You give your mother more suggestions

You open the door almost immediately to find your mother standing in the hallway wearing nothing but a thin blue silk nightie.

The nightie does little to hide her assets and you find yourself staring at her massive tits. Her nipples are readily visible through the thin material.

Then you realize that your mother is only going to be hypnotized for around five minutes and you invite her into your room and close the door.

Your mother stands still. She blinks occasionally, but otherwise there’s no sign that she’s reacting to the world around her.

“So… you’re hypnotized,” you say.

“I’m hypnotized,” your mother acknowledges.

Your cock hardens. You bite your lip, excited by the sick wrongness of you having power over the woman who gave birth to you.

“Have you ever given a blowjob before?” you ask.

She nods her head.

“Would you give me a blowjob?”

Your mother blinks.

“No… you’re my son,” she says.

“But I make you comfortable,” you say.

“You make me comfortable,” she replies.

“I make you more comfortable than anyone else ever has,”

“More comfortable than anyone else… no,” she says.

“You sat with me at the dinner table,” you say.

She nods her head.

“That must mean you’re more comfortable around me than anyone else,” you say, smirking as she assimilates what you’ve told her.

“More comfortable…” she mumbles.

“How would you feel if I touched you?" You ask.

Your mother bites her lip. Her gorgeous blue eyes seem to warm somewhat, but that might just be your imagination.

"Comfortable," she says.

You reach out a hand to touch her shoulder. Your mother hums contentedly and leans into the touch.

"How would you feel if I touched your breasts?" You say.

"Touched my breasts... weird," she says.

"But you feel comfortable when I touch you."

"I feel comfortable when you touch me," she mumbles. You move our hand so it touches the bare skin above your mother's big tits.

"So why wouldn't you feel comfortable about me touching your breasts?" You say.

She's silent for a few moments. Your hand creeps lower. A finger brushes the top of your mother's right tit.

"You're my son," she says.

"But isn't that what a mother's breasts are for?"

She doesn't answer, so you take a moment to rephrase what you've said.

"A mother's breasts exist to serve her son. That's why Tiffany dropped everything to go feed Ronnie."

Linda moans.

"Why do a mother's breasts exist, Mom?"

"To..." she pauses to swallow noisily. "To serve her son."

Holy fuck.

"W-why do your breasts exist, Mom?"

She bites her lip again.

"To serve my son."

Your cock twitches.

"Your breasts exist to serve your son whenever he needs or wants them, right?"

Your mother nods.

"It doesn't matter what you might be doing. If your son needs you, you'll tend to his needs, right?" you say.

She nods again.

"What would you do if I said I wanted to touch your breasts, Mom?"

The MILF who was so often the talk of the neighborhood boys licks her lips.

"I'd let you," she says.

"Can I touch your breasts while we talk?"

She nods her head.

You bite your lip. Your heart thuds within your chest as you tentatively reach a hand out and poke her right breast with your index finger. You feel her soft flesh that lies beneath her nightie as your finger sinks into her matronly bosom without resistance.

"What am I doing, Mom?"

She blinks.

"You're touching my boob," she says.

You draw a shuddering breath as you grab her breast with the entirety of both your hands this time. You squeeze and pinch your mother's boobs.

"Uh," your mother moans sedately as your grope her.

"Your son is touching your breasts, Mom."

"My son is touching my breasts," she repeats.

You pinch her nipples. She doesn't wake up.

"You get turned on when your son touches your breasts," you say.

She licks her lips with that sexy tongue of hers. You can't wait to feel what it's like having that tongue trail along the underside of your cock.

"No..." she whispers.

"It turns you on when I touch your breasts."

"Oh..." she moans again.

You slip your hands down the neck of her nightie and free her breasts from the confines of the thin fabric. You take a moment to appreciate the sight of her huge naked breasts before you touch them once again, marveling at the softness of her skin. The knowledge of the fact that your mother would never have allowed this of her own free will excites you and makes you feel powerful. You suppose this was one of the reasons you'd chosen mothers to the be the subject of hypnofetishistic fantasies. Mothers are usually authority figures and this one has dominated the course of your life. Now, you get to turn that authority over on its head.

"You want me to touch your breasts," you say.

"I want you to touch my breasts," she answers without a hint of hesitation.

You her nipples a sharp tweak. She moans whorishly.

"You get turned on when I touch your breasts."

"I get turned on when you touch my breasts," your mother says.

Another idea occurs to you.

"If you want me to touch your breasts more often, you need to spend more time with me, right?"

She nods her head.

"You want to spend more time alone with me," you say.

"I want to spend more time alone with you."

"You need to spend more time with me."

"I need to spend more time with you."

You smile and glance back at your clock. 3:31 am. Mom should be coming out of her trance at any moment now. You wonder if there's a way to prolong her trances, or trigger them, but you're almost out of time. Grimacing, you decide to put those thoughts aside, at least for now.

"Hey Mom, when you wake up from this trance, you'll think you came into my room because you felt uncomfortable sleeping without me. You'll do whatever it takes to convince me to let you sleep with me in my bed. Do you understand?"

Linda nods her head submissively. The movement causes her breasts to jiggle.

Your mother blinks a moment later, life returning to her blue eyes that shine brightly even in the darkness of your room.

"Oh... hey sweetie," she smiles warmly at you, but it's strained. There's a hint of nervousness behind it, as if she's worried about how you'll react to her presence.

Your mother wrings her hands together as you stare at her.

"I'm sorry for barging into your room so early in the morning, but I was wondering if..."

