It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...
There are many delightful activities that one can enjoy on a dark, stormy evening, such as the one that had come to Canterlot City on an otherwise unremarkable autumn day. Younger children can often be found romping through their neighborhoods clad in heavy raincoats and boots, squealing in delight as they splash around in puddles and little streams. Older, more mild-mannered people might prefer to simply cozy up before the fireplace, a good book in one hand, and a glass of their favorite beverage in the other. Of course, if one were a hip, young teenager who preferred to spend their nights out on the town, then there would be few places better to gather at than the local mall. It was for this reason that a quintet of such young women were currently standing together before the entrance to the mall's movie theater.
“Ugh!” groaned a rainbow-haired girl by the name of Rainbow Dash. “What's taking them so long?”
“I reckon they're probably drivin' slow, on account of the weather,” said the group's resident farmgirl, Applejack.
“But the movie's gonna start in five minutes!” said Rainbow Dash, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“Oh, do calm down, darling,” said the fabulous Rarity. “You know there's going to be ten minutes of previews before the movie even begins.”
“Yeah, but it's gonna take us that long just to get snacks!” said Rainbow Dash.
“If you're so worried about it, then go get in line right now,” said the condiment-haired Sunset Shimmer. “Or just watch the trailer again to pass the time.”
“Oh, fine,” said Rainbow Dash, begrudgingly taking her friend's advice and pulling out her phone. Soon enough, the girl's frustrated expression had turned to one of excitement as she watched the video on her screen.
Looking over her shoulder, a bespectacled Twilight Sparkle grumbled softly. “I can't help but notice the scientific inaccuracies in this,” she said. “The human body does not contain that much blood, and I'm pretty sure legs don't bend that direction.”
“Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash, sighing, “just enjoy it.”
Luckily for her, she didn't have to put up with her academically minded friend's comments for much longer, as just a few minutes later, another two girls could be seen approaching the group from afar.
“Hey, girls! We're here!” shouted out the little pink-haired ball of energy that was Pinkie Pie as she bounded her way towards the others, waving enthusiastically. Following close behind her, another pink-haired girl by the name of Fluttershy smiled and gave a much more modest wave.
“Howdy, Pinkie, Fluttershy,” said Applejack as the two new arrivals joined the group. “You two get here alright?”
“Absotutely!” said Pinkie Pie, gleefully saluting.
“I'm sorry we're so late,” said Fluttershy. “It's my fault. Some of the animals at the shelter were scared of the thunder, so I wanted to make sure they all managed to get to sleep before we left.”
“Hey, no worries,” said Sunset. “We would've waited for you. Well...most of us would have.” She cast a sidelong glance at Rainbow Dash.
Just then, Rainbow Dash's phone fell silent as the trailer she was watching came to an end. The normally energetic girl was visibly hyped up even beyond her normal levels, and had no reservations about letting her friends know it.
“Oh man!” she said, grinning widely. “This is gonna be the best movie ever! Are you guys as excited as I am?”
“Heck yeah!” said Pinkie Pie, raising her hand for a high-five, which Rainbow Dash eagerly returned.
“So...what movie did you girls choose?” said Fluttershy, her confusion visible on her face.
“Oh, that's right!” said Pinkie Pie, slapping her forehead. “They texted me while you were busy reading that kitty a bedtime story and then I forgot to tell you. We're seeing...” She turned to face Fluttershy, holding up her hands in a spooky, maniacal manner and adopting a menacing expression. “Saturday the 14th IV: Jimmy's Revenge!” A conveniently timed crack of thunder sounded as the girl finished. Her expression immediately softened again afterwards, and she giggled at her own theatrics.
“B-But...isn't that that...scary movie?” said Fluttershy, her eyes wide.
“Yes,” said Rarity, her tone betraying her lack of enthusiasm. “Not exactly my cup of tea, but...it was Rainbow's turn to choose.”
Sunset looked back at Fluttershy, seeing the timid girl's cheeks growing paler by the second. She may have had her magical geode hanging from her neck, but it didn't take a mind-reader to know exactly what was going through the other girl's head.
“Hey, now that we're all here, why don't we go get in line for popcorn?” said Sunset.
With varying degrees of enthusiasm, the girls made their way towards the concession stand. As the rest walked off, however, Sunset reached out and put a hand on Fluttershy's shoulder, stopping her.
“Fluttershy,” said Sunset quietly, “you don't have to come watch this movie with us if you don't want to. I know how you get about...stuff like this.” Glancing upwards, she caught sight of a movie poster hanging on a nearby wall and gestured towards it. “Hey, how about you and I go and see that movie instead?”
Fluttershy followed Sunset's finger to the poster, which featured a colorful, friendly advertisement for Captain Wuzzlekins' Rainbow Adventure. The girl's heart leaped upon seeing the faces of those adorable little animals, but she quickly stifled her enthusiasm, silently berating herself.
No. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep letting my fears keep me from doing things with my friends, whether it's haunted houses, Halloween stores, or...this. I'm not a little girl anymore. I can do this.
Fluttershy took a deep breath, then forced a smile onto her lips.
“Thanks, Sunset,” she said, “but I'm alright. I...I want to see this movie with you all. I really do.”
Sunset was not entirely convinced by her friend's assurance, but respected her enough not to doubt her openly.
“Well...okay,” she said. “If you're sure. But...you can always change your mind later, okay?”
“I know,” said Fluttershy, giving her friend a more genuine smile. “Now, come on! Let's go...watch that movie!” She meekly raised her fist into the air, then quickly walked off into the theater before she could change her mind.
Sunset hesitated for a moment, then followed after her, inwardly grateful that she would not have to miss the most highly anticipated cinematic gorefest of the year.
A flash of lighting arced through the air just a few miles away from a little suburban neighborhood on the outer edge of town. The accompanying boom of thunder echoed through the streets, quickly making its way to a humble house with beautiful flowers filling its front garden and an above-average number of bird feeders hanging from its front porch. At the same time, fat, heavy raindrops pounded the roof of that lovely home, sounding as loud as hailstones as they collided with the shingles. The powerful winds howled like a banshee as they swirled around it, rattling the windows of a certain bedroom.
