xxx-I Had to Hold My Son’s Cock

By Lauren McAllister

I’d been having a little trouble with darling Danny since his father left. I dedicated myself to “motherly understanding” till my teeth were ready to explode, but after four or five years, the rebellious-child-from-a-broken-home schtick gets a little bit old. I mean, I’m the one, in my room, pounding on my whatzit till I’m cross-eyed every night because I can’t trust him home alone long enough to go out on a date! I was beginning to forget what a cock looked like! There were a few reasonable facsimiles buried in the bottom of my sock drawer but they weren’t really the same. Though, the vibrating one did possess a certain charm after a couple of wines in front of the flat screen.

Things had calmed down a tad between myself and the demon child, as of late. But I knew in my heart that it couldn’t last. If only I’d have had the same Nostradamian insight into my marriage! Still, it was nice to get a small break from l’enfant terrible. Alas, things took their inevitable turn for “completely fucked up” on Dan’s 16th birthday. Never the swiftest of fish, my idiot son decides he’s going to go off camping with his buddies to celebrate his “coming of age.”

His “coming of age” ceremony included a six pack of malt liquor, two joints and a face-plant into the campfire. Actually, his face got off fairly lightly – just his eyebrows and all the hair on one side of his head. The main damage was to his hands and forearms, as he tried to break his drunken fall. Needless to say, he was majorly messed up. It’s amazing how you can be so worried about someone’s well-being and want to strangle them at the same time. And this was only the beginning of my woes.

FIVE DAYS, he had to spend in hospital! My healthcare coverage hiccupped and died after three. I got bills like the Beatles used to get fan mail. I spent so much time on the phone with them, debt collectors named their children after me. $72,000 later, I picked him up from the hospital in my car and had to sell it in the next day.

Things were a little strained between young Daniel and I, upon arriving back at chez moi. Neither one of us seemed particularly thrilled with the other’s company. Which was tough, considering I had to feed him, help change his clothes and comb his hair. His hands were just two big blobs of plaster of Paris.

The “ignoring the little swine, was going really well but I could see something was wrong. He’d been squirming, like he had pop rocks going off up his as, for about an hour. Shit! (And I was hoping I didn’t mean that literally) This was the moment we’d both been dreading. I walked over and stood in front him as his squiggled on the couch. “Come on,” I announced darkly, “we’re going to the bathroom.

“I don’t have to go,” was his panicked response. Hey, considering what was about to happen, I didn’t blame him. Hey, if I could’ve afforded a private peepee nurse, I would have paid her double the going rate.

“Well, unless you can figure out a way to undrink that bucket of soda you had with dinner, this is gonna happen.”

Slowly, he got up. The look he gave me…I wanted to brain him with the side table. What a little ingrate! When we got to the bowl, I got down on my knees and unzipped his pants. Boy, had it been a while since I did something like that! Danny was looking away, like when a medical worker is about to jab you with a needle and you don’t want to watch. There was a little reaction when I took his penis in my hand. A little reaction from him, that is. My heart nearly smashed my left tit into my face, it was beating so hard.

My hands were shaking a little, as I aimed it at the bowl. Suddenly, Danny let out this little grunt and I could feel the stream of wee wee coursing through his shaft. Wow! A new experience, at my age! I’m ashamed to admit that I was more than a little aroused by it. Yes, I know he was my son.

Yes, I know he was only 16. Yes, I know that I was thinking about it later that night when I was wanking myself into a stupor. If that makes me a terrible mother, at least I had some comfort in the fact that Danny was a terrible son.

It seemed to gush for minutes. He must have had a bladder the size of a weather balloon. Finally, his body had this little shiver and then the steady stream slowed to a trickle. I gave his knob a little jiggle.

“What are you doing?” he bellowed.

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Shake it?”

“A little.”

“Well, you don’t have to wash this piss out of your Fruit of the Looms. I do. I want it dry,” I complained as I continued to shake it.
“That’s enough. Put it back in now, please?”

