her boob and land lightly on her belly. I scramble, turn around, and continue to remove the bra from her breast. It comes reluctantly, and I realize I have to get the other one going before I can get the whole thing off. I step across Mom's ribs, and grab the underside of the right cup. Lifting and pulling, I soon have it free. I now reach for the center of the bra and give a few strong tugs. Mom assists with a shrug of her shoulders, which sets her boobs to jiggling, but also loosens the straps and allows me to remove her bra completely. I lift it up over my head and toss it off the side of the couch.

I am once again face to face with Mom's magnificent breasts. Each one full and firm, and nearly as large as my entire body. Her areolas are flushed, nipples hardened. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath, and I can smell the lotion she rubs into her skin. I'm glad it's not baby powder – I'm not sure I could take that scent right now. Whatever it is, it's sweet and clean and fruity.

I can't resist closing in, choosing her right breast for a hug that wraps my whole body around it. Her nipple nudges up against my stomach, and my engorged cock leaves trails of precum on her pale, soft flesh.

Mom unceremoniously plucks me from her tit, pulling me off it and depositing me on her belly while she reclines backward on the couch. "You're not done yet," she says.

I look down the sweep of Mom's belly at the sensible white panties she is wearing. They hug her hips and cup her sex. I can see a wet spot dampening the front.

I slide off Mom's flank and onto the couch. I slip my fingers under the edge of the fabric on her hips and tug it down. I have to leap across her, back and forth, to inch the panties off her hips. As the bottom edge starts to bunch up against her ass, she lifts up a little bit, balancing on hands and feet, legs spread. I tug and pull, and pull and tug, but the leverage just isn't there. Mom's plush ass is just too full and springy.

With a resigned sigh, I wave my hand to catch Mom's attention before sliding underneath her like a mechanic working on a car. I am all too aware of her immense weight hovering over me as I shimmy across the couch cushion and grab at the bunched up fabric near the top of her crack. I give it a sharp tug and it finally comes free, sliding across Mom's skin and almost snapping me in the face.

Mom's cheeks kind of bounce over my head, and I get lost in admiring her perfect pulchritude for a few moments. I'm brought back to reality by Mom's voice. "Robbie? What are you doing down there, honey?"

I roll out from underneath her, and as soon as I am free Mom lowers herself down. Her naked ass settles into the cushion, and I suppress a shudder. The worse thing is that my cock is inexplicably harder, as if contemplating my own messy death excites it.

I shake it off. I can smell Mom's juices, a sweet and pungent perfume that focuses my mind on my task. I bounce up on my feet and leap between Mom's slightly spread legs. Her sumptuous thighs rise like walls on either side of me, and the tent of her panties still covers her pussy. I clamber up on her thighs this time, gradually working the panties downward. I don't rest until the damp spot peels away with a slight sucking sound, accompanied by a sharp indrawn breath from Mom.

I look up at her with a grin, breathing heavy through my nose. My muscles are burning, stretched out, feeling good. I'm ready for a real workout.

So is Mom, apparently. She shifts on the couch, lifting both legs up. This knocks me from my perch, and I roll into her lap. Mom sweeps her panties off her long, long legs and tosses them aside.

"Such impatience," I gasp.

Mom gives a dainty shrug. "You're fun to watch, but you're taking too long." She sweeps me up in both hands and brings me to her lips. First she kisses my belly, pressing her full lips against my rockhard abs. Next she drags her tongue across my entire body, starting at my feet and slurping across my ankles, thighs, crotch, abdomen, chest and head.

"Mmmm, salty," she says. "You worked up quite a sweat, little man. You're not thinking of taking a break, are you?"

"No, ma'am," I say, cradled in her palms. I give my cock a flex, causing it to jump between my legs and snap a long drizzle of precum outward, spiraling towards Mom and eventually splattering against her collarbone far below.

Mom smiles broadly. "That's good," she says, almost purring. Her eyes narrow mischievously. "Well, you've captured your giantess. You've undressed her. What do you intend to do next?"

"Time for the ravishing," I declare.

Mom's eyes widen. "That sounds... exciting. How do you intend to do that?"

I smile. I wedge myself up onto my feet, balancing myself awkwardly in Mom's palms. Her arms shiver as she tries to create a suitable platform for me and not let me tip over. I leap off of her hands, causing her to loose a "whoof," sound of surprise, and land lightly on the couch cushion on her right flank. Above me towers her massive boobs, and to my own right her hip curves out, almost to the edge of the couch.

I clamber up Mom's arm, using her side and boob for leverage, and clamber up onto her collarbone. I blow her a kiss and slip down onto her right breast. My body is slick with sweat and Mom's saliva, and I slither around on her tit, losing my grip and slipping into her cleavage.

"Ho ho ho," Mom booms, trying to be funny. She squeezes her tits together, trapping me between them in a prison of soft, succulent flesh. Laid out on my back in her cleavage, I wiggle and scoot my way across her breastbone until I can get my head and shoulders to peek out the top. I wedge my arms free and brace them along the top of Mom's breasts. She looks down at me, and I crane my neck to look up past her chin and nose and try to catch a gray eye.

Mom's full lips twist into a smirk as she starts to lift and lower her massive tits, sliding them across my body, rubbing me down, squeezing me gently and insistently. She is titfucking my entire body. My cock nudges against her cleavage, leaving trails of precum. I see Mom's large hands kneading her breastflesh, her fingers caressing and teasing her big, hard, pink nipples. Her tits ripple and jiggle and shake around me, and I bounce between them uncontrollably. My hips jerk backward and forward, driving my cock into her breasts and between them. The angry cockhead peaks out from her cleavage, spraying precum, slickening her flesh.

Mom moans, a rumbling sound in her chest that vibrates against my back and shakes my whole body. Beneath me, her butt presses into the couch cushion and her thighs rub together.

"I want to see you cum between my tits," Mom says breathily, huskily, and it's as good as a command. The next moment cum is racing up through my distended cock, erupting from the tip and spraying in ribbons across Mom's breasts. Her pale skin is painted white by the titanic volume of my eruption. She keeps squeezing me with her tits the entire time I am cumming, constant insistent encouragement. Almost as much covers her breasts as ends up slickening her cleavage and spraying across my chest.

Finally when my cock stops shuddering and spurting, Mom lets her tits fall away from me. Her fingers swipe across the puddles and feed jizz into her lips. She grabs my legs and pulls me down through her cleavage, which serves to add another layer of frosting to my skin. When I'm dragged free she lifts me up by both legs, letting me hang upside down over her breasts.

Blood rushes to my head as Mom carries me over to her mouth and proceeds to lick and kiss the cream from my body. My dick bobs between my legs, the weight and curve of it almost pinning it to my chest, letting the mushroom tip point at my head. This is not altogether pleasing, although Mom's lips and tongue caressing my every inch helps to distract me. I'm also getting lightheaded hanging upside down like this.

When I am sufficiently clean in Mom's estimation, she slips my cock between her lips and gives me an upside down blowjob. I grab her chin with both arms and brace myself against it as I thrust my hips into her mouth, driving my cock between her lips. Her agile tongue tip teases and flicks my cockhead as it drives between her lips. Warmth and moisture wash over me. Saliva and other fluids slip under her lower lip and pool against my abdomen.

Mom's hand pins me against her face, keeping my hips from moving, her palm all but squashing my butt, her nose splitting my legs apart, breath cooling my balls. Her lips and tongue assault my engorged cock, and before long I am exploding again, spraying ribbon after ribbon of goo into her mouth. She swallows greedily. I watch her throat work.

Mom sets me free with another lash of her tongue against my ever hard cock. She carefully turns me around in her palms. Vertigo assails me. Head spinning, blood swirling around my compressed frame back to where it should be flowing. I blink, breathing hard, and the world goes out of focus for a few moments.

"You okay?" Mom asks sincerely.

I shake the fog from my head, give her a thumb's up.

She sets me down on her sticky, blueberry scented breasts and examines me closely. "I'm fine," I say, "just a little light headed."

"You're red in the face," she says, "and not in a good way."

"I'll be okay in a sec." The world slowly returns to normal, or as normal as it can be when you're just shy of nine inches tall.

Mom still looks concerned, but she brightens when I clamber to my feet in her cleavage and begin walking down her belly towards nirvana. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asks. I offer a desultory wave.

