A Mommy's Cure for Bad Dreams

Bobby sighed as he fully expected her to return wearing one of her boring, oversized sleep shirts she was prone to wearing to bed. Instead, as she came bouncing back into the bedroom, still wearing only the towel and carrying a bottle of wine, along with a wine glass, he was pleasantly surprised.

After filling the glass up, she handed it to him. "Take several large swallows honey as I will help relax you which you certainly need after that awful dream huh? And while you are doing that I am going to help your efforts to relax by creating a more tranquil atmosphere inside my bedroom."

He took a large sip of the wine, it was actually pretty good, before he asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Just light a few candles to help set our mood, honey."

He watched, his eyes inadvertently falling to her bare legs as she hustled about the bedroom, first setting up and then lighting a trio of pillar candles on each of the two nightstands flanking both sides of her bed.

Her chore of creating a more conducive atmosphere completed, Samantha came back to the bed, settling down next to him.

Holding her hand out, she gestured for him to give her the still half full glass of wine. He watched, his excitement growing as she greedily gulped down the balance in several long swallows. His excitement was based on experience as his mother tended to get "overly friendly" when she got a bit of wine in her.

Smiling, she refilled the glass. "I guess we better sip on this one, honey."

After she sat the bottle of wine back over on the nightstand, he finally asked the question which had been bothering him for some time. "Mom are you going to like, put some pajamas on or something?"

"Well, you know Bobby I was thinking that in order to help you get over that bad dream of yours we should sort of reset the narrative . . . so to speak."

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"I mean we should do a sort of reenactment of your awful dream and in order to make it realistic as possible I should stay dressed, or undressed I guess might be more like it, in my blue towel while you . . . here stand up."

Obeying her, he stood up.

Reaching out, she quickly hooked a pair of fingers under the waistband of his old dark blue gym shorts he always slept in.

As she started to yank the shorts down, she cried out, "Hey what are you doing, Mom."

"Like I said, if we recreate your dream you and me both should be dressed as we were and you said you were in your underwear only so . . ."

"But Mom--" He started to protest before she interrupted him with a firm finger to his lips.

"Shhh," she said as she pulled his shorts down all the way before removing them. "It's important I think for us to do this reenactment of your awful dream and give it a better ending that doesn't leave you hurt and crying as I believe it will be the only way to truly cure that visibly overly jealous heart of yours."

Bobby was too much taken off guard by this wild turn of events to even comment as he allowed her to push him gently back down on the bed after she stripped off his tee shirt.

After tossing the tee shirt down on the floor next to his shorts, she whispered, "So are you really, for sure, ready to do our reenactment so your mommy can seriously start mending that jealous heart of yours as she makes you forget all about that silly dream of yours by replacing it with some much better memories?"

"Yes, I think so."

"You know what I think?"

"Tell me."

Moving her mouth back to his ear, she whispered the truth to him quietly, "I think everything you saw in your dream, me and Billy kissing, your mom showing off her tits to him, and then letting him touch them and suckle on them and then, most importantly, the noises you heard after fleeing downstairs, the bed squeaking, over and over again, faster and faster, and then me moaning . . . loudly . . . is all just a realization of your own fantasies about your mother, sweetie."

Bobby took a deep breath, too stunned to answer . . . because it was the truth.

Her hand slipped up, caressing his cheek, causing sparkles of emotion to crawl up and down his spine. "You don't have to be embarrassed sweetheart, a lot of teenage boys have sex fantasies about their moms, I mean, especially when their moms are pretty and . . ."

Using one hand, she reached out tilting his face toward her so they were looking at each other directly.

"You do think I'm pretty right, honey?"

"Very," he said in a voice that was on the verge of croaking.

"Pretty enough to kiss?"

"Y-yes," he said nervously as he realized where she was taking this, that is, in the same place as his dream which could only mean . . .

Their mouths came together, gradually, exchanging several light, airy kisses-- as if they were testing the waters before diving in. Their light kisses were never bound to last though as Samantha pressed her lips more firmly against his before slipping her tongue out.

Bobby, inexperienced as he was, never felt a tongue in his mouth before, and when his mom slipped her practiced tongue inside, swirling it around to maximum effect several times, he was lost.

