My Son a Long Process

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I was quite a bit worried about my son Tom. He would simply come home from college and either sit on the sofa in the lounge or go up to his room, he never seemed to date, not girls, not boys. If not for the stains on his bedsheets and soiled tissues in his bin, I would have thought that he had no sexual desires, but he obviously did.

I didn't know how to broach the subject, perhaps I could find a way to show him I knew, that whatever he was going through, I could help him. I needed to find a way to help me too, his room quite frankly smelled, and it smelled bad. I could not change his sheets every day, I simply couldn't afford that amount of washing and detergent. I couldn't say, 'Tom, just masturbate in the shower', that would mortify him, I knew that teenage boys were very fragile where their sexual needs were concerned, but I had to do something.

I was having coffee with Maia in town and as we sipped at our lattés we were talking out our boys. Her Stefan was a college year younger than Tom, but their ages were similar.

"Oh my, Tom's room does smell," I said, "I should wash his sheets every day but I just can't."

"Stefan used to be like that," she shook her hand in the universal masturbate symbol, "several times a day, I was so pleased when he finally got a regular girlfriend, now all I have to deal with are knotted condoms in his waste basket, easier to deal with than sticky socks."

"Sticky socks?" I asked, unable to fathom what she could mean.

"Yes, he used to masturbate into a sock and then throw the sock in the laundry. He got through several socks a day, much easier to deal with than sticky sheets, and believe me, pre-socks it didn't used to confine itself to his sheets. Boy he can shoot."

"Oh my, I think Tom is the same, I hate going barefoot into his room."

"Ha, yes, tell me," Maia said laughing.

When I got home, Tom was still at college and so I hurried to his room and stripped his bed, sprayed Febreze everywhere, and then remade his bed. On his pillow I placed a sock and a small packet of tissues. I put a note under his sock. 'SOS. Save our Sheets. Use me!', and I just prayed that he got the connection and did as I asked. I also opened his bedroom window to let some fresh air in.

Later that evening as Tom lay on the sofa I spoke to him. I didn't intend to mention the sock. "I am worried about you?"

"Why mum?"

"You don't have girlfriend, I have never seen you with a girlfriend, you never mention a girlfriend. You know, if you prefer boys, that's okay."

"Bloody hell mum, no, I am not fucking gay." He seemed quite cross that I might think that he was.

"No, no, I wasn't suggesting that you were, just that it would be okay if you were. We can't help who we are attracted to."

"There are no girls or boys mum. I am not interested in any of them, they don't attract me."

"Well, it seems to me that you are healthy in that regard, so why no girls, not even one that slightly attracts you? Not even enough to try?"

"Mum, yes, no, I mean no. The only one I have ever been attracted to is unavailable, so, no one else comes close, so no, I am fine."

"Who was it Tom, who was she, why could you not explore that attraction?"

"Mum, leave it please, okay? I am fine. And yes I found the fucking sock." He got up and left and went to his room. That went well. I had no idea what I could do. I could only wonder who is mystery attraction was and why he couldn't follow up, was she already spoken for?

I sat on the sofa and I wondered if, now that Tom was older, if I shouldn't dip back into the dating pool, find someone that I could go out with, have a laugh with, a cuddle and even, perhaps, more. It had been a long time since I had been intimate with anyone other than my Battery-Operated Boy or BOB as I called it, but that, whilst giving the physical release, wasn't really enough, there was no satisfaction, just completion.

Mentally shrugging I decided to go for a shower, the days were warm, and I knew that the night would be hot, a clean body to start off with would help. I went to my bedroom and stripped, dropped my panties in the laundry hamper, my bra I hesitated with, and then in the end threw it in the laundry too. My Dress was fine and I laid that on my chair for tomorrow. I looked in the mirror and critiqued what I saw. Boobs, nice, a bit saggy, but, then I wasn't a teenager anymore. A small mummy tum, no stretch marks, no orange peel on my thighs, and my fanny hidden away behind a forest of blond curls. I should get the scissors out and neaten that up I decided.

I threw my robe on and went to the bathroom, passing Tom's room, his door half open, I looked in. Oh my. He was laying naked on his bed and my goodness; he really was a big boy. Oh my. I moved swiftly on, he would have heard me walking past and would be mortified if his mum had seen him naked. Goodness.

