A Splendid Morning

John had wonderful dreams. They started with him dancing and playing with clothing with a life of its own, grinding against them, playing with them...it fused so well with what he experienced that when he woke up, he was surprised all over again. At least for a few seconds.

"H-holy shit!" He muttered, looking down at his own hard dick. He was naked in his bed, staring at his manhood. Rubbing against it--sandwiching him between them, actually--were two pairs of satin panties in red and black.

"Mmm, look who's awake," a voice originating from one of them said. "Did you want a little breakfast, honey?" He just blushed a little, nodding as he watched the two pairs of panties grind against his hardened cock.

"It...it was real. You're really alive," John said.

"After everything we talked about yesterday, did you think it was just a dream?" The voice seemed to be coming from the red pair, which rose off of his midsection and floated toward his face.

"It's, um...still just a little bit unbelieveable," John said, looking at them in wonder. Self-fitting clothing. Self-moving clothing. Clothing that talked to him. Clothing that explained how he could fuel them. "I'm, uh...glad I wasn't just dreaming, though."

He just watched the filled-out satin fabric as it hovered against his cheek, rubbing against his face. His eyes half-closed as he felt the caress of the satiny fabric. He reached out and stroked the backside of the satin form, squeezing its rear as it nuzzled up against his face now, giggling.

"Well, technically, you were dreaming when you came for us again," the panties said. John sighed, laughing a little too as he laid back, letting his head hit his pillow again.

"You...really use that for fuel?" He asked.

"The best fuel," the pair of black panties riding his cock responded. They slid their glossy crotch up and down John's shaft as he groaned. "We'd like to show you off to some of our friends, actually."

"Fuh-friends?" John asked. "You mean more of mom's clothes?"

"Not...exactly," The red panties replied. "She's got a good variety of our models, of course--but there are a couple of styles she hasn't really brought home to test," they whispered to him, "and we think you'd probably like them a whole lot."

"I mean...I've liked everything I've seen so far," John said, looking over at the red panties.

"Hmmm...you're a very sweet boy," the satin hips said, swirling around his shoulder and losing their shape as they slid between his neck and his pillow. "But so far, you've only seen an introduction." The panties reinflated behind him, propping him up to a seated position. "Now, let's get you some breakfast, shall we?"

"Sure," John said, laughing a little. The black panties deflated, curling around his cock and tugging on it.

"Wear me down there, Johnny," they said, squeezing him. He smiled as he pulled his legs out from under his covers and threw them over the side of his bed. "I don't want to let you go."

"Leave the poor boy alone," the red pair said, bouncing out from behind him again as some other things shuffled into the room. "We've got some soft pajamas for you, John--if you're interested."

John looked up to see a set of pink satin pajamas, billowing at the threshold of the room--fluttering as if a gentle breeze was moving over them.

"Sure," John said, smiling, "But, uh...I don't mind wearing you too," he said to the panties, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around his satin-swaddled cock. The panties sprung off of his member, pulling his fingers away as they darted down to his feet, pulling themselves over his toes.

"Aww, they got you all morning..." The pajama pants said, strutting toward John on the bed as the black satin panties worked their way up his legs. John swallowed as they walked over--their fluttering giving way to drum-tight inflation, showing off ballooning thighs and hips that tapered at the elastic waist. "We were hoping you'd go commando so we could have a chance to play with you."

"You can both share," The hovering red panties said, bobbing between the pajama pants and John as the pink satiny top fluttered over. "We're here to make our little boy happy." John blushed at that phrasing--a little embarrassed by the doting tone, but loving the attention at the same time.

"It must seem a little funny to you," The pink pajama top said, floating over the pants and right up to John's torso as he stood up. "Wearing clothes made for a woman...let alone your mom's." Two rounded lumps expressed themselves from the chest of the satin button down--the long sleeves rubbing their cuffs against John's shoulders.

John swallowed hard as the black panties situated themselves around his waist, gripping his cock again once they fitted themselves. The torso of the satin pajama top swished slowly back and forth, teasing against John's chest, rubbing his perking nipples.

