"Merry Christmas, Mr. Wean!"

Starring The Misguided Humper Family in:
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Wean!"
By Victor C. Nathan and Chantal Lefleur


"Guess who's coming to stay with us for a fucking week at Christmas,
Henry," 39-year-old globular gazonga goddess, Hilda Humper asked her
male offspring as she reached lasciviously between his legs with a
smirk to touch his private parts. "Down goes the zippy! Wheeeeeee!
And out comes Mr. Winky! Now, guess who's coming to stay with us for
the Christmas holidays."

"I don't fucking know!" Henry answered with a laugh as his mother
undid the front of his pants to get to his underwear, his own
attention drawn to the two bumps of boobery that bunched out the
front of her Christmas sweater as he mindlessly reached up to place a
hand atop each one of her larger than life woman wiggles. "I just
want to play with your puppies! That's all I care about at this
moment, Jiggly Jugs! Hee hee hee!"

"I'll tell you what, sweetums," Hilda Humper cooed, grinning a
wickedly seductive grin that lit up her perfect gorgeous face with
playful spite and then she shook her waist until her top-heavy orbs
jarred up and down fleshily in his hands. "If you can guess who is
coming to visit for Christmas, I'll suck your wee wee."

"Holy fucking shit, I would love that shit!" Henry retorted hornily,
pulling his mother's holiday sweater up over the extreme curves of
her bodacious bosom, already excited due to the overwhelming size and
weight of her two feminine glands. "Are you fucking serious? I mean,
you just sucked it twice this morning!"

"Oh, relax, Henry. It's Christmas after all," Hilda giggled, shaking
her breasts provocatively and catching sight of the pupils in Henry's
eyes expanding visibly as they took in the sight of his maternal
parent's jiggly white boobie flesh wobbling inside her ginormous j-
cuppers. "Come on, are you going to take a guess? Doesn't your big
wee wee want a sucky? Doesn't wee wee want to be inside my throat
again for the holidays?"

Henry looked thoughtful for a moment as his hands cupped Hilda's
still bra-clad breasts and he flicked her nipples with the thumbs of
each of his hands, feeling the pebbly bumps harden at his touch.

"I know! I know!" Henry suddenly shouted out in excitement, his hands
squeezing her triple J juggernauts in a vice-like grip that made her
coo with pleasure, his penis turning to its twelve inch apex under
her touch. "It's Granny June and Grandpa Ward, isn't it? Well, isn't
it?"

"Okay, Henry, you're right," Hilda responded with her trademark
girlish giggle, her large, fleshy breasts bobbing up and down as she
laughed, feeling Henry pinch her nipples between the thumb and
forefingers of each of his hands. "Shut the bathroom door, sweetie.
Time for the grand prize."

"Wow, you mean just like that?" Henry inquired, his hands reaching
underneath her bra to fondle her bare breasts, eliciting a sigh from
her as his hands roamed freely on her soft, warm fleshbags. "That was
an easy question to answer in exchange for a blow job. Holy shit!"

"It'll sure be more fun than taking a pee, tee hee hee," Hilda
laughed, a holiday glint in her eye as she molested his manhood in a
way that was as motherly as naughty, cooing as he lavished her
titflesh with ticklish caresses. "It's all good though, Cock King. It
all comes from the same place. It all comes from Mr. Wean."

"How about we get rid of this big fucking bra first?" Henry asked,
reaching to pull Hilda's sweater up over her head and off. "It's not
as much fun if I can't see your big titties."

"Oh, Henry, I agree," she said eagerly, reaching behind her back with
one hand to quickly unhook her bra and allow it to slide down her
arms and off, landing on the floor at her feet, sashaying her
shoulders so that her breasts swung freely against her chest, causing
Henry's penis to create a noticeable tent in his trousers. "You need
to see them out and bouncing around. It makes it more fun for Mr.
Wean, tee hee. Let's see how big the noggin is on that big fucker of
yours."

Hilda reached down, insinuating her small, dainty hand inside Henry's
boxers until she found the object of her search, her son's already
fully erect twelve inch pecker, wrapping her hand around it
and pulling it free of his clothing.

"Oh, look, Henry. It's your big, bad, mean Mr. Wean, tee hee," Hilda
said, laughing naughtily, both of her J cuppered cupcakes jarring
with her giggles, their nipples rattling atop her tittie
tonnage. "He's got something better in there than pee pee, baby. It's
some sticky wicky gooey ooey shit, Henry."

