Frenching Davids Mom

Note: I don't speak French and don't like to read or write in dialect – so just think French when you read Michael's lines. And don't give me any 'merde.'

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Chapter 1

"I've only been in zees coontray since June," I lied to my new best friend.

But since I did it with a very convincing French accent, he totally believed it. In fact, I had only lived in the state since June. Before that it was North Carolina, and before that Washington, and before that California as my father dragged my mother and me around the country. Luckily I was about to graduate from high school, so I would soon be able to live in the relatively stable environment of a college campus.

It was no picnic always being the new kid. I tended to do a lot of things for my own amusement - having always had an excellent ear for music, I was pretty sharp on the guitar and piano. I guess whatever sensitivity enabled me to pick up these instruments also gave me the talent to mimic accents and pick up languages pretty easily. This provided my other source of amusement - pretending at school to be new to this country. Hell, I knew I'd be gone in a couple of months - so for my own amusement, I would assume the identity of being from some foreign country or another. I never took it too seriously, but did try to at least be believable. For example, ain't nobody going to believe I'm from Ethiopia or Peking.

As I got older, I had to be careful because the languages would be taught at my schools – I knew enough words to find a bathroom and the train station, but not a whole lot more. But I continued to take the risk because a) it was fun, 2) I quickly learned that girls love a guy with an accent, and 3) so what if I got busted – it was no crime.

David was asking me a lot of questions about France which I tried to answer convincingly. Being teenage boys, of course, the conversation quickly turned to Europe's more casual attitude toward nudity.

"Do the girls really take their tops off at the beach?"

"Of course. And the bottoms too at many places."

"So there are naked girls all over the place?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, I don't understand the American way of dressing to go to the beach. It is like dressing to take a bath."

"So, like the girls you went to school with – "

"Yes, I've seen many of them naked at the beach." I reveled in driving him crazy. "And my family too."

"You mean, like your . . . mother?" I caught him subtly shifting in his chair to accommodate his growing dick. I had the feeling that if we were talking on the phone, he would be jerking off by now.

"All the time - it's just not a big deal. To be honest, it is not the least bit sexy."

At just that second I saw his mom outside the door and wondered how much she had heard. Of course, given her slow movement, she had probably heard everything. David had introduced us on the way in and told me she had gotten a very bad sprained back in an auto accident and was still moving very slowly with a walker.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help overhearing."

I could see David seemed a little panicked. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said immediately.

"No, its OK. In fact, I wondered if you could help me out. This is my first attempt at a shower since the accident. Could I impose on you to give me a hand?"

"Sure," David volunteered - a little too eagerly I thought.

"Uh, no honey. Actually, I meant Michael." David looked crushed. "This might get a little . . . revealing, and it sounds like he is accustomed to that. "

"Of course I will help you," I said trying not to do cartwheels into the hall. Despite her infirmity, David's mom was hot!

Clearly David didn't like this at all. "Mom, I really think – "

"This really isn't something a son should do with his mother. At times like this, I wish I hadn't insisted Lori finish her exams. It's not anything Michael hasn't seen a thousand times."

I tried to be nonchalant as we disappeared behind the closed bathroom door. On the inside, I was going fucking nuts knowing I was going to see a real live naked woman. I had dated several girls in the various schools, but since we moved so much, there had never been time for a real relationship.

"Will you be taking a bath or shower?" I asked, trying to sound totally at ease.

"I was thinking shower since I have trouble standing and sitting. But if you'll help me, I think I will try a bath."

"Good idea," I agreed. "Then you can relax as long as you wish." I instinctively knew that the accent would put her at ease. I nearly came as she untied the sash on the robe. "I have trouble lifting my arms; can you help me off with this?"

"But of course," I said, thinking I might have sounded a little too Pepe LePew-ish on that one. From the rear, I opened the robe and drew it back to reveal a beautiful set of bare shoulders, and a cascade of blonde hair that she shook clear of the robe. As I removed the robe, I could see that she had been completely nude beneath it. Every natural instinct told me to put my arms around her; but I merely hung the robe up, knowing better than to ruin my good fortune with a quick grope.

