Keep the act going. Make her admit that you’re bigger than dad.

“So?” you asked, “Is it… is it small?”

Your big hanging meat swings openly like a rowing oar in water. Of course, it’s so big your mom can barely speak.

“It’s… it’s not small, sweetheart.”

“Not small… so not a pindick like dad?”

“No,” she says, mesmerized by all the inches of cock in front of her face, “Nothing like your dad at all.”

This makes you grin.

“Jesus,” she says, visibly sweating down her cleavage as she examines your meaty prick, “I wonder if I’m seeing this.”

“Seeing things?”

“Son,” she says, looking away from your cock and meeting your gaze for the first time since you whipped your thing out, “You have the biggest cock I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

You have to resist bursting out laughing.

“I envy the lucky lady you pick to enjoy that monster. She’s in for the time of her life.”

Little did your mom realize that you were already stuffing many of the women around town with your cock. Still, you play along.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, “You think women will really like my penis?”

“Hunny,” she says, “That thing is like twelve inches of pink gold.”

“What was dad like?”

“Your father wasn’t large at all,” she says, “Nothing like you, at least. He was probably, I don’t know, three or four times smaller than you.”

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily. Your father was very good with his tongue.” She giggles remembering this. “But you won’t have to make up for anything with that thing. When the right woman sees that, she’ll know you’re in charge.”

God it was hot hearing that.