A/N: Incredibles 2 is an excellent 2-hour long example of softcore Elastigirl por-

Chapter Nex: Elastimom

"Hey, sweetheart, you want anything from kitchen while I'm in here?"

And there it was again.

"No, mom! I'm good, I'm just… I'm good!"

That was a boldfaced lie. Dash never liked lying to his mom, and he was far from the term 'good', but right now there were other things flitting through his mind, things that increased the tempo of his heartbeat and caused his breath to hitch. Just on the cusp of his hearing, he could tell his mom was finishing up getting herself whatever she was getting from the fridge, and that meant any minute now, she would come back this way… in three… two—

Okay, be cool, be cool… you're Dash, coolest of cool, just—

No amount of mental preparation could have steeled Dash for when his mother sauntered in front of him, seemingly in slow motion, cutting off his distracted view of the TV.

"Sweet baby Jesus," he muttered without any conscious input on his part.

"Excuuuse me, dear—sorry, sorry," she apologized, the haste in her step both considerate and jaw-dropping, the way it made a certain part of her bounce.

"N-not at all!" squeaked Dash, and every muscle in his body tensed, causing him to take on the most unrelaxed posture imaginable. He cleared his throat, managing to wrangle his tongue into submission just as she finished passing, "I, uh.. it's—you look r-really pretty today, mom!"

Before the words could fully leave his lips, Dash realized he had said the entirely wrong thing when his mother jolted to a stop and slowly spun around. With her hair done up in the cutest little ponytail, Helen was dressed in a sweat-logged midriff top and a pair of ultra-sheer leggings that hugged her curves to such a salacious degree that Dash would swear she had been poured into them.

"I look… pretty?" A look of sincere confusion crossed Helen's face and Dash knew why; he hadn't complimented her like that since he was a toddler. "Okay, buster, who are you and what have you done with my son?" she asked with a coy grin, tilting her hips.

If the subtle movement of her shifting figure hadn't struck Dash stupid he might have laughed at her joke, but as it stood, he only managed another high-pitched squeak, this one beyond unintelligible. He was noticing little details about his mother that only served to endear her to him even further, like how her grin seemed to be one part joking and one part dominating, and how her skin seemed to shine with the hard-earned sweat of her morning workout, and how she wasn't wearing socks, which let him see she didn't dabble in nail polish but that each of her little toes were perfectly manicured… All those visual marks and more were ramming into Dash's at speeds that matched his own.

"Wh-what, I can't call you pretty? Want me to call you ugly, then?" he countered in what he hoped was a casual tone though even he could tell his voice was several octaves higher than normal. "I can do that if you—OW!"

While it was obvious his mother could stretch her sinfully decadent body to unfathomable depths, rarely did she use it for petty means, like reaching over until she could pinch Dash over the cheek.

"And I can do that," she said almost victoriously, sticking out her tongue.

Pouting somewhat and rubbing his stinging face, Dash tried to meet his mother right in her playful eyes but his gaze clearly had other plans and kept shooting down to her thighs; thicker than a bowl of oatmeal and not even enough space to squeeze in a finger, he had to marvel how those leggings managed to contain all that goodness. He would swear Edna had crafted it as only she would know his mother's every curve on an almost intimate level….

"Lucky old bat," he muttered, lost in thought.

"Excuse me?"

Dash caught her scent before he caught her movement, the subtle yet demanding way she crossed over to him; his nostrils animatedly inhaled the candied mixture that was her sweat and natural pheromones—damn, she smelled good, she smelled almost sweet, which made no sense to Dash. Not that he had much time to give it further thought when he felt a firm finger under his chin, followed by a pause, like she only wanted to gather his attention.

Whoa….

When Dash focused up, the sight of his mother's groin so close to his face caused his heart to skip a few beats; and it was suddenly all too clear where that heady, bittersweet aroma was emanating from. His eyes were hungrily tracing the way those leggings outlined her most private of areas—he was growing lightheaded from his doggish huffing—so when he felt the slight pressure of the finger under his chin beckoning him upward, it was with a heavy pang of loss that he heeded the silent command and followed.

There was something playful glinting in those maternal eyes, playful and voracious, and somewhere in the back of Dash's fuzzy mind he just knew he had to get away. Get away from her touch, from her presence, out of her sight—he didn't understand it, he didn't know why, this was his mom after all, but the way she held him was flashing off all kinds of danger signs.