Mom spreads her legs wider, hooking one over the top of the couch and setting the other on the floor. I drop down on hands and knees when I hit her belly button and crawl the rest of the way, dragging my cockhead across her skin and leaving a shiny trail of slime behind me. Mom pats my ass cheeks with a finger, not harshly, but in an encouraging way.

I crawl through the fur of her neatly trimmed bush and approach the apex of her pussy. She is wet and open, glistening with fluid, lips flushed a coral pink. Her clit peeks out from under its hood. Mom can't resist giving herself a swipe, dragging two fingers through her folds and thwacking her clit with her thumb in what appears to be a practiced gesture. My dick throbs in response and releases another hefty glob of precum.

On my knees, I balance atop Mom's pubis and slide my hands forward, reaching out to caress and rub her sopping labial lips. Her juices coat my hands and forearms quickly, as I knead and push and rub. Her clit hovers underneath my chest. I crane my neck over the shelf of her pubis and survey her steaming gash. Its beautiful, pink, and delicious looking. Were I full size I would dive in and drive her mad with lips and teeth and tongue, but I'll have to make do with my whole body.

I contort my body, getting my legs underneath me in a semi-uncomfortable crouch, and balance myself with one hand. With the other, slick with Mom's precoital fluids, I grab my huge cock and aim it at Mom's clitoris. I drag my cock over her little nubbin, whack it a little with the head, saw my dick along her clit as if fucking it. My precum mixes with her juices, creating a frothy, pungent mixture.

Mom shudders around me, under me, and I hear her breath hitching. The muscles in her thighs bunch up. She kicks her feet out and raises both legs halfway into the air. Mom cries out as her orgasm crests. Her pussy floods with juices, and I start cumming as well, spraying a volatile flood of sperm onto her clit and pussy and thighs. I rise quickly and turn around, sending a spray of jism onto her hip before aiming the rest of my eruption onto her belly.

Mom's hands sweep around me, rubbing my cum into her skin. They caress her thighs, her pussy, her belly. She brings dripping fingers to her lips and cleans them greedily. Lust glazed eyes look down at me through a fringe of dark hair that hangs over her forehead.

Her hands, slick with my cum and her vaginal fluids, wrap around me and lift me up off my feet. "Fee fi fo fum," she says, "now I'm gonna fuck my son." She laughs at her little joke, a sexy little laugh, but I don't think it's that funny. Mom spins me around in her hands so that my head is pointed at her pussy.

That doesn't fill me with confidence. At the same time, with my arms and legs pinned, as well as my cock trapped under her hands, I can't really do anything about it. Still, my cock throbs under her fingers, hard and eager.

"Deep breath, baby," Mom says. I plunge toward her huge, warm, wet, vagina. I suck in a long, shuddering breath as I draw near, knowing that if I protest this, I'll miss my chance to get much needed oxygen. I think of swim practice in high school, and just hope she doesn't leave me in there too long.

Then suddenly everything is dark and pink and wet. Her folds envelop me, cling to me, caress me. Mom constricts her pussy around my body. Despite myself, I have to admit it feels incredible. Her juices are warm and thick, coating my skin, covering my face and chest and arms.

From the waist down I feel the cool draught of air outside for just a moment, but then Mom grips my thighs and pushes me further in. Her walls tighten around me as I probe further into her moist depths. I can feel and hear her heartbeat, as well as a sort of rumbling that must be her crying out in ecstasy.

I kick my calves and feet, which causes my thighs and hips to slam against her inner walls. My lungs burn. I need to breathe. I stretch my arms out as far as I can, pressing against her pink folds. She's slippery and pliant, stretching to accommodate my every move, but rebounding against me as well, tightening around me.

My heart pounds. Just when I think I'll have to expel the deoxygenated air in my lungs and breathe in a gallon of pussy juice, I am swept back out into the cold glow of the television. I splutter and spit Mom's slick fluids, taking gasping, heaving breaths.

"Deep breath and hold it," Mom commands. There's an edge of lust in her voice that suggests she's losing it. As if trying to asphyxiate me in her vagina wasn't enough of a clue. Again I forego protesting to take a deep breath, and dive once more into her coral sea. I'm not sure why I keep my mouth shut. I must be enjoying this on some level, being dominated and used, which tells me things about my personality I'd rather not know.

I thrust my arms and knees and thighs against Mom's inner walls. They push back against me. The heat and the scent are nearly overwhelming. I'm not breathing, but her fluids are on my lips and nostrils and in my mouth, and tasting is the same as smelling. Sweet, salty, light as sea foam and thick as molasses, a mix of contradictive elements that make it perfect and intoxicating. My head swims, and not simply from lack of oxygen.

Mom shakes and shudders around me, her pussy tightening even more. She's close, I know it. But there are lights flickering in front of my eyes. My lungs feel like they're on fire. And I really don't want to pass out again – especially now, when Mom might not notice right away.

So when I am swept free from her clutching pussy into the open air, and she gives me another "Deep breath, baby," I exhale all the dead air in my lungs and suck in a quick, sharp breath that gives me just enough air to shout "Mom! Stop!"

I'm plunging towards her wide open gash as I shout desperately, and my tiny, tinny voice must be barely audible over the blood rushing through Mom's temples. But I freeze in mid-air, arms held out as if to ward off the dive inside her.

She sweeps me up to her face. I am dripping and spluttering, but each breath tastes sweeter than chocolate and raspberries. "You okay, Robbie?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say. I can't see her, as my eyes are webbed shut with the vaginal fluids coating my head and face. "Hard... to... breathe," I manage between gasps. "But fun!" I quickly add.

Mom sighs. "Sorry, baby. I guess I got carried away again." The world shifts as I feel her bring me closer to her face. Her breath washes over me, cooling my wet body. Mom proceeds to lick me clean with her agile tongue, carefully removing her own fluids from every inch of my body. She sucks each of my limbs into her mouth, stretching my tired muscles in the process and giving me a moist massage with her tongue. She even sucks the top of my head between her lips. I press my hands against their plush pink softness to keep my head attached to my shoulders, while she hoovers the goo out of my hair.

She saves my rampant member for last, and given the preamble, it only takes the lightest of suction from her to set me off. Streamers of cum spray into her waiting mouth. She parts her lips, opening her mouth, and lets me aim my rod to send my spray across her tongue, teeth and gums. A thick white pool forms quickly, which she swallows greedily, happily.

Mom holds me up and out from her body. "Feel better?"

"Yeah. Breathing is always good."

"All those years on the swim team, I thought you'd be better at holding your breath," she says with a warm smile. The smile falters. "But I am sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know, Mom. You just got to remember to be careful."

"You're right, you're right. You just make me lose control, Robbie. Worse than anyone."

I smile. "Who can complain about that?"

Mom's lips quirk a bit. "So... I was building to a pretty big one there. Would you mind if we...?"

"Feet first?" I ask. She nods, holding up two fingers. "I'm all yours," I assure her.

"Yes," she says, "you are." I descend rapidly, carried between her hands to the paradise between her legs. She straightens my body, aims me, and I sink up to my ankles into her pussy. Slowly she dips me further, swallowing me whole, until one arm and most of my chest are sealed within. I flail with my limbs, while Mom alternates between letting me slide out to my waist and pressing my shoulders with her fingers to drive me back inside.

Heat and moisture and her scent envelop me again, but the ability to breathe makes it all much, much more enjoyable for me. I fuck Mom with my whole body, now using a dolphin kick, now a frog kick, now freestyle. She wails somewhere far above me, hips bucking, pussy lips tightening around my chest, inner walls closing in and caressing me. I am inundated in her juices, basted and baked, and my own orgasm fires off deep within her, sending my sperm spiraling into her soft pink depths.

When the earthquake subsides, she pulls me free of her pussy with a squelching sound and lays me, battered and exhausted, between her mountainous breasts. Our combined fluids slough off my body and drip onto her flawless skin. Her chest rises and falls, rises and falls, as her heavy breathing begins to slow.

"By the goddess," Mom mumbles, "it will be hard to give this up."

I start a little. A sudden irrational fear blossoms in the back of my head. Mom could keep me this height if she wanted to – I'm entirely dependent on her for nourishment. She could sneak a potion or hex into my food quite easily. But would she? I don't think so, which is why the fear is irrational. Right?

I crane my neck, looking up and seeing little but chin, with her head thrown back. "Mom? You are going to give this up, though, right?"

Mom turns her head, squinting one eye to look down at me sandwiched between her tits. "Yes, of course, honey. Why would I do otherwise?"

