Mama's Girls

**Disclaimer**

This story contains fantasy depictions of women with cocks. These are not trans women or crossdressers, which is why this series is not hosted in that tagged category. Several of the characters also engage in incestuous acts throughout the series, and develop romantic attachments to one another. If any of these things are not to your liking, there are tons of other great stories on Literotica for you to enjoy!

********************

"And have you finished your schedule?" Mom asked.

"Mhm! Most of my classes are on Tuesday and Thursday, but I've got morning classes on Friday and Wednesday too."

"That's great, sweetie! Friday afternoons and Mondays off means long weekends all semester! I honestly can't even believe this is your second year of college already!"

I smiled warmly at Mom, perched on the edge of my bed, and pawed at my phone to pull my emails up.

"Abercrombie is having a sale this weekend, see?" I asked, turning the screen toward her. Mom's eyes flicked toward the screen briefly, then back to what she was busy with. "Wanna go after this?"

"Sure baby, that sounds great. We need to get you some new skirts, and maybe some cute stockings or something."

"That...oh! That sounds...that sounds really...nice," I sighed contentedly, nibbling my lip. My toes squirmed under the covers.

Mama read the signs correctly and reached for the towel folded on her lap just in time. "That's it baby, nice and quick one, eh?"

My hips rose off the bed and my brow creased in a tight wrinkle, Mama's hand stroking me wetly while her other hand waited, poised to clamp the towel over my tip when the time came.

"Ugh!" I grunted, clenching my ass and chomping down on my forefinger's knuckle. "I'm...Mama, I'm cumming!"

The towel wasn't perfect, but it was good enough most of the time; my hose drained itself into the cottony cover audibly, squelching powerfully against the hand Mom kept clamped over my tip. My head swam, my chest heaving with an effort to catch my breath while Mom encouraged me affectionately.

"That's it, baby, let it all out. That's my good girl. Pump, pump, pump." Her glowing, maternal smile was so genuine and so sweet as she stroked me right through the ebbing throes of my eruption.

God, I loved my Mom.

"There we go, sweetheart. All done, hey?" She cooed, mopping up the dregs of cum that had spurted messily down my softening shaft. "That's a big, sticky one! We really should have drained you after breakfast this morning too."

"I know," I replied, "But I felt okay, and you'd already done it for me when I got up, so I didn't want to ask again."

"Oh, sweetie," she replied, leaning in to brush a few stray strands of blonde hair away from my cheek. "You know you need to let me handle that for you sometimes. Dr. Niko says we're keeping things right where they should be these days, and I want you healthy and happy; if you feel yourself getting too worked up, you need to tell me. Got it?"

I looked down at my softening monster, still frighteningly long despite having cum already. The bat between my legs slowly deflated, sure to rise again as soon as my over-productive hormones decided it was time to derail my day again. "Yeah," I replied dejectedly, "I got it."

"That's my girl," Mom replied, leaning in for a peck on my cheek. "Now, I've got lots of clean panties put away in your drawer; get yourself dressed when you're ready and we'll head to the mall."

I thanked her politely, waiting till she'd dumped the soaked cum rag in the hamper and left the room before rolling to sit at the edge of my bed.

"Well, you sick fuck, are you happy now?" I asked my deflated firehose. I sighed, knowing that she never was. Still, a little retail therapy would be the perfect way to recover what remained of the afternoon, and treating Mom to a smoothie would be the least I could do to thank her for milking me.

*******

Being a 19-year-old girl with a fat, juicy cock had its challenges, but having a mother like mine made it manageable. Hell, sometimes it was even fun.

"How about this one, Tori?" she said, holding up a short maroon number with crisp pleats and an elastic hem. "It's cute, right?"

"Ooooh! I like!" I replied.

She smiled proudly. She liked feeling like she knew what I liked, and what I was into. I was lucky in that regard; my friends always complained that their parents were so out of touch and that they didn't 'get' them like my Mama did. I was a lucky girl.

"Wanna try it on?" She asked.

I nodded enthusiastically, accepting the skirt and making for the changing rooms, Mom in tow.

"Do you think you need a new computer?" she said from the other side of the door. "Or is yours still okay?"

I thought for a minute before I replied, wriggling out of my loose-fitting cargo pants with some effort. "Uh, I don't know. I think mine is still okay, to be honest. I haven't had any problems with it."

Mom hummed, obviously deep in thought as she likely scrolled through back-to-school deals on her phone. I caught sight of my mirrored reflection as I turned to pluck the skirt off the stool, appreciating the results of my hard work on the bike and elliptical that summer. Not necessarily toned, but tight in the places that mattered to me. I was proud of the girl standing in the mirror across from me. She was cute. She was happy.

