Anna's Journal - A Son's Shame

Anna's Journal - A Drunken Son Comforted

I did not know if you would want to hear more. I am ashamed, yet at the same time I am amused at your insistence on my writing you back. I always was able to trust you. You surely knew I was going to tell you more right?

You know where I was. I was on the couch, Cody's cum still on my pajamas. I stared at it, not knowing whether to be sick to my stomach at what happened, ashamed, or something else yet.

One thing I did know, I had a son in his room, shocked sober and suddenly feeling even more humiliation then ever. Any alcohol in my system was now gone, but in its place was a terrible uncertainty for what I was supposed to do next.

I wish I could tell you I sat there and thought it out, but I don't think there is a series of events that I could really have planned out at that point. So I got up, checked the couch for any cum that may have spilled on it, and when satisfied there was none, I headed to Cody's room.

Do not wonder at my intentions. At this moment, I had none besides finding a way to calm him down. My previous inaction had created a bad situation, and as I stepped quietly to his room I hoped I would come up with a plan once I had a chance to sit with him again. Funny that I trusted my mothering instincts. I know reading this you probably roll your eyes at that idea of mothering instincts considering I just watched my son masturbate and did nothing but let him finish. I shake my head too.

His door wasn't locked and I did not knock. What just happened had pushed that social norm away. He lay on his bed, face down in the pillow. He wasn't crying, he lay still and I sensed his shame. When I sat beside him I felt his whole body tense on the bed.

"Cody?" He ignored me of course. When I tried to put my hand on his shoulder this time I felt him jerk away from my touch. If you could have read my mind at this moment you would realize how little I had thought out. I think I have made that clear. I don't think there is a parenting manual about what to do, and I was making things up as I went along. And by making things up, I mean I was doing nothing right.

I lay down beside him and tried to pull him over to me, but he lay there, still tense and angry. "Cody? Talk to me."

I repeated that a few times and finally he replied to me.

"What do I say at this point mom?" His tone was sullen, and my heart broke for the young man beside me.

"It was natural. You were drinking and I was kinda exposed." I tried to add a lightness to the conversation to minimize the tension. "Besides, what guy wouldn't like this rack?"

Sometimes words have consequences, and my tone caused Cody to turn towards me. His eyes dropped to my chest again. I suddenly realized I had not fixed my pajamas, and my breasts were still partially exposed. I moved to cover them and destroyed the moment. Cody's face shot beet red and he buried his head again.

"No no. What just happened? Its ok. Cody. I had them hanging out on you. That's my fault." It was my fault. I cursed myself for not thinking to close my pajamas.

"And its not my fault for staring at them? What the hell is wrong with me?" Again, I won't say all Cody said because that just adds things that don't really involve you. But I will say this. His final admittance to me, "What do I do when I want to look at you again? Like right now?"

This is where I took the step I hesitated to be clear about last time we wrote. Cody stared at me, and I did the most natural thing I could think of to do. I opened my pajamas back up again.

I hope I do not horrify you with that admission, but my only thought was that I could not let Cody feel the shame he was feeling. And my physical nature you know all too well, it took over.

"Look at me Cody." I exposed my chest to him, loosening one more button and letting him stare. I moved my eyes to his pants and saw the response. He was confused.

I smiled slightly, nodded, and pushed his hands towards his pants. "Its ok Cody, I want to watch you."

"I don't get..." His voice trailed off. He was confused, disoriented, but any shame he had felt was being washed away with increasing arousal.

"Shut up Cody. Look at me. I want to watch you masturbate Cody." He still seemed confused, and part of him rebelled against what his body was telling him to do. "Please."

And the please shattered any reluctance he may have had. He undid his jeans again and his cock jumped free. Cody grabbed himself and for a moment it looked like he was going to stop. "Please Cody. For mommy."

He began stroking, desperately this time. There was a lust as he stared at my chest, then into my eyes. I fed off it. I felt myself wanting to help him, and while touching him seemed too much, I knew my words would help.

"Cum for me Cody. Good boy. Cum for mommy Cody."

Reading this, it may seem silly to say that, but as he stroked that cock my words visibly excited him. Precum leaked from him as he furiously jacked off. He stared at my chest, but just as often looked me in the eyes. And when he did, I would tell him each time, "Cum for mommy Cody. Please cum."

Don't judge me please. Though by your quick reply I think you wanted to hear this anyway. But before I was not sure of how I felt watching my son stroke his cock. I did not know if I wanted him to come or pass out. This time, I wanted cum. When I asked him to cum for me, I meant it.

I wasn't aroused in the way you think. But I wanted to help him. And it was working. He began thrusting his hips frantically; he was close.

"Good boy Cody. Now cum. Its time to cum for mommy." He exploded.

His orgasm was thick, somehow more than just a half hour before. I was laying beside him, so this time it landed all over him. It was on his shirt and drops lay heavy in his pubic hair.

You know the way men are after they come. There is often a sense of awkwardness, and in some situations like this, even shame. I knew it and for once, I was prepared. As Cody began tensing up in confusion and shame again, I removed my shirt.

"What are you -"

I shushed him. I took my shirt and cleaned the semen off of his own shirt as best I could, then wiped it from his hair. I took the shirt and used it like a glove as I wiped the come that was still oozing from the tip.

"Never be ashamed Cody. I want to help you. I enjoyed this as much as you did. Don't turn this into something else. You came. It was good. I want you to do this for me again." Simple words, but they visibly calmed him and he half smiled.

"Well, thanks?"

"Love you son." And I headed back to my room, tossing my pajamas into the laundry and crawling into bed.