I turn red, embarrassed at admitting I'm afraid. "I don't know. I just... I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm having fun giving the situation, but..."

"I understand baby. You won't be this size much longer. It's already been almost two days. There can't be much left for you to, um, to endure."

I sigh. "I'm not 'enduring' anything, Mom. But I am trapped like this, even if temporarily." I slowly clamber upright, using Mom's breasts to steady myself on my slickened feet. "But I can't imagine being trapped like this with anyone else. I feel safe with you, and loved. I know you won't do anything consciously to harm me, and I know you're doing your best to make this whole situation as fun as possible." I laugh. "Even if by doing so, you're making it even more fucked up."

Mom laughs a little too. But I can see she's also a little hurt. There's not much I can do about that. I'm being entirely honest. Giant woman is one thing, incest another. Combine the two?

"Thank you, Robbie," Mom says. "I do want you to be okay. You'll be back to normal soon. Until then, I'll look after you." She picks me up to give me a chaste kiss against my abdomen.

But her lips turn up into a sultry tilt. "And drain you dry every chance I get," she adds, giving my diamond hard cock a slurp between her lips which cleans off cum, precum, and vaginal fluids. Before I know it, I'm fucking her face again, dumping another in a seemingly endless series of loads into her mouth.

13.

We settle down to watch television for a while, me sitting contentedly between Mom's mountainous breasts. It isn't long before I notice Mom's breathing becoming deep and regular, but not until she is gently snoring do I look up. She's definitely out. No wonder, as it's been an emotionally and physically draining day.

I look around, wishing I could find a blanket or something to throw over her. I know there are some in the closet between the living room and kitchen, but there's no way at my present height that I could open the door, wrestle the blanket out, and drag it across the room, let alone drape it over her.

So I try waking her, to no avail. She might have been lightly dozing before, but now she's completely out of it. I lean back against one of Mom's soft, firm tits and contemplate my next move. Staying here with her would be unwise, as she has pointed out a few times. Likewise, I don't want to return to her bedroom, in case she wakes up and heads to bed. In the dark, with me unconscious, she might accidentally crush me.

Guess I'm spending the night in my room. Don't know why that depresses me so much – it is my room, after all. I give Mom one last peck on her full lips that she barely feels and slip off of her body, half-hoping that she'll wake up as I do. But she remains asleep, and I make my way upstairs on rubber band legs by myself.

The second floor is dark, but for a low light Mom left on in her room. Luckily, my bedroom door is still open, and there's just enough ambient light coming through the window that I can navigate my way to the bed. I walk through a battleground strewn with Mom's castoff clothes, and I pause a few times to admire the feel and smell of her nightdresses, bras, and panties.

Finally I leap up onto the bed and clamber up onto the stacked pillows. Only a few hours ago, this was the site of the most debauched sexual adventure of my life. Its difficult not to think about her as I lie back, naked, uncovered, on the pillow and try to fall asleep. Absently I stroke my erection, but I'm all too aware that I have nowhere to safely unload. As it is, I'll probably wake up in a wet patch.

I can't wait for this to be over. At the same time... in the deepest, darkest, most twisted and perverse corner of my heart, this experience is amazing and fun. I've discovered fetishes I didn't even know I had. I mean, I am actually kind of enjoying the incest thing. And the size difference between us – I've always been a tit man, and Mom's tits are easily the biggest I've ever seen. The biggest anyone has ever seen.

And the feel of her, the scent of her, what it's like to be inside her, completely inside her... before long I roll over and send my spew jettisoning off the edge of the pillow to splatter on the comforter below. My dick is still hard. I can't help sighing.

I roll over on to my back and stare at the ceiling. Sleep comes eventually, but it takes some time.

Slowly my eyes open. I am lying on the couch in the living room. Warm sunlight drifts into the room through the big bay windows. I am nude, and full-sized, but the silly extra large cock towers from my crotch, erect and angry and leaking precum. I sit up uncertainly, at first wondering how I ended up here and why I'm tall again. The word "dream" echoes in the back of my mind, and I relax slightly. But only slightly.

I look around. Everything looks odd, slightly weird, as if the interior of the house had been stolen and replaced with exact copies.

"Mom?" I say out loud. I glance at the bay windows, half expecting a gigantic gray eye to be peering back at me.

"Down here!" comes a shout at my ankle, high-pitched and feminine. I lean over and see a miniature Mom standing beside the coffee table, looking up at me.

She's about nine inches tall, shorter than a Barbie doll but just as ridiculously proportioned. She is naked, long dark hair spilling down her shoulders, big tits thrust out, long silky legs slightly parted, hands on hips. She is also, I can't help comparing, shorter than my cock.

I can't resist reaching down to grab Mom. She squawks in protest as I sweep her up to chest level. She's warm in my hand, soft and wriggling, and I almost let her drop. She scoots her ass into my palm and grabs my thumbs, bracing herself. "Whoah," she says. "Vertigo like you'd never believe."

"What happened?" I ask.

"You mean why are you big and why am I little?" I nod. "Best guess is that this is another dream. Um, probably mine this time." She looks down at my cock, the head of which brushes my sternum. A huge dollop of glistening precum emerges from the slit and begins the long journey across the swollen head and down the enormous length. Mom swallows, blinking, breathing heavily.

She can't resist dropping a hand to her crotch, but I quickly pull it out of the way with one finger. She looks up at me, ready to reprimand, and I say, "Uh uh uh. Shoe's on the other foot, Mom. I'm calling the shots." She thinks about this for a moment, eventually smiling. "Besides," I add, "this thing could drown you."

"Good point," she admits. She gives my cock a hungry look. "But what a way to go..."

I think a moment. "Hmmm. Where do you keep your cleaning supplies?"

Mom looks at me funny. "Why do I assume my son should know the answer to that? Nevermind. Look under the sink. I think I know what you mean."

Carrying Mom, I head into the kitchen. Under the sink are bottles of cleaning fluid, sponges, and a plastic bucket for mopping. It's clean, so I pull it out and step into the middle of the kitchen. The weight of my cock pulls it away from my chest when I stand. It's almost perpendicular to my body. My swollen balls ache.

With a grin, I set Mom down on my distended cock, sitting right at the base. She sits astride it like a horse, legs spread, her tiny pussy dripping onto my hot, hard flesh. She steadies herself with her palms, throws a look of gratitude mixed with lust over her shoulder at me, and leans forward. Her plush tits press into my cock and her arms and legs wrap around my length, or at least as far around as she can reach.

Mom starts humping my cock, thrusting her hips against me, squeezing me with her arms. My skin is so sensitive I can feel the moisture dripping from her pussy, as well as the moisture from her tongue as she drags it across my length.

Mom hunches her way up my length, dragging her body towards the angry purple cockhead at the far end. I grip the base of my dick and give it a little shake. Mom tightens her grip – but I have my other hand ready to catch her if I need to. She throws another look over her shoulder, this one less amused. But her face twists in pleasure as I slowly extend my thumb between her legs, pressing the pad of my digit against her tiny pussy.

Mom grips my cock and thrusts back against my thumb. It's too wide to enter her, but she's so slick and dilated that it might actually fit. Mom thrashes, her little body twisting and contorting on my cock, against my thumb. She cries out, a piercing wail.

Our link still works in the dream. As her orgasm crests, my first one is triggered as well. Beneath Mom, my massive organ flexes, throbs, and bucks. I have to grab the head of my cock and aim it as the cum thunders up from the base and erupts. Still I'm not quite fast enough. The first ribbon flies across the kitchen floor and splatters the kitchen table. My next rope splatters dully into the bucket, and I keep it aimed as I empty myself utterly. Thick, viscous goo fills the bucket, warm and milky.

Mom's orgasm doesn't really end. "I can feel you cumming," she wails, clutching my erupting organ as tightly as she can, riding it like a bucking bronco. Her extended orgasm extends mine, almost painfully. Cum sloshes in the bucket, rising almost to the rim. Eventually the flood subsides, and I am momentarily empty, but my cock continues to throb and shudder. I have to peel Mom off my cock to get her to calm down, so that I can too.

She's a shuddering, sopping, wailing mess in my palms. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she keeps repeating, shaking in my hands. My cock droops, deflated, and slowly Mom comes back to herself. She looks up at me face and body a rosy color, thighs stained with her juices.

