Each tasting room brings them about half a dozen tastes to drink—a glass or two in volume, since they’re so small. After the first four room, Mommy is giggling and rosy and tells her baby boy she might have had enough—but she can’t resist when he asks if she’s sure and makes big sweet puppy eyes at her. He’s her baby and he planned this for her!

Six tasting rooms deep and it is starting to show. Son picked Mommy’s dress for today and of course he picked something low cut that she can’t wear a bra with. The neckline is only getting lower as she gets drunker and forgets to adjust the it, failing to notice how much jiggling cleavage she’s showing off. Son is watching greedily. Mommy stumbles on her way to the next room and says something again about maybe being done, struggling to put her words together with her wine numb tongue. Once again her son’s sweet face wins her over and she agrees to keep going—he planned so much for her!

Eight tasting rooms deep and mommy is flushed and struggling to stand up straight. The tops of her areolas are showing over her neckline. She’s leaning on her son and giggling. Finally, he agrees she’s had enough tasting and takes her out to dinner.

They get seated and mommy is so wine drunk her eyes are having a hard time focusing. She tries to read the menu and slurs her words as she tries to read them out load to herself since she can’t seem to keep words in her head. Her baby boy promises to take care of it.

Dinner isn’t a reason to stop drinking, of course. It’s a multi course meal and supposedly they’ve learned so much about wine today that baby boy just has to order a new wine with every course (providing consistent tips to the waiter so Mommy won’t get cut off). He urges his Mommy to finish her glass before each new course, swapping his glass for hers when she’s mostly finished hers. Either she doesn’t notice, or she doesn’t care, happily guzzling down wine at his prodding.

They’re pressed up together in a corner booth and baby boy starts running his hands over her thighs, pulling her skirt shorter and shorter to match her lower and lower neckline. Mommy is so wasted she can’t keep her hands to herself, touching her son’s pretty little cock over his pants, feeling how hard he is for her. Mommy isn’t wearing panties either, of course. By the end of the meal, baby boy is sliding his fingers into his mommy’s wet slit, sliding over her clit as she moans and chugs her second glass of dessert wine—and the waiters are watching from the corner.

Once the bill is paid, mommy has to almost be carried out of the restaurant. She’s draped over her son, blabbing gibberish, feet barely meeting the ground. Her baby boy only makes it a couple of blocks before he pulls her into a dark alley. He can’t resist anymore. He pulls her dress down the last inch so his mommy’s tits are out. Mommy responds by moaning and clumsily grabbing her own tits. Her sweet angelic baby boy quickly pulls his cock out and then holds her up from behind, pulling her skirt up so he can rut into his mommy’s soft wet cunt as her tits bounce.