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Kyle winced as his mother’s creamy fingertip alit upon the top of his head again and made another softly stroked revolution on his mussed hair. He was beginning to pick up on a pattern. As Roberta curled up in the living room armchair, a goopy romance novel in her fanned fingers, her free hand was never unoccupied: either reaching for the glass wine stem on the coffee table or reaching for the grape-sized head of her adored son to give it a twirl. Every time her enormous hand returned above him, her meaty fingers drove him just a little deeper into the valley between her breasts. One by one, from thumb to pinky, each giant finger caressed at his face and hair. At this point, Kyle’s legs had sunk so deeply into the central point of mashed pressure between her bulbous flesh, he was numb below the knees.

            So bored had Kyle become, after nearly two hours of his mother’s silent reading without releasing him from her tits, he’d even tried reading along with her on the pages of the book, though this only lasted so long before the poor writing and sappy characters made him turn away. In the book, a middle-aged woman of ample assets yet average looks embarked on a quest to charm the pants right off one of her young, strapping employees. By the halfway mark of the novel, the cougar seemed to be having luck, utilizing her powerful position over the guy such that he was compelled to date her and, eventually, go to bed for some vigorous and violently controlled lovemaking. Kyle was certain he’d be ill if he had to watch the words on the pages flip by for any longer.

            Not that he was against the idea of some silence, either. These days Roberta spent so much time concocting new conversations to make him uncomfortable, it was a profound mercy to be relatively left alone. At least with the exception of his naked body being jammed deeper and deeper into the crevice of her muggy breasts while her fingers petted his head. Her choice of after-dinner outfit was more than a little familiar as well, in all the wrong ways. That favorite fluffy robe of hers draped around her wide hips and loping curves, while the only other barrier between Kyle and her horrifically naked body aside from this half-adequate coverage was her underwear: an eggshell-white shade, in both bra and panties. An ironic display of purity.

            Unfortunately, too, Roberta was on her sixth glass of wine now. Her fingers trembled mildly when they met Kyle’s head, several of the fleshy pads knocking him upside the cranium in attempt to gently creep up the back of his neck. Worse, her whole body was radiating heat, in greater measure even than that first despicable dinner date. Her skin prickled with goosebumps and grew sticky beneath the reading light with wine sweat.

            The dampness of Roberta’s breast flesh combined with the heat was making Kyle itch, yet as always, he was too repulsed by what he touched to twitch in any direction for relief. Occasionally the woman’s fingers fastened around Kyle’s shoulders, idly trying to reposition and fidget him back to an optimal position in her cleavage, but this only made it worse. Every few minutes now, Kyle’s body was helplessly spun and ground against the firm, sagging walls of Roberta’s bosom. All the motion and moisture eventually awakened his manhood by force, though thankfully, the disgust he felt at his surroundings outweighed his biological urges.

            “Kyle, dear,” Roberta said. Her thumb poised in the papered spine of the book, halting her reading progress. She still held it aloft, perhaps to keep up the illusion that she was progressing and allay her son’s suspicions. This realization alone made Kyle squirm before she even spoke.

            “Yeah?”

            “We’ve grown… closer through this whole rehabilitation process, as I’m sure you’ll agree. But if we’re going to achieve the kind of resolution the R&R people want for us, I think there are a couple of things we’ve got to set straight. Person-to-person, mother-to-son. All right?”
            “Um. Okay.”

            “Just tell me, honey. No more judgments, no more tricks. Have you been with a woman before? And I do mean been with a woman.”

            Kyle wanted to melt right into a paste and seep out from beneath his mother’s breasts: anything as long as he could escape this moment. It was true, in the past couple years, when he’d become a sexually viable player, he’d taken amusing cares to flaunt his potential conquests to his mother without revealing the reality. Whenever she angrily confronted him with this question in times past, he’d answer in the negative, yet always with a flippant air of sarcasm and a smirk that suggested he was hiding something from her. This he’d done utterly for the entertainment factor of watching his mother fret over him.

            “Mom…”

            “And for God’s sake, don’t you dare do that thing you always do when you crack a smile when you answer, like you think I’m some gullible idiot,” Roberta warned. Her voice quavered with the volume of alcohol flowing through her system. “I want raw, unvarnished truth. If you give me anything else, I will know it, because I’m your mother, and I always know. And if I know that you’ve given me something false, there will be consequences, you mark my words, young man.”