Within that bedroom, snuggled up in her plush, warm bed and surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals, sat Fluttershy. The room was lit by the bright, warm light of her bedside lamp, but that warmth did little to offset the mood she was in. The poor girl was visibly on-edge, her eyes as wide as saucers, her lips trembling, and her body shuddering like Twilight's did when she heard the words “overdue library book”. She clutched her covers tightly, nervously kneading the soft fabric.
It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a mo—
A sudden crack of thunder interrupted the girl's mantra, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. She reflexively pulled her covers up to hide her face and scrunched her eyes shut, only lowering her guard again after several long moments had passed. She slowly looked around her bedroom, taking slow, deep breaths to calm herself.
“It's okay. It's okay,” she said. “There's...no such thing as...football-helmet-wearing chainsaw-murderers in real life...right Angel?”
Lying peacefully in his little bed in the corner of the room, already half-asleep, was Fluttershy's beloved pet rabbit. At the sound of his name, Angel raised his head off of his pillow slightly, gave his owner an unsympathetic look, then promptly returned to his drowsing.
Somewhat comforted by her pet's response, Fluttershy turned towards her bedside table, looking at her lamp. Aside from the multiple night lights plugged into the walls, that lamp was the only thing shielding that room from the darkness of night, a fact which she was well aware of. Despite this, she knew she would never be able to get to sleep unless she summoned her courage and switched it off.
Come on, Fluttershy. You're not a little girl anymore. You can handle it.
Gulping, Fluttershy raised a trembling hand and slowly extended her finger towards the light switch. Just as her fingertip was about to make contact, however, there came the sound of a gentle knock from her bedroom door. In her agitated state, even such a nonthreatening sound as that was enough to set the poor girl off.
“Eep!” she squealed, quickly retreating behind her covers yet again.
“Fluttershy?” called out a familiar voice as soft as silk. “Are you alright in there?”
A thick blanket of calm wrapped around the poor girl at the sound of that voice, not enough to banish her fears entirely, but enough that she was willing to emerge from behind the much more material blanket she was currently cowering behind. She took a deep breath, her cheeks burning with shame at her own cowardice.
“I'm alright, Mom,” she called out. “You can come in.”
The bedroom door was slowly opened, and through the crack was poked a face that Fluttershy knew as well as her own. It was a soft, rounded, feminine face with gentle features, framed by thick, deep red locks. A thick pair of glasses sat upon that adorable nose, behind which could be seen two beautiful eyes overflowing with love and tenderness. A set of big, full lips were stretched into a caring, yet cautious smile that put Fluttershy at ease like few other things in the world could.
“I...just came to check up on you,” said Mrs. Shy. “I know you were a little bit...shaken up when you got home earlier.”
Fluttershy put on as brave of a face as she could muster, and spoke in a clear, firm tone. “Thanks, but...I'm alright, really,” she said.
The look on Mrs. Shy's face showed that she did not entirely believe her daughter's bravado, yet she gave her daughter a supportive smile nonetheless. “Alright, sweetie,” she said. “I just wanted to be sure.”
In light of her recent attempts at bravery, Fluttershy found her mother's protectiveness mildly annoying, but at the same time, she was unbelievably grateful that she was not alone in that house that night.
“Oh! I meant to tell you: your father called,” continued Mrs. Shy. “He said that he and Zephyr are going to drive back from the hair therapy convention tomorrow morning instead of tonight. He didn't want to risk driving back in this weather, and I agreed with him. I wouldn't want something to happen to them.”
“Right,” Fluttershy agreed.
“Anyway,” said Mrs. Shy, “that means it'll be just us tonight...just us girls.” A hopeful look flashed across her face for a brief moment, disappearing when Fluttershy did not reply. “Well...I'm heading off to bed now. Are you sure there's not...anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”
You could hold me and tell me that everything's alright...that there's nothing to be afraid of.
“No thanks, Mom,” said Fluttershy, ignoring her anxious heart. “I'm good.”
“Well, you know where to find me if you do,” said Mrs. Shy. A shadow of concern passed over her friendly visage. “You will tell me if you need anything...won't you?”
“I will,” said Fluttershy.
“Promise?” said Mrs. Shy.
“I promise,” said Fluttershy.
Her words seemed to assuage her mother's concerns, as the older woman's expression softened.
“Okay,” said Mrs. Shy. “Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” said Fluttershy.
Mrs. Shy lingered at the door for a moment longer, then slowly withdrew, pulling the door shut behind her.
Fluttershy watched her mother's face disappear, and watched the door slowly swing closed. When that door closed, she thought, she would be alone again. She would be alone with her stuffed animals, and her bed covers, and her little white rabbit. She would be alone with the wind, and the rain, and the ominous roaring of thunder. She would be alone in the darkness of her big, scary bedroom. She would be alone, just her...and the chainsaw-murderer hiding in her closet!
“Wait!” Fluttershy called out.
The bedroom door froze in place an inch before it would have closed, then was slowly pushed open again. Mrs. Shy's face reentered the room, bearing a worried look.
“What is it, sweetie?” she said.
Nothing. Tell her there's nothing wrong. Tell her to forget it and leave. Tell her you're alright. Tell her you're not afraid. Tell her you're not a little girl anymore. Tell her...
“Can I sleep with you?” blurted out Fluttershy, her mouth blatantly disregarding her mental orders.
Mrs. Shy blinked. “Sweetie?” she said.
Tell her you're joking! Tell her you're not scared to sleep alone! Tell her literally anything else!
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” said Fluttershy, her pounding heart yanking the reigns away from her brain. “Please?”
Mrs. Shy's expression slowly melted into one of profound motherly love and affection.
“Of course you can,” she said.
Mrs. Shy slowly pushed the bedroom door the rest of the way open, then slowly walked into the room. She crossed over to her daughter's bedside, smiling warmly and holding out one of her hands.
