Edward's Ordeals Ch. 01

So begins the tale of Edward, a 19 year-old young man and the ordeals he endures from having a very small penis. Possible incestuous/Oedipal feelings are discussed but not acted upon in this first installment. To all of the "small" men out there who might have fantasized about their mothers learning about their most secret shame: this is for you. Enjoy!

"Oh my God. Oh my... God." It still took a moment for me to think to close the bathroom door that I had just opened after saying those words out loud. I had no idea that my 19 year-old son had just finished showering and was standing naked inside. Just barging in on him unexpectedly and violating his privacy wasn't the only problem, though. I had stared at his penis for at least three seconds as I stood there. I was still staring at his penis when I involuntarily uttered those words and swiftly closed the door.

I was staring at his penis; his very small, flaccid penis. Well, the glans of his penis anyway.

My first instinct was to turn and walk away as swiftly from the situation as possible. But I didn't. I stood there momentarily, wondering if I should say something more, something in the form of an apology. Then I heard the soft sound of him weeping coming from the other side of the door.

This time I knocked first. "Edward, may I come inside." After receiving no response I slowly opened the door once more. I saw him sitting on the closed seat of the toiled, his towel now wrapped around his waist. His hands were covering his face. I could tell it was of the brightest shade of crimson underneath.

I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, adjacent to the toilet where he sat. Water that remained from his shower immediately soaked through the seat of my Capri pants. I couldn't have cared less. I placed my hand softly on his bare shoulder in an attempt to reassure him.

"Edward, I'm so very sorry. I didn't mean to walk in on you while you are naked. It's OK."

"It's not," he replied, his voice muffled by his hands still held over his face, "It's really not."

"I promise that it's not that big of a deal. I've seen you naked before, you know. It's nothing to be -"

"You saw it. I saw you staring at it. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, and now you know..."

"Know what, Edward? What is it that I know?" I was rubbing his shoulder with my hand trying to comfort him.

"You know, Mom. You know how small my penis is now..." his voice trailed off.

He was right. My state of shock wasn't induced simply by seeing my own son naked. What I beheld with my eyes for that three seconds that seemed like they lasted forever was a very tiny, pink glans that was flush with the surface of his pelvis. I saw no visible shaft in-between. Had I not known he was 19, I would have thought it belonged to a boy half his age. The image was seared into my mind's eye, and I wished I could rid myself of it.

As his mother I did a terrible job protecting his feelings, not only by staring at it but also by making the accompanying exclamation I did. All I could think to do was to continue rubbing his shoulder reassuringly. He finally lowered his hands from his face, then just stared down at the floor before him. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped from his chin.

"I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be small most of the time, sweetie," I lied. The truth was that I could tell that it was abnormally small for a young man his age. I tried to comfort him nevertheless.

"No, Mom. It's always small like this."

"Even while you're..." I found that I couldn't finish my own sentence out of my own sheer embarrassment.

"Erect?" He completed my sentence for me and then paused making for a very awkward silence, and then whispered, "Yes. I mean, it's a little larger and longer, but not much."

My heart sank; it actually broke for him. I felt even more guilty. If this was some kind of medical condition, perhaps his father and I could get him help. Perhaps we should have gotten help much earlier. But how would I have ever known?

Then, in my attempt to break the next awkward silence between us I spoke before really thinking about what I was saying.

"Do you grow hair down there?" Did I really say that out loud?

"Yes," he responded immediately, "A lot, actually. But I, um, shave it off. That's why it looks that way."

"Why?" Again, why did I ask such a stupid question?

"The hair really gets in the way when I pee, because my penis is not long enough to hold and aim at the toilet. I usually sit down to pee anyway."

"I see," I said without really any idea of what to say next. I looked down at his lap. His towel was still wrapped around his waist as he sat and sufficiently obscuring it from my view.

To tell you the truth I was not using my best judgment at all. My maternal instincts should have overridden any foolish thoughts that I had. I should have walked away from the door after closing it and let him deal with the trauma of having been seen. I should have and then never mentioned it afterward, perhaps pretend that it never occurred.

That's not what happened at all.

As I sat next to him, still staring at his towel-covered lap, my curiosity overwhelmed me. I slowly reached down and touched the edges of the towel where they met. He looked up at me, confused. I tried to give him the most loving expression with my face that I could make as I attempted to part the edges of the towel.