I smile wickedly. "Deep breath, Mom," I say. Her eyes widen in sudden comprehension as I drop her into the bucket. She plummets about a foot and a half – I'm not that cruel – and lands with a splash. Mom sinks beneath the surface for a few seconds. Suddenly I'm worried that I might have to reach down and pull her out, but just as I bend down on one knee and reach toward the bucket, Mom surfaces, spluttering, hair slicked back, cum streaming down her cheeks and lips and neck.

"It's so thick, it's like treading water in heavy cream. Jesus Christ, Robbie, this is insane."

The smell of blueberries is all but overpowering, but the sheer volume of semen ensures there's a bit of a briny smell as well. I wrinkle my nose in distaste, but my dick is starting to stiffen anyway. Probably due to Mom's own arousal.

Mom kicks with her legs and uses cum smeared hands to wipe her eyes clean and sweep jizz out of her hair. She smiles at me, a wide, gooey smile. Her body shudders suddenly, as she is swept up in a mini-orgasm. My cock rises rampant between my legs in response. Mom cries out and slips beneath the surface again. I see bubbles.

Without thinking I jam my hand into the bucket and grope for her. My fingers wrap around her in seconds and I pull her free from the morass with a slurping sound. Mom coughs weakly and expels a huge dollop of semen from her mouth. My hand and wrist are coated in the stuff, but I don't have time to be disgusted.

With my free hand I wipe Mom clean, pulling strands of cum off of her dainty body. I get her face clear quickly. Mom coughs. "Well," she says eventually, "you'd think that in a dream, I'd be able to swim through that without drowning." She looks up at me. "Just sitting in that pool made me cum, and I stopped swimming in place, just sank. Thanks, baby."

"No problem, Mom." Despite the situation, my dick is huge and weighty again. "We should clean you up. Upstairs or downstairs sink?"

Mom gives me a look. "This is a dream, Robbie. Normal rules don't apply." And just like that, she is clean and dry, without a trace of goo on her. My hands are clean as well. And in fact, I realize we aren't in the kitchen any longer.

We're in the backyard, but not the actual backyard with Mom's herb garden and the clothesline and the picnic table, but the dream backyard, with the big pool and the high fence. Curiously, the pool has no water in it. And its Olympic sized, which means a few of the neighbor's houses have disappeared with the expansion of the yard.

I'm crouching on the deck, in the same posture I held in the kitchen, with Mom in my hands. Slowly I stand up. Mom scampers to her feet in my palms. She crosses her arms in front of her breasts and does a quick nod of her head that causes her dark hair to swirl around her. She's doing the other one now; not the witch, but the genie. I expect to see Mom jump up several dress sizes, but instead she dwindles in my palm. I look around in alarm, realizing that she's making me grow this time. All around me the world shrinks. My head swims with sudden vertigo, but somehow I keep Mom in my hands.

The house drops out of view as the neighborhood expands beneath me. My vantage point changes second by second. In only moments, I have swelled to an impressive fifty foot height. My horsecock extends out from my crotch almost a third of my height – about fifteen feet from base to angry tip. This is getting ridiculous.

Mom swells in my palm, shooting up to her regular height, which means she's still pretty tiny.

"I want a proper swim," she says. "I want you to fill the pool."

I shrug. All in a day's work, I suppose. The expected crowd doesn't materialize to gawk and stare; maybe they all moved away after the last dream. I look down at Mom, sitting in my palm with an expectant look in her eyes.

I bring her up to my face and stick my tongue out at her. Mom laughs. "Be careful – I'm ticklish," she says, but I ignore her plea, lashing at her plush little body with my moist tongue. Mom squirms, at first laughing and trying ineffectually to fend off my tongue, but gradually beginning to moan and thrust her hips. I lick her full breasts, her sweetly rounded belly, her lean arms and long legs. I suck each foot into my mouth and lick her toes. I plant a kiss on each tiny breast, her belly, and between her legs. I spread her legs, bringing her crotch to my lips, and begin to assault her sopping wet pussy.

As I do, I feel huge phantom hands begin to sweep along the log-like length of my distended cock. My tongue is too big and clumsy to enter Mom, but licking her with the tip seems to be doing the trick, as she starts to cry out and shudder in my palm, arching her back and forcing her hips against my mouth.

I feel the familiar tingle at the base of my foreign cock, and grip it with one hand. I aim the hose at the pool and let it unload. Streamer after streamer explodes from my cock, showering the yard, spraying everywhere. A ribbon of jizz hammers the house next door, shattering windows and knocking in a wall. Most of it ends up in the pool, which gradually begins to fill. I keep teasing Mom's lips with my tongue, driving her mad, extending her orgasm, and my own continues unabated.

Finally, the huge pool is filled appreciably, and my flood subsides. I squeeze out the last few droplets on the deck, where they make slippery puddles.

Both of us are gasping and breathing heavily. I set Mom down on the deck. She smiles at me, glowing, her breasts heaving and her knees almost buckling. I feel a little weak kneed myself, and decide to settle down on my haunches.

Mom waits until I'm seated before taking a running dive, slicing into the pool of cum gracefully. She swims around, from one end to the other, splashing around, having a grand time. In the shallow end she shudders her way through three more orgasms, rubbing cum soaked thighs together while sheets of jizz pour down her chest and back, coat her ass, make her hair and face sticky. The first one brings me erect again, and I have to aim myself into the street for the second two, creating a river of bodily fluids that that laps at cars and driveways, eventually flowing viscously into the sewers.

When I turn around, Mom climbs out of the pool. Rivers of cum flow off her body, dripping from her hair, her breasts, her stomach, her legs. She shakes, sending gooey droplets soaring through the air. She crosses slickened arms and nods her head quickly, and is suddenly clean and unmarked. Another nod and she doubles in size, growing rapidly until she matches my own height.

Normally, she's a few inches shorter than me, but she looks me in the eye right now. She's gorgeous. Long dark hair swirling around her shoulders, huge gravity defying breasts, narrow waist, broad hips, long luscious legs, neatly trimmed coral pink pussy. With her gigantic as me, this is a little too much like seeing Mom naked at normal size, and that's actually kind of weird. It's as though the difference in height allowed my brain to rationalize the whole incest angle a bit. She's not my Mom; she's a giantess, a goddess, that sort of thing.

But there she is looking me in the eye with a saucy glint and a sexy smirk, and there's no denying that this is my mother. The woman who gave birth to me, raised me, nursed my hurts, celebrated my victories, made me dinner, washed my clothes, and loved me. The weirdest thing is that I still really want to fuck her.

Mom walks around the house towards me. She opens her arms and I take her into a tight embrace. My cock is sandwiched between us, the head nudging up against the underside of her right breast. Mom kisses me fiercely, her tongue thrusting in my mouth to wrestle with my own. I surprise myself a little by kissing her back, just as hard and just as eager.

My hands caress her back, gliding down across her smooth flesh to cup and knead the globes of her ass. Mom moans into my mouth. She reaches between us to grip my rampant tool, slick with cum and precum. Her fingers slide up and down its length.

She breaks away from my kiss. "You're going to fuck Mommy," she says breathlessly, "and you're going to fuck the neighborhood when you do. Later, maybe, we'll fuck the whole city."

She does the quick nod thing and the world swims again. Both of us grow as the world dwindles around us. A hundred feet tall, two hundred, three hundred. Houses are crushed to kindling beneath our expanding feet. The street buckles. Car alarms shrill.

Mom looks like she might nod again, but I put my hands on her shoulders and gently push. She smirks, and slowly kneels. Her hands are busy sweeping up and down my cock. Its length is about a quarter of my overall height. Fifty feet long. Ridiculous doesn't begin to describe it. Mom's lips join her hands as they run up and down my length. She kisses my cock, lightly at first, then stronger, until she is sucking the mammoth head into her mouth and slurping at the precum oozing from it.

I admire the view. I cast my gaze about at the tiny neighborhood and equally tiny city that sprawls at our feet. It looks curiously empty, for all the little houses and miniature cars and trees and roads. I'd expect a crowd of people watching the giants fuck, but there's no one. No one even fleeing.

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

Mom slurps, releases me from between her lips. "I sent them away. It's just a dream, but I don't want to hurt anyone even in a dream. Property, on the other hand...?" She lets go of my cock and curls backward, lying down. Houses crunch beneath her back, ass, and legs. She spans several blocks, and her long dark hair spills across a main thoroughfare. Strands tangle in a garish fast food joint's sign.

