Without taking his eyes off the television screen, the boy grunted, and began stroking his penis through his jeans. His mother, sitting in the armchair opposite his, noticed the movement, and twined her fingers together, knowing what would happen shortly. The programme they were watching was a nature documentary, completely innocent of sexual overtones, but she knew that had nothing to do with it, and she stared at him, her breath starting to come faster in anticipation of what would he would want her to do to him.
He slowly unzipped his jeans, and struggled briefly to free his penis - it was already semi-erect, and he sighed and settled back in his chair as he began to rub himself with long, lingering strokes. His mother felt her mouth go dry as she watched him: his penis was enormous, and the sight of it never ceased to excite her.
It was really the result of what had happened a few years agao. She had been driving him home from school as she did every day, following her usual route which she could have driven in her sleep. But they were building a new bridge over the road she always took, and suddenly without warning a slab of concrete fell on the car, crushing the roof on the passenger side. She'd suffered only minor injuries, but the boy had sustained severe damage to his head, and it soon became apparent that his brain had been seriously affected.
The doctors said that he might improve in time; his speech was barely coherent, but that might get better, and he might even get back to being completely normal, but although he was now eighteen, his mental age was much younger, and there was nothing they could do about it. She'd received considerable financial compensation, so there was nothing to worry about on that front, but although the accident was not in any way her fault she could rid herself of feeling of guilt, and she found it impossible to refuse him anything he wanted.
That included when recently he'd started to kiss her on the mouth. They were in the kitchen, washing the dishes together after dinner, when he'd spun her around and grabbed her, forcing her back against the sink as he covered her mouth with his. She'd immediately felt his erection pressing against her, and involuntarily she'd yielded in his arms, and briefly responded to his kiss. Then she'd laughed nervously and made him help her to finish the dishes, her mind in a whirl of confusion about whether she'd been right to let him kiss her like that. Would it have upset him and possibly worsened his condition if she'd stopped him, she wondered? She mentally shrugged - it had happened, and she hadn't stopped him, and that was that.
Every night she went to his room to kiss him goodnight, but that night he'd pulled her head down and forced her to kiss him on the mouth again, a kiss that lasted a long time, and soon she stopped struggling, putting her arms round him and holding him close as he continued to kiss her hungrily. Since then it had become a regular occurrence - long, ardent kisses at bedtime, and often at other times during the day. She frequently suffered pangs of guilt, especially in the knowledge that she enjoyed him kissing her, and feeling his hard cock pressed against her.
It had got even worse when he'd kissed her once unexpectedly, with his rigid penis rammed against her belly, and she'd become immediately aroused. Without thinking, she'd forced her tongue against his teeth, and when he opened his mouth slightly her tongue had hunted for his, encircling it as she clung to him, panting. Thereafter they always kissed open-mouthed, their tongues clashing, and all thoughts of stopping him fled from her mind.
It was one Sunday afternoon that he developed a new wish. They'd been sitting on the sofa - she had been reading, and the boy was stretched out, his head resting on her lap. Suddenly he twisted round and pushed himself up and kissed her, then lowered his head until he could rub his face against his mother's left breast. She'd smiled and tried to gently push him away, but he'd persisted, clinging to her seemingly on the point of tears and looking at her pleadingly. She'd hesitated for several moments, then she'd kissed him.
'If you want to, darling,' she'd whispered, and then she'd slowly unbuttoned her blouse and eased one full breast out of her bra. The boy had grunted with delight and immediately taken her nipple in his mouth, sucking furiously. She'd watched him in confusion, not knowing what to do, and then she became aware that she was becoming unbelievably aroused as his mouth worked on her nipple while his hand kneaded her breast. Almost without realising what happened her blouse and bra had disappeared completely, and she sat there, naked to the waist, feeling him stroking her bare back and shoulders as he kissed, sucked and fondled her breasts until her nipples were deliciously sore.
Her breasts had always been particularly sensitive, and she lay back, her eyes closed, drowning in the sensations her son's mouth and hands were provoking. She hadn't had sex for several months - the last time had been when she'd got talking to a man in a bookshop. He'd been visiting the town briefly on business, and he was buying a present for his daughter. Eventually he asked her to have lunch with him, and she directed him to a pub by the river, aware of the way he kept glancing at her bare legs as he drove. She'd made no attempt to pull her skirt down, and she let it ride even higher when they sat at a table in the pub, nor did she hide the fact that she found him very attractive.
