Jerked Off by Little Sister While Embraced by Mom's Breasts

Seven PM. The front door opened.

"Mom's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠home~."

Mom was back, her hands stuffed with plastic grocery bags. She'd gone shopping. And sure enough, she was in leggings and a crop top—just as she'd worn them to the studio, without changing. The gray leggings clung to every curve of her lower body, and below the crop top, her waist and abs were on full display. Forty-three-year-old abs. Proof positive of her Pilates instructor gig.

"What do you want for dinner tonight? I'll make it."

"Anything."

"Chaeyoung?"

"Anything for me too."

Mom paused and looked at Chaeyoung. My sister was lounging on the living room sofa in a T-shirt and shorts—the outfit she'd changed into after her shower. And she was smiling. At me. Or rather, giggling at what I'd said earlier.

"...You two have some kind of fight or something?"

"Nah, nothing happened."

I answered. Chaeyoung nodded nonchalantly too.

"Okay then?"

Mom didn't pry. Instead, she headed to the kitchen with a slight smile. Chaeyoung, who'd always been icy to her big bro, was now smiling at him. From Mom's perspective, that had to feel like a win. Even if she didn't know why. Push too hard, and prickly Chaeyoung might clam up again. So Mom let it slide.

Mom started prepping dinner in the kitchen. Fridge door opening, ingredients coming out, knife chopping on the cutting board. I plopped on the sofa, pretending to watch TV. Pretending. Every time Mom moved, those leggings stretched along her curves. When she bent to grab something from the bottom fridge drawer, her crop top rode up, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠baring her back. Taut waistline. A hint of panty line peeking above the leggings' waistband. And that ass, especially pronounced in the tight fabric.

I'd always noticed. Tried not to, but my eyes wandered anyway. I owned that. But today? It hit different. I knew why. I'd spent the day touching a woman's body. Through the Chaeyoung filter, sure, but my hands remembered the feel of soft skin, the bounce of tits in my palm.

So now, seeing Mom's body triggered it automatically. Breasts fuller than Chaeyoung's, waist springier, hips with deeper curves. She had a allure no girl our age could match. A forty-three-year-old body honed by Pilates—what could beat that for a twenty-one-year-old daughter?

"..."

No. This is Mom.

But my gaze kept drifting there anyway.

Poke.

Something jabbed my side. Chaeyoung's elbow. I turned—she was glaring at me. Her eyes flicked downward. To her shorts. The front was bulging slightly. When I got hard, the gochu attached to her reacted. I'd forgotten.

"...Sorry."

"Not 'sorry'—why the hell are you popping one now?"

She whispered. Quiet enough Mom wouldn't hear.

"It's nothing."

"Liar. You're staring at Mom, aren't you?"

"..."

Couldn't deny it. My gochu on her body was proof. She'd seen me sneaking glances at Mom from right beside me.

Chaeyoung sighed like I was pathetic. But she dropped it. Instead, she grabbed a cushion and draped it over her lap. Camouflage.

Dinner was doenjang jjigae. We three sat at the table. Mom's stew was always killer.

"Chaeyoung, you're eating a ton today."

"...Starving."

"You barely touched food yesterday. Had me worried."

"I'm fine now."

Chaeyoung glanced at me while eating, flashing a tiny smile. Mom caught it.

"Did Jun do something nice? Feed you at least?"

"...He made me ramen."

"Our Jun did?"

Mom beamed. Ramen's no big deal—I could handle that much. I ate in silence. Normal dinner. We finished, Mom did dishes. Chaeyoung hit her room first, then I went to mine. Seemed like a normal night.

Around ten. I was lying in bed scrolling my phone when the sensation hit. Rising from my lower gut. Soft, slow, familiar.

"...That little minx."

I grabbed my phone and opened Messenger.

The rhythm picked up. She was texting with one hand, stroking with the other. Classic multitasker Chaeyoung. Maybe I should go next door and stop her myself. I started to get up.

Knock knock.

Someone at my door. This late.

"Jun, it's Mom. Can we talk a sec?"

Mom. Worst timing ever.

"Uh, one sec."