Fluttershy merely stared at the hand, her limbs waiting patiently for the silent battle between her brain and her heart to conclude. A sudden crack of thunder spurred them into action, however, and she reflexively reached out and seized the hand, barely managing to muffle her accompanying squeal. In her panic, she squeezed the hand firmly, but as she calmed, she relaxed her grip, giving that soft, warm hand the same gentle touch that it gave her.
Mrs. Shy slowly stepped back, pulling Fluttershy along with her. Fluttershy wanted to resist, she wanted to object, she wanted to tell her mother that she didn't need to be treated like a child...and yet she silently slid out from underneath her covers and stepped down onto her bedroom floor. If Mrs. Shy noticed her daughter's inner turmoil, she gave no sign of it, merely giving her that warm, motherly smile of hers as she lead her out of the room.
Fluttershy sat in her parents' bed, leaning back against the plush pillow on her side with her legs beneath the bed covers. She could still hear the sounds of the pounding rain, the whistling wind, and the occasional cracks of thunder, and could see the ominous shadows cast by the bedroom furniture in the light of her mother's bedside lamp, all of which kept her in a constant state of mild anxiety. Those weren't the only troublesome feelings running through the girl's head, however, as she also had to contend with her deep shame that had been steadily increasing as the minutes had gone by.
You scaredy-cat. No...even a cute little kitty would be braver than you. You're acting like a little girl, hiding in your mom's bed like this...acting like a baby. You're not a baby; stop acting like one!
Fluttershy glanced over at the door to her parents' walk-in closet, behind which she could hear her mother getting changed.
When she comes out, just tell her you don't need to spend the night with her. Tell her you're an adult and you don't need her to watch over you. Apologize for the trouble, then just go back to your room.
She sat there for several more moments, gathering her courage for the long walk through the dark hallway back to her bedroom. When she heard the handle of the closet door turn and saw the door slowly opening out of the corner of her eye, she turned to look at it.
“Mom, I...” Fluttershy began, trailing off as her eyes fell upon the form of her mother.
Mrs. Shy had always been a very modest woman, both in terms of her personality, and in terms of her taste in apparel. Fluttershy could hardly remember a time when she had seen her mother out in public, or even around the house, in anything more revealing than a t-shirt and a long, ankle-length skirt. Even on those rare occasions that their family spent a day at the beach together, her mother had never dared to wear anything other than a very conservative once-piece swimsuit. It was for this reason that the sight of her mother in her pajamas caught Fluttershy so completely off-guard.
A long, white, cotton nightgown clung to the woman's body, hanging from a pair of thin straps that ran over her shoulders and reaching down just past her knees. The garment was not in any way sexual, or even alluring for that matter; in fact, it was rather bland. It was not even the most revealing thing she had ever seen her wear, objectively speaking. Its high neckline did not even threaten to give a glimpse of anything beneath it, and it came up just as high in the back, showing off nothing but her shoulders and a bit of her upper back. Down below, the hemline swayed only slightly as she slowly walked into the bedroom, preserving her modesty on that front too.
It was not anything having to do with the nightgown itself that made Fluttershy stop and stare. Rather, it was the connotation of the thing, the significance of her mother wearing it before her. It was just so...intimate...to see her mother like that, see her in a way that she had probably never been seen by anyone but her husband. It was that softness, that vulnerability, that openness that drew her attention a hundred times more than anything as public as a swimsuit could have. That...as well as that which that garment contained.
Fluttershy had always known that her mother was quite...endowed...but it was one thing to know that her mother had to buy extra-large, heavy-duty brassieres to support her sizable bosoms, and another thing entirely to see those same enormous breasts covered in nothing but a sheer layer of white cotton. Her mother's nightgown was in no way form-fitting, but even so, she had no trouble whatsoever seeing the shape of those massive, heavy teardrops it concealed, each one easily bigger than its owner's head, bigger than those of any other woman in town, Fluttershy imagined. Those jaw-dropping breasts swayed gently as she walked, and jiggled ever-so-slightly with every step she took.
Fluttershy's eyes quickly traveled lower to examine her mother's lower half, which was as equally impressive as her upper half, if not more so. The set of huge, childbearing hips her mother bore could have easily let her pass for a mother of ten, rather than of two. When combined with her incredible breasts, her hips gave her a body that positively screamed “fertility”. Only accentuating the vision of womanhood she presented were the pair of thick, plump thighs she had hidden beneath her nightgown, her curvy calves, her bare feet, and finally, those two big, round, plush cushions she had attached to her backside. Fluttershy was treated to an excellent view of that posterior as her mother walked over to her vanity, allowing her to see every little wiggle and jiggle those two enormous cheeks made as she went.
Mrs. Shy stood before her vanity, facing away from Fluttershy, as she reached up and removed her earrings. After a moment had passed, and Fluttershy still hadn't continued her sentence, she did a half-turn and looked back at her daughter.
“Yes, sweetie?” she said.
Fluttershy was at a loss for words. She had plenty of them swirling around in her head at the moment, of course, but most of them were the sort of salacious words she had heard her more bawdy friends use to describe women with physiques similar to her mother's, and therefore, were not ones she could bring herself to vocalize. Her cheeks, already a shade redder than their usual coloration, grew even redder under her mother's inquisitive gaze. She quickly tore her eyes away from her mother, looking over at the innocuous dresser on the other side of the room.
“N-Nevermind,” said Fluttershy.
A look of sympathetic concern appeared on the face of Mrs. Shy, but she did not press her daughter further. After a moment, she turned back towards her vanity, resuming her task.
Fluttershy, meanwhile, was busy wrestling with the new feelings surging into her mind, further adding to the storm raging there. In addition to her lingering terror and the burning shame of her perceived immaturity, she now had to deal with the awkwardness and the strange, inexplicable allure of seeing her mother in a way she had never seen her before...and seeing her body in a way she had never seen it before. As she sat there, trying to make sense of it all, her gaze unconsciously fell, coming to rest on her own body.
