Mom Inspects Me

“I don’t understand how you’re suppose to wear these…” I said out loud to my twin brother. We needed to wear tights for an event and had never worn any before in our 18 years of life. Our mom gave us some random pairs that we put on over our boxer briefs. You could see the fabric bunching underneath and it was uncomfortable. “I guess you don’t wear underwear with these?”

“You do you… but I’m wearing underwear underneath, I don’t care how it looks.” My brother responded back. He left the room to have our mom check the fit. She was pretty annoyed that we waited till the last minute to let her know we needed these.

So I took my briefs off and put them back on. I don’t know what it was about the compression feeling, but it made me aroused and a sizable bulge was forming. I’ve never considered myself one of those freaks with a huge horse dick. I noticed teammates before and felt like I was bigger than some of them but I never really looked that long– didn’t want to feel like a creep.

Standing normal, the cloak top I had to wear just covered my crotch but being tall, when I lifted my arms, you could see my bulge.

I heard my mom calling to ask if the tights would work so I figured I’d see what she had to say and didn’t think much about trying to cover myself more.

I walked out to the hall and my mom was already laughing at my brother and I because the costume looked ridiculous. She asked if it felt ok. I wasn’t really sure what it should look/feel like.

Then my mom came up to me. Since I’m taller, she mentioned the cloak didn’t really cover my ass. She then said “you have that nice toned runner’s booty” and then pinched my cheek. My mom never really remarked on my physical looks before so it was throwing me off a bit. I also felt my bulge growing with the sudden semi sexual nature. Hearing what she said about my butt I grew curious what she would say if she saw my front side.

She had me turn and saw that front side hardly covered my crotch. She made a comment “what perv teacher at your school selected these for you to wear?”

I don’t know what came over me but I mentioned “when I lift my arms up it’s a bit revealing.”

“Let me see” she said quickly. So I lifted my arms, making the top lift above my crotch and my bulge outline was showing clear as cut. You could make out the length, thickness, you could see the mushroom head. Her eyes were fixed on my crotch for longer than needed to see the issue. She finally broke her gaze and told my brother to lift his cloak.” He did so but since he still had boxers on underneath he just had a slight bump out by the crotch.

“These should work fine– go ahead and change out of them.” My mom instructed. My brother and I started to turn around to head back to the bedrooms when she interjected: “Ummm, I didn’t tell you to go change… come back here please.” She said in a commanding tone but also sounding annoyed.

I walked back over and she pulled a chair from the table and sat down about a foot away from me, her head more level with my abdomen/mid region. “Your brother’s pair will work but I’m not sure if yours will– take your cloak off.” She ordered, noticeably without a ‘please’ present.

I lifted the the cloak off and was left just standing there in the tights. “Step forward.” She ordered again; her tone more and more dominating and less motherly. Being ordered to come back, remove the top, step forward and her eyes just glued to my mid section was causing me to get more aroused.

Time felt to move slow and I could feel my mom’s eyes tracing every line… But I wanted her to see. I then went and even traced the outline of my bulge with my finger– started at the sac, along the shaft up against my leg, around the head and back across the other side. I didn’t know what got over me but seeing her not break eye contact I wanted to show off a bit. I then said: “see what I mean? Very revealing.”

She finally spoke and just responded: “yea it is” while her eyes still didn’t lift. And I didn’t re-cover myself. Almost like a game of chicken. At this point I’m sure she could see it twitching.

She finally broke her silence: “I think we’re going to have to try different sizes for you. What size are those?”

“I don’t know, I just put them on” I answered.

“Well let me check” she replied quickly.

She then went over to my backside, began to pull the material away from my skin exposing my butt to her eyes. I didn’t really care– it was just my butt. “There’s no tag– I think you have these on backwards. Let me check the front” as she quickly turned her focus to my other side.

Time was moving both so fast but also agonizingly slow– this duality reflecting my own conscious: I want her to see me, my flesh, but also not wanting the moment to rush past.

She took her hand, pulled the fabric from my skin–her eyes locked on my abdomen–she slipped her hand slowly down the front of the tights. I could feel my heartbeat pulsing in my dick; I could feel the heat of her hand. She found the tag but upon grabbing it the back of her hand brushed against my shaft. She didn’t react. She began to roll the fabric inside out to see the tag but would also expose me. Her eyes looked down and as they did I took my hand to cover myself and just as my hand dropped my full member was exposed, sticking straight out. I managed to grab hold of the tip but much of the shaft was left uncovered for her view.

Like a snap, time returned to normal. “These are a medium” she plainly remarked, removing her hand, and the waist band snapping back to my skin.

“I’ll go get more sizes I can help you try later.”

“Sounds good” was all I could muster. Sure felt like she did that all on purpose.