I yanked the blanket to my waist. No erection to hide down there, but still. The issue was my face. Every stroke from Chaeyoung sent jolts through me.

"C-come in."

The door opened. Mom stepped in. Fresh from a shower, apparently. Leggings swapped for comfy shorts and a loose T-shirt. No bra? Her tits' outline showed through the fabric. Hair still damp.

"What, already in bed?"

"Yeah. About to sleep."

Mom sat at the foot of the bed. By my feet. She smiled softly.

"Mom's grateful to you, Jun."

"For what?"

"Chaeyoung. Hasn't eaten since yesterday, holed up in her room. I was worried sick. But today? She's scarfing food, smiling next to you."

Mom smiled warmly.

"You did something, right? Even made her ramen."

"Nothin' much."

It was plenty. But couldn't say.

"Getting Chaeyoung to open up ain't easy. Even I struggle sometimes. She hides her feelings."

"..."

"But today felt different. Relaxed around her big bro. Like old times."

If Mom knew why Chaeyoung was comfy around me, she'd faint.

"You're a good brother. I know it."

"...Mom, you're saying weird stuff. Siblings look out for each other. Normal."

Even then, the sensations kept coming. Chaeyoung's hand slowing, speeding, at her whim. Did she know my situation? Nah, probably not. No clue Mom was in my room.

The problem? Mom was right here. Fresh-showered damp hair. Tits glowing through the thin shirt. A whole different vulnerability from dinner. Chaeyoung's strokes mixed with Mom's sight. Like jerking off while watching Mom. Hell, it basically was—physically Chaeyoung, visually Mom.

That taboo thrill. Guilt crashed in. Mom's giving sweet son-talk out of worry, and here's me, ogling her tits, lost in pleasure. Worst son ever.

But it felt good. Couldn't help it. That made it worse.

"Jun."

"Yeah."

"Sorry I can't focus on you kids much 'cause of work."

"...What? Don't be silly. Why apologize?"

"No dad around. You and Chaeyoung must've been lonely."

Mom's eyes misted. Rare for her to bring up Dad. Taboo topic at home.

"I'm not lonely."

It slipped out. No thought behind it.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I see it all—how you juggle work but still care. Mornings stretching for workouts, worrying about us, cooking every day. You're busy but do it all for us. So... don't apologize, Mom."

What the hell was I saying? Pleasure building below, Mom's teary eyes ahead, sappy words from my mouth. Not like me. Babbling to mask the ecstasy.

But how'd it land on her?

"...Jun."

A tear rolled down Mom's cheek. Smiling through it. Then she hugged me. Pulled my upper body up on the bed into her arms.

"Thank you. My sweet Jun."

Mom's embrace. Warm. Clean post-shower scent. And... tits squishing against me. Thin T-shirt the only barrier—her full, soft breasts pressed to my face. Volume incomparable to Chaeyoung's. No bra, so every shape molded perfectly.

Right then—Chaeyoung sped up. Coincidence? Or my arousal feeding back through the gochu, revving her too? Mom's breasts and Chaeyoung's hand hit me double-team.

"M-Mom..."

My voice cracked. Moved? Pleasure? Couldn't tell. Climax hit. In Mom's arms. Tension surged through me hugging her, then released. Mom thought it son-emotion, hugged tighter. That pressure amped everything.

"It's okay, it's okay."

She patted my back. Soothing her boy. I buried my face in her chest. Couldn't show my expression. Not "touched"—blissed-out.

Long minutes later, she let go.

"I'll head out. Sleep well."

"...Yeah."

Mom left. Door clicked shut. I slumped under the covers, spent.

Phone buzzed.

I didn't reply. How could I? "Came in Mom's arms"? No way.

Flipped the phone face-down, stared at the ceiling. What I told Mom? All true. Not lonely, grateful—real. But feeling her tits' texture amid that sincerity? Also true. Getting horny from it? Yeah.

Good son? Bad son? Probably both.

Phone buzzed again.

I picked up the phone. Sent one character.

Closed my eyes. What fresh hell tomorrow? Too tired to think. Just slept.