Facial / Cream

Her words stopped. My heart seemed to as well. Five entire seconds went by -- one, two, three, four, five, all made with a perfectly frozen, fearful stare from her and an unbreakable shock from me.

Then she blinked and started talking again, fast. "You think it's weird, don't you. You think I've gone off the deep end, and maybe I have, and maybe I shouldn't have brought this up this way, but there's a science behind it that--"

"Mom," I said, loudly, suddenly able to use my words.

She stopped and looked at me as if she were an animal caught in the middle of the street with a massive vehicle bearing down on it.

"Mom, I heard you and Jessica talking about it. A lot." Now it was my turn to be awkwardly silent.

She started to register what exactly I had said and collapsed back into her chair.

"Oh." Her face went from shock pale to a hot pink.

We looked at each other for a while. The question was out. No conversation would ever be the same, she had just crossed a line that no mother that I had ever heard of had crossed with her son. It was completely silent in the dining room -- more deafening than any concert I had ever been to.

Mom had just asked me to cum on her face. She had asked me if she would follow through with what the blogs were advising -- with unloading my orgasm all over her mouth and cheeks and forehead so that she could wipe it more carefully onto herself.

I didn't want it to happen as a matter of principal, but my cock started to twitch, and it started to rise in my pants, painfully pressing against them. I didn't mean to start fantasizing but after that dream, I felt like I knew what it could be like.

To have mom's mouth near my cock.

Eventually, mom sighed. Her hands went up and covered her face. She started to speak very quietly. "I need a leg up, Mark."

It occurred to me that it must have taken an extreme amount of bravery to bring this up. So I listened, and let her continue, promising myself that no matter what I'd be respectful about it, even if my cock was painfully stiff and my mind was singularly focused on the idea of my mom's face covered in stickiness.

"I need a leg up, and I wouldn't be asking you this if I didn't really, really, really think about this first. I can't afford to risk getting a new job now. Not in this economy. If you do this for me, I'll get to look younger, and my chances at getting a promotion and a raise will go way, way up. It's like I qualify for it but can't seem to win out over girls that look half my age. If you can just... do this with me, then it's going to mean a lot more than paying off the house. It's going to mean sending you to college without putting you in student debt. It's going to mean paying off your car, removing your need to get a part time job, which would affect your grades and your chances of making it, and that is going to affect your entire career, your entire life.

And I didn't want to ask any other men to do it. I couldn't let myself be subjected to anyone I didn't trust and respect. And there was the whole... genetic material, needing to be similar for the best effects. I tried to fight it, but over and over, all I could figure was that I needed this to be you. Because I trust you to do it. It's for you, and because it's you. Even if you're my son. Especially because you're my son. Do you get it, honey?"

Mom's voice stopped, and it was very still in the room again.

She lifted her glass and drank it completely down. The only sound in our home was the gentle pulse of her white, delicate throat.

The glass made a subtle ring as she put it back down.

"It doesn't have to be... sexual." She was breathing deeply, trying to keep her composure. "We don't have to make it weird. It can be just like a procedure. Mark?"

I guessed it was my turn to talk.

My turn to choose.

Mom had obviously been agonizing over this. Obviously, this wasn't an easy request for her to make, and it wasn't an easy talk to have, especially when it's with the only son in the house. Obviously, she had to have made several leaps of morality and went through a lot of difficult thinking in order to figure out what was best for the family, and that last part was what stuck out the most.

It was for us.

My sweet, wonderful mom.

If anything, I was going to make the right choice for her, just because she was so great, and not because the hard on in my pants was practically begging for a chance at getting close to her.

Not because I literally started dreaming of it.

"Okay," I said, shattering the silence.

Mom looked up at me, frozen. Her breath was catching, her eyes were wide. "Okay," she repeated, quietly. "It means a lot to me, Mark. Let's do this now before we change our minds."

We sat there for what felt like another minute.

Mom was the first to stand. She started outlining a plan. An order to things. Without hesitating or letting the agreement sit any longer, she set everything up, treated it like it were just a couple moments of a chore, all to make it as much like a procedure as possible. She went back and forth, grabbing a couple towels, spreading them out in the center of the living room, making sure there was no furniture at all close by.

