Special Batter

Her expression almost did not change but for the slightest softening around her eyes and the barest of upturn around her mouth which I interpreted as intrigue. She said, "You know me... I'm always up for something... special..."

As she stirred the batter, I took a step toward her. She kept stirring. I took another step and then was standing next to her. I think I said "Sounds good" or something like that. Hard to remember. I felt like all of my blood had rushed to my head, although clearly some of it was elsewhere as I could feel an actual erection building in my shorts.

Mom stirred, looking at me from only two feet away. I stood there. In retrospect that would have been the moment to laugh, give her a hug and walk away. But what I did was put my thumbs inside the top edges of my shorts. She looked down at my movement, then looked back up into my eyes. I looked for indication that she was alarmed, but she seemed perfectly calm. She stirred the batter.

I slowly lowered my shorts about two inches. Not enough to see more than my pubic hair. Mom glanced down, back up to my eyes and stirred.

I lowered my shorts another two inches or so. That was enough to expose part of my shaft, most of it still hidden in the shorts. From what was exposed, it was clearly in full arousal, starting to tent the shorts.

I was not sure I could go further. I took my right hand out and let it drop to my side, the left hand still keeping my shorts from dropping.

Mom stopped stirring. In my head I was imagining all of the scenarios that could play out. With her left (non-stirring) hand, mom slowly reached down. She held it in front of me, no more than an inch away. My dick twitched visible. I think it startled her, as her hand jerked back slightly. Both of us were looking down, me at her hand and she at my shorts. She moved her hand up and inside my shorts. Before I had time to react, her hand was inside, gently gripping me. I started to get really hard, extending straighter and pushing into her hand in the process. She held me more firmly in her grip, as if taking in the feeling. I just stood there.

A few times she loosened her grip only to re-grip again. She did that a few times over the course of a minute or two. My first move in several minutes was then to use my left hand to push my shorts down, freeing my dick to spring up to its fullness. Mom never said a word. She held it in her hand, looking at it in fascination. After a bit, she set the spoon into the bowl and moved her right hand down to grip me. She gave me long caresses, her hand running my length up and down. The only sound was our breathing.

I was as hard as I have ever been in my life. She put her hand underneath me, palm up and touching my dick, letting it rest on her hand. Then she slid it back and forth underneath, as if trying to experience every sensation of the touch. Then back to a gentle grip and her first attempt to begin slowly jerking me off.

My dick was dry but for pre-cum leaking out of the tip. She took a dab of that on her finger and tried to use it as lubrication. It helped, but still a bit dry for what she was trying to do. She looked up into my eyes, I looked up into hers from two feet away. She took her hand off my dick, put it to her mouth and gave her palm a big, slow lick. I twitched at the sight. She began to lower her hand back down, then paused for a moment and brought it back up to her mouth. Her index finger that had dabbed my pre-cum went into her mouth and she sucked silently on it for a few seconds. Then she licked her palm one more time and moved back to grip me with it again. Now there was plenty of lubrication and she was able to get a nice motion going. She began jerking me off in earnest.

I closed my eyes, feeling both strange and incredible. It was another out of body experience, as if I were at the top of the stairs watching this play out from a distance.

After a few more minutes of stroking, her pace was quickening and I was starting to feel close. My breathing became deep. I didn't know if I was going to ejaculate onto the side of the cabinets but I didn't care. I just savored the feeling. As I got closer to climax, I took some very deep breaths and probably uttered some warning sounds. Mom reached over with her free hand, took the mixing bowl and held it in front of me, still stroking with full commitment. I felt that feeling of being about to cum, opened my mouth and arched my back slightly. As I came, the first rope shot out like gelatin from a powerful squirt gun. Most of it landed in the bowl, but mom moved the bowl to better catch the rest. She held me in her grip as I shot my full load into the bowl. Once spent, her hand caressed me again, a few long but gentle strokes kneading the remaining cum from my dick. As it dangled at the tip, she caught it with her finger and again brought it up to her mouth. Still sucking on that finger she put the bowl back on the counter. Then, for the first time in this whole thing she smiled at me - sort of like a mom smile, but a very contented mom smile.

Mom stirred the batter. I pulled up my shorts and staggered to a dining room chair, my legs seemingly unable to sustain my body weight. I sat there silently as she stirred and then poured the batter onto the griddle, making four large and perfect pancakes. She seemed lost on thought as they cooked. At the right time she flipped each of them and then used the spatula to press each one down gently.

I was without words and unsure what to say or do, so I just sat there watching.

When ready, she lifted each of the pancakes off of the griddle and onto a serving plate. She brought it over and put two of them onto my plate. She sat down with the other two. There was a moment of us just sitting there, as if we were going to say a pre-meal prayer but we were not the praying type of family. Probably would have been an appropriate time to pray, now that I think of it.

The silence was broken when she reached for the butter and cheerfully said "Dig in!"

We both added tabs of butter, let them melt in. Mom used her fork to move her butter tab around the tops of both pancakes, helping them to melt. She poured only a little bit of syrup on top - just enough for the flavor but not so much as to overwhelm. As she cut a forkful and raised it to her mouth, she gave me a smile with the twinkling eyes of a girl who had just done the naughtiest thing ever. I smirked back at her and began to eat as well.