She stood nude and totally immobile facing away from me. My mind reeled trying to think of something to say. "You have no casts or scars – are you hurt badly?" Had she been clothed, it would have been natural to walk around in front of he at this point. So that is what I did.

"I had some bad bruises here and here," she said pointing to her legs and hips, giving me a perfect excuse to stare at her awesome bare body. "Mostly, it was just my back, though. Getting up and down is very painful as is turning or raising my arms. Would you mind turning on the water, please?"

"Oh sorry," I said turning the faucet. "How foolish of me - let me get your robe while it runs."

"No, don't bother. I can tell this is no big deal to you."

So I stood and made small talk with my friend's beautiful buck naked mother while the tub filled. I tried my best not to stare at any one spot for too long, but I was able to see that she did have a very nice body – not what I expected for a woman old enough to be my mother, but that was probably just my ignorance. Her breasts might have sagged a little more than the girls in Playboy, but they were no less full and beautiful. After 3 or 4 minutes, I turned the water off.

"How do we do this," I asked, forcing her to make the first move.

She moved me around beside her and instructed me to put one arm around her bare back, resting on her waist, and to take her arm with the other hand. She slowly stepped into the tub. I then used both hands on her arms to ease her down slowly into the water.

She laid back in the large tub, her nude body totally exposed through the clear water. "Thank you so much. I'm glad you were here, otherwise I might have had to get my son to help me."

I hoped David wasn't listening outside the door - if he overheard that, he would kill me. "No problem at all," I said.

"Will you be here for a while longer. I mean, can you help me get back out."

"Of course. Just call out and I'll come back in to help you."

She eased back, smiling with her eyes closed. I stole one last look and went back to David's room.

I was stunned, shocked! David was in his room completely nude and furiously jerking off. Furthermore, he didn't seem to care that I had come back into the room. "Oh God, I can't believe you were in there with my mom!" he gasped.

"Take it easy. It was no big deal." It made me a little uncomfortable, but I couldn't leave – not without giving up another session with that gorgeous nude babe.

"Did you touch her?"

I was torn between wanting to torture him a little, and not wanting to push him so far that he rebelled. "I just put my arms around her to ease her into the tub."

"Oh, God, you had your hands on my nude mom!" he panted. Suddenly with a few more gasps, he began shooting like no one I had ever seen before (of course I was the only one I had ever seen before). Rope after rope of semen ejaculated from his stiff dick. I was embarrassed that it actually turned me on a little.

After he came, he collapsed on the bed. "Tell me everything, please," he pleaded pathetically, still stroking his dick.

"Well, I slipped off her robe, then ran the water for the tub while we talked."

"She was just standing there naked?"

"Yeah, for a couple of minutes."

He was fully erect again and stroking like a madman.

"Mike, don't take this the wrong way, but I am so fucking horny – would you suck me off?"

"Don't take it the wrong way? Are you crazy?"

"Sorry, I'm just so horny, and I thought Europeans were open to that sort of thing."

"You're thinking of the English," was all I could come up with.

A few minutes later, his mom called me I again. "Wait, wait," he begged. "Maybe I could go in with you this time. Or you could leave the door open just a crack."

"No, that wouldn't be fair to your mother, her being totally naked," I said evilly.

I returned to the bathroom and was treated to another look at his mom, totally nude in the tub. "Oh, Michael, good – I was afraid you wouldn't hear me."

"I kept one ear .. . .er, cooked?"

She gave a little giggle that was more girlish than I expected. "I think you mean cocked."

"Of course," I laughed. Inside I congratulated myself for getting her to say "cocked" – I must have a little Beavis and/or Butthead in me.

She had let the water drain out before calling me and had dried herself as much as possible while in the tub; but she was making no special effort to cover herself with the towel. In fact, she tossed it up on the sink before asking me to help her up.

Ever the selfless gentleman, I put one foot in the tub behind her, and put my hands under her arms to help lift her. Inevitably, they were brushing against the sides of her breasts. "Up we go, Ms. Wallace."

As she slowly pushed down on the sides of the tub to help me raise her, she said almost grunting, "Under the circumstances, I think you can call me Helen."

