You try your best to forget about it all, but find it too hard

You went to bed pretty early, but found yourself unable to sleep. The image of your mother sucking on those huge, succulent looking teats replaying over and over in your head, keeping you awake. You tried to image it was someone, anyone else as you lay there, physically fighting the urge to masturbate. It was nigh on impossible though. Her breasts having been seared firmly now into your brain. Eventually, you did manage to drift off, after what seemed like hours, but your dreams it seemed were similarly effected...

You awoke the following morning with a jolt, a fading memory of your mom, naked and gyrating on a stage still prevalent in your mind. Fuck me!

Even though it was just a dream, you felt incredibly guilty for thinking of her that way, as though she was some sort of cheap whore who took her clothes off for money. She was gone. Dead. Had been for almost two months now, and here you were having sexy dreams about her. Degrading her memory. What kind of creep did that make you?

So much for everything being fine by tomorrow, you said to yourself as you pulled yourself out of bed and trundled off towards the bathroom. The day having not gotten off to the best of starts.

You were doubly glad however that Randall wasn't usually up at this time, not wanting to have to face him yet. Especially not after that! Though he had taken on a little more responsibility with chores around the house, not having to go to school was too big a novelty for him to get up when you did (unless of course Rebecca or someone like that had arranged to pop round early).

As with most mornings then, you managed to escape the house unseen, hoping that school might prove more of a distraction than sleep had. Thankfully for the most part this proved to be true, the tedium of class work keeping your mind occupied for most of the day. It was only on the odd occasion that you found it start to wander. Such as when you were checking out Miss. Card's tits during Government, wondering how they might compare in size to your mom's. But these moments were few and far between. Most of your attention you tried to focus on Allison, your crush, who was super cute and a lot of fun to hang out with...

So what if her tits aren't super huge? She's so fucking hot! you told yourself as you sat there next to her in the cafeteria, eating your lunch. She was were your focus should really be.

Once school was finished and you found yourself returning home again, things quickly changed. Almost as soon as you walked in the front door and were confronted by the sight of Randall doing a little vacuuming in the front room, your feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment quickly resurfaced.

"Hey, dude." he smiled as you as you walked in the door. "How was school?"

"It was... you know, okay I guess." you told him, again fighting the urge to stare at his voluptuous curves. "Hows... hows your day been?"

"Oh you know. Same old same old. Got up. Played some COD. Did a little bit of vacuuming. Nothing terribly exciting."

"Ah. Cool."

You really didn't know what else to say, and neither did he. So after a much longer pause than you would have deemed necessary, you told him, "Well, I gotta go put my stuff away." Retreating once more to the safety of your room.

You felt terrible as you left him, the stiltedness of your conversation being nothing like how you used to talk - having developed a relaxed and easy flowing dialogue with your friend over the last 13 years. Back there it felt almost like you were strangers, and you could only hope it would improve. That and your ability to look at him - at your mother's face - without those overpowering feelings of shame.

After hiding away in your bedroom for a good few hours, doing homework and playing a little on your PC, you were eventually **** to face him again when he called you down for dinner. Sitting opposite him for a full half hour proved pretty tricky to start, and you found your eyes constantly wandering throughout the meal. Following the curve of his breasts as they stretched out the material of the blouse, causing prominent stress lines across the front. You'd never consciously noticed this before, but your mother's upper body was certainly packed tightly into her clothes. Her bust being so large that if you had to guess, each mound was almost the same size as her head.

Thankfully, Randall did manage to snap you out of this, at least a while, trying his best to get things back to normal as he recounted a tale about the first time he'd attempted to make lasagna (which you were currently enjoying now).

"...almost set the damn fire alarm off it was so cremated. Good thing we still had those pizza menus, huh?"

"Yeah. That was pretty funny." you agreed, recalling the incident with some fondness. Good old Randall, even with all this awkwardness he was still somehow able to make you laugh.

Focusing on this aspect then, after dinner the two of you sat in the living room and played some more Xbox together, trying to keep the conversation flowing and

try not to dwell too much on all the other stuff. It wasn't easy, but over the next few days things gradually began to return normal between you two (give or take a few uncomfortable moments here and there). On the surface at least...

Really it was just that, a facade. Underneath things still felt exactly the same (for you anyway) You'd seen your mother's body in a fashion you'd never even imagined, or even wanted to see before, and because of that a switch hard been turned on inside you that you had no way of turning off. Every time you looked at Randall still, you had flashbacks. Your eyes devouring his chest at every opportunity. You felt bad about it of course, but you were unable to stop, finding yourself also, on more than one occasion, checking out his ass. Noticing for the first time how big and round and firm it looked underneath your mother's jeans. For her 40 years on the planet, your mom really did have some pretty impressive curves, and you were beginning to see her less as a mother and more as a woman. A very attractive woman at that.

Soon, Allison Lowry, Miss. Card and Amber Knights no longer seemed to do it for you in quite the same way, on the few occasions that you actually got the chance to jack off (making sure to keep your door locked this time). They were still hot and all, but your mind continued to jump back to those large jiggling melons with their thick brown nips that had belonged to your mom. And so finally, after holding out for so long, you actually sat back in your computer chair one night and started masturbating to the thought of her instead of porn - imagining her bursting into your room to give you a replay of Randall's show... Only this time, going much, much further!

Grunting loudly as you came, picturing your naked mother straddling you, with those huge boobs pressed against your face as you did, you realized then and there that you had a serious problem - one that wasn't going to be easily addressed. It was one thing jerking off while she was right there in front of you and feeling awful about it afterwards. Or having a dream you couldn't control. Actually fantasizing about her like she was some porn star, that was something else entirely...

Shit. you thought, dropping your face into your hands as you sat there, staring down at your slowly deflating cock. It no longer being just her boobs you were turned on by. What the hell am I going to do?