She had several inches of flaccid cock meat stuffed in her panties and between her ass cheeks.

I chuckled at that last thought. It had taken some getting used to when I first learned how to tuck myself effectively, but the feeling of having a squishy sausage folded up between my cheeks had become so familiar to me that anything else almost felt a little too free. Still, it was a lot of dick, and my favorite lacey black thong hardly kept up its end of the bargain. In truth, I really needed to replace the thing with something more practical when I left the house. Nobody liked flopping free in the middle of the mall.

"How's it fit, hon?" Mom asked through the door.

I smoothed the front against myself and turned to check my angles. It worked. It really worked.

"I love it! I think we have a keeper!" I opened the door enough to let Mom see through the crack and got a 'not bad, kid' expression in return. "I obviously wouldn't wear it with a cropped tank like this, but I think it's super cute."

"Well, what are we waiting for then? Let's make it happen, captain!"

"You're a goof," I laughed, shutting the door again to change back into my pants.

"Yeah, but you love me," Mom quipped. "I think we need to hit up Victoria's Secret or something too; I threw a few of your bras away this week, they were getting a little ratty looking."

"Mom! I wondered where my nude one had gotten off to!"

"The nude one? Oh! That one! No, I didn't throw that one out; it's in my drawer. Sorry. I accidentally folded it away with my stuff. But it needs to go!"

"No! I love that one!" I retorted, dropping the skirt to the floor around my ankles.

"Baby, come on. It's too small! You're up a cup, I know it! We'll have one of the girls at the store measure you. I don't think C's are working for you anymore!"

There it was. That's all it took. The trigger. The thought of some busty little thing wrapping her tape around my chest, getting all up in my space, touching me so softly, her body pressed against mine...

I twitched, the thinly bundled lump in my panties bouncing abruptly. Blinking hard, I tried to focus, but the damage was already being done.

"Mama..." I said softly.

"Oh shoot! Baby, I'm so sorry. Oh God! Not here."

With a heady rush of dizzy desperation swiftly overtaking me, I reached down to tug the lace front of my flimsy thong aside, letting my cock unfurl from its nestled hideaway. "Bag," I slurred simply, plunking down on the stool in the little cubicle's corner.

"Do you need help?" Mom asked, genuine concern and guilt evident in her query. I could hear her rustling in her purse even over the low roar of white noise that always came with an episode like this.

"Just a bag," I reiterated drowsily, reaching down to start rubbing my insistent meat.

"Here baby," Mom said, offering a wrapped condom through the slim crack in the door. I smiled weakly as I saw she'd torn a little rip into the packaging with her teeth for me, just to get me started. She was such a sweetheart. I could just imagine her looking both ways to make sure nobody caught sight of her nibbling at the corner of a comically oversized condom wrapper.

I took it from her swiftly, cursing the numbness in my fingertips as each heartbeat drove more and more blood into my engorged excuse for a cock. I fumbled the greasy latex over my tip and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed with relief, as I rolled the thing down. It was a close call, but all I had to do now was pump the load out and move on with my day.

"I'm here if you need anything, babe," Mom offered anxiously. I knew she'd beat herself up over this, but it wasn't her fault; it was just a fact of my life. Anything at all was liable to set me off, or get me off.

"Thanks, Mama," I replied breathily, fiddling with my phone to bring up some encouragement. Truthfully, I was past the point of needing any visual aids, and the one hand I was massaging myself with felt pretty great on its own - I let my phone fall to the floor and opted to take myself in a two-fisted grip. This wouldn't take long.

It never did, not anymore. Ever since Mom had taken over some of my needs last year, I'd trained myself to cum almost prematurely. It was more satisfying and effective to take my time, and let myself get really nice and worked up, but jacking off a meaty pole of throbbing girlcock in a store's changing room didn't leave much room for being picky.

"Ahhh," I moaned, trying in vain to keep quiet as my legs spread themselves wide of their own volition. I knew Mom would be keeping a lookout outside the door, frantically watching for anyone who might overhear her precious daughter beating her cock into submission behind the thinly slatted door. "Close," I mumbled for her benefit.

"Let it all out, honey," she whispered back, anxious to know that I was in the clear.

Like a true Mommy's girl, I obeyed immediately.

Bodily convulsing in what must have looked like someone vomiting in reverse, my body employed every muscle available to disgorge the goopy load I'd managed to replenish in the scant hour since we'd left the house. The tip of the condom swelled rapidly, ballooning heavily with each spurting jet. Bulging with a concerning volume of my hot jizz, the tip began to droop like a fat, pregnant udder from the tip of my lethal weapon.

