A Massage for Mom's Headache

This story is set in a small town in the UK and written in UK English.

All people depicted in this story are fictitious and over the age of 18.

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I could hear my parents again -- no, not doing that - arguing I meant.

As long as I can remember, my mom and dad have argued at home, but never in public. It is never violent, and it seems to have turned into a habit more than anything. A long time ago, I stopped listening to what it was about each time, and it became just a background noise. Why they do it I don't know.

My mom Kate, is my dad's second wife, and he is quite a bit older than her. She had me quite soon after they got married, so I am guessing that she is about 37, whereas he is more like in his late forties. They seem to get on fine, despite the arguing, but I would have thought it would be wearing to be disagreeing about everything.

She likes exercising, either at the local swimming pool, playing tennis, or running, and she seem to keep herself in good health that way. Dad prefers golf, and often goes off to play with his colleagues from work. He has asked me to go with him a few times, but it doesn't really hold much interest for me.

I have a good homelife, and being an only child, haven't really wanted for anything, as my dad has a good job, although he often works long hours.

My mom is a good cook, keeps the house tidy, provides clean clothes and a myriad of other things moms do, that we often take for granted. She dresses like most women of her age I guess, nothing too flashy, but always smart. Apart from that I can't say I observed her much, she was just my 'Mom'.

That opinion changed suddenly one day.

On my 18th birthday, that happened to fall on a weekend in the summer, Mom and Dad decided to give me a barbecue party in the evening. I invited some of my friends, and a few relatives turned up too. There was lots to eat, and now that I was legally allowed to drink, (not that it had stopped me before,) there were various beers and other drinks available.

The evening was in full swing and I was just walking across the lawn to go and chat to some relatives, when I saw two of my friends, their backs towards me, deep in conversation, their attention focussed towards the house. I overheard part of what they were saying and slowed down to catch more.

"His mom's a looker, isn't she?" Micky said.

"Yea, you're not wrong there, look at how that dress hugs her tight bottom." Chris replied, taking a swig of his beer, "and those tits don't sag do they. They're not as big as I like, but I wouldn't mind getting my hands on those," he chortled.

"I don't know what she sees in her old man, I bet I could satisfy her better," Micky replied, laughing quietly.

"I'd have a go too if she wasn't Pete's mom, she is definitely fit in more ways than one," he added.

"Oh, dream on," Mike retorted, "let's go and get some food before it all goes."

They started to saunter off towards the house, and I was just about to go and remonstrate with them, friends or not, for talking so disrespectfully about my mom like that, when I saw what they had been staring at.

I had an epiphany moment.

My mom was coming from the house carrying a plate of meat for the barbecue. Her tight red dress that ended mid-thigh, was rising and falling, exposing more and less thigh, as she carefully negotiated some steps. I could see that the back of her dress had criss-crossed thin straps, that then went over her shoulders, to hold the dress up, but her back was bare underneath that. It was low cut and straight across at the front, with just a hint of the top of her breasts and the valley in-between showing. She had matching shoes with a bit of a heel that gave her calves a great shape. I had never thought of my mom in this way before, but now I could see what they had meant, although that didn't really excuse how they had been talking.

No one was taking any notice of me as I continued to watch my mom. She walked more quickly back to the house now that she had been relieved of the plate. Her dark hair, just brushing her shoulders, swished back and forth and shone when it caught the light of the sun that was low in the sky now. As she climbed back up the few steps towards the kitchen door, her dress again slid way up each of her thighs, exposing her long toned legs, the dress tightly hugging the curves of her bottom.

I was a bit embarrassed that I was feeling my cock stir at the sight of her; I hadn't even thought about my mom in that way ever, and now I had seen her as a very sexy woman and not just a mom. I was a bit confused, but the sight had stirred my hormones and got me excited, so I decided to take a closer look at her around the house in the next few days.

I looked around to check no one was looking at me and wonder what I was staring at, but it was all clear, as most people were making their way to get some food, the aroma of which dragged me there too.

