Author's Note: This story won't be for everyone. Incest, huge breasts on a short women, and generally unrealistic proportions. This is just fetish material and it should be treated as such. If you don't like it, go look somewhere else. But if you're game, leave a comment! Feedback is very much appreciated, so enjoy! (Obviously all characters are over 18)
* * *
"We recommend staying at home tomorrow, however if you do have to drive, drive slow and steady, icy roads and white-out conditions are dangerous to--"
I turned the keys in the ignition, cutting off the radio warning for the blizzard that was soon going to be upon the area. It was mid-afternoon and I just pulled into my mom's garage after making a long road trip, one I was going to have to repeat in reverse with my mom in tow. Christmas holidays were here and the semester was over, giving me a few weeks to relax.
I opened the car door and heard a familiar voice call out.
"Marc! Honey! How are you?"
It was my mom, shouting from the top of the set of stairs that led into the house.
"Hi Mom, I'm good."
My mom, Kelly, walked down the stairs to greet me.
"Oh! It's so good to see my young man again!"
I'm Marc, 21 years old and in my fourth year of university. I'm pretty much exactly 5'11", have brown hair, blue eyes, and a big ol' toothy grin. I have a bit of a baby face and I think my ears stick out a little too far, so while I think I'm reasonably attractive, I know I wouldn't stick out much in a crowd.
My height was what was currently on my mind, as my mom took a few steps across the pavement in the garage and wrapped herself around my waist in a hug.
I had gotten my height entirely from my father, who was just an inch taller than me. My dad, Paul, had died in a car accident five years ago, a drunk driver had run a red light and instantly killed the both of them. Our family had mostly recovered, though for some reason my mom still hadn't brought anyone home that I was aware of.
She was only 38 years old, but looked years younger. She had me at 17, an accident in her final year of high school, but luckily my father was a year older and really did love her, because he devoted himself to providing the best home he could to my Mom and myself, working as a roofer out of high school. My sister Emily was born three years later, and when Emily was old enough for preschool my mom began working as a secretary to help out.
Mom was 5' on a good day, the reason for her hugging my waist. Including her height, she was essentially my definition of beauty. Long blonde hair dangled down her back, surrounding a gorgeous face with high cheekbones and an upturned nose. She had plump red lips and big blue eyes, with neatly trimmed eyebrows and remarkably little make-up.
Even with such a beautiful face, the first thing that most people noticed about her when she entered a room was her body.
If you were rude, you might call her just a bit overweight. Most sane people would just call her curvy thick. Her weight padded out her curves, giving her ass and legs thickness to die for. But her real impressive assets sat on her chest.
Simply put, her breasts were huge. Seriously. If you took two watermelons, they would probably be smaller than my mom's boobs. Her being as short as she was only made them appear larger on her small body.
I realized what a beauty I had for a mother growing up and I unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your outlook, hadn't gotten desensitized to her in the least. I'm ashamed to admit it, but puberty made me jerk off dozens of times to her. I knew that incest was bad, but I figured as long as fantasies remained just that, it didn't matter.
We headed inside from the cold garage, chatting about how university was going and mom's work. My father had a massive life insurance plan, meaning when he died the remuneration was large enough to pay off the house and set mom up for life, as long as she rationed the money carefully. Mom decided to take advantage and quit her job to work part time at a local public school, helping teachers take care of the younger students.
"... It's unbelievable! I swear, if Cindy calls me short one more time..."
It was late in the evening now and we were sitting on the couch in the living room, talking once more about mom's work. We had cracked open a bottle of red wine and had almost drained the bottle when a lapse in the conversation occurred. I decided, emboldened by the alcohol, to ask a question I'd had for years.
"...Hey Mom?"
She looked at me from the other side of the couch, our feet entangled due to our position.
"What is it?"
"Why haven't you tried finding someone? I know dad would be okay with you finding another person to make you happy."
She perked her head at the question that came out of the blue. Her eyes widened briefly before turning away from me.
"Sweetheart, it's not always easy to find someone who appreciates you for being you." She said dejectedly, "I really did try for the first year or two, but it just didn't work out with anyone. Besides," She turned her gaze to her body with moisture beginning to collect in her eyes, "Not everyone wants to be with such a short blob."
I was shocked by her answer. She was sitting there insulting herself when she was what I had been comparing girls to for years.
