Washing Mommy
2,172 words
9-minute read
This story covers a trained caregiver son taking care of his Mother's health and care. He is in his twenties, and she is in her late forties. He finished his caretaker training at age twenty and, after working for a few years, began to assist his mom.
All are over eighteen.
Your hand pulled up over the tip of your cock, then slipped back down in a snug grip over the slimy pre-come oozing from the tip. Your dark, blood-engorged cock had the look of milk flowing down its length. You were so close to coming. The foreskin was pulled down and tight, which made the shiny head look fierce, eager, and cut.
To maintain your lust and a hard erection, you had been edging yourself for about an hour and fifty minutes. Afraid you had gone over the edge this last time, you were licking come from alternating hands in an attempt to distract yourself.
You had a leather strap snapped into a five-inch loop around your scrotum at the base of your cock.
You kept your scrotum and a circle of hair around your scrotum shaved so you wouldn't pinch your skin or pull pubic hair in the leather strap's snaps. With the restricted blood flow, your balls would swell and turn black and purple. You liked to strap your balls tight with the more macho leather. You had a rubber 'O' ring from a plumber's kit you use for a cock ring. Occasionally, you would hang a pound or more of solder from a tight-fit 'O' ring you took from the same plumber's kit or by wrapping the roll of solder tightly around Your balls.
When you jacked off, the weight of the solder slowed the rhythm of your stroke. The solder swung slower than your balls when strapped within the leather. As you reached the point of coming when you jacked off, you would collect the come to eat and wait. When your natural urge to not want to eat it and to want to sleep ended, you would lap at it like a pet at a water dish.
The slower weighted-down stroke was also more torturous because you had to use your brain and imagine something intense enough to get your balls to pump. Your most often-used masturbating fantasy was your Mommy. Your fastest was one you remembered doing beside her backyard swimming pool, doing sixty-nine after fucking her. You didn't know she had it all on her security cameras. When she played it for you, you didn't need to touch your cock while watching, as it flowed as though on auto-pilot.
One of Your favorite ways to jack off was to kneel on your lower legs, trapping and squeezing your balls below your thighs. Then jack your cock, sticking erect above your thighs.
You would bend over forward so that come would splatter all over your face and hopefully into your mouth.
Before you developed pecs, you were able to deep-throat yourself when you'd jacked off. You were flexible enough to auto-fellate yourself deep enough to feel your cock press against your throat.
Your ability had waned when you developed larger, denser core muscles.
The pain of the back of the leather strap scratching your scrotum until it pinched and scratched almost too much excited you. When you smothered your cock and scrotum with body lotion, the scratching was relieved, and the handling of yourself usually resulted in two fingers up your ass and your prostate getting massaged (you used your Mom's 8" dildo) as well as your ass getting lubed in and out with lotion.
'Mommy' is how you had again begun to think of her name a few nights ago when, while you were washing her off, she had taken your hand and placed it on her breast, repeatedly squeezing your fingers until you squeezed without her effort. It jarred a memory of nursing one breast and massaging the other.
Her drunken talking about you by name and your hearing clearly through the shared wall caused you to come when you lost your edging advantage. You were oozing a steady flow of come instead of the pulsing ejaculations you most commonly did. Your edging was overcome when she said she wanted you to sleep in her bed.
Nearly every night, you slathered yourself with body lotion from your feet to your waist. While slathering yourself you can vividly recall applying lotion to Mommy's thighs before she would go to bed every night. She was very obese, and consequently, the inside of her thighs were sweaty and usually covered with a raw and painful heat rash.
She would spread her legs wide; at first, she wore a pair of cheap cotton, nearly worn to transparency, hole-riddled panties covering her crotch. But, occasionally, when the vodka was consumed early in the day, she would remove her panties as you were approaching the bed or couch where she waited. You liked watching her pussy's lips pull apart to expose her vagina's depths when her panties slid down her thighs.
When she was displaying her pussy without panties, she would pull her knees up and spread her legs as wide as they could go. She was too fat to look up over the bulging rolls of her stomach and watch your hands, mouth, or cock working her arousal higher and higher.
One night, when the vodka had flowed early and steadily, Mommy called to you, "Son, tonight I need you to first wash me off with a warm washcloth. I didn't wipe after I peed last time, so I stink, I think."
You liked when she asked that because you anticipated you could play with her pussy and clitoris with the washcloth. You had learned to let the washcloth slip from your grip, and then your fingers and hand would touch her slime-covered labia. At first they would react in surprise as your fingers touched her, but after you did it three times in one encounter, you 'forgot' the washcloth altogether.
The next night, you said to her, "I am simply going to lick you clean, Mom."
"I think that is incest, but maybe not, son."
She talked on like you didn't need to consider her serious. "I am pissy from the day. I didn't wipe at work because there was no toilet paper."
"Mommy, I want to do this because your vagina is so sweet, I like you pissy."
That night, you knew you could return in a few minutes and do it again. Mom was in her bedroom on the other side of the wall, noisily masturbating and commenting drunkenly and louder than usual. You knew, after the sex earlier in the evening, that Mommy was aroused more than usual after the quicker-than-usual orgasm. You knew she was louder and speaking more understandably than most nights before this night.
You suspected she was indirectly advising you of her masturbating so you would go to her in her bed.
Mommy seemed fine for a while when Daddy was shot and killed at a convenience store about nine years earlier. However, after a few years, she'd found an agreeable numbness from drinking vodka and going to bed with a drink on the night table beside her bed. While becoming a nightly drunk, her name became Mom instead of Mommy. Neither of you noticed it until you began to eat her pussy as part of your washing her sore crotch and upper thighs each night.
