Roberta's mouse didn't have a response beyond a panged squeal, but seeing as this was fitting for his character, she took it as sporting agreement, and wasted no more time in teasing his round ears against her wide-open labia. As Kyle writhed like the rodent he was to her, his accessories tickled her sensitive flesh and ruffled her pubic whiskers, which only invited her to go for a bigger bite from the mouth of the kitty. Given she was already frothing for him like usual, only more so because of the added spice their roleplay was adding to substantial arousal, it didn't take much more than a nudge and a moist slither for Kyle to pass head-first into his mother's cunt, all the way down to his hips. Her plump fingers still grasped his three-inch legs as they dangled out of the gooey hair-flecked maw, though it was getting tough to keep a firm grip while nectar kept leaking out, glossing Kyle from head to toe and making Roberta's own digits slippery.

            "Oh, me-owww..." the frizzy-haired cat moaned. She shuddered heavily, grasping and squeezing the couch cushions with her free hand in effort to keep from spilling flat to the floor. Her entire complex of bulging curves and maternal cellulite wobbled, becoming increasingly shiny with energetic perspiration while she gave Kyle's half-foot-tall body a twist. Jolting, Roberta cautiously yet with creative purpose began to bend her son's legs, attempting to rub her clit with his unwieldly limbs, but found it too difficult to aim and still keep the mouse in a place she could control his movement, which was complicated by the greasy lack of friction and the fact that the boy was perhaps getting too much into the spirit of playing vermin, scrambling madly against the jaws of feline death. While some motion was appreciated on his parent's part, Kyle was fighting so chaotically, it was beginning to have the opposite effect Roberta had intended.

            She could hardly keep a hold of him now, and in fact was in danger of losing her son completely in her pussy which, while it would suit the erotic story of their couples' therapy game, would make it difficult for her to manage the boy's activity. Roberta had learned from experience now that Kyle was far more effective as a lover when he had her fingers or even a supportive dildo there to guide his motions. Bless his heart, he did his best, but as his default behavior was to quake in a stuttering posture that only mildly got his mother's juices flowing, it was clear that more oversight was necessary until he'd learned to enter her and utilize his own body like the perfect instrument it was meant to be.

            "Oooh... maybe that's a little too much... well, mouse for the pussy in just one gulp," Roberta mumbled, determined to preserve the sexy illusion for both of them, despite Kyle's irksome performance. He was still tremoring so hard, swishing his legs in the sticky bath of her ejaculate while also getting tangled in a few especially long curled hairs, that it required some serious focus, and an unfortunate loss of her raunchy daze, for Roberta to latch her fingertips around her boy's bottom half and get the cat's mouth to spit him out. Slip-n-slide conditions aside, her swollen cunt lips had clamped possessively around him, requiring a tug to break free. A hearty helping of her gloop gushed forth along with a grievously lubed-up Kyle, plopping back into his mother's waiting hand. It took several seconds for the boy to even finish coughing through the layers of motherly cum clogging his throat, though Roberta was too concerned about his acting job as the mouse to notice how long it took her tiny son to resume normal breathing.

            "Baby, that was... definitely the right idea, but you're moving way too fast. Now, of course it makes perfect sense for you to pretend you hate it while the kitty is playing hide and seek with you, and even when she's about to gobble you up... that's half the fun, after all... but once the business starts up, it's okay to take your time. Firm, but slow. You know the way Mommy likes. So, what do you say we towel you off real quick, then have another go at-"

            "NO! I CAN'T!" Kyle screeched. Having hacked through the last syrupy liter of his mom's pussy fluid, the boy hunched forward and hyperventilated with such fervor, it might've looked like he was trying to hump Roberta's palm. His reaction was so vivid, even his occasionally self-absorbed parent noticed the violence of it. "I... can't... do... another... one... now."

