Home again

The front door to your house opens almost immediately after you knock on it.

“Hey!”

Your mother stands in the doorway. She’d ditched the long-sleeved sweater she’d worn earlier for a dark green tank top that shows a large amount of her pale skin. The low neckline affords you a good look at the tops of her huge soft breasts. A pair of beige shorts cling to her thick thighs, stopping well-above her knees, showing off her toned legs. For a woman notorious for favoring more conservative outfits, this is certainly not what you were expecting her to be wearing. While it’s true she’d worn her somewhat risqué workout clothes for you earlier, that had been a rare exception borne out of necessity. She’s never really made an effort to show off her body that you can remember. At least not like this. Before you’d started manipulating her mind while she was in a trance, the most skin she’d ever shown in public had been the one-piece bathing suits she wore when you went to the beach or your aunt’s lake house.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, the woman who’d given birth to you smiles, showing her immaculate white teeth. None of the earlier angst or worry she’d expressed earlier is visible on her face. Instead she seems oddly cheery. If you didn't know any better you'd say she's pleased to see you. You’re not sure what might explain her sudden change in attitude from when she’d run away from you in the basement. You’d expected her to put some distance between the two of you, perhaps acting more coldly towards you than she normally does. Then she’d called you at Angela’s and practically demanded that you go see her. The entire time since that call you’ve been trying to parse out what could explain your mother’s sudden change in attitude and come up with nothing substantial. Your best working theory is that one of your earlier commands, like the one forcing her to feel comfortable around you, has made it difficult for her to separate herself from you in a way that she would have wanted.

You’re reminded somewhat of Angela’s change in attitude towards you. She was supposed to have stayed almost exactly the way she was before, save the fact that she now relied on you to satiate her exhibitionist needs. Yet despite her insistence that she’d never betray her husband and your efforts to stop her from perceiving your actions in a sexual way, she’d been undeniably enthusiastic while the two of you had fucked. It hadn’t been just you touching her; she’d responded, reciprocating in her own way the way your other women had.

You’d made quite a mess of poor Angela's kitchen, with more than one spot on her counter covered in semen, sweat, or saliva. She hadn’t demanded that you help her clean. Instead, she’d insisted that you finish the sandwich she’d made for you. So, you were treated to the sight of a naked, busty Angela cleaning the kitchen while positively glowing from what you’d done. She wasn’t supposed to see anything the two of you did together as sexual, but something had undeniably changed between the two of you. It’s not like your relationship has gotten deeper; the two of you were close to the point where you almost considered her family. You have an undeniable feeling that the nature of your relationship has shifted. That her affection for you has stayed the same, but the way she sees you has undergone a fundamental change.

She’d been **** to say goodbye, but a few more promises to go back and visit her soon had mollified her. She’d given you a quick peck on the lips before sending you on your way.

“Honey, are you okay? Are you tired from your walk?”

The warmth in her tone grinds your thoughts to a halt, like a car engine catching fire on the highway. You don’t know how to respond to her. She’s never this affectionate with you. Do you answer in kind, pretending like the last decade or so of neglect didn’t happen? Or do you....

“Huh?” is your intelligent response.

You give your mother a once-over. There’s an unfamiliar tinge of worry in her voice. Her blue eyes are watching you with naked concern. They stare into yours, as if searching for something, and also radiating an even stranger warmth.

Your eyes are drawn inevitably downward towards her massive breasts, and the large amount of cleavage she’s showing off only makes it easier to give into the temptation. You nearly gape when you glimpse her nipples poking through the material of her blouse. She hadn’t even bothered to wear a bra!

You subconsciously lick your lips as your penis hardens with arousal. If you weren’t within view of anyone looking into your front yard, you’d have grabbed a handful of each of her tits, confident in the knowledge that she fully believes that her breasts belong to you.

“I asked if you were okay. You really shouldn’t push yourself if you don’t think you can handle it, especially after we did our little… exercise,” your mother says chidingly, her lips curling sexily. Her hand touches your chest. “You need to learn to pace yourself. It’s not healthy to blow all your energy at once.”

