Jessie Newman sat at the kitchen table staring at a picture of her eighteen-year-old son Tommy hanging from the kitchen wall. "I'm really worried about Tommy," she said suddenly, an expression of sadness on her pretty face.
"Why, what's wrong with him?" I replied, not turning my eyes from the newspaper. "He seems okay to me."
"He's been so miserable of late. He's not been sleeping enough, what with the stress and worry of exams and everything else. Not to mention the peer pressure these days. It's not like it was back when we were young, Nigel."
"I wouldn't let it worry you too much, love" I mumbled distractedly, my eyes still fixed on the newspaper.
"He never goes out to socialise anymore. The poor boy's never even had a girlfriend. Eighteen years of age, for fucks sake, and he's probably never even kissed a girl. It must be awful for him."
"I'm not bloody surprised," I laughed, looking up momentarily from the paper. "The boy's got all the grace and sexual Γ©lan of a bloody wheelie bin. What do you expect?"
"Oh, Nigel, don't say that. That's just nasty."
"Don't be daft. He'll grow out of it," I said reassuringly.
Jessie went on, "I rummaged around his room the other day - not snooping or anything like that, you understand - just picking up clothes, taking away dirty cups and plates, that sort of thing."
"Oh right," I sighed, uninterested..
"You wouldn't believe what I found in there. Everywhere I looked there was crusty tissues strewn all over the floor, semen stained socks and underpants stuffed down the side of the bed. It was even smeared all over the walls."
"That's adolescence for you, Jess: Cock full of cum and no vacant holes to squirt it in to. The trusty old right hand always saves the day, though."
Jessie wavered, then cast a concerned look in my direction, before whispering: "I even had a quick peek at his internet browsing history. You wouldn't believe the porn sites he visits. Have you ever heard of a website called Schoolgirls-Do-It-Best?"
"Nope. Can't say I have," I lied.
"Well Tommy certainly has. After all, he spends most of his time on there. He can't be getting any revision done. I dread to think what effect it's going to have on his college grades."
"That's what they're like at that age, I'm afraid," I mumbled half-heartedly, still engrossed in my newspaper. "What can you do?"
"Yeah," Jessie mused, staring vacantly into space. "I wish there was something I could do to help."
"Well, he's your son, not mine. I'm sure you'll think of something."
"I know he's not your son, Nigel, but you could at least be a bit more supportive."
"I'll do my best."
"I think he needs some sexual release, Nigel. I know he masturbates a lot but it's not the same, is it?"
"Look, Jessie!" I snapped exasperatedly, chucking my paper down onto the table. "I've been at work all bloody day. I'm trying to read over here, love. Is there any point to this conversation?"
Jessie sighed deeply and opened her Cosmopolitan magazine and turned my attention to a two-page spread article beneath a headline that read: "Are Your Son's Sexual Urges Leading Him Astray? Why Not Appease Him The Japanese Way?"
My eyes widened and mouth gaped in astonishment as I read the article. It began by noting that in many countries, not 30 minutes by plane from where you're sitting, mothers give their sons full body massages to calm them down, relieve tension, help them nod of at night. And then the extreme cases of Asian mothers who gratify their sons' sexual urges to stop them going out and meeting dirty girls and lazing around their bedrooms masturbating to porn, when they should be studying for exams.
It then went on to explain that this had been common practice throughout many Asian counties - most notably Japan - for many decades, and was now being performed more than ever. And, even more interestingly, it was now catching on and being embraced all over the western world, including Great Britain and the United States.
The columnist had even travelled up to Norfolk to interview a woman who, like many other mothers in the local area, had been slipping into bed with her eighteen-year-old son, whipping down his underpants and sucking his cock, once in the morning and then once again at bedtime.
During part of the interview, the mother said: "We as mothers have a responsibility to equip our boys with the necessary tools to achieve and succeed in life. How can we expect our sons to learn and sit exams when all they can think about is sex? My son has excelled in school, aced his exams, and is a much happier and confident boy now. And I put all this down to the fellatio I've been performing on him since his eighteenth birthday, three months ago."
She then went on to say: "Furthermore, he enjoys the experience immensely. So much so that he now insists on performing cunnilingus on me before I take off his underpants. It's also been a great learning curve for him. I am now satisfied that I can pass my boy on with a mother's pride, happy in the knowledge that I'm sending him out into the world fecund, potent and good at both giving and receiving oral sex."
I won't deny it, after reading that magazine article I was in a complete state of sexual arousal. Reading that two-page feature, extolling the benefits of mothers relieving their sons of their sexual urges, had my cock throbbing like a sore thumb.
"Fucking hell," I gasped in utter disbelief. "That's proper kinky, that is."
"So do you think it's a good idea?" Jessie asked diffidently.
It suddenly dawned on me what she was getting at. "Jesus! Are you seriously considering giving young Tommy - your own son - a suck?"
"Yeah...No...Well maybe. Oh I don't know." Jessie sat in deep thought for a moment before making a decision. "I'll start off slowly. I'll pamper him a little to begin with. Some comforting naked cuddles, maybe. Entice him into a nude play-wrestle. You know, a bit of skin-to-skin contact and then, if he responds well to that, take it a step further."