Opening the door to Henry's bedroom, Hilda observed her younger child lying on his back in bed, still sound asleep and snoring gently. Loathe to awaken him from his slumber, especially since the boy had not slept much, Hilda knelt beside his bed and just observed him breathe in and out for a few minutes, never tiring of gazing at the boy upon whom she doted and treated so indulgently. After a few minutes of this, Hilda reached out with her right hand and raised the bedclothes at the edge of the bed so that she could insinuate her left hand between the top and bottom sheets. Snaking her hand along the mattress, she could feel Henry's thigh so she adjusted her movements until she could close her hand around the object of her search, Henry's male member. Hilda giggled as she saw a tent begin to form in the bedclothes and after a few rubs from her hand, Henry's soldier was standing fully at attention. A few more strokes were enough to rouse Henry from his sleeping state. Feeling the feminine hand on his male parts, he smiled and said, "Ohhhhhhhhh, shit. Who the hell is rubbing my dick? That shit feels good as fuck."
"It's Mommy, sweetie," responded Hilda, grinning widely as her mountainous boobs pressed into the side of the mattress and she began to handle Henry's balls. "It's your big-boobied Mommy who's slapping around your cock and balls, sleepyhead."
"Rise and shine, big fucker," Hilda called out naughtily, standing slightly, her giant rack jutting out like a shelf that looked big enough to eat a Sunday dinner off of. "How's that for a fucking alarm clock? It feels like you got a steel pole down there between your legs. Hard as fuck. Tee hee."
Henry rubbed his eyes groggily, not even awake enough to fully grasp what was happening, but soon he became acutely aware of his erect penis and his mother's small hand firmly wrapped around it and still softly priming it.
"Morning, Big Tits," he said, still sounding somewhat sleepy as his eyes dropped to her substantial cleavage and outlandish bustline as she leaned over, giving him a clear look down the top of her dress and making him grow even firmer as he took in nothing but boobflesh. "Is it tug time already? My wee wee's ready."
"Very funny, Henry," she responded in her stern teacher's voice, not really angry but not exactly pleased by the sobriquet by which her son had addressed her.
"No tug this morning, baby," Hilda told him firmly, her arm, hand and grasping fingers sliding out from underneath the sheet. "We have company and breakfast is ready. Get a move on."
"But I'm tired, Mom," he responded in a whining tone of voice, his wee wee still standing straight up. "I didn't get much sleep."
"Well then, sweetie, you should have caught a few winks instead of playing with your humpstick all night," she said, giggling girlishly. "Now, no excuses. Get up."
"But Mom," Henry whined. "You can't leave me with this hard-on. That's not fair. My dick is throbbing."
"Oh, Henry," Hilda said, smiling as she patted him on the arm and then pulled the sheet back to take a look at his erection. "You are such a baby sometimes. All right, how about I let you put your big fucker between Momma's titties for a little while? But not long, mind you. I have to finish cooking breakfast."
"Gee, Mom. You're the best," Henry said enthusiastically, watching eagerly as his mother removed her dress and bra and stood before him wearing nothing but a hot pink thong.
He never ceased to be amazed by her basketball sized boobies that jiggled and bounced every time she swayed or moved. They would bob and pitch on her chest like mountains of gelatin, only firmer. They were high and proud boobs and looked like they belonged on a cartoon character instead of a real woman like Hilda. He had suckled those bountiful, bobbing breasts until he was sixteen years old and loved her delicate pink nipples and their surrounding huge pink areolas. It was only in recent years, however, that the big-bazoomed Humper had let him slip his huge wee wee between them for stimulation.
"Hurry, Mom. My wee wee is getting impatient," Henry pleaded, waving his pecker back and forth, eager and excited to put his rampant stalk between her tantalizing titan titties that hung invitingly from her perfectly sculpted body, her tiny waist making her exposed knockers look even more ridiculously large than their already circus freak size. "Holy fuck, Big Tits. Those fuckers are bigger than fucking beachballs."
"Such language, Henry. All right, baby. Momma's titties are ready for that fucking footlong trouser snake of yours," Hilda announced, supporting her massive breasts with her hands and easing them apart enough that Henry could place his eager wee wee in the chasm between them. "That's the ticket, sweetie. Slap it on in there. Bring wee wee to tee tees."
Not needing any more encouragement, Henry placed his footlong trouser snake in the valley between his mother's bulbous boobies and she in turn pressed her boobies together forming a sheath that encased his sword like a glove.
"That's the way, sweetie," Hilda coaxed him as she sandwiched his swollen dick in the loving embrace of her cleavage that had often been compared to the Grand Canyon by many men she had boobclenched in the past. "Now move your waist, baby. Slide wee wee up and down in there. That's the way, big fellow. Awww, I bet that feels good."
"Oh, shit! I can't believe this," Henry moaned in response as he began to slide slowly upward, the head of his wee wee just barely peeping out from between the tops of the twin swells of her beautiful boobage, her watermelon mounds that almost made him wonder if his wee wee had gotten lost in there. "I may have to send a search party into your cleavage to find my wee wee when I get done."
"Oh, there he is, baby," Hilda laughed at his quip as she spotted the tip of Henry's penis peek out from between her gargantuan knockers. "There's the head of your big fucker. It's so sweet, baby. It's a big, cute pee wee head."
