Vicky, bemused by the sight of her son’s half-nakedness took a blink and squirmed inwardly, but quickly acquiesced in his proposition with nothing more than a sigh and a shrug. Donny glanced up to see his mother reaching behind her neck clumsily for the zipper of her dress, her hands trembling with nervous energy. She quickly gave up, spun around, and submitted to practicality.
“Unzip me…quick!” said Vicky frantically. Donny, with briefs now halfway down his legs and a towel in one hand, took a gulp and let go of both towel and briefs in order to reach for his mother’s zipper. She’s facing the other way, don’t worry, he thought. An inexplicably odd sensation stirred within his gut, and it had nothing to do with digestion: there he was in a musty changeroom stall, stark naked behind his mother as she waited impatiently for him to unzip her dress.
Do I unzip it all the way down? What if she turns around and sees me like this?!, thought Donny in a panic.
Donny took a deep breath and unzipped his mother’s dress from the nape to her middle back as she bobbed up and down on her toes restlessly. The stubborn zip required a firm tug, and in the process Donny’s hanging penis swung forward and slapped back against the furry surface of his inner thigh with an audible fleshy thwack. The sound caught Vicky’s ear, but she paid it no mind as she was primarily concerned about the men outside.
“All the way down?” asked Donny sheepishly as the zipper braced itself on the precipice of his mother’s bra. Vicky knew her strap would soon be visible to Donny, but at this point she didn’t care. It’s just my bra, she reassured herself.
“Yes, yes, go go..,” she urged. And so the zipper crinkled it’s way down his mother’s back, revealing her remarkably supple, pale white skin, divided at the equator by a delicate pink strap of fabric. Donny blinked and rubbed the sweat from his eyes as a subtle whisk of air signaled the unexpected rotation of his mother’s body. She had turned to face Donny, clutching at her chest to conceal it. Donny hadn’t the time nor the awareness to cover himself up, and so Vicky unintentionally copped an eyeful of her son’s genitals.
In a fright, Vicky sprang back in shock; it was as if she’d been accosted by a mugger in a dark alleyway, her hands reflexively retracted to form a defensive posture. Her bulbous breasts made a dip toward her navel before swelling outward and coming to rest slightly displaced from her center.
Donny’s eyes also found themselves the victim of instinct, instantaneously leading his gaze toward his mother’s breasts, which he glimpsed threatening to overflow their pink constraints, swaying heavily atop her soft belly.
“Donny, what the fuck!?” squawked Vicky, wrangling her attention away from the dangling mass between her son’s legs.
“I had the towel covering me up but…my hands were full and I…you turned around so quick and I..,” stammered Donny, raising his voice just beyond a hush. In attempting to excuse his predicament, both Donny’s hands were occupied wholly by the gestures of his plea, and so he neglected to cover up the very thing responsible for the current dilemma.