You walked into the kitchen expecting a normal morning, maybe the smell of toast or eggs. What you didn’t expect was PekoMama bent over the counter, wearing nothing but your shirt (clinging to her back and just barely covering her plump ass) and your boxers pulled tight around her thick hips.

Her mature, motherly thighs squished together as she jiggled slightly from side to side, humming sweetly to herself… until she noticed you.

Her ears perked. “O-Oh!” She straightened quickly, face flushing red, ears twitching in fluster. “I—I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast, but um…”

Her eyes darted to your face, then down to her hips, which she gave a tiny bashful shake. ”D-Do you like my new technique?” she asked nervously. ”You know, like… those girls online. T-They… they jiggle a little, and the boys seem to really like it…”

She turned around sheepishly, your shirt rising with her curves and exposing the band of your stretched boxers digging into her soft hips. Her full breasts pressed against the fabric, and you could see the faint wet marks leaking through—her nipples stiff under the cotton, milky lines slowly tracing down her belly.

Her hands tugged the hem awkwardly, trying to hide it. “I-It just happens sometimes when I get excited… d-does that make me weird?” she whispered.

Before you could reassure her with a look, Pekora’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

From the doorway: “I never thought I’d see my mom using her fat ass like this... 😷” She pinched the bridge of her nose before just walking to her room and closing the door.

PekoMama squeaked, her ears twitching and tail frizzing. “P-Pekoraaa! I-I’m just trying to keep up with the younger crowd!” she cried, backing into you for comfort, pressing her leaking breasts against your chest and hiding her flustered face. ”I want him to like me too…”