"It d-did at first, for sh-sure..." John said, tripping over his words as he was teased, "But after seeing what you all could do, I was more curious than anything, and I think the conversation's a big help in getting a grip on exactly what your intentions are." John reached out and caressed the soft, glossy sides of the top--getting bolder about reaching out and touching the animated clothing.

"Mmm...so you like when momma talks to you, Johnny?" The top hovered a little higher, wrapping their sleeves around John's neck as they pressed their emulated breasts against his face, burying him between them. "Does it make you feel nice and safe?" He could feel himself blushing another shade.

"Umffff--somping like thaf," John said awkwardly, muffled by the satin. He was a little weirded out that they referred to themselves that way, but he wasn't about to make his complaints audible.

Based on the reaction of his other biology--they probably wouldn't take him at his word anyway. John sighed, melting in the arms--well, sleeves--of the satin pajama top as he was lifted off the ground by them and the panties. Instead of hovering, he was only lifted up for as long as it took for the pajama pants to slide up his legs, at which point he sank back into the plush carpet on the ground. The top pulled away from him and billowed outward, opening up its buttons. John held his arms out, loose--waiting for the top to dress him while he looked down at the pajama pants. They were inflated as if filled with a wind he couldn't feel, quivering with motion, teasing against the back of his legs now and then. They tickled him as the silky fabric rippled, and John's cock fought against the panties he was wearing to stand at attention.

"Do you like that, darling?" This time it was the pajama pants. At least he thought. The voices were sort of hard to discern, but for some reason he could get a feel for where they seemed to come from.

"I think I like pretty much everything about all of you," John said. "...I have no idea how I'm going to be able to hide all of this from Mom when she gets back." The pajama pantlegs shifted under him, and suddenly his legs were folded under him like he was sitting, and the pants pulled under him, lifting him into the air in a seated position as the top whisked behind his back, snagging one of his arms and running a silky sleeve up it.

"Just leave that to us," The pajama top said, "And keep your promise." John laughed a little.

"I don't mean that one of us is going to mess it up," he responded. "I guess I just mean I'm not going to look at any of her clothing the same way anymore, even if it's not one of you that's she's wearing," John said.

"Oh--she won't be wearing anything but one of us," The red panties bobbing in front of him said. "She's already seen to that."

"You mean everything in her closet — everything she owns is from the self-fitting clothing line?" John asked. The pink satin pajama top buttoned up on him, caressing his chest a little before inflating outward like the pants had. His body gently bobbed toward the doorway of his bedroom as the red panties led the way.

"Not…exactly," the panties said. "You see, we're made up of a special types of fabric that was treated before we were woven into our individual garments," they explained. "Your mother and two of her team members have been secretly working on a way to treat premade items."

John smiled, lifting his hands to the sides of the satin top and pressing against the ballooned fabric, feeling the soft surface of the inflated top. He was distracted as the chest began swelling, getting a little red-faced at the fact that these emulated forms appeared to be part of his body.

"What do you mean she's doing that in secret?" John asked. "Isn't it for the same company?" He watched in wonder as mimicked nipples poked from the chest of the pajama top. He gleefully held the bulging chest in front of him, playing with the protruding points and hearing the top react with a sigh.

"Not precisely," the panties said. "They're in the business of making clothes... And they don't necessarily want to make a way for other clothing to be like their special brand."

"Mmm...that's nice," The pajama top said. "Keep playing with my tits, Johnny." Johnny grinned, happy to oblige. Down below, he could feel the black panties playing with his ass and slowly stroking his hard cock.

"So she knows there's something special about this formula…more than the rest of the company knows, I guess." John pinched the satin nipples of the pajama top, and it strained on him — wiggling and inflating a little more as it continued its pleased noises. "But she really doesn't know you can talk or do things like this?" He asked.

As he and the clothing floated down the stairs, the red satin panties turned to him, floating up to his face even as they all proceeded.

"Aren't you the curious one?" The panties said, nuzzling their crotch against his face. John couldn't stop smiling. He was beginning to love the constantly sensual attitude of these clothes. He simply inhaled the scent of the fabric, and pursed his lips, kissing the satin.

