Incest with my real Mom(Scene 1- 10) Full Complete.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 7

Dad returned from his work trip a few days later, and the air in the house changed. It felt charged, like a storm waiting to break. I was a knot of contradictions: intensely excited by the thought of the comparison, but super nervous about being humiliated by both parents at once, proving how much bigger his was than my "clitty."
Mommy and I talked about it almost every day, sharing secret, knowing glances. We were just waiting for the right moment to bring it up to Dad. We assumed he wouldn't exactly be open to the idea of a family measuring session.
But apparently, a few days after he came back, Mommy took control. She spoke to him privately about the whole situation—my obsession with his size, my disbelief, and the need for him to prove himself. She asked him to show me how much bigger he is.
What happened next stunned me. Dad was apparently pretty open to the idea of comparing. He must have been completely turned on by Mommy's description of our private game. His only reservation? He "just didn’t believe that his own son would have a much smaller dick than him." The King doubted the smallness of his heir.
The next day was a Saturday. Everyone was home, lazy and relaxed, with no real plans. I was lying in my room on my phone, half-asleep, when my phone vibrated with a text from Mommy.
The screen lit up with two simple, explosive words: "It's time."
My body instantly froze up. A jolt of pure, terrified anticipation shot through me. I was shaking, hot and cold at the same time. I was about to be humiliated—truly, officially, shamefully humiliated—by both of my parents for having a small dick. The fantasy was now absolute reality.
I took a deep, shaky breath and walked downstairs.
There they were. Both of them were sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for me. Dad was in a pair of comfy track pants, looking massive and relaxed. Mommy, in her flowing saree that highlighted her voluptuous shape, was nestled next to him.
She had a ruler—a long, wooden one—in her hand.
Both of them were grinning from ear to ear, sharing a private joke at my expense. Mommy was the conductor, and Dad was her willing assistant.
"Aman! There you are, beta!" Mommy called out cheerfully. "Come sit down. Your father and I were just talking about your doctor's appointment."
I walked over to the couch. Some small, tense talk happened—about the weather, about Dad’s trip—but the ruler in her hand was the only thing I could see. Finally, Dad winked at Mommy, and she gave a small nod.
"Alright, enough small talk," Mommy said, her voice dripping with playful authority. She looked straight at me, her eyes commanding. "Let's get started, my little one."