Helping Mom

There was still no answer from inside the room. She walked back to her room and lay down on the bed, pulling the sheet over her half nude body. She could see Marks door from there, but it was at least fifteen minutes before he came out and turned the shower off. Then turning out the light, he retired again to his room.

She awoke next morning feeling much better. Her hands, though still sore and blistered, didn't hurt as much as they first had. She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to think what to do first, before rising, walking to the bathroom, and looking at herself in the mirror. She looked a mess. Her hair was disheveled, as it was every morning, and there were large stains on the thin silk gown she wore. Marks cum, she thought, smiling. Her left breast was completely uncovered, naked to the gaze of any wanting to look at it. She smiled, self-consciously, "It sure doesn't cover up much, but he picked it out." She turned as Mark came through the door.

He stood there, legs spread, naked, his cock stiff and thick, slapping at his belly every so often.

"Mark! What are you doing," she gasped, raising her bandaged hands in front of her breasts. "You're naked!"

"I've come to help you with your shower this morning. You do want to have a shower, don't you? It's hard to shower with your clothes on. Stick out your hands."

For the first time she noticed the plastic baggies and the roll of duct tape he held. She had a hard time pulling her eyes away from his pulsating manhood. It was big. Bigger than his father’s, she was sure. She extended her hands toward him and he stepped closer to cover her bandaged hands with the bags, then secured the bags with tape, so no water could reach the bandages. He looked up at her as he finished.

"That should do it." Smiling his old smile at her, although there seemed to be a different glint in his eyes. "Now for the gown." He stepped another step closer, reaching behind her neck for the strings that held the wisp of a gown up. When he untied them, he held them up in between them, then let them drop. The gown settled around her ankles in a silky pile. He stepped a little closer, put his hands on her shoulders, and leaned forward to give her a kiss.

Her nipples grazed his chest as he moved, and she could feel the head of his cock probing the curly bush between her legs. He stepped back.

"Good morning Mom, ready for that shower now?" The bold grin on his face and the twinkle in his eye belying his innocent expression. He led her to the bathroom, reached in and turned the water on, adjusting it for both heat and spray.

"I guess," she stammered, shakily, "you sure you want to do this."

"Why sure," he said, "I wouldn't miss this for the world. It might even be better than going on a hunting trip."

He helped her into the shower, then slid the door shut behind them. She stood facing the shower-head, her hands against the wall, trying to keep the bandages dry. He was behind her, with washcloth and soap, ready to start scrubbing.

"Where should I start?" he asked.

"My arms, I guess," she stammered, "just wash me like you do yourself."

He rubbed soap on the cloth, then began washing her arms. It was awkward and difficult trying to use the washcloth, so he soaped his hands and washed her. Her arms, her shoulders, her side and back, and when he had washed her with soap, he turned her around to rinse the soap off. He pressed tight against her, his hands moving over her back and shoulders, rinsing away the soap. His cock pressed tight against her tummy, her breasts squashed tightly against his chest. His hands reached down to cup her buttocks and he held her tightly. Her arms were around his neck, pressing her-self even closer to him.

"Ohhh, Mark..." she barely breathed.

"Shhhh," he whispered, "turn around again and I'll do the front."

He stepped back and she turned, once again facing the wall and the pulsating water shooting from the showerhead. He reached around her, a bar of soap in one hand, rubbing with the other, and began washing her tummy, slowly working upward, till he was stroking, massaging, washing each breast, again and again. She pressed back into him, feeling his hard prick slide between her willing buttocks.

"Ohhh baby," she moaned softly, "you're making mama feel so good." Her ass twisted back against him, feeling the hardness of him. He stepped away.

"I'll do your legs and bottom now," he said quietly, dropping to his knees behind her. Again he took the soap in one hand and rubbing with the other, washed her legs, starting at the ankle, up over the shapely calves, and higher still the creamy soft thighs, until his hand was rubbing against the soft hair that covered that juncture between.

"Raise your leg up on the edge of the tub, Mom, and lean forward a bit. It'll make it easier to clean your butt."