Mom spreads her legs and beckons to me. I kneel down between her legs and aim my monstrous cock at her moist, pink gash. My glans nudges her lips open and I slide into her pussy in one smooth movement. She is tight and warm and wonderful, stretching to accommodate my girth. Mom fucks back at me with her hips, and I start to pound her. The earth beneath us literally moves. Buildings collapse. Streets crack open. Miniature explosions blossom as gas mains rupture and power lines collapse.

Mom's legs wrap around my waist and she throws her weight against me. We roll over, entwined, and I feel houses and buildings crunch beneath my back. Mom straddles me, riding me to orgasm as we destroy the city around us. I grab her huge, bouncing tits with both hands and knead them, enjoying their heft and softness.

Mom slams her pelvis down into mine and lets loose a roar that shatters windows for miles and miles. I crest along with her, jettisoning rivers of cum into her heated depths. Under my back, the earth cracks open, grinding and rumbling.

When I open my eyes, I am lying on a pillow in my bedroom, on my side. My cock is deflated, but there's a puddle of cum cooling on the side of the pillow. With a grunt, I drag myself to my feet and find another part of the bed to curl my tired body upon. I feel sleep overtake me once more, hoping that I'll be able to dream alone, or better yet, not dream at all.

14.

Sunlight streams through the blinds into my room when I awake. I am still tiny, still horny, which is getting old. When does this stupid hex end? When does my life get back to normal? How many more days of debauchery do I have to look forward to? And why am I so ambivalent about them?

As a young guy, this should be some kind of dream come true. To be used as a beautiful woman's sex toy, no strings attached, would be the secret hope of most guys my age. But the fact that the beautiful woman in question is my mother, and the fact that I'm stuck at the approximate height of nine inches, tends to sour my overall enjoyment. I go back and forth on the experience almost by the second. And I'm worried that the "forth" part, where I'm excited and enjoying myself, is purely the result of the spell involved. While my disquiet and reservations are my true feelings. Even after the talk Mom and I had yesterday, I feel uncertain, unbalanced, unnatural.

I sigh, loudly, to no one in particular.

At least my dreams last night weren't as disturbing as the night before.

"Robbie?" I hear my mother call my name. She must be awake too, and wondering where I am. Without thinking, I call back to her, but immediately smile in chagrin. My tiny voice isn't going to carry all the way to the first floor. I clamber to my feet, bounce off the bed, and hurry down the hall.

Mom is halfway up the steps when I reach them. Her lush body is wrapped loosely in a blanket, but otherwise she appears naked, her hair disheveled, makeup marred, looking disoriented and concerned.

"There you are!" she says when I appear. She scampers up the steps, almost tripping on the edge of the blanket, and scoops me up with her free hand, the other one holding the blanket closed around her. She brings me close to her breast, pushing me against their plushness. I can hear and feel the beat of her heart, pounding now but beginning to slow. "When I woke up and didn't see you, I panicked. I was worried something happened to you."

"I'm okay, Mom," I say. "I went up to my room to sleep. I wished we could have cuddled, but after all your warnings, I figured I should find somewhere else to rest."

She nods. "That makes sense." She blinks, suddenly teary eyed. "Oh, the things that go through your head when you're not quite awake, and worried about your boy." She kisses me chastely on the top of my head, and hugs me close, splayed against her breasts. My dick, heretofore at half-mast, quickly begins to harden and lengthen.

Mom chuckles, feeling my hardness press against her sternum. "And I see everything is in working order." Mom hitches up her makeshift skirt and begins to carry me toward her bedroom.

"So far, so good," I say. I can't resist wiggling my hips a little, rubbing my length against her skin. Once again, all the doubts and concerns that plague me when I am alone have fled when I am in close proximity to her. She drives me crazy, and whether I like it or not, my body wants her. Needs her, even. Is it the hex? Some dark corner of my psyche? Who can say. At this point, in this moment, I'm not sure I care.

In the bedroom, Mom sweeps the blanket off and throws it to the floor. As I suspected, she is naked beneath. Gloriously naked, just as I left her the night before. I don't know why I ever thought I would get tired of admiring her incredible body, especially at her amazing size. Those huge tits, those long legs, the pretty pink lips at her core. Everything magnified, not just in size, but in attractiveness. My mother is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Dreams aside, I wonder what it would be like to be with her at full size – and quickly quash that thought. That's dangerous.

Mom hums, striding through her room to the bathroom. She sweeps the shower curtain aside and turns on the faucet. Hot water cascades down. Mom steps under it. Water pours over her shoulders and chest and washes over me. It's like standing in a heavy rain, or under a waterfall. I drop my head to keep breathing.

The world spins suddenly. Mom sets me down at the edge of the tub. She smiles and winks and begins to soap herself up. I get to watch. Mom covers her shoulders, arms, breasts, belly and thighs with suds. She caresses her legs with long fingered hands, creating soapy trails along their pale, muscular length. She stands up. The shower pounds against her back, but her front remains coated in a fine sheen of slick bubbles.

"Now where did I put that loufa?" she asks, pretending to think. I can see it over her shoulder, hanging from the shower head. She shrugs and leans down to scoop me up with slick, soapy hands. I brace myself as she presses my back against her shoulder and begins to scrub herself with me. It's not unpleasant. She uses light pressure, and her skin is smooth and soft to begin with, made only moreso by the layer of soap covering her from neck to foot. The soap soaks into my skin as well as she sweeps me across her curves, over her breasts, along her nipples, down through her cleavage, across her belly. She switches her grip and runs my back along one arm, then the other.

My dick throbs hungrily between my legs.

I grip Mom's fingers and try to enjoy the ride. She is being careful with me, I know, but I'm still bouncing around a bit. She spins me around and pushes me face first into the tangle of curls above her pussy. My pelvis mashes against her labial lips. My cock bounces against her, and I reach between us to search for her clit. But before I do she pulls me away again and rubs my back and ass along an inner thigh.

I look up at her pussy, flushed with passion and coated in suds, and wish I could stay there a while. She rubs me across her other thigh, but then sets me down again at the edge of the tub. Water laps at my feet and suds and bubbles drip off of my body, along with a river of precum spraying from the end of my cock.

Mom turns, letting the water wash the soap off her front and allowing me to admire her back, and where it meets her legs. She looks over her shoulder at me with a naughty smile, and proceeds to finish cleaning herself more conventionally. She does her hair last, and when that is clean, turns the shower down but not off.

Mom leans over, huge breasts swaying overhead, to grasp my soapy body in both hands. I fly into the air and under the water, which hoses me off. Mom sweeps a few fingers up and down my erection, bringing me to a quick but enjoyable orgasm. My seed sprays across her hands, but is quickly swept away by the shower. Mom shakes and shudders with her own small orgasm, gritting her teeth and riding it out without dropping me.

We leave the shower. Mom sets me down on the sink and proceeds to wash her face, apply makeup, dry and style her hair. She leaves me briefly to fetch a terrycloth robe from the bedroom. Mom smiles as she scoops me up once more and drops me unceremoniously into one of the robe's capacious pockets.

"A little breakfast, I think, and then we'll be able to start our day," she says.

"And what are we going to do today?" I ask as I bounce around in her pocket. I swing back and forth as she walks, and sometimes bump up against her thigh. There's almost enough room for me to stretch out. It's like being in a moving hammock. All things considered, I'd rather be in her hands.

We reach the kitchen quickly and Mom putters around, making toast and cereal and mixing up some fresh yogurt and raspberries. She sets me down on the table eventually, gives me a manageable amount of food, and devours her own breakfast quickly. I scratch at the beard I'm growing, and lament the lack of a razor. Haven't brushed my teeth or flossed in days, either.

Mom looks out in the backyard while she cleans off the dishes, humming to herself. I watch, admiring her calves beneath the hem of her robe, as well as the sweet round humps of her asscheeks, which even the thick terrycloth cannot hide. My cock is stiff, standing proudly from between my legs, and drops of precum slide down its length. I'm throbbing with need, but for now with my belly full I am content merely to admire her from afar.

Mom turns to me. The sash of the robe has loosened slightly, allowing the front to part a bit and expose a tantalizing amount of cleavage. "Let's get some fresh air today. You must be tired of being cooped up in the house."

I am, but... outside? "Are you sure about that? Is it safe?"

Mom nods. "We'll just do some sunbathing in the backyard. I'll get a few things ready, and no one will see a thing. Promise."

"Okay," I say.

Mom beams at me. She bounces out of the room, huge tits jiggling enticingly, robe swirling around her luscious legs. I think of that old saying, "I hate it when she goes, but I love watching her leave."

