Chapter 8

The forum bonded mothers met at Jean’s apartment a week later. They had skipped a couple weeks, Carol and Holly making excuses.

Oscar had begged his mother to bring him along. He promised that he and Race wouldn’t bother them. Carol chided herself for relenting. She had become far to lenient with her youngest son. Jean accepted Carol’s request on the condition that the boys went to a nearby park, which Race and Oscar quickly agreed to.

Free from any of their sons, the women sipped their coffees and nibbled on scones and croissants. Holly and Carol spoke of dull, little things in their lives, insurance premiums and snooty neighbors. Jean worried that she had done something wrong. “Carol, didn’t you have a check-up appointment with Dr. Vassarkik, this week?”

“Um, yes. I rescheduled it for next week.” Carol Hughes had been mentally kicking herself for succumbing to Oscar’s sexual needs. At home she could distract herself from shame, with plenty of tasks, but the purpose of this mom threesome was to discuss their boys’ condition. She glanced at Holly who abruptly avoided her eyes.

Holly was beside herself with guilt. She’d actually seduced her son into full sexual intercourse! He hadn’t even been hurting very much, which added to the weight crushing her conscience. She’d thought about turning herself into the police. Talking to a shrink would landed her in jail all the same.

“Is the coffee that bad?” Jean asked louder than was polite. Fuck polite. “Why is it like a morgue in here?” She slapped her hand on the table!

Holly lurched in her seat. Carol spilled a little coffee down the side of her cup. The women clammed up. Jean’s eyes darted from one trembling mother to the next. “What have I done to stifle you two wonderful people?”

“It’s not your fault, Jean.” Holly whispered. “I-I don’t think our plan to keep the boys apart is working.” In addition to her incest driven guilt, she had abandoned Jean’s Race to painful enlargment at the medical center. It was the closest thing to a confession that Holly could allow.

Carol surprised her with a word. “Fuck.” Oscar’s mother set down her coffee and stared at their host. “Jean, two weeks ago, I got silly with Oscar. I-I did pretty much what you might imagine.”

Jean could imagine Carol doing an unlimited variety things, but she assumed her friend meant that she had sucked off her son. Jean immediately reassessed her private activities with Race. In the last two weeks, she had gone from letting the boy suckle her while he masturbated, to where she was masturbating him on their couch. Except there wasn’t anything silly about it. She told her son very clearly what she would and would not do, and he agreed without a hint of frivolity.

“Arnold-” Holly began but halted herself. She looked at her lap, her fingers tying themselves in knots there.

“Holly?” Carol probed as gently as she could. “You don’t have to tell us anything.”

“GODS!!” Holly Michaels burst. “I FUCKED HIM!” Her heart beat tears out of her eyes. The weight on it was cast out from her soul. If she couldn’t tell these wonderful, caring, and similarly compromised women, Holly would have died of old age burdened by the immense shame of having seduced her teenage son.

“Good.” Jean struck her fist on the cheap table. She nodded decisively.

“It’s terrible, Jean!” Holly wailed. “I didn’t let him take me. I lured him into intercourse. It wasn’t to cure anything. I wanted him!”

“Good!” Carol slapped the table, rattling her cup and saucer. Her shame for getting silly with Oscar fled. Carol smirked at her confessing friend. “It’s not like you were getting dick from your absent husband.”

“Carol.” Jean admonished. “That’s neither here nor there, or any of our business. But I’m glad that one of us broke humanity’s strictest rule.”

Two women looked at Jean as if she had turned into crocodile.

“Last week, I started jerking off Race’s dick. I told myself as long as I was in control it would be okay. I was doing it for the samples. Honestly, to help the research effort.” Jean turned to Holly and frowned. “I’m so sorry, Holly, for accusing you of neglecting my son’s pain. I understand now.” She reached out a hand. “We must do whatever we can to help our boys.”

Holly shook her head at the proffered hand. “I don’t deserve your kindness, Jean. Didn’t you hear me? I fucked my boy to satisfy selfish lust!”

“Good!” Carol repeated. “Holly, stop kicking yourself! If what happened to you was anything like what triggered me, IT - IS - NOT - YOUR - FAULT.” Carol offered her hand. “Try to imagine me and and Oscar pretending to be birds and bees under any normal circustance.”

