Send out the mom jeans

The outfit that was about to strip off John's pants let him go and took a step back, holding up a single leather finger to him as if they were telling him to wait a moment. The outfit retreated to the group of clothes, and the complete outfits huddled together, as if to debate or plan.

John watched as they seemed to pantomime some conversation. The pantsuit with the slacks that had just held the skeleton key moved their sleeves at the others. A billowy sleeved nightgown raised a sleeve to its invisible face and jiggled, as if laughing. John watched as the blouse and miniskirt outfit turned back, as if to glance at him. Other outfits in the group included tight grey workout leggings and a pink tie-back shirt, skinny jeans and a spaghetti strap top (with a strapless bra he could see under the thin shirt), and a little black dress.

After some time passed, the group separated a bit and let a single item emerge from behind them. A pair of loose, slightly puffy jeans stepped out of the group. They looked like the epitome of "mom jeans", at least until they strutted towards him in a teasing manner. With every step, the jeans inflated a little tighter, puffing out beyond their intended fit until they were filled by proportions well-exceeding John's mom.

"Wh-whoa..." John said, looking down at the over-inflated comfy jeans swaying in front of him. "Are they really mom's?"

As if to prove their point, the elastic threading the denim waistline contracted a bit. The jeans deflated slightly, walking a slow semi-circle in front of him and showing off how they'd look if she were wearing them. John seemed to understand, nodding at them.

"I guess I've seen you around, now that I think about it." He smiled a little again. "But do that stretchy thing again." The jeans reinflated, stretching to the fabric's limit again and pacing around John--bumping hips against him as he snickered.

Now the brown leather gloves took over where the red ones left off, drifting back to John's waistline. One of them grabbed his zipper and pulled it down while the other pulled his jeans down from the back.

John lifted his hands up, letting it happen. He was slightly chubbing under his black briefs, feeling the thump of his pulse as the anticipation built. He dutifully stepped out of his pants when they were at his ankles, and the brown gloves grabbed them from the floor and folded them up, placing them on the bed.

The overinflated pants crouched slightly in front of him, showing off a tight round denim butt. It wiggled back and forth, but the waistline was way too high for him to step into.

"If, uh--if you want me to get in there, you're gonna have to--hey!" Before John could even finish the sentence, the brown leather gloves lifted him beneath his arms from behind. The long satin opera gloves assisted with his weight, losing their joints as the still-inflated shafts coiled around his thighs like satiny pythons. He was nearly lifted high enough to touch the vaulted ceiling of the master bedroom when he was lowered back into the waiting jeans.

He looked down at himself as the gloves on his thighs slipped away. The leather gloves under his arms let go, and his weight landed against the inside of the hyperinflated jeans--which felt something like a saddle. They hovered off the ground enough that his toes didn't touch the ground when he was let go--but they slowly descended until he could stand on his own two feet again.

"Whoa," he said, trying to get a look at himself. He twisted his trunk to try and get a look at the inflated backside when the jeans suddenly moved all on their own. "Hey, wait--ooh!"

The jeans walked him over toward the bedroom door, standing him in front of a full-length mirror. One of the red satin gloves brought over a hand mirror from the vanity, and the jeans moved his legs for him, posing and showing off as the glove held the hand mirror just right for him to get a look at the full panel mirror on the door.

"That's...a pretty strange sensation," John said, gulping as his cock responded to being in the control of what amounted to a magic pair of pants. "Can I, um--can I touch them?" he asked. A red leather glove gave him a thumbs-up.

John bit his lip and ran his hands over the hyperinflated denim. Not only were they controlling his legs at the moment--but they had him sporting an exceptionally large booty. When he squeezed it, it had some tension--even though there was plenty of room between the fabric and his actual butt. The softness sprang back when he let go, and his dick pumped itself again.

He probably looked pretty funny, but some part of him--a critical part of him, at that--obviously liked the feeling.