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Mommy's Panty Party

Mrs. Henderson smiled. Her boys had discovered the surprise she'd left them.

She heard Thomas curse somewhere inside the house.

She didn't answer. They'd find her soon enough. She wanted to savour it—the excruciating moment of anticipation before it would all begin. She rolled over, adjusted her bikini, and waited, the sun gleaming off her oiled body where she lay next to the pool.

She heard a rumble of sneakers descend the stairs. The screen door rattled, and Thomas stepped onto the patio, incredulous. Timothy followed, lurking a reticent step behind his twin brother.

"What are these?" Thomas waved a ration of pink satin at her.

"They're underwear, dear."

"They're girl's underwear. What are they doing in my drawer?"

"They're not girl's underwear." They were indeed girl's underwear. "They're a product your doctor recommended."

She observed with some delight as Thomas registered her near nudity and his eyes performed a little dance about her bare curves, her large breasts. Her boys, she knew, were not accustomed to seeing their busty mother so exposed.

Thomas faltered. "But where are my boxers?"

"Dr. Kim was concerned about you. She suggested you wear these. Besides, your boxers were all ratty anyway, honey. It's time you had something new."

"You threw away my boxers? All of them?"

Timothy was silent, sullen. He stood drawing the thin satin through his fingers, stealing furtive glances at the sudden, sensuous spectacle his mother had made of herself, a smaller concern amidst the greater emergency of his new underpants. He hated confrontation, Mrs. Henderson knew. He'd be the easy one. It was Thomas that would require more work. But he'd get there. She had a few tricks in mind.

"You don't need them, dear. You've got these now."

"I am not wearing these."

"Right." Mrs. Henderson sat up and wedged her manicured toes into her sandals. "Inside. Both of you. Family meeting."

She streamed past her sons into the house. The boys followed, Thomas muttering inaudibly to himself.

And so the fun had really begun. Of course, Dr. Kim had made no such recommendation. There had been no conversation. The women's undergarments were a necessary cog in a much larger machine—a greater, devious ambition.

For as her sons had grown these past few years, stretching long and lean, their boisterous energy unsettling her formerly quiet house, Mrs. Henderson had become increasingly absorbed by a single persistent thought—her young boys had become handsome young men. Moreover, as they had continued to clamor through high school—trampling in and out of rooms, up and down stairs—she had developed an acute fascination with their changing genitalia. She most savored the sight of the generous weight of their developing manhood operating freely inside the loose, thin roomwear they favored as they bounded unselfconsciously about her house.

Mrs. Henderson began to fantasize about her two young sons while she masturbated, her head swimming with taboo desire. She dreamed of worshipping her sons' young cocks, of their satisfying weight in her hands. And she dreamed they would worship her, too. She imagined using her sexy body to slowly taunt and tease her twins into a state of sexual insanity. She wanted to watch her boys melt in her hands, writhing in incestuous pleasure as they baptized themselves in their own warm emissions.

Her sons, she suspected, did not share her secret appetites, preoccupied as they were with younger girls, sports, and all the other manifold diversions of early adulthood. They remained tragically unaware of the pleasure she believed she could offer them. And, for a long time, her fantasy had remained just that.

Until, recently, she had discovered a blog post that had filled her with a renewed sense of opportunity. The anonymous author, a professed middle-aged mother, candidly described the seduction of her own son. The report described the acquisition of her son's initially reluctant sexual interest and the systematic undoing of his reservations. Adhering to the principals to which Mrs. Henderson would now subscribe, the woman had converted her circumspect son into an obedient, appreciative young fuck puppy. At her computer that night, with her oblivious sons sequestered to their respective bedrooms, immersed in the sound sleep of growing teenagers, Mrs. Henderson had feverishly scribbled detailed notes from which to enact her scheme, her hands trembling with the excitement of it all.


In the living room, Mrs. Henderson pointed at the sofa, and the boys sat in unison.

"I had a call from Dr. Kim after your appointment last month. She's worried about your development. She says the boxer shorts that you boys have been wearing are terrible for your genitals."

Timothy shifted uncomfortably.

"Infertility is a real concern for young men, and Dr. Kim says that boxer shorts are a big part of the problem.They offer no support. Zero." Mrs Henderson held out her hand, and Timothy handed her his panties.

"Yes, they're technically women's underwear—"

"I knew it!" Thomas declared.

"But they're not too restrictive," Natalie held up the pink briefs and began to quote from the literature she'd found online. "They're designed to gently cradle your testicles—"

"Mom!" Timothy squirmed in embarrassment.

"They will gently cradle your testicles," Mrs Henderson repeated over her son's objection. "And the satin will stimulate your penis. To ensure everything is working down there. Dr. Kim wants to follow up next month, and until then she wants you to wear these. Only these—"

"I'm not wearing them," Thomas repeated.

Mrs. Henderson sighed. "You boys are eighteen now. You're adults. You'll be finished school in a few weeks. You're free to do whatever you like. You don't want to wear women's underwear? Fine. I can't make you."