“Oh, um, I’m not actually tired. I was just… thinking about something. I’m fine, honestly. I was just distracted,” you mutter, your throat almost painfully dry. God, why are you so nervous all of a sudden?

“Well, that’s fine,” she smiles fully now, somehow making herself look even more beautiful. There’s a glint of something in her eyes, and a pleased twitch of her lips that makes you feel like you have butterflies fluttering in your chest. “Why don’t you come inside? We still have time before you have to make your way over to your friend’s house.”

You nod hesitantly and step into the entryway, shutting the front door behind you.

“You wanted to have that talk, right? Is it about what happened before when we-”

“Not here,” she cuts you off, shaking her head. She glances back before looking at you again. “Your sister’s in the kitchen. I think we’d both rather she never finds out what happened between us.”

“Got it. Makes sense. So where do you want to go then? Is Dad still watching TV?”

Your mother furrows her brow in disgust.

“Of course he is. It’s not like he does anything else around the house,” she says with a huff. She crosses her arms beneath her breasts, and they wobble slightly. “I was thinking we’d go up to your room, if that’s okay. We can lock the door so we won’t be disturbed.”

“That sounds great, but won’t Tiff and Dad think it’s weird if they know we were spending time there together? It’s not like the two of us are known for being close, you know?”

Mom averts your gaze. She chews her lower lip.

“I know. I’ve been-”

“Oh look who’s finally back!”

You see a flash of crimson hair from behind your mother.

Tiffany practically shoves herself past Mom, forcing her aside. You barely resist gaping as two sets of large breasts are sent jiggling with the collision.

“So where’d you run off to, idiot?”

Your mother shoots your sister an irritated look, but Tiffany seems to neither notice nor care. She’s wearing a tight-fitting blouse similar to the one she’d had on earlier, and you can’t help but sneak a glance at her milky breasts. God, you wish you’d programmed the two of them to be okay with you fondling them in the presence of the other. As it stands, if you did anything like that now, chances are one or both of them would get fairly upset with you. You make a mental note to change that the next time each of them is in a trance.

“Tiffany, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk about your brother that way?” your mother says, azure eyes narrowed into angry slits. Her arms are crossed tightly beneath her breasts, making them look impossibly larger and causing her milky white titflesh to pool into the generous low neck of her top.

You only barely manage to not stare.

Schooling your features, you can’t help but silently remark on how strange these new circumstances are. Mom’s never actually defended you to Tiffany before that you can remember. It actually feels good, having someone, anyone, defend you for once.

Your older sister snorts.

“Oh please. I didn’t actually mean anything by it. That’s just how siblings talk. Right?” Tiffany glances in your direction, her emerald eyes glimmering amusedly. She’s obviously expecting you to agree with her, and normally you would, but your mother’s defense of you has made you more curious. You want to see what happens when you **** your mother to take a side between the two of you.

“I… I don’t know. I mean, I know you don’t mean anything by it usually, but you call me things like that sometimes it really hurts my feelings. If you’re going to act like that I think I might need to go for another walk.”

Your mother tenses visibly. She subtly moves closer to you. After a few moments, her soft, curvaceous body is pressed against your side.

“N-no!” she blurts out, and whispers something else under breath that you can’t discern. She glares at your sister, her eyes blazing with a fury that surprises you. “Tiffany, apologize to him right now!”

Your sister’s mouth opens and shuts multiple times, like a fish. Her eyes are wide, glancing between the two of you.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Either say you’re sorry or go to your room for the rest of the day,” Mom bites out coldly, her glare intensifying further.

Sheesh, all this because Tiffany called you an idiot? What’s gotten into Mom?

Tiffany recoils as if slapped. She gapes at your mother, clear shock written all over her face, and you feel a flash of sympathy for her. She recovers quickly, though her voice is somewhat shaky.

