Paul opened the door so his mom could sit in the passenger seat of his convertible Mustang. He reached in to fasten the lap belt across her waist. He was feeling pretty good about himself. He was feeling pretty good about his plan to advance his new more intimate relationship with his mom. He'd always thought his mom was pretty and sexy. Even his friends thought she was sexy.
But now he'd seen her naked and had even helped her to a much needed orgasm. His 20 year old dick pulsed every time he thought about that.
Her friend Pam had shown him how to wash his mom's hair in the wash basin at the salon. Actually she'd offered to do it for him, but he wanted to do it, and said so. He saw a knowing smirk on Pam's lips when he told her, but she didn't say anything.
So he had sensuously washed her hair... at least he hoped it was sensuous for her; it certainly was for him! And then she sat in one of the styling chairs while Paul used one of Pam's blow dryers to dry and style her hair. Not a fancy style, just a simple swept-back style with a part on the side.
Now riding in the convertible in the warm sunshine with the wind blowing in her clean hair Ellen felt happy for the first time since the accident. With the top down and the radio on they couldn't talk without yelling, so Ellen had some time to think.
She knew she had crossed a line with her son earlier, one she never imagined she would cross. But she had, and now she didn't know how she felt about it. On the one hand she had really needed the release of the orgasm, and it had been so much better with someone else giving her that release, even if it was her own son. On the other hand, she felt guilty for letting herself go, for letting herself enjoy the feelings her son was giving her, for letting him see her sexuality.
Ellen had always had a strong sex drive. She had been a bit of a slut when she first went to college. When she first met Robert, the man she would marry, she had stopped slutting around with any boy who wanted her. She even made Robert wait until their third date to give him a blow job, and for their fifth date to fuck her.
And that's when she'd found that his sex drive was as strong as hers. After that they couldn't get enough of each other. When she took him home for the weekend to meet her parents she had sneaked into the den where he was sleeping on the couch while her parent's slept upstairs.
When Robert died in a place crash she was lost. She wouldn't allow herself to go out and let a man pick her up for sex. She tried to please herself. Fortunately she and Robert had acquired a nice selection of toys- various vibrators and dildos and even a strap-on dildo- so she got by.
She often thought that it had been long enough for her to start dating again. She noticed men as she went about her daily activities. She knew which ones were single, and which ones were married but liked to act single. She had convinced herself at one time that she could never let a married man into her bedroom, and then she had convinced herself that a married man might be the best to let into her bedroom. There would be no pretenses of acting like a couple to ease into the sex. With a married man she could just take him to the bedroom and strip him naked and use his body to take care of her needs.
But she had never acted on those desires. So today with her own son was the first time she'd reached orgasm at someone else's hands in over ten years. Today was the first time in over ten years that she'd laid back and let someone else touch her and take her to that limit, and beyond the limit.
She felt ashamed of herself when it happened, when her hips were jerking and her pussy was convulsing in orgasmic pleasure. She still felt ashamed of herself. Why? Because she let her son take her over the top? She tried to convince herself it didn't matter that is was her son. Her body had reacted naturally to being stimulated. Her body, in particular her big clit, didn't know who or what was doing the stimulating... and didn't care. It just reacted.
But worse than the reaction in her pussy was the reaction in her mind. She had tried to not think about it, but now she couldn't stop thinking about it. As much as she had loved the feelings he was giving her, she wanted more. She wanted to feel his hard cock. She wanted it in her hand, in her mouth, in her pussy... anywhere he wanted to put it. She had wanted to feel his dick throb and spurt his creamy cum on her or in her.
She knew if he had pulled his dick out she would have acted like the slut of her younger days. At the time she wanted him to pull it out... now she was glad he hadn't.
As much as she tried to rationalize what had happened, she still felt ashamed. She still wondered how Paul, her only son, felt about it. She wondered if she would have the courage to bring it up and talk to him about it. And if she did, would he talk to her about it?
It was in the middle of these thoughts that Ellen realized something else. She needed to pee. And with every bump Paul hit she felt it even more.
She reached over and touched his arm to get his attention. He turned the radio off to listen to her.
"I'm really enjoying the ride," she told him. "But I'm starting to really need to use the restroom." She tried to say it loud enough for him to hear her, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear her. Paul looked at her. He pointed to his ear and shook his head.
"I need to use the restroom," she said a little louder, but still not much more than a loud whisper. He leaned closer to her, indicating he still hadn't heard her.
She leaned toward him. She put her left arm around his neck and pulled him to her. "I need to pee!" she said louder than she meant to. She let go of his neck and he sat back straight in the driver's seat and looked at her. He noticed she was squeezing her thighs together and knew he'd better try to hurry home.
By the time he pulled into their driveway a little faster than he should have Ellen had her legs crossed in the small car. Paul quickly set the brake and pushed the button on the garage door opener before he hurried around to open her door for her.
