Mom's Healing Tongue and the Flames of Adaptation
I lay there, lifting my head to look at Mom. The tips of her massive, jiggling breasts hovered precariously at the edge of my vision. She's hard. Mom's nipples were fully erect. Her skimpy top barely covered them, doing nothing to hide the stiff peaks that poked out prominently. Mom's turned on too. It wasn't just me getting excited in this situation. It might seem trivial, but it eased the guilt weighing on me a little. Of course, it didn't hide my own erection's embarrassment. With a sliver of relief, I turned my head to the side, desperately trying to think of other things.
Lick. Lick. Lick. Lick. In the quiet forest, the only sound was Mom's tongue gliding softly over her son's body. Every pass of her hot, velvety tongue sent intense shivers through me, driving me to the brink of madness. Lust is truly terrifying. My cock had become hypersensitive. Even in this state, Mom's tongue kept exploring new spots, venturing lower. I give up. I was rock-hard, and the leather panties were lifted upward by the sheer force of it. At least the tip was curled back enough that my glans hadn't popped out—small mercies. With no way to escape this, I resigned myself and lay still.
Lick. Lick. Lick. Lick. After licking down to my abs, Mom's tongue now trailed between my thighs. Strands of her hair, cascading down, brushed busily against my glans. Just a touch from her hair sent a sharp jolt through me, followed by my cock swelling even more with a heavy throb. In the aftermath, my glans slipped right over the top of the panties. Oh god—I want to die. This is mortifying.
Mom was bent over, licking my body. My glans was thrust out right in front of her face. Shame burned through me, turning my whole body beet red. But Mom said nothing. She just quietly kept licking. Mom, I'm sorry. I can't help this—it's just a natural reaction. She'd caused my erection, even exposed my glans. I felt terrible toward my mom, Oh Mijin. Yet she accepted this pathetic son of hers without a word, pretending not to notice and putting on a bright face for my sake.
"Son, all done. If anything hurts, just tell Mom. I'll heal it all with this tongue. Hehe."
She flicked her tongue playfully, flashing an innocent smile—my utterly harmless Mom. Looking at her, I felt both adorable affection and deep guilt.
Night was falling. By now, Mom and I had mapped a solid 35.8% of the area. Not bad, but the result was hunger. Grumble. Grumble. Grumble. After moving all day, my stomach was screaming. And it wasn't just me—Mom's belly was rumbling too.
"I'm starving, Mom. We need to eat something."
"Yeah, we can't keep going like this, son."
No animals in sight in this forest—just trees, grass, and fruit. My eyes naturally drifted to the apple-like fruits hanging from the branches.
"Mom, think it's safe to eat those apple-looking ones?"
"They seem okay, but... you know all ingredients have some toxicity, right?"
"Yeah, I've heard that. The stuff we eat has overcome that somehow. Right?"
"Yep. So... Mom'll try first. I'm the healer, after all."
Letting Mom risk it first felt wrong. I hesitated.
"Son, you're the warrior. I'm the healer. We should stick to our roles, don't you think?"
She had a point. I couldn't argue.
"Okay, Mom. You first."
"Aigoo, you're such a good boy when you listen."
She playfully nudged my shoulder, beaming like I was the cutest thing.
"How old do you think I am...? This is embarrassing."
"Embarrassed? What're you gonna do about it? I'm your mom."
"..."
Sons don't win arguments with moms. I shook my head in mock protest and approached the tree, jumping energetically to pluck the lowest-hanging apple-like fruit.
"Ow."
I hadn't noticed before—thorns surrounded the fruit. I got properly pricked while grabbing it.
"Son! You okay?"
Mom rushed over, worried.
"Yeah, didn't see the thorns."
To show her it was nothing, I held out my stabbed finger. My index finger was bleeding a bit.
Slurp.
The moment she saw the blood, Mom popped it straight into her mouth and sucked on it with her tongue. Am I beyond saving? She was just worried and healing me. But watching those red lips around my finger, I naturally imagined them sucking my cock. The fantasy felt so real that even her sucking my finger made my dick tingle.
"My tongue's amazing, huh? The wound's already gone."
She was right. Her saliva had sealed the tiny puncture instantly. Even if the thorns were problematic, her healing made me feel safe.
"Let's eat now, Mom."
The wound was fixed. I handed her the freshly picked red, apple-like fruit.
"I'm so hungry I can't hold back. Mom'll go first."
Starving, she bit in without hesitation.
"Mmm. Like apples but crunchier, super sweet. Verdict: delicious fruit."
She devoured it eagerly.
"Son, I think it's safe. Mind picking more?"
"You sure? Think it through."
"I am. Trust your mom!"
Her hunger had spiked with the first taste—eyes full of longing. Seeing no issue, I started picking in earnest, careful of the thorns this time. I handed her the ripest ones. If safe, we wouldn't worry about food while mapping.
"This is seriously good. They'd sell out at the mart."
She praised it between bites, clearly loving it. I watched quietly.
"Ahh, full belly—feels like I can live again."
Satisfied, she leaned against a big tree to rest. Watching her eat had intensified my own hunger, but I held back, planning to eat once I confirmed she was fine.
"Son, no problems at all. Eat up."
No stomachache for her—just satisfaction.
"Got it. My turn."
"Yeah, fill that belly, son."
I bit into one. Crunchy and sweet, just like she said. So good my reason slipped—I wolfed them down.
"So full... sleepy now."
Food coma hitting Mom, understandably after walking all day.
"Mom, let's crash over there."
No fire-starting skills or energy in this forest, and night was closing in. I suggested the least chilly spot.
"There? Looks good."
She approved of the indented nook under a slope. We settled in side by side. Night brought chill, so sharing body heat was a godsend.
"Look at the sky. Moon here too."
She pointed up.
"Yeah, this planet has a satellite."
"Son, I just made a wish on that moon."
"Cool."
"Not curious what?"
"Sorry, not really."
"Why? Spill."
"Wherever we are, probably wishing to get home safe."
"Tch. A guy with sense pretends not to know. You're still green."
"Am I?"
"Totally!"
We chatted idly until sleep overtook me. Mom dozed off first—her breathing changed sooner.
It was hot. Burning, suffocating hot. "Ugh... ugh." My body churned out fever. My gut twisted in agony. I clenched my teeth, enduring. Best I could do—no hospital, no pharmacy. In the Tower, you just tough it out. I groaned quietly alone as the pain dragged on. Not getting better at all. The gut-wrenching torment wouldn't subside. I was miserable.
"Son... hurting?"
Mom woke. My groans must've disturbed her.
"...Yeah. Body feels wrong."
"Wh-where? How?"
Tears welled in her eyes as she asked.
"Gut's killing me especially, and I'm burning up more."
"The apples... think it's from those?"