She had often had the phrase “the apple doesn't fall far from the tree” hurled in her direction during family reunions and holiday gatherings, a sentiment that she had historically dismissed. After all, she had thought, she would never be able to measure up to such a sweet, caring, amazing woman as her mother, literally or figuratively. As she looked down at herself, however, seeing in her mind's eye the familiar flesh concealed beneath pajamas and blankets, she was forced to realize that such assessments might not have been so unrealistic. After all, the teen had been doing quite a lot of growing over the past few years, and so couldn't help but mentally compare her post-pubescent body with that of the one who had served as her model of femininity for her entire life.
Beneath the big, soft t-shirt Fluttershy wore hid a pair of breasts almost as huge as her mother's...almost. She and her mother had had several tender, if awkward conversations throughout her adolescence concerning her changing body, especially about the requirements of her undergarments. Fluttershy already wore the biggest-sized bras that could be bought within the city limits; should she ever have children, she would most likely have to start wearing bras as big as her mother's, if not bigger. Despite their significant weight, her breasts had always held their teardrop shape fairly well, although did sag a bit when they were without support.
Further down, hidden beneath the blanket and the pair of soft pajama pants she wore, was a set of wide hips and a bottom that was a bit too plump for her comfort. Despite insistence from certain close friends that boys, as well as some girls, found big, squishy buns such as hers to be irresistible, Fluttershy still found herself choosing to munch on carrots and celery at lunchtime, rather than on less healthy alternatives. Filling out the rest of those pants were a pair of pillowy thighs that her animal friends loved to rest their heads on, as well as some shapely calves, and a pair of feet as big and as soft as the rest of her.
All of this and more ran through the poor, confused teen's head in the time it took her mother to place her earrings down on her vanity, then walk over to her own side of the bed.
“Sweetie?” said Mrs. Shy as she lowered herself down onto the mattress.
Fluttershy looked back over at her, watching her nightgown hug the curves of her voluptuous body as she lay down, and saw her hemline slide up a bit, revealing a few tantalizing inches of her soft, juicy thighs. She quickly raised her gaze to her mother's face, seeing the look of concern there.
“Y-Yes?” she said.
“I...I just want you to know that...I'll always be here for you...even if you don't need me,” said Mrs. Shy. “It's...been hard for me to admit to myself that...you don't need me as much anymore...because I know you don't. You're not a little girl anymore, Fluttershy; I know that. I know that you're a young woman now...a strong, beautiful, intelligent, and brave young woman...much braver than me.”
“Mom...” said Fluttershy.
“But...even though you're a woman now...even though you're not a little girl anymore...you'll always be my little girl,” said Mrs. Shy. “You'll always be my precious baby. I know you...probably don't want to think of yourself like that...and you shouldn't force yourself to, but...I just don't want you to feel bad about it. I don't want you to be ashamed of...being my little girl...and I don't ever want you to think that I'll think less of you for it. I'll always love you, and I'll always respect you, whether you want to be the woman I know you are...or if you want to be my little girl.”
If Fluttershy had felt ashamed before, then she felt doubly so after hearing her mother's heartfelt words, but not because of the words themselves. Instead, she found herself in the peculiar situation of being ashamed of her own shame, looking back on her bravado and her dismissal of her emotional needs as the foolishness that it was. Additionally, the fact that her mother had seen through her so easily, seen right into her needy heart, only made her feel more foolish. Having been caught in her childishness, she did what any little girl would have done in her stead: seek comfort and forgiveness in the arms of her mother.
Fluttershy lunged at her mother, throwing her arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace. Mrs. Shy started at the sudden contact, but quickly melted into the hug, holding her daughter lovingly and softly stroking her hair.
“Oh, Mom,” said Fluttershy, “I'm...I'm not ashamed. I'm not ashamed of...being your daughter. I...I love it...and I love you. That's why I try to be strong...try to...not be such a little girl. I don't want to be a burden...to you, or...my friends...or anyone I care about.”
“Oh, sweetie, no,” said Mrs. Shy, placing a gentle kiss on her daughter's head. “You could never be a burden to me.” She placed her hands on Fluttershy's shoulders and gently pushed her back, looking her in the eye. “I would do anything for you...in a heartbeat. I would give you anything...absolutely anything...if it would make you happy. That's what moms are for.”
Fluttershy gave her mom a shaky smile, and wiped the moisture from her eye. “I know,” she said. “I know you would..and you don't know how grateful I am for that.”
Mrs. Shy reached up and brushed the hair out of her daughter's face. “You have the rest of your life to be a woman,” she said, “and I hope that you're able to enjoy every minute of it. But...just for tonight...maybe you could enjoy...being my little girl again?”
Fluttershy sniffled, and nodded her head. “I'd like that,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”
Smiling that warm, loving smile of hers, Mrs. Shy gently pushed her daughter back, leaning her down onto the mattress. Fluttershy slid down and rested her head on her pillow, snuggling into the bed. After ensuring that her daughter had been snugly tucked in, Mrs. Shy reached up and grasped her thick-rimmed glasses, removing them and carefully placing them on her bedside table.
As her mother turned back, Fluttershy was reminded of just how beautiful her mother was. While her glasses certainly made her look adorable in a dorky, momish sort of way, seeing her face unobstructed was an entirely different experience. The image of refined, mature femininity those features projected was more mesmerizing than even her body had been.
“You're so beautiful,” said Fluttershy softly.
Mrs. Shy paused in the middle of lying down, clearly caught off guard by the comment. She quickly recovered, however, smiling down at her daughter, and even blushing slightly. “Why...thank you,” she said. “I take after my daughter.”
Fluttershy giggled softly at the joke, with her mother joining in as she laid her head down upon her pillow.
“Are you ready?” said Mrs. Shy, to which Fluttershy nodded.
Mrs. Shy reached out and flicked the switch of her lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Fluttershy didn't even quiver, however, as she could still make out the angelic face of her mother in the gloom. When Mrs. Shy rolled back over, she leaned forward, placed a hand on her daughter's cheek, and planted a warm, loving kiss on her forehead.
“Goodnight...my baby,” she whispered as she withdrew.
“Goodnight...Mommy,” whispered Fluttershy.
