Kyle hunkered in terror behind the towering pillar of a coffee table leg, crouched to make himself less of an easy target, but also because he lacked the strength or will to risk scurrying any further while the countdown to his undoing continued. This wasn't much of a hiding place. Yet anything more daring would only lead to his capture even sooner in their very first roleplay, and every additional second Kyle could buy himself was a blessing before an inevitable reunion with his mother's foaming crotch.
"...twenty-seven... twenty-six... twenty-five..." Roberta boomed, a hand covering her eyes while she faced the corner of the room. She'd counted down from fifty, only agreeing to such a high number after Kyle nearly made himself vomit by insisting that a longer count would make the game more effective for them both, when really he knew anything shorter would make it impossible to outrun his titanic parent and her floor-thudding strides. Of course escape was impossible either way, but without such minor victories, Kyle might've just given up on life.
On the final numbers before she turned to hunt for her quavering offspring, Roberta shimmied her mammoth ass like a pendulum, two cellulite-wobbling swings for every count. Much of her body was on horrendous display, as she'd stripped to only a velvet-black bra and panties. A pair of Halloween cat ears adorned her frizzy locks like a crown, and painted-on whiskers streaked over her cheeks, though even with these elements, Kyle found it awfully difficult to be realistically immersed in his mother's chosen cat-and-mouse fantasy when all he saw was a tubby over-the-hill mountain of a woman in her sickeningly skimpy underwear and two pieces of a costume that would surely slide off once she sweated hard enough in pursuit of her boy. Not even his own accessories, consisting of rounded mouse ears and matching whiskers, could help convince him that this was anything less than another sexual nightmare, only made more theatrically distinctive in a way that he'd have an even harder time scrubbing it from his traumatic memory.
"...three, two, one! Ready or not, baby, here Mommy cuuuuums!" Roberta sang, machine-gun giggling just to ensure he knew precisely what sort of coming she meant.
She turned and began peering around the room, wiggling her broad nose and stretching out her "claws" in an attempt to get into character, though Kyle wasn't fooled in the slightest, particularly when the mega-cat took one sneaky step that rattled all the furniture. Tiptoeing forward, Roberta hunched to the floor in as cat-like a position as she could emulate, which only meant her hot air balloon tits and paunch were free to hang. The giantess crawled around the room, still sniffing the air, and at least in that respect, Kyle was half-convinced his mother was capable of smelling his fear and following it straight to completion.
"I wonder where that mousey's gotten off to... he couldn't have gone far, what with his puny little legs and all. And I'm sure it's much harder to run fast when the mousey's got a precious mousey-erection slowing him down," Roberta crooned. "Yes, sadly for the mousey, his body knows the natural order of things better than his brain does. He wants to come to the kitty and follow the food chain, but he's too scared of new things, so he just lies to himself and runs away, like all mouseys do. But the kitty's got to do what kitty's do, too."
More than once as he circled the table leg to keep himself hidden from view, the six-inch lad expected his mother's gaze to snag on him, followed by the telltale thumping as she clumsily scrambled after him on all fours. Again, however, Roberta passed her son, squatting herself even lower to see beneath the couch. With her face to the ground and her derriere jutted up in the air, Kyle was gifted with a rather unorthodox and utterly repugnant view from the back and between his mother's legs. All her shuffling around the carpet on her knees had unseated her panties from their central position, with much of the fabric now pinched tight between her cheeks, but most egregious of all, the thin strip riding along her taint had twisted to the side, allowing most of Roberta's hair-pocked vaginal lips to floss with the string of her underwear. Pubes brushed to and fro with every pass, and as the woman dipped especially low to squint into the darkness for signs of vermin, her wide-open nethers slobbered a glistening crystal dollop of cum that nearly touched the floor before the strand finally broke and landed in a tiny puddle under the crescent shadow of Roberta's bottom-heavy hemispheres.
"Oh, the pussy's getting very hungry for her mousey now," Roberta gutturally announced. Propping herself against the couch cushions, she reached between her legs, prying her cunt lips apart. This encouraged even more fluid to dangle out while Roberta probed herself, counter-clockwise screwing her thumb around her most sensitive region until her knees shook. Seeing this, Kyle latched himself to the table leg in anticipation for the possibility that his mother might simply flop onto her stomach with the force of a whole timbered jungle from finger-banging joy. "Yes, she's absolutely salivating for her lunch. Are you going to come out and feed the pussy, mousey, or are you going to make her cum find you herself? The choice is yours, only... the good kitty might become a bad pussy if she gets too impatient. She might just devour her mousey whole when she finally gets him in her paws."
Kyle had to cover his mouth to keep from either retching or yelping at this tapestry of abominations taking place on such a grand scale so nearby. His anxiety was only made more lethal by the fact that he now couldn't tell where his mother ended and the cat began, when it came to her coy threats. Was he actually intended to surrender himself, and if he did, would that really mean a gentler time while the pussy had its snack? That seemed unlikely, but Kyle was also scared shitless of doing anything that made his situation even less livable. Sticking to his rodent instincts, the boy remained silent and concealed from the cat's eyes, or so he thought.
"Is it just me, or did I see a mousey tail around the corner?" Roberta purred. She awkwardly pivoted herself around, grasping the table for purchase, and peeked behind the leg of the table. Kyle sunk to his knees, defeated, and again just concentrated on keeping himself from upchucking in hysteria while his gargantuan mom meaningfully eyed his exposed junk. "Oh, my mistake. That wasn't a tail I saw..."
Arching her plump fingers like a claw again, Roberta took a playful swipe at her boy, scooping him into her fist. Her cheeks were already pink from all the crawling around, and her breaths verged on huffing, but the smile on her artificially whiskered face told Kyle it was all worth it, to his mother at least. The pointed ears had gone crooked, but were quickly adjusted. Roberta's crow-footed eyes twinkled, for an instant seeming almost feline-yellow, as she brought him to her face and dramatically circled her tongue around the rim of her thin lips.
"Me-ow, you really gave this pussy the ol' run-around, didn't you, mousey? Luckily, she's fully prepared to return the favor. Maybe with a reach-around instead." Roberta parted her fist enough so her doll-sized boy's lower half could flail out of her hand. She tickled a fingertip under his flaccid cock for an insistent rubbing then, when it didn't react, licked her skin to dampen the runway. "Only teasing you. Don't you know cats like to play with their food? But this pussy's not in the mood for too much play before the meal. She's positively ravenous. Don't worry, she won't bite... much, anyway."
After laying a moist kiss on her boy's whole head, Roberta's fist descended between her spanned-out limbs toward the hungry party. The black panties now stretched smooth over her drooling womanhood again, but there was enough of a soaking patch in the silk for Kyle to recognize his enemy's messy table manners even before his mom had peeled back the garment, revealing the hairy kitty underneath once again. Rather than driving her squirming son straight toward her crotch, Roberta's thumb and middle finger softly stretched the damp pink orifice as wide as it would go, then proceeded to alternately open and close her pussy lips like a lapping cat mouth, complete with unkempt stray-animal pubes flapping and flinging stray cum globules with each flap.
"Yum-yum-yum," Roberta whispered. "Kitty's got to have her milk now. Are you going to quench her thirst, mousey? You're much smaller than a cow, after all, but all milk is good milk to a pussy."