"Ho...holy fuck," I breathed, swallowing hard as I leaned my head forward precariously, blinking the foggy delirium away. I held my beat stick upright in both hands still, gathering my senses back so that I could unfurl the plasticky sleeve I'd just filled.

"All good, sweets?" Mom asked.

"All good, Mama," I replied breathlessly, peeling the condom off carefully.

"Big one?"

I looked at my perverted little water balloon, holding the length of it in my fist to gauge the volume of my deposit. "Kinda. Looks like four or five hundred mills at least."

The door cracked open again and Mom slipped into the room; I held the dangerously overfull sack up for her consideration.

"Hmm," she mused, reaching around to unzip her handbag. "We'll check it at home. It shouldn't be that much if you've already cum twice."

I nodded in agreement; it was unusual for me to make a load like this one in the middle of the day - I'd usually expect far more first thing in the morning, or if I was lazy about getting myself off thoroughly enough, but I'd already had a good day.

Knotting the length of latex tightly, then once more for good measure, I dropped the warm sack of nut into Mom's outheld bag. With a cheeky wink and a wry smile, she zipped the thing up sharply. She always found it amusing to walk around with a half liter of my cum in her bag. She was like a big kid sometimes.

"Come on skippy, let's get out of here. Still want the skirt?"

I laughed as I spotted the forgotten bundle of fabric on the floor. "Yeah, if that's alright. Do you mind paying while I go sit on the bench outside?"

"You go ahead, cutie, I'll just be a minute."

I tucked myself back into place and treated myself to a little ass wiggle in the mirror while I pulled my pants over my hips. My heart was still racing, and I was admittedly sensitive still, but I felt relieved nonetheless.

I thought I was safe. I should have been safe.

"Hey, honey bun!" Mom said cheerily as she stepped out of the store, spotting me on a bench nearby. Recognizing my slack-jawed, glassy-eyed expression and the exceptionally fat ass that my predatory gaze tracked across the mall's hallway, Mom leaped into action like my own personal superheroine.

"Mama..." I whispered, pleading in panic.

"Oh, baby," she huffed, bustling over.

The stringy thong, hardly substantial enough to warrant the name, strained to its limits under my pants.

"Bathroom, over there. Come on."

Bundling our shopping bags in front of my waist in case twelve dollars of strap and lace finally gave out, Mom guided me across the tile floor by my shoulders. 80 feet felt like a mile, my shuffling gait compromised by my complete inability to tear my eyes away from the doughy Latina ass that had caught my eye as she sauntered past.

"In here, come on," I heard Mom say from a thousand miles away. The *twang* of snapped string holding my erection at bay finally announced my favorite underwear's failure.

All of a sudden I was standing in front of a toilet. Mom's arm was wrapped around my waist to hold me up, her other hand jacking me off awkwardly from behind. My head lolled heavily, my cock aching for yet another greedy release. Precum flung off my spongey head, splattering against the tile backsplash behind the toilet. Mom's whispered encouragement anchored me in place, lovingly delivered right into my ear as she nestled her chin on my shoulder.

"Come on, baby girl, it's okay. It's okay, baby. Let's get it all out now, okay? All the messy stickies, let's get them out. Okay? Can you do that for Mommy? Hey? Can you give Mommy your gooey stickies? Come on baby, let Mama have them. Show Mama who's a big girl. Come on, baby."

I knew I was drooling down my chin, but I couldn't find the motivation or coordination to do anything about it. Mom had tugged my waistband down just enough to free my aching cock, and I watched a streamer of saliva plummet from my lips to connect with Mom's pistoning fist. Well, almost a fist; it wasn't the kind of cock you could actually wrap a hand all the way around. I wrapped a hand up behind my head to get a grip of Mama's hair.

"Feels good, Mama," I moaned in bovine appreciation.

"Yes, baby, I know. I know it feels good. Come on, give Mama your cummies now, hey? Let them all out sweetie."

I moaned like a barnyard animal as the treacherous behemoth in Mom's hands spewed its fourth fragrant load of the day. Mom was a strong lady, both physically and in the other ways you'd need to be to jack your own daughter off in a mall toilet; she managed to keep me upright as I blasted salty ribbons of seedy jizz into the tepid toilet water.

"Gooood girl," Mom praised, "that's my good girl. All the stickies out, let's go."

Again, my vision returned to me slowly, my hearing clarifying, and the strength returning to my legs. Mom panted against my back, the effort of holding me up and stroking obviously having tired her out. Nonetheless, she held me fast and kissed my cheek lovingly before letting me go. Clumping streamers of congealed cum twisted and cured slowly in the toilet water while I watched.