Holly straightned in her chair. She couldn’t imagine it. However sexually endowed and motivated, Carol excelled at being in control of her desires. She expressed them in safe if socially unacceptable ways - like her penchance for sexual snarks. Holly sniffed back her tears and admitted. “W-we were pretending to be pirates.” A laugh escaped her, and she spread her arms to accept two hands into hers across the table. Love and trust poured out from her friends and warmed Holly like twin suns.

The three shared tears for a moment, Jean and Carol linking hands to complete their circle.

Oscar and Race giggled like crazy while returning to the apartment. After creating a ‘gift’ for Ms. Peralta, they kept getting sidetracked by simple park amusements like swings and monkey bars and slides. Prepubescent boys and girls and their mothers and nannys stared at the teenagers acting like children on the playground. Open air and a cool breeze saved the adult women from being affected by their pheromones.

The sun was sinking towards the horizon when Race and Oscar re-entered the Peralta apartment. “Where’s Mommy?” Oscar only saw Ms. Peralta.

“I told your mother, I would drive you home when you were ready.”

“Mommy! I made you a gift!” Race fished into his backpack and pulled out a vase. Some of the stones that kept the fake flower upright had spilled into his pack, and several petals had frayed. The stem was bent at an angle.

“It’s lovely, my dear boy.” Jean kissed her son’s cheek. She set the flower on a small table by the door.

“Why did they leave?” Oscar felt somewhat abandonded.

“You two took forever, and neither of you have a phone. I told them I would take responsibility. That’s how much your mommy and I trust you, Oscar.” Jean patted the pouting teen’s head. Too early for any affects from their pheromones, Jean played along with their obvious age regression as a conscious decision. “Are you hungry?”

“YEAH!” Both boys shouted.

She led them into the kitchen and stood them at the table where their mothers had reached an encompassing, consensual decision. Instead of coffee cups and saucers, two small canning jars sat upon it, their lids beside them. “Now before you sit, let’s play a quick little game.”

“Ok.”

“Sure!”

“Um, what game?”

Jean surprised them. “It’s called, ‘Who has the biggest balls!’” She grabbed the waistband of her sweatpants and pushed them down over her taut buttocks. Halfway down her thighs, she let go of them and hunched her naked, hairy camel toe forward. “See! Mommy doesn’t have any balls at all.”

Her son and Oscar didn’t hesitate to tug down their pants, despite their slack jaws at Jean’s astonishing, pussy reveal. They were equally, half naked in a flash. “Look at mine, Mommy!”

“No, mine, Auntie Jean!” Oscar blurted.

“I can see both of your big sacks, boys.” Jean studied their genitals. Neither boy had an erection. That was interesting, and their balls were normal sized for them, twice that of boys their age. She hummed short notes as she pretended to evaluate the big sacks for the game she had chosen.

“I’m bigger.” Oscar declared.

“No. I am!” Race hoped his mother would choose him because he was her son. Screw fairness. However, in fairness, Race was half a year older than Oscar, and his balls were slightly larger, but you’d have to actually measure them for the difference.

“I’m sorry, boys, but I guess I lost. Your balls are so big, I can’t tell which of you wins. So by the rules, you both win!”

“Yay!” the boys shouted and high fived. Their soft dicks and bulging testicals bounced.

“What do we win, Auntie?” Oscar wanted a prize.

“You win me!” Jean grabbed the hem of her sweat shirt and in less time it took to push down her pants, she pulled the shirt over her head and off of her arms. The lean woman’s naked tits enticed like large, hanging mangoes. “That is, unless you want supper.” She pushed her pants to the floor and stepped spritely out of them.

Two soft penises twitched, slowly gaining life. “I want you, Mommy.”

“Me too, Auntie!”

Jean didn’t have to bend her knees much to accept the boys into her arms. Their mouths immediately latched on to her soft nipples. They were soft because Jean was pretending. Her real goal was to observe the boys’ dicks and balls as their arousal grew.

Pretending didn’t stop her from grunting when two pairs of lips teased and sucked on her tits, nor did it stop her from enjoying the sensation. The women had resolved to shed all cares about what happened while they worked to learn every aspect of their sons’ unique sexual traits. Yet lingering guilt intimidated Holly and Carol. They asked Jean to take first crack at learning what she could.