As the shower water warmed, I hung my robe over the back of the door and stepped under the warm water. I turned the head to needle and sprayed myself starting at my shoulders and worked down, my nipples tingled a little as I sprayed them, goodness that wasn't usual, and then as I went down the spray hit my vulva at just the wrong angle and pounded my clitoris. I think my knees must have failed, I thought I was going to fall. Oh. Wow, I haven't had a feeling like that in a very long time. I was just having a shower, why, why did I almost have an orgasm?

I turned the shower head to rainfall and just washed, my mind all over the place, what had caused that moment? Could it have been seeing Tom's penis? No, surely not, he is my son, that kind of cause and effect shouldn't happen. After I had finished showering, I sat on the loo and trimmed my pubic hair, nice and short and neat. My labia now more visible, not that anyone would looking, but anyway, neater. I flushed to loo, washing my trimmings away, put my robe back on and went back to my room, resisting the urge to have another look through Tom's open door.

I took my robe off and had a proper look at my newly trimmed area in my bedroom mirror. Yes, neater, tidier and I thought much better looking. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and saw the back of Tom reflected in the mirror going back to his room. I hadn't shut my bedroom door fully and so from where I was stood, I could see through the partially open bedroom door onto our landing. 'Must have gone to the loo' I decided.

My dreams that night were hot and torrid, sex with half remembered boyfriends, with Tom's dad, images of naked Tom mixed all in. I woke up very hot and very much in need of a shower, especially down there. I grabbed my robe, threw it on and dived to the bathroom. I walked in on Tom, naked standing there.

"Oh gosh Tom, sorry," I said backing out, Tom turned, and his erection swung into full view. "Sorry, I'll come back," I muttered as I realised my robe wasn't done up and I had just given my son a full frontal. Oh my God, he would be traumatised, no boy needs to see his mum naked. No boy needs his mum to see him naked with a fully engorged erection.

"No worries mum, I won't be long," he said and turned back. It seems I was the only one mortified. I tied up my robe and went downstairs, put the kettle on and threw some slices in the toaster, and as the appliances were both doing their things, I stood up, leaning on the counter top, playing back the bathroom disaster. He is indeed a big boy. He is my son. I had been effectively naked before him. He is my son. Stop it, stop it, I chided myself. Stop it, he is your son.

"Morning mum, bathroom is free now," Tom said as he walked into the kitchen. I turned thankful to see he was wearing boxers at least, and that my robe was firmly tied to.

"Kettle has boiled, and toast has popped. Help yourself, if you have all the toast, pop two pieces in for me, I am going to shower. I plan on sunbathing today; the forecast says it is going to be a hot one."

"Okay mum, I may join you."

I went back up and into the bathroom and hung my robe on the door and got in the shower. After a rainfall wetting I turned the head to needle and sprayed my boobs, my nipples again tingling as the hot water pummelled them. I moved the head down and aimed at my vulva, oh yes, there it was. As I rotated the head in my hand, aiming at my labia, there was just one angle that exactly hit the spot, oh my. This was so much better than BOB, and as I played I was able to increase and then decrease the feeling, my orgasm was approaching but I could keep it at bay.

Who was I kidding, I needed release, and I stopped playing, turned the head to the right angle and let my orgasm explode through my body. I was pretty sure I gasped very loudly, luckily Tom was downstairs in the Kitchen. Oh my.

I stood and patted myself dry with the towel. I ran antiperspirant under my boobs, I do tend to perspire there a bit, in my arms pits and my inner things. Put my gown on and went back to my bedroom and looked through my bikinis. I found the one I wanted, a small orange bikini that was almost too indecent for a public beach but was absolutely fine in the seclusion of our own back garden. It covered my nipples, and almost covered my pubic hair. If I had been dark haired, I would definitely have had to shave, but with blond hair, well, it was mostly unnoticeable. I thought. I put my robe over the top and went down for some breakfast. Tom was still sat in the kitchen munching toast.

I buttered the two pieces of toast that were left, made a lapsang souchong tea and sat down. "I think I am going to get out there early Tom," I said, "I don't want to waste the sun, knowing our weather it'll be cloudy and raining this afternoon."

"True mum, you just never know what is going to happen." I wondered if that was a veiled reference to the 'Bathroom Incident' of this morning, probably, sometimes Tom tried to be clever and sometimes he really just failed. I ignored it.

