I cleaned myself off and put moms stocking in the sink under the two that she had just placed there. It was silly to try to hide all of the cum that was now coating it but I did my best. I put my T-shirt back on, grabbed a towel from the line to wrap around myself and headed up the stairs.
When I got to the kitchen at the top of the stairs mom was fixing dinner. I walked quickly by, I was nervous and embarrassed. Seems that once I shot my load of cum I was no longer brave in front of mom. I still seemed surreal that a few minutes earlier mom was just sitting there watching me jerk off. I did not make eye contact and headed straight for my room. By the time I got to my room I was already hard again. I cannot explain why, but there seemed to be some sort of sexual electricity running through me. Never had I been so turned on or cum so hard before.
I took off the towel and admired my cock in the mirror above my dresser. It now stood straight out and began to gently throb. (Thanks in part to an occasional squeeze from me). I decided to jerk off one more time before dinner. I admired my body in the mirror. I was thin for my age. My best feature was probably my legs. They were very strong even though I was only 5ā9 in height. I loved the way that my cock looked in the mirror. As I began to stroke myself and watched in the mirror, I imagined that I was watching someone elseās hand stroke me.
I got turned on as I watched āthe hand in the mirrorā stroke my cock from the base to just under the swollen head, followed by a squeeze or two. I then rhythmically reached down and squeezed my thigh ⦠and then my balls ⦠before returning to my cock to repeat the process again.
As I watched in the mirror the butterflies returned to my stomach as I kept flashing back to the look on moms face, and her legs, as I was now seeing the same thing that she had been watching earlier. My cock looked huge standing at attention like that. I had developed early and I had the cock of a man even many years before now. I watched the fantasy hand continue itās stroking and caressing in the mirror and I became even harder. In my mind I kept flashing to the look on moms face, and to the time Mr. Stevens, the school janitor had done the stroking. For some reason I always thought about that whenever I was highly excited.
Just when it was getting really good there was a knock on my door. It was Dad on his way to the bathroom, announcing that dinner was ready. My stomach sank. Dad! Oh my God. What if mom told him? What would I do or say. The butterflies immediately turned into a pit in my stomach. I stammered some answer and then threw on some clothes and went out to dinner.