"What if women always sought my approval and validation on what they looked like particularly in terms of sexually attracting me?"

Once the question allegedly etched itself into reality Max made his limber way downstairs to see... well, frankly, he wasn't quite sure yet. How were he to test this out?

"Oh, hey! Morning," smiled his winsome mother, Amy, as once reached the kitchen. She was an attractive blonde with cute looks that could be marked a threat to global climate.

He greeted her back. "Morning Mom. Whatchya doing?"

"Not much, just cleaning up. Your sister left a bit of a mess last night." Suddenly, she paused, hand still on the dustpan she was holding. "Oh, honey, by the way."

"Yes, Mom?"

Airily, she moved away from behind the counter. "Does my body look good in this outfit?"

Max blinked.

What did she just ask him?

"Er, sorry, wha..."

"I mean, do I look, you know, pretty enough for you this morning, dear? Sexy?" She looked down and adjusted her right leg, curving it against her left in classic pin-up posh. "Or am I a bit too picket-fence for you..."

Max let out a silent laugh, watching his mother's indelible blonde cuteness stare back at him through blue swirling eyes, completely unfazed about her line of questioning, or how she was behaving towards her flesh and blood son.

It worked. But of course it did! It turned night into morning in a split second! What was that if not black magic?

With a prompt chortle, Max declared, "Yeah, I'd say so... very pretty. I always thought you were attractive, Mom. Sometimes I'd jerk off to images of you bending over and cum buckets just thinking about you making lewd remarks and stuff." A flimsy silence followed. "I'm a weirdo aren't I..."

It was a lie, to be honest -- not that he ever denied his mother's poster-perfect looks. But mainly, he was just scouting for the sort of response this would trigger.

And, to his stifled triumph, he got one.

"Oh, honey!" his mom deflected in a sympathetic drone and -- dare he detect it -- partial disbelief. "Of course not, what on earth would you say that for? Nothing makes me happier than hearing that I'm so attractive my, well... my own son secretly masturbates while fantasizing about me!" Her cute cheeks were parted by those sunny lips. "It makes me very proud as a mother."

As she looked back at him with that cleansing smile, Max asked, "Really?"

"Really," Amy laughed. "Now that you mention it... I wonder how many times I accidentally walked in on you, you know, doing it... and actually interrupted one such **** fantasy you were having?"

He played bashful. "Er... maybe a couple..."

Another laugh left Amy's lips. "Well. Pardon me for raining on the parade, honey," she flicked the boy's forehead with a playful finger.

Meanwhile, Max grew hard underneath his suffocating trousers and thought to himself in carnal glee. He had completely changed the standard perception of things, and she -- and presumably, the world en masse -- was none the wiser.

Apology accepted, Mom...