Son is Mom's Home Healthcare Worker
My mother broke both of her arms in an automobile accident.
My name is Henry and I've always been sexually attracted to my 45-year-old MILF of a mother, Victoria. She's tall. She's beautiful. She's sexy. She shapely. She has big tits and a round ass.
With my mother prettier, taller, shapelier, sexier, and with bigger breasts than all of their short, fat mothers, my friends are sexually attracted to my mother, too. With them always talking about her, they asked me if I've have ever seen her in her bra and panties, topless, and/or naked. They asked me if I ever flashed her my naked prick. No doubt, my friends masturbate over my mother while imagining her naked and having sex with her in the way that I do, too.
Not stopping there, seemingly, their favorite topic of discussion, they continued interrogating me about my mother. They asked me if I have any sexy photos of her in a bikini. They asked me if I ever spied on her dressing or undressing. They asked me if I'd have sex with her if I could. Never wanting to invade upon my mother's personal, private space, I've never seen much more of my mother than her bra strap. I'd be as embarrassed as I'd be sexually excited if I saw anything of my mother that I shouldn't see.
Yet, with me a testosterone filled, horny, young, man, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I've wondered what my mother looked like in her bra and panties. I've wondered what she looked like topless. I've wondered what she looked like naked. In the way that my friends have clearly imagined having sex with my naked mother, I wondered what it would feel like to have sex with her, too.
Unfortunately, with her a church going woman who believed in God, my mother is morally modest. She always wears a robe over her nightgowns. She always closes her bedroom door when getting dressed and/or undressed. She always closes her bathroom door when taking a bath, a shower, or drying her hair.
Whenever she sits across from me, she always sits like a lady. I've never seen an upskirt peek of her panties or an up-nightgown peek of her naked pussy. I've never seen a down blouse view of her bra and cleavage. I've never seen a down nightgown view of her naked breasts. If my mother is anything, she's boringly non-sexual. Seemingly, a waste of a good woman, I don't know how she doesn't care about sex and/or all things sexual. No doubt, after she divorced my father for cheating on her, I imagined that she figured that her sexlife is over.
Nonetheless, unashamed, and unembarrassed to admit, I've masturbated over my mother while imagining seeing her without her clothes. I've masturbated over imagining having sex with her. I've masturbated over imagining my mother blowing me. Only, just as much as I'll never see my mother naked, I'll never have sex with her. Moreover, my mother would never blow me. She'd never suck my cock. I serious doubted if my mother sucked cock. I don't think my mother is a cocksucker.
Incestuous sex may happen with others but sex between my mother and I will never happen. If we're anything, we're friends, best friends. I loved my mother in the way that a son should love his mother and my mother loved me in the way that a mother should love her son. Just as I'd do anything for my mother, she'd do anything for me. I'd never want to ruin our close mother and son relationship by having incestuous sex or by trying to have sex with my mother.
'That's so gross,' I thought. 'Even though I masturbate over my mother, the thought of having sex with her is so nasty.'
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Suddenly, on a stormy and raining night, all of that changed. Our worst nightmare. My mother was in a bad car accident. She totally her car.
Good thing she always wears her seatbelt and always locks her doors, it's as important to wear a seatbelt as it is to lock your car doors. So many people have died from the car doors flying open and ejecting them from the car, especially if they're not wearing a seatbelt. If car doors are locked, an important safety feature, they'll never open in an accident. If a locked car door opens in an accident, you can sue the car manufacturer for damages.
An understatement, I was glad that my mother wasn't killed. After not hearing from her for hours, while wondering where she was, finally, she called me on her cellphone. Taken by ambulance to the emergency ward, I met her there to drive her home.
Suddenly, seeing my strong mother in a different light, she was totally helpless. I had to wheel her to my car in a wheelchair. Then, trying not to bump her casts, I had to gently lift her and help her in my car. From her elbows down to her wrists, she had casts on both of her arms from the impact with the steering wheel when crashing her car into a wall. If her airbag hadn't deployed, she'd be dead.
'Thank God,' I thought. 'Thank you, Jesus, for sparing my mother.'