“Gosh, boys. That feels so good, you’re making me think that I won.” Jean relaxed her arms around them and reached down between her body and theirs. She felt their growing dicks and hefted their scrotums. Their huge balls hadn’t yet enlarged.

“Mommy, are you going to jack me off?” Race swung wide eyes up at her.

“Is that what you want?” Jean felt her son’s dick lurch against her wrist. His balls got slightly warmer.

“Will you suck me, Auntie?” Oscar pleaded. His genitals reacted similarly.

Jean prayed that she would remember what she was learning before the enevitable effects of their clashing pheromones kicked in. She feared that when she inevitably succumbed to their playful regression, delight would wash her memory away.

“I wanna get sucked!” Race whined. He wanted at least what Oscar wanted.

“Now now, Race. Oscar is your guest. You should let him go first.” Jean kissed her son’s forehead. “Mommy promises to make it up to you later.” It was a promise she had made to him before and had delivered on. Her left hand reached out for his bulging scrotum.

“Oh-kaay.” Race pouted, but he really liked it when his mom’s hand slid up from his heavy sack to his growing stem.

Jean bent her knees until they touched the hard, cold tiles of her kitchen’s floor. It was littlest of sacrifices she would make that evening. She got a close view of their half-mast erections. Their balls were starting to enlarge, Jean thought, but the growth was too subtle to be sure.

Ms. Peralta opened her mouth and licked the underside of Oscar’s prickhead, the most sensitive spot on a penis. His balls throbbed in her hand, and his dick twitched so hard its head bumped her lips. Jean swallowed the tip of his cock without thinking. She knew then, she was starting to lose control.

Oscar moaned. “Oooohhhh, Auntie.”

Beside her, Race also groaned. Her hand pumped faster along his stiffening pole. Jean licked and sucked the tip of Oscar’s dick. She had wanted to feel his testicles’ reaction to stimulation at just the tip, but her head started bobbing on its own accord, sucking the boy’s four, semi-hard inches into her mouth. Oscar’s hips lurched, and his balls expanded like a heart which beat larger but without a shrinking downbeat. The surprising sensation in her hand thrilled Jean.

Oscar moaned happily without a hint of pain in his voice. He reached down and began to fondle Auntie’s double C breasts. She grunted on the dick in her mouth. Sh grunted again when her son’s hand groped her other tit and nipple.

Her hand worked fervently on Race’s growing peter. She paused briefly to grip his balls, hoping he would think that she was pleasuring them in addition his cock. His groan of delight signaled his appreciation. His balls were only slightly larger than before her handjob.

The strong smell of the boys’ sweaty groins made Jean wish she had a third hand. Her pussy was creaming with fluids in prepartion for what nature had evolved it to expect. It was tougher to think clearly. Before Jean lost the chance to compare, she pulled her head off of Oscar’s nearly hard prick. “You boys have to share.” She told them and promply gobbled up her son’s cock, keeping her hand on Race’s balls. After only a few sucking bobs of her head. Her son’s scrotum stretched noticably from its enlarging contents.

Sexual stimulation was key. The more the boys were stimulated, the quicker their balls grew. Jean prayed that she would remember her important discovery. One of Jean’s last deliberate efforts was to return to Oscar’s cock and focus her mouth’s attentions on it. She wanted to see what would happen if the boys were stimulated unequally. So much for sharing. She even slowed her hand on Race’s erection.

If Race felt cheated, he didn’t complain. Later, Jean would learn that her son was fantasizing about fucking her, while her hand jerked on his happy prick. When his balls continued to enlarge at the same rate as Oscar’s, Jean worried that she had been wrong about her orginal discovery. Soon after that disappointment, Jean lost all worries. She began alternating whom she pleasured orally, switching sucking mouth from dick to dick. She slurped and gurgled all over them. Her hands were put to better use, stroking the other boy’s spit slicked, full hardness. Occasionally she would pat or squeeze their enormous testicles. She wanted to get fucked so badly, but a small part of her pheromone drugged mind resisted the induced urge.

