"Son. Come in here," I heard my dad say from the living room. I went in there to find him sitting on the couch.
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Well, it's your 18th birthday," he stopped.
"Yeah?" He stared at me for a second.
"Your mother and I want to give you something special."
"Okay."
"Something you'll remember for a long time."
"Alright . . . What is it?"
"Look, just follow me." He got up and headed up the stairs. I followed him up to my parents' room. He opened the door and I followed him in. My mom was sitting on the bed in her bathrobe.
"Did you explain it to him?" She asked my father.
"No . . . not really." She sighed and rubbed her temples.
"Sit down honey," she said, patting the bed beside her. "You're a man now." I nodded, still confused. "Men have certain needs, that so far you've taken care of with masturbation right?" I looked down at my feet.
"It's okay honey, you can tell me," she said, reaching out and touching my arm. "How often do you masturbate?"
I looked up at my dad, who was leaning up against the wall, and then at her. "Three or four times a day, at least," I answered.
"Really?" She said surprised.
"Is that too much?" I asked.
"No honey, it's fine." She grabbed my hand and held it in hers. "Tonight, because it's your 18th birthday, I'm going to help you take care of it."
"What?" I said.
"It's something that your grandmother did for your father when he came of age, and after much discussion, we decided that I would do the same for you."
"You mean . . .?"
"Your mother's going to lend you a hand, Son," my father said. My mother stood up and let the robe fall to the floor. She was wearing a matching lacy white bra and panties. I was confused and excited, by the sight of my beautiful mother, and the thought of her touching me.
"Get undressed and lay on the bed," she said. I took off my shirt and my jeans and carefully climbed onto the bed and laid down flat. She sat down next to me and laid her hand on my stomach, causing my erection to twitch under my boxers.
"We're going to need these off too," she said, sliding one finger under my waistband, and pulling it down, revealing my cock. She pulled my boxers all the way down my legs and off my feet.
"You have a very nice dick," my mom said, smiling at me.
"Thank . . . you," I barely managed to say. Gently she took her right hand and wrapped it around my cock. I let out a slight whimper. She slowly began to move her hand up and down my shaft.
"Do you like that?" she asked me. I nodded my head. I looked over at my dad who was grinning. I could see a bulge in his pants, which made me wonder how big he was.
My mom laid her other hand on my thigh. I closed my eyes, wanting to hold back. I groaned as I felt her left hand move to cup my balls.
"Oh god," I moaned. She started to pump faster, and suddenly I exploded. Spurt after spurt of semen shot into the air and landed on my stomach.
"How was that?" she asked.
"Thank you," I said, trying to catch my breath.
After that we cleaned up. I'm sure I couldn't stop smiling, even as we sat down to dinner. Mom had put on an attractive yet tasteful black dress. I finished chewing a bite of my steak and looked at her.
"I'd have been a lot more excited about turning 18 if I had known it meant you were going to start helping me take care of it." My mom chuckled a little.
"Honey, that was a birthday present. I'm not going to jerk you off all the time."
"Oh . . . Okay," I looked down at my food, "I'm sorry . . . I just thought . . . So it'll happen again when I turn 19?" I asked, embarrassed. "Yes," she said," Or maybe on other special occasions too, like Christmas or Graduation."
"Oh," I said, poking at my food. I glanced up and saw my parents exchanging a look.
"We'll see," my mom said, "Maybe we can work something out." I looked back down at my food and quickly excused myself.
'I am so stupid' I said to myself, as I climbed the stairs. 'How could I think she was just gonna start wanking me every night'? I took off my clothes, turned on some music and laid down. I was so embarrassed, but that didn't stop me from masturbating twice while thinking of my mom.
I woke up about noon the next day. I crawled out of bed and put on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. I went downstairs and tried not to think about last night's dinner.
I grabbed some cereal and then went to the fridge for some milk. There was a note taped to the fridge door. It said chore list at the top, in my mother's handwriting. It had a list of chores, with point values next to each. At the bottom of the list it said 'Goal --20'.
I froze. My heart started beating faster and I carefully tried to imagine any alternative possibilities. I grabbed the list off of the fridge and sat down at the table, forgetting all about the cereal I had poured.
I sat there for what felt like hours, though I'm certain it was only a few minutes, until I was startled by the phone ringing. I quickly got up and answered it.
"Hello?"