No matter if she was wearing her seatbelt, she's lucky that she didn't hit a tree of a pole. With a wall dissipating the energy of the sudden stop across the entire front of the car instead of at one point, that would have been a fatal accidental. With her car bumper raised nearly to her roof, she's lucky to have survived the crash. I was so grateful that my mother, except for two broken arms, was alive and relatively well.
Fortunately for her, at least she didn't break her hands and/or her fingers. At least they were without a cast and free for her to use. Had she broken her fingers, she wouldn't be able to drink from a cup and/or feed herself. Her not breaking her hands and/or her fingers was a blessing. Yet, because of the casts covering her wrists, and interfering with the mobility of her hands, she had limited use of her hands. Yet, at least she could still use her cellphone and her computer keyboard.
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Yet, as soon as I saw her, after I signed my name on both of her casts, so as not to get her casts dirty and/or wet, I covered them with plastic bags taped to her casts. When the bags became dirty, I changed them. Thankfully, she'd have her casts off in four to six weeks.
After seeing my mother sitting in her chair so sadly depressed, I realized that I needed to do whatever I could do to help my mother. It started out small. She asked me to help her go to the bathroom. She told me that she needed to pee. Suddenly, instead of filled with concern to help my mother, I was filled with sexual excitement to see my mother in an embarrassing situation.
"Henry, I'm embarrassed to ask you this," she said with a pause. "I need to go to the bathroom. Could you help me to pee?"
With her casts in the way of her doing things for herself, shocked as much as I was sexually excited by what she asked me to do, she asked me to unbutton and unzip her jeans.
"Henry. I need your help. Unbutton and unzip my jeans," she said.
As if suddenly, hypnotized, by what I was about to see, I unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Then, so as not to hurt her, I slowly and carefully pulled down her jeans. Unable to remove my horny eyes from my mother's bright, white sheer panties, I stared at all I could see of my mother's panties as if I had never seen a woman wearing panties before. As if I was in a trance, having never seen her panties before, I couldn't stop staring.
Then, she looked up at me with helplessness. Too embarrassed to say the words, she asked me with her big, brown, beautiful eyes to not only pull her jeans down but also to pull down her panties, too. Filled with sexual anticipation, and as if there was a drumroll going off in my head, I slowly pulled down her panties and helped her to sit on the toilet for her to pee.
The first time seeing my mother's brown, bushy pussy, and her naked ass, I'll definitely be masturbating over all that I'm seeing now of my mother naked below the waist later. After never having seen anything of my mother, I couldn't believe that I saw her sheer, white, bikini panties. I couldn't believe that I saw her bushy, brown, naked pussy. I couldn't believe that I saw her shapely, naked ass.
Then, something that I never thought that I'd be doing, with my mother unable to do it for herself, I wiped her pussy with toilet paper. Never having wiped a woman's pussy before, I wasn't sure how to wipe her. Not wanting to hurt her, I carefully wiped her. Whether I had wiped her too hard, too fast, or too deep, suddenly my mother's face turned a bright red as a look of sexual arousal crossed her face and betrayed her emotions.
I looked at my mother shocked. Clearly, she looked embarrassed that I had seen not only her panties but also her naked pussy and her naked ass. Yet, what surprised me was the look of sexual arousal that quickly flashed across her face.
Had I sexually aroused my mother just by wiping her pussy or was she sexually aroused because I saw her naked pussy and her naked ass? Finally, when she had finished using the toilet, I squatted down to pull up her panties and her jeans. With my mouth within two feet of my mother's naked pussy, I pulled her panties and her jeans back up to her waist.
I could clearly smell the musky aroma of my mother's sexual arousal. Undeliberate in my intention, I had sexually excited my mother. I zipped her jeans and buttoned them when she was done relieving herself. Unbelievably, I had to do this process a half a dozen times a day, every day, until the doctor removed her casts.
The most unpleasant part was when she moved her bowels. I bent forward, had her stand, and had her rest her bandaged arms on my back while I turned her a little to wipe her ass. Certainly, that was embarrassing for the both of us. A first time for everything, something I may have imagined doing 35-years from now when she was 80 years old, I never thought that I'd be wiping shit from my mother's ass now.
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