You have nothing to grip on, nor can you move much. The weight of her breasts against each other restrict your movement. So you sort of resign and let her bouncing chest take you where it will.
That "will" turns out to be the front of her bathrobe, and you quickly realize that she has not been wearing a bra the whole time, which does not explain why her breasts have been so tight together. But of course coherent thought is difficult when you're being tossed and mushed around between your mother's breasts like a stray crumb.
Though as you realize you are now face-to-face with her nipple (which one, you do not know,) you think maybe she would have noticed a crumb by now. Outside, your sister, Amanda, drinking from her lukewarm coffee, glances at Carolyn and sees that her right nipple is erect, portruding through the satin robe somewhat. But she attributes it to the cold in the room and tries not to stare, and continues reading the paper.
"Poor kid," Amanda says, "says here he was going to be enrolled at U of B next year, too... Which, heh, is, incedentally, where the aunt went. Oh god that's not funny!" But of course she laughed anyway.
"Amanda," Carolyn said, reprimanding her, though she laughed too.
You however were not laughing, and were instead freaking the fuck out, trying not to move an inch against Carolyn's nipple lest she feel it. The nipple is the most sensitive part of a breast, and if she'd kill you for being in her cleavage unexpectedly, well...
This reminds you, actually, of your childhood, or what little you remember of it. You're pretty sure Carolyn breastfed you, and carried you in her cleavage then, so why not now? Not the breastfeeding, obviously, the cleavage stuff. Amanda does it, (though Carolyn passively objects,) and every female with breasts large enough that you know does it with every tiny you know (including yourself,) so what gives?
You know, the nipple itself is about the same size as you, not even counting her areola.
That "will" turns out to be the front of her bathrobe, and you quickly realize that she has not been wearing a bra the whole time, which does not explain why her breasts have been so tight together. But of course coherent thought is difficult when you're being tossed and mushed around between your mother's breasts like a stray crumb.
Though as you realize you are now face-to-face with her nipple (which one, you do not know,) you think maybe she would have noticed a crumb by now. Outside, your sister, Amanda, drinking from her lukewarm coffee, glances at Carolyn and sees that her right nipple is erect, portruding through the satin robe somewhat. But she attributes it to the cold in the room and tries not to stare, and continues reading the paper.
"Poor kid," Amanda says, "says here he was going to be enrolled at U of B next year, too... Which, heh, is, incedentally, where the aunt went. Oh god that's not funny!" But of course she laughed anyway.
"Amanda," Carolyn said, reprimanding her, though she laughed too.
You however were not laughing, and were instead freaking the fuck out, trying not to move an inch against Carolyn's nipple lest she feel it. The nipple is the most sensitive part of a breast, and if she'd kill you for being in her cleavage unexpectedly, well...
This reminds you, actually, of your childhood, or what little you remember of it. You're pretty sure Carolyn breastfed you, and carried you in her cleavage then, so why not now? Not the breastfeeding, obviously, the cleavage stuff. Amanda does it, (though Carolyn passively objects,) and every female with breasts large enough that you know does it with every tiny you know (including yourself,) so what gives?
You know, the nipple itself is about the same size as you, not even counting her areola.
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May 12, 2023
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