I had moved back in with my parents for a while after breaking my right arm. It genuinely shocked me to find out how helpless I was without my primary hand, and with some persuasion, moved back home. At twenty two it was a kick in the guts but necessity outweighed pride.
My mother had been made redundant earlier in the year, but with her payout and low living costs for her and my dad, they had agreed she didn't need to look for more work, so she stayed at home.
In the evenings the three of us would play games, build jigsaws or mostly watch television, but during the day it would just be me and my mother.
It felt a bit awkward just vegetating on the sofa while she played the housewife around me, but eventually she would finish and come sit beside me and we would watch television together, mostly daytime crap we would scoff at or the odd film.
Having little in common, I had never really spent time alone with my mother before. Conversation was always a little awkward and directionless, even forced, so we often sat in silence unless we had food, drink or the channel to discuss.
My mother always wore dresses in summer, calves bared, bare or sandalled feet, dark brown hair tied loosely back, and a deep cleavage line, displaying a proud crevasse of flesh. Being a chubby woman, her dress showed her broad hips and round backside, along with her slightly pudgy stomach.
It did disturb me whenever I considered my taste in women and would essentially describe my mother. I would sometimes catch myself ogling her cleavage while she busied herself around me and when we were sat together
One day, she came to sit with me and I saw her nose wrinkle. I knew this day would eventually come and just said "Sorry, I just can't get my left hand everywhere in the shower."
She stood and said "Well come on then, we can't have you making this whole house smell of boy."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean I will help you shower. Come on, upstairs, now."
I followed her upstairs and into the bathroom. I stripped down to my boxers and she looked at me expectantly.
"I need my swim shorts." I said.
"No shorts, you are getting clean." My mother asserted.
I cringed as I slid my boxers down and stepped out of them.
My mother turned on the shower and told me to get in. I stepped under the hot downpour while my mother left to change into her swimsuit. I couldn't really argue about that, both of us naked would have been weird.
She returned and climbed into the tub, pulling the curtain. She was wearing a purple bikini, and instantly I felt a twitch between my legs. I cursed to myself, I hadn't been able to masturbate properly since the accident, and now my mother was in front of me in a bikini that barely concealed her fat tits. I knew her dress size was eighteen, but her bra size I was less sure of, but somewhere in the region of 38E or F I would wager.
She soaped up a sponge and began scrubbing me, nudging me with her hand when she needed me to turn. I couldn't stop myself ogling her breasts, they looked set to spill out of her bikini top. She seemed awkward when she noticed my now-full erection. All I could do was blush and say "Sorry mum, I haven't been able to do anything since my accident. I think it must be the heat."
"I'd never even thought about that side of things." My mother said, somewhat sympathetically.
She continued washing me, and as she came close, she would brush against my cock. Sane thought had abandoned me by now; all I could think about was cumming somehow. I started gently rubbing myself against my mother's leg. I couldn't believe I was doing it, and I was praying she hadn't noticed, but she eventually cleared her throat and backed away slightly.
"Sorry, I'm, just going crazy, how about you help me out?" I pleaded. I couldn't believe I was saying it, but when a guy has a couple of weeks' worth of jizz in his balls, rational thought is a memory.
"Is it really that bad?" My mother asked. I nodded helplessly. My mother pulled an awkward grimace and muttered "Okay, close your eyes."
I closed them and felt my mother's soapy hand close around my rock-hard shaft. She began gingerly stroking, her thumb and index finger passing over the head and the rest of her fist gripping my shaft.
I gasped aloud as my mother began to masturbate me, the action making squelching noises with the soap and water cascading over us both. I opened my eyes, and saw my mother before me, right hand gripping my cock pulling it toward her. She was gazing at the wall, concentrating on something else, and her huge breasts were jiggling with the motion. Without thinking I reached out my left hand and pulled one of her bikini tops to the side, spilling out one of her breasts, her large nipple pointing at me. She cringed but didn't stop me. I freed her other breast and gently cupped them one at a time , squeezing the soft flesh.
That was enough. I grunted and great jet of cum leapt from the tip of my cock and splattered against her stomach. Two more spurts followed of equal force, followed by two that fell onto her feet. Something about cum in water turns it to glue, and I found myself ogling my now topless mother trying to wipe all my semen from her tummy and her feet.
We wordlessly finished the shower and went to our rooms. As I dried myself off, post-orgasmic clarity settled in and I thought about what had just happened; and I had no idea how I felt. It was surreal, my mother had pulled me off in the shower while I fondled her tits.
As the three of us ate dinner that night, neither of us spoke, we just ate, and I returned to my room. Much later that night, my mother surprised me by gently knocking on my bedroom door.