As I was carefully shoving Mr. Pant Monster into his underwear, I couldn’t help but notice that it was definitely plumper than when I’d first cast eyes on the tubular fellow..

I won’t scar you with the gruesome details of “No. 2”. Believe you me, there was nothing remotely sexy about that. On the other hand, and to my everlasting shame, I grew quite fond of “No. 1.” I found myself offering Danny water, soda, tea, coffee – anything to fill up that bladder of his so I could hold “it” again. I became quite brazen. My post-pee shake got a little longer each time. Hey, if he wasn’t going to complain – I was going to make that thing as large – I mean “dry” as possible. Removing bits of underwear fluff from the head had also become a minor obsession. There was no piece so small, that it didn’t demand my attention. And each time I returned his warm, pink spiggot back to their cottony home, it was just that little bit more swollen. Once, I even thought I felt a throb! I instantly self-lubricated and my nipples shot out like Whack-a-Mole heads at a fairground midway. Blush!

Then, I’d go wank myself blind. I was spending so much time feeding my vagina that I had almost completely forgotten how broke I was because of him.
On the third day, things go serious.

“It’s bath time,” I informed him.

I didn’t get nearly the fight out of him that I was expecting. Perhaps we were both looking forward to it, I have no idea what was going through his head. Well, the big one. I saw plenty of what was going through the small one.

As the water filled the tub, I undressed him. Admittedly, a little slower that I could of. I let his jeans slide slowly down his legs and then gently peeled his underwear off. Mr. Happy was already a tad engorged. After his shirt came off, I wrapped his two Mummy arms in plastic bags and then helped him into the tub.

Danny was a little taken aback when I took my shirt off. I told him I didn’t want to ruin my blouse. Besides, he’d seen me in bikinis. It was no big deal.

The truth of the matter was – I’d spent an hour picking out just the right bra. I didn’t want it to be too obvious but I wanted them displayed to full advantage. It’s a fine sartorial line the walk between subtly provocative and incestuous mommy slut. Eventually, I picked something lacey and fairly revealing, plopped my tits into it and hoped for the best.

I started wonderfully soaping up his chest and arms. My new best friend was showing some signs of life, but remained relatively flaccid, considering my boobs were hanging just underneath his chin.

“Now, I’m going to have to wash it,” I informed him. “Don’t get embarrassed if you get an erection.” Danny tried to remain calm but I could tell he wanted to jump out of the water and skedaddle. I proceeded with my stewardess-like lecture. “A: I’ve already seen one. And B: With the warm water and the soap, it’s impossible not to.”

He nodded his head and I dropped my hand under the water. Perhaps now, I had gone from being a minor pervert to just plain evil. No one has had their balls more lovingly sudsed that Danny did that day. I rolled them around tenderly in my hands, I slid a soapy pinky up and down his scrotum and circled the end of my index finger around his pucker hole. He was as hard as a rock. The head of his johnson was sticking up above the water line like Ko Tapu (look it up).

As I bent down to get better access, I let my left breast press against his arm. Now his penis was actually twitching. I turned my washing of the shaft into a work of art. Starting just above his nards, I slowly (agonizingly so) soaped up his baby-maker, rubbing up and down in tiny increments as I languorously made my way up to the business end.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?” I threw in, for no particular reason.

He body began stiffening as I approached the end of his barrel. Danny’s eyes were closed and his breathing seemed to deepen.

“Stop,” he finally yelled. “STOP!” But, it was too late. Huge dollops of splooge were erupting out the end of his knob. It was shuddering in my hand like a vomiting frat boy on a wild Friday night. It was all I could do not gasp. My little pleasure hole was screaming for some immediate attention.
Poor Danny was in a total panic.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. Mommy will clean it all up,” I assured him.

I got him to lean back and just relax. With a hand towel, I soaked up the creamy goo. “I’m going to give your penis a couple of little squeezes to get the last little bits out, okay?”

He nodded his head in utter embarrassment.

“You know, I once had an orgasm in gym class.”

This sort of took his mind off the situation. I squeezed that last few drops of cum out of his cock as I talked.