She quickly did as he asked, watching down between her legs at his pulsating cock. She watched as he rubbed the soap over his hands, creating a huge pile of suds, then let out a small gasp as his hands made their way to her buttocks, invading the crease between them, rubbing over the exposed anus. He rubbed vigorously, paying special attention to the little rosebud staring him in the eye. She watched as he re-soaped his hands, then felt his finger press softly against her anus. He pushed till the finger was imbedded to the first knuckle.

"Ohhhh...Mark," she wailed, "what are you doing to me?"

"Just making sure your butts clean, Mom," he answered, pushing the finger in to the second knuckle. She made a soft grunt. He withdrew and reinserted the finger several times, noticing that the grip her sphincter had on his finger was loosening at each insertion. He bent down and looked up at her, between her legs, smiling at her parted lips and half closed eyes.

"You like that, Mom," he asked softly.

"Mmmm...you’re getting mommy nice and clean. Push in a little farther, could you?"

He shoved his finger into her asshole as far as he could get it, and was rewarded with a tiny cry. He looked up at her again, noticing how her tits bounced as he drove his finger deep into her again and again. Her breath was coming in catchy little gasps, and her ass pressed back against his hand at each thrust. Suddenly he pulled his finger out. A small disappointed moan escaped from between her lips.

“Ohhhh...baby...are you finished cleaning mommy."

"Not quite," he said, rubbing his soapy hands over the open lips of her pussy, "gotta wash your pussy. You wouldn't want a dirty pussy, would you?"

His hands were busy soaping the hair surrounding her pussy. She gasped as he spread the lips, and slid two fingers inside her.

"Ohhhh honey, clean mommy's pussy real good." She moaned as his thumb found her clit, rubbing the tender nubbin softly. His fingers were sliding deeply into her, feeling the hot, wet, stickiness of her tunnel, feeling the clasping, sucking grip it had on his fingers.

Her back suddenly arched, she threw back her head, letting the water hit her full in the face, a wracking cry came from her throat as her knees buckled and she knelt in the tub. He put his arms around her, letting her lean against him as he gently stroked her nipples. They sat there for minutes, the water beating down on them, until finally he spoke.

"You okay, Mom? You want me to wash your hair for you?"

She smiled weakly at him, looking back over her shoulder, "You may as well, you've washed everything else. You made mommy be awfully naughty."

"Not naughty. Nice." he corrected, smiling down at her. "Switch places with me and I'll turn off the water. We'll use the portable shower head to wash your hair." He stepped over her as she scooted back. "Get up on your knees. It'll make your hair easier to reach."

He turned to get the shampoo and the shower nozzle as she got to her knees. When he turned back around, his cock was only inches from her face.

"Oops," he said, grinning down at her upturned face, "maybe that wasn't so good an idea."

"You're just fine," she said, smiling back at him, "it may even have hidden benefits."

He used the shower nozzle to wet her hair, even though it was soaked already, then poured shampoo on it, piling her hair high on her head, working the shampoo through it, then rinsed it all out, running his fingers through her hair to make sure it was rinsed clean. He leaned forward, trying to reach the hair that was now hanging down her back, and his cock pressed softly against her lips.

She parted her lips, letting the head slide barely inside, her tongue flicked over the end, tasting the precum that dripped from the end. She felt his hands on the back of her head, and heard the gasp that escaped from his lips. He drew her toward him, pushing a little farther into her mouth, then released her. Her head came forward, engulfing more of his throbbing manhood. Then slowly, with lips pursed, she withdrew, her tongue playing with the slit in the head of his prick. She looked up at him, running her tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock, her eyes pleading for understanding. His hips started pumping, feeding cock to the parted lips that begged for it. He stiffened muscles tense, his scrotum tightening, and then the eruption. Spurt after spurt of cum filled her mouth. She choked, then swallowed, some trickled from the corners of her mouth. She swallowed again. Mark sat on the edge of the tub, his mother's head on his knees, his hand gently stroking her hair.

Mark stood up, his shrinking member dangling between his legs. He reached down and pulled his mother to her feet. Smiled at her and helped her out of the tub.

"Didn't get much water on your bandages, did you?" he asked, reaching for a towel.

"I don't think so," she replied, lifting her arms as he wiped them. It lifted her breasts to a prominent position and he quickly lowered his head and took a nipple between his teeth.

"Ohhh Mark, baby," she murmured, "we can't just keep this up. We've already done way more than is proper. It's not right, what we've been doing. We have to stop."

