'Maybe just a little…' I stared at her sleeping face for a long moment. Her eyes remained peacefully closed, her expression soft and unguarded under the warm bedroom light.
Even so, I needed to be certain she wouldn't wake up. I placed my hand gently on her shoulder and gave it a light, careful shake.
"Mom…?" My voice came out low and cautious as I tried again, giving her shoulder another small push. She didn't stir at all. Her breathing stayed deep and even.
Growing bolder, I reached out with one finger and lightly poked her soft cheek. The smooth skin yielded under the gentle pressure, but still no reaction came. She was completely out, sunk deep into sleep.
A slow, wicked grin spread across my face as dark, sinful thoughts began to crawl into my mind, thoughts a son should never have about his own mother.
My eyes kept shifting between her closed eyes and the heavy mountains rising and falling on her chest. After a moment of hesitation I stretched my hand toward the top button of her nightgown, that was clearly fighting for its life under the constant strain of her massive breasts stretching the fabric tight.
It proved difficult to work with only one hand. The tension on the button was stronger than I expected. I brought my other hand up to help, carefully pinching the fabric on both sides. This time the button slipped free without much resistance.
The moment it opened, her full breasts shifted and jiggled slightly, rising as if they had been given a little more room to breathe. For a second the sight made it feel like I had just released two heavy, forbidden orbs but the cold reminder hit me right after. These were my mother's breasts.
Swallowing hard, I moved down to the remaining buttons and began undoing them one by one. Each soft click of the fabric releasing only increased the pressure building in my chest. By the time the last button came free, the front of her nightgown had fallen completely open, leaving her full, heavy breasts covered by nothing but the black lace bra that still struggled to contain them.
The black lace of her bra stood out in sharp contrast against the milky white of my mother's skin. Her flesh looked flawless, smooth, soft, and almost luminous under the warm bedroom light. The bra pushed her heavy breasts tightly together, creating a deep, shadowed cleavage that looked dangerously inviting.
'…They're so big,' I thought, unable to tear my eyes away from the heavenly shape of her chest. They rose like full mountain peaks, heavy and perfectly formed, an unbelievably alluring sight that made my throat feel dry.
'Her bra is...' I found myself wondering if she was even wearing the right size. The bra seemed almost too small for her. Soft, pale flesh spilled over the top cups and pressed out from beneath the underband, the tight lace digging slightly into her skin as it struggled to contain everything. The way her breasts overflowed the fabric only made them look fuller and more tempting.
A strong, almost overwhelming urge rose in me to reach out and feel them with my own hands. I forced myself to look back up at her face instead. Her eyes were still closed, her expression peaceful and completely unaware of what I was doing. She remained deep in sleep, oblivious to the sinful thoughts running through her son's mind.
'Just a little touch…' I took a long, steadying breath and slowly lifted my hand. My index finger reached out and carefully poked the soft, overflowing flesh that spilled from the top of her bra. The moment I made contact, her breast yielded easily under the light pressure, the warm skin sinking in around my fingertip with a softness that felt almost unreal.
I stayed like that for a few seconds, just pressing gently, feeling the way the heavy flesh gave way and then slowly bounced back when I eased off. Emboldened by the lack of any reaction from her, I shifted my finger and began tracing a slow line along the curve of the exposed upper swell. The skin was smooth and warm, slightly damp from the heat of her body.
After a moment I pressed more of my hand against her. My palm settled over the full side of her breast, fingers spreading carefully across the lace and the soft flesh spilling over it. I gave a tentative, testing squeeze. The weight of it filled my hand immediately, dense, heavy, and incredibly soft. Even through the bra I could feel how plush and full she was.
I squeezed again, slower this time, letting my fingers sink deeper into the yielding mound. The breast reshaped under my grip, the soft fat pressing up between my fingers as I kneaded it carefully. Every gentle press sent a fresh wave of heat through my stomach.
I moved my hand in a slow, circular motion, groping the heavy globe with growing fascination while my eyes stayed locked on her sleeping face, half afraid she might wake up and half unable to stop.
Not getting enough from just feeling them through the fabric, a far more dangerous idea slowly took shape in my mind.
I hesitated for only a second before carefully slipping my fingers under the edge of her bra. Holding the lace lightly, I began to pull it upward with slow, deliberate movements, making sure not to tug too hard or wake her.
The soft material slid across her skin with almost no resistance. Bit by bit I eased the cups up and over the heavy curves of her breasts until the bra rested bunched above them, completely out of the way.
'Holy moth— they are incredible..." The moment they were freed, her massive creamy breasts spilled out and jiggled heavily, the soft flesh bouncing and settling like warm jelly.
They looked even larger now without the bra containing them, full and heavy against her chest. Her nipples stood stiff and erect on top of the pale mounds, surrounded by wide, pink areolas that contrasted against the smooth, milky skin.
To be continued...
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