Their impassioned kissing fest continued unabated for a good minute or two before Samantha finally broke it off. After pulling back, she smiled at him. "Now let me see," she whispered, "What happened next in your dream after the kissing part. Can you remind me, honey?"

Bobby swallowed nervously. Was she really going to go that far in their reenactment? God, he hoped so! In a voice barely rising to a whisper, he told her, "Y-you stood up so you were standing right in front of him."

"You mean like this?"

Samantha stood up positioning herself around so she was standing directly in front of him. "And then?" she whispered.

"And then you very slowly undid the towel . . . and let it fall down, showing him . . . your breasts before whispering, 'You think your mommy's breasts are nice baby?'"

"Hmm, I wonder. . ." She said as she brought her hand up to the top edge of the towel just above her breasts. Smiling, she asked him, "Would you like your mom to show you her tits . . . just like she did for your best friend in your dream?"

Bobby stared at her, saying nothing, doing nothing, simply unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Hmm, is my little Bobby too shy to answer?" she asked playfully before bringing one finger up to her mouth—while allowing the towel to slip down just enough to show off a nice slice of her abundant cleavage.

She made her smile disappear, replacing it with a seriously pensive look of quiet contemplation as she chewed thoughtfully on the nail of her right hand's index finger.

This pondering look, along with the abundant amount of cleavage she was showing off, made his whole body shiver with pent up excitement.

She took a small step or two closer to him before turning around about three quarters of the way so her back was to him. As she slowly opened the towel some more, she mused aloud, "I wonder, should I . . . or shouldn't I?"

She opened the towel up even further before twisting her head around and smiling at him. It was a smile of quiet seduction that spoke directly to both his heart and his growing manhood.

Finally, after a long drawn out pause, she turned back to him, but not before closing the towel once more over her chest by wrapping her hands around herself in a bear hug.

"Hmm, maybe your mom shouldn't show her little boy her big boobies . . . even if he has been dreaming about them for so long . . . unless you tell me the truth."

Sighing, she continued to hug herself with both arms, pressing the towel tightly shut over her chest . . . much to his chagrin.

"The truth about what?" he nervously asked.

"That your dream was really just a manifestation of your very own secret forbidden desire to see your mom's boobs for the first time."

Bobby, unsure of what to say—was she simply teasing him, after all she was obviously drunk and did get sometimes very playful when she was drunk—stayed quiet.

"Answer me, honey. Is your mom wrong?" she asked in a voice dripping with sweetness.

After a long pause he whispered, "No."

"Well then . . ." she whispered back, "I hope you won't be too disappointed when I show them to you."

Slowly, inch by inch, she gathered the towel together towards the middle of her chest, allowing both the outer sides of her large boobs to become visible to his wide, staring eyes. She held the towel there in the center of her chest with both hands for a quiet moment before, bit by bit, letting it slip down and off her chest, fully exposing both of her breasts to him.

Bobby exhaled loudly. Jesus his mom had a great set of tits! He stared at them, totally spellbound for a long drawn out moment before his mom quietly whispered, "Do you like them baby? Do you like your mom's tits?"

After letting out a long shaky breath he finally answered. "Oh Jesus Mom I . . . I love them. I mean they are fucking gorgeous. Sorry, didn't mean to cuss, I mean they are real nice."

Samantha smiled at him while subtly thrusting her chest out. Taking another step closer toward him, she whispered sweetly. "So I am wondering sweetie, do you wanna touch your mommy's big boobies some maybe . . . like I let Billy in that stupid dream of yours."

"Really . . . you . . . you would let me do that, Mommy?" Bobby whispered hoarsely.

"Of course, sweetheart. Here let me show you coz I know how shy you are."

Reaching out, she grabbed both of his hands in hers before guiding them slowly over to her tits. Stopping just mere inches short of them, Samantha was suddenly, and totally possessed, by the ideaof how much fun it might be to do a bit of teasing first before giving in to his boyish desires.

Holding his hands tightly, she guided them back down and away from her chest as she whispered. "But before I let you touch them baby your mom wants to do a bit of playful teasing first. Would that be OK?"

"Ahh, sure, I guess," he answered with obvious disappointment.