She pauses and bites her lip. She doesn't want to say it, even if she wants it.

You place your hands on her shoulders and begin to rub. She lets out a soft moan, but composes herself quickly. She can't stop her cheeks from flushing with embarrassment, though.

"What, Mom?" You ask softly. Your hands drift a little lower to tease at the upper part of her breasts.

She licks her lips and moans again.

"I... I was wondering, oh..." she looks up at you through half-lidded eyes as your hands ghost over her large breasts, massaging them gently. "Um, can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

It takes every ounce of your fading willpower to stop from cackling like a madman.

You adopt a surprised look that isn't entirely fake.

"Yeah, sure," you tweak her nipples, causing her to gasp. "I guess I can go downstairs and sleep on the co-"

"No!" She interrupts you loudly seemingly forgetting that everyone else in the house is asleep.

You put a hand to her lips and shush her. She nods, message received.

"I want to sleep with you, baby," she says. Her eyes stare into yours, filled with genuine warmth. You can't remember the last time she looked at you with an emotion other than resigned disappointment before you'd started messing with her hypnotized mind.

Your cock jumps to full mast in your boxers.

"I-I don't know," you stammer, suddenly faced with the very real prospect of sharing a bed with your voluptuous, mature mother.

Her expression becomes a little more ****. She closes the minimal distance between the two of you and presses her barely clothed breasts up against your bare chest. Her soft pillowy flesh squishes up against you. You feel her nipples through her thin nightie, hard as diamonds. Your hard clothed cock presses up against her abdomen, but if she feels it she doesn’t say anything.

"Please," she whispers. "You make me feel comfortable, John. So much more comfortable than your father. I... I need this. Please, I need to be with you.”

You smirk at her naked desperation for your affection. Just a few hours earlier and she’d been as stern and unyielding towards you as always. You really dig the change.

She seemingly takes your smile as acceptance and leans in close to give you a long kiss on the cheek. Her lush lips feel soft against your skin and you wish you’d been more pushy when you talked to her about blowjobs.

“Thank you,” she whispers into your ear. She kisses you again.

You swallow audibly and manage to start speaking over the cacophony of your racing heart.

“Before we do this, there have to be a few ground rules,” you say.

Your mother nods readily. “Of course, honey. Name them.”

You pause. How far would she let you go? You did tell her under hypnosis to do whatever it took to convince you to let her sleep with you.

“First, you need to wake up and sneak back into bed with Dad before he realizes where you’ve been all night. Or maybe you could go downstairs and make breakfast or something.”

“I could make breakfast for you,” she offers eagerly. “I could bring it up to your room. That way we’ll get to spend much more time together.”

You blink.

“Okay, that actually sounds awesome.”

“Splendid!” she replies cheerfully, though her voice only raises in pitch a tiny bit. “Are there any other rules you want me to abide by?”

So, so many. Where do you begin?

“Yeah. I like the nightie, but I’d rather you sleep naked.”

“N-naked?” your mother’s eyes widen. She looks down at her outfit that barely hides her curves as it is. “But…”

“Alright, see you tomorrow then,” you gesture to your door.

“Okay, fine!” she glares at you angrily, but she makes no move to leave. “I’ll get naked. I mean, I know you won't look at me sexually, but it's the principle of the matter.”

She reaches for her waist and undoes the strap of her nightie. It opens slowly, exposing her toned midriff. Soon enough, her hands pull the nightie apart. It falls to the floor.

Your mother’s big, glorious tits are revealed to you once again, but that’s not all. You lick your lips as you trail your eyes down Mom’s naked body. You catch a glimpse of her shaved pussy between her thick thighs.

“Anything else?” your mother asks, far less polite than before. But the fact that she’s still asking for you to list all your “ground rules” convinces you that you haven’t pushed her too far.

“I’m so glad you asked, Mom,” you say. “The entire time we’re sleeping together, I want to be able to touch you whenever and wherever I want. Especially your tits. I want to play with them and suckle them while we lie together.”

Your busty mother bites her lip.

“O-okay,” she says. She places her hands on her big breasts and mashes them together. “Mommy’s tits exist to serve you, John.”

“I know,” you reach a hand out to tweak one of her nipples again. She moans and smiles at you. You gesture to your bed. “Shall we?”

A few minutes later and you’re burying your face between your MILF mother’s massive breasts. Her soft, warm titflesh is so comforting.

Linda Doe runs a delicate hand through your hair.

“That’s it, baby. Play with your mother’s breasts. They’re all yours.”

You disengage yourself from her breasts to look up at her.

“All mine?” you ask, running a hand from the side of her hip all of the way up to squeeze her right breast.

“All yours,” she promises and kisses you on the head.

“What about Dad? Aren’t they his, too?” you move your hand down her body again to cup her shapely rear. She grimaces and you make a note to remind yourself to have your mother be more accommodating about her ass in the future. She doesn’t try to stop you when you squeeze her juicy bubble butt.

You give one of her hard nipples a lick.

She smiles at you again.

“You’re my son. My breasts exist to serve you and you alone,” she says. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing. If you want my breasts, you get to have them. No exceptions.”

“So if I want to use your breasts as a pillow when I sleep, I can do that?”

Your mother shifts in your bed so that she’s lying on her back. She reaches for your head and gently maneuvers you so that you’re resting safe and sound between her large mounds.

“How’s that, baby?” she kisses the top of your head again.

You don’t answer. Instead you close your eyes. You listen to rhythm of your mother’s heart as it lulls your tired mind to sleep.