"Okay Mom," he said, raising his head for a moment from her tit, his finger worming its way inside her still gushy pussy, "though I don't see what's so wrong with it. Don't you like me to do this to you." He lightly bit her nipple and pushed his finger in as far as he could get it.

"Uhhhggg," she gasped, laying her bandaged hand across his shoulders, "damn you. You know I do. But it's still not right."

He straightened up, smiled at her, slid the finger he'd had in her pussy into his mouth and sucked for a moment. "Mmmmm," he said, grinning.

"Damn you," she laughed, "get me something to wear that I might at least step outside in."

In a moment he returned with a light cotton sun dress. It was sleeveless and shoulderless, but at least it came up to her shoulder blades in back and fit tightly across the top of her chest. It had straps that buttoned over each shoulder and the skirt came almost to her knees.

"That's good," she said, "though I still feel naked without panties."

"Good," he answered, chuckling, "that's just how I want you to feel. And," he added, "it's how I like to feel you."

"Ohhh," she shouted, in mock anger, "you're incorrigible."

"No I'm not," he laughed, "just always horny."

"That's what I meant," she giggled. "You must get it from me."

He slipped on a pair of sweat pants and they walked to the kitchen.

"What do you want, Mom, breakfast or lunch? It's almost 10:30."

"Wow," she looked at him in amazement, "I didn't think we'd been up there that long."

"Time flies when you're having fun." He laughed out loud. Then looking fondly at her, "I'm sure glad I didn't go hunting with Dad and John. If I had there wouldn't have been anyone to help you."

"And I'm glad you were here to help. I don't know what I'd have done without you. I've never felt cleaner." She smiled at him. "Let's have brunch. Some scrambled eggs, toast and I've got some cut up melon in the fridge. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great to me." He responded, getting up to prepare the meal.

She lounged on the couch, watching soaps she like while he prepared the meal. He helped her eat, then cleaned up the mess. They watched TV together till mid-afternoon, when Mark turned to her. "Want some of the pizza left over from last night," he asked, "I put it in the fridge."

"Yeah," she said, "that sounds good. Put it in the micro-wave and heat it up. Bring in that bottle of wine I've got in the fridge too. That'll help chase it down."

He heated the pizza and brought in the wine, bringing two glasses, and set them on the coffee table beside them. They sat in silence, eating pizza and sipping on the wine, watching an old movie. After the movie was over, Mark looked over at her.

"What now?" he asked.

"Whatever you want to watch is okay with me. You watched the movie I wanted to. Now it's your turn."

"Where's the remote? I know it's around here someplace." He looked for it for a while, finally finding it under the cushion of the recliner. He returned to his place on the couch, beside her, but before sitting down, turned to her and asked, "Anything you want me to get you before I sit down?" She shook her head no, and he went on. "Do you mind if I take off these sweats, Mom, they bind up on me something awful. Makes my legs go to sleep."

She looked up at him quizzically. "No I don't mind. I guess we've seen about all there is to see of each other. Fill my glass before you sit down, would you."

He filled her glass, and his own, then catching his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats, pushed them to the floor. He kicked out of them, his cock bouncing around as he did, then set down beside her, his semi-rigid cock lying across his leg.

She looked over at him, at the lovely piece of meat slowly flexing on his leg, and a shiver ran up her spine. She leaned forward for her glass, trying to hold it with her two bandaged hands. She took a long sip, then another, and finally a large swallow. She set the glass back on the table and again looked at Mark. He was fumbling with the remote, trying to find the movie channel he wanted. She leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes, feeling the wine send sudden warmth through her body. The next thing she heard was the sound of heavy breathing, of moaning. She looked over at Mark. He was staring at the TV, his gaze locked onto something that must be interesting. She looked at the screen. Her jaw dropped. She let out a big gasp.

"Mark! What are you watching? You've turned to the adult channels."

Indeed he had, for there before her on the screen were two men and a woman, all naked. The woman was sucking on one man's cock, while the other fucked her doggy style. The woman's tits bounced with each thrust, her moans mingled with the men’s grunts.

Mark turned toward her, a wicked little grin playing over his lips. "You said you'd watch anything I wanted to. This is a lot more interesting than your soaps."