Mom returns in short order, clad in t-shirt, jean shorts, and chunky sandals. Her braless tits sway underneath the shirt, which appears two sizes too small, molding itself to her perfect body like a second skin. She has a basket in her hands, filled with all sorts of bottles and implements whose function and purpose I can only guess. She pulls a pair of dark sunglasses out of the basket and slips them on.

I jump down from the table when she exits through the sliding glass door that leads onto the back patio. I leap up onto the counter, to the window over the sink, and watch Mom walk around the perimeter of the backyard. We have a high fence around the property, just like in my dreams, but for the first time I realize the old fence I'm familiar with has been replaced. Which is a good thing, as it was pretty weatherbeaten and old. Must have happened while I was in Australia.

Bushes and flowers encircle the back yard, and the furthest third of the yard, closest to the fence, is where Mom plants her herbs and vegetables. It's early in the season yet, but plenty of green growing things are scattered about the place.

Mom pulls a piece of chalk from her basket and scribbles circles and glyphs and weird letters along parts of the fence. She steps into the middle of the yard and pulls out a bottle, which she points into the air and shakes, sending the contents spilling out. I expect a liquid, but instead its some kind of glittery powder, the exact color of which I can't make out in the bright sunlight.

This is pretty weird to watch. I know Mom is a witch. Besides telling me so, the proof is in my reduced stature and the way the hex has altered our sexual boundaries. But still, it's odd seeing her do magic (which is what I presume she is doing).

Finally satisfied, Mom returns to the house, pulls off her glasses, and sets the basket on the kitchen table.

I leap down to the counter. "What was that all about?"

"Just a few charms to maintain our privacy. The markings on the fence will compel people to look away from our yard, and the fairy powder will ensure that, even if someone does peek over the fence or between some boards, they'll see what the expect to see."

"And what will people expect to see?"

Mom smiles an enigmatic smile. "I'm going to change into a swimsuit and get a few things. Can you entertain yourself while I do?"

I'd rather watch her get dressed, but she does call the shots. I shrug noncommittally, but Mom takes it as a yes. She swirls out of the kitchen. I hear her hurry up the stairs to the second floor.

I leap down from the counter and approach the sliding glass doors. My cock bobs between my legs. I leave drops of juice behind wherever I go. I'm getting used to being like this, but I don't want to. I'm horny as all get out, but resist the urge to rub one out, deciding to wait for Mom. It's more fun with her anyway.

After a while, Mom returns, humming to herself again. She has her dark hair up, and mostly hidden underneath a broad brimmed sunhat. She is also wearing a short silk robe, which only covers her upper arms, torso, and the tops of her thighs. I've never seen Mom in a bikini, not for real, and I wonder if she has one on now. She's only ever put on a one-piece before, as far as I know.

She ignores me, puttering around the kitchen, pouring herself a tall glass of lemonade to which she adds a liberal amount of tequila and an obnoxious number of ice cubes. She also has a large bottle of sunscreen. She grabs her sunglasses and slips them on. Her flip flops slap against her heels. She swings the sliding door open and steps outside.

I half expected her to pick me up, but I guess she isn't going to, so I leap after her, out into the open air. Beneath the patio awning it is cool, but the air outside is still warmer than inside the house. It feels good, though, especially the light breeze that swirls through the yard.

Mom pulls a low plastic table off the patio into the middle of the yard, setting her drink and sunscreen down on it. She saunters back, hips swaying, to grab a lawn chair, unfolding it and laying it beside the table.

I watch her carefully, looking around the backyard. It occurs to me that stray cats or birds of prey could cause me some serious difficulty. Even a squirrel or a chipmunk could ruin my day. Never mind the insects. I suppress a shudder.

Mom is inscrutable behind her glasses and hat, but I notice her untying the sash of her robe and slipping it off her shoulders. She pulls the garment off and lays it on the headrest of the chair.

My dreams come true. She owns a bikini. And it's a small one – although anything would look small trying to contain her humongous breasts and stretched across her wide hips. Its dark purple, made of some kind of shiny material, with white ties at the back of her neck and on her hips. The fabric is abbreviated, covering only the essentials, which means there are three tiny triangles on the front and one tiny triangle on the back. The bottoms mold themselves to Mom's pussy, showing off an impressive camel toe, while her huge hardened nipples tent the top. She looks phenomenal. I don't know why it is that seeing a woman barely clothed is more exciting than seeing her completely nude, but it's a fact. And the view puts a little more steel into my already painfully hard cock.

Mom settles down into the chair, stretching her long legs out, and kicks off her chunky sandals. Her tits bounce with each movement. Mom crooks a finger at me.

The grass is springy under my feet, and the ground is uneven, with more give than the floors inside the house. It serves to add a little spring to my already impressive leaps. It only takes me a few jumps to reach the chair. I land beside Mom's shapely ankle. Her full lips curl up into a sexy smile.

Her fair skin glows in the warm sunshine. I feel my own body heating up, and am glad of the several months I spent in Australia working on my tan. Still, there are parts of my anatomy that I don't want getting sunburned.

I make my way awkwardly along the chair, slipping and sinking into the fabric, forced to lean on Mom's smooth and silky leg. Mom leans back, thrusting her tits into prominence, presumably watching me, though her eyes are hidden by her sunglasses.

When I reach her hips, I lift myself up onto Mom's thigh and stand with hands on my waist, looking up at her. "I need some sunblock," I say.

Mom nods. "I do too, but we should take care of you first, I suppose." I feel her hands close around my legs and lift me up. My trunk wobbles, and I brace myself on the back of her thumbs. Mom lifts me to her lips, which she moistens with her huge pink tongue. I get a kiss on my abs and a long lick along my torso. Mom opens her mouth wide and lays my cock along her tongue. Slowly she closes her lips, trapping me between them. She sucks on me like a straw, gently but urgently. My hips jerk forward in response.

This close, I can see her eyes through the darkened lenses. She is watching me intently, her eyes boring into mine. I shift my hands to her upper lip, just beneath her flaring nostrils. I want to thrust hard, drive my cock between her full, moist lips again and again until I explode, but her hands keep me rigid. She is in control. I haven't got the leverage.

She teases me with tongue and lips. Her saliva coats my length, my balls, my thighs, my abdomen. Her tongue undulates, toying with my dick, corkscrewing it around, raising it up and down. It is torturous, but sweet torture. I'm getting close. I risk a glance over my shoulder, even knowing how both hands are gripping me, just to make sure she isn't teasing herself. Mom's thighs rub together, and her bikini bottoms are bunching up against her pussy. The shiny material shows no sign of the moisture I am sure is seeping into it.

I turn back to her face. "Mom, I-" I begin to gasp out, but lose my train of thought as my sensitive cockhead nudges against the roof of her mouth.

Mom releases me briefly. Licks her lips. "Go ahead, baby. Cum for Mommy." She swallows me again. I thrust with all my strength, still held tight, but as her tongue seems to curl around my distended cock, I feel the charge build at its base. I explode in a shuddering climax, jetting rope after rope of creamy goo directly into her mouth. Mom moans with her own mini-orgasm, linked to mine by the hex. My cock throbs and shudders, spraying Mom's tongue with my seed. She opens her mouth to show me the lake of cum pooling on her tongue, even as the last few spurts jettison from the apple-sized head of my dick. When at last the flood subsides, and I slump against her upper lip, gasping, Mom curls her tongue and noisily swallows my cum. She smiles sweetly and lashes at my crotch with her tongue once more, cleaning me up a bit.

Holding me in one hand, Mom adjusts the chair so that she reclines further. She sets me on her smooth, warm belly. I watch as she picks up the bottle of sunscreen, almost as tall as I am, and squirts some in her palm. She scoops up some on the fingertips of her other hand and begins to apply it to me in short brushstrokes, covering my body quickly and efficiently. She lingers on my waist and crotch, swooping slickened fingers along my rampant length to ensure I am thoroughly coated. At last, satisfied, she releases me, wipes her hands on her thighs, and picks up her drink. She takes a few swallows. Condensation from the glass drips off and falls to her cleavage, where cold drops leave trails down her pale skin.

Mom adjusts the chair again, until she is lying flat on her back. She tilts her hat a little to keep her face in shade. Mom picks up the bottle of sunscreen again. "Ready to do me, sweetie?"

I look up and down her immense body, admiring the curves and valleys or her supremely feminine form. It will take me hours to cover her whole body, rubbing the lotion in with my tiny hands. But who am I to argue?