She asked him about his daughter, and he pulled out his wallet to show her a photograph of the girl. To her amazement, it was a picture of a completely naked teen-ager, cupping her breasts provocatively and smiling at the camera. He told her that he always kept the picture with him to remind himself of her, and that he could hardly wait to get home to her. When they left the pub they passed through a small wooded area on the way back, and she'd asked him if he could wait a little longer, and directed him up a small track she knew. Deep in the woodland he'd stopped the car and she'd stripped naked for him, letting him fuck her first against a tree, and then on a grassy bank.
Afterwards he'd driven her home, and she'd bent down by his window as they'd said goodbye. They chatted for a moment, and she'd enjoyed knowing that he was looking down the front of her dress at her breasts, and then she'd leaned in the window to kiss him. She waved as he drove off, but when she opened the front door the boy was standing there, glaring at her.
She started to say something, but then he grabbed her shoulders and shook her like a rag doll before clutching her to him and kissing her frantically. Once again she felt his erect penis pressing against her, and as she returned his kiss she slipped her hand between their bodies and gently squeezed his cock through his jeans.
Now she was being stimulated irresistibly, and she clutched the boy's head as she was overtaken by an overwhelming orgasm as he sucked her breasts. She shuddered, letting wave after wave of her orgasm sweep through her, and she let her hand stroke his bulging erection.
That, too, had become a habit since that first time she'd touched him. That night, when she kissed him as usuaI as he lay in bed, she'd slipped her hand down beneath the bedclothes and for the first time held his bare, throbbing cock in her hand. She'd been amazed at its size, and kissed him fiercely as she'd fondled him, but then she'd jumped to her feet and rushed from the room, afraid that she'd be unable to control herself much longer.
It developed into an unusually hot summer. She took to wearing thin, short dresses, aware that the boy constantly looked at her body and legs. From time to time she still felt guilty about encouraging his awareness of her, but she told herself that he enjoyed it, and the knowledge that she excited him aroused her more and more. They kissed repeatedly, and she let him stroke her bare legs and kiss her breasts, while she often squeezed his penis. She longed to kiss it and masturbate him properly, but she didn't dare - she was afraid it might not stop there.
Sometimes she wondered if she might be teasing him too much, and that she might drive him to rape her - the idea half frightened, half excited her, as she imagined his giant cock ramming into her. She forced the thought out of her mind, and continued to let the boy see her bare thighs and caress her breasts.
He usually slept for an hour or two after lunch, and on a particularly hot day after he'd gone to bed she, too, felt sleepy, and went to her bedroom. She stood at the open window, trying to catch a faint breeze, and slowly peeled off her clothes, until she was naked apart from a pair of flimsy, practically transparent panties. The boy had stroked her legs and touched her breasts as they'd sat side by side at the kitchen table, and impulsively she'd kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth. As usual, it had excited her, and she fondled her breasts for a moment as she looked out of the window before stretching out on the bed.
She fell into an uneasy sleep, then suddenly awoke with a start, to see her son sitting on the bed completely naked, staring at her. Her first instinct was to cover herself, but then she slowly rolled onto her back, revealing her almost naked body to his eager eyes. His gaze travelled over every inch of her - her panties did nothing to conceal her neatly-rimmed bush of
hair, and the boy hesitantly rested his hand on it. He probably wonders why I haven't got a penis, she realized, but then he started to stroke her body.
It was the first time she'd seen his penis since he was a child, and she gasped at the sight of it. It was even larger than she'd imagined, and she reached out to touch it. She rolled towards him and found she could wrap both hands round it, and still its head protruded invitingly, and she swiftly kissed it. She heard the boy grunt, and she looked up at him.
'Do you like Mummy kissing you like this, darling?' she smiled, and he grunted again, nodding his head vigourously. 'Mummy likes it too, dearest, - she thinks you've got a beautiful dick,' she murmured, and started to kiss his cock in earnest, licking it and easing back his foreskin and running her tongue around the head, then letting her mouth run up and down the length of his cock as she fondled his testicles.
The boy groaned, and then he dragged her up and started kissing her feverishly, his hand roughly gripping her breast. She gave a little cry, and reached down to grasp his penis and begin rubbing it. For whatever reason his control seemed unlimited, and soon her wrist began to ache, and she wriggled round to change hands, rubbing him frantically.