Her eyes went from the TV screen to him, watching the effect the movie was having on his cock, which was now almost at attention. She reached for the glass of wine again, again holding the slippery glass between her two bandaged hands. She took a big swallow, then another, and was lifting it for a third gulp when the glass slipped from her hands, landing squarely on her chest, emptying its contents down the front of her dress.

"Ohhh, shit." she exclaimed.

Mark looked over, then jumped to help her. He picked up the glass and put it on the table, then ran for a towel to wipe up the wine. She watched as he ran, his cock sticking out straight in front of him, his balls bouncing slightly in their sack. She shivered, then glanced back at the TV screen just in time for both men to pull out and spurt their load over the woman's face and back. By the time Mark got back, the screen was black, with just the credits running.

"Here, let me help you wipe that up," Mark said, leaning over her with a towel, trying to blot the wine from her dress. It was hopeless. He stepped back a little, looking down at her.

"What do you want me to do?"

She sat there for a long minute, her thoughts in turmoil, then softly shaking her head, decided to be just as open as he was trying to be.

"Ohhh shit! Help me off with this damn dress. I guess I can sit here and watch dirty movies just as naked as you." She swung her legs to the floor, he caught hold of her arms at the elbows and pulled her to her feet. She stood there swaying slightly, before looking at him.

"Well, don't just stand there," she said, with a little lopsided grin, "get me out of this wet thing."

He rushed to her side and quickly unbuttoned the straps, then reaching behind her, pulled the zipper to below her waist. The dress fell in a puddle around her ankles. She was still wet with the wine and he picked up the towel and wiped it away, spending more time on many vital spots than was really necessary. He helped her sit back on the couch, then took his place beside her. He looked at the blank screen on the TV. "What happened?" he asked.

"Just what you'd imagine. One guy blew his load all over her face. The other guy pulled out and shot his wad all over her back. Just the run of the mill smut."

He looked at her in amazement, for he'd never heard her talk this way before. Course they'd never been sitting naked on the couch together before either, unless you counted last night, and then she wasn't naked, just almost. He reached out and picked up her glass, turning toward her he asked.

"Want me to refill this for you?"

"Why sir," she grinned. "Are you trying to get me drunk."

He laughed, "No, but it's not a bad idea. Another movie should be starting in just a few minutes."

"Maybe I'd better have another drink." She reached out for the bottle, "I think I'll put a nipple on the wine jug and drink right from the bottle." Raising the bottle she took two or three large swallows, he reached out to steady the bottle, spilling a little onto her breasts.

"I'll just use these nipples, if it's okay with you." he said, bending to lick the wine from her breasts, grazing her nipples with his teeth, letting his tongue flick across the hard little pebble raising from the tips of those lovely globes.

"Oh, oh," she said, "movies starting. He sat up and she leaned against him, her arm laying along his leg, rubbing against the stiffness of his prick. "Damn these bandages. Can't get a hold of anything. If they weren't there I'd sure have me a handful." She grinned up at him.

"Might as well get my self a handful then," he said, wrapping his arm behind her as she lay her head on his shoulder, and reaching under her arm, cupped one of those lovely globes. His thumb flicked at the nipple, sending shivers down her back. She sighed contentedly.

"What's this movie going to be about?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"Beats me," he replied, "probably just some love triangle or another."

"Or who was fucking whose wife while her husband fucked the maid."

He looked at her in surprise, for he'd never heard her talk this way before. The wine was having a liberating effect on her. Just then the movie started. It had a great title. Love in the Afternoon or something like that. She giggled and snuggled closer to him. The first scene was of a couple fucking in the shower. The man had the woman bent over in the tub, very like he'd had Mom this morning, except the guy was really throwing the meat to the girl. He looked down at her just as she glanced up at him.

"It would have been so simple," he said, smiling down into her eyes, "we'll have to try that in the morning." She said nothing, but didn't pull away. The scene lasted for a long time and he could tell she was getting a little turned on.

Marcy looked up at Mark just as he lowered his head. His lips found hers in a soft, tender kiss. He looked into her eyes, then found her lips again, this time her lips parted, her tongue probed deep into his mouth, caressing, searching. He broke away reluctantly, just in time to see the girl in the movie’s head drop into the guy's lap, take his soft cock in her mouth, and begin sucking.