While I debate, Mom hefts the sunscreen and squeezes a few dollops in her hands. She sweeps them along her shoulders and arms, giving herself a good coat. Again, she rubs the excess off on her thighs. She sips her drink again, watching me through her sunglasses.

I stand on her belly, watching. "Where do you want me to start?"

She thinks a moment. "Let's start at the bottom and work our way up." I look behind me as she waggles her toes. I shrug and start making my way down her hip, along her thigh, across her shin and down to her right foot. Mom assists by squeezing sunscreen onto her ankles. She leaves huge piles of the creamy stuff, about knee high to me.

Mom extends her dainty feet in a pointe position, and I sidle up beside the one on the right. I scoop up sunscreen in both arms and smear it across the top of her foot, using both limbs and chest to spread the material as much as possible. I repeat the action with her other foot. I touch up a bit, even getting between her toes, which elicits a high-pitched giggle from the other end of the lounge chair.

There's still a little bit of fluid on her ankles, so I sweep back up her shins, making it about halfway on each before I run out. I try to move quickly and efficiently, rubbing the lotion in as much as I can, but I leave a few streaks behind. Mom smoothes them out with a few flicks of her hands. She squeezes out more sunscreen on her knees and thighs as she does, encouraging me to keep going.

My dick rubs along her skin as I go to work, leaving a gleaming trail of precum along her legs as I scurry back and forth. I rub the lotion in where I can, trying to cover as much area as possible. More sunscreen ends up on me than on her, though, and I end up rubbing my whole body across her left thigh. Her skin is silky and smooth, the leg well muscled and beautifully sculpted. It doesn't take long for the friction, lotion, and proximity to Mom's body and scent to set me off. I deposit a load of my own cream on her leg. She shivers as it runs down her thigh and pools on the lounger. Mom's hand flashes over and by me, rubbing my goo into her skin until it gleams wetly.

She picks me up and sets me down on her other thigh, urging me gently but insistently with a finger presses against my buttocks. "You still have a lot of ground to cover, little man," she says breathily. This close to juncture between her legs, I can smell her arousal, and the effect my own orgasms have had on her. So I repeat myself on her other leg, rolling my whole body around, basically humping myself against her muscular thigh. Soon I am spraying my jism again, decorating her leg with the fruit of my passion.

Mom presses her palm into my back and pushes me around on her leg, smearing me in cum and lotion. Her other hand slips beneath the panel of shiny fabric barely covering her crotch and goes to work on her steaming wet gash.

While she teases herself, and phantom sensations stroke my still rampant member, Mom picks up the sunscreen and sprays a few dollops onto her rounded belly. She sets the bottle aside and picks me up, only to unceremoniously drop me in the middle of the lotion. The one hand flies to her drink while the other continues to play with herself.

More drops of condensation decorate her cleavage as she swallows greedily. I roll around on her stomach, smearing her with lotion, coating myself in the process. I get to work, pushing and rubbing and humping away, trying to cover as much as possible. I have to bend down to slip beneath her left arm while her hand is busy at her crotch. I coat her stomach and her hips and her ribs and as far as I can reach down either side of her body. And I erupt across her wrist and hand. Semen splatters her bikini bottoms, sounding like rain on a tarp as it lands.

Mom moans and shivers as a light orgasm sweeps across her body. Her hand comes free and she brings a dripping finger to my face, rubbing her own juices across my cheeks. I lap at her fingertip, tasting her, drinking her in, but I doubt she feels it.

Mom sits up a bit and undoes the tie at the back of her neck and the one across her back. She lifts her bikini top away and lets it flutter to the ground. Behind her dark sunglasses, Mom smiles lustily at me. She grabs the bottle of sunscreen with both hands and sprays long ribbons of lotion across each breast. The white material brings to mind other things, and I fully expect to be adding my own "lotion" to her tits in a few moments.

Mom leans back. Her tits shift and spread across her chest, although not as much as you'd expect for a woman her age and for breasts of that size. They're supernaturally firm and perky, and she thrusts them further into prominence by pressing her biceps against them while crossing her wrists over her crotch. This also neatly pens me in against her abdomen, encouraging me to advance in only one direction.

Both of Mom's hands get busy as I clamber across her belly and into her cleavage. The huge mounds of her spectacular milky white breasts spread out on either side of me, capped by gigantic, beautifully pink and beautifully engorged nipples. With a grin, I set to it, once again throwing myself bodily against her flesh, using my entire body as the instrument to spread lotion across her vulnerable, pale skin. My cock drags across her, through streamers of lotion, adding my own moisture to the mix. I sweep my arms back and forth, spreading the stuff, rubbing it into her skin.

When I am on my hands and knees, straddling her right nipple, my cock awkwardly jabbed into her soft, firm flesh, I feel the slight pressure of her fingertips against my back. Her moisture drips onto my back as she presses me into her tit. "Fuck that titty, baby," Mom cooes, and I can hardly argue. I hump against her, sliding my slickened cock against her, while her hardened nipple presses into my chest. I grab it in both arms and squeeze and pull against it. Her breast jiggles beneath me, flesh rippling with the impact as my body slams against her again and again. Her fingers press into my back, pinning me in place, driving me on, as her juices drip from her digits and pool on my back. It doesn't take long for me to cum, gushing heartily onto her breast. My seed splatters and slides across her lotion-moistened flesh, caroming off her nipple and spraying in an arc onto her ribs and flank.

Mom sweeps me up and throws me a little roughly onto her other tit, while her free hand continues to rub lotion and now cum into her other breast. I set to without any further encouragement. Sweat drips from my body, and every muscle aches pleasantly.

Upside down across Mom's breast, I grab her nipple with both hands and start to pull and tug. My hips jab into the upper slope of her tit, allowing my engorged cock to glide across her moistened skin. Mom cups her breast with one hand and begins to knead and caress it, which causes it to shake and jiggle beneath me. I ride it like a bucking bronco; the most sensuous amusement park ride ever.

Mom's other hand returns to her pussy, slipping beneath her bikini bottoms to tease her pink folds. The phantom sensations of her masturbating are added to the real sensations of my cock sliding across her breast. I bounce on her luscious breast, rising and falling as I fuck her tit. My hypersensitive cock is erupting in no time, adding another layer of cream to her glistening skin. Mom's entire body shudders beneath me as she rides her own orgasm. It's like riding an earthquake.

Mom lifts my semi-limp body away from her. She holds me in her hand while she smears the last of my cum and a little bit of sunscreen across her exposed skin.

"How are you feeling?"

I try to catch my breath. "A little wrung out," I finally admit.

Mom laughs. "Yeah, I'll bet. I have to say, even with the hex in place your stamina is impressive."

This causes my chest to puff out with perverse pride. "Thanks, but I honestly can't help myself."

Mom laughs again, pleased. "Shall we relax and catch some rays?" She lays me down between her colossal breasts.

I crane my neck, trying to look her in the eye and instead catching just her chin. "Are you sure you want me here?" I spread my arms out and put each hand on one of her breasts. I can feel her heartbeat against my back. "You're going to have an interesting tan line to explain."

Mom shrugs, which causes her enormous breasts to shake, rattling me between them. I don't complain. "The only person who will even see it besides you is Clark. And if he can't handle it, then he isn't the one for me."

I turn my head, surveying the huge expanse of Mom's luscious body. I'm silent a moment. "And who is the one for you, Mom?" I hear myself say.

She sighs. It's her turn to be quiet. Just when I think she isn't going to answer at all, she clears her throat and says, "There's only ever been one before. Your father. I miss him still. No one is ever going to replace him, or what we had together." She nudges the back of my head with a finger. "You're pretty close, especially after the last few days, and you look so much like him it's scary sometimes. But I don't really think there's another 'one' for me."

Not necessarily the answer I wanted to hear, but then again, it's probably better than what I wanted to hear. I think I'm even afraid to admit to myself what I was hoping for.

"No, Clark will either accept it, or he won't," Mom continues, missing my reaction. Which is for the best. "In which case he'll be out of my life. I'll be disappointed, but not really sad."

I cough. "I thought you liked him."

"I do," Mom assures me. "But we're not what you'd call serious." She laughs suddenly. "Plus I've been cheating on him terribly, and he'd be well within his rights to dump me outright."

