Tending to My Fat Mom Ch. 02

She relaxed completely then, her body pressing me into the mattress, the folds of her flesh warm and soft as I was lost in her.

"I hope you're certain," she said, her voice low and coarse, like she needed to clear the mucus before making a speech, "because there's no turning back now."

I couldn't breathe and my body was starting to go into oxygen starvation panic.

And still, she held me there, her relaxed, me helpless.

I was being drowned in her and I couldn't escape.

She rolled off of me, finally, and I missed her weight almost immediately.

When I opened my eyes she was smiling.

"I sure hope this isn't wrong," she said, "because it feels too perfect."

I got my breath back and rolled up onto my side.

"This IS perfect," I said, and latched onto her nipple on that big roll of fat.

"Did you plan this?" she asked, stroking my hair lightly.

I shook my head but did not release her nipple.

She giggled then.

"Neither did I," she said, "but I did know my door was open."

She stroked my hair for a while then, quiet.

"And I DID want it," she said.

I really don't have any idea how long we laid like that, me nursing, her lightly stroking my hair. Long enough that I started to need to pee.

Long enough, apparently, that her nipple got sore. She used her finger to break my latch and said, very softly, "enough for now baby."

I reached for her other nipple with my mouth but she giggled and rolled away.

"It's dry anyway," she said and kissed me.

I was hard again, as I reached for her. She giggled and touched where I was hard.

"Already?" she asked.

I held out my arms but she giggled and headed into the bathroom.

I loved watching her walk away. She moved in that ponderous way of a truly fat woman, her arms held slightly away from her body leaving room for those great pads of fat inside of her upper arms, her hips moving side to side, each big dimpled ass cheek a separate thing, alive with its own mind. I could feel the smile spreading across my face.

I rolled out of bed and followed her.

As she sat, making a soft grunting sound as she did, she smiled up at me.

"I guess there's no modesty left, is there?" she asked.

I kissed her by way of answer.

"None at all," I said, bending over and nuzzling her neck.

I could almost see her fighting with a lifetime of inhibitions to do what she had been taught all of her life was a very private business.

And then there was that moment of relaxation as I heard the soft hissing sound of a woman peeing.

I kissed her as she peed, feeling the tension leaving her from this taboo experience.

She got her hands between us, pushed me away, and flashed that GRIN she had sometimes. Her fingers were in my hair then and she pulled me to her as the smell told me she was doing more than peeing.

I didn't fight a bit. I kissed her, stroked her hair, lightly rubbed her shoulders as she did her morning business.

She giggled as she let a long, sonorous fart, and then pulled me down for another kiss.

Mom's a big woman and it takes her a while to finish. It was a long, intimate kiss.

Finally, I felt one last rush of tension, heard one final grunt, and she relaxed.

I pulled off a couple of feet of toilet paper and made a pad but then, when I looked, I realized why she had been so rashy down there. Between her belly, covering her thighs, and her big ass, hanging over the sides, it was just plain hard to reach where I needed to.

"Come on," I said, standing and offering my hand.

"David," she said, "I need to wipe."

"No," I said, smiling, "you need to get clean and that's what I'm going to do."

She looked up at me, kind of smiled crookedly, and took my hand.

I helped her stand, something else she did in that way of a truly fat woman, rocking forward to find her balance and then grunting softly as she stood. Then I walked her to the shower, smiling to myself at her little I-didn't-have-time-to-wipe steps we've all taken from time to time.

I turned on the shower, letting it run hot, and kissed her while we waited.

"You are so God DAMN beautiful," I said, my hands running over her back, well, as far around her back as I could reach, and down to pat her ass.

The water ran warm then hot and I held her hand as she stepped into the shower and then I followed her.

She looked oddly girlish as the water sluiced over her head, soaking her hair and leaving it hanging wet, covering her face.

I took down the handheld showerhead and adjusted it to the Vibro-massage jet and started hosing down her ass. Her big ass cheeks were liberally smeared because of the way they didn't truly part when she was crapping I suppose. I used my left hand to pull her cheeks apart and used the water jet to clean her up. I followed with soap.

Since we were in the shower anyway, I did her face and then her hair and then the rest of her body, taking my time. Jesus, the way her fat squeezed up through my fingers when they were slippery with the soap had me hard instantly.

She did me then, surprising me by quickly masturbating me.

"You used to get hard when you were nursing," she said, "and I always wondered what it would be like to do this."

When I came, it was as good as I hoped it might be.

"Oh hell," she said, "now I'm sorry I waited so long."

