This is a work of fiction, intended as a sexual fantasy. The behavior in this story is not condoned or encouraged by the author. All sexual activity is engaged in by characters of legal age.
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Mom/Son - Incest - Taboo - Long Story - Buildup - Edging - Teasing - Slow Burn - Coercion - Guilt - Giving In - Love - Straight Sex - Hand Job - First Time - Kinky Mom - Graphic Sex
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With a gasp, I was suddenly very awake.
The clock on my battered old dresser said 1:23 am, and the moon dumped light through the window and across the room, pooling around my bed and near my closet and leaving the rest of the room in shadow.
The night was hot, much hotter than the one before. The box fan in the hallway evaporated the sweat off my chest and legs and gave the illusion of cool. I had fallen asleep hours earlier, lulled by the sound of the movie from the living room, something old with tinny sound and lots of cursing. The last thing I had heard as I drifted away was the sound of Mom clattering around in the kitchen and giggling at something.
Someone was standing in the doorway. I jerked upright, then recognized the soft curves of the shadow. It was Mom.
She was blocking the noise and breeze from the box fan, which had been droning continuously this entire time. That must be what woke me up. All I could see was her outline.
"You scared me!" My voice cracked.
"I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, and I watched her shadow glide from the doorway into the room. In my relaxed, half-asleep state, it almost looked like she was shape-shifting. As she passed into the puddle of moonlight, I saw that she was wearing an oversize T-shirt that ended about mid-thigh. I didn't know what she was wearing underneath it, if anything. She was holding something small in her right hand but I couldn't make out what it was.
My heart started doing that thing again.
Mom sat down at the edge of the bed and put whatever she had in her hand on the mattress, out of sight in the darkness. Her weight tilted the mattress toward her and I slid slightly until her bare leg stopped me. Her leg was dewy with sweat and I caught a warm, musky, sweet smell. Breathing it felt almost like a drug.
"Is everything ok?" I asked.
"Of course," she said.
"What's going on?" Her smell was intoxicating. Did she normally smell like this and I just didn't notice?
Mom's hand ruffled my hair. "I saw you touching yourself last night."
Time skidded to a halt and my brain flatlined. She'd seen. She'd seen the whole thing. Who had I been fooling?
There was a long silence. Was she going to say something else? Should I say something? Was she angry? Of course she was angry, I'd done something disgusting and made her feel gross. My brain scrambled, not getting any traction.
"I'm sorry," I said, finally.
She laughed and mussed my hair again. "It's alright."
She took a deep breath. "Honestly, this is my fault. You've always been a slow developer, which is completely fine. But I've become complacent, and I haven't educated you the way I should."
I sat in dumb silence. This was... not a thing that I was expecting to happen in the middle of the night... or at all.
Mom cleared her throat. "Anyway, that means you've got some new urges and drives that you don't understand yet. I've noticed that and I've realized that I need to teach you about them, and help you take care of them."
Take care of them?
My brain was melting with embarrassment. I wished she'd leave, that I'd snap awake and realize it was just a dream. I wished I could just go back to watching Star Wars and drinking hot chocolate in the living room and I wish I could stop thinking about how good she smelled.
Dear God she smelled good.
"Anyway, I'm going to begin, ok?"
Begin what?
She didn't wait for an answer, and gently lifted the sheet that was covering me. Before I could even wonder what she was going to do, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my shorts.
"Lift," she said shortly. Obediently I lifted my ass up and suddenly my shorts were gone and my soft, sweaty teenage bits were basking in the early autumn moonlight.
"I can tell that you're suffering," Mom said. "It's different for boys than it is for girls. Girls experience these feelings too, but our bodies aren't creating stuff that we need to get rid of like yours are."
My brain flooded with TV static. I had no idea what to say. I didn't even know what she was talking about. I felt like I was floating above my own body, watching the conversation from the ceiling. For a long moment, we sat there in silence. Then my curiosity got the better of me.
"What do you mean?" My voice sounded cracked.
Mom took a breath, choosing her words carefully. "Do you know why you have a penis?"
I had literally never thought about it before. "I guess I assumed for peeing...?"
Mom's laugh was low and kind. "Well, of course! But didn't you ever wonder why you had these?"
Her hand gently lifted my testicles, which clung to my leg in the muggy heat. Her touch startled me but her hand was soft and cool and it felt good to be relieved of the aching weight. I breathed out sharply. "Honestly sometimes."
"It feels nice, right?" she asked. "These things have been working hard, and you've had no relief. No wonder you've been so riled up."
I propped myself up a little on my elbows so I could see what she was doing. She took her other hand and gathered me up in both of her palms. My penis began to stir, even though she wasn't touching it.
"These are two endocrine glands," she said. "They produce testosterone, which is the hormone that's been responsible for all the changes in your body, like your deep voice, your muscles, and all this lovely hair!" She playfully ran her fingers through my public hair as my stomach flopped over and over with embarrassment and a strange, powerful new feeling that I couldn't identify.
"They also produce sperm, but we'll talk about that later." Her hands reached over and grabbed the thing she was holding, and I briefly saw that it was a jar of coconut oil from the kitchen. "Your body mixes the sperm with fluid from another gland in your abdomen, and unfortunately it makes all this stuff whether you want it to or not. And it builds up and builds up and it needs somewhere to go."