The twins remained silent. They were astute enough to know there'd be more.

"But this is my house. And as long as you are living in my house, you will follow my rules. If you don't like the rules, you're free to leave. You can get jobs and pay for an apartment. You can go live with your father, for all I care. But as long as you're under this roof, what I say goes. Understood?"

Her sons were quiet, a smoldering air of indignation between them.

"Good. So if there are no more objections—" She dropped the panties into Timothy's lap. "Suit up."

Neither boy moved.

"Let's go! Quickly now."

The boys looked at one another.

"Here?" Thomas balked.

"Yes, here. I need to be sure they fit."

"You've gotta be kidding me," he laughed.

Timothy lurched to his feet, his height suddenly exaggerating his mother's diminutive form. He looked to his brother who only shrugged.

Timothy undid his jeans and paused. "Can you at least turn around, Mom?"

"Stop fooling around. Come on, Thomas. Get up."

Thomas didn't move.

When Timothy was nude, his mother knelt and stretched the dreaded article open at his feet, affording Timothy an elevated view of her large, shifting breasts. "In you go."

Timothy placed a hand on his mother's bare shoulder, her long hair brushing his prick, and stepped unsteadily into the panties.

He couldn't remember ever having seen his mother in any kind of swimsuit, let alone such a revealing bikini. She looked good for forty. Hell, he thought, she looked good for thirty.

He'd been surprised by her taut abdomen, the pert, gym-toned swell of her ass. But most of all, he was amazed at her inordinately large breasts. Her petite frame served to make them seem even larger than they were. He'd known she was busty. That had always been clear, impossible to hide beneath the thin sweaters and blouses she wore. But her obvious curvaceousness, so modestly hidden, had always been accompanied by an air of maternal propriety. He'd never imagined that, suddenly revealed, she'd look so alluring.

It had been one thing on the patio, admiring her sleek form in the context of the backyard, but another thing entirely now that she was kneeling before him, scarcely a foot from where he stood, smelling like coconuts.

The intimate proximity of his glamorous mother made Timothy more self-conscious of his own nudity. And, shamefully, he felt his prick begin to stir.

Mrs. Henderson slid the smooth satin up his legs and over his exposed genitals. They hugged him gently, enveloping him like a cool, soft hand.

"There. Not so bad, right?"

Thomas sat with his eyes averted. He would not look at his brother.

"How do they feel?" Mrs Henderson tugged at the scalloped waist, pulling the panties higher on Timothy's hips and accentuating the bulge beneath the thin cloth.

Timothy would not admit it, but they were surprisingly comfortable.

"Are they too tight?" Mrs. Henderson stepped close to her son and palmed him, hefting his covered package as though measuring the weight of him. She gazed up inquisitively into his embarrassed face. She gave him a light squeeze and felt the modest inflation there. "Aren't they just so soft?"

Timothy swallowed hard. His mother's touch through the satin sent waves of warm pleasure threw him.

"Looks like they fit perfectly." She winked coyly at her blushing son.

"Alright, Mister." She turned to Thomas. "Your turn."

Thomas didn't budge.

Mrs. Henderson sighed and looked at Timothy. "Go fill the bathtub, dear. I need to have a private word with your brother."

"The bathtub?"

"Yes, dear. We'll be up in a minute."


Timothy held his hand under the running faucet, the gushing water thunderous in the small bathroom.

Unbelievable. He shook his head to himself. He had been mortified to stand nude in front of his mother as he had, an erection threatening to blossom in her hand, but the moment had been undeniably thrilling. Despite himself, he had enjoyed his mother's warm attentions.
Thanks given by:
With the bathtub filling, he crept out to the stairs and listened. He could hear the low, insistent murmur of his mother's voice, but her words were swallowed by the noise from the bathroom.

When the bathtub was nearly full, Thomas came meekly up the stairs and into the bathroom. Timothy had no idea what magic his mother had enacted upon his brother, but he was flushed and undressed, apparently cowed. Mrs. Henderson followed, smirking. Timothy was flustered by the sudden intrusion of his family into the small space of the bathroom, the twins looming, nude, over their tiny, bikini-clad mother.

The boys squeezed into the bathtub, their wet skin squelching as they moved against one another in the small space, and Mrs. Henderson knelt on the bath mat before them.

"The doctor said the satin needs to be in direct contact with your skin. To stimulate you fully. So—" she brandished a large bottle. "Time for haircuts."

Mrs. Henderson dipped her hand into the rising bathwater and began to douse each boy in turn.

"Shaving is hard on your skin," she explained. "This is a special foam Dr. Kim has prescribed. It will gently remove all your hair but leave your skin smooth and healthy."

Timothy felt like a child, wedged into the bathtub next to his brother, his mother bathing him as she had when he was a child. As she moved about, he watched the soft bustle of her breasts, and he felt his cock begin to stir once more.