"Let me see, sweetie," I whispered as I began to pull the towel apart to reveal him once again.

"Mom, no. Please..." he responded. His hands moved to stop my own.

"Let me see it. Trust me. It's OK." He didn't move his hands away, but he gave no resistance when I took them into my own, moved them, and then slowly opened up the towel to expose his lap. He closed his eyes in humiliation knowing exactly what I would see when I did.

He had an erection. My eyes involuntarily widened upon seeing it.

It truly was small. His pink glans was slightly larger than it was in its flaccid state but perfectly shaped. Visible to me was perhaps two inches of shaft below it. The entire thing was no thicker than my own feminine thumb.

As small as it was, as humiliated as he may have been by me looking at it, I found it to be beautiful to behold, perhaps even majestic in its diminutive nature. In a strange and maternal way I fell in love with it, because it was his, my adult son's tiny little penis.

Suddenly as if reacting to my gaze it throbbed. A clear bead of his syrupy precum slowly emerged at the tip. I licked my lips involuntarily.

"Edward, may I ask you a question? Why is your penis erect? Is it because I'm looking at it?"

"I think I want to die..." he murmured.

"You have no reason to be embarrassed, sweetie. You never have to be embarrassed with me. Never. But will you tell me, please? Please tell me why it's erect right now."

He lowered his hands from his face once again. While staring at the floor below, he began, "I've always been mortified at the thought of any girl ever seeing it. I've always known that they would laugh at how small it is. My biggest fear, though, has always been that you might see it. I never wanted you to see how small it is. But..."

"But?" I prompted.

"For some reason, even though I've always been afraid for you to see it, now that you have I'm, um, I'm..." his words trailed off.

"Aroused?" I asked.

He looked up at me at that moment and into my eyes. "Yes, " he whispered, "Please don't hate me for it. Please, Mom." His tears fell freely.

"I could never hate you, Edward. I could never hold something that you have no control against you. I promise," I reassured him and smiled tenderly.

"It's my biggest secret. I've never shared it with anyone else before. I've never even let any of my guy friends see me naked because of it. You're the only one that knows. My mom is the only one who knows how tiny my penis is." His voice cracked with each word.

"I'm sorry. It's not like you really had a choice with me walking in unannounced on you."

"I know, but I would have never been brave enough to show you otherwise."

"Wait," I paused a moment and had to process what he had just said to me. Did he really mean to say what I heard? "Edward, are you telling me that you've wanted to show it to me before this happened?"

"Yes, Mom..."

"You've... fantasized about me seeing it?"

"I've fantasized about you seeing it, and seeing how small it is. I can't explain it. I know it sounds horrible and I'm probably a horrible son for it -"

"No, Edward," I interrupted and placed my hand on his chest, "It's OK. I understand, more than you realize. I don't think this is the time for me to explain to you why, but I do." I saw it throb again in my peripheral vision. It was weeping sweet precum continuously. "Edward, I want you to know something. I think your little penis is beautiful. It's the most beautiful little penis I've ever seen, because it's yours, because I made it along with you inside of me."

Upon hearing my words his eyes suddenly became wide as if in surprise. "Oh no. No. Please..." he exclaimed as he moved both of his hands immediately to cover his lap. "No, no, uh... uh..." His eyes tightly closed, his mouth opened slightly, and he stopped speaking.

Suddenly my nostrils were assailed by the smell of young, masculine musk along with the a smell similar to bleach. I looked down at his lap, but his hands were now obscuring his erection completely from my eyes.

I knew what was happening, though. I was a connoisseur of the substance that was causing the new smell in the room.

My son was ejaculating. He was ejaculating underneath his hands that were obstructing my view.

He was ejaculating because of me.

Without thinking I reached out to embrace him. I said the first thing that came to my mind, "It's OK. Let it all out. Let it all out for me. It's OK. Good boy. You're my good little boy. Show mommy how much sperm your little penis can make." I rubbed his chest and shoulder throughout his climax, whispering those words from my lips, until it culminated about 15 seconds later. The smell of his cum in the small enclosed room was almost overwhelming.

