“Of course we’re going another round,” she murmured cheekily, flashing him another of her famous winks. “What, you thought a little ride on the furniture was the whole she-bang? I suppose you really do have a lot to learn about making love, honey. Which is all right. Lesson number one: sex isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. Especially if you’re doing it right.”

            “I… I c-can’t do it… again…” Kyle declared hollowly, his voice nearly lost to his gummed throat.

            “And why ever not, hon?”

            “Please. You’ll… you’ll k-kill me if… if you d-do it… again.”

            Roberta threw her head back and laughed a hearty belly laugh. Her breasts heaved joyously as she savored her son’s melodrama and the feather-weight of his potent hog-tied form in her hand.

            “Oh, sweetie. I love when you can give Mommy a laugh. You’ve always been one for exaggeration, haven’t you? Since you were a little boy. Always making up stories, twisting the truth to suit you. It used to get on my nerves, I admit, but today… well, today is a day full of new things, isn’t it?”

            “Mom, for God’s… for fuck’s sake, this is… I’m-”

            “-you’re the best lay I’ve ever had, honey, bar none,” Roberta interrupted, her chest puffed with pride. By the ingratiation of her tone, she obviously meant it as a compliment of the highest order. “And I’m sorry if you’re a little behind the eight-ball with the lesson this evening, Kyle, but ready or not… I’ve got to have another go.”

            “You’re not LISTENING to me!”

            “Nonsense, dear. I’m listening, and what I’m hearing is a little boy still scared to become a little man. So again, I’ll be taking the lead, until we can get you into the spirit of things. Because I love doggie style. I love how it makes my big juicy ass look even bigger. In fact, I love it so much, that I’m confident we’re about to discover this family has a genetic predisposition toward the practice. You’ll see.”

            Kyle rolled over on the plank of his mother’s fingers. His mind finally catching up to his body, the boy retched and vomited over the side. Roberta blinked, her attention entirely elsewhere.

            “Well, what’s this?” Roberta scowled, obviously more than a little hurt. She nudged her son onto his back again with a pinky and scooped her clammy fingertip beneath his wilted shaft. He wasn’t even beginning to harden. “This won’t do at all, will it?”

            “D-Don’t…”

            “Hey, sweetie, what kind of a hypocrite would I be, after all I’ve taught you about being a giving partner in bed, if I didn’t practice what I preach and give you a little of your own medicine right back to you? You gave me a damn good lay just now, after all. It’s only fair we both reach the finish line this time.”

            With her free hand, Roberta fished between her sweat-glossed thighs. Her fingers hooked back into the soft opening of her pussy, still rife with congealing cum. She brought her thick digits away with a healthy helping of ejaculate frosted all the way down to her knuckle. Then, appropriately lubed up, she gently snatched her son’s limp member between her greased thumb and forefinger, commencing the returning of the favor she promised.

            Despite whatever had overcome him and refunded his dinner, Kyle’s lower instincts fought through the sickness. His mother’s fingers were too soothing and too exact in their disgusting knowledge of precisely how to touch him. She could manipulate him like clockwork. After a minute of focused work, Roberta’s cum-dripping fingers successfully stroked the boy’s puny dick to life. He wasn’t fully erect yet, but at least rising to attention, and that was all Roberta needed for the go-ahead.

            The middle-aged, fat-bottomed goddess threw herself upon the bed, her boy closed in her fist, and hunched onto all fours. Dense, pale cheeks spread apart, she carried Kyle beneath the overshadowing mass of her gargantuan body and turned him upside down. With the blood rushing to his head, the terrified teen/human dildo watched his legs plunged into the still-gaping maw of his mother’s ever-eager pussy.

            In and out. Wielding the little naked adolescent free-handed, Roberta thrust his body within then back to the outside air with greater ferocity. The number of possibilities compared to the bench ride were multiplied exponentially. Any angle was fair game now, with Kyle’s loose legs firmly grasped in Roberta’s sweating fist. After some practice, the woman could insert her son all the way up to his neck: on these slippery occasions, she took the liberty to twist him like a corkscrew in her trap.

            The effect was nothing short of thunderous. A hideous moan was extracted from Roberta’s throat which vibrated the bed. Skin cells of her voluminous pussy never truly attended before were roughed by Kyle’s thrashing legs, not to mention his flopping half-mast hard-on. Her rocky thigh muscles tightened with the effort to keep her perspiring back straight, though her legs and arm still keeping up her pear-torso all trembled with mounting arousal and tickling exhaustion.

            Of course, there was more to concern herself with this time than merely her own blood-pumping, pussy-blooming lust. Though she was doing well in that department as well. But the mission was, at last, to give Kyle the show of his life and prove just how well-suited he was to his role as little man of the house. And that meant, whether he knew he wanted it yet or not, she was going to milk her little boy for all he was worth.

            With uncommon attentiveness, Roberta found her focus within the swirl of stupefying carnality. She arched her back. When next the mother withdrew the boy’s body from her drooling hole, she expressly poised Kyle’s seizing hips up against the delicate roof of her vagina. She squealed again at the tender touch of his erection massaging along the puffed skin above her pussy, even after adjustment feeling the pinhead tip of his cock stroking around the button of her clit.

