You talk to Randall about how you've been feeling

At first you tried to bury your head in the sand and pretend it wasn't true, telling yourself that it wasn't true. It's just seeing her tits that's making me feel this way, that's all. There was really nothing more to it than that. Unfortunately you could only fool yourself for so long, finding it harder and harder to come up with excuses as the days gradually past...

You soon found yourself distracted not only at home, around Randall, but also at school too - your thoughts constantly wandering in class. You also began masturbating a lot more, sneaking up to your room at every opportune moment to crack one out, usually after sneaking a glance at Randall's cleavage or ass. It was just too big a temptation not to give into, what with Randall being around you so much of the time. You had the object of your twisted lust parading around your very home, sitting next to you on the sofa, coming into your bedroom at night, and just generally being there. How could you possibly not?

The day when he returned home from the gym was the worst (or possibly best), what with Randall wandering in through the door still in your mother's workout gear, completely doused in sweat. The tight pink and black spandex clung every single curve, showcasing her giant boobs, big ass, and fairly trim stomach (given her age), as well as showing off the obvious indent of her large prominent nipples. Randall looked absolutely incredible in that outfit and you pretty much sprung a boner right there and then, while he stood there, casually explaining how Rebecca had to suddenly rush off and he hadn't had a chance to shower. As soon as he'd gone to do just that minute later, you rushed up the stairs and began furiously jerking off, picturing him inside the shower, soaping up your mother's curvy body and possibly even rubbing one out. Thinking about this, about how he'd told you he masturbated as your mother, actually made you feel slightly jealous. He had access to breasts and a vagina whenever he wanted. He could actually do and see all the things you could only fantasize about, and you couldn't say anything. It was infuriating, and you never imagined you'd ever end up feeling envious of Randall's position. But you did...

And so this continued for nearly two weeks, with you pretending like everything was normal between you two, all the while continuing to secretly lust after his body more and more, unable to control yourself.

One evening however, it eventually came to a head, the feelings of frustration, self loathing and guilt becoming just too much to bare.

"I can't keep fucking doing this!" you cried, banging your fist down on your desk while in the middle of jerking off. I'm going insane here! This was true, you really were beginning to feel on edge, having never been in a situation quite like this one. Sure you'd had crushed on girls before and felt a longing for them that you knew would never be quenched. But they hadn't been your mom, nor your best friend, and you weren't stuck in a house with them, being tormented every single day.

Since his little 'show', Randall had made no mention of it what so ever, as well as toning down any and all references to breasts, butts, or anything else sex related concerning either himself or your Auntie Rebecca. He had however begun to get a little more adventurous when selecting what to wear out of your mother's closet. Although he still hadn't gone full dress mode since that night out to the cinema, he had started to wear the odd skirt every now and then, telling you that he was "running out of jeans", as well as tops and blouses that were much more form fitting and low cut, displaying a good amount of cleavage. This of course drew even more attention to his chest, as well as his legs, which you were beginning to appreciate also. Long, toned and smooth - your mother's frequent trips to the gym having obviously payed off. While you realized this wasn't intentional (Randall presumably trying to fit in a little better with his new 'friends'), you really did feel like you were being teased, and you just couldn't take it!

I've got to talk to him. you decided, pulling your jeans and boxers back up and rising from your seat. I've got to talk to someone before I go mad! Maybe we'll be able to... I dunno, work something out... In all honesty you had no idea what was going to happen. You just knew if you bottled all this up any longer you'd go mad. Besides, Randall would understand. He was the one who flashed you in the first place. The one who was always going on about how hot your mom was... and still is.

"Randall?" you called out, after a few minutes of searching. Finding him in neither the living room, nor the kitchen.

"Yo!" he shouted back, his voice coming from your mother's bedroom.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" you asked from the other side of the door, after trundling back up the stairs to find him. Beckoning you in, you pushed it open and went inside, discovering him sprawled out on the bed with your mom's old laptop.

"I was just checking out some shit on YouTube," he informed you, looking up from the screen, "You seen that water-skiing monkey yet?"

"No. Can't say I have." you told him, shaking your head as you rather nervously hung by the door. Your eyes of course, quickly appraised his body, Randall clad now in a pink v neck sweater and beige Capri pants, with his dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

After showing you the moderately amusing clip, Randall chuckled slightly as he closed the laptop and asked, "So what's up?", looking completely oblivious as to what you were about to tell him.

Okay. Here goes nothing... you thought, psyching yourself up. "I'm not... I'm not entirely sure how to say this..." you told him, struggling slightly with your words, "...but here goes I guess. About what happened a couple of weeks back, in my room..."

"I, uh... I thought we were like pretending that didn't happen."

"That's the thing, dude. I'm trying. But I... well, I just can't. And it's driving me pretty nuts!"

"What do you mean?"

Shit. Do I really have to spell it out? You'd hoped this would be enough for him to catch on, but by the confused look currently on his face, you could tell it really wasn't. "After it... you know, happened," you began, trying not to look directly at him as you did, "I've kinda been having a hard time thinking about anything else. I mean, I know it's pretty fucked up and that's my mom's body your in and all, and I really shouldn't be thinking like this... but fuck, dude, it was really hot!" You were practically trembling as you said this, but had come too far to stop now. Lifting your gaze again and forcing yourself to look at him, you continued. "You were always joking about how hot my mom is and stuff and how great her rack was, but I guess I never really noticed until that night. Those tits are fucking huge! And watching you... you know, suck on them... it was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life!"

Taking a moment to take all this info in, Randall could only look a little shocked as he replied, "Whoa. Really?"

"Yes. It's pretty fucked up right?"

While you weren't entirely sure what Randall's response to this would be (having never really covered this particular subject in any one of your frequent discussions about sex and girls), you had hoped he would have landed on one side of the fence or the other, instead of where he did.

"Well, yes and no." he told you, sitting up and swinging his legs over towards the edge of the bed, giving you a much clearer view of your mother's mountainous curves. "Your mom's body is super hot. And these things are totally awesome," he agreed, cupping each large mound to illustrate his point (causing an inadvertent little twitch somewhere inside your pants), "I don't think there is anyone that could look at these and not be blown away... But then again, you're right. They are your mom's. I guess that is kind of weird."

"I know. I feel like such a fucking perv." you whimpered, hanging your head in shame.

Your friend however, quickly changed his tune, telling you then, "No. No, don't! It's not your fault, dude. I'm the one who got them out. I'm the one who let you watch me suck on em. ...I guess after I got over the initial weirdness of suddenly being a chick, I really started digging the benefits. Remember, I was in exactly the same boat as you before this happened. I was useless with girls. Way worse even than you!" This was true, Randall had always been kind of awkward and gangly, and not really the type of guy girls were interested in. "But now I am one." he continued, your mother's face forming a smirk as he gestured downwards, "I've got all the necessary equipment at hand to use whenever I want, where ever I want. That night when I saw you jerking off, I dunno, I guess I wanted to share my new found wealth with my buddy. I wasn't really thinking about how messed up it would be..."

In some ways, this was a weight off your mind. You were glad that he wasn't judging you, and in some way seemed to understand. This however didn't solve the problem, or make you feel any less disgusted with yourself than you already were.

"So what do we do?" you asked him, hoping he might have some sort of solution. "I've been feeling like shit these last couple of weeks. I can't concentrate at school. Regular porn doesn't seem quite the same anymore. Plus, I can't stop staring at you!"