"Good. Well, then first I need to grab something real quick."

She quickly left, disappearing into the bathroom before returning mere seconds later carrying a bottle of coconut oil.

"Now all you have to do is sit there, keeping your hands neatly folded in your lap while watching me. Can you do that?"

"Yes," he answered softly as he followed her instructions and folded his hands in his lap.

Bobby watched his mother pour a generous amount of the coconut oil onto the palms of both hands before sealing the bottle back up and placing it on the nearby nightstand within easy reach.

He watched as she rubbed her hands together, spreading the oil over them evenly. He watched as she gave him a sly smile. He watched as she slowly brought her hands up to her breasts and started to rub the oil all over them and continued to watch, happily, as she slowly massaged the oil into her breasts while fixing him with a shrewd smile.

"You like this baby. You like watching your mom rub the nice coconut oil all over her big boobies?"

"Yes," he immediately answered.

"I bet you wish you could be the one doing it huh?"

"I . . . I do," he replied timidly.

Dropping her hands off her tits, she took several small steps closer to him until she was standing just inches from him.

"Now I want you to just sit there, staring at your mom's tits while dreaming how nice it might be to play with them . . . especially as they are all nice and oiled up now."

Using one hand, she tilted his face up to her. "Can you do that for me?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said.

"And as you stare at them, dreaming of touching them I want you to count silently to yourself to . . . hmm, to twenty I think. And if you want your reward you will count very, very slowly, sweetheart because if you mom thinks you counted too fast you won't be given your reward of being allowed to play with her boobies. Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"OK, start counting, silently to yourself now."

Bobby took a deep breath as he stared at his mom's tits. In the soft candle light, oiled up as they were, they glistened with unearthly beauty. He waited for a long moment before finally started to count.

It was pure torture, this counting, while staring at her beautiful tits and it only got worse when she began to gently use her fingers to tease her nipples.

Then, in an effort to ramp up the teasing to the maximum effect, she began to whisper to him. "I just bet you have been dreaming of playing with your mom's big tits for a long, long time huh, baby?"

Reaching out, she twirled her fingers softly in his hair. "Hmm, you don't have to answer because I know it's true."

"Well I have a confession to make honey. Sometimes when I am alone in bed at night I too have dreams. Dreams of my sweet little Bobby playing with his mommy's big boobies so very nicely. Hmm, those dreams make me so hot. Sometimes I use my own hands to play with my boobies while closing my eyes and fantasying they are yours . . . like this."

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she brought her hands up to her chest. Using both hands, she cupped her tits softly before beginning to carefully jiggle and bounce them up and down in her hands.

Heeding her advice to count slowly, he was only at a count of six by then, he stared in abject misery at what his mom was doing. His cock, by now, was hard enough to cut diamonds.

It only became harder as she begin using her thumbs to tweak her nipples until they were fully erect. Whispering, just loud enough for him to hear, she cooed, "Oh that's it Bobby, sweetheart, mommy loves it when you play with her nipples . . . making them all nice and erect."

Bobby sighed while slowly ticking off the next four numbers before pausing at ten.

"Now close your eyes honey as your mommy has a big surprise for you . . . but keep counting as I can only imagine you must be extremely anxious to get to twenty huh?"

"Yes," he replied quietly.

"So what is your count at now baby. Tell your mom and she will let you know if she thinks you are counting too fast for her liking."

"I'm . . . I'm only at ten, Mom."

"Ten already," she said with exaggerated surprise. "Boy you count fast, huh?"

"But I thought I was counting . . . slowly," he whined.

"Well apparently not slow enough maybe, huh? Now remember if you want to be allowed to play with your mommy's boobies you better slow your count down sweetie . . . and I'm not going to warn you again and, just so you know, if you fail to count slowly enough for my liking, the fun and games for the night shall be over. Understand?"

"Yes," he sighed.

"Now close your eyes like I told you before and don't open them until I tell you to."

He closed his eyes while not daring to even start counting again, and after a brief pause, he felt the oiled flesh of her tits being rubbed in his face.

Bobby groaned from pure agony . . . and delight as his mom carefully bounced her tits up and down and all around in his face.