"First, we'll do this the right way. It needs to be directly... applied. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said, breathlessly.

"I'm going to kneel here, alright? And you can stand... there. And I'm just going to..." Mom swallowed. "I'm going to wait and you're going to start jerking off." I was in my assigned spot. So was she, her bare knees under her pencil skirt making contact with the towels she had just laid out. She looked to the side, her pretty face seeming breathless, trying desperately to make this as normal of a procedure as she could. "And then, when you're ready... to..." She blinked once, and her eyes flicked up to mine. "Then just tell me. I'll move a little closer. And then you'll..."

Mom's blue eyes stared deeply into mine. "You'll let it... you'll cum on my... on my face." Her eye contact broke and she looked down and off into the corner as she tried to regain her composure. "And then we'll be done."

She looked back toward me, but instead of looking at my face, she noticed the bulge in my pants. Her eyes widened. "Oh." Then she cleared her throat and looked back to the side. I stood there, awkwardly, trying to keep from running away with embarrassment. But mom carefully went back to focusing on the 'procedure.'

"Can you do it... fast?" Her eyes were trained on the trim between our living room and the kitchen. She really did seem to be trying to treat this as nonchalantly as possible. But of course, nothing could possibly be nonchalant about it.

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep cool.

"Okay." Mom nodded. "Pull down your pants. I'm going to wait here patiently. Just... let me know when it's time."

My heart was thumping at a rabbit's pace. My hands moved far more quickly to my waistband than they should have -- they pulled my underwear and jeans down at the same instant and I felt my cock flexing up, free. Mom's eyes involuntarily went from the trim to me, to my erection suddenly out in the open. She blinked a few times and her mouth opened, but she quickly regained her awareness, closed her mouth, and turned away, her pink cheeks going red.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I just haven't... Seen one. In a couple years."

A couple years? Was my cock the first one mom had seen since the divorce?

"And I didn't think you'd already be... erect."

Her eyes were wide.

I moved a little closer. I was only maybe a foot from her. All she would have needed to do to take me into her mouth was to lean forward, maybe to support herself on her hands. She was that close. I could almost feel the air from her breathing on me.

Mom was shifting on her knees, moving subtly back and forth with her hands pressed together along her neat, dark pencil skirt. Her red cheeks were bright, especially against the whiteness of her unbuttoned shirt, and she made an obvious effort not to look at me. Her head turned away for a second, her hair veiling her face, but I thought I could almost see her biting her lip, her chest heaving. And her hips subtly squirming.

I had to do it. It was for her. For us.

For me.

"Hurry up," her voice was high and small.

My own hand went up to my cock, grabbing it and starting to jerk it. Since the dream I hadn't touched myself -- I hadn't achieved that release that my body was going insane for, and so I was unbearably stiff, ready for it, already feeling the shift in my core and my groin.

Mom was making small breaths, little nervous ones. Her head turned gently toward me, and I could see her eyes, partially closed, as if she were afraid to look at my cock. But her eyes didn't leave it. They stayed. Mom closed her mouth and made a small, nervous swallow.

I started jerking faster. Getting closer. The moments drew out as I started breathing heavily. Mom's own breaths seeming to match them. Her chest was now heaving, the red on her face a bright scarlet.

She closed her eyes and put her head down, "I can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "We're doing this. We're doing this."

Then she put her head up. Her small mouth was determinedly set. "We're doing this," she whispered to herself. Then she turned her head toward me, her eyes now bravely fixed on the head of my cock.

She could now see the little shining dot of precum that was working its way from the head of my cock. Her eyes went wide again, as if she were unprepared for that.

And I was getting close.

"Do you like it?" Her voice suddenly broke in. Her eyes locked onto mine. I didn't expect her to ask something like this. I didn't expect her to ask something like this. For a split second something was different about the way she looked at me. Something was very unlike her -- it was almost defiant. Almost... heated. She gently bit at her lip. Only for that instant.

I couldn't stammer an answer back.