Then my own guilt hit me like a sledgehammer. What have I done? What did I just say to my own son?

He sat motionless, obviously humiliated. I reached over and drew a length of toiled paper from the roll. "Let me help you clean up," I whispered as I moved his hands away from his lap, my persistence overcoming his attempt to resist. He then realized that I was aware that he had climaxed.

"I'm so embarrassed. I'm so embarrassed..." he whispered repeatedly.

His little penis was once again flaccid. His pearlescent white seed, quite copious in its amount, had all pooled between his legs. The sight of it was even more intoxicating to me than its smell.

My pussy tingled. What was wrong with me?

I pressed the toiled paper between his legs to soak up his cum while wiping his legs, glans, and hairless scrotum. I could fell the warm wetness of it soak through to my fingers. A tiny bead of his cum emerged from his urethra, the remnants of his sexual release. I took the tissue and delicately wiped it from the tip of his little glans.

Gently urging him to stand up, I lifted the lid of the toiled and tossed the semen-filled tissue inside. I flushed the toilet while lowering the lid once more. As he stood there his tiny flaccid penis was now level with my eyes. That's when I noticed how small his scrotum was. His testicles were clearly small as well.

"I'm sorry. I can't believe that happened. I'm so humiliated -"

"Don't be. It's OK. Actually, it was really... um..."

"What, Mom?"

"Erotic," I whispered my answer. I was now the one closing my eyes in embarrassment at the sound of my own words. When I opened them once again to look at him his eyes were once again wide, but now with surprise. Or was it wonder?

"Really?"

"Yeah, really Edward. A woman usually can't help but be aroused by the sight and smell of a man's semen." I relented.

"You really enjoyed seeing that?"

"Probably just as much as you enjoyed showing it to me." Kill me now. I can't believe I just admitted that to him.

"Please don't tell dad I did this. Please -"

"Your father will never know about this. I promise."

"Mom, can I ask you a question?" he sat back down on the seat of the closed toilet. He was no longer attempting to cover his penis. It had once again become flaccid and returned to its original tiny size. His pink little glans seemed to be looking upward toward the ceiling.

He was enjoying allowing me to see it as much as I was enjoying being able to see it.

"Of course, sweetie. What would you like to know?"

"Dad's really big, isn't he? I mean, he has a really big penis..."

My jaw about hit the floor upon hearing his question. "What... why... why would you ask that?" I whispered in response as if someone could hear us. No one else was in the house.

"I've never seen him naked, but I've seen the outline of it through his sweat pants sometimes, or when he wears shorts that are a too tight."

Why would my son want to know how large his father's penis is? Why would he want me to confirm that it's large?

"Edward..." my voice trailed off, unable to think of exactly what to say.

"He is, isn't he? He has to be, because of the sounds you make at night and the words you sometimes say to him when..."

I froze. I was now really in shock. "You listen to us make love?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, but yes."

"And you... enjoy listening to us?"

"More than you can possibly imagine, Mom. Mostly, I enjoy listening to you..."

"I see." I was trying to process what he was saying and, more importantly, what it meant. "May I ask why you enjoy listening to me?" Why did I ask that? Why?

"Because I'll never hear a woman make those same sounds with me, or say the same things that you say to dad."

My pussy wasn't just tingling. I was wet. Extremely wet. I felt hot, flushed, bothered.

"What things have you heard me say, Edward?"

"I can't say them to you, mom. You'll just hate me even more -"

"Edward," I interrupted him once again, "I do not hate you, nor will I ever hate you. I just want to know... I want to know what I've said that you... that you enjoyed hearing me say the most."

"It's embarrassing."

"Tell me. Please? I really want to know."

"It's when you tell him that, um, you love sucking his big fat cock. When you tell him you love tasting and swallowing his cum. I'm sorry..." His hands went to his face one again to cover them in his embarrassment.

Then, in a moment of both lust and poor decision making I reached up and removed his hands from his face. I lifted his chin with my finger and looked into his eyes. I whispered, "Yes, Edward, your father has a very, very large cock. And yes, Edward, your father's cum is very, very delicious."

I happened to look down at his tiny penis at that moment. I noticed that it was hard again. It was weeping its precum profusely for me once more. Nothing more happened that night.

...and that's when everything changed between Edward and me.