It was just over 20˚C according to the weather app, and that was a good start, I wouldn't shiver, and I don't like shivering as it tends to create an issue in the nipple department, and, well, like most women I guess, I don't like my nipples sticking through my clothing. I wondered if men felt the same about erections, or were they just proud of what they had and deemed it a display of virility? No idea.

I lined the sunbed up southeast, the sun would shine upwards across my body, and laid my lounger towel on it, raised the backrest, grabbed my iPod and earbuds, and sat down. I selected a spoken story, some rather silly romance, but it would just pass the time, lay down, my legs a little apart so as not to create a tan shadow on my thighs and relaxed into the book, the heroine was swooning at a muscled guy at the gym, oh dear. Oh well, I closed my eyes at zoned out.

"Mum," Tom was tapping my arm, "I have brought you some iced water."

I opened my eyes and looked over my sunglasses and took the glass of water.

"Thank you, baby," I said and took a sip, oh that was welcome, it had become quite a scorcher out here. I sat up and rubbed more sunscreen over my legs and body, my legs scrunched up, my feet near my bottom as I applied the cream. Tom had put his sun lounger directly opposite. He was sat facing me, earbuds in and his iPhone under the lounger out of the sun. I lay my legs back down and looked across at Tom. He was wearing his blue swim shorts; they really were rather tight and there was no mistaking the outline of his penis. Goodness, I shouldn't look, thank goodness my sunglasses hid where my eyes were looking. He would be terribly embarrassed if he thought I was looking at his penis.

Oh lummy it twitched, and I could see it growing before me, he was getting an erection. But what was causing it, it couldn't be me for goodness's sake, I was covered up, and he was at danger of bursting out of his trunks. I didn't know what to do, I closed my eyes and tried very hard not to look.

In my minds eye I had a replay of him in the bathroom this morning. I knew exactly what was hidden beneath his swim trunks and what it looked like. Stop it, stop it, stop thinking about your son's penis I told myself, but it was no good, I was not able to control my thoughts, and I suddenly had an image of him naked standing in front of me and I knew that I was wet, I had been aroused by my son.

I opened my eyes, and oh my God it was poking out of the top of his trunks, a good inch was exposed, an inch of his hard erect penis. What should I do? Should I say something, or should I ignore it. As I looked he put his hand over his trunks and tweaked it. He knew, he knew it was there, he knew he was exposing himself to me. What should I do?

I suddenly felt a breeze, a waft of air at my crotch and I realised that my bikini bottom had moved and had exposed me. That is what he could see, his mother's labia, no wonder. Oh God, I hoped he didn't think I had done it on purpose. I sat up, not looking at him, "Just going to the Loo Tom," I said and hurried indoors to the downstairs loo. God, my bikini bottom was pulled all the way to the side, my entire sex had been exposed, and the way I had been laying with my legs apart, my labia would have spread, he would have seen everything I had.

I was soaking wet down there too, what? I mean, why, what part of being exposed to my son had caused my arousal? I wiped myself dry, resisting the urge to just play with my little bean, pulled up and correctly adjusted my bikini bottom and went back out. Tom had thankfully returned to normal in my absence, I hoped things would not go awry again.

After a few hours listening to puerile romances, I decided I had had enough. "I'm going in Tom, I need some shade. I will do us some lunch. Omelette, okay?"

"Yes mum,"

When I got in the house I double checked and my modesty had been maintained, no more wardrobe malfunction. Thank goodness. I cracked some eggs into a bowl and beat them with a little milk and salt. I grated some cheese and diced some tomato, no surprising I was making cheese and tomato omelettes for lunch. Whilst was waiting for the pan to warm up I went up to grab some laundry. The undies I wore yesterday were missing. Okay, something else for me to process. I had to decide how to tackle that.

Omelettes made I called Tom in. As we were eating, I said, "By the way Tom, I am doing laundry later, so anything you need washing needs to go in the laundry basket." I nearly added 'or back into the laundry basket' but I decided we had had enough trauma today, and so left it at that.

"Okay mum, yes, I have a few things."

'Socks?' I wondered, but didn't say.