Just as quickly as I saw it, it went away. She seemed nervous again, shocked, if not a hint curious. But that glimpse must have done something for me, deep inside. I tried to hold back a groan as I felt it building.

Mom looked up at me. She could tell. Even after years since she had been with my dad she knew when a man was getting close.

Her lip was glistening from where she was biting it.

I started feeling something, coiling powerfully down there.

Mom's little mouth pursed shut in anticipation. Her eyes were fixated on the head of my cock.

I felt it building in my core. A breath that wouldn't breathe. A tension and strength that only intensified as my mom's pink lips pressed together, as her blue eyes looked apprehensively at the precum, now drooling from my cock head, following it trailing down.

It was going to happen.

"Mom," I said through a suppressed groan.

My mother looked up at me.

Then she leaned her face closer to my cock, gently closed her eyes, and carefully lifted her chin.

She was only inches from my cock.

Waiting for it.

And then it came -- an explosion in my core, and then white, shooting from the tip. Mom gasped through her nose, right as the first strand landed along the side of her mouth, as another shot forward and neatly settled to the left of the bridge of her nose, heavy and thick, a third gob landing on her chin, a few of its drops falling farther, onto her chest, between the buttons of her button up uniform. I shuddered and staggered back a step. A couple drops went down and into the towels. Mom was right to be prepared.

Mom was still on the ground, her mouth now barely open as she panted, shocked, trembling, her eyes slowly opening. She carefully stood, holding her hands just under her chin, ready to catch anything that dripped farther, and she started to walk out of the room. The drop of my cum that had landed on her chest glistened as she passed me and left to go more carefully apply it in the mirror.

I collapsed onto the couch, still leaking semen from the tip. I felt weak. Blown away.

As if none of this had actually happened.

But it did.

I had done it. I had actually jizzed all over my own mother. The whole universe felt like it was out of control now, completely without sense or reason, the afterglow sharp like an intense shock. I caught up on my breathing and tried to sit up straight.

Mom didn't come out of her room for an hour. I started to feel nervous and knocked. "Hey." There was no response. "Is it working?"

I heard mom carefully moving around in there. Then her voice emerged. Faint. Different. "I'm not sure yet."

She didn't come out until morning.

Chapter 6

The next day, I felt like I woke up on a different planet.

The memory of what happened that night was extreme. It sent my cock straight up immediately upon waking, and it was a fight to keep from masturbating.

I tried to see if I could check on mom's progress, but she seemed to move to a different room from me as I got ready for the day. So I hurried out, hoping to respect her privacy, and tried to get to school so that she'd have some more time to process things. Unfortunately, I left my phone on the kitchen counter and had to run back in. When I picked it up, I could hear mom's voice as she was speaking on her phone in the living room.

"Of course I was thorough. It was easier to... spread than I thought." Her voice was terse. "No, no change just yet. I mean, it was only one application."

She paused.

"How many times?"

She paused again.

"That's so many times... I don't know if I can do it that much. Of course I want the promotion."

Mom went quiet as I thought I heard Jessica's voice barely filtering through my mom's phone. "No," mom almost shouted, "it's none of your business who did it for me. I don't... no, seriously, I don't want to meet your friend. Bye, Jessica."

She hung up and made a frustrated groan.

I snuck out and carefully closed the front door.

All day at school, I couldn't wait to get home. Even my friends seemed to pick up on my excitement, but obviously I couldn't say a word as to why. I pretended I just wanted to do homework. As if that were believable.

When I got home, mom was waiting for me in the living room again. She was in another one of her corporate uniforms. Soft blues, a light red scarf. Almost as if she were a flight attendant or something.

New towels were on the same spot as last night.

"We should do this now," mom said, carefully, trying to keep her voice even. "And then... maybe again later tonight. I guess I need to do this a few times to start seeing effects." She swallowed. "So, pull down your pants."

I was ready. Based on how keen I was all day to get back, I was more than ready. My cock snapped upward once free from my waistband -- mom seemed to flinch when she saw how quickly it presented itself.

"Okay," she said, shaking, her cheeks already colored. "Go ahead."