Ellen almost jumped out of the car. She was trying to run without moving her thighs. She held her knees together and moved her lower legs as fast as she could. Paul slammed the passenger door and followed her, watching how her ass moved and jiggled as she hurried to the bathroom in the house.
He got in front of her. He knew it wouldn't do any good for her to get to the bathroom if he wasn't there to pull her pants and panties down. He knelt beside the toilet, ready for her. He could see a growing wet spot in her pants reaching down her thighs.
Ellen didn't go to the toilet. She knew she couldn't wait for Paul to pull her pants down. Instead she headed straight for the walk-in shower. She managed to kick her shoes off before she stepped into the shower. She crossed her arms on the wall and leaned her forehead against them. She spread her feet apart. She finally relaxed and released the flow of pee into her panties and pants.
She felt the warm liquid soak her nylon panties. She felt the wet spot in her pants grow, reaching down to her ankles. She felt the hot fluid running down her legs and over her bare feet. She felt the warmth puddling around her feet.
Paul stayed on his knees behind her, watching her piss in her pants, watching the progress of the fluid down the legs of her pants. Some of it had filled her panties and soaked the rear of her pants. He didn't know why his dick was rock hard in his pants. He'd never seen a woman (or girl) pee before, and, to be honest, had never really thought about it. But looking at his sexy mom's ass while she wet her panties and pants was turning him on. He wanted to lean in and sniff her and lick her pants to taste the hot pee soaking them.
But he didn't. Instead he stood and got a fresh towel and a wash cloth out off of the decorative shelves beside the shower. He ran some hot water in the sink while he waited for her to finish.
Ellen was crying softly as the last dribbles slipped out into her already soaked panties. She remembered another time she had leaned against a shower wall and peed in her pants. That night she wasn't peeing in her panties because she rarely wore panties in her younger days. And that night she was doing it on purpose because her soon-to-be husband asked her to.
She remembered how he put his fingers under the hem of her short white shorts and touched her hair lined lips while she was peeing. She remembered that her big clit was engorged and swollen and when his finger touched it she felt an electric shock shoot through her body.
She remembered her clit throbbing and her pussy spasming and her hips jerking when he ran the backs of his hands up the insides of her thighs and pushed his face against her taut ass.
She wished Robert was there now to touch her while she peed. She wished Paulie knew how to touch her like that. She wished she could let Paulie touch her like that. But she knew she couldn't. So she sobbed quietly, some in embarrassment and some in frustration.
"Momma," Paul said softly. He reached out and caressed her shoulder and upper back. "It's okay, momma. Let me help you."
He didn't try to turn her around to face him. He knelt behind her, his knees in the wetness of her piss. He was glad he was wearing shorts. He reached around her hips to unclasp and unzip her slacks. He took the opportunity to sniff her and to brush his face across her piss-wet ass.
Ellen thought she felt Paul's face touch her wet ass, but she couldn't be sure if it was on purpose or just something that happened when he tried to unclasp her pants. She had to resist the urge to push her ass back against his face.
She stayed facing the shower wall, her forehead against her arms. She moved her feet together so her son could slide her wet panties and pants down her wet legs. When they were bunched around her ankles she stepped out of them. Paul slid the pants to the end of the shower.
Paul ran the warm wash cloth down her legs starting with the insides of her thighs. "Turn around now, momma," he said gently.
She turned from the wall to face her son. "I'm so sorry, Paulie," she said, her voice broken. "I needed to go when we were at Pam's, but I was afraid it would embarrass you to have to go to the bathroom with me. I thought I could make it home."
Paul rinsed the wash cloth in the hot water then used it on the front of her legs, again starting with her inner thighs. He could see the helmet shape of her clit poking through the thin curly hair at the top of her slit. 'It looks like a little dick!' he thought to himself as he washed the piss off of her legs.
"It's okay, momma," he told her. He tossed the wash cloth in the shower with his mother's wet clothes and reached for the soft towel. "Please don't cry. You can't help this. Soon your hands will be healed and this won't happen again," he consoled her as he dried her legs.
He started with the outside of her hips and ran the towel down to her ankles, then went back up her right leg to dry the inside of her thigh. Ellen spread her feet slightly to let him dry her legs. She stopped him when he started to rub the soft towel on her pussy.
"Paul, please don't," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry, momma," he said. He was still rubbing the towel softly on her pussy. "You're a little, um, swollen and I thought you might need to...."
"Even if I need to I want you to stop that," she said. "It's not right. I'm your mother. And, besides, there's nothing in it for you. It's not right."
"I don't mind that there's nothing in it for me," he said quietly. "I just like, uh, taking care of you."
"And you're very sweet for that," she said. "But please stop it now!" she said, her voice a little shrill. She knew if he didn't stop she wouldn't be able to stop him.