            Lightning flowed through her bloodstream. Having found the perfect angle, Roberta concentrated her assault, marrying Kyle’s helpless erection with her vaginal roof while loping strands of cum washed down his inverted body. Her pubes tickled and scratched along his face; they parted for the combing of his body. His legs jutted in and out of her crotch, coiling and spinning like a pinwheel. The sensation was turning her inside out.

            Just when Roberta was beginning to feel her son approach climax, out of necessity she released her hold on several tensed muscles. Including her shimmying ass. A vocal fart eased from the sweat-painted hillocks of her heavy cheeks. The sound cut above Roberta’s aphrodisiac huffing and Kyle’s panting for life.

            “Oh, my God,” she groaned, a little mortified at the speed bump in the mood. “I’m so sorry, honey. Please excuse Mommy.”

            Determined not to spoil the moment completely, Roberta returned to her work with a greater fervor. A few seconds later, though the scent of the giant woman’s flatulence had now penetrated the warm vanilla candle mist, Kyle’s body distorted in his mother’s clammy fist as he ruefully climaxed against the roof of her pussy. Despite the rank air and his tired genitals, the boy was still battling for breath, as drop after drop of slimy, vinegary juices poured into his throat from down the ramp of his upside-down body.

            Confident that Kyle had received his just desserts, Roberta resumed her previously scheduled full-body insertion of her son. Her fingers cloyed around his shoulder blades as she jammed him in and out, nearly losing him several times to the greedy pull of her pussy, despite her doggie-style pose and lubed runway inviting him to freedom. The pace quickened. She was well-past the point of no return now. The pleasure was reaching its previous zenith again, and Roberta hadn’t even completed the job.

            Kyle was fighting back less with every repeated entry into his mother’s cunt. If she had to guess, Roberta assumed the boy was running very low on oxygen and muscular control. Certainly her increasingly clamped vaginal tunnel was growing merciless in its grasp. Her womanhood, too, knew the end was in sight. Faster and faster she pumped, with greater strength and fury than she ever had with the vegetables or pink glass monster. When it was humanly impossible to hold on any longer, the woman’s thumb gave Kyle a hard shove, until his body had completely disappeared into the happily parted lips of her pussy.

            Roberta’s second orgasm of the night was nothing short of a natural disaster. A veritable geyser of ejaculate fired from the big-boned squirter’s hanging pussy lips. It would’ve surely drowned Kyle, as the gushing fallout rushed into his nose and mouth, if Roberta hadn’t reacted quickly enough to slide him back out from her opening. It still took her a moment to remember he needed removing, though, as she savored the sharp afterglow in relished peace. Even when she did take hold of his shoulders and drag Kyle’s ragdolled body out, she could feel her pussy tightening back around him. Begging her to leave him inside.

            Some part of Roberta very nearly listened to that desire.

            “Wake up, sleepyhead,” the woman sang with a newfound joy she hadn’t known so thoroughly in years, if ever. She lovingly caressed Kyle’s body along the bedsheets, drying him of his disgusting labors. Planting a finger to his chest, she again confirmed a heartbeat, then laced that finger around his shriveled manhood for a tug, just because she could.

            “W-Wh… Where…” Kyle wriggled in the manner of a newborn infant in his mother’s outstretched hand. He appeared to have been fucked so silly that he’d lost his grasp on his location and, judging by the look in his eyes, possibly most of his mind as well.

            “I really don’t know what to say, Kyle. Honestly. I’m… speechless, baby, I’m speechless. I can never thank you enough for what we just did. You’ve made me so… so happy, in ways I could never truly express to you except to try my hardest to give you back everything you just gave me. And with your whole future like this stretched out before us, well… I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to uncover every last way for me to say thank you.”

            “F-F…” he muttered, too weary and gargled with her cum to speak at first, as though his digestive tract was full to the brim with honey. “F-Future?”

            “Well, yes of course, silly,” Roberta teased. She rolled over on her back, reclining against the headboard, and settled into the nest of pillows beneath her enormous nude body. “You did it. You’re the man of the house now. Specifically, my man of this house. What kind of sense would it make to let you leave now?”

            “But… but it’s just… just for the three-month s-sentence… you can’t just… just…”

            “Oh, honey, you have so little faith in me, after all this time, don’t you? Do I really look to you like a mother who’d surrender her precious favorite toy to the big, mean world over something so small as a public defacement criminal charge? At the end of the day, I’m your mother, your warden, your teacher, and your keeper. You lost your privileges of belief from the rest of the world, which means I’m the best you’ve got. And trust me…” Roberta drawled triumphantly, her fingers rippling coyly at the boy’s exposed crotch. “…I plan to give you the best I’ve got for a very, very long time.”

            With no existing response available to him, Kyle closed into himself while Roberta closed him into her fist. She made a lap around the room, blowing out the vanilla candles, and reducing the room to the blackness of sifting smoke and stale, sticky air. Rifling with the pillows again as she lay down for the night, Roberta parted the valley of her sagging, sweat-drenched breasts. Easier than ever, Kyle slid into his place, then disappeared, save for his head, in the embrace of his mother’s moist tits.

            Not long after her head rolled over on the pillow, Roberta was snoring gratefully into another night full of wet dreams, while the prisoner entrapped over her heart was smothered by the oppressive weight of his mother’s flesh and the knowledge that he had a probable lifetime of soul-breaking sexual nightmares to look forward to.