Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*
Mind-Controlled Mommy Pops Her Cherry
Kimberly Park
I stared at the mirror and sighed in disgust. Flat-chested. No tits to speak of. Just some puffy, dark-brown nipples. Hardly any curves to my hips. I didn't have that cute of a face. It was hard to say I wasn't a boy even with my long hair.
What girl would like me? Where was the appeal? I sighed, turning away. I wanted to blame my lack of tits on being half-Korean, but my mother was short and busty. She had big breasts. These large F-cups that sometimes seemed to overflow whatever she was wearing.
I wanted to have tits that a girl's hands just had a hard time grasping. That there would be too much tit for them to even attempt to hold in their hands. It would be futile for them to even try. That was what I wanted. Wouldn't that be something?
I sighed and dressed. I was nineteen. Running out of hope that I would grow anything. That this was it. I was stuck with the smallest A-cups ever. As I pulled out a bra, I sighed at how little shape it had. Practically a training bra.
Why did I even bother?
I slipped it on anyways then stepped into my panties. I pulled on a pair of tight skinny jeans. I didn't even have much of an ass. Nothing to show off. I pulled on a striped belly shirt next, showing off some naval, and headed out of my bedroom.
"Hey, Kimberly," my twin brother said. He was coming out of his room across from me. Andrew had the same build as me. Slender and boyish. But he was a boy. He
should
have that same build. He pushed up his glasses, his short, black hair slicked back. I let mine grow long.
Not that it helped.
"Hey, Andrew," I muttered.
"You look like you're down in the dumps," he said, putting his arm around me. "Need to talk?"
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. As close as I was to Andrew, he was still a guy. How could I talk to him about the fact my tits weren't as big as Mom's? That I wanted to bury my face in our mother's breasts, rub against them, push my own non-existent titties against hers, and suckle on her nipples in the hopes that some of her F-cup glory would rub off on me. If he were another girl, at least he could understand my mammary woes.
Then we could really talk. As it was, the best I could do was just say, "I'm fine."
He sighed. "You're not, Kimberley."
"No." I swallowed. "But I'm nineteen. I'm not supposed to be fine."
"I'm nineteen and fine," he said with a smile.
See? He was so oblivious to what was going on with me. Guys were so simple and dumb. I liked Andrew. He was the only guy worth talking to, but he would make such a better sister than a brother. A twin sister who would be going through everything I was.
We would complain about our lack of tits together, then touch each other, massage the other's tits to try and make them grow bigger and bigger. That would lead to kissing. Nipple sucking. To finally eating another girl out. Feasting on some pussy. Sixty-nining with my twin. That would be wild.
My pussy clenched. That hot itch to masturbate
again
shot through me. I already rubbed one out to some step-mommy lesbian porn this morning. There were some hot new clips up op Pornhub in the genre that got me off so fast.
Sadly, I only had one sister to talk with, and she wasn't the greatest for that.
Sandra popped out of her bedroom, her dyed-blonde hair swaying about her pale face. She took the most after our father, who'd run off years ago. She had round eyes and pale skin. She didn't look like one of the family at all as she flounced by Andrew and me, her face in her phone. At twenty-one, she was curvy and gorgeous. She didn't have Mom's big tits, but she had a nice pair that her tight crop top showed off. Her short skirt flounced over her curvy rump and around her gorgeous thighs. She wore knee-high socks that gave her this naughty look.
She was a cheerleader and knew how to move.
"OMG!" she said. Yes, she said OMG out loud. She spun around and thrust her phone at Andrew and me. "Look at what Sascha just posted. Isn't that so cute!"
I had a glimpse of a GIF of a kitten trapped in a ball of yarn, looking so adorable. Before either Andrew or I could respond to our older sister, Sandra had already turned around and flounced through the living room of our apartment, not waiting for our response, her fingers typing on the phone.
God, I hated Sascha as much as I wanted to fingerbang her.
Mom hurried out of her bedroom dressed in her office lady clothes. Pencil skirt, buttoned-up blouse, a blazer hanging over her arm. She put a K-cup into the coffee brewer and started her coffee going as she flew around the room.
"Have you seen my hoop earrings, Sandra?" Mom asked, those big boobs of hers hard to hide in her blouse. She was shorter than all of us. This curvy, Korean MILF. She had an accent that none of us did. In Korean, she snapped,
"Sandra, I asked you a question! Have you seen my earrings!"
"They're in my bedroom, Mom," Sandra said. She never answered in Korean. Which was good, her accent was god-awful.
