Mommie and Her Lance

(With a nod to Tacocarnitas for the inspiration. A number of my readers have requested an "incest story'. Here it is.)

"Big Tits, Big Dicks and Fantasy Fucking"

( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o ) ( o )

"This is all your fault, Mrs. Halbert."

"What?" spluttered the woman.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," continued the School Psychologist, over riding the confused reaction of the mother on the other side of the desk. She again noted how unattractively the woman presented herself. Hair a dull brown, pulled into a very UNflattering bun, no makeup, lips pursed in a disapproving manner, Mrs. Halbert always seemed to view the world with disgust and censure.

"You have raised your son in such an over protective manner that he is now acting out in a completely unacceptable manner!" Being a School Psychologist didn't pay very much and the rewards were few. But taking down this sanctimonious, prissy bitch was fun.

The spluttering noise came to a halt and the Counselor continued; "Lance is eighteen. He has few if any friends. He has never dated. He does not participate in any after hours school activities. And now this! These reports are VERY disturbing!" She looked down at the papers on her desk. "His interactions with girls in school have become unacceptable. He has been reported many times since school started his senior year for attempting to grope or fondle them. He seemed to focus his attention on the more, um, 'developed' young ladies. His seeming obsession with breasts is unexpected. He had never displayed any such behavior prior to this year."

Mrs. Halbert frowned but did not interrupt. She drew her coat more carefully around her while the therapist continued. "It is my feeling that your son is suffering from what you might call 'late on-set adolescence'. Adolescence usually occurs much earlier. But because of your coddling, your over protective attitude, Lance's was delayed. That is, it has only been in the last several months that he has begun the process of finding himself attracted to girls. And in the case of your son, he has fixated on the most obvious of secondary sexual characteristics, the budding bosoms of his classmates!

"We believe that this, in part, is due to Lance never having been exposed, that is, he has not had the chance to become familiar with the differences to be expected between males and females. You have maintained a home where these issues have not been explored. Lance has not been exposed to, or experienced, these opportunities.

"You have protected him so well that he has no idea how to react to his feelings as he becomes mature! This has led to his current troubles!" Her voice was very firm as she lectured Mrs. Halbert.

"As I can see now for myself, you dress in an overwhelmingly modest way. You seem to extend every effort to play down your femininity. Your mode of dress, your mannerisms all are apparently designed to negate your being a woman. This, undoubtably, contributed to Lance's fixation. You have never allowed Lance to discover what a woman looks like. This has, in no small part, brought Lance to his present situation.

Mrs. Halbert took the opportunity to speak up. "You're right. I do dress more modestly than most women. But I have always been embarrassed by my appearance."

The counselor took a moment to compare herself with her visitor. Unlike the drab, dull looking woman on the other side of the desk the counselor was nattily dressed and well coiffed. And while she didn't feel it appropriate to show off on the job, she was proud of her Triple D cup, 42-25-36 figure. Her reverie was cut short as Mrs. Halbert continued.

"When I was growing up I was the butt of some awful teasing and bullying from the other girls. But I had no idea I was affecting Lance! I'm so ashamed of myself. I'll try anything to help Lance!

"What is it that you would recommend? My little boy is everything to me! His Father died in an accident before Lance was born and I have tried to raise him in a decent, respectable home! I don't want to think that he is misbehaving in school because of me! What can I do to help him?" Her voice was filled with concern.

"Well, Mrs. Halbert, that is what we have come to now. Our suggested course of, well, lets call it a treatment, shall we?

"We think that Lance needs to be acclimated to the presence of women in his life. To this point his curiosity has not been addressed. We, that is you, need to introduce this into his life in a caring and loving way! That will be a big first step in the process of allowing Lance to adjust and come to terms with his own sexuality!"

"I'm not sure I understand. What should I do?"

"First of all it would help if you were to be more open about your own appearance. Constantly hiding yourself from Lance and others has given him the message that the female body is a taboo subject. And of course, any thing that is perceived as off limits is extremely attractive to a young man such as Lance. If you could make an effort to be more, well, open and available in this area it would help Lance, a lot!"