"Merci, Helen," I said. At just that moment, her heel lost traction on the tub floor and down she went. I caught her only a few inches down, accidentally - I swear! – by instantly reaching around, grabbing her breasts in my hands, and pulling her tight against my chest. I apologized immediately, "I am so sorry, Helen!" But I couldn't release them without dropping her.

"Owwwwww – my back!" she cried.

My hands were starting to slip, and my back was about to give out. "Up or down? Quick, please, Helen."

"Back down . . . NO, UP! Stand me up! Or I'll have to spend the night in the tub."

I was able to lift her a bit more, and then support her as she straightened her legs and leaned back against my chest. Reluctantly I removed my hands from her breasts, and inserted them under her arms again. Slowly, and clearly in agony, she stood.

Once she was erect - and that made 2 of us – I quickly pulled my hands away from her. "I am so sorry I had to touch you like that, Helen."

"Come around in front of me," she said, still immobile. The naked woman did not have to ask twice.

She looked me in the eye. "You didn't do anything wrong, Michael." She could not move her body, but was able to take my hands in hers. "If you hadn't caught me, I would have really broken my back." She began caressing my hands and guided them, pressed against her flat stomach, under her hands. "I know the nudity doesn't phase you, but I need you to be totally comfortable with this." Her hands continued to lead mine until they were again resting on her breasts.

I must have had a look of absolute shock on my face.

"It's OK," she said. "Take your time. You can also consider this a 'thank you' for your help."

Gradually, I began caressing and then squeezing her beautiful boobs. They were so warm, and softer than I had expected. I cupped them in my hands, feeling their weight on my palms, testing how much they bounced; then slid my hands slightly to their sides and began kneading them.

"Is the first time you've touched a woman's breasts?" she asked.

I could only nod, never taking my eyes off of her large breasts, hypnotized by the sight of my fingers sinking into her flesh, and warmth overflowing my hands. I could have gone on like this all night.

After about 15 seconds, she said with a smile, "OK, back to business," and gently pulled my hands away from her chest.

"Hunh? Oh," I said, slowly reawakening. I grabbed her robe off the hook and began to drape it over her shoulders.

"No, I better put some clothes on while you're here, or I'll never be able to." She kept it simple, and I helped her slip on a pair of shorts, and a T-shirt. Not being able to bend over, or raise her arms over her head, she was almost helpless. She very slowly, greatly assisted by me, lifted one left over the side of the tub, rested for a full minute, then lifted the other.

I positioned her in front of her walker and opened the door. To our surprise, David was sitting against the wall opposite the door – well, to his mother's surprise, I guess. He leapt up – what happened? It sounded like you fell."

"I did. I would have broken my back if David hadn't been there to . . . lend a hand." She smiled at me. "Or two hands, actually."

David looked at me with a mix of awe, hate, envy, and burning curiosity about what happened.

"Thank God you happened to come over – I hadn't had a full bath since the accident – I was starting to get pretty gamy."

"I am happy to help, Helen."

She let out a little laugh and said, "If you hadn't been here, I probably would have had to get David to give his old mother a bath!"

We returned to David's room and he shut the door. I promised to give him some details if he would keep his pants on. I again tried to walk the fine line between driving him crazy and pissing him off so much that I was never invited back.

In a final spin to get in his good graces, I informed him, "David, I can see that you think your mother is a beautiful woman. You might be interested to know that I was able to convince her that dressing would be simpler and less painful if she did not wear a bra or underwear."

"You mean she is naked underneath that T-shirt and shorts?"

"Oui."

"I've got to get out there," he said excitedly.

"OK - I have to go, anyway" I said, not completing the rest of the sentence: "to beat my meat like a madman."

On the way out, I stopped to say goodbye to his mother. "Don't get up," I said with a smirk.

"Gee, thanks," she giggled again. "But, really thanks for helping me tonight."

"My pleasure," I said, regretting it immediately.

This time it was Helen smirking. "I'll bet." The look on David's face was indescribable.

"No, no – I only meant – "

"It's OK," she assured me. "I know what you meant. I don't think my back could stand another bath for a few days, but I would love to wash this greasy hair. Are you free tomorrow night?"

