Chapter Four
Blow Job for a Special Son
When Mrs Jackson had finally composed herself, she straightened her clothing and got unsteadily to her feet on legs that didn't seem to belong to her. Her orgasm had left her physically and emotionally drained. She went back into Jason's room and found him dozing. He looked peaceful, almost serene. It was as if all the strain, all the tension of the past few weeks had been lifted from him. She watched him breathing, the light rattle of a gentle snore already in accompaniment. His ample chest rose and fell slowly with his steady, even breaths. Her eyes swivelled to his crotch. No sign of an erection now. She wondered when he would need relieving again with a mixed sense of apprehension and excited anticipation. Having done it once, surely the second time would be easier now that the initial fears of guilt and embarrassment had been negotiated. The only obstacle that seemed to remain now was the fear of enjoying it - the act of taking her son in hand - so much that she became hooked on it. But she couldn't deny that she was kind of looking forward to her next call to arms, even though it scared her a little. It would surely be better than before, without the awkward tension that existed the first time between mother and son. Perhaps the next time, or if things continued to progress well, she could even spice things up a little?
With the prospect of more illicit fun on the horizon, there was also a downside that occurred to her. She began to view the eventual removal of Jason's arm-casts with a sense of trepidation. Once her son was restored to full health, she would no longer be needed for all the things that he was at the moment incapable of performing for himself -- the washing, the dressing, the feeding, the... And while it was the least she could do in performing these duties for him, she was being held prisoner as much as her son by his incapacitation. But having tasted the pleasures and sins of intimacy with her own flesh and blood, there remained one duty she would now be loath to relinquish.
What if the next visit to outpatients resulted in the casts being removed? Normal service would then be resumed. There would no longer be a legitimate reason for continuing intimate relations with her son. She felt closer to him now than ever before and there was an extra bond developing that had little to do with maternal love. Mother and son had become intrinsically linked by an act of mercy, yet one that was nonetheless sexual in its application. Inducing one's own son to orgasm had an excitement and appeal about it that could not be obtained or equalled by normal sexual relations - that is, those outside of the family blood circle - and this was something that Mrs Jackson had become, perverse as it seemed, well aware of.
It was Thursday. The next visit to outpatients was the coming Tuesday and the possibility of good news for Jason - if not his mother. Since his motorcycle accident, Carol had arranged to work only afternoons until her son could see to himself. In this way she was able to attend to Jason's morning needs and he would then be okay until she returned at around half-past-five. She had modified certain items of clothing for him, two or three pairs of jeans that had the front and back cut away to facilitate his toilet needs, and while these looked comically obscene, it was a necessity that couldn't be ignored. Of course, if it came to bottom-wiping, it was still a problem. Fortunately, he wasn't often caught short in the afternoon. He was regular as clockwork, and then at the times his mother was on hand to see to him - namely mornings.
She felt reluctant to wake him from such a relaxed sleep, but it was necessary to get him up, washed and moving about. She knew he needed some sort of exercise and to take an interest in the things around him. She didn't want him to die of boredom sitting on the sofa all day.
Once Mrs Jackson had seen to her son's needs and got him comfortable on the sofa, she kissed him on the forehead, ruffled his hair and left for work.
In the days that followed, Carol Jackson masturbated her son for a second time on the Saturday morning, following his first pee of the day. It wasn't planned -- it just happened that way. For only the second time that week, Carol had found Jason in a state of repose. The release of semen two days previously had obviously gone some way to addressing and relieving the constant hard-ons Jason had been suffering the last few weeks. He had finished peeing, but instead of his mother tidying him up straight away, she held onto him, pulling on his limp dick gently until she felt it twitching, coming alive like a fledgling sparrow finding its wings for the first time.
Jason had been quite content to allow this to happen, and without a word between them she brought him to a full erection before tossing him off vigorously to another superb climax. This resulted in Jason shooting his cum all over the low-level cistern and upturned toilet seat, the last watery dregs of which settled around her fingers. She could not resist putting them to her mouth and licking them clean of the warm, sticky, slightly soapy-tasting goo. It was not at all unpleasant.
So agreeable was this discovery that she planned to capture all of Jason's sperm in a condom the very next time she gave him a wank and then when she was alone, empty the thing into her mouth and guzzle it all to see what it was like to swallow a decent whack of cum. This happened on Sunday evening while they were watching Midsomer Murders on the TV, seated together on the sofa. His mother had already changed into her nightclothes.
To retain a degree of modesty and decency when in the presence of his mother, Jason would often sit with a tee-shirt or something draped over his private parts. But the sudden tenting of the men's handkerchief that this time protected his modesty caught Mrs Jackson's eye and without making an issue of it she reached over and began fondling her son through the cotton material.
"Are you okay?" she said.
"Will you do it for me, Mum? "If you like. Are you up for it then?"
"Mum, I'm fucking aching for it. Can't you tell?"
"All right, I'll do it here. But I'm going to use a condom on you this time."
"Why? I thought you liked seeing the spunk fly?"
"I do... but I don't want a mess on the furniture, it's not even paid for yet."
She fetched her handbag, sat back down and rummaged around inside. She brought out a packet of three, took one out and split the foil with her teeth. She removed it from the foil, squeezed the air out of the teat, rolled it down over her son's swollen cock and smoothed out the creases. This was a new sensation. Carol loved the slick, tight feeling of the condom's gossamer skin around Jason's dick. And for him, his mother's hand felt wonderfully warm and sensual wrapped around the slick rubber sheath. There seemed something more risqué, perhaps even a little obscene about the introduction of a condom to their sex games. And this heightened the sexual tension and anticipation between them.
She rubbed moisturiser into her hands and began playing with him.
"How does it feel, lover boy?"
"Great... absolutely fucking gorgeous, mother."
"Brings a new feel to it, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, and I thought it would spoil the fun. Like it would be like having a bath with my boots on."
"But I can tell you love it, don't you? Now your mummy can watch all your lovely creamy cum collect in the end. What a thrill for her. Tell me, darling... if I wasn't your mum, would you find me attractive? I mean, if you'd never seen me before would you fancy me?"
"How can I answer that?"
