I am Jake's Mom Ch. 01

He shakily brought his hands to cup the massive breasts before him, noting how sensitive they were compared to his muscular chest. He pulled the heavy masses into himself and leaned forward to gaze over them.

His crotch was cupped in matching material and he eyed it expecting to find a bulge or the outline of his dick snaking to one side. He swallowed; a triangle of red material lay snug against him and he knew there was no way he could fit within it. He tried to ignore the thighs and the tiny pedicured feet in thong sandals doing their best to balance the curvy frame he was inhabiting.

His left hand fell from his breast and he took the helm of the triangle in two manicured fingers. He clenched a breast firmly with his other hand and peered over the sizable bust with wide eyes, pulling the fabric from his flat tummy. Again he was met with an immediate change of flesh color: another tan line, a triangle of paler flesh that matched the suit, evidence it had been there over many sunny days. In the center of the triangle was a wisp of blonde hair, trimmed smartly in a thin stripe. It led a trail down his mound.

A trail to nothing.

He let go of the material in a snap. He felt the panties, hugging his pelvis, containing it. He surmised from the pressure that behind him hung a prominent buttocks. His nipples dug in harder to the bikini top. They felt thick. Thicker than his had ever been. He let his hand trace its way down the curved thigh of the suit before hooking his fingernail beneath the thin section of fabric between his thighs. He pulled it to the side and felt a breeze of cool air. Why did he feel so wet down there? So warm. He brushed his finger delicately over the moist folds for a moment before releasing the fabric with a snap. He pressed his fingers together. They were slippery. He winced.

What is this?

He rested his hand back to the hem of the suit and pushed beneath it, his fingertips running over the soft line of fur on his pubis. He stroked his hand back and forth over his pubis. Soft skin, then a line of hair, then soft skin; his crotch perfectly framed -- divided by the pubic hair down it's center.

He stood in the hallway, confused.

Mere seconds ago, he had been submerged in water, diving for the stone. Now he was dry, except for a strange feeling between his legs. He heard the muffled commotion of Mike and Chad horsing around outside and turned to his left, to the half-opened bathroom door. He pushed it open with his dainty hand and stepped in. He squinted to see between the blinds in the window.

Chad and Mike's muscular forms were wrestling at the edge of the pool. Mike pushed Chad into the water. Mrs. Moore's brown eyes focused, allowing Brandon's gaze to linger on the muscles of Mike's back for a moment, taking them in as water splashed behind him.

Mike is strong.

Time seemed to slow. Brandon turned to the mirror, trying hard not to anticipate exactly who he would find staring back at him. A curvy body clad in two pieces: a red bikini, a form he knew all too well, a body he had pieced together in his mind countless times before. He regarded it for a moment before turning back to the window. Mrs. Moore's long hair fell in his face. He pulled it from his eyes and gazed at Mike's back again, admiring his chiseled form, before turning back to the mirror, trading each scene in his mind. He hoped to add his own muscular frame to the sequence of images, to return himself back to reality, but when he looked down he was met with the cleavage of Mrs. Moore's huge tits from altogether new and foreign angle: From above. From Mrs. Moore's point of view. They weighed on his back. Her back.

His hand was still beneath him, inching dangerously close to something he never thought he would touch. Nearing the unmistakable heat he had felt when he had dipped his hands beneath his girlfriends' panties. It felt so wrong he nearly pulled his hand away.

What would Mrs. Moore think? Her body's ever-hardening nipples gave him one clue. He breathed in expectantly and nestled a finger into Mrs. Moore's labia.

He felt light-headed and high.

Outside, Mike was beating his chest as if the victor of a jungle battle. Mike looked over his shoulder and Brandon could tell it was to see if Ms. Moore was watching. Brandon smirked and settled his fingers into Ms. Moore's swollen lips. Mike is such an asshole. His weight fell to one foot and his breasts and ass shifted to balance his new posture.

Mike could only dream of having a body like this. Having these tits. And here he was, seeing them first hand. Feeling them first hand. Possessing them. He cupped the breasts in his hands and laughed. Finally, he had something Mike couldn't have. As Brandon's eyes traced Mike's muscular frame, he decided he might as well have a little fun at Mike's expense.