"Anything you want", said the note. Anything... Well, if there's one thing I'd wanted for a long time, it was mom's tits. They had grown on the wrong kind of woman: why was a woman as shy and prude as she was gifted with tits so large she could wear only custom-made bras? That was a crime against nature. Her bathing suits covered her body all the way to her neck. She owned not a single piece of clothing that revealed more than the faintest hint of tit flesh, even when she bent over. She did no sport without wearing three or four sports bra (under a turtleneck) to keep her stuff in place.
All of my life, they'd been there, those two huge boobs, stretching her clothes, bumping into things when she didn't pay attention; they'd been taunting me but I couldn't touch them because they belonged to my mother, and I couldn't even fap to them because dammit, I hadn't even seen them!
And now there they were. Half-naked, spilling out of her bra, and free to use as I saw fit. And I wanted those tits. I wanted to... to slap them, to squeeze them, to spank them so hard for having made me wait so long to lay hands on them.
"What was that, honey?"
I snapped out of my thoughts. Had I spoken? Yeah, looks like it... I swallowed and managed to repeat: "I... I want to slap your tits."
"You want to slap my tits?"
"Y... yes, I want to slap your tits. I... I want to give them a good slapping. Hard. A good hard slapping."
There was a pause that seemed to last ages. As luck would have it, it would all have been a setup, and my mom would kick me back to bed, and the family would all laugh at that story, and...
"Oh, ok. Go ahead."
And with those simple words, mom unleashed her mammoth mammaries. They bounced up and down, jiggled, then were still. She looked at me and waited. I raised my hand, slowly, unable to draw my eyes away from those two huge flesh pillows I had wanted all my life. My hand was open, my arm was aching to execute the motion, my pajamas were stretched by the most imperious erection I had ever had... and I found I couldn't move. They were there, ready to be taught the lesson I had wanted to teach them for so long, but they... They were mom's tits. You can't slap your mother's own tits! That was the wrongest thing I had ever contemplated doing. But it was...
"What's the hold up, honey? Slap my tits! That's what you want!" |