She watched me closely as I stepped toward her, gripping my cock. I started to jerk. A minute went by. Mom took a deep breath, waiting with anticipation. Then another minute went by.

She looked up at me, hesitant. "Are you hurrying? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to focus. "I'm trying."

Mom started to think. "There has to be something we can do to make it a little easier. I need this at a really, high frequency. Maybe... maybe you can look at porn on your phone when you do it?"

I pulled it out and tried.

For a few minutes. Mom watched me concernedly as I gave it my best shot but ultimately, using porn was a little more of a 'curation' thing I needed to invest more time in to make it work.

It was weird to think about it, but in those moments, looking at my mom and jerking it was actually working better. But just seeing her in her uniform, interacting with her while she was nervously waiting, just kneeling patiently for me, I didn't know if that was going to be enough. Especially with how many times a day mom said she was going to need it.

"I'm..." I tried to word it in a nice way. "I don't think I can do it this way. I need..." I took my own deep breath. "I need a little more, mom."

She closed her mouth and waited patiently for me to explain.

"You could..." I tried to approach it delicately. "Maybe if you pulled down your shirt it would be easier for me?"

Mom stared at me as if I had just said something insensitive, or crazy, or both. "My shirt?"

I could tell mom was weighing her options. She could hold on to the shirt. I could tough it out. The whole thing would stay clinical and clean and even somewhat detached.

On the other hand, it was clearly going to get more difficult. It was already awkward. We had already done the whole, 'cumming on the face' thing that couples often took ages to work up to. It could drastically speed things up.

And improve the frequency that it happened.

I could tell mom made her decision by the way she suddenly sat up straight, exactly in the instant that her cheeks went bright. She started moving loose strands of hair from her face and carefully made even breaths.

Her fingers started to untie the knot of her red scarf. It pulled away and back and fell along her legs.

Then her hands went to the edges of her shirt.

White fingers started moving at little pearly buttons.

Then mom's hands started to move outward, pulling her button up shirt back, the blues giving way and revealing her gentle frame, and a clean, white bra that held her little breasts.

It fell from her shoulders, her white, slim arms stretching back. Then she brought them up and hugged herself, looking at me.

My cock twitched as she watched me, cautiously. Her eyes followed the head's movement. She looked back up at me, holding her breath.

She started to lower her arms again. Settling them down to her sides, carefully smoothing the towels with her hands. It was strange to think about her in this way, but she looked so... suburban. So soft, and pretty, so proper and ordered.

My hand drew itself to my shaft.

I started jerking, mentally preparing myself to cover her face once again with my cum, getting ready to do my duty as an obedient son.

But it still wasn't enough. I wanted more.

I made a choice in a blink -- if we had already gone this far, it wouldn't be too much of a leap to ask for just a little more, just what... couples do. Before the facial.

"Take it off," I croaked. Mom completely froze before me, her hands stopping their movement completely. I froze too, wondering if I was about to be disowned.

"What?" Mom asked.

"I need..." I tried to speak clearly but I was practically shaking. "If I'm going to be able to do this, I need more."

Mom opened her mouth and then closed it.

Obviously, what I wanted was a very big ask. She had taken off her shirt, it was true. She was now kneeling before me, her chest now exposed, her tight, flat tummy now visible, and most of all, she was choosing to be here, to stay here, even as we prepared for me to cum on her face for a second time.

And she obliged.

Mom closed her eyes, stretched straight, and carefully lifted her hands behind her. I watched, my mouth dry, as her delicate fingers worked at the hooks of her bra. The strap pulled back, and then free, and then she carefully drew her bra in front of her. As the padding slid away from her chest, her little breasts pushed out, only slightly down. They were still full, like apples, the nipples round and pale and puffy, an impossible cloud pink.

My cock surged, flexing without any encouragement. I couldn't believe it, as I'm certain mom couldn't believe it either. She seemed breathless as she let the bra drop from her hands, which then carefully folded on her lap.

She lifted her chin, as if presenting her body to me.

It turned me on like nothing ever had. My mother's soft, delicate breasts looked so white, the nipples so soft looking. Hidden from me and the rest of the world for eighteen years, now bared for me, and only for me.