Finally, after what seemed to be forever, he ticked off two more numbers on his count, hoping he still wasn't going too fast.

"I have an idea, hon. Go ahead and crawl up on the bed and then turn around and stretch out on your tummy."

He started to follow her orders before she added, "Oh but before you do that go ahead and take off your underwear and are you still counting?"

"Yes . . . I'm at twelve now," he told her as he hurriedly did as she requested, shedding his briefs before lying down on his stomach in the middle of her bed.

"Good, good, you have slowed down . . . some."

Moving up on the bed herself, she positioned herself on her hands and knees over him. Leaning down she let her heavy breasts fall against the middle of his back as she said, "Relax now baby, while your mommy gives her sweet little baby boy a nice relaxing tit massage."

It was pure fucking heavenly torture feeling his mom's heavy breasts being carefully manipulated up and down his bare back in small circles.

Bobby counted off silently a pair of numbers as she teased him with her breasts, bringing his count to fourteen before she whispered in his ear, "Turn over honey."

Bobby shut his eyes, turning over onto his back.

Once he got in position on his back, Samantha looked at him, and not liking the way his eyes were tightly shut, she whispered, "Open your eyes, honey and look at me."

His eyes flickered open. She was sitting there, alongside him, on her knees. His eyes, of course, fell directly on her tits.

"Now keeping counting . . . slowly . . . and if you do it right, your count of twenty will finish up at about the same time as this nice little tit massage your mom is giving you."

She straddled him then, letting her tits fall in his face as she began to rotate her chest around in small circles, smothering poor Bobby's face in a virtual avalanche of warm tit flesh.

He waited until this newest exquisite torment was finished, and she moved her massage on down to his chest before he counted fifteen.

As her boobs bounced merrily on down his chest, and onto his tummy his cock began to twitch in budding anticipation of those soft pillowy tits reaching down to them.

Samantha smiled wickedly. Knowing what her teasing must be doing to him, she slid her chest around in a wide circular motion over his tummy.

Having a sudden inspiration she paused to look up at him. "Where does your count stand, Bobby?"

F-fifteen," he answered while praying she would not deem it "too fast".

"Not bad, a bit fast but, you know, I was thinking maybe you should let your mom take over counting for you so that way you won't be in danger of going too fast and losing your reward huh?"

He could not argue with the logic, plus, obviously, she wanted to take over the counting, or she would not have suggested it.

"Sure," he sighed in relief of losing the burden of counting while knowing she would probably count slow, very slow, in order to draw out her teasing.

"Good," she whispered before dropping back down. Moving deliberately, she skated her breasts down and off of his tummy and onto his thighs, making sure to skip over his agonizing hard manhood.

Smiling up at him, as she bounced her breasts over one thigh and then the other, as she whispered, "Sixteen."

After letting her tits glide all the way down to his lower thighs, just above his knees, she slowly began to move them back up.

As she reached his crotch she lifted up some, breaking contact, before whispering, "Seventeen."

Closing her eyes, she dropped his chest slowly as Bobby squirmed at the looming prospect of having his mom's big tits massaging his cock.

"Oh God, that feels so good," he whispered as his mom's warm tits enveloped his hardness.

In a leisurely manner, Samantha grinded her tits up and down, and all around his crotch, loving the way it was making him quietly moan. Whispering, she announced, "Eighteen."

Although she had not told him as much, Bobby somehow knew if he allowed himself to come all over her tits, like he desperately wanted to, it would ruin things for her . . . and for him.

It took a supreme effort but somehow he managed to forestall coming as her tit massage reached its climax when she pressed her tits even firmer against his cock, just as she whispered, "Nineteen."

After what seemed forever as he closed his eyes and bit his lip, hard, while she massaged his cock with her tits, she finally looked up at him, and with a sly smile, announced, "Twenty."

Bobby let out a sigh of relief as she rose up, thankfully allowing her tits to break contact with his hard cock as he had been seriously on the verge of a mighty orgasm.

Samantha climbed off the bed as she told him, "If you are ready to collect your reward sweetie, come sit on the edge of the bed."

Bobby eagerly scooted over to the edge of the bed as she positioned herself so she was standing directly in front of him.