"Did you just call your extremely vibrant and youthful mother… an old bat?" she asked slowly, and with her usual passive drawl it sounded more like a purr than anything.

Further danger signs hazed about over Dash's mindscape. The scent between those thick thighs had all but consumed him. Even while meeting her accusatory glance, his nostrils struggled to get more of her effluence into his lungs, like he might die without it. Before this moment, Dash had only ever entertained that sweaty equated to gross, which correlated to funny, yet… the musky aroma wafting off his mother's figure was anything but gross, though it did make him feel funny, it wasn't the usual 'haha' funny, more like… butterflies-in-the-stomach, knees-like-jelly funny….

"I… I wasn't talkin' about you, mom," Dash somehow managed to get out, and when he swallowed nervously, the piercing silence of the living room all but made sure even the next-door neighbors could hear it. "It—I was thinkin' about crazy Edna…."

Still, Helen held her son by the chin, surveying his face with a level of scrutiny that Dash was all too familiar with. She was looking past his face, past his words; she was reading his mind, he could feel it, those probes digging deep and uncovering more than he wanted her to, than he would ever speak out loud. He was caught in more ways than one, body and mind, with the slightest movement she made, like switching weight from one foot to the other, causing him to wince with a longing that he didn't really understand and thus didn't know how to fight.

"Okay," she finally said after what felt like hours, and she playfully flicked him upside the chin, giggling when he immediately shrank back into the couch. "Must have been my hearing going out on me, eh?"

It was an obviously rhetorical question and Dash smartly remained silent. Whatever battle they had just fought, she was clearly the victor—she had succeeded in gleaning what she wanted from him, even if he didn't exactly know what that was.

And that annoyed Dash.

"'Course it's your ears goin' out on you," he blurted out with a challenging smirk dredged up from the bowels of what remained of his pride, "you're gettin' up there, mom, and you know what they say: hearing's the first thing to go!"

It was if those words had physically changed the temperature when Dash was struck with a frost so biting he would swear Frozone had just swung by.

Oh, were he so lucky.

The smug expression on his mother's face had all but vanished, replaced by this demonically wide-eyed glare that only served to make Dash wish he could go back in time and punch himself right in his big, stupid mouth.

"Oh… so that's what they say, is it?" Her voice, strangled through grit teeth, was like a snake entwining itself around his ears, hissing sinisterly. She took a step towards the couch and Dash instinctively tensed both legs for the long run. "I think I might have missed a few steps in teaching you some manners, sweetheart. Let me fix that."

"Nope."

He blasted off without hesitation, pushing his speed to the limit, and got as far as the next cushion before something dropped over him like a nuke, pinning him on his front.

"Wh-what in the—" Confused that he had been halted, and so easily at that, Dash tried scrambling for freedom but whatever was currently crushing him into the cushion didn't give a single inch. His struggling continued for a few more seconds before fatigue kicked in and he gave up, feeling extremely daft. What in the world had made him think he could escape his mother? Hadn't he had been taught that lesson numerous times in the past?

"Look at you, gracefully accepting defeat," Helen chided from over him, arms and legs crossed rather royally. "I'm not too heavy, am I?"

In truth, she was, and the possibility of a cracked spine was a very real one, but the most dopiest smile continued to grow over Dash's face as the softness of Helen's rump worked him over. The warmth was soothing, like being sat on by a giant marshmallow, soft yet solid, and just a little bit wet, which he guessed had to be the sweat she accumulated during her work-out.

"When you feel like you've found your manners again, let me know, Dash," she told him wriggling comfortably from side to side, "and we'll talk about letting you up.

Even if she never let him up, and a broken spine did whisk Dash off to the next world, he couldn't honestly say he'd be upset. The biggest, thickest ass he had ever seen in his short life was using him as a chair cushion, like a throne for a queen, so where was the problem? Hell, if anything, Dash was envious of his own back, regretting that it wasn't his face she had sat on. And maybe Helen seemed to gather as much with that otherworldly maternal instinct of hers because she pressed down harder, further embedding him into the seat.

"This is supposed to be punishment, buster, not a treat," she said, though the slight smile playing over her lips was clear as day.

"I th-think you missed a few days of proper punishment sc-school," Dash garbled out with a chocked chuckle, and he quickly paid for his jibe when those massive twin mounds of heated flesh bounced over his back.

"Excuse me, young man? Did you say something?"

"N-nope, not a thing, mom…."

A/N: This was originally going to be way longer and everything but then I realized the movie did whatever I was gonna do ten times better.