CHAPTER 125: MARSHMALLOWS VS BOUNCY CASTLES

Yelena hadn’t expected this, her heart lurched so violently she thought it might leap into her throat.

Charlotte was the kind of sleeper who could snooze through thunderstorms and fire alarms; once she was out, she was gone until morning.

That was why Yelena hadn’t bothered worrying about her daughter coming downstairs, why she’d been so brazen, straddling Mika with her bra slipped low, her bare skin pressed against his face, lost in the heat of the moment like there wasn’t another soul in the house.

But now Charlotte stood right there in the doorway, eyes wide, taking in the scene from above, and Yelena’s whole body locked up.

Mika reacted instantly, pulling Yelena’s bra back over her nipples, trying to shield at least some semblance of modesty, but it still didn’t make it any better.

To an outsider, Yelena wasn’t just hovering, she was riding, flushed face tilted down, breasts mashed against Mika’s head, every line of her body screaming intimacy.

She froze, stammering mentally over what to say, but before words could tumble out, Charlotte’s sharp, indignant voice cut through the thick air.

"Mama, how could you do this?! How could you steal him!?"

"...How could you steal Mika away from me while I was sleeping?!"

She jabbed a finger at her mother, cheeks hot with outrage, chest rising and falling fast, looking not like a betrayed daughter but like a girl whose toy had been snatched.

"You’re seducing him with those—" She flung a glance at Yelena’s breasts stuffed against Mika’s face. "...with those big things, it’s not fair!"

Yelena blinked, thrown. For a heartbeat she thought Charlotte truly believed it, that her daughter’s eyes had seen through to the truth and would never forgive her.

Panic curled in her belly.

But then, as Charlotte’s flustered face shifted in the lamplight, Yelena saw it for what it was, this wasn’t genuine rage.

It was the same flustered reaction Charlotte always had whenever she caught Yelena teasing Mika, the pouting protests of a girl who hated losing attention, not the fury of someone who thought her mother was betraying her.

Relief washed over her, though her cheeks still burned with embarrassment.

’Why am I even trying to convince her?’

Yelena thought, lips parting then snapping shut. Charlotte wouldn’t even really believe she was seducing him. If it had been any other woman, Charlotte would have been clawing and biting by now, truly livid.

But with her own mother?...No.

To Charlotte this was just play, the same rough back-and-forth they always had over Mika’s affection. And that realization loosened Yelena’s panic into something bolder, almost mischievous.

Her expression shifted, her voice taking on a playful edge as she hugged Mika tighter, pressing his face deeper into the pillowy swell of her chest.

"So what, Charlotte? So what if I stole Mika while you were sleeping? That’s your fault, isn’t it?...Sleeping while a man like this is in your home. Such a wasted opportunity."

Her smirk widened as she wriggled deliberately, suffocating Mika’s muffled breath against her cleavage.

"You’re still an amateur at this sort of thing. If you really wanted him, you should’ve used your time better."

Charlotte stomped her foot, breasts bouncing with the motion, her voice rising into a frustrated cry.

"I did! Mama—I did!" Her hands balled into fists, her whole body squirming with indignant energy. "I snuck into Mika’s room this night to have fun with him! I even slipped into his bed and waited for hours, but he never came to his room."

"I thought he’d left to get something from the kitchen, but no—"

She jabbed her finger again, furious.

"...he was here with you! Wrapped up in your arms, while I waited like a fool! That’s not fair!"

The words stunned Mika, but Yelena’s laugh rang out, low and triumphant, like a cat who’d cornered a mouse.

"And Mama, look at you!" Charlotte’s cheeks turned a deeper red as she ranted on. "You’re supposed to be the older one, but you’re using cheap tricks like shoving your breasts in his face. You should be ashamed. Put some clothes on!"

"Ashamed? Don’t you dare lecture me about shame, little girl."

Yelena only smirked wider, hugging Mika’s head tighter to her chest, ignoring his muffled protest.

"You’re the same one who used to prance around in nothing but underwear when Mika was around, desperate for his eyes on you. You wanted attention then, and you want it now. Don’t pretend otherwise."

She arched her back purposefully, breasts squashing and smothering Mika’s face until he groaned into her skin.

"And no, I won’t put clothes on. I’ll do exactly this. I’ll smother him in my breasts, and he’ll love every second...What are you going to do about it, hmm?"

Charlotte’s whole body shook with frustration, her chest heaving as her mother taunted her. Her eyes burned, but not with tears, with fiery competitiveness.

"Fine then!" She burst out, voice cracking with determination. "If you’re going to do that, then I’ll do it too! I’ve got just as good tits as you, Mama!"

With a swift, defiant motion, she tugged her nightgown over her head, baring herself down to skimpy underwear.

Her plump breasts spilled free, her ass curving out with a youthful bounce, her whole body lithe and challenging. Yelena’s eyes widened slightly, but Charlotte didn’t stop, she launched herself forward, bare feet slapping the floor, then leapt up onto the sofa with reckless energy.

Her body twisted midair, hair whipping around her shoulders, and she landed right in Mika’s lap with a victorious grin.

"Move aside, Mama!" She declared, shoving Yelena’s hip to wedge herself in, pressing her own chest forward eagerly. "Give me some space too!"