"Ah, um, all right. I can try to do that. I do so want to help my little boy! But I'm still not sure what exactly I should try to do."

"I think you can stop thinking of Lance as your 'little boy' for a start. He's a fully grown man. The fact that he stands less than five and a half feet tall should not confuse you, believe me!

"Specifically, I would suggest that you give up the muumuus and kaftans! Wear something that will allow Lance to become used to the sight of a female body on a regular basis. You could be more attractive, or would be, that is, if you were to allow yourself to be so. For Lance's sake, take it upon your self to display your femininity on a regular basis! Be proud of being a woman! Take pride in your femininity! Display this pride to Lance!" Privately the Psychologist wondered if there was any real femininity to be displayed. But the Mother was at least responding positively!

"Go out and get yourself some clothes that flatter you. Wear things that display, highlight, even, your femininity!" If there was any there to display, she thought again.

"I will, Doctor, I will. I'll do anything for my little, that is, for Lance. He's my whole life!"

+++++++++++++++

Later she arrived at home after a trip to the mall and found Lance in his ubiquitous sweat pants and t-shirt, fiddling with his PS2 in the den.

"Can you help me unload the car, honey? And then we need to talk."

"Sure, Mommie, what'd ya get?"

"Just some clothes, let's get them inside and I'll tell you all about it."

....

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say, Lance, is that the therapist feels that at least part of your problem is that you have never been acclimated to the sight of grown women. And she feels that I can help you to be better adjusted if I stop wearing these frumpy things that I have always worn." It was twenty minutes after they had emptied the car and she was explaining what the she had discussed with the therapist.

"I have to admit that I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to work or what you and I should do. But I really want you to be happy and well adjusted. So I'm going to do everything the therapist suggested. And the first thing I'm going to do is start wearing different clothes, and doing my makeup and changing my hair. It's been a long time but I'm going to try to look more attractive for my little man! I want you to be happy, honey!

"Now you go play and I'll get changed. See you for dinner in an hour? Okay?"

"Sure, Mommie. I suppose if it's going to help we should do what the Doctor ordered!" He laughed a little at his own joke and left her sitting in the living room.

Standing in front of her mirror several minutes later Mrs. Halbert tried to decide what to wear as she began this new chapter of her life. She knew what she looked like. She tried not to be ashamed as she looked at the image in the mirror. She had always been embarrassed by her figure. Too much here, not enough there. Her body was unattractive, she knew.

Still the School Psychologist had been clear. She was supposed to let Lance get an idea of what his Mommie looked like.

Sighing in resignation she reached for some of the new clothing and began to dress before heading down to cook dinner.

An hour later...

"Hey, Mommie, what's for GUH!" Lance stopped in his tracks as he entered the eat-in kitchen.

Was this his Mommie? Her hair wasn't in a bun at the back of her head. It was down around her shoulders. Three inch heels made her even taller than ever! He alway had to look up into her eyes and now he had to look even higher.

But the real difference was that his Mommie was wearing a dress. She hadn't worn a dress in years. Lance couldn't remember the last time he had seen his Mommie in a dress! He couldn't remember IF he had ever seen his Mommie in a dress. His Mommie always was shrouded in layers. And there weren't many layers here!

True, she was wearing a thin cardigan sweater against the chill of the afternoon, but it wasn't buttoned. And as she turned to smile at Lance he beheld a sight that almost stopped his heart. His Mommie's dress pushed out far beyond the sweater! In fact the sweater emphasized rather than hid just how large her breasts were!

Lance been aware in a general way that his Mommie had large breasts. But he had never seen them. He had had no idea that they could be this big! So round! So enormous! So much bigger than big! He could feel his eyes bugging out of his head as he beheld his Mommie and her new look.

The dress didn't make a big deal of them. But the dress did nothing to down play their enormity. The largest pair of breasts he had ever seen, ever imagined, his MOMMIE'S breasts, overwhelmed her torso! Even from the back he could see her bosom as it reached beyond the sides of her body. The outer edges of her bosom swung beyond the outside of her upper arms!