With the boys suitably moistened, Mrs. Henderson held the bottle and pumped a handful of thick foam into her palm. She reached first for Timothy. "Stand up, dear."

She began to apply the cream to the area around his groin. The coated fingers of one hand slid through the hair on his mons as those of the other began to massage his testicles, his protruding prick framed between her busy palms. Her face was mere inches from his quickening erection, her warm breath tickling his thighs, and he was moved by an illicit desire for his mother's touch. He quietly yearned for her dexterous fingers to come together around his galvanized cock.

"Look Thomas. I think Timothy likes the feel of mommy's messy hands."

Thomas glanced at Timothy, and his eyes bulged at the sight of his brother's erection in his mother's hands.

Mrs. Henderson was distressed by the agonizing immediacy of her son's cock. She was seized by a nearly irresistible urge to envelop the boy in the warm receptacle of her mouth. Not yet, she insisted. The boys would have to beg for it first.

"It's okay, dear," she murmured. "Don't be embarrassed. It's perfectly natural for a boy your age to become aroused when a beautiful woman handles your penis. Even if she is your sexy mommy." She turned and winked at Thomas.

Despite himself, as he watched his mother fondle his brother's testicles, Thomas too began to stiffen beneath the water.

"In fact, your arousal is an important part of the treatment," his mother was saying. "A responsive erection is a great indication of your sexual health."

Done, she settled back on her heels and reached again for the bottle.

"Thomas." Mrs. Henderson filled her hand with more foam.

Thomas stood reluctantly, and as she began to tenderly treat his genitals, he caught a glimpse of the sordid tableau in the mirror—the two boys standing before their kneeling mother who held each of her anointed sons in her slick hands— and his cock swelled quickly in her animated grasp.

"Look who's decided to join the party," Mrs. Henderson purred. She pursed her plump lips and blew gently on the underside of Thomas's erection.

"Doesn't that feel nice? You know I used to bathe you two like this every day. You were such sweet obedient boys."

His mother's reference to their shared history impressed Thomas with the deviancy of their current arrangement—a taboo twist on what had once been a conventional domestic ritual. And Thomas suddenly found himself aroused, not despite his mother but because of her.

"That ought to do it." She stood, reached for the shower head, and leveled it at her boys. Their erections danced delightfully under the pressure of the blast as the hair came away with the foam and cascading water, leaving them smooth and clean.

"Oh, isn't that lovely?" she exclaimed. "You look so beautiful. Why have you been hiding your pretty cocks beneath all that hair?" She stepped aside in order to give the twins a better view of themselves in the mirror. "Don't you boys look sweet?"

Timothy imagined he looked bigger. His cock protruded distinctly from his body, emphasized by the loss of hair. It wasn't a bad look, he decided.

She helped her boys out of the bathtub, and they stood dripping on the bath mat before her. The family formed an intimate triangle, the boys' bare shoulders touching, the distance from their mother's warm, exposed skin reduced further in the limited space.

Using a towel, she patted the boys dry, nestling them each in velvety warmth.

"There, doesn't that feel nice? So smooth and soft?"

She leaned back to admire her handiwork. "Oh, the ladies will adore this. A woman loves to feel her man's smooth skin against her pussy. Trust me."

With her sons dried, she reached for their discarded underwear and helped her boys back into their panties, giving each of her sons a loving pat on his backside.

Timothy gasped softly at the sensation of the material against his bare skin.

"There, doesn't that feel so much better?"

In fact, it did. Timothy couldn't deny it. With each minute movement, he could feel the shiny satin shift and slip against his smooth genitals sending waves of gentle pleasure through his body.

"And you look like such perfect little gentlemen."

She stood then and turned, wagging her enticing rump at her thoroughly aroused boys.

"Follow me."


Mrs. Henderson returned her sons to the living room sofa, retrieved a black paper shopping bag from the kitchen, and lowered herself into the armchair opposite them. The boys sat, a generous gap between them, with their hands in their laps, an ineffective attempt to conceal the hardons that distended their panties. Their mother delighted in their sudden embarrassment and indulged in a lingering examination of each boy's amusing anxiety.

"I realize you're feeling a little uncomfortable," she said. "I know this is all a bit unusual, but you must try to relax, boys. Don't be shy. Your doctor has asked me to keep you in as persistent a state of arousal as possible. And so I know it's maybe a little awkward, but I need to be able to see your erections." She gestured at the twins to move their hands. Timothy reluctantly revealed himself to his mother. His penis was gratifyingly stiff, the silhouette of his cock discernible through the thin covering of satin, and his mother began to salivate.

"To that end—" she endeavoured to continue. "You are to wear nothing but your new panties while at home. I have to regularly monitor your arousal. That means your genitals must be displayed and easily accessible to me at all times."