During the following days, I took much more notice of what my mom was wearing and tried surreptitiously to get any glimpse I could of more of her body. I increased the frequency and duration of our normal hugs, relishing the feel of her firm breasts squashed against me and wondering what they might look like.

One day, I thought I had gone too far. She was wearing her short, white, tennis skirt, that contrasted with, and showed, lots of tanned leg. She also had on a tight, white, tennis top, that clung to her breasts, the whole outfit making her look much younger.

"Pete," she said, after a slightly prolonged hug, "it's nice to be hugged now and then, but I don't think you know your own strength, you keep squashing me."

"Oh, sorry Mom, I errr, just wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you do for me, and I don't think I have shown it in the past." I said, making it up on the spot, and blushing a little at almost being found out.

"Well, that's nice of you to say so, you seem to be more mature since your birthday, it's good to see. Come here and give me another hug, but not so hard." she said, smiling and holding her arms open.

I moved into her arms and closed mine around her without squeezing too hard, rubbing my hands up and down her back. I could feel her firm breasts pushed against me, and her taut stomach touching mine. I felt my cock stirring, not just at the feeling, but at the thought of how close my body was to hers. I had to cut the hug short as I was sure my cock would rise to a full erection that she would easily feel, and that might take some explaining away.

"I'll see you later," she said, as I released her and she bent over to pick up her sports bag, inadvertently giving me a glimpse of her white tennis panties, then leaving the house.

I immediately went up to my room to fill a tissue, thoughts of her body and how it had touched mine, swirling round in my brain.

For the next few days, I heeded her warning and didn't push the hugging too much, although once, just before bedtime, I gave her a 'goodnight hug' when she was wearing only her short, thin, bathrobe and nightdress, and I am sure I felt her nipples against my chest through the layers, although maybe it was just my youthful lust deceiving me. I did however watch more closely and catch glimpses of more leg, and occasionally panties, if she didn't sit too carefully. All of this being fodder for my night time wanking sessions.

About two weeks later, on a Saturday, I surfaced at around 10 am and went down to get some breakfast in my usual baggy sleep-shorts and T shirt. I had heard them arguing again earlier, and didn't think anything of it, but found Mom by herself sitting at the kitchen table, still in her bathrobe. She had her elbows on the table supporting her head, and was massaging her temples with her fingers.

"Mom, are you ok?" I asked, as this was unusual.

"Yes, don't worry."

"Is Dad about?" I said, popping some bread into the toaster and pouring some coffee.

"No, he should be, but he's gone to play golf again, we were going to do something together today, but he seems to prefer golf ," she said, a bit peeved.

"Oh, emmm, well, is there anything I can do?" I offered.

"Not unless you can get rid of this headache," she replied, rubbing her fingers up and down the back of her neck.

"Can I get you some pain killers then?"

"Already taken a couple, just waiting for them to kick in."

I was quiet for a moment.

"Would you like me to massage your neck for a while, it might help," I ventured.

"Oh no, I don't want to bother you with it, I am sure you have things planned."

"No, really," I said, moving behind her, "let me see if it helps."

"You really don't mind?"

"Of course not," I said, placing my hands on her shoulders.

"Do you know what to do?"

"Well I'm not an expert, but how hard can it be."

"Ok," she said, "it's worth a try."

"Just sit up straight, close your eyes and let me do the work," I said.

I started by moving my fingers gently up into her hair, massaging her scalp, and wow, even I could feel how tight the skin was there. I used both hands, rotating my fingers and gently moving her scalp around.

After few minutes, she seemed to relax a little, " Hmmm, you're not bad at this, that feels really good," she said, quietly.

"Don't talk, just relax and think nice thoughts," I instructed her.

As my fingers moved around through her hair, the movement sent occasional smells of fresh coconut shampoo wafting around. It was a nice clean smell, that coming from a woman's hair, in itself, was slightly sensuous.

I moved down towards her neck, noticing for the first time that it was long and slender, sloping gently down to her shoulders as if it had been carefully crafted. I ran my fingers down each side then back up to her temples, rotating them all the time.

"Mmmm," she sighed.

I knew then that what I was doing was on the right path, so I continued with that for a while.