"Let's get out of here, hey? We need to call Dr. Niko."

"Niko, yeah," I whispered. I panted softly, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Gosh darn it," Mom said as I left the stall after her.

"What's the matter?"

Laughing in spite of herself, Mom turned in answer, lifting a horrifically goopy cell phone from her purse with a finger and thumb alone. "I think the condom broke in my purse."

We laughed loudly at the insanity of our day, promising to order the rest of my back-to-school clothes, and a new purse for Mom, as soon as we got home.

*******

It had to be late. Or early. Either way, two things were plainly true; my mouth was dry and my cock was hard. I'd need to take care of both.

"You greedy little bitch," I groaned, tossing the covers back. My stiff girlmeat stood at attention, bobbing in the air in time with my heartbeat. Had I not been utterly relaxed and asleep in bed, a hard-on like this one would have sent me down like a lead balloon. "Let's go then."

I stroked myself lazily, taking my time with things. A fat glob of precum welled up in a shiny pearl that caught the green light of my alarm clock. It was actually kind of cute; I snatched my phone off the nightstand to take a quick snap. I had nobody to show it to, but it was good to document these things. For science, or whatever.

"Why were you misbehaving today, hmm? You gave Mom quite a lot of trouble, little lady!"

My cock's only reply was to twitch in my grip.

"Fair enough, you great bastard." Pelaton be damned, milking the thing five or six times a day was more than enough cardio to keep me thin.

I leaned back into my pillow, one hand behind my head, and closed my eyes, willing myself into the kind of happy daydream you could lose yourself in. Big, girly tits danced like sugarplums through my mind, and gymnasts with their tight little leotards somersaulted over and off of each other's fat, round asses. Tall ones, short ones, young ones, old ones, even one or two that bore a passing resemblance to...

"No, not that one," I insisted. "Too personal. Uh uh."

The vision vanished as I massaged my own silky ejaculate up, down, and over myself, the room filling with the wet squelches of my self-pleasure. My thin cotton tee was cool against my skin, but I slipped a hand up under the shirt to grab at my own tit greedily. Pinching your own nipple isn't as fun as having someone else do it, but it would have to suffice.

"Come on, baby, work with me here," I groaned, leaning into the rising tide of tense sensitivity. "Don't make me suck you."

It was an empty threat; I sucked myself often, and thoroughly loved doing so, but the idea of a salty tummy full of my own cum wasn't hitting right at the moment. So I stroked on.

"Yes."

"Oh, fuck. Come on."

"Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme!"

Forgetting to snatch a towel off the floor, I pointed the twitching rod toward the space between my toes and positively ruined my bedding. Wave after wave of the stinking stuff filled the room with its acrid chlorine stench, and the little voice in my head chastised me for unloading all over my freshly washed sheets.

Still, it was a mess worth making. Flicking my tip against the corner of my duvet and smearing the last drops in a fistful of sheet, I popped up out of bed to fulfill my second need: water.

"Ugh, I needed that," I told my cock as we set off for the kitchen. As she did sometimes, she was taking her sweet time going back down. Oh well, who doesn't have busy days once in a while?

Sipping a cup of cold water from the fridge, my finally-flaccid dick still flopping out of my little sleeping undies, I squinted into the dark living room. Mama had left her laptop open before she went to bed. Being a total sweetheart, I knew I ought to shut it down for her.

That's all I should have done.

"What's this," I mumbled to myself as I perched at the edge of the couch to do a little bit of good old-fashioned snooping.

An email from Dr. Niko. He *was* my doctor. I should be allowed to see.

"In reply to your call today, I must impress upon you the urgency of Tori's condition; it doesn't seem that her self-directed masturbation is having almost any meaningful effect on her symptoms. Obviously, your own efforts have been much more successful in keeping Tori's levels of arousal under control, but this type of relationship is...well, unconventional to say the least. You know as well as I do that the key to Tori's condition being kept in check is the QUALITY of her release, which must naturally take into account duration, technique, setting, and (of course) who she's in the company of. Given what you mentioned finding on her phone when you tried to relieve her in the washroom today, I think it's obvious where young Tori's mind goes...you! Please Audrey, you and I both know that Tori needs a partner, a real partner, to relieve her properly. Digital relief is all well and good, but she may well be tempted toward further depravity than what the two of you are currently engaged in. You cannot deny that Tori's production has increased, as has the frequency of her emissions. I'm going to keep some time open in my schedule tomorrow; please, if you can, get to my office for 10:00am. Just you."