Her breasts, soft and round, then mashed against Mika’s other cheek as she squirmed in his lap.

"Here, Mika, here, have mine too!" She giggled breathlessly, her indignation turning into challenge. "Mine are just as nice as hers!"

Her body wriggled insistently, pressing and grinding, her breasts rubbing into Mika’s face with stubborn, almost childish fervor, her voice ringing out in high, desperate defiance.

"See? See! Mine are just as good and even better!"

And suddenly, Mika found himself trapped between the two of them, Yelena smothering him on one side, Charlotte on the other, both breasts pressing in, warm, soft, and overwhelming.

Yelena, however, wasn’t the type to back down, especially not to her cheeky daughter. She tilted her head, a slow smile curling across her lips, and deliberately shifted her weight forward until her heavy breasts pressed Mika’s other cheek, smothering him from the opposite side.

"Leave Charlotte alone, Mika." She purred in a sing-song tone, her bust wobbling as she deliberately squashed it against his face. "Feel mine instead."

"Mine are not like hers. She’s still just a silly little school girl. But I’m a grown woman. Mine are softer, plumper, filled with maturity she could never dream of."

"...Don’t you want to feel the difference of a real woman’s chest against your face?" She gave a little wiggle that made Mika grunt into her cleavage, his head jostling helplessly between them.

Charlotte gasped, scandalized, and pressed harder against the other side of his face, her perky breasts flattening against his skin like two stubborn pillows battling for dominance.

"No, no, no! Don’t you dare look at her, Mika! Look at me! Even though I’m in school, mine are just as big as hers! And they’re better, they’re firmer, perkier, elastic!" She shoved herself with exaggerated determination, bouncing her chest so that Mika’s nose squeaked against her skin. "See how they push back at you? Mama can’t do that! Hers just flop around. Mine spring back, mine are lively, mine are better!"

Yelena scoffed, rolling her eyes with exaggerated disdain.

"Lively? Please. Elastic just means they haven’t grown into real womanhood yet. Look at mine, full, heavy, soft. They don’t bounce like rubber balls because they’re meant to comfort, to overwhelm."

"...Mika, don’t waste your face on her little toys when you can drown in mine."

She hugged his head tighter, his muffled voice lost somewhere between her cleavage, as if trying to protest but only managing a strangled groan.

Charlotte puffed out her cheeks, smacking Mika’s shoulder with one hand as if to grab his attention.

"Don’t drown in her marshmallows, Mika! Marshmallows get soggy! Mine are bouncy castles! You can bounce on them all day and never get tired!"

She gave another shove, her breasts pushing into him so forcefully he nearly toppled back into the sofa cushions.

"Bouncy castles?" Yelena barked out a laugh, her voice rich and teasing. "You’re ridiculous. Who wants to bounce? Men want to sink, to melt, to suffocate in a woman’s warmth. Mika wants comfort, not a trampoline."

Charlotte shot back without missing a beat.

"Ha! You’re just jealous that mine still point up to the heavens while yours are pointing down to the floor, Mama!...Isn’t that right, Mika?"

"...You don’t want floor-pointing breasts, you want heaven-pointing breasts!" She jiggled hers, smirking when they sprang back into shape like taut springs.

Yelena gasped in offense, clutching her chest dramatically.

"How dare you! These—" She pushed her breasts more forcefully into Mika’s cheek until his face squished comically against them. "...these are the breasts of a goddess! Weighted with the wisdom and experience of age. Not some silly balloons you blow up and let deflate."

Charlotte laughed breathlessly, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she shoved right back.

"Goddess? More like grandma’s cushions! Mika doesn’t want wisdom, he wants fun! He wants playful, perky, exciting! Look at how they fit in his face, look at how springy they are!" She gave another vigorous wiggle, Mika’s face trapped like dough between two rolling pins.

The argument spiraled, both women taking turns to insult and boast, Mika’s muffled groans the only sign of life between their breasts.

"Mika, touch mine, they’re like velvet clouds!"

"Velvet clouds? More like saggy sofa cushions! Mine are like firm peaches, Mika, peaches you can bite into!"

"Peaches rot! These are melons, ripe and juicy, a feast for a real man!"

"Melons? They’re watermelons! Too big to even hold! Mine are the perfect size, Mika, just right for your hands!"

"Too small to notice, more like! You call those breasts? Mine could feed nations!"

"Pfft! Nations? Mine could feed the entire world!"

This happened, all the while, Mika’s face was smashed and rubbed and smothered from both sides, his expression completely buried, his muffled protests ignored in their playful war.

He tried to breathe through his nose, only to be buried deeper by one breast or the other until his entire head was red and hot with frustration.

Finally, with a groan that broke through both pairs of chests, Mika’s patience snapped.

"ENOUGH!"

His hands shot out, one to each side, and...

SMACK! SMACK!

...both palms landed squarely on their asses with sharp slaps that made both women yelp in unison.

"Hyaa!~"

"Nooo!~"

"That’s enough, both of you!" Mika barked, glaring at them with flushed cheeks and wild hair. "Stop smothering me, stop bickering about who’s got the better tits, and stop stuffing into my mouth and the other in my nose!"

"...How will I breath if you block both holes, damn it!"

His voice was firm, angry even, though the sight of both women frozen, cheeks red, asses stinging, made the corners of his mouth twitch...