            The boy nodded. This was no time for rebellion, not after the tortuous extended period he’d spent between the woman’s ass cheeks during the last group session. He’d eagerly spend the next month between Roberta’s breasts undergoing personal questioning if it meant avoiding even one more minute squeezed between her beefy buttocks.

            “I swear, Mom,” he murmured. “I haven’t been-been with anyone. I’ve played around a little, but never went… through with it, all the way.”

            “Honest-to-God?”

            “Honest-to-God.”

            “I see. Thank you for telling me the truth,” Roberta said. She furrowed her brow and nodded multiple times in rapid succession, mulling it over. “Well, that simply won’t do, will it?”

            Kyle’s heart splashed into his stomach. What?
            “Uh…”

            “Oh, don’t sound so coy, sweetie. I’m just stating what we’re both thinking. Remember, we’re going for openness here?”

            “Y-You… you always talk about how… how I…”

            “Hush.” Roberta rolled her eyes. At last she shut the romance novel and set it down with a hard clap on the coffee table. In the same reach, she snatched her wine glass and brought the rim to her lips, glugging down the final slurp of wine.  She swished the remnants between her cheeks for a moment, her hungry eyes drinking in Kyle far more fervently than the beverage, and set the empty glass back on the table as well. With both hands free, the woman plucked her son’s arms between each pair of her thumbs and forefingers and pried him up the damp slope of her cleavage.

            Held by his arms, Kyle dangled nakedly, flushed pink and wet with breast sweat, in front of Roberta’s face.

            “Dear, you’re very good to remember Mommy’s prior directions, but here’s the situation. Smart parents, like me, will tell their children those kinds of things, just to make sure they stay safe and choosy until they’re of age to engage in adult activities. But now, you, at the ripe age of eighteen? With that… tight little body of yours? Well… you’re a candidate now, aren’t you, hon?”

            “I… don’t know about that.”

            “I’ve taught you a great many things, Kyle. Things you’ll use for the rest of your life. Some of them… fairly recently. Is it really so great a stretch to think that I should be there by your side for all of life’s greatest lessons?”

            “M-Mom… can you… put me down?” Kyle was simultaneously burning up with anxiety and chilled to the core by the shifting direction of his mother’s speech, not to mention the wobbly quality of her diction. That wine had taken a definite toll on her, in obvious excess of her drinking at their first dinner date. Whereas that evening’s disgusting climax had resulted from a merely buzzed Roberta, tonight, she was a different woman.

            She was stinking drunk. There was no way around it. Hung out now before her curiously darting eyes and rosy cheeks, Kyle could see she was more far gone than he’d suspected just from her boob sweat. This was a woman in the throes of a sickeningly good time, and when Kyle really paid greater focus to her dilated pupils, though he didn’t wish it, there was no denying the lust he saw broiling behind her gaze.

            “Put you down?” she repeated back with some obvious disappointment. She feigned a comically low frown, complete with downturned lips, but her hands did in fact lower toward the knee-high coffee table.

            Kyle was planted, staggering, beside the towering wine glass and dog-eared romance. She couldn’t actually be serious, right? This was a woman who’d spent his adolescence prattling on about the importance of waiting until marriage to make love. This had to be one of her usual games to get inside his head by kicking down the usual walls and taboos which separated them from the animals. Nevertheless, almost instantly he began assessing the distance to the floor and the viability of making an emergency exit down the side of the table, should one become necessary. However, his mother didn’t give him long to divert his attention elsewhere before the sheer gravitational pull of her hulking feminine form yanked his gaze right back.

            “All right, I did what you wanted. I put you down. Maybe you ought to hear what I want now.”

            “N-No…”

            “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve had a little relief, dear,” Roberta declared, steamrolling right over his whispered denial. “I know you might not want to hear that about your own mother, but just for tonight, and maybe the rest of this entire sentence of yours in that size, you’ve got to stop… thinking of me that way. Think of me as a teacher. Or maybe your boss. Either way, I’ve got things to impart to you, and you’ve got… some thanks to give me, don’t you? Besides, honey. You’re the perfect size.”

 

Chapter End Notes:

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