            "Sweetie, was that... too much for you?" Roberta softly questioned, genuinely thrown off at the sight of her boy entering a full-blown panic attack almost immediately after recovering the ability to pump air instead of bittersweet ejaculate into his lungs. "I thought we'd be fine, seeing how we've done far more... involved... things than that before, and plus, today you had lots of time to get in the zone, what with the kitty hunting for her mousey. I thought you liked that part, baby! Was Mommy too scary of a kitty for you, huh? I'm sorry, if that's true. I guess I'm a little bigger than most kitties, even to a mousey as small as you."

            Kyle winced. Per usual, his mother was quick to throw out polite apologies, but never for the actual fact that she was engaging in therapy-approved molestation with her helpless son. Trembling so hard he practically slapped himself just while trying to touch his own face, Kyle did his best to keep his skull from traumatically vibrating, clutching his soggy hair and covering his eyes so he didn't have to keep looking directly into the nearby bush-matted entrance to his parent's birth canal. His painted-on whiskers had of course long been cleaned off by the onslaught of goo and abrasive rubbing along Roberta's pubes, to say nothing of his costume's ears, which of course had popped off his head after the first clumsy thrust. He didn't look much like a mouse anymore, but then again his mother's whiskers had also begun to smear and her ears sat crooked atop her head from ruffling her split-end tresses, so neither of them had stayed in their roles for long once the sexual carnage began. Even with his eyes closed, and cool outside air at least partially penetrating the caked-on layer of fluid over his skin, Kyle still couldn't slow his stampeding breath at all.

            "Really, baby, I am sorry if things got a little too realistic for you," Roberta purred. She grunted to stand, using the couch for support while careful not to let her gunked-up son spilled from her open palm. Upon hearing this apology, Kyle almost had to cackle aloud in hysterical laughter at the sheer absurdity, but crippling anxiety kept him in check. Combing her sweaty bangs back and adjusting her pillowy tits in their stirrups, as they'd started to inflate out of the cups, Roberta slumped heavily onto the furniture to lie down, keeping her boy perched close to her face. "I know it must sometimes weigh on you, to be this small all the time and think about what would happen if a real animal got ahold of you. Now, a housecat might not be too bad, but there are worse things out there. That much is true. Just know your Mommy will always be here to watch over you, though, no matter what. So you never have to be afraid of whatever scary hungry things are really out there."

            Kyle nestled into Roberta's clammy palms, fighting for air and also struggling with the sickening irony that he'd probably rather face down a starving grizzly bear at this size than his mom's cooch one more time. At least it would be over quicker with a carnivore. By contrast, Roberta's slobbering womanhood was choosing a slow undoing for its favorite squirm-happy companion. The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that the so-called scariest and hungriest thing imaginable wasn't out there, but already in the house with him and within reaching distance of his mother's grabby mitts. He had no doubt she was closely monitoring the state of his ongoing panic-mode purely so she could decide when it was medically appropriate to plunge her hypersensitive naked offspring back into her tunnel and announce, finally, that whether he was ready or not, she was about to cum.

            Meanwhile, the big cat herself reclined into the pillows, deeply frustrated and only stopped from some intermission-type foreplay by the ugliness of Kyle's cries. If the roleplay wasn't appealing to him, she supposed she owed it to him to find a more constructive method to enhance their relationship, either with a new game, or a different tactic entirely. Though her body was still screaming for release, flushed and pulsing to have its man-shaped prize jammed back in the glory spot again, Roberta piously made the unselfish choice of allowing her son a little while recuperate, though at the very least, she thought, he might take that time while positioned somewhere more pleasurable for both of them. A little give-and-take was key here.

            Prying her cleavage apart, the woman squiggled Kyle in amongst her jugs, which wasn't at all difficult given the volume of cum and sweat glazed on both of them, even while the boy had to fight against the cruel gravity of the upper breast while Roberta rested on her side. Sighing with discontentment, while also reaffirming to herself that she would crack the code to a perfect physical relationship with her favorite boy no matter how long it took or how many orgasms she had to sacrifice, Roberta drifted lazily to sleep, lullabied by the sensation of her boy still squirming and panting against the oppressive boulder of her flabby chest.