"Then get them!" Mom snapped. "I'm going to be late for work."
Mom had to work so hard. Some days, I just wanted to kneel before her and massage her feet. Get her all nice and relaxed, her legs spreading farther and farther apart until I could see her panties. Then I would strike. I would bury my face between her thighs and lick at her cunt. I would just feast on her. Make her cum. She would gasp and moan and drown me in all her incestuous cream.
I had to stop watching step-mother lesbian porn. It was rotting my brain, but...
It would be so hot to eat out my mother's cunt. My sister's cunt. My best friend's cunt! I just wanted to eat pussy so bad, but what girl would want
me?
Plain, boyish me. I wasn't hot. I wasn't even butch. I was too Asian to be butch. Almost androgynous. Sexless.
"You really should comment on this GIF," Sandra said, glancing up at me. "I sent it to you. You haven't even pulled out your phone. Did you put it on silent
again?"
"Yep," I said. "Why would I want to comment on dumb Sascha's pic? She's a bitch."
"Language!" Mom snapped, coming out of my sister's bedroom and putting on those earrings.
"Sorry, Mom," I muttered as she headed out the door and off to work.
"You should comment on her post because she's Sascha." My sister shook her head. "That's why you don't have any friends, Kimberly. You're too stuck-up to do some sucking up. Play the politics, get Sascha to like you, and you'll make the cheer squad like me."
"Yeah, and how much do you have to lick Sascha's asshole or pussy for that?" I muttered, a part of me so eager to do just that.
"Don't believe those gross rumors," Sandra muttered. "We're not a bunch of dykes on the cheer squad. We'd rather suck dicks. You just like and comment on her stuff. Throw in a cute GIF or sticker. It's not hard. And pad those bras. So god didn't give you tits, the rest of the world doesn't have to know that."
"Thanks, Sandra," I muttered, heading to the door. "Lie to the world. That's a great way to succeed."
"How do you think Sascha is top queen?" Sandra asked. "Or me? Truth doesn't get people shit. You got to massage it. Or don't. Be a loser."
"Real great advice, Sandra," Andrew sneered as I headed out the door. "Sister of the fucking year right here."
"Oh, please, you do it, too. I hear you got to second base with--"
I slammed the door, wanting to shout. Pad my bra? What good would that do when the girl who thought I had a great rack unhooked my bra and tissue papers fell out. Then she would see that I have no tits. She might wonder if I was some trans girl or something.
I sighed as I rode the elevator down by myself and hurried out the sidewalk. I rushed to my college, thinking. My mind was lost in such a depression. I would be an old, crazy cat lady who never once had her V-card punched by a hot girl with a strap-on. No making out with a cute girl. No having a threesome with two twin sisters or daisy-chaining with the cheer squad, munching on Sandra's cunt while Sascha went down on my twat, all of us moaning and gasping and squealing in delight as we filled the locker room with our passion. No going down on my blonde MILF of an English professor, Mrs. Masters. No scissoring my cunt with Liza the exchange student from France. I bet she had a big, thick bush like me.
No making out with my best friend Erika while we fingered each other's cunts at our next slumber party, our tongues dancing, our digits sliding over the--
"Wow, you're spaced out this morning, Kimberly."
I blinked to see my BFF Erika Nair fall into place. She was an Indian girl with such gorgeous, brown skin, her face cute and adorable. She had such kissable lips and these dark, sultry eyes that I could just fall in love with. Her parents had given her a Western first name while her middle name was impossible to pronounce. She had tits. Nice round ones.
The only pair of live tits I had seen when we were changing at a slumber party. They were perky with dark-brown nipples that I just wanted to suckle on. She was gorgeous. Just being near her made my heart patter so much.
If only she were a lesbian.
She was as straight as an arrow.
"Man, I need to get a boyfriend," Erika said. "You know. It's one of those mornings where I really, really want to get laid for the first time."
"Yeah," I said, swallowing. My hands were so dry. "I know what you mean. I could really use some d-dick."
"Right?" She hooked her arm with mine and laughed. I had been terrified to tell her I was gay since I realized it. What if she didn't want to be best friends with a dyke. "Pity all the guys at our college are immature little shits."
I nodded.
"Though your brother is pretty cute," said Erika. "I hear he's dating Natalie. You know, the redhead that we had in chemistry last semester."
"Really?" I said. "I hadn't heard. But he wouldn't do me any good."
"Eww, no," said Erika. "If I had a brother, we could swap them. Then we could marry them and be sisters. That would be so wonderful, wouldn't it?"