As the two closed their eyes, Fluttershy reached out and grasped one of her mother's hands, giving it a gentle squeeze that her mother swiftly returned.
Toss. Turn. Toss. Turn. Turn. Toss. Turn again. Toss again. Two more turns. A half-turn, then another few tosses for good measure.
Fluttershy opened her eyes, grumbling annoyedly as she looked up at the ceiling above her. She turned her head and glanced over at the clock sitting on her father's bedside table. Her annoyance only increased when she saw that she had been lying in that bed for over an hour, but had yet to find the peaceful embrace of sleep. She had already tried counting sheep, counting pigs, counting dogs, and counting every other kind of animal she could think of, yet still found herself as wide awake as when she had entered that bedroom. No matter what she tried, she couldn't find anything to distract her wholly enough from the fears that lurked in the back of her mind.
While the howling winds had died down somewhat, the rain still pounded the roof over her head, and the occasional crack of thunder could be heard in the distance. On top of this, there were still the shadowy corners of the room and the dark forms of its furniture to worry about, each one a potential hiding place for some sort of unseen danger. Despite scanning that room a hundred times and seeing not a trace of a chainsaw anywhere, Fluttershy could not get the horrifying images she had seen on the silver screen earlier out of her head.
After making yet another inspection of the room, Fluttershy looked to her side, where the one thing that had even come close to calming her lay, sleeping peacefully. Her mother had been lucky, she thought; she had fallen asleep less than ten minutes after closing those big, beautiful eyes of hers. The woman was lying on her side, facing her daughter, granting Fluttershy a clear view of her serene visage. Fluttershy pored over those familiar features, over those soft cheeks, that little nose, and those slightly parted lips. She listened to the sound of her soft breaths, trying to lose herself in their calming rhythm.
It almost worked. As Fluttershy lay there, listening to those breaths, watching the gentle rise and fall of her mother's massive chest, she eventually felt the warm haze of sleep surround her. Before it could fully take hold of her, however, it was dispelled by the boom of a particularly loud thunderclap. Fluttershy let out a tiny squeak of terror as she reflexively snuggled up against her mother, scrunching her eyes closed.
When the moment of panic had finally passed, Fluttershy slowly opened her eyes again, and realized several things in quick succession. Her bare feet had made their way to her mother's, and were currently huddled up against them. Her thick thighs were rubbing up against her mother's, subconsciously squeezing one of those tree trunks between them. Her ample breasts were lightly squished against her mother's more-than-ample pair, only a couple thin pieces of fabric separating their soft, warm flesh. Finally, her lips, still quivering slightly, were only a few short inches away from her mother's, so close that she could feel her mother's breaths caressing them.
Fluttershy's cheeks reddened as her panic was quickly replaced with another powerful emotion. She tried to look away; she tried to move away, retreat to a more appropriate distance, but she could not. She was frozen there, paralyzed by the sight, the sound, and the feel of her beautiful mother. She knew it was wrong; she knew that she was flirting with a line that she should not be crossing. A loving hug, a peck on the cheek, a gently held hand...those sorts of things were appropriate for a young woman to do with her mother. To cling to her so openly, so boldly, however, to gaze long and hard at those twin mountains of feminine flesh, and at those big, plush lips...she had not done such things for a very long time.
She could barely remember them, those long-gone days when she had been a tiny little tot, and her mother had been one of the few people in the world that she had not been shy around. She could remember taking warm bubble baths with her, during which her curious toddler's mind, still ignorant of such concepts as privacy and personal space, had compelled her to explore and play with the mature woman's body. She could remember her mother rocking her to sleep while she rested her head on those convenient pillows she carried beneath her shirt. She could remember smattering her mother with innocent kisses, not just on her cheeks, but on her nose, her neck, and even those luscious lips, lips made for kissing.
A wave of feelings came rushing back to her along with those mostly forgotten memories, feelings of warmth, of comfort, of safety, and of unconditional love, feelings more powerful than any of her fears, or any of her shames. She reveled in those feelings as they swept through her, slowly filling her up from head to toe. In a matter of moments, she had been completely and wholly disarmed, the girl losing herself to the innocent, needy mindset of the little girl she had once been. She didn't care if it was wrong, she didn't care if it was embarrassing, and she didn't care if it was childish; she wanted to feel those feelings again. She wanted to feel the warmth, the protection, and the love of her mother's body once more.
Fluttershy hardly noticed her head move forward, moving her lips at a snail's pace towards the pair lying just in front of them. She hardly noticed her eyelids droop, soon closing completely. All she was aware of in that moment was the euphoric sensation of her mother's flesh pressed against her own, and the feel of her mother's breath on her skin, beckoning her closer. She breathed in those same breaths as the distance between them shrunk, slowly but surely, before eventually vanishing entirely as two sets of full, feminine lips met in a pure, loving kiss.
Fluttershy shuddered as the warmth of those lips, those incredibly soft, unbelievably plush lips, radiated throughout every inch of her body, as if she had just stepped into a hot shower. Any remaining reservations she might have had were melted away by that warmth, her deep longing driving her onward as she leaned further into the kiss. Her lips moved of their own volition, slowly caressing those of her mother and gently mashing against them. She allowed her instincts to take over, merely lying there and enjoying those sweet sensations as the kiss gradually deepened. So thoroughly did she lose herself in that pleasure that it took her a few moments to notice when her mother's lips began to kiss her back.
When that fact finally managed to work its way into her hazy mind, her eyes flew open, and she yanked her head back, gasping as the kiss was broken. Her heart pounding, she immediately looked up at her mother's eyes and saw...that they were still closed. For several long moments, she stared at those eyes, watching for even the tiniest trace of movement, but none ever came. In fact, her mother's face did not budge an inch, save for her lips, which continued to slowly kiss the empty air before them, eventually falling still again.
Fluttershy gulped, then took a deep breath. “Mom?” she whispered.
She waited as those tense seconds ticked by, fearing the worst, but the worst never came. Her mother continued to drowse, lying as still as a stone upon the bed. Eventually, Fluttershy looked back down at her lips, still feeling their tantalizing warmth upon her skin. Dare she try again? Dare she risk it? The rational part of her mind said no, but a much bigger part, a part that wanted nothing more than to feel that soft skin again, quickly overpowered it.
