No, you're stopped by your mom

All hope of dealing with this threat quickly leaves your mind when you see your mom in the living room. She always demands at least 5 minutes of interaction whenever her baby returns home. You take a sharp breath to brace for her affections without being weird.

You often worry about her noticing you getting turned on while she hugs you. You find her incredibly attractive, and having her soft, chubby frame envelope your tiny, malnourished one forces you to confront that fact. It especially doesn’t help that your relative height puts your face right into her big, saggy tits. Though if you were taller, you’d have your face in her loose frizzy hair, right next to the tattoo of your namesake on her neck, and that might be just as bad.

You don’t usually like to throw the term “big tits” around, but your mom would be the first to describe herself that way. When she heard the phrase “big mommy milkers” on BipBup, she started referring to her own breasts as such around the house. You definitely cringed the first time she said it to you… but later that day you replayed her saying it in your mind, while you masturbated to one of her bikini pics that showed off not only her milkers but also her cute kissable tum.

“So how were your classes today, sweetie?“ your mom asks on her way up from the couch.

Shit. You got caught fantasizing again. Just act natural. “Oh, you know, good, I’m really fitting in at Short Bluff” you manage to squeeze out. “Got exciting plans today?”

Your mom is dressed casually in a braless tank top and leggings, but the fact that she has her brow stud in tells you she’s gearing up for a hot date, or just came back from one.

“Nothing is as exciting as seeing my babies, but yes, I am meeting a pretty lady tonight.” she says while pulling you in for a crushing mama bear hug. “Do you think this perfume is okay?” She asks with your face pressed up against her oceany bosom.

You’re about to mumble your response into her cleavage, when you feel a painful electric shock course through you, starting from your face. An involuntary yelp bursts out of you, and you think you hear your mom yelp at the same time. You break away and rub your face. Your mom immediately starts apologizing profusely with a hand on her chest.

“... I don’t know what I did, maybe it’s the shirt?...” In the midst of her apologies, you hear an unfamiliar chime from your pocket. Your mom doesn’t seem to notice, and keeps apologizing unfettered. “... Are you okay? Do you need ice? Were you burned?...”

“I’m fine, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re still the best mom in the world.” you reassure her. “I think I just need to lie down.” you add, slinking toward your bedroom.

“Okay, okay, I understand, you need your space” she replies. “I’ll see you later tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you about my day then.” At this point you’re not totally sure how your day is going anyway.

“Yay!” she chirps.

You’re already halfway inside your room, so you rededicate yourself to solving the mystery of how this app got your name.