“I was climbing up this rope and my crotch was rubbing on it and before I knew it, I started to get excited.”

His penis stopped shrinking.

“I didn’t know what to do. I was at the top of this rope and I had to get down but the more I slide on it, the closer I was to climaxing. I decided to get down as quickly as possible. Big mistake. By the time I hit the ground, I had this thundering sensation shooting up from between my legs from my vagina. I screamed.”

“Wow.”

“Precisely. I pretended that I’d burned my hands on the rope but I don’t know how many people I actually fooled.”

He let out a little laugh and didn’t seem to notice that his rod was hard in my hand again. When I dried off his lower half, I got down on my knees and put my face as close to his doowanger as I could without getting it stuck up my nose. Danny was fully erect again, but he didn’t seem nearly as concerned about it.

“So, pajamas or are you happy the way you are?”

“I guess this is fine,” he mumbled.

“Wise choice. It’s a hot night. I know I won’t be wearing anything.”

I almost slapped his young, pink ass as he left the room, but luckily I caught myself in time. That would have been a HUGE giveaway.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. What had I done? I’d jerked off my own son! I’d flirted with him when he was naked! I’d talked about me having orgasms and my vagina and wearing nothing to bed. Where was this all going? Well, I knew where it was all going but I couldn’t allow myself to admit it. I may not have had the strictest moral upbringing but incest was definitely off the table. I was confused. I was lonely. I was so upset I wasn’t even going to masturbate (talk about being completely distraught!) and then there was a knock at the door. It was actually more of a kick because he couldn’t use his hands.

I looked up to see Danny’s naked shadow standing there.

“Is everything okay, baby?”

Danny entered and sat down on the side of the bed. “I can’t sleep. Not after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it was me rubbing on that thing. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so thorough.”

He didn’t respond.

“Listen, I know boys your age touch themselves…”

“Mom!”

He pulled away but I grabbed his arm and yanked him back onto the bed. I also let the top sheet slide off my breasts. This caught his attention. I pretended not to notice it happened.

“Girls your age touch themselves too. Heck – if you want to know the truth, I still touch myself. Practically every night.”

Boner!

“All I want to say is, I know you can’t do that sort of thing until the bandages come off. So, if you needed me to…”

“Mom!”

“Hey, it would be a hell of a lot more pleasurable than wiping your ass.”

Daniel paused in his embarrassed indignation. He almost giggled.

“Remember how uncomfortable it was for both of us, the first time you had to pee? But now, it’s fine, right?”

Danny nodded his head but not enthusiastically.

What was I doing? I was laying out the case to give my son another handjob!

“Well, we’ve sort of already been through the awkward one, right? The next one will be easier.”

I could tell he wanted to but sensibly couldn’t bring him to say so. I unsensibly decided to take the plunge. “Then it’s settled!”

Bouncing out of bed, I showed him the whole megillah. I pretended not to notice the eyes popping out of his head as I turned for the bathroom. “Just make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”

Armed with a jar of hand cream, I ambled back into the room, making sure that he got a good look at every inch of me. The son of a bitch (and I should know, I’m his mother) was laid out on the mattress, just waiting to be pleasured. I crawled into bed next to him, my nipple pressing against his chest, as I put my face an inch from his. “Now, anytime you want me to do this again, I don’t want you to hesitate. Just ask Mommy, and she’ll be happy to take care of you, is that understood?”

He nodded his head silently. I gave him a little peck on the lips. “No just relax and enjoy this.”

I squeezed his penis in my hand and gave it one slow tug. Quickly, the hand cream was warmed and applied. I spread it on incredibly lightly. Mostly, because I didn’t want him coming right away and spoiling all my fun. I gave it about a minute of light massage and then…

“Would you like me to lick your nuts as I stroke your shaft?” I inquired like I was taking his breakfast order at a diner.

No guy would say no to that offer and my son was no exception. I burrowed my face into his meaty nards and began to pump his pud. By the time he was nearing “the big blow” I had my tongue up his ass and my upper lip stimulating his scrotum. Having a pair of young hairy balls on the bridge of my nose was pure heaven. Suddenly, his legs slammed against the sides of my head, her whole body started to shake and he shot a huge load of mung all the way up to his chin.

