Your mother.

You freeze. Two separate but related thoughts are running through your mind and they're overloading your synapses to the point of immobility.

First, the changes you've made have affected your mother just like everybody else, and she's standing at the entrance to your room wearing nothing but a pair of jogging shorts and a frilly apron. Gone is the mother you used to have, with her frumpy looks and sagging body, replaced by a beauty that could have made major money by going into modelling. You can still see hints of her original form--shoulder length black hair, green eyes filled with intelligence, the way she holds herself when you know she's upset with you--but the rest has been upgraded. The wrinkles are gone from her face and the fat she carried has disappeared until all that's left is an hourglass figure that is mouthwatering to any red-blooded male, including you. Her apron is petite, not only showcasing a magnificent amount of cleavage and allowing a large amount of titflesh to spill out the side--she must have gone up at least a couple of cup sizes--but also thin enough to show hints of two dusky pink nipples. She's now a perfect ten and you're brain can barely handle.

And second, your cock had been left in its erect position, fat shaft and tip pointing ahead of you like a spear, when the door opened and your mom's staring right at it.

"Oh, Jesus," she says, exasperated and disgusted. "What the hell do you think you're doing, masturbating right now? I've got dinner ready. Put that thing away!"

You struggle to obey your mother, but when you try to pull up your shorts, your engorged dick is too large for the fabric to handle and a full inch of your penis sticks out the top. You try to get it to subside but you're so flustered by the situation and your mother's smoking hot body that it just won't go down. She stands there, watching your inability to do what she's asked and growing more upset by the moment. She crosses her arms across her inflated chest--making it bulge and jiggle free of its confines (not exactly helping your efforts)--and opens her mouth to let you have it.

And then it clicks in your mind. This is exactly what your fail-safe was meant to handle.

"Mom, it's alright," you say before she can begin. "As a family, we live in such close quarters that it's natural for us to see each other completely naked. And masturbation is just a natural event for somebody with as big a dick as me, isn't it?"

The change in her expression is immediate. She glances down at the bulbous monster still protruding from your shorts and she sighs, uncrossing her arms. "Of course, you're absolutely right, honey. But would you mind waiting to jerk off until after dinner? I've made your favorite lasagna and I don't want it going cold. The rest of the family's already waiting."

"Sure, mom. No problem." She turns to go and you immediately add, "I don't know if I've mentioned this recently, but your big tits look amazing in that apron."

She blushes and looks down at her giant rack. "Really, they look good in this old thing? I just put it on because I didn't want anything hot spilling onto me. Well, thank you for making a lady feel appreciated."

She crosses the room and gives you a big hug, crushing her tits against your still naked chest and you can feel their softness rub across you. You hug her back, luxuriating in the warmth and love from this sexy woman. When she steps away, she says, "Honestly, I feel so confined when I wear this. I can't wait to take it off and let my boobs be free, like they should be. Now come on downstairs."

She gives you a peck on the cheek and turns away, her hands reaching to the back of her neck where the tie to the apron is. With a short tug, the knot comes undone and she catches the cloth before it falls to the ground. From behind, you can see her breasts sway as she walks, her curves peeking out to the left, then the right, and then repeat. Her ass, round as a beach ball, is the last thing you see as she turns the corner. God damn, you think. If all the women in this world look like your mom, you're going to die of a heart attack in less than a week.