Nothing, apparently

"Ah, I should have remembered break started on a Saturday!" You chastise yourself. "Well, what do you want to do today?"

She grins "Well I, for one, am going back to sleep! Thanks again for breakfast, sweetie!" It's only now that you realize she's already finished her plate, must've woken up hungry. The brilliant grin she sports stays on her face as she walks over to you and plants another kiss, on the other cheek this time. "See you when I wake up!"

And with that, she sashays back to her room and closes the door behind her.

Well, now. You're fully hard and have the memory of splitting your mothers cheeks apart with your cock to use as ammunition, what say you fire off some rounds back in your own room?

Heh, sounds like a plan...

...Once the dishes are done...

You're elbow deep in dishes, the pans you just used were already cleaned, you're just washing what you forgot to yesterday when a thought strikes you.

She went right back to sleep after waking up, she's never done that before. Was she avoiding you after the hotdogging incident that you *still* haven't relieved yourself to the thought of?

No, you think, she seemed totally unaffected by it beyond the initial shock.

You start to worry that maybe she's sick and feeling fatigued. You go over home remedy recipes in your head and think maybe you should go and check on her, just to make sure she's okay. Lord knows she hates to complain, your bacon was practically charcoal!

After drying your hands you walk over to your mothers door. You look down at yourself and contemplate if you should ake care of your bulge before checking on her, but that could take up to an hour and who knows if she's sick or in pain!

You readjust, angling it so it is horizontal and is hopefully kept down by the elastic band of your sweatpants that you tighten, and is covered by your shirt.

You get ready to knock.

...

What was that noise?

Was that a groan?

She *must* be sick and groaning in pain!

In the instant you realize this images of her curled up in the fetal position in the bed, clutching her stomach or her head flash through your thoughts and you move into action.

Quickly turning the knob and pushing open the door, thoughts of knocking gone from your mind you start speaking

And your voice immediately dies in your throat at the scene laid out before you