"That's ridiculous Mom!" I stood up from the couch, raising my voice in frustration, "You're the most beautiful woman I know! You're kind, fun, and hell, if you weren't my mom, I'd... totally..."
My voice fizzled out as I realized what I was about to say, "I'd totally fuck you"? There's no way she'd take that well.
"You'd totally what?" She said, raising her eyes.
At least I managed to cheer her up, as she smiled playfully at me. We both must have been pretty drunk by now.
I averted my own eyes before answering.
"...Never mind..."
Her tone grew more serious, but she didn't return to the same self-loathing tone that she had before.
"Marc, not many people appreciate my particular..." she hesitated, glancing at her enormous bust, "assets, we'll say. And the people who do like them don't want to be with me," she used her hands to lift the large masses, "so much as they want to be with my girls, y'know? But thank you, it does cheer me up to hear that at least someone can appreciate me for me, including my body."
Mom stood up, approaching me.
"Well I don't know about you, but I think it's about time to go to bed. We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow."
I nodded as she walked towards me.
"Now give your mom a good night kiss!" she said, exaggeratedly puckering her lips.
I leaned over to allow mom to reach my face level, but instead of waiting for me to kiss her forehead, as I had many times before, she lifted herself onto her toes.
Her soft, plump, cherry red lips connected with my own, lingering longer than a familial kiss should. When she pulled back, a fiery passion flickered across her face, before she quickly returned to her usual smiling self.
I stood stock still, jaw slack as I watched her pass me. She briefly turned, winking playfully at me.
"Looks like Momma's still got it!"
She quickly turned back, butt shaking as she proceeded down the hallway to her room for bed.
* * *
We rose early, getting ready for the long trip that awaited us. We were going to be driving for most of the day, but with the approaching blizzard, it might be an overnight ordeal.
As usual, I was ready first, so I cracked open my laptop and was sifting through facebook when my mom finally came out of her room. She was the most indecisive person I knew when it came to picking her clothing.
"What do you think? Is this good for a family get-together?"
She was wearing a pink top and grey pencil skirt that hugged her generous curves. The top showed off her massive breasts while sticking to her small frame tightly. The skirt clung to her behind, putting her wide hips and large ass on display.
Despite the many years I had to adjust, I still could hardly tear my eyes off her wondrous body. My gaze wandered up, briefly pausing at the unavoidable cleavage that revealed itself in any outfit she wore.
"It's good." I finally managed to choke out.
"Really?" She said, "Do you think it is? Do you think this skirt is too short?"
I looked back down at her skirt, the hem ending a few inches above her knees. It might be a little short in an office setting, but it was alright for our Christmas gathering, perhaps bordering on too formal.
"It's fine."
She looked exasperated at my response.
"Ugh, fine isn't good enough, let me try another outfit. I'll be right back!"
After another few minutes she emerged again.
This time she was wearing a white dress shirt and another black pencil skirt, but longer than her previous one. The dress shirt was multiple sizes too large, but was necessary to contain her chest. She had a belt cinched around her stomach, creating curves that any woman would be jealous of.
"How about this?" She said, looking down at her body, "I picked a longer skirt this time."
In my eyes she looked absolutely gorgeous.
"It looks great!" I said, "Maybe formal, but it's still good."
She got the same look in her eyes.
"Too formal?"
She looked down, appraising her outfit once again.
"Ah, you're totally right! I'll be back!"
"No Mom, I said-" She left before I could stop her, "-it was great..."
I spent more time half-heartedly flicking through my feed. I was slightly ashamed to admit it, but I was sporting an uncomfortably hard boner. Despite the blood relation, my mother was the epitome of beauty, so having her try outfits on and having me judge them was making me quite horny.
She finally came out of the room again, and she was dressed to impress.
She was wearing a light-grey dress that looked to be made of a soft cotton material, as well as a pair of black stockings. The dress ended just below her knees, but didn't cling quite as tight to her legs as the previous skirts. I found myself slightly disappointed that the dress covered her chest quite well, leaving only a hint of cleavage in sight. However, the dress didn't leave any of her curves to the imagination and with the addition of the stockings, I found myself grasping for something to say.
"Well?"
I struggled for a moment, before blurting out the first thing I could think of that wasn't "Holy shit!" or "You're so fucking sexy!"
"Aren't you gonna be cold?"
"Fuck" As she looked down I immediately began to berate myself internally.
"I suppose you're right, let me look for something else."
Before she turned back around to change I knew I had to interject.