Annette Garnick walked into the living room where her son Andy sat watching TV.

“Honey,” she said. “I found this old 60s tiger-striped bikini in the attic. But I think it shrunk! Either that or Mommy’s been eating too much cheese. Take a look. Is this too small for my body, Andy?”

Andy’s eyes nearly popped out, leering at the lewd spectacle.

Annette had always had big boobs, but now at the age of 44, the fleshy mounds had begun to settle, their rounded bottoms heavy on her ribcage. They swayed and bounced obscenely as Annette posed herself. The rotting bikini top just barely covered the mom’s bright red areole and thumb-sized nipples, while the bottoms gave up completely against her large rear end. Annette’s fleshy asscheeks tingled with goosebumps as she stuck her near-naked bum in Andy’s face.