Hilda pressed the set of her bare top heavy heaves of hooter into his
chest as she leaned in closer to him in a conspiratorial fashion,
fondling him with her juggers as she made over the now bare and fully
swollen head of his weanie with both hands, caressing what was now at
its maximum hardness, using every ounce of her knockery naughtiness
to draw the blood away from his brain to his male staff.

"Part of me almost believes this might be wrong," Henry told Hilda,
brushing the backs of his hands swiftly across the smooth flesh of
her gargantuan knockers. "But fortunately, that part is my brain and
I never listen to it. I love our sexual trysts and I'm sure not going
to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"That's exactly where you ought to look, sweetheart," suggested
Hilda, lowering herself to her knees as her large, somewhat pendulous
breasts swung from side to side, to and fro, slapping noisily against
her chest as they finally came to rest while at the same time she
parted her full, cherry red and prettily pouting lips in
anticipation. "Alright, Henry! Bring wee wee home for the holidays!"

Five minutes later, Hilda's teenaged daughter, Harriet knocked
sharply on the door of the bathroom.

"Mom? Henry?" she said urgently. "What are you two doing in there for
so long? I have to pee, dammit!"

"Door's unlocked!" Henry called out to his older sister, but didn't
look up as she entered the room, his attention still completely
focused on the enormous set of bobbling, jiggling, juggling jaybird
naked J jugs before him and the sight of his mother's blonde head
rising and falling as her warm mouth took as much of him in as she
was able to.

"Holy shit, I thought you two were probably doing some naughty
holiday sexual shit, and I was right," said Harriet, hoisting up her
cheerleading skirt and sliding her panties down her thighs as she
perched on the commode. "I have to pee pee something awful."

Harriet let go of the stream of urine, one she had been trying to
hold back since the end of cheerleading practice, relief washing over
her face as the first tinkling sound of her water hit the water in
the bowl of the commode.

"Ahhhhhhhh, that feels so good," Harriet sighed, grabbing a piece of
tissue and wiping herself dry. "But I bet not half as good as you're
feeling, Henry, tee hee. Looks like you're about to come, brother
dear. Geez, she sucks your wee wee all the fucking time, doesn't she?
But I can't really blame her."

"Yeah, she does, Harriet. I'll let you suck it again later, but,
shit, it's probably one of the best ones I've ever had," responded
Henry, squeezing his mother's breasts roughly as though for emphasis,
then reaching up and yanking on Hilda's hair as he cried
out. "Ahhhhhhhhh, I think it's gonna snow! Get ready for the eggnog!
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Harriet stood up, juggers a-jouncing as she pulled her panties back
up and lowered her skirt over her fleshy ass, patting it neatly back
into place.

"Great ass, sis," said Henry, complimenting his sister, as he
unashamedly checked out her impressive caboose. "And you sure do fill
out that sweater nicely, hee hee. Those titties of yours look huge in
that thing."

Hilda reached out her hand for Harriet to assist her from her
kneeling position as her mouth slid from Henry's jumbo johnson with
an audible popping sound.

"Well, that was fun, tee hee," giggled Hilda, releasing her oral hold
on his huge wee wee. "You really should give it a Christmas suck
yourself, Harriet. It was fucking fun, and he shot a lot of cum down
my throat."

"Sure! Why the hell not?" Harriet replied slyly, checking out his
sagging pee wee. "Does 'he' have another one in him, Henry?"

"'He' sure does, Harriet," Henry said eagerly, smacking one of her
boobs with an open palm and cackling as it dribbled up and down
beneath her clothing. "But that fucking sweater and bra better come
off first."

Harriet quickly obliged, doffing her sweater and bra as she assumed
the position on the floor of the bathroom previously held by her
mother as Henry grabbed hold of his sister's blonde pigtails and
jockeyed the head of his pecker into position, aiming it for her wet,
warm and willing oral cavity.

"This is some fun shit, tee hee hee," the teenaged girl giggled, her
heavy honkers flailing. "I love sucking your big ol' mean Mr. Wean. I
am going to suck the shit outta you."

"Oh, what a happy fucking holiday! What a gift!" Henry yelled
hornily, yanking his sister's head up and down by the pigtails,
making her newly freed and gloriously naked globes of gooey
girlishness bound up and down upon her chest and shoulders. "It's
Christmas in my pants and you're invited, you big-tittied bitch! Oh,
suck it! Suck it! Suck it! Say 'Merry Christmas, Mr. Wean!' with your
DSLs!"


THE END