Lance could see the line of decorative buttons that marched upward from her waist to the demure neckline took a long march outward to follow the massive thrust of her bosom.

"Wh, wh, wow! Mommie! You luh, luh, look ..." He stood stock still, his mouth open while he gulped in air. He seemed struck dumb. He couldn't finish his sentence! After staring, open mouthed, for an eternity, he spun in the doorway and rushed back upstairs.

As she listened to her son leap up the staircase Mommie replayed what she had seen in those seconds before he had turned to go. She had seen a giant tube grow in his sweat pants! It had slithered down, down and down until almost reaching his knee! Pushing the light weight cotton out of the way, Lance's rapidly expanding penis had grown so fast and so large that she hadn't believed what she was seeing. But recalling what she had seen she was sure that she had never seen, had never heard of, anyone with such a large penis. She may have tried to live a pure, innocent life but of this she was sure! Her son, her little boy, his penis was extraordinarily large. In the vernacular; he was hung!

She replayed the scene in her mind. Bulge growing, extending down, down, down! His gaze locked upon her chest. The bulge expanding, a damp spot appearing just as he spun and raced out of the room. Her heart raced as she went over and over what she had seen!

Her darling Lance had grown an enormous, rock hard penis because of her! Seeing her, even in this unrevealing outfit, he had sprung an epic hard-on in seconds! Rock hard and so long! She'd never imagined!

She stood in the kitchen, thunderstruck, before climbing the stairs. She had to talk about this with her boy.

But when she reached his closed bedroom door she stopped. From inside she could hear her darling boy panting and moaning.

"Ung, ugh, oh, Mommie! So big! So fucking big! Ohhhh, Mommie! Uh, uh, uh!" His panting voice was quivering. She could imagine what he was doing. After several minutes she moved away silently. She would talk to him later. This was too embarrassing!

Somehow in the next week she never found the chance to speak with Lance about his unsettling reaction. As suggested by the therapist Mommie continually wore clothes that were not all-enveloping. Her body, her top heavy body, was visible as a result. Not showcased, but not hidden either. And Lance was responding in the same way he had on that first day. Every day.

Day after day she wore clothes that were completely different from what she was accustomed to; skirts and blouses, sweaters that were stretched over her amazing figure. Tight jeans, shorts and knee high dresses. No longer hiding her figure. She was letting Lance see how she looked in normal clothes.

All her life she had made it a point to not let people see how amazingly well developed her breasts had become. Mommie had always been ashamed knowing that she was almost unique. Practically a freak! She owned a mirror, she saw what she looked like when she took a shower or was dressing. She tried not to think about it.

And while she wasn't sure that the advice she got from the therapist would work, she didn't know what else to do. So she kept up with the plan. All week she had kept on wearing clothes that did not attempt to disguise herself.

Lance would come home from school, exchange a few words with his Mommie while staring at her in what ever outfit she had on while his dick swelled and pulsed in his pants and then he would spend the rest of the afternoon in his bedroom with the door closed. After dinner he would again retreat behind his closed door. They didn't watch TV together as had been their habit. She saw very little of her darling son.

She had known that her development was extraordinary. That her slim legs and hips, her toned mid section, were completely over shadowed by the massive breasts that she bore so easily as they projected outward from her rib cage. She had never thought of herself as attractive. None of the models in ads or starlets in movies or on TV looked anything like she did.

She had come to feel that her body was unattractive, almost disgusting. And because of her shame and embarrassment and the bullying she had gotten when younger, she had tried to hide how she looked. No one had known what Mommie looked like under the layers she had habitually worn.

But now Lance certainly had an idea of what his Mommie looked like. His reaction brought mixed feelings to Mommie. It was unsettling. It was embarrassing! Every time he looked at her he sprang an erection! A giant hard-on that reached toward his knees! In a very fundamental way Lance was telling her that he thought she was attractive. No, not attractive. He thought that his Mommie was sexy!

Her son, her darling Lance, had a gigantic, pulsing, throbbing hard-on because of her! Because of how she looked. Because she had outrageously large mammaries. She knew she should be horrified. And she was. But horror was not her only reaction to Lance's response. She knew she should not allow herself to think about those other feelings.

