An explosion went off in Roy's mind.
His eyes were immediately drawn to his mother, thanks to a very noticeable pair of round mounds of flesh on her chest.
'Holy mother f-!'
But before he could even appreciate her gigantic melons, his eyes were once again drawn to her face, and the sight he saw made him subconsciously shift his gaze to his sister, as if to confirm if she was just as beautiful since they shared the same genes.
'Wow!'
For the second time that day, Roy's mind went blank. He had said Laura was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen not so long ago, but now, looking at his mother and younger sister side by side, there was no doubt in his mind.
They were both a whole world apart from the likes of Laura; she simply could not compare. His mother had the kind of sinful beauty that could literally start wars. While his sister held the innocent kind of beauty that urged you to protect her with your life.
He looked back at his mother to get a better look at her features.
Her long silver hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, framing a face so exquisitely sculpted it could have been carved by the gods themselves—high cheekbones, full lips curved in a gentle, maternal smile, and emerald eyes that sparkled with a deceptive warmth.
She looked no older than twenty-eight, her skin was flawless and luminous, but Roy knew from the fragmented memories that she was well into her forties.
As soon as Roy's gaze dipped to her chin, it inadvertently dipped even lower to her monstrous bosom once again.
Hisss!
Only one word could describe them: gigantic! Roy paused to take in a sharp intake of breath.
'Those have to be implants, right?' he thought to himself.
Otherwise, it made no sense, even the biggest breasts he had seen on earth, from models, or while scrolling, none he had seen were so large and so perfectly shaped.
They seemed to be perpetually on the verge of spilling out of her dress; in fact, they rested on the table in front of her while she ate, reason why he had immediately looked at them when his gaze drifted to her chin.
Moving on from her very noticeable bosom, his gaze drifted lower still, to her sides. Even while seated, Roy could easily see that her curves were extraordinary.
An abdomen that narrowed down to her waist, and then flared out into an outrageous curve at her hips. And, for a moment, Roy wished he were the chair she was sitting on.
Because her thick backside was easily twice the size of the large chair.
A face sitting scene momentarily flashed into Roy's mind as his gaze heated up, and of course, he immediately pitched an unrestrained tent on his groin.
'Shit!'
He finally noticed that his mother was looking at him, and he awkwardly shifted his rod sideways in his pants through his pocket to hide the erection.
She was the only one who had paused to gaze at him, and Roy could only hope she hadn't noticed the raging boner he had popped up.
The gentle smile on her face almost seemed to make him short-circuit even further. But, of course, the pain in that smile completely escaped Roy's notice thanks to the trance he was in.
He completely forgot that there were other people in the room, and despite the fact that the young lady beside his mother, who was two years younger than him, his sister, lost out in no way to their mother's beauty, Roy was completely lost in the mature woman's allure.
If Roy had to say, he didn't have a particular preference in women, but apparently, his body thought differently.
"Roy, my son," she said softly. "Why are you standing there? Come. Sit down."
Only then did he realize how long he'd frozen still in his steps.
He moved to the empty chair, avoiding eye contact as he sat.
He sank into it, his eyes still flicking between the women beside him, grabbing his fork into his right hand, knife into the left.
He didn't even notice that he was holding them wrong, as he hovered the utensils over a plate of sliced meats and steaming vegetables.
The food smelled rich—roast venison glazed in herbs, fresh bread that begged to be torn—but it wasn't his stomach that needed to be served. His appetite twisted into something hungrier, more primal.
'Fuck, why are the women here so beautiful?' The thought looped in his head like a glitch, as he stole another glance at his mother's cleavage.
They constantly strained against the bodice of her gown. He imagined ripping it open, watching them bounce free, heavy and full, nipples hardening under his stare before he latched on, sucking hard until she gasped.
"Roy, my son," she repeated softly, her voice a silken thread pulling at him. "You've been through so much. Eat something. You look... pale."
His mother's gentle smile lingered, but now Roy finally caught the flicker of pain in her violet eyes, the way her full lips pressed together.
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing his hand as she passed a bowl of fruit to him. The touch sent a jolt straight through his frame.
He nodded dumbly, piling food onto his plate, but his mind raced with sinful thoughts. 'No wonder the old Roy had been a screw-up—living in a house with this and not tapping it daily?'
It was like he had completely forgotten that this was supposed to be his mother.
The immoral thoughts flooded his mind; it didn't help that he had no real experience with such beautiful women, and his body's reactions only made things worse, not like he was making an effort to restrain his urges.
Regardless, it wouldn't do to act like a brute, so he reluctantly pushed the thoughts aside as he looked at his sister.
She sat beside their mother, her small shoulders slightly hunched, and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Ariana—Arie, as the Roy used to call her—didn't look at him, but he did.
He studied her features with a far more reserved reaction than he had for his mother, since her curves were far less outrageous; she was obviously still developing in many departments.
What could be considered a reserved reaction for Roy, though, you could only guess.
She had her mother's silver - white hair, though hers was tied neatly back, and her doll-like face still carried traces of youth that hadn't yet been hardened by the world. With her shoulders folded inward like that, she looked small at the table, like she was trying not to take up space.
And Roy noticed something else as well. She'd angled her chair away from him.
Not dramatically, but just enough for it to be noticeable. Her meaning was all too clear for all to see.
For some reason, that hurt more than any insult that could have been thrown at him. He could not understand where the feeling came from, but it was there.
Shaking off the foreign feeling, he looked at her closely.
At eighteen, she was a vision of untouched purity: wide blue eyes that darted nervously to him, cheeks flushed with the softness of youth, and soft pink lips that parted just enough to draw you in when she ate.
Her dress was modest, high-necked with those oval cutouts baring her slender shoulders, showing pale skin that glowed like porcelain.
When his eyes dropped to her chest, that gentle swell under the fabric, it could barely be considered a handful, he could not help but wonder how such a voluptuous mother produced such a petite little thing.
Her modest breasts were enough for Roy to almost cry out to the heavens for their injustice, giving abundantly to others while clearly doing the opposite to some.
The blatant favouritism was sad.
But still, despite their small size and his obvious preference for larger assets, he could not deny that small chests held a certain allure to them. They were definitely not as perky as Laura's medium-sized tits, but variety was welcome.
Her pebbles were faintly outlined on her modest white dress, and it stirred something dark in him. Maybe a new fetish, he could not be certain.
His thoughts wandered back to his personal collection of taboo fap material that would make men of culture bow down to him in respect.
His browsing history back home was littered with a variety of degenerate gooning videos. Amongst them? You could only guess.
He shook his head sharply, chasing the thoughts away as his fork clattered against the plate. 'Wait, that's your mother and sister, you horny dumb fuck! Incest's a line even I haven't crossed... yet.'
But the thoughts lingered; his gaze traced the curve of Ariana's neck. Unbeknownst to him, someone was silently watching his every move from across the table...