A Mothers Lesson 1

When I turned 18, I felt like I was king of the world. I was the man of the house (Dad had long since left), my older sister was away at college, and Mom usually worked late. It was great to just walk around the house and feel like it was mine. That was, of course, until I went too far.

It's normal for any high school senior to be curious about the in's and out's of girls, and I was no exception. It was a Tuesday when I got home from school determined to learn more about Mom. At 3:20, I knew that it would be hours until she got home, so I could take my time. I went straight upstairs and opened her bedroom door. It was still and silent, and I took a breath as I walked through the door. I was aware of every creak in the floor as I walked to her dresser--I knew which drawer I wanted. I opened the second one from the top and smiled. There were her panties and bras. I felt excited in a way that I never had when I was with my girlfriend Marie, not even when Marie used those wonderful lips on me. I ran my fingers over the contents of the drawer and felt lightheaded. I randomly pulled one out, and I was surprised to see it was a string bikini, and made of satin. Apparently, there were things I didn't know about mom.

"Richard!" was the shout that I heard behind me. I turned around, panties still in hand, to see my mother, dressed in a floral print sundress--obviously, she hadn't gone to work today. And it looked like she had just found out something about me.

"Richard, what are you doing?"

Of course, I had no response. What does a boy say when his mother finds him holding her panties?

She looked at me, clearly angry. "Well? Answer your mother. What in the hell are you doing?"

I stumbled, saying, "I... uh...."

"Fine," she responded angrily. "I'll handle this the way I used to." My eyes grew wide... certainly she didn't mean... "Richard, corner!" she said angrily, pointing to the corner of her room.

I started to walk there, stunned. I knew it was very wrong that I was in her underwear drawer, but she hadn't done this for years.

"You know what I mean," she said angrily as she interrupted my thoughts. "In the corner naked, young man."

I finally was able to say something. I turned to my mother, still pretty at 45, with long brown hair and a busty, curvy body that she complained was too fat, but I thought was wonderful. "Mom, I'm sorry."

She smiled sadly, just as she used to whenever she felt she had to punish me or my sister in this way. "I know, honey. Now do as I say."

I turned my back to her and walked to the corner, unable to believe that this was happening. I pulled off my t-shirt, immediately feeling self conscious. Was she really going to have me go through with this? My hands shook as I undid my belt buckle and zipper, then my jeans suddenly fell to the floor. I paused as I stood there in my underwear, hoping that she would call off the bluff.

She didn't. Instead, she simply cleared her throat, and I knew I had to continue. I hooked my fingers onto the waist of my boxer shorts, then quickly pushed them down. I stood up again as soon as possible, but I still was red with embarrassment, knowing that she must have seen my balls or penis as I bent over.

Mom kept me standing there for a few minutes, silently watching me, making me feel embarrassed and ashamed. The worst part was that, even though I was wishing it wasn't happening, I had an erection. I prayed for it to go away, I analyzed the wallpaper in hopes that it would disappear, and I thought of every boring thing I could. But it didn't help; it was simply one of those times where it wouldn't go away, and I felt like a teen again.

The minutes passed, then I heard her pull a chair out, and I knew she was putting it next to the bed. I heard her sit, then say in a commanding voice, "Come here, Richard."

I remembered the rules from years ago: hands at my sides, look Mom in the face. I couldn't believe this was happening. I turned, wondering how she would react at my naked body and very obvious erection. I looked at her, and she simply had the same stern look she always had when a punishment was necessary.

As I walked to her, she said, "Since you're bigger now," (my heart skipped a beat--was she talking about my penis? No, she meant I was taller) "I want you to lay across my lap with your face on the bed. Okay?"

I nodded and stood at her side, about to lie down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her glance at my penis, then slightly tug up her skirt. I laid down and felt embarrassment like I never had before as I remembered the rules and stretched my hands above my head. She paused, and I could tell something felt wrong to her. Then she got ready, and I buried my face into her bed, preparing myself, mentally seeing her raise her left hand.

The first spank didn't hurt too much... then the second surprised me with how hard it was. Clearly she meant business; clearly she was angry. Three, four, five, then she stopped. Again, that pause... something was bothering her. Then she spoke.

"Richard, you're..." she stopped, sounding frustrated and unable to find the words. Then she spoke again, and I wished I could hide. "Dripping. You're dripping on my skirt."

I wished it wasn't happening, but it was: precum was leaking from me, onto her. I started to move a hand down. Maybe I could wipe it, or stop it, or--

"Richard!! What's the rule?"

My hand stopped, and there was silence for a moment. Then I said, "Hands above the head."

"That's right. Things are a little different this time, but the rules are the rules." She paused, then I felt her right arm come down on my back... and her hand reach around under me. It brushed my cock, then I felt her wiping her dress. She kept her hand there, and I could feel its heat under my penis. She was going to catch my precum.

Her left hand suddenly came down on my butt again, hard. My body jostled, and the head of my cock touched her warm, moist hand. Spank, and it touched her hand again, sliding up and off it. She sighed angrily, and I suspected that precum had splattered on her skirt again. She raised her left hand, preparing to spank me again, then with her right hand she grabbed my cock. She spanked me, and my penis throbbed in her hand.

"It's okay, baby," she said reassuringly. "Five more."

With each hit, her hand became tighter around my cock--and with each hit, her hand moved around my cock. With the fifth hit, the pain of her punishment was secondary to the pleasure she was bringing me. The last spank came down, but her right hand kept moving. She started to go faster, and at that point no one was kidding anymore. Mom was jerking me off.

"Baby..." she said, again searching for words as her warm, tight hand made obscene noises as it slid over my cock. "Things like this happen once... then they don't happen again. Right?"

I was close... her hand was so soft, so good at this....

"Right?" she asked, squeezing me.

I grunted in response... I was very close....

"Right?!" she said, moving her hand right under the head of my cock, making a tight ring.

"Yeeaa" was all I could say before Mom's hand made me cum hard. She held me tight, and I realized she knew what she was doing. I groaned loudly into her bed sheets and she eased up on me a bit. Cum spurted out and I sighed deeply. I was out of breath, and felt like this had been all of a dream.

Mom brought me back to reality by lightly and lovingly patting me on the butt, saying, "I hope you learned your lesson, Richard."