For the first time, I feel guilty about that. I hadn't really considered how my Mom's boyfriend might feel about the last few days. I hadn't really considered how anyone would feel about it, actually. I kind of assumed no one but Mom and I would ever know about it. But then I remember Mom explained to Clark what had happened, and he promised to stay away until the hex blew over. And that makes me feel even more guilty. I remember that my first impression was that he was a pretty nice guy, and nothing that has happened since changes that impression. Crap. I feel lower than dirt.

Mom nudges the back of my head again. "What are you thinking, Robbie?"

"I just, uh, feel bad about what we're doing. Because of what we're doing to Clark. He seems like a nice guy."

"Don't let the nice guy act fool you, dear. Clark's an adult, and a witch himself. He understands. We're not fully in control right now, and even if we were..." she trails off.

I twist in her cleavage, looking up towards her face. "Yeah?"

Her cheeks darken. "Even if we were," she finishes, "I wouldn't trade the last few days for anything. This is the most fun I've had in years, Robbie. It's inappropriate, probably unhealthy for us both, and it's perverse, but damn, it's been fun."

I laugh, suddenly and inexplicably feeling better. "Me too, Mom. Me too." I roll over completely and give her an awkward, tiny hug. Mom places her palm against my back in reciprocation.

I release a yawn I can't quite stifle.

"Is my little man tired?" Mom asks with a smile. I nod, my eyes suddenly drooping, as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. The exertion, the sun, and the closeness of Mom all combine to make me feel groggy. Mom pats me on the back and caresses me with a few fingers. "Rest, baby. Mama's right here."

I drift off into unconsciousness in moments, warm and safe and secure.

15.

When I come to, the sun has shifted. The brim of Mom's hat casts a shadow across the top half of my body. A cool breeze washes over us, and I shiver slightly.

Mom has been dozing, but she perks up when I start to move. "What time is it?"

She sits up a bit and stretches. "Almost lunch time. I think we should go in, take a shower, have a bite to eat. Then we'll figure out what we're doing with the rest of our day."

My engorged cock flexes involuntarily. I have a few ideas about how to spend the afternoon.

Mom leaves the lounger and the table where they are, but gathers up me, her empty glass, the sunscreen, and her discarded garments and walks into the house.

Mom sets me on top of the kitchen island and puts her glass in the sink. I admire the curves of her body, thankful that she hasn't put either the bikini top or the robe back on yet.

I feel a sudden sharp pain in my stomach that sends me doubling over. I grip my sides. The pain throbs again. Mom turns slowly, sensing my distress. Her eyes grow wide, and I'm surprised to see tears blossom within them. Without hesitating, though, she cradles me in both hands and carries me down to the floor.

The pain in my gut radiates outward, down along each limb, up through my neck and into my skull. It bounces around between my ears and I almost black out. My vision swims. I feel as though my body is made of taffy. Soft and pliable, I am stretching up and outward. The pain rises with each throb, and each throb comes more quickly than the last. Before long, there is nothing but the pain, thundering through my system, washing over me, inundating me.

And then, suddenly, it is gone.

I lie on hands and knees doubled over on the kitchen floor, gasping and shaking and shuddering. My whole body is drenched in sweat. I take deep, shaky breaths that fill my lungs with sweet, sweet air.

I feel hands on my shoulders. Two hands. Oh no. I look up into Mom's face. She looks stricken. Sudden vertigo grips me, my stomach doing flip flops. She's normal, the same size as me, maybe a little shorter. I look around quickly, seeing that the entire kitchen is back to normal. No, not the kitchen. Me. The hex has worn off, finally. I'm back to my regular height.

I'm also buck naked in the middle of our kitchen, my body still sticky with a mix of sunscreen and the coital fluids of myself and my mother. I can't help but notice that she is herself still nude, save for her bikini bottoms and chunky sandals. Her breasts, even at normal size, are magnificent. I can't hide the effect they have on me, and I feel blood surge into my flaccid dick, giving it length and strength as it rises between my legs.

Mom is crying, but she's smiling too. "Are you okay? How do you feel?" Her hands leave my shoulders to cup my face. "You look like you just lost your best friend, sweetie."

I gulp. I suppose in a way I have. I rise to my feet, my hands covering my erection as best I can. Seems silly after the last few days, but the hex is over, and I shouldn't feel this way about her any longer.

"I should... I should... I need a shower," I manage to say.

Mom nods. Her smile falters. She looks so sad. I want to give her a hug. Hell, I want to take her in my arms and kiss her... but I can't. Her own arms lift and she looks for a moment like she might hug me anyway, but I back away slowly, shuffling in my embarrassment and lust.

Mom picks up her robe and slips it on, covering herself finally, and turns away. "Better go take that shower," she says, her voice low.

Again, the urge to take her in my arms is strong. But I scamper away, up the stairs, into the hallway bathroom. I know I am fleeing, but what else can I do?

The next few days are awkward. Neither Mom nor I quite know how to act around one another any longer. I spend as much time away from the house as possible, hanging out with Tony or the other guys when I can. I barely unpack. In fact, I decide to move in with Tony for the duration of the summer. I'm going to be spending most of it down the city at my internship anyway. I can tell it breaks Mom's heart. The look she gives me when I tell her is unmistakable, but she doesn't tell me not to go.

Part of me wishes she would.

I can't help but notice that Clark doesn't come around, and wonder if he's just not by when I am, as if he's avoiding me, or whether Mom broke up with him. I could ask, I suppose, but that would mean actually having a conversation with her, and I do my best to avoid that. Still I pop over the house to do chores, mow the lawn, weed the garden, take out the trash. I just try to do them when I know she's going to be out.

There's a cute girl in my internship program who flirts with me constantly. Short, blonde, petite, great sense of humor. I know I could have her if I wanted to make her mine, if I put in any effort at all. But I'm not interested. My mind is awash with images of a much differently built woman, of plush curves and smooth skin and long, dark hair. None of the women I meet this summer interest me.

I'm a man obsessed. Even with the hex faded, the memories and sensations remain. Every night I masturbate to the memories of that weekend, feeling ashamed and disgusted with myself immediately afterward. I lose weight, because I have no appetite, and my work suffers. I'm distracted, tormented, mind and gut in turmoil.

In mid-July, my supervisor calls me in to his office to find out what is wrong with me. When I interviewed for the position, I was a much different person. Where is that guy now? I make apologies, some lame excuses, and redouble my efforts at work, hoping that if I focus on that, it will distract me from other things.

I know this fugue I am in can't go on, but I don't know what else to do. I don't know what to think or feel. My mind and emotions are awhirl.

A few days after my meeting with my supervisor, I'm thrown another curve ball. Mom sends me a text. "We need to talk," it says. "Dinner, at home, Friday, 6:00."

Right. That's the next day. I want to blow it off, avoid seeing her, being with her – but I miss her. Not just as... as whatever we were that weekend, but as a mom. It's been just the two of us since dad died, and I miss her. And I feel bad about leaving her alone.

So, Friday after work I pour myself into my car and head out of the city. Instead of returning to Tony's to change, I go straight home, still in my suit but with my tie loosened.

Mom's car isn't in the driveway when I arrive, but I'm early. With heavy heart and a constricted gut, I approach the front door and let myself into the house. My house. It feels weird to be here even now. I'm reminded of how I felt in that dream, where everything in the house was stolen and replaced with an exact copy. Only now I feel like a copy, too.

Knowing I will be greeted by silence, I still release a half-hearted "Hello? Mom?" When no one answers, I pull my tie from my throat completely, shrug out of my suit jacket, and hang both on the hat rack near the front door.

I stroll through the house, not sure what I am expecting to see, but not seeing it. Nothing has changed, really.

When I reach the kitchen, I stop in my tracks.

There's a pie cooling in the middle of the island. I sniff the air, and the unmistakable scent of blueberries reaches my nostrils. My mouth starts watering even as my heart constricts. There's a plate, a fork, and a serving knife next to the pie. But no note.

After what seems like an eternity, I slowly walk into the room. I circle the island, as if the pie were some kind of dangerous animal. I guess it is. What does this mean? Is it just a pie, a peace offering, my favorite desert since I was a kid? Or something else?

I stop next to the island. I put my hands down on either side of the pie. I lean over, taking a deep breath, letting the scent of warm blueberries, pie crust, and baked goodness wash over me, through me.

I think about Mom. I think about that weekend. I think about what it meant to both of us, what I hope it meant for her, what I fear it meant for me.

I pick up the knife and fork and cut myself a piece. As I take the first bite, I hear Mom's car pull into the driveway.

The End