But she didn't seem to be able to stop thinking about her son. Her son with his oversized endowment. Her son with the hard, pulsing prick that sprang to life every time he saw her. The dick that pulled the leg of his pants taut as it expanded farther than she had ever imagined any cock could possibly reach!

She knew that she had to stop thinking about his reaction to her. She was trying to help him acclimate to the sight of a woman's body. She was not doing this except to help her son. Her Lance.

And yet she found herself standing outside his door listening as he moaned and groaned. His bed squeaking and rattling, she heard him saying "Mommie" time and again, along with phrases such as "So big! So large!" "Uh, uh, Oh Mommie, so beautiful, so massive, so hot!"

She could no longer deny it to herself. Her precious son, her darling boy, was wanking off furiously while thinking about his Mommie! And he was doing it time and time again, all afternoon and all night! Wanking and wanking while thinking about her massive, cartoonishly large breasts! Sometimes it would wake her up in the middle of the night. Lying in bed she could hear him continue to abuse himself!

Her reaction confused her. She should be outraged, not excited. She should be chastising Lance for his reaction to her massive bosom, not thinking about trying to get an even larger, harder reaction! This was terrible, wasn't it? Certainly she should not be standing outside his door night after night listening to him abuse himself while moaning and groaning about her, his Mommie, and her massive breasts!

Still, every morning, as she dressed, she tried to guess how long it would take for him to react to her choice. How long would it take and how long would it become? Would a sweater get a reaction? Or should she wear a tight blouse which gaped open between each button? Or should she wear something lower cut?

Over the next few days her outfits became more and more daring. Tighter. Lower cut. Her skirts became thigh high. Buttons on her blouses and sweater would be left open. Her cleavage would peek out from her tops. Inches of creamy, bulging breast meat could be glimpsed as she paraded around in front of her gawking son.

Mommie began to wear high heels every day. These served to emphasize both her firm behind as well as helping to project her breasts even further outward. And as a result of her teasing manner of dress Lance spent almost every waking moment in his room thinking about his Mommie and whacking off!

By the end of the second week she had decided she had to confront Lance about his activities. She seldom saw him for more than a few minutes at a time. She continued to dress provocatively as the therapist had suggested. And her son was still spending almost all of his time in his room, jacking off, while groaning and moaning about his Mommie and her immense breasts.

And so, Friday, after supper, as he was about to dash back upstairs, she asked him to come with her into the den.

Sitting on the divan they faced each other. He in his t-shirt and sweat pants, she in a tight pair of slacks and an even tighter sweater.

"Lance," she began, "I'm terribly worried about you. About us! You know that you are the most important thing in my life! I've been trying to do what the Counselor suggested. I've been dressing a little different, not wearing so many layers. Trying to acclimate you to what I, that is, what women look like. And I know you have been noticing. But your behavior recently has been most unsettling to me."

"But, Mommie..." he interrupted. "I've done so much better at school."

"I know, Lance, and I'm very happy about that. Still, you spend so much time in your room. And I know what you are doing! I can hear you. Every night. It's, well, it's embarrassing!"

Shamefaced, he looked away. "I'm sorry, Mommie, I can't help it. You are so pretty and so, um, nice, I mean, that is..." he trailed away.

"Lance I think I know what is causing you to do what you are doing. The therapist explained every thing to me. I know that because I used to hide myself that you have developed an unnatural, an unhealthy, fixation on my, um," her courage deserted her," my body." she finished.

She looked down at herself. Wearing a sweater and a pair of slacks that hugged her butt she was no longer trying to hide her amazing development. The size of her bosom was causing stress lines and stretching her sweater in amazing ways. Several inches of cleavage were on display, mounding up because the bra she wore was a size or two too small. She thought that the result was exciting. And so did Lance judging by the way he couldn't stop staring at her chest.

"And I've changed the way I am dressing to try to help you become acclimated to what a woman, that is, what I look like!" She placed her hands on the underside of her breasts for emphasis. She lifted both hands, raising her breasts in front of her son, lifting them a few more inches above her thighs.