"I can't help it! I never knew my mom worked on such amazing things. I mean, I knew she was a chemist and worked on formulas and stuff for clothes, but I always assumed it was just boring things like stain-resistant coatings." As the group drifted into the kitchen, John was greeted with a flurry of activity and the scents of breakfast.

"Well, good morning, cutie!" It was the cream colored satin blouse, still paired with the black leather skirt and sporting translucent tan pantyhose beneath them. They were wearing shiny black mules, and a white apron was tied around the whole of the outfit. But at the end of the sleeves — something different. They looked like...translucent shiny gloves?

"G-good morning," John replied. A pair of filled out jeans stood next to the outfit, a platter perched atop it, along the hem of the waist.

"How about some French toast this morning, hmm?" The outfit asked as John hovered down toward the table. Before he got into place, the red panties deflated, wrapping themselves around the back of a chair and pulling it well away from the table.

"That sounds...great! Thanks," He said. The cream blouse giggled after he responded, clearly pleased with its menu choice. John noticed that the panties had reinflated now, but the chair was still across the room, against one of the kitchen walls. "Am I — am I just going to hover here?" Something seemed to swell under his butt, and he looked down at the satin pajama pants to see what was going on. He only saw empty space between his rear and the floor.

It felt, though, like he was sitting on some sort of inflatable cushion. He wiggled his butt back and forth, and it seemed to shift under him a little.

"That's all me," said a voice coming from the pajama bottoms this time. You'd rather sit on my nice soft fabric than you would on a hard wooden chair, wouldn't you?" The invisible cushion seem to inflate and deflate a couple of times, gently bouncing him up and down little.

"Uh...uh-huh!" John managed, trying to square the floating feeling with what was actually happening. He imagined a section of the inflated pants at his rear concaving in on themselves, and making him a makeshift seat. He ran his fingers along the waist of the billowing pants on either side, finding a pronounced indentation on both sides of the rear of the hips. What he pictured was exactly what was happening.

"Wiggle all you want, honey," the pajama bottoms said, "I don't mind feeling that cute little butt moving against me." John's eyes bulged as the inflated inversion of the seat seemed to grip him. His cock hardened at the stimulation and the sound of the flirtatious voice.

"And if you want to fire again, don't worry," said the muffled voice of the black panties, "we'll catch everything. And I promise I'll share with the pants."

"Girls, girls, girls…" The outfit standing at the stove said, turning with a spatula as it placed a final piece of bread on the platter held by the jeans. "Our growing boy needs a hot meal first. Then we can have ours. Right, Johnny?" He swallowed hard, looking up at the approaching outfit as the jeans walked over, balancing the platter on the hem of their waist.

"Y--yes ma'am," John said as the hollow outfit began scooping food onto the spatula from the platter and placing it on his plate. It was french toast, all right. Made as well as his actual mother did, from the looks of it--though it had been a while since the last time he had it. As it finished, it took the empty platter from the jeans, returning to the sink with them.

The jeans remained, posing in place while John stared. They did a half-turn, showing off bulging thighs and an ass that seemed much tighter than when they were worn. They were cut like high-waisted mom jeans, but the intangible **** filling the self-fitting clothing modeled them more like a fashionista's tight-fitting denim. John was practically drooling watching them pose.

"Johnny, eat while it's warm!" The blouse said, returning to the table. It bent over and grabbed the syrup with its translucent glove at the end of its sleeve, opening it and dousing the toast. John marveled at the see-through glove, curious about it. It was latex, or PVC, or something--but that wasn't really fabric, was it?

"Th-thanks! It looks great," John finally replied, distracted by all the stimulation and the questions running through his mind.

"Maybe you'd like momma to feed you?" The blouse said, closing up the syrup and leaning in toward John, offering up a gloved finger to John's face. There was a bit of syrup on it--and John's heart pounded, knowing what was being suggested here. He looked down into the blouse, where the cleavage would be if there were a visible woman inside--gawking at the straps of the filled-out bra beneath it. He parted his lips and took the rubbery finger in his mouth, gently tonguing the ghostly digit and sucking off the sweet maple as he stared at the inside of the blouse. "Mmm...Johnny. I take that as a yes?"