It's back-to-school time. Back-to-college time for me, but mom still insists on outfitting me before I return the two hours to state school. This year we decided on one big trip to a major department store; mom chooses, I try on, and we jointly decide on some clothes (since she's paying).
I was little trouble in the beginning. I hate shopping, but mom found a selection quickly enough and I soon installed myself in the dressing room. Mom brought the clothes, I changed and modeled, and we set some aside for possible purchase.
The snag came when deciding on pants. Mom is convinced that skinny jeans are the only way to go. Hip girls love 'em, she says. And I've caught her checking out more than one guy in those tight-assed pants. But they just felt wrong to me.
"Oh come on honey. I'm sure they're not that bad," mom said through the slated wooden door of the dressing room. "I still know your size, after all."
"It's not that," I replied, still trying to stuff myself into the jeans she picked out. "I just need more...room. Let's find some others," I pleaded, beginning to peel off the pants.
Mom burst into the dressing room, clothes draped over one arm. I nearly fell over as the door clicked behind her. "Now son," she said, staring down at the pants around my knees. "I have exquisite taste. These jeans are the best; you'll find no better," she said, adding the clothes on her arm to the pile in the corner. "I want you to be happy at college, and successful...with girls. They care about these sorts of things."
I stared back dumbly. I wasn't wearing a shirt, and the jeans were pulled down below my boxer briefs, revealing the usual cock bulge. Mom was looking at me like she expected me to do something.
"OK silly," she laughed, walking towards me and wrapping her arms around my waist. I jumped back, bumped into the thin wall before she settled me. "Relax, honey," mom said, reaching her hands below my ass to the top of the jeans. "We still need to see if these actually fit, despite your whining." I could feel mom's breath on my face, warm, clothed breasts against my bare chest as she shimmied the back of the jeans up my thighs.
I looked down as her hands ran across my ass cheeks, fingers pulling the pants up with them. Mom's thin, summer blouse had become loose from all the clothes sorting, and cleavage and the hint of a white bra stared up to meet my gaze.
The feel of her against me, mom's hands on my ass, cleavage showing, caused an undeniable growth of the usual bulge occupying the front of my boxer briefs. Mom must have felt it. I closed my eyes for a moment, noticed for the first time her perfume, and tried hopelessly to focus on something other than the sensation of my hardening cock only two thin strips of fabric away from mom's stomach.
"There," she said as the back of the pants reached my hips. She gave a tug as they reached the top, which squeezed not uncomfortably on my balls. I instinctively rested my hands on her hips. She looked up, seemingly bemused, smiled back and ran her hands around the edges of my briefs to my front.
"Now, to make sure they fit." Mom grabbed the two hanging flaps in front, right hand grazing my now fully hard dick as she brought them together. "Almost..." she mumbled, straining the material to bring the button into its place.
"Honey," she said, fumbling with the top for a few more seconds. My hands stayed planted on her hips, responding with gentle squeezes to each brush of her hand against my stiff cock. "Sweetie," she continued, trying now for the zipper. Her free hand grabbed the base of the groin, essentially cupping my balls through the fabric as she tried to wrench the zipper past my erection.
"Baby," she whispered now. "We'll never get these sorted while you...resist." She let the two flaps fall open and rested her hands on my bare stomach.
I looked down now in shock, finally realizing what the issue had been. I blushed, ashamed, but pulled her closer to whisper in her ear. "Mom, I'm so sorry," I began, aware that her hands had traced down to the top of my briefs. "The stress of shopping; going back to school; the tight pants, it's-"
Mom looked up reassuringly. "I know baby. And it's alright. Flattering, even, but we need to get past this if we ever want to leave here successfully. And since this is my fault..." she glanced around the small changing room, listening more than looking.
She ran her hands from the jeans to the groin of my briefs, tracing the outline of my cock to the damp spot of precum. My hands shifted with hers, moving from her thighs down the back of her skirt, resting on the meaty center of her ass cheeks.
We both looked down as she tugged at the elastic waistband, allowing my cock to spring forward against her. Mom reached a hand underneath, holding the briefs down and cupping my balls. Her free hand began stroking my cock, rubbing precum around the tip when she reached it.
The sensation was amazing. I squeezed mom's ass while she stroked and cupped me, pulling her groin up and against mine. She giggled a little with each squeeze; I planted my face by her ear and began to whisper.
"Mom, this is so embarrassing..." I started. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."
She moved her face to look into my eyes, inches away. "Baby, I said it's fine. If you're worried about what I'm seeing..." her voice trailed off. Mom suddenly stopped stroking, let the elastic band slap against my balls and began unbuttoning her blouse. "We'll make it a little more even, OK?"
I wasn't about to protest. I watched as she finished unbuttoning the last button and threw her blouse on the pile of clothes. "Um, son?" she asked as I continued staring blankly at her chest. "If you'll release your grip on my ass for a second, maybe you could help with the bra hooks?"
I snapped back, reluctantly taking my hands from her plump thighs to the middle of her back. After a little fumbling the clasp came free, and mom added her bra to the growing pile in the corner.
"There," she whispered again, squishing her meaty breasts against my chest as her hand returned inside my briefs. "Now we're even, and you don't have to feel bad. Right?"
I certainly didn't feel bad. As mom went back to rubbing, I noticed her large, pink aureoles. As I squeezed and tugged on her breasts, my mouth instinctively searched for hers.
Mom was surprised at the kiss, at first. But soon her tongue was darting into my mouth, returning massaging motions and making wet, smacking sounds. She whimpered into my mouth with each tug at her nipples.
"Mom," I broke away, devilish thought having just entered my mind. "We're actually not even." I nodded down at her hand on my dick, then at her skirt. She looked up confused while my hand reached behind her skirt and began to unzip.
"Son, no, we can't," she protested weakly. As her skirt fell to the floor I looked back into her eyes. "You already are." I moved my hand into her panties now, running over short, soft pubic hair to find her clit. "This is even."
We stood in the corner of the dressing room for minutes, stroking and caressing each other. Mom grew wetter in my hand. I came closer to cumming with each cock rub. Whimpers and wet, kissing noises filled the small room.