I looked to David who was nodding vigorously.

"Yes, of course – au revoir, Helen."

"Au revoir."

At the door, David confided, "God she looks hot in that T-shirt!"

"Maybe tomorrow will be something even better," I teased.

"You're the greatest!" he gushed. "Now get out of here so I can go check her out."

We said our goodbyes, and as I left, I heard him call back to his mother – "Hey, was that Golden Girls on TV? My favorite!"

Chapter 2

I returned the next evening. David, his mother, and I had pizza for dinner. David and I cleaned up the plates and glasses so his mother could rest in the living room.

"God she looked so cute in that little T-shirt last night!" he exclaimed.

"You are lucky to have such a beautiful mother," I said.

"Last night I walked her to bed, but she made me leave when she climbed in. But I did have my arm around her bare waist when her shirt slipped up."

"Slipped?"

Well, I slipped my hand under her shirt onto her bare waist for a few seconds – does that count?"

"You are such a naughty son!" Of course, part of me was dying to say, big deal – I was feeling up her boobs last night."

When Helen was ready, David and I each took an arm and helped her to the bathroom. He was determined to be a part of things tonight. They had already planned this out and there was a metal folding chair in the shower stall, facing away from the shower head. We helped her step into the stall – clearly not built for 3 people, and eased her into the chair. David draped a towel around her neck. It had seemed like a good idea, but once she was in place, it was obvious it just wasn't workable.

"I don't know about this, Helen. You don't have a . . . how you say?" I did a little pantomime of spraying my self.

"A shower massage?" David offered.

"Yes. The shower is so high that water will be going all over you."

"Oh, shoot, David. He's right. I guess I'll have to try to do this standing up. I'll be OK if I just stand still."

We helped her up, and her head was just under the nozzle – perfect.

"Well, I'll get drenched this way – the clothes will have to go. Michael, could I impose on you to help me out again?"

"But, of course."

This did not sit well with David. "I can help, Mom," he said - a little desperately, I thought.

"No, honey. That's sweet, but I'm going to have to be naked for this. You'll have to leave."

I walked out into the hall with David. He was clearly no longer interested in living vicariously through me. I tried to calm him down and promised him that I would find a way for him to get in on the action. I returned to the bathroom and closed the door. The last thing David saw was his mother unbuttoning her shirt.

"Well. Here we are again," she said to break the ice.

"Please don't be nervous," I said. "As you said, this is not so unusual for me."

"I just hate having to impose on you like this."

I helped her with the top button and eased the shirt off to expose her bare breasts. She told me that it was impossible for her to put on or take off a bra, so she had taken to wearing heavy shirts to camouflage her breasts in front of David. No wonder the T-shirt last night was such a treat for him.

Helen unbuttoned her shorts; they were a little large on her, so gravity did the rest. "One benefit of the accident is that I've lost some weight."

She carefully stepped out of the shorts as I removed them from the shower. I tried not to be too obvious as I again gazed upon her beautiful nude body as the water began cascading over her bare skin.

"Oh, that feels good. It's been sooo long," she sighed.

"Should I wait for you outside?" I asked.

She looked at me through the clear glass door. "No, this is where I really need your help. I can't lift my arms over my head; would you mind lathering my hair up? I promise we'll make it quick."

Holy shit! This gorgeous naked woman was inviting me into the shower with her! Of course, I quickly agreed. I stepped into the stall and we both immediately saw a problem.

"Oh, gosh – you're going to get soaked!"

I guess I'm not too bright - My first thought was how I would explain the wet clothes when I got home.

Helen had the answer in a flash. "Michael, you've been so sweet about helping me. Would I be out of line to suggest that you get undressed to help me? Please tell me if this is wrong."

There was one big (or – I like to think - slightly larger than average) problem. "Uh, no I do not mind taking off my clothes as I have done many times at the beach." Inside I cringed at how stilted that sounded, even with an accent. "It's just that my . . . I mean, I . . . I mean . . . "

She put a hand on my shoulder. "It's OK – I know how things are for young men your age. I have one living in my house, you know. I've seen David pitch a tent watching the Weather Channel. I guess it's the same all over the world."