Within moments, Fluttershy's eyes were closed, and her lips had found the loving touch of their counterparts once again. She moved warily, keeping alert for any warning signs as she pressed her lips more firmly against her mother's. Despite this, she boldly pressed onward, fully locking lips with her mother and allowing her tongue to slip out. Her tongue placed several long, slow, probing licks on her mother's lips before venturing between them into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. She tentatively explored her mother's mouth, lovingly caressing her teeth, her gums, and her own soft tongue.
When she eventually felt her mother respond, those lips, and even that tongue reacting to her touch, Fluttershy opened her eyes again, but did not withdraw. She saw clearly that her mother's eyes remained closed, and heard her breaths come at the same serene pace that they had been before. Her mouth, it seemed, was the only part of her that had woken, her lips and tongue acting on pure muscle memory as they drowsily returned her daughter's kiss.
Calmed by this revelation, yet further excited by the realization that she was engaging in such a carnal act with her own sleeping mother, Fluttershy continued, letting her eyes fall closed again and further deepening the kiss. Her tongue met with her mother's, which touched her as slowly and gently as a mother would touch their infant child. Fluttershy moaned softly as the two swirled around and slid over each other, finding bliss in even the tiniest movement.
Emboldened by her mouth, the other parts of Fluttershy's body soon joined in, each seeking to feel her mother's body for themselves. Her little toes explored her mother's feet, sliding over her silken soles and her smooth heels. Her legs wrapped themselves around one of her mother's pillowy thighs, squeezing that massive hunk of plush flesh in a firm, but loving grip. Her arms snaked around her mother's middle, embracing her and pulling her closer. Both women moaned softly into each other's mouths as the tender flesh of their breasts was squished even more firmly together, those four teardrops compressing into much rounder shapes.
Every part of her mother's body offered some new experience; every inch of her provided some unique sensation, all of which Fluttershy cherished beyond belief. She could hardly have described the strange, yet nostalgic comfort that swept her up and cradled her in its protective, motherly influence. She really did feel like a child again, so carefree, so safe, concerned with nothing but enjoying the woman she loved more than any other in the world. It was a pure, innocent, childish kind of love, despite the scandalous means by which it manifested itself.
Of course, Fluttershy was not a child, she was a young woman, and so had, deep down in her hormone-filled teenage body, a very different kind of love simmering as well. It started out small, merely a quiver and a clench of her sensitive flesh, but continued to grow with every second she spent exploring her mother's mouth...and every other part of her. Before long, she could feel the ache between her legs, and feel the heat spreading throughout her body, setting her skin aflame. Her hips moved of their own accord, slowly grinding against the warm flesh of the thigh currently separated from her moistening loins by only thin fabric. Her hands wandered across her mother's sleeping body, moving up to caress her bare shoulders, her back, and her arms, before moving down again, heading towards her huge, juicy rear. She explored every inch of those jiggly cheeks, grabbing great handfuls of flesh and squeezing gently, but firmly.
Her body was soon consumed by her lust, eagerly seeking out warmth and sensual pleasure wherever it could find it...perhaps too eagerly. Despite her mother's greater body mass, Fluttershy's increasingly heavy petting eventually overcame her inertia, upsetting the precariously balanced woman. The first sign of her mother's change in position came when their lips were pulled apart, leaving only a thin strand of saliva connecting them. Fluttershy's eyes slowly opened, and she realized what was happening just a second too late to do anything about it. She watched in slow motion as her mother flopped over onto her back, her plump body wobbling as it settled into its new position.
Fluttershy froze and held her breath, watching in silent terror as her mother's moist lips formed words.
“Flutter...shy,” breathed the sleeping woman. “My...baby.”
Fluttershy waited, listening to the pounding of her heart and the slow, rhythmic breaths of her mother. When a minute had passed and her mother had not stirred again, Fluttershy silently released her breath, thanking her lucky stars.
As her heart rate returned to its previous cadence, she looked over at her mother, a brief moment of clarity coming to her. She knew she should stop; she knew she had pushed things too far, and that only disaster could come if she persisted. Her mother would wake up eventually, and then...she didn't want to think about what would happen then. She tried to order her lustful body to release its prize, but it refused to listen. Rather then uncoiling themselves from the motherly flesh they clung to, her limbs squeezed even tighter, dragging her up and on top of her mother. With their bodies pressed together again, and their foreheads gently resting against each other, Fluttershy looked down at her mother's face.
She knew she should stop...but she just didn't want to. She didn't want to crawl back to her side of that great big bed to sleep all alone; she wanted to stay right there where she was. She wanted to touch and kiss and love her mother, just like she had all those years ago. She wanted to be her mother's little girl again, if only for one night.
Fluttershy closed her eyes and leaned in once again, commencing another slow, passionate kiss. Her mother's unconscious body responded on cue, kissing her back just as tenderly as before. As they kissed, Fluttershy continued to gently hump her mother's leg, and brought her hands up to her mother's face, holding it and caressing those soft cheeks of hers. Her hands explored those soft features, slowly moving down over her chin, then her neck, then down to her chest. As her hands slid into the deep chasms formed by the meeting of four enormous breasts, she shivered. When she placed her palms right at the center of her mother's massive mammaries and gave them a slow squeeze, her mother moaned softly into her mouth, but did not wake.
Fluttershy marveled at how deeply her fingers sunk into that ocean of flesh, and whimpered as she felt that incredible softness. The echoes of deeply buried memories rang through her mind as she lovingly pawed as those breasts, memories of touching, of nuzzling...and of sucking. She realized that she would never be content with such obstructed contact; she needed to see them in all their glory, feel them against her skin, and seek the comfort they had granted her all those years ago.
