"When Hilda Showers, Wee Wee Towers"

Starring Hilda and Henry Humper in a naughty snippet of Humper family
life entitled:
"When Hilda Showers, Wee Wee Towers"
Written by Victor C. Nathan and Chantal Lefleur
Edited by Victor C. Nathan


Henry Humper slammed the front door of the Humper house noisily,
making the windows rattle and vibrate.

"Hey, Mom, I'm home!" he bellowed, really at no one in particular,
slamming his books down on the front hall table before bounding up
the stairs two at a time.

Just as Henry reached the front of his sister Harriet's room, the
door opened and a very disheveled Hilda Humper appeared, hastily
pulling one of Harriet's insufficient t-shirts down over her
mountainous mammaries, which were wickedly bouncing and bobbing
wildly as she tried to calm and slow her ragged and uncontrolled
breathing.

"Why, Henry," Hilda said coyly, in a breathy whisper, placing one of
her dainty hands on each of her bounding and unhoused buxom breasts
to try to keep them from bouncing and jiggling so out of control in
their unfettered freedom. "I wasn't expecting you home this soon. I
was just in Harriet's room helping her to entertain Chuck."

"Heh heh," Henry chuckled all too knowingly, his eyes dropping to
where his mother's braless wonders still jarred noticeably back and
forth and up, down and around under the tiny t-shirt that Hilda could
barely pull down over the truly legendary set of hulking honeydew
honkers she owned, their nipples still jutting sharply against the
thin white fabric.

"Yeah, I'll bet you were doing some entertaining. I guess you and
Harriet had Chuck over for a tea party and strumpets, right? Or maybe
you were playing gin rummy for fun? Nah, I'm guessing that the three
of you were stuffing envelopes to mail out for charitable donations.
Entertaining, my ass. Ha ha ha! That's a pretty witty choice of
words, mother dearest."

"Ha ha! You think you're so funny, Henry Humper," Hilda replied with
a pseudo-harumph, grabbing the bottom of the tiny t-shirt and pulling
it up to dab away the perspiration that had gathered on her forehead
and in the huge Grand Canyon chasm between her gargantuan girly
globes that had yet to wholly cease their energized naughty
undulating. "We were just having a bit of fun."

"You humped him, didn't you?" Henry asked pointedly and frankly,
raising the tail of his own shirt to wipe a string of semen from his
mother's throat, passing over the obvious orbs that stuck out like
two flesh-covered camel humps as they pitched, their skin raucously
rippling with kinetic motion. "You and Harriet have been humping
Chuck, haven't you?"

"Tee hee, of course we did," Hilda replied, shaking her boobies
provocatively in Henry's direction, giggling when she saw a slight
stirring in the front of his Levi's and the look of tittie longing in
his eyes that, despite his best efforts, he couldn't hide from his
tittie momma.

"Lucky bastard!" Henry muttered under his breath, feeling a bit left
out of things, only imagining how much fun Chuck Dicker had derived
from his mother's bra-snapping bobbers and their puckered nipples on
this particular late weekday afternoon. He had just received a nice
blow job from his chesty girlfriend on the way home from school, but
that was then and this was now.

"Ohhhh, Henry, that is so cute," the sensationally stacked mother of
two, who now had a top on much too deficient and insufficient to
completely house the breathtakingly behemoth boobies that extended
down, so mammoth that they hung nearly to her navel, tittered
teasingly to her boy, amused at his jealousy and flattered by the awe
with which he still regarded the insane boom booms that he had
breastfed from for his first sixteen years. "It sounds like somebody
is feeling a little neglected or dejected or something, sweetie baby.
Just because I spent a couple hours rubbing, sucking, boobclenching
and humping Chuckie's wee wee with Harriet today, doesn't mean you
have to feel lousy and left out, precious. It's okay, honey. It'll be
okay. Holy shit, I'm sweating like a bitch, my knockers especially!
Fuck a duck! The sweat is pouring off these big bouncing boobies!"

"It sure looks as though you worked up quite a lather, Mom," Henry
laughed, his gaze still arrested by the little nipple hard-ons
pushing their way through the thin fabric of his sister's t-shirt and
the girth of the glands whose undersides he could spy peeking pertly
from the bottom of the little top. "Here, use my handkerchief and dry
yourself off a bit. Wipe those big fuckers off."

