"He said what?!!"
Jo spluttered over her coffee in shock. We met here every week, determined to keep in touch. We'd known each other since our university days ended 18 years ago when I was pregnant with Mikey. I laughed and told her the details. We had moved to a new home, complete with en-suite bathrooms. Not liking the decor downstairs, we redecorated and my husband, Tony, had to rearrange the furniture. Mikey had helped in moving the piano but sprained his wrist. The swelling had gone down, but it was still painful.
I took him a coffee this morning before I left to meet Jo. I asked him how his wrist was today.
"It's still a little painful, thanks."
"Well, I'm sure it will be okay when you go back to school after the break" I said, trying to cheer him up. Then it came.
"Mom…it's been a week since I…uh…was able to…okay, I have to say it…a week since I was able to masturbate…and it's so frustrating."
We had always been open and honest with Mikey, but I was still surprised when he told me. I looked at him, not knowing what to say.
"It's okay Mom, forget I said anything. It's not important."
I knew it must have been difficult for him to mention. I smiled and told him it was okay.
"I understand, Honey…I know it must be hard for you."
We both realised my faux pas at the same time and laughed. The tension broken, it made it easier for him to continue.
"I can barely hold myself without pain in my wrist."
"Have you tried your left hand?" I asked, wondering if I was being helpful.
"It's barely better than useless…I can't write with it…I thought I might be able to…but I can't get…how can I say…I can't get the timing right."
"I see…" I began, not knowing how to continue.
"So, Mom…I was wondering if…I mean...would it be okay…"
He didn't finish his sentence. I tried to guess what he wanted. Perhaps he wanted Zoë, his girlfriend, to come over and give him a hand so to speak!! But then I remembered things were not too good between them right now. He picked up where he left off. "Would you do it for me, Mom…please; would you help me?"
I felt for him, I really did. But I couldn't say "Yes." I didn't say "No," either.
Jo looked at me, not knowing whether I was joking.
"Let me get this straight…you told him ‘maybe'?"
"Not exactly…I'm not sure really…it was kind of unfinished."
"I could help," offered Jo with a wink. "You probably don't realise, but Mikey is very handsome!!"
I wasn't sure if she was serious, but I didn't respond to her offer. I recalled how forward Jo had been in our Uni days; a bit of a man-eater if truth be told. However, she was right. I hadn't really thought about it before, but now, driving home, I began to think of my son in a different way. There was no doubt about it; Mikey is handsome. I knew he'd had plenty of girlfriends and I also knew he was a virgin. Well, whenever he talked about them, he said they had not gone all the way and I had no reason to disbelieve him. In fact, this was the problem with Zoë…she wanted them to do it. He hadn't felt totally committed to her, as a week into their relationship, she admitted to fucking another guy after he and Zoë had already been on a couple of dates together.
The more I thought about him as I drove on, the more I began to think he was sexy too. All those girls saw something and I tried to see him through their eyes. I could see it too. It made me think of Tony when we were younger. I really had the hots for him…I still do. But we were careless and I got pregnant too soon. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a single regret…but the fact is it wasn't planned. I was glad Mikey was being careful. But now I was thinking if I could help him. Could I really masturbate him? Actually manipulate his cock for him so he came!
When he was 8, Mikey broke his arm. I often had to help him undo his fly and help him go to the bathroom. That involved handling his penis, didn't it? So what's the difference? I saw one immediately; back then it was his penis. Now I was thinking in terms of his cock! My son wanted me to handle his cock. To actually make him ejaculate! No…I was exaggerating; He didn't want me to do it…he needed me to do it. He was suffering and I, as his mother, was in a position to help him. After all, it wasn't as if he was asking to have sex with me was it?
Huh? How on earth did I get to that?!
I hung the keys on the hook in the kitchen and heard music coming from his bedroom. Mikey was still not up, it seemed. What had he been doing up there, sleeping? Torturing himself by playing with his cock? That word again. Had he been able to come? I felt a tinge of disappointment. He needed my help and I was too late to give it. Was I really disappointed because I hadn't helped? Why was I even thinking this when I didn't even know if he had? But somewhere on the drive home, I had made my decision.
"Hi, Mikey," I began, walking through the open door to his room.
"Christ! Mom…don't you knock?"
"Sorry, honey…but your door was open and…"
My sentence stayed unfinished as I took in the scene before me. Mikey was propped up in bed reading a magazine. His bedding was down beyond his waist; further than he thought I guess because there was his cock lying across his abdomen. My eyes lingered there, noticing the way it curved from the base to its tip.
Mikey saw me looking and put aside his magazine. In doing so, he then realised he was exposing himself to me. His cock seemed to roll over as he reached to pull up a sheet. I was quite disappointed when I lost sight of it, but it allowed me to regain my composure and I moved towards his bed. I saw the mag he'd been reading. It was a stroke magazine; I never saw the name…just the picture of the semi naked girl on the cover. He had made no attempt to hide it; an example of the open relationship we had. But that didn't mean he was going to flaunt his erection in front of his mother. Even if he had asked me to masturbate it for him. Openness…even nakedness does not mean such displays are acceptable.
The ease with which Mikey felt at the situation was shown as he spoke.
"I tried again, mom, I really tried. My hand aches so much, now, it hurts to hold that magazine," he stated, before adding, "and that made it worse…looking at those pictures, because I couldn't do anything about it."
"It's okay, Mikey," I told him. "That's what I came to talk to you about. I think I can help you."
With that, I began pulling at the sheet that covered his cock. I could tell he was still erect, though not, by now, fully. But the sheet highlighted it nicely until I'd slid it right down, dragging his cock with it until it sprang back into place.
"You mean…you're going to help me come?"
The relief was plain to hear, let alone the way the frustration left his body.
I knelt at the side of his bed and reached a hand across his thigh. I noticed how smooth his skin was as I looked up towards his face. Making a light contact with his shaft, his entire body jolted. I reached again for his cock and this time he allowed my fingers to feel their way around it, so I could hold it gently. I could feel him growing in my hand as I wondered how I should do it. Did it matter how I did it? Maybe all he wanted was to come. So I asked. "Okay, Mikey…you are fully hard now…" It didn't sound very sexy. It wasn't meant to be; he is my son after all. As I began stroking him I wanted to give him some control back and I asked him how it was and if he wanted me to do it differently. He could barely get the words out. "It's great, mom…..really great. I love it I...I…aaaahhhh…"
And with that, he started cumming. His essence just pumping out and down over his cock and onto my hand as I held him. It seemed never ending; more and more liquid flowing from him, like a damn had burst.