Alan slept in that Saturday morning. When he finally woke up again, he shook off the doubts and worries his dream had highlighted, trying instead to focus on the immediate positives. The day's sexual possibilities seemed endless.
He went down to the kitchen for breakfast, but no one was around. He was more than a bit spoiled, in that he expected his mother to always cook for him. But then again, cooking for the family was a big part of her self-identity, and she got upset if anyone else cooked anything without her at least taking part. He went back upstairs to find her.
Susan was in her bedroom, wearing just a towel. Nonetheless, she said, "Come in."
Alan was surprised by her scanty garb, but not very much. It seemed that half the time he'd seen her around the house in the past couple of days, she was wearing nothing but a towel. Furthermore, this one was smaller than the rest: wrapped around her torso, it just managed to cover her nipples and her bush, and there was barely an inch to spare on either top or bottom.
She sat on the edge of her bed brushing her hair, seemingly not bothered by his presence despite her near nudity. However, her heart was racing fast as she contemplated helping him with his orgasm "problem." "Good morning! What is it, Tiger?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just feeling a bit hungry is all." His penis was engorging fast in his shorts.
She glanced at his crotch and noticed the emerging bulge there. "Let me help you with that. I'll cook you some nice pancakes." Actually, I really want to help him with his big, thick, spermy problem! But I can't! Just because Ron isn't at home right now, I'm still a married woman!
She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him. "Would you like that? Or would you prefer French toast and some fruit?"
"French toast with fruit on top sounds good."
She found the idea of breakfast startlingly arousing, because it reminded her of her wild wet dream from the day before. A large part of her mind wanted to make that dream world an immediate reality, but her more prudent side held back. "Okay. ... Um, before you go, Son, I have a question."
"Shoot." He tried to appear casual, but in fact he folded his hands together in front of his crotch to block the view of his raging, throbbing boner.
She was very frustrated at his hands being in the way, not to mention the fact he was wearing shorts in the first place. She could practically taste his cum on her tongue. Still, she was trying hard to not show or act on her lusty desire. "Tiger, I'm a bit concerned about your... you know. Reaching your daily target. I know how tortured you must be lately; Suzanne and I have been talking about it a lot. I'm concerned that without getting a lot of help, uh, manual help from others, your member may be getting, you know, uh, worn out a little."
"Yeah, you could say that." If his dick was stiff before, it was doubly so now.
"That's why I thought it would be a good idea to give you this." Susan stood up to get something, but as she stood, the towel fell completely away from her body. She grabbed it as it fell and pulled it back towards her.
He lurched forward to try to help with the towel, but as he did so his erection sprang out from under his shorts and bounced forward. It didn't just peek out of his shorts partly or a little bit; it came out completely and nearly carried his balls out with it.
She pulled the towel up to her chest, which effectively covered her crotch, but she just held it with one hand over her cleavage and left almost all of her tits still uncovered. She stared down in shock at his fully exposed manhood.
She thought, There it is! It looks soooo good! So tasty! There must be something wrong with me, because my desire for my son's penis is so strong! Too strong! I can't! I can't! But look at it. Mmmm! So thick and long and manly!
After a few long moments, he covered it with both hands. He was very embarrassed too, and his heart was beating wildly just like hers.
Susan continued to silently stare at his crotch even after his hands pretty much covered all of his hard-on. Her face was turning red with embarrassment, and she continued to show little concern for covering her nude body.
Time seemed to stand still. Nobody moved or said a word. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room.
Finally, he stuffed his boner back into his shorts. He didn't want to, but he felt strangely obliged to, out of politeness.
She continued to watch intently. She stared at his shorts even after his hard-on was put away, especially since he removed his hands.
"Um, sorry about that," he finally said.
She seemed to snap out of her reverie, and looked up into his eyes. "No, it's my fault. Never mind! It's nothing you and I haven't seen before, ha-ha."
The laughter was forced, so he made himself laugh back. But it helped to defuse the highly charged situation.
He noticed she still wasn't covering up her nipples with the towel. He strongly suspected that she was very aroused, tempted by the sight of his arousal. He wanted to encourage her to help him out, but he was shy about doing so. At least he managed to ask, "Do you remember the other day when I was in your room and you didn't even have a towel?"
She nodded. Without consciously realizing it, she rubbed her bare thighs together while reveling in the now pleasant and arousing memory. But she said, "Let's not even think about that, Tiger. Remember: that's in the past. Ancient history."
He nodded, though he wondered why she still held the towel with only one hand, doing a bad job of covering her nudity. He didn't really believe her "ancient history" line.
She found herself thinking, Why doesn't Ron's penis make me shiver and tingle all over, like the sight of my son's does?! He's in town, right now! I should give my husband a blowjob tonight. Today, even. That's what a good wife would do. But why does that thought not inspire me? In fact, it almost makes me feel... disloyal. Disgusted, even. Strange.
She said a bit nervously, "Anyway, I was about to give you something. Since I'm a bit indisposed, can you get it for me? It's a jar I've put in the drawer with all my bras." She turned sideways and pointed towards her clothes cabinet, which allowed him a great side view of her body. She didn't quite reveal all of her ass, but she certainly showed off her shapely hips and incredibly toned, long legs.
He reluctantly tore his eyes away and followed her outstretched arm that was pointing towards the cabinet. He walked over to the drawer where he knew she kept her underwear.
"That's the one," she said with a strange gleam in her eyes.
He opened the drawer she'd indicated and found a jar there. He picked it up and looked at the label. It read, "KY Jelly." Then he turned back towards her.
She still held the towel in such a way that he could see nearly all of her huge tits. "Tiger, you don't use any lubricant when you do your thing, so I'm concerned about, you know, damage. It'll be better if you use that."
He was genuinely doubtful. He'd masturbated a certain way for a long time, and wasn't keen on changing. "I don't know, Mom. This stuff looks really weird."
ραпdα Йᴏνê|(сòm) "It's not weird." She walked towards him until she stood right next to him, with the towel still precariously covering her pussy and little else. She held the jar with her free hand, so both of them now held it. She opened it and the lid came off easily; it was clear it had been opened already. "Look. It's cherry flavored. It feels good and it tastes really nice. Try it. You'll get used to it."
He inhaling deeply. He pretended he was sniffing the jar, but he was actually interested in her smell. He loved her natural aroma, plus the shampoo and perfume she favored. He sniffed again, and realized he could also smell her arousal. He asked, "How do you know what it tastes like? And why should I care about the taste?"
She blushed. "The taste is, uh, in case a nice young lady wants to help you out with her mouth. ... But please, let's not discuss this. This is very embarrassing, especially with the way I'm dressed. Or not dressed!" She coughed nervously. "It's a good thing your father is off playing golf."
He had totally forgotten about Ron. The mere mention of Ron freaked him out. He felt like a disloyal son, cheating on his own father. And even though she just said he was playing golf, he was filled with dread that they'd get caught.
Suddenly Alan wanted to be out of the room, and fast. He grabbed the jar with both hands and said, "Thanks, Mom. You're so sweet and thoughtful. I'll uh, I'll try this out later." He left the room, his head swimming as he pondered her conflicting signals.
When he left, Susan thought, Oh, poo! I was so close. Why didn't he ask me to try it out? That would have given me a perfectly legitimate reason to suck him off, saving him from the sin of Onan. But maybe it's for the best. Maybe it's a sign that I have to persevere and hold out until Ron is gone. Perhaps God is testing me. Ron IS my husband, after all. In theory, I should be thinking about sexually pleasing him. ... In theory.
Darn it!
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