"Tee hee hee, I really did work up a pretty good sweat," Hilda
chortled, her laughter causing her large, fleshy funbags to wobble
inside the flimsy fabric like a couple of young puppies roughhousing
under a blanket. "You should see Chuck. We really wore his big fucker
out! Not too many men can handle two Humper women at once, I'll
fucking tell ya that! Especially when the two Humper bitches aren't
wearing any bras and their titties are free! It can get fucking
dangerous with four of these milkers jumping around near somebody's
wee wee!"

Hilda took the handkerchief that Henry had offered her, using it to
dab precisely at the perspiration trickling in riverlets in the vast
valley between her two largest and most voluminous assets.

"Fucking flailing funbags in fucking Humperland!" Henry cursed,
gaping like a drooling idiot at the two bowling ball-sized bombs of
boobie barely pinned underneath his mother's tiny top, almost wanting
to unzip his pants to relieve some of the pressure put on the fabric,
but restraining his impulse and trying not to appear overly needy
where her knockers were concerned. "Yeah, I'll bet you wore the poor
fucker out, considering you've got two fucking Goodyear blimps shoved
under a top that could barely hold the tits of a member of the 'Itty
Bittie Tittie Committee'! You got two boob blimps under that fucker
looking like they are about to start whimpering out loud if they
don't get out! Our school has only one member on that 'Tittie
Committee', by the way. Shit, Mom! You've sweated completely through
the entire fucking t-shirt! I mean, it's transparent! Not that I'm
complaining!"

"Oh, Henry," Hilda laughed girlishly, her chest charms bobbing up and
down like apples in a barrel at a Halloween celebration, and like the
apples, they were best retrieved with one's open mouth. "I know you'd
never complain about seeing Mommy's big boobies, tee hee. In fact,
sometimes I think you almost feel like they're your own little, or in
this case, big, private amusement park. Oh my goodness, I do feel
sweaty. I think I'm going to go and take a shower, Henry. Would you
like that?"

"Holy shit, yeah, I'd like that!" Henry whooped, remembering many
wonderful occasions when he'd watched his stacked as shit mother
shower through a hole he'd cut in the wall between his bedroom and
the main upstairs bathroom.

He had spent many a pleasant hour there, stroking his erect pecker as
his mother showered with the curtain open, moving her toppling twin
titties just a little more than usual, aware that she was providing
her oversexed, overendowed boy with some cherished boyhood memories.
Henry had spent much time watching the naked titanic tittie goddess
lather her lithe and voluptuous body with soap, bubbly suds of Dove
covering the surfaces of her great masses, her camel humps of hooter,
pinching the nipples of the great hills upon her chest and washing
them clean.

"Well, Henry, I'm going to go get undressed in, guess where, the
upstairs bathroom right next door to your little room with a view.
You can sit down at your little peephole and watch Mommy get all that
nasty icky sweat off of her great biiiiiiiiigggggg fucking boobies
and her big round J-Lo ass too, sweetums. In a few minutes I'm going
to be in my birthday suit, Henry. How does that hit ya, big boy? Does
that perk ya up, weiner boy?"

"Did I say Goodyear blimps? Ohhhhhhhh, yeah, bitch! I'm going up to
my room and getting out of my clothes right now! I'm gonna get
fucking naked for this! I'll see ya!"

"Oh, you'll be seeing all of me, Henry."

"Then quit talking and get in there, you big-tittied bitch!" Henry
ordered her, his voice betraying his horniness as he reached out and
gave his mother a resounding open-handed smack on her big, round,
firm ass. "Talk, talk, talk! That's all women ever do! Right now I
need you in the shower and my hand on my wee wee, so get a move on,
you big-breasted boobie wench!"

"Oh, Henry, I just love it when you're so sweet to me," Hilda sighed,
finally turning and heading for the bathroom, her jugs losing control
of themselves yet again with her forceful steps and being flung in
every titterly direction, her large ass sashaying from side to side
salaciously, the cheeks of her bottom peeking out from below the hem
of the t-shirt she was wearing.

Henry's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he watched his mam-
happy mother move away from him and almost reflexively, he reached
down and grabbed his semi-tumescent penis through the rough fabric of
his jeans.

"I'll say one thing," Henry Humper muttered to himself as he headed
enthusiastically to his room with all the excitement that most guys
would reserve for watching the Super Bowl, instead of the two biggest
hulking hunks of tittie tonnage and beauty to ever reside upon a
woman's body. "That Jerry Springer ain't got nothin' on this fucked
up family."


THE END