Thomas shifted uncomfortably. He was not accustomed to being so exposed. The shared bath had been strange. But the experience of sitting, visibly aroused, in the middle of the living room in a pair of women's underwear was outrageous. The combination of the unlikely scenario and his mother's seeming preoccupation with his dick served to lend the whole experience an air of unreality.

"Now, here's the fun part. Dr. Kim has prescribed a daily pattern of prolonged arousal and eventual orgasm. I've got some sexy activities planned for you, but your constant stimulation will accomplish nothing if you run off to your bedrooms and tug yourselves off the moment you get excited. Instead, you will have a regular ejaculatory schedule. You will be allowed to masturbate once a day. But I'll have to observe you. To monitor your progress—your state of arousal, the volume of your ejaculate, things like that."

Timothy groaned. "Jesus."

"I hope we can all manage to have some fun together. But no matter how excited you may feel, how urgently you may be tempted to satisfy yourselves, you are to keep your hands at your sides until I say so. Like polite young gentlemen. Understood?"

"Understood," the boys murmured in unison.

"Good." She reached for the TV remote and turned on the television. "I've prepared a couple of things, and I'd like to see how they affect your excitement." She tapped her phone a couple of times, and the screen sprang to life.

With some embarrassment, Timothy immediately recognized the video.

"Thomas, I believe this is one of your brother's favorites. I'll be curious to hear your thoughts."

It was a scene Timothy had found online and enjoyed so much he'd saved it to his computer, where his mother had presumably found it.

It was a kind of music video that had been edited together from other popular sex scenes. It was a fast-paced, frenetic survey of contemporary porn, a chorus of female ecstasy whose featured starlets all had one thing in common.

"Timothy likes busty women, don't you dear?"

The compilation seemed to emphasize the exaggerated busts of its subjects. There were short clips of oil-drizzled breasts, breasts that were aggressively massaged through the thin cover of a bikini top. Another woman's breasts bounced provocatively as she enthusiastically slammed herself against her prone companion. A Japanese woman who, taken on her back, forced her breasts together and allowed them to rock up and down in time with her partner's thrusts.

"Oh my, Timothy. This is very sexy, isn't it? Is this the kind of woman you fantasize about?"

Timothy couldn't answer. He was petrified by the excitement of their sordid arrangement—his half-nude mother admiring his erection as he watched pornography.

"I can see why you like her?" Mrs. Henderson said of the asian pornstar. "Most asian women are very petite. But she has lovely, big titties, doesn't she? Look at the way they move."

Timothy had difficulty keeping his eyes off his mother, her own enormous breasts.
Thanks given by:
"Do you like giant titties, dear?"

Timothy only blushed.

"Honey, I need you to vocalize your arousal. I need to know what excites you and what doesn't. Okay?"

Timothy began to tremble. He nodded.

"Don't be nervous. Tell me dear, do you like watching her huge breasts jiggle? Is that what turns you on?"

"Yes," he finally whispered.

"Louder, dear. Don't be shy. What do you like?"

"I like her big tits," he managed.

"Yes, I thought so. You imagine what, exactly? Cumming on her big, wobbling tits?"

Again, Timothy peeked at his busty mother.

He nodded. "I want to cum on her tits." He clapped his mouth shut. He couldn't believe what he was saying to his own mother.

"Of course you do, sweetie." She ran a finger under the thin covering of her bikini top, where the material met her skin. She's very beautiful. "I think that's a very natural response. And I think she'd look fantastic covered in your cum."

"What do you think, Thomas? Do you like big breasts as much as Timothy?"

Thomas didn't answer. He was gawking, open-mouthed, at his dirty talking mother.

"Thomas, dear. Do you like giant boobies?"

He cleared his throat as if awakening from a dream. "Yes, mom." His voice was thick with lust.

"I thought so," she said.

On screen, the asian woman squealed as her partner began to erupt. He withdrew and scrambled over her to cast thick streams of cum across her agitated breasts.

"Then I think you'll like this next one." She smiled mischievously at her boys and fidgeted with her phone once more. There was an audible intake of breath and both boys froze. As a new video popped up, the living room was suddenly filled with the sound of zealous fucking.

It took Thomas only an instant to recognize his mother's bedroom and the animated form that disordered her bed. His eyes shot to his mother. She met his gaze, smirking, an unsettling, sadistic gleam in her eye.

He returned his attention to the television, where a large black man was fucking their mother. He had his mother pinned to the mattress, pawing and grasping at her outthrust ass, as he pounded her from behind. His mother's body was contorted in ecstasy, her face pressed to the bedsheets, her hands frantically roaming the bed, searching for purchase.

Thomas shot his brother a panicked look he did not see, transfixed as he was by the sight of his mother.

Thomas swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Despite himself, a shiver of illicit excitement shot through him at the devious maneuver his mother had pulled.

"That's Wade," she offered, but gave no further explanation. "I told you I had a busy day."

The boys sat in stunned silence, their respiration deepening in the growing excitement, absorbed by the sight of their mother's undulating curves, her flesh yielding under the assault the man perpetrated upon her.