Fluttershy's mouth separated from her mother's with a soft, wet pop, her mother's tongue giving chase for a moment before begrudgingly withdrawing. Opening her eyes, she looked down at her mother's chest, seeing the two thin straps of the garment that kept her from her goal. Her hands quickly emerged from within the fleshy canyons, making their way up her mother's chest to her shoulders. She quickly pushed herself up and off of her mother's chest, allowing her easier access to that which she sought. Grabbing one strap in each hand, Fluttershy gulped, then slowly pulled them down. The straps passed over her mother's shoulders, then slowly worked their way down her arms, pulling the rest of the garment along with it.
As the soft fabric of the nightgown was pulled down, exposing the precious treasures it contained, Fluttershy's eyes widened and her mouth hung agape. With every tantalizing, mouthwatering inch of that massive acreage that was exposed, Fluttershy's heart beat a little bit faster, and her aching womanhood throbbed a little bit harder. By the time that fabric had climbed to the peaks of those twin mountains and begun their descent down the opposite slopes, Fluttershy could feel the last bits of self-control in her mind slipping away. By the time the fabric had reached her mother's soft tummy, Fluttershy was lost to the hypnotic spell of her mother's body.
She gazed in awe at those colossal hemispheres of pale flesh that slowly rose and fell in time with her mother's breaths. Her eyes darted to and fro, struggling to take in every inch of their sheer enormity at once. She pored over their curves, their slopes, and those places where the soft skin squished and folded against itself. Most importantly, she stared at the two huge, pink areolae that crowned those breasts, noting immediately that the little nubs that should have stood at their centers were currently hiding beneath the pucker of her flesh.
The sight of those shy little nipples sent Fluttershy into a frenzy for which there was only one cure. With a shuddering moan, she quickly scooted down, putting herself at eye level with her mother's beautiful breasts, then plunged straight into their depths, burying her face into the deep valley between them. She was immediately smothered by soft, warm flesh, but she only pressed onward, whimpering needily as she nuzzled her face more deeply into it. Her eager hands quickly made their way to those breasts as well, seizing handfuls of flesh and squishing and squeezing to their hearts' content.
Fluttershy's hips bucked quickly and sporadically as her little mind was overwhelmed by the intense carnal euphoria her mother's body provided her. Her body quivered, and adorable little whimpers and moans escaped her lips as she placed sloppy tongue kisses all over those breasts. Moving on pure instinct, Fluttershy's lips licked and kissed their way up the side of one of those mountains, soon reaching its peak. Her eyes cracked, and she looked upon the spot where her mother's nipple should have stood tall and proud. Her tongue slipped from between her lips and lapped at that sensitive areola, whimpering in anticipation. Her efforts were soon rewarded, however, as she saw a thick, pink nub slowly emerge from within the folds of her mother's breastflesh, soon swelling to a mouthwatering girth.
Fluttershy quickly wrapped her lips around it, taking that stiff nipple deep within her mouth with a good, hard suck. Guided by some of her oldest instincts, that little girl eagerly lapped and suckled at her mother's teat, seeking the warm, creamy nourishment it contained. While no delicious milk filled her mouth, the primal needs of her mind and body were more than satisfied by the warmth, the softness, the taste, and sounds of soft moaning they were treated to...for the most part. One part of her body in particular, the part that was largely responsible for her loving assault in the first place, was still not wholly satisfied.
Still hidden beneath her soft pink panties with the bunnies on them, Fluttershy's sopping little pussy was aching to feel her mother's bare flesh for itself. Her hips humped furiously in an attempt to appease it, but every thrust, every jolt of pleasure that arced through her body only made it want more. The needy ache soon grew so great that even the heavenly expanse of her mother's breasts could not distract Fluttershy from it. Seeking to quell the fire burning in her loins, Fluttershy regretfully removed her hands, but not her face, from those breasts, reaching down towards her mother's thighs. She grabbed the bottom of her mother's nightgown and quickly worked it up her legs to her hips, exposing every inch of succulent flesh those thighs had to offer. As soon as she was done, her hands moved to her own hips, seizing both her pants and her panties and yanking them down over her plump, round bottom. She shivered as the cool night air kissed her hot, wet lips, but did not pause as she pushed her clothing down to her knees. With the last barriers between her and her mother's flesh removed, Fluttershy lowered her hips back down, pressing her lips against the thick thigh beneath them.
The intense surge of pleasure that shot through her as she felt that indescribable softness against her most sensitive spot made Fluttershy release a shuddering moan, the noise thankfully muffled by the mouthful of equally soft flesh she had latched onto. Her body immediately reacted to the touch, her legs tightly squeezing her mother's and her hips resuming their thrusting, bucking wildly and needily like those of an adolescent just discovering the pleasures their body could give them. Every collision of their flesh produced another wave of pleasure, each one slamming against her mind and gradually wearing away her resistance.
That is not to say that she was making any effort to resist the never-ending torrent that threatened to drown her in ecstasy, however. She welcomed it all, every bit of it, allowing it complete access to her mind and body. She didn't care about holding back or impressing anyone; she knew what she wanted, and she wasn't going to let anything stand in her way. She wanted to lick, she wanted to kiss, she wanted to suck. She wanted to nuzzle, she wanted to squish, she wanted to squeeze. She wanted to feel the jiggles that ran through her mother's body every time she slammed her own body against it. She wanted the hot, burning energy welling up inside of her, swelling her like a balloon, to keep on growing, filling her up until she popped. Thankfully, she did not have to wait long for that.
Fluttershy threw her arms around her mother and squeezed her tightly, pressing herself so deeply into the breast she suckled that she could feel that soft skin on every inch of her face. Her tongue moved with the speed and ferocity of a starving animal, covering that nipple and the surrounding skin with a thick coating of her own saliva. An endless stream of muffled moans and whimpers flowed from her lips, filling her ears and drowning out all other noise. Her hips moved faster and faster, grinding harder and harder against her mother, pressing her lower lips deeper and deeper into that plush flesh. Again and again the pleasure hammered into her, chipping away at her mind, pushing her to the absolute limits of her endurance. Then, with one final, mighty slam of hips against leg, that little girl was sent hurtling over the edge of that precipice and into the world of pure love and lust beyond.