As I stood there behind her, putting a little more pressure from my fingers onto her neck, I looked down over her shoulder, and I suddenly realised that her bathrobe had bunched a little at the front. I could see down to where the tops of her breasts, partially covered by the top of her lacy nightdress, were just visible in the shadows. My cock instantly started to stir, but I wasn't too worried, as I was behind her, and she wouldn't be able to see. Touching her skin so intimately was having as much of an exciting effect on me, as it was having a relaxing one on her.

The trouble is that that stirring also awoke a little voice in my head that said, 'why don't you massage her shoulders, she is enjoying it, she won't mind, you might be able to see more'.

I didn't think that was too bad an idea, after all it would just be shoulders, nothing more.

Gingerly, I extended my massaging fingers down and under her bathrobe across her shoulders, teasing the tight muscles either side of her neck. She still sat there with her eyes apparently closed and didn't react in any way.

My cock got harder and the voice spoke again, 'go on, you can go further, slip it off her shoulders so you can do it properly, she'll understand'.

With some trepidation, I eased one side of her bathrobe off her shoulder and halfway down the top of her arm.

That got a reaction

"Why have you done that?"

"I just thought that your shoulders feel so tight, and I can't get at them with it in the way, I don't have to do that if you don't want," I said, giving her the option.

"Oh I see, hmmm, well you are doing a great job and I am feeling much more relaxed," she said, "so I'll slip both of them down just a bit," she added, loosening her belt and shuffling her shoulders, until both were bare apart from the thin straps of her nightdress.

"Is it ok," I mumbled, "if I err, just push these there too?" I asked, carefully sliding both thin straps to where her bathrobe was off her shoulders.

"It feels like you have anyway," she said, light-heartedly, "but no more."

As I started on her shoulders and across the small piece of exposed back, I again looked down her front. Now I could clearly see the valley between her breasts and the slight swell as they separated. The lacy top of her nightdress still covered most of them, but straining to see in the dim light down there, I fancied there was a hint of something darker, lower down, that I could discern through the semi-transparent lace. I wondered if it was part of her nipple or the area surrounding it.

"Everything ok?" she asked, and I realised that I was so intent on looking, that I had stopped massaging for a moment.

"Yes, yes," I stuttered, " I was just, just thinking how smooth your skin is," I bluffed.

"For my age you mean?" she said, as a faint blush crept up her neck, and I felt she was smiling.

"Nooo, of course not," I emphasised, and resumed moving my hands across her shoulders, trying to find any tight muscles.

It was a new experience to be touching my mom's skin so intimately. I know, it was only her shoulders, but it felt like a part of her body I shouldn't be touching, and my cock thought the same, pressing hard against the chair back through my sleep shorts, I found I could get a little friction against it if I moved surreptitiously back and forth a little.

The voice was back, 'go on then, move your hands further down, she is enjoying it, she won't mind, but if she does, she will tell you to stop...go on.. try it'.

I wasn't sure if I should, it might cause all sorts of problems, but I was excited and the voice was persuasive. I want to see if she would let me touch more.

After a few more moments had past, I plucked up the courage to slide my hand over her shoulder and massage her upper chest, just below her collar bone, moving my fingers amongst the small muscles there.

"Err, I don't think my headache is there," she said, in a slightly jokey way.

"Well," I said, with a dry mouth, clearing my throat, "I think I read somewhere or saw some bit of a video that said the neck muscles extend around here and it helps to release the tension."

"I don't know," she said, "but it sounds like it might be true, it certainly feels like it is all connected."

She said no more, so I continued to move my hands across and around, making sure I didn't go too far down, but relishing the feel of her skin under my fingers. I was getting enough friction against my cock from the chair back to make it feel really good, and was letting my imagination take me to where I might be actually rubbing her breasts and nipples.

Was I actually hearing a voice or was it just my thoughts, 'why not do it then, go further down, you know you want to, she is loving it, she likes it...go on, see what happens'.

Should I , I argued with myself, I was so turned on, it made sense that she was letting me go this far, so maybe...