"What do you think?" Mrs. Henderson finally asked. "Didn't know mommy was so athletic, did you?"

Timothy couldn't believe how sexy his mother looked beneath such a large bull of a man. His inordinate mass made his mother appear even tinier by comparison. She threatened to disappear entirely under his muscular embrace.

On screen, his mother's wailing slipped down into such a gutteral register that Thomas couldn't be certain that it was in pleasure.

"He was so thick," she said, her voice a soft, seductive whisper. "I couldn't stop cumming."

Mrs. Henderson, pleased, watched her boys respond to the video she had made for them. They sat bewitched by the action on the screen, their faces flushed, erections laboring against the restraints of their panties.

"Mommy looks good, hunh?"

Timothy's mind was a swamp of sexual confusion, an unspeakable longing blooming inside of him as his sexy mother squirmed on screen.

Mrs. Henderson could see a gratifying dark spot of precum staining the satin of each boy's underpants.

"Why don't you masturbate?" she suggested.

The boys glanced at each other, shifting awkwardly in their seats. Mrs. Henderson savored the moment of excruciating indecision that passed between them.

"It's okay, boys. I'm satisfied that you're nearly ready for your orgasms." She knew that their reluctance had nothing to do with an adherence to her policy. She reveled in the devious dilemma she had presented her aroused children.

"Don't be shy. I may be your mother, but I'm a very sexy woman. Of course you want to touch yourselves as you watch Mommy get fucked. Who wouldn't?"

Timothy looked once more at his mother, her words evaporating his remaining resolve. His eyes flashed between his seated mother and the sordid scene that continued to unfold on screen. He wanted her, he decided. Badly. He wanted to plunge himself into her the way this stranger had. No matter the cost.

With an sheepish look at his brother, Timothy peeled the panties away from his throbbing cock. His erection sprang free, slick with his own leakage and pulsating lewdly, his body cruelly betraying his incestuous excitement. He tentatively began to stroke himself. Each tug was a jolt of pleasure after such prolonged arousal, and he immediately began to feel his orgasm approach.

Mrs. Henderson watched in triumph. As Timothy grasped his raging tool, a stream of precum oozed from his cock and began to creep down the length of his busy fist. His eyes were wild and his breathing came in ragged bursts.

"Not too fast, honey. You'll cum too quickly. Stroke it nice and slow for mommy."

Timothy relented, but his mother was not satisfied. "Slower, dear."

With a groan of frustration, he dropped his speed to an excruciatingly slow caress, and he felt his rapidly building climax subside, settle into a low simmer. He began to tremble with urgency, just a few well-timed strokes, he knew, and he could finish himself off.

Mrs. Henderson turned to her other son. "What's the matter, dear? Is the movie not quite to your taste?" She raised her eyebrows coyly.

Thomas looked at his brother who was engrossed in the complex business of self-pleasure.

"It's okay, dear. Go on. Show mommy how excited you are."

Tentatively, he obeyed. He pulled his panties away, revealing himself to his waiting mother.

"That's it, darling. Stroke your big-boy cock for mommy."

She marveled at the twisted pageant she had contrived—her twin boys, clad in pink panties, fondling themselves to a video of their mother as she observed them.

"You boys look so sexy like that, with your boners in your hands."

The commotion in the video drew her attention. "Oh!" She sat up in excitement. "This is the best part."

On screen, Mrs. Henderson's lover flipped her like ragdoll and grabbed her firmly below her ribs, his large hands nearly encircling her narrow waist. He resumed drilling the near-comatose woman, his animated thrusts sending her exposed breasts into a frenzy of motion. Timothy realized she looked much like the beautiful asian woman had.

"Oooh, isn't that hot? Look at my big titties go. That's right, stroke it for mommy, boys. Pump yourselves to mommy's big, bouncing titties."

Mrs. Henderson's eyes darted excitedly between the steamy scene on the television and the one on her sofa. The boys had begun to squirm in unison, involuntarily grinding themselves into their trembling fists.

As the commotion on screen intensified and reached a crescendo,Timothy could feel, despite his deliberate pace, his orgasm creeping upon him once more.

He began to groan, dangling on the very precipice of relief, when the television screen suddenly went dark.

The boys continued to indulge themselves, lost as they were in their desires.

"Okay, that's enough," she warned. "Hands at your sides." The boys both exhaled and ceased their fevered activity. They sat, their breaths coming in sullen little bursts, as though in a timeout.

"Are you nice and horny now, boys?" Mrs. Henderson stood from her chair. "Let's see." She knelt before her sons and peered at each boy's erection.

"Very nice," she confirmed. "You boys are just about ready."

She reached for Timothy and gently hefted his swollen testicles.

"Oh yes, Timothy. You're nice and full of cum. I think you're about ready for your orgasm."

She turned to Thomas and eyed him closely.

"Thomas, I think you may need a few more minutes, dear. Go sit in the chair, please."