I quickly scampered back up his torso. I didn’t want him getting all shy again. Pressing my tits against his arm, I licked the little drop of jizz off his cheek. He looked deep into my eyes.

“You know what I’d like to do?” I asked in the sexiest voice I could muster.

“No,” he whispered back.

“I’d like to lick a big pool of your cum off your lips.”

Without waiting for a response, I scooped up a big blob of nut sauce off his stomach, spread it across his mouth and then deep soul kissed him. Our tongues swirling around inside him with his sticky emanation oozing back and forth between our taste buds was intoxicating. I grabbed his hand to put on my tit, but then I realized he didn’t have one. My bad.

“Use my leg as a rope,” he suggested between sessions of me basting his tonsils with my saliva. The puddle between my legs instantly turned into a lake. I clamped myself onto his upper thigh and went giddy up! I could feel my inner lips spread out like warm, melted butter on a corn cob as I sloshed up and down on his quadriceps. Little mini-cums were exploding between my legs as I ground away, cupping his well-sucked balls in my hand. My vulva swelled to the size of dinner plates as I writhed up and down his body. Still, in a major liplock, I moaned into his mouth as that glorious tension took hold in my vaginal canal. It squeezed tighter and tighter and tighter and YOWSA!!!!! I came like someone had set off a Cherry Bomb in my twat. An enormous spasm rocketed up my abdomen and practically set my eyebrows on fire. The clit convulsions lasted for a good minute. I’d never had an O this big in my life. It felt like someone had welded my teeth together. I could feel my fuck hole and my anus was undulating in tandem as the mind-blowing orgasmic shockwaves tore through me. When things finally calmed down and I was able to breathe again, I just lay in his arms and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until the morning that the full weight of what I’d done began to sink in. I’d rubbed myself off on my son’s leg! As he lay there, I couldn’t get over how young he looked. Hell, he was young. And how related to me he was. On the bright side, I had forgiven him for being such a jerk to me (It seemed only reasonable, under the circumstances.).

What to do! What to say, when Danny woke up! “Sorry I made you taste your own semen?” Admittedly, not the usual mother/son conversation over breakfast.

This couldn’t go on. It had to stop. But I’d just offered to jerk him off anytime he wanted! Fuck! When he finally opened his eyes, I told him how sorry I was. That we had to stop. It wasn’t healthy. He kind of agreed and then said he had to go to the bathroom.

So there I am, ten seconds after my noble speech, on my hands and knees with his penis in my hand. And it started to grow the second I wrapped my fingers around it and Danny was no longer looking off into space. He was looking directly down at me and my palm full of his joint. It was so hard, I had to push on it to point it down.

When he’d finished his business, I gave it a very quick shake and wiped the end off with my finger. That’s when I felt his mummified hand on the back of my head, pushing me towards his crotch. I thought about resisting. I thought about saying no. Then, I opened my lips and sucked his cock like a frenzied glory-hole whore in front of the toilet. I’d tasted his cum the night before but this time I had that big gushing load bouncing off the roof of my mouth and landing on my tongue.

That pretty well opened the floodgates. To my credit, I did make him till almost that afternoon to fuck me. The first time he pushed his penis into my gaping pussy hole, I looked up at him and said, “Welcome back inside. What took you so long?”

From then on…Danny fucked the life out of me. When we weren’t doing missionary or Cowboy, he bent me over every piece of furniture in the house. The worst was when I let him fuck me at my mother’s place. And the time I sucked him off in a change room at K-Mart. And the time my best friend caught us having anal sex in her pool house. (She’s no longer my best friend, but at least she didn’t turn us into the police!)

Danny says wants to bring his two best buds over to fuck me (you know, the idiots from the camping trip). I haven’t said yes to that, yet. I mean, the main part about being a responsible mom’s is knowing where to draw the line…right? THE END

Copyright 2017 Lauren McAllister

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