“Mommy?” Arnold grunted. She was in the middle of switching her head to Oscar’s slightly shorter but jutting four plus inches. “My balls kinda hurt.” They didn’t ache much but were worth playing for sympathy.

“Oh no!” Jean looked up at her son, worried. She glanced to her right. “How are you feeling, Oscar?”

“GREAT!” The younger boy was hugging himself, delirious from the alternating sensation of getting sucked and jacked. His prick had trobbed hotly in her mouth and in her hand.

Jean assured her son, “Mommy’s doing her best to make you cum, Honey. That’ll take the hurt away.”

Race’s pain increased slightly as his balls stretched the flesh of their confines. At the same time, the incredible pleasures from his mother’s hands and mouth and lips and tongue kept his overall suffering in check. In fact, his aching testes seemed to multiply the good feelings from his mother’s fervent action. “Make me cum, Mommy.” He begged.

“Me too, Auntie!” Oscar mewled.

A giggle tickled Jean’s throat. They were so silly! She thought. “I will.” Jean promised, after sucking her guest’s pecker one last time. “But you have to play one last game.”

“What?”

“Who can fill the most of their jar?” Jean turned her head to indicate the glassware on the table. Each boy grabbed a jar. Jean grabbed both dicks and stroked their shafts while she kissed and licked their stretched sacks. Her tongue felt that Oscar’s scrotum was a little more pliable than her son’s. Was that why he wasn’t in pain? Did it matter? Jean’s mind was mostly eager to make the two young cocks shoot a fountain of cum into glass receptacles. She felt powerful over them. “Cum for Mommy, Race. Oscar, cum for Auntie.” Jean cooed and moaned like she was about to orgasm. How she wished they would make her cum!

“Oooh, Mommy- I think- I think I’m close-”

“Auntie, keep licking me! It feels so goood!”

Their pricks tensed up in Jean’s hand. The boys, knowing their signs, placed the jars at their pee holes.

Jean’s hands flashed swiftly. The saliva she had left on their pricks let her hands stroke fast without scorching them. “Auntie Mommy wants you to cum hard, sweeties. Can you do that for me?”

Oscar squealed like a little boy who unwrapped a present and found his favorite toy! His dick lurched in his Auntie’s hand. The muscles wrapping his seminal bulb clenched like vice-grips, shooting his first load out through his meat whistle. Cum blasted into the open and splattered against the bottom of his canning jar.

Beside him, Race cried out. “MOMMMYYYY!!!!” He bucked his hips, and his cannon fired a huge blob of thick cum into his well aimed receptical.

Two spurting fountains spit and spit heavy globs of pure white semen. Five, six, seven- Jean lost count, wanting desperately to suck out their beautiful cum and swallow all of it! Their cum filled the small jars up to the first mark up from the base.

“How much did you make?” Oscar had never filled so much of his jar before.

Race didn’t hear his friend. He was astonished by the thick, white fluid at the base of his jar. It had never looked like that nor had he produced so much! This cum was a miracle. “Mommy, you’re wonderful!” It had to be because of her getting all sexy with him and Oscar.

“I’m so proud of you, Race!” Jean hugged her son’s knees.

“Wow.” Oscar looked at his competitor’s jar. Both jars will filled the first line, but Race’s was just slightly over it. He was really happy for Race. When they had jacked off earlier that afternoon, Oscar had felt sorry for Race’s thin and small amount. He mixed it with his and dosed the flower, but he wondered if such weak cum would have any effect. Still, Oscar had to save face. “I bet if my mommy was sucking me, I’d cum more than you.”

Race didn’t care. He set down his jar carefully and bent forward to return his mommy’s hug.

Oscar placed his jar on the table, feeling like a winner too. Auntie Jean had sucked and jacked him to a terrific cum! He didn’t even feel left out of the hug. Soon he would be going home, and his shirt pocket held a sealed, plastic bag containing a little leftover of their earlier mix. He watched mother and son hug and kiss each other’s cheeks. Looking down, Oscar peeked at his ‘auntie’s’ naked sex. Below it, small drops of a clear fluid had leaked upon the tile floor. His tongue remembered licking his mother there and the pungent but exciting taste of her pussy juice. He wondered-