Thomas did as asked, his exposed erection waving indecently as he crossed the living room.

"I'll do Timothy first. You can watch and continue to arouse yourself. By the time I'm finished with your brother, I think you'll be ready."

She stood and reached for her phone. "But first I should document your arousal."

She aimed the camera at Timothy. He sat with his legs spread wide, his raging erection jutting out from under his panties.

"Good," she murmured and took a picture. "Dr. Kim will be very pleased with this." She moved closer, but not so close as to exclude her son's adorably dazed face, and snapped a couple more pictures of her feminized child.

She set the phone to record video, placed it on the coffee table, and pointed it at Timothy. "Dr. Kim will want to see your emissions."

She stood and faced him. She reached behind her neck and began to play with the knot there.

"Would you like to look at mommy's breasts, dear."

She was pleased by the wide-eyed, eager nod Timothy gave.

She tugged at the string, loosening the knot, and peeled the triangles of her bikini top down, away from her huge breasts.

Timothy blinked, awed by the sight.

"Amazing, right?" She pushed her arms together and her breasts wobbled deliciously.

"I bet this morning, you'd never have thought you'd be ready to cum staring at your mommy's hot titties," she teased.

She turned and sat in Thomas's lap, her loose breasts just inches from his stunned face. "Timothy is going to cum soon, dear. Why don't we give him something to look at?"

She could feel his warm breath on her bare skin and her nipples tightened. "Go ahead, sweetie. Play with mommy's boobies."

Thomas began to fondle his mother's breasts, their substantial weight yielding under his touch.

"How does that look, Timothy? Is it exciting to see Thomas touch mommy's big titties."

"Yes, mom."

"Go ahead, Timothy. Play with your boner for us."

Timothy resumed his stroking, gawking at the hot scene before him—his erect, pantied brother groping his responsive mother.

"What do you think, Timothy? Should mommy help you?"

Timothy shuddered in enthusiasm. "Help me. Please." He gestured crudely at his erection.

She stood, reached into the shopping bag, and withdrew a bottle of oil. She popped the lid, knelt between Timothy's legs, and tipped the bottle over him. The glistening stream coated his erection and ran over his scrotum in rivulets that disappeared into the crack of his ass and began to darken the sofa cushion.

"There. Now you're all wet for mommy." She doused her hands in the same oil and reached for him.

Timothy gasped as her slick hands made contact with his glistening cock and slid about his bare, lubricated genitals. She enveloped him in her moist fist as she ran her free hand up his scrotum and began to gently knead and tug at his testicles.

"Isn't that nice, darling? Don't mommy's hands feel amazing."

His mother's touch was like nothing he'd ever experienced. The slick passage of her expert hands sent warm throbs of bliss through his body.

She began to lightly jack his lubricated prick, the oil squelching provocatively, as she continued to massage his testicles.

Timothy felt his orgasm begin to mount. But when his cock began to stiffen in imminent release, his mother smiled devilishly and slowed her ministrations.

"Please—" he groaned between clenched teeth. "Please make me cum."

"Thomas, isn't your brother adorable?"

Timothy glanced at his brother who remained in the chair opposite, watching them, slowly tugging at himself. Their eyes met briefly before quickly parting, the boys embarrassed at what they were doing.

Mrs. Henderson's fingers wandered south of Timothy's scrotum and began to lightly tease the soft skin of his perineum. As she continued to massage him there, Timothy began to wriggle in her hands.

"Are you watching closely, Thomas?" She glanced back at her son. It was a question that did not require an answer. He was riveted, a spasm of desire pinching his face as he continued to stroke himself. "Are you jealous, dear? Want your cock in mommy's hands?"

As his mother's fingers continued to massage the skin beneath his scrotum, an ambiguous longing began to mount inside Timothy, a desire to be touched elsewhere, and he began to hump into his mother's hands, desperate for further stimulation.
Thanks given by:
"Oh, honey. You're so cute. I know what it is that you want. Even if you don't."

Her fingers danced further south.

"You want mommy to touch your pussy."

She trailed a finger lower, her touch dancing maddeningly close to his sphincter, and Timothy suddenly understood what he longed for.

"Thomas, did you know that boys have pussies, too?"

Timothy's lips slackened.

"Do you want mommy to touch your pussy, baby?"

He moaned loudly.

"Say it, darling."

"Mom," he whispered. "Please. Please touch it."

She finally slid her finger lightly across the boy's anus, and he jumped.

"See, isn't that nice?" She did it again, and he groaned delightfully.

"Yes. Yes. Touch it more."

"Touch what, dear?"

He looked again at Thomas and then at his mother, silently pleading.

"You have to learn to ask for what you want, dear. What do you want me to touch?"

"Touch my pussy," he blurted. "Please, mom. Please, touch my pussy."

"Good boy." She set the pad of her index finger against the boy's anus and began to massage him in firm, slow circles as she continued to manipulate his weeping cock. "There doesn't that feel nice?"