All ten of her little toes curled, and her legs clamped onto her mother's with the strength of a vice, ensuring their flesh would not be parted as her hips rattled and shook like an old shack in a hurricane. Her sopping, aching lips clenched and spasmed as all of the pent-up energy in her quivering body was simultaneously vented through them in the form of her hot liquid love. The muscles of her arms were like iron, holding onto her mother so tightly that it would have taken a crowbar to separate the two. Her face, still smothered in a sea of breastflesh, contorted in ecstasy, her mind-shattering pleasure visible on every one of her features. Her lips never parted from her mother's nipple, not even as a flood of moans and groans issued forth from her throat. Her little heart pounded against her chest so loudly that she could hear its beats throbbing in her ears, playing the music of her love.
She rode that pleasure for as long as she could, holding on for dear life as it carried her to greater and greater heights. She held onto it, feeling every surge as it arced through her tingling skin to her furthest extremities. She clung to it, whimpering when she finally felt the pleasure diminish, each powerful wave slightly smaller than the last. She embraced it, enjoying every last second of ecstasy her mother's body could give her, before at last it faded away. She felt it slip through her fingers, the poor girl too physically and mentally exhausted to stop it from going.
Her clenched muscles slowly relaxed, her weary body going limp as she basked in the warmth of her afterglow. The tight seal of her lips around her mother's nipple was finally broken as she gulped down lungfuls of cool air to soothe her overworked body. She lay there, whimpering as the aftershocks of her climax rippled through her delicate, fragile form. She felt so weak, so powerless, like an infant held in its mother's arms...and she loved every second of it. She absolutely loved that all-encompassing feeling of comfort, of satisfaction, of pure intimacy the likes of which she had not felt in a very long time.
A small smile came to her lips as those warm feelings washed over her, filling her heart and mind. No stormy weather or movie monster could have disturbed the state of perfect bliss she found herself in. After all, she was safe and secure in the arms of her beautiful, amazing, loving mother; nothing could possibly harm her.
Fluttershy snuggled more comfortably against her mother's body, nuzzling her face into the softest pillows in the world. As her exhaustion crept up on her, wrapping her in a cozy blanket of drowsiness, she gladly allowed it to take hold of her and carry her off to the peaceful sleep she had desired, that little girl lulled to sleep by the sound of her mother's heartbeat...and the stroke of a soft, gentle hand on her head.
The bright morning sun shone down on the streets and homes of the city, its light making the rain-soaked grass shimmer. The clouds having all but disappeared, there was nothing to stop that sun from sharing its warmth with the world and bringing smiles to the faces of its people. Although, on one of those quiet streets, in one of those humble homes, lived a pair of women who already had all the warmth and smiles they needed.
Fluttershy smelled the delicious aroma of breakfast wafting through the air as she descended the stairs, making her way to the kitchen. As she stepped into that room, she smiled at the sight of the woman standing at the kitchen counter, currently busy preparing food.
Mrs. Shy looked as adorable and motherly as she always did, what with her long skirt, her cozy sweater, and her thick-rimmed glasses. As she heard the pad of her daughter's bare feet on the tiled floor, she turned and gave her a beautiful, loving smile.
“Good morning, sweetie,” she said, her voice as sweet as that of a songbird.
Fluttershy stretched, her mouth opening wide as she released a long yawn. “Morning, Mom,” she said when she was able. She slowly made her way over to the kitchen table, and to her seat.
“Did you sleep well?” asked Mrs. Shy.
“Yep!” said Fluttershy cheerily as she took her seat.
Truth be told, Fluttershy had slept like a log, awakening that morning feeling more rested than she could ever recall being. She was somewhat surprised, given how much trouble she had had falling asleep the night before. Looking back on it, she couldn't quite remember when she had finally dozed off, only that it had taken quite a while. The last thing she remembered before drifting away had been looking into her mother's beautiful, sleeping face. She remembered certain things from after she had fallen asleep as well, certain peculiar dreams that made her blush to recall, but she had quickly dismissed them for what they were: mere dreams. After all, she couldn't have possibly...
“I'm glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Shy.
Within a minute, the older woman had plated up a warm, fluffy waffle drizzled with syrup and sprinkled with fresh fruit. She carefully carried the meal over to the table, placing it before her beloved daughter.
“Thanks, Mom,” said Fluttershy, smiling up at her mother.
“You're welcome, sweetie,” said Mrs. Shy, returning the smile.
Mrs. Shy walked away and quickly set about cleaning up the kitchen.
“You're not eating?” said Fluttershy after swallowing a bite of waffle.
“Oh, I ate earlier,” said Mrs. Shy.
Fluttershy glanced over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, seeing that it was actually much later in the morning than she would normally sleep. No wonder her mother had already had her breakfast, she thought.
When the kitchen was presentable once again, Mrs. Shy retrieved her purse from its nearby resting place and adjusted her hair.
“I'm heading off to the farmer's market now,” she said. “Is there anything you need before I go? Anything at all?”
“No thanks,” said Fluttershy. “I'm good.”
“Alright then,” said Mrs. Shy. “I'll be home soon.”
“Bye, Mom,” said Fluttershy. “I love you.”
Mrs. Shy paused on her way out of the kitchen, then slowly walked over to where her daughter sat. She smiled, put a hand on her daughter's cheek, then slowly leaned down.
“I love you too...” she said softly.
Fluttershy reflexively turned her head, presenting her cheek for the customary motherly kiss. Just as her mother's lips were about to make contact, however, her head was gently pulled back to face her, allowing her mother to plant a firm kiss directly on her lips. Fluttershy's eyes widened and she gasped through her nose as she felt the strangely familiar sensation of those lips on her own. The kiss lasted only a moment, but that was more than long enough to set the girl's heart aflutter. Mrs. Shy eventually withdrew, pulling back just far enough to gaze into her daughter's eyes and give her a loving, compassionate smile and a very knowing look.
“...my little girl,” she whispered.
Fluttershy sat and watched, her body paralyzed and her mind short-circuited, as her mother stood, turned, and walked out of the kitchen, humming contentedly and swaying those big, babymaking hips of hers.