“Uh, Mom, I’m an adult. You can’t just ground me like I’m fifteen!”

A ghost of a smile comes over your mother’s face. She shifts against you, mashing her soft left breast against your arm.

“You live in my house, you follow my rules. And I will not tolerate you belittling your brother. Do you understand?”

“But, I-” she averts her gaze when Mom actually grinds her teeth. “Fine. I get it. No more saying mean things about John. It’s like he doesn’t say the same shit back to me…”

“What was that last part?” your mother asks, the tone of her voice daring her to continue.

Wow, is this what it looks like when Mom acts bitchy with you?

Tiffany shakes her head.

“Nothing,” she glances at Mom, doing her best to look effectively cowed, but then her eyes flick over to you. They shimmer slightly with hurt, and you immediately feel bad, like you’ve betrayed her. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Good. Now apologize to your brother,” Mom orders.

Tiffany lets out a long sigh.

“Okay. I’m sorry,” she says flatly, meeting your gaze. It’s the first time you can remember that one of your parents took your side over hers. It must be a novel experience for her. It certainly is for you. And while even a week ago a moment like this would have made you feel incredible, now it just feels like a hollow victory. Like something you haven’t truly earned.

“It’s okay, Tiff. I forgive you,” you approach her and put your arms out. “Hug?”

Your sister rolls her eyes at you. She tries to continue looking upset, but the upward twitch of her lips tells you it’s a losing battle. Warmth fills your chest.

“Dork,” she mutters. It would have been unacceptable to allow your betrayal to go unpunished. She quickly embraces you. Her huge, milky tits are soon squished against your chest. She hums, satisfied with your closeness and you can’t help but feel the same way. She’s warm. Warm and soft, the way a woman should be.

You inhale her scent. She smells nice, the fresh smell of shampoo in her hair. She must have showered at some point after you left her room. She nuzzles her face against yours, sighing contentedly.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into her ear, quietly enough that you’re pretty sure your mother doesn’t hear.

Tiffany tightens her grip around your back. Her head finds its way to the crook of your neck. She sniffs deeply.

“Ugh. You stink,” she grumbles. A soft chuckle escapes her lips. “And you’re so fucking sweaty and gross. You should take a shower. Like right now.”

“Yeah, you think so? Well, you must really like how I smell because I don’t see you breaking the hug,” your hands rove down her back, coming to a rest over her shorts-clad bubble butt. You give her ass a gentle squeeze.

A shiver passes through her, and she lets out a soft whine.

“You would think that, you pervert,” she makes no move to put any distance between the two of you.

“A-hem.”

You glance back at your mother. There’s a conflicted look on her face. Her foot taps the floor impatiently. Better separate from Tiffany before she starts clueing on to what your relationship is really like now.

Giving your sister’s amazing ass one last squeeze, you attempt to separate yourself from her. It’s much more difficult than you anticipated, her arms incredibly **** to let you go. She does eventually, and the pleasant feeling of her huge breasts squished against your chest goes away.

Her gorgeous green eyes gaze into yours, and you get the feeling that there’s a lot she wants to say, but a moment of decision seems to come over her and she looks away.

“So.” You say, trying to break the sudden awkward silence.

“So,” Tiffany repeats. She leans forward slightly, drawing your gaze to her generous cleavage.

Your mother’s nose twitches.

“I think your sister’s right. You should probably go take a shower. We can have our little discussion after you’re done.”

Tiffany raises her eyebrows, and you immediately know she wants to ask about that. She keeps her mouth shut, however.

Smart. Getting Mom irritated at you is never a good move, and not minding your own business was a surefire way to do that.

You smirk. Or maybe Tiffany’s just decided she’d rather you shower as soon as possible than satiate her curiosity immediately.

“Fine. But I don’t want to hear from either of you that I don’t know how to read a room,” you turn away from the two women and begin making your way upstairs, the wooden steps creaking slightly under your feet.

All the while, you feel two sets of longing eyes on your back.

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