Vapid machinations.

"Mom, I want you to make me some peanut M&M's."

Mom nods, and turns. The sight of her heart-shaped pubic hair visible through the hole I formed in her panties flicks away from view, but I got my front row seat's worth. Bending her plump ass over, she then begins to silently hitch her breath as out of her anal chute peeks a small, colored sphere. And then another -- and so on, so forth. I have the arc of M&M's land neatly on the table before me, none of them falling off or shooting out at any undesired angle, then turn to Jessica.

"Jessica, the Constitution of the United States of America, please."

The blonde stares at me, as if that is to mean anything.

A few moments later, butt facing me, after a visible depression on her diaphragm, Jessica holds a steady grunt. Her rectum began slowly expelling the tip of a roll of paper. I grasp the end and pull it out of her anus, setting it on the table just as Mom's butt finished spewing out the chocolate bites in perfect sync.

"Thanks, you two. You can stand normally now," I grant.

"Finally," Jessica mumbles while I slide a finger down the face of the political declaration before me. Amazing. It looks legitimate.

As Mother pulls her skirt back up, I lift my hand. Then I slap her now properly covered crotch. Despite the (relatively) innocuous act, her eyes pop open and jaw drops as she begins to shake violently.

"OOOHHHhhhohohhohoh..hohohoh!!"

Brows converged, Jessica looks her mother up and down with tilted concern. "Mom, are you--"

Before she finishes, I reach over to slap Jessica's pussy lips as well, and her eyelids instantly flutter.

"--okAAYYYKRGHHHhohohohohohahohohhaagghh..hahaHRGHgh!!"

I sit back, watching as the two ladies have the most painstakingly brutal orgasm they have ever experienced, and probably few humans can naturally reach without some kind of technical apparatus. Frankly, it looks more like they were just tazed from behind. Or severely constipated. Or in the process of enduring both. The way they were shaking in place, bodies stiff, arms barely able to move, only made the foam at their mouths and crossed eyes up top even more uncanny. I fail to hold my laughter in, even with the somewhat unsettling picture before me.

This continues for nearly two minutes before I elect to put a stop to it.

"Okay," I wave my hand, sending a sudden invisible cloud over them. "Okay. That's good, that's good."

Instantly, the two women relax -- and crumple to the floor.

At least, my mother does, being unable to even react coherently, her eyes wide, as if she had just woken up in mid-air while drunk. Meanwhile, Jessica collapsed right across the table, saliva forming rivers down her chin as she attempts to slurp it all back up, her naked figure in a laughable, yet somehow effectively tantalizing position as her legs were decommissioned underneath her, causing her caboose to be prominently thrust backward.

"Yeesh." Rubbing my chin at the two panting, dazed, eye-drifting, drooling young women sprawled before me (my mother still trying to stand up to her feet, and now failing, as her wobbly legs betray her and cause her to go stumbling into the cabinet and land back across the tiled floor, which slightly dishevels her previously pristine business casual two-piece unit), I stand up and over them to open the fridge. Pulling out a gallon of milk, I begin twisting open the lid. "Mighta overdone that," I lift it to my lips, and drink.