****All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.****
It started innocently enough.
It was this new experimental VR game that promised to "personalize the experience." The system said it would build a protagonist based on your most emotionally resonant memories.
You didn't expect it to choose her.
Your Mom.
There she was, standing on the digital start screen in hiking boots and that warm jacket she always wore on weekend trips. Her hair tied back, her smile soft, patient -- just like you remembered.
"Are you ready to play, Son?"
You played. Clumsily at first. The game didn't give you instructions. There was no tutorial level. It was part puzzle, part platformer, part action - like Tomb Raider - except starring your Mom.
You kept making mistakes. Missed jumps, failed choices, wrong doors, failed quick-time sequences. Each time, your Mom would comically wobble, as parts of her clothes began to disappear. Her warm jacket. Her hiking jeans. Her shirt. Her bra. She would just giggle, no matter how many times you failed. Giggle as she became more exposed - her motherly curves bouncing, her plump ass swaying, her breasts - now free of her bra - flopping left and right with each movement.
"Are you having fun, sweetheart? I am!"
Each mistake caused the ticker of lives remaining in the upper corner, represented by your sweet Mom's smiling face, to slowly trickle down. Try as you might, they vanished quickly, each number seemingly judging you for your poor playing as it ticked downward.
"Oh no!" your Mom said teasingly, as she stood there in nothing more than her thong, her hands resting on her hips, "only one more life! You'd better be careful, Son!"
Except you weren't. You missed a jump that you had already done before. You timed it wrong.
The life counter showed a zero.
And then you reached the "Continue?" screen.
Your mom was there - naked; exposed; her legs spread; framed in that flickering countdown timer. Her hands moved across her soft, warm titflesh, tracing the outline of her nipples as she breathed out slowly. She lowered her delicate fingers to the very center of her womanhood - to your very place of birth. Her soft, inviting pink folds glistened as she began to rub, her hand gliding across her clit. Spreading herself. Feeling her soft, matronly inner walls
"You'd better press start, sweetheart," she said gently, looking straight at you. "Otherwise it's game over for me."
The camera zoomed out, showing what awaited her: a handsome, muscular young man, his thick cock twitching uncontrollably as he gazed at your Mommy. A big grin on his face - a look of thirst that only your Mom could quench. He slowly moved towards her - each step perfectly timed with the countdown timer's diminishing numbers.