We sat there in the relative cool of the kitchen, me in my minuscule bikini, and Tom in his sometimes too small trunks. There was no small talk, he had no girlfriend for us to talk about, I knew nothing about gaming and we chatted about films and TV programmes as we watched them, often pausing them to do so. So, no real common ground.

"Mum," he said breaking our silence.

"Yes Tom."

"I might need some new trunks."

"Oh, okay," yes you definitely do.

"Okay, those too small?"

"No, not really they are a little large actually."

Crumbs, they barely contain him now. "We can go out this afternoon and get some if you like, I might look at bikinis."

"Okay, but there is nothing wrong with your bikini, you look good in it, and it does what it is supposed to."

I wondered what he meant by that; did he mean by looking good that it reveals my everything?

"Oh, okay Tom, thank you, I think the elastic in the gusset is a little loose, I may just look and see what there is, I don't want a malfunction." I hoped that he would think that I did not realise that a malfunction had already occurred, it would save him embarrassment.

"Okay mum, I'll go and get changed."

I gave him a few minutes to sort out the laundry, I put the dishes in the dishwasher and then went up to get changed. I decided a light cotton sundress, it was still very warm out, a cotton bra and matching panties and my Scholls. I looked at the labels on my bikini and noted the sizes, I wanted to get exactly the same size, it was a good fit, and there really was nothing wrong with the gusset, and I had no idea how my bits managed to escape, I guess I wasn't careful when I pulled them up. Oh well.

"Do you know what size you want, because you can't normally change clothes worn next to the groin."

"Yes mum. Those are an L; I want to see if they have a medium.

"Okay, the sports shop in the centre on the ring road is the best first bet."

Parking was easy, there was a spot right outside the door. Locking the car I let Tom go off and see what he could find, and I went to the Ladies Swimsuits area. There was a surprisingly small selection, many one pieces, which obviously I didn't want. I asked an assistant if there were any more and she asked what I wanted it for, and I said predominantly sunbathing in the garden. She suggested I looked at the tanning suits and she pointed them out across the store.

Well, my goodness, yes there were a lot, but I wasn't sure I would be brave enough to wear them. They were micro in size, but, well, I had already displayed, albeit unintentionally, everything, so, as long as they made an effort of covering up, then I supposed they would do. The next shock was the price, it seems you paid for what wasn't there, rather than what was. I selected two outfits and went to find Tom.

He had also selected two outfits, both looking somewhat smaller than he already had. I said nothing about size.

"Happy? Only you know we can't bring them back."

"Yes mum."

I paid for our items, and we headed back home, with a quick diversion to a costa drive through for a couple of summer berry coolers. When we got home the weather remained warm, but the sun was hiding behind hazy clouds, and I didn't feel like cloud bathing. Tom said he was going on his X Box, and I decided to explore the laundry.

My missing panties were back, as were three odd Tom socks. Those I handled as little as possible, knowing full well what they would be full of. What he had done with my panties was unclear, there were no signs of his emissions on them, had he just sniffed them? I had no idea what goes through a teenager's mind, I had kind of thought that he would be trying to get as many girls into his bed as he could, but that didn't seem to be his thing. Yes, he was sexually active, but only by himself. I could not get my head around it.

I decided to try on one of my new tanning suits, this one was in yellow. I am never sure whether yellow goes with blond hair or not, but I decided it would be okay in the garden. I put the top on, which was really nothing other than two nipple shields and a bit of string, and then the bottoms.

Oh.

Well that wouldn't do. Looking in the mirror it highlighted my pubic hairs far too much. If I was to wear this suit they would have to go. I haven't been hairless down there for a very long time. My husband had preferred no hair, and after he was gone, there hadn't seemed to be any point in maintaining a hair free groin. Now, there was.

I went into the bathroom and sat on the loo and got my scissors out and trimmed, I trimmed with gusto and removed as much as possible, but it really wasn't enough. I would have to shave. I grabbed the shaving gel and smothered my groin, gosh it was cool on my skin. Grabbed one of the disposable razors and started to shave.

I was concentrating, last thing I wanted was to cut anything down there, and then, "oops, sorry mum, I'll go down stairs." By the time I looked up the door was closing. I assumed Tom had walked in. Oh lummy.

I carried on and eventually I felt smooth, no hairs, no stubble. I turned the shower on and washed all the gel residue away, and discovered that the shower now didn't need to be quite so precisely aimed as it had before. Nice.