She used soap and water on my dick where I soft now, making me giggle and squirm.

When we were dry I had her sit on the chair in front of her makeup table and changed the sheets. Then I helped her onto the bed and did a full-body inspection, using the Desitin as needed. I loved the way she was so relaxed when I was done.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"FAMISHED!" she said.

"You relax and I'll go get us something," I said.

I dressed, kissed her, and went to the Krispy Kreme bakery about a mile away from the house.

I got a mixed dozen doughnuts, grinning as I picked them out.

On the way home I stopped at a local convenience store and got a gallon of whole milk to replace the watered-down 2% milk she had in the refrigerator.

When I got home I found her in bed, and she had adopted a sexy pose. She was laid back, her right arm extended across the pillow, her left bent with her hand behind her head, her left leg was straight and her right was bent so that her foot rested on the inside of her left knee. She was smiling.

"Yes, mom," I said as I walked into the room, "you're gorgeous."

I adjusted her then into a reclining position, her back propped against the three pillows I had laid out for her.

And then I fed her.

Well, no, that's another time the word is too gentle.

And then I began encouraging her natural gluttony.

The sensual pleasure of the basic act of feeding her, of watching her open her mouth and then filling it with one of the donuts, seeing the pure pleasure on her face as the taste washed over her tongue, the sexy smear of icing or chocolate on her lips, quickly morphed into sexual desire.

It was working on her too. By the third donut, her cheeks bulging, her nose running a little, the womanscent of her arousal was a wonderful perfume in the air.

I let her swallow after that third donut and offered her the glass of milk, pouring it into her mouth a little too fast so it dribbled down her chin and onto her breasts and belly.

The feeding lasted over an hour. As she finished the last donut, working to swallow now, her belly distended from all that she had eaten, her face was a mess of icing and chocolate and crumbs and saliva where she had drooled some.

I kissed her.

"God, you are sexy," I said.

"Davey," she said, looking at me, her eyes kind of unfocused, "is this what you want?"

I grinned.

"I think this is what YOU want," I said, "to let go after a lifetime of dieting."

She was crying softly when I kissed her.

"It's okay, mom," I said, "I'm going to take care of you now. You took care of me, now it's my turn."

Her womanscent was thick in the air. When I reached down I found her slick and ready.

This time I used my hands to encourage her to roll over, onto her belly.

I took her from behind, vaginally, wallowing in the sensation of bending my body over her big ass.

It was my second time this morning and so I had staying power, and I stayed. I set up a slow, easy rhythm, my fingers digging into the soft roll of fat at her hips for leverage.

She was cumming in just a minute or so, and when I looked down I saw that her nectar had changed. It was thick and white now, almost like my semen, as she flowed with her release. Her body would tense as a wave took her, and she would tighten around me, and then she would relax, but I just kept that same easy, steady rhythm up.

After a dozen of those waves, though, she came explosively. I felt a new level of tension and she threw her head back and cried out, something best written as "eeeeeEEEEEEEAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEeeeeeeeeee," with the pitch of her voice first rising and then falling. I pulled out and looked down, fascinated at the way she squirted that thick white honey, almost like my ejaculation.

As soon as she stopped I entered her again and set up my rhythm.

She was spent, though, and just lay, relaxed.

But I wasn't done. If we're being honest, I was finding it fun in a weird, necrophilic way. About every fourth or fifth thrust she would sort of grunt, an "unhhhh," sound.

Finally, my body took over and I came. The ejaculation was more like painful than pleasurable though, as I strained and overloaded nerve endings sent wild, cryptic messages through my system.

I rolled off of her and she threw her arm across me, kissed my cheek, and said, "I could get used to this."

I brushed my fingers over the soft skin at the inside of her upper arm and wondered how I had missed it the first time. The skin there was thick. Not callused, but thick, almost leathery, and it struck me that this was the result of the way it would constantly rub against her body. So I started checking and sure enough, her side, from her armpit down her ribs, showed a similar thickening of the skin. I wasn't surprised, then, when I found the same thing at the tops of her inner thighs where they rubbed together with every step, and at the entrance to every fold where the skin was constantly touching and moving against itself.

When I looked up she was smiling.

"All part of being a fat girl, honey," she said.

I took her hand and lifted her arm, nuzzling at that thick skin on the big fat pad I exposed. "All part of being a beautiful woman," I said.

I kissed her again, and then rolled over and got the tube of Desitin out of the nightstand drawer and started inspecting her, checking for rashes but also fascinated with that thickness in her skin I had found.

And that is how my first morning as a motherfucker ended.