Trembling slightly, I moved my hands further down, light as a feather, brushing the lacy top of her nightdress and when I got no reaction, I let my finger just slip under it an inch.

Now I could feel where the small muscles of her upper chest changed to the softer beginnings of her breast. My fingers brushed over the slight dip where the valley between them started. I thought that at any moment she would stop me, but all I could hear was her slightly faster breathing, her head lying back against me over the back of the chair.

As I moved my hands to the side, I could feel the start of the swell of her warm breasts, and knew I could only be about a fingers length from the area where her nipples must be. I looked harder down there, and was sure that now there were bumps pressing outwards against the thin material of her nightgown. I realised that they must be her nipples, and that they were now erect.

Oh God, I was almost touching her breasts, her nipples had become erect, and she was not stopping me.

Slowly, I inched my way down, with the pretence of the massage keeping us both outside of any deliberate sexual touching.

My finger had just touched a slight bumpy bit of skin, different to the rest, when she jumped.

"What's that noise?" she said, startled.

I heard the sound of tyres on gravel, and looking up and out of the kitchen window that faced the driveway, I saw my dad's car pulling onto the drive.

Damn, damn, damn, I thought, quickly pulling my hands from my mom's nightdress.

"He must have changed his mind," my mom said, in what sounded like a slightly annoyed voice, "I expect your toast is cold now, but you had better take to your room. Thank you for that massage, my headache is so much better, I didn't know you were that good, I'll have to call on you again when I get another one," she added, straight-faced.

"Sure," I said, "anytime," turning to hide my erection, as I picked up my plate and cold coffee to leave the room, "glad I could be of some use."

She turned and looked me in the eye, giving me a slightly strange look.

I went straight up to my room, and just before closing the door, heard the outside door downstairs close and some sort of conversation going on in the kitchen.

Ignoring my cold breakfast, I started to relieve my aching cock. The thoughts of how close I had come to touching my mom's nipples fresh in my head. Damn, I was so near to them and I wondered if she would have let me, but in my fantasy, she did of course, and it wasn't long before long ropes of fresh cum were spewing into the tissue I had ready.

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The next few days were just like any other. Mom never said or hinted at anything to do with that morning and I hugged her as before without any change in her attitude. It seemed as though it was a one off that she either didn't think significant, or didn't want to think about. I didn't know which, so I didn't mention it either.

The following Saturday, I was enjoying a longer stay in bed than during the week, when unusually there was a knock on my bedroom door.

"Are you decent?" I heard my mom say, from behind the door.

"Umm, yea, you can come in."

There was a slight delay, then my mom came into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"I'm sorry to disturb your lie-in," she began, "but I have a bad headache again, and your dad has had to go into work today, so I can't ask him."

"Errr, ask him what?" I said a bit sleepily, rubbing my eyes awake.

"If he would massage my neck a bit to help me get rid of it."

"Oh, yes, I see," I said, understanding dawning now.

"I don't like taking too many pain killers, so I asked at the Chemist's shop if there was an alternative, and they recommended one of those essential oils, lavender they said," she paused. "They said that the smell, as well as gently massaging it into the affected area was often very beneficial, so I bought some to try."

"Hmm, ok, that sounds a good idea." I said, still wondering why she was telling me.

"Yes, well, I have tried massaging it myself, but it is not easy, so, I was wondering, as you did such a good job last time, if you wouldn't mind helping me again," she finished, blushing slightly.

Now that I was more awake, I noticed as she was talking, that she had a bottle of something in her hand. She had her short bathrobe pulled tightly round her, covering down to just above her knees, and with just a small amount of her nightdress showing at the bottom and in the 'V' near her neck.

"You have to just add a few drops to a massage oil," she continued quickly, "which I have done." She held up the small bottle. "But it will be a bit oily."

"You want to do it now? I asked, thoughts already starting to form in my head about touching her again.

"If you really don't mind," she replied, "here is as good as anywhere I think."

I didn't want to appear too eager, but I also didn't want to pass this opportunity by. "Yes, I am glad to help, but I only have my sleep-shorts and T shirt on."