"Oh my god," he groaned.

"Tell Thomas how nice it feels."

"It feels so good, Thomas!" He insisted.

He felt his ass begin to respond, his body inviting more. She placed the tip of her finger against his opening and felt him hug her with each stroke.

She observed the sudden retraction of his testicles, the rigidity of his cock. She could feel his orgasm culminating once more and slowed her hands.

Timothy whimpered in frustration. Another pearl of precum oozed from his cock and dripped to his abdomen.

"What a wanton little slut you are, Timothy. I had no idea."

Again and again, Mrs. Henderson used both of her hands to milk her boy excruciatingly close to orgasm before stopping. His cock pulsated between her fingers, the precum flowing freely onto his belly.

"You look so lovely wriggling in mommy's hands. You really are a beautiful boy."

He had dissolved into a whimpering puddle of lust, desperate for the sweet release his mother dangled before him, a true mommy's boy.

He wriggled about, pushing back against her exploratory finger, yearning for more.

"Do you want mommy to fuck your pussy, dear?"

"Ungh," he grunted.

"Like a girl? Do you want mommy to fuck you like a girl?"

"Please, mom. Please put it inside," he begged, defeated.

"Are you going to be a good little girl for mommy?

"Yes! I'm such a good little girl. Please fuck my pussy."

She released his cock, and it slapped wetly against his abdomen.

She fished in the shopping bag and removed a small wedge of silicone. She watched Timothy's eyes widen. "Mommy's going to fill you up, dear."

She doused the buttplug in oil and held it against his anus. She felt him tense in anticipation of the intrusion.

"Just relax, dear. Let go. Give yourself to mommy. Let me fill your pussy."

She began to apply some pressure to the toy and was amazed by how easily it slipped inside him.

"Oh." He breathed a soft sigh of surprise as she entered him. The spongy silicone nestled gently against his prostate, the nerves there responding to the foreign contact. He had no idea it would feel so good to have his ass filled.

"Feels nice?" She began to drum the bottom of the buttplug with her fingers. He gasped softly at the low jolts of pleasure that pulsed inside him.

She sat back then, rose to her feet, and pulled something from the bag. She crossed the living room to perch on the arm of Thomas's chair. She ran her hands down his chest and draped an arm around his shoulders.

"Thomas, honey. We're going to make Timothy cum now."

She handed him a small black gadget, and he blinked at it in confusion.

"It's a remote control, dear. When you press that button, the plug inside your brother will begin to vibrate."


"Go ahead, honey. I bet Timothy would be very appreciative." She leaned closer, murmuring something Timothy couldn't hear, and Thomas reddened.

He swallowed and looked up at his mother and then at his brother. He pressed the button and Timothy gasped as the plug began to purr softly inside him.

He groaned softly and melted deeper into the sofa cushions, wantonly revolving his hips.

"Yes," he groaned. "That's it."

Mrs. Henderson pointed at the remote in Thomas's hand. "Those buttons control the speed."

At this, Timothy's eyes snapped open, and he glared pleadingly at Thomas.

She knelt again and began to crawl slowly across the carpet, her shapely ass waving alluringly in the air, as she inched toward her son.

"Thomas, your brother has been such a good girl. We're going to make him cum now."

She reached once more into her bag and withdrew a small, pink vibrator.

She put her hands on Timothy's knees and pushed, parting his thighs so that he was fully displayed. She slithered between her son's legs, her soft breasts brushing his thighs and his bare genitals

She was unsettlingly close, her dark eyes peering deviously up into Timothy's tortured face. "Are you ready, dear?"

She twisted the base of the new toy, and it leaped audibly to life. She ran it lightly over his scrotum and along the length of his shaft.

"Yes, mom. Please." Timothy whispered.

"Tell Thomas, dear. Tell your brother to make you cum."

"Give me more, Thomas. Please. I'll make you cum so good. I promise."

Thomas fidgeted with the device in his hand but did not offer Timothy the release he so desperately needed.

She looked back at Thomas. "What do you think, dear."

Thomas shrugged.

"Timothy, honey," she whispered. "I think I know how we can inspire your brother."

"Mom—" Thomas began.

"You see, Thomas has a secret."

Thomas could not look at his brother, his embarrassment culminating in his face.

"He dreams of having his cock sucked by a beautiful boy like you."

Thomas groaned, either in humiliation or desire.

"His computer is full of dirty videos. Cocksucking bisexual boys. Sissy boys. Stuff like that."

Timothy gazed at Thomas, seized by an anomalous spasm of desire. Thomas, Timothy knew, held the keys to his pleasure, the satisfaction for which he so frantically yearned, and he looked at his brother in a bewildering new light.

"Oh, Thomas," he groaned. "Thomas, please. I'll suck your cock."

"You'll be a good little cocksucker?" His mother asked.

"Yes. I'll suck it."

"How does that sound, Thomas?"

Thomas's hands were trembling. He swallowed hard and gazed once more at the remote in his hand, the implications of its power stirring him. He tapped the designated button once, and Timothy moaned gratefully.

Thomas tapped the remote three more times in quick succession, and the toy began to rattle inside Timothy, a wild blur of ecstacy.

"More," he grunted. "More, Thomas. I'll suck your cock so good."

"Come here, honey." She reached for Thomas. "Don't be shy." He stood and crossed the room, standing next to his mother where she knelt between Timothy's legs.

"Sit up, Timothy." He leaned forward, his face inches from his mother's. She kissed him then, a lingering exchange of saliva. "Be a good little girl for mommy, okay?"
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He nodded, timidly.

"I'll show you how. Watch closely."

She dipped her soft mouth onto Thomas's cock, and he shivered at the unexpected attention, a soft puff escaping his lips.

"Like this, dear." Again, she slipped him between her full lips, her tongue rolling along the underside of his cock.

She kissed Timothy again, drawing a filament of saliva from Thomas's cock and bathing his lips in it. "Let me see you try."

Timothy gazed up at his brother.

She ran her hand into Timothy's hair at the back of his head. "Go ahead dear. Don't be shy."

He licked his lips and brushed them against his brother.

"That's it, honey. Suck it."

Timothy sank his mouth onto Thomas's cock.

"Good girl. Suck your brother's cock for mommy."

Timothy began to milk his brother in earnest, caressing him with his mouth, the toy inside him humming pleasantly. His mother watched affectionately. She took Thomas's scrotum in one hand, Timothy's erection in the other, the family forming an intimate, incestuous triangle.

"What a good little cocksucker you are."

"Give me more, Thomas. Please. Make me cum." He ran his mouth the length of Thomas's erection, desperate to earn his reward.

"Thomas, honey." She pointed. Press that blue button."

He fiddled with the remote, and the toy in his brother's ass began to undulate like an exploratory tongue.

"Ungghhh." Timothy's groan slipped down into a deeper, foreign register.

"Oh my God. Oh my God."

He began to writhe and slide about on the sofa. His eyes rolled back in his head.

Mrs. Henderson pushed Thomas. He lurched forward and stumbled, straddling his prone brother. She reached between her boys, grasped their touching cocks in one hand, and began to jack her twins in unison, their sloppy erections sliding against one another.

This was the moment she'd waited for, her obedient, sissified boys desperate to cum for their mother.

"You've been such good boys, haven't you?"

Her sons writhed against one another.

"And good boys get to cum in mommy's hands."

"Cum for mommy, boys. Fill my hands. Give me all those hot spurts."

Timothy's orgasm arrived first, creeping upon him once more. In the excruciating moment before climax, he felt his fluids inch through him, filling his genitals, creeping up his urethra, before spilling over.

Suspended on the very precipice of relief, a trickle of ejaculate dribbled from the tip of his cock into his mother's busy hand.

His body stiffened and he mewled like an animal.

"Give us all those hot spurts, dear."

Finally, his ass convulsed, his anus gripping the toy, a spasm of explosive pleasure against the tongue that wagged inside him. The first spurt decorated his brother's bare chest.

"Good girl!" His mother squealed in delight. "Shoot all over your brother."

As Timothy erupted, she reached behind Thomas and touched the vibrator to his anus.

The sudden warm lubricant that had filled his mother's hand, a sinuous blur in his lap, the thrum of the toy against him, lured him irretrievably to orgasm.

"Come on, honey. Timothy needs his cum bath, too."

Thomas began to empty himself in voluminous spurts, his orgasm squeezing soft grunts from him, his cum gushing onto his brother's already slick belly.

As their cocks continued to pulsate, Mrs. Henderson leaned forward suddenly, her hair cascading against the boys, and bathed her lips in the flowing semen. She ran her soft, plump mouth over the twin cum fountains, catching thick globules of the ejeculate on her lips and the side of her mouth, drinking from those beckoning spigots, at last.

Spurt after spurt flowed over their touching genitals, an interminable geyser of ejaculate. Their fluids slid down their skin and stained their panties. She had never seen so much cum.

As their tandem orgasms subsided, the boys sat stunned, each gaping at the other. Thomas blinked as though awakening from a trance.

"There. Wasn't that nice?" Their mother murmured.

The trio sat flushed and breathing audibly in the sudden silence.

As the boys gazed at one another, Thomas was seized by a sudden gratitude for his submissive brother. He leaned forward and dipped his tongue into his Timothy's open mouth.

"Yes, my darlings," Mrs. Henderson purred triumphantly. She began to caress her two children as they kissed. Thomas melted against his brother, their tongues waving softly against one another, a long, muffled moan escaping from between their engaged mouths."My sexy bi babies," she whispered.

She watched serenely as her boys embraced, each lost to the other's desire, and felt as their touching cocks began to swell in her hand once more.

"What good bisexual boys you've become."
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