Type, type, type Pt. 01

See her titties in just a thin bra all day and get spanked? I was in heaven. I'm sure my face flushed.

"Can I trust you? What happens in this office goes no further, understand me Benjamin?" She looked at me seriously. "Do you understand I'm trying to help you?"

"Yes ma'am."

For the next hour and a half, I read as her fingers flew across the keyboard, making students' work look professional as possible, page by page. My cock was stiff nearly the whole time, bulging down one leg of my shorts. I got my best view of her jiggling, swaying titties between pages, when she rolled another finished sheet out of the machine.

Mom zipped up, but not all the way, for lunch. She turned heads as usual, but I wasn't jealous because she was my mom and nothing could change that. She reminded me of our deal as we returned from Burger King and I slid the zipper down once more. It was warm outside and the office AC was on. We had our milkshakes still and at one point I believed I saw bulges from her nipples. I had seen her 'cold' but a few times over the years, as she had carefully guarded them and hardly ever was braless except late at night in her nightgowns, nearly always covered by an arm or a thick robe.

"Breakroom, young man," she said sternly late that afternoon when we were done. "This time I need your pants off completely."

She arrived as I was happily stepping out of my shorts and boxers and tossing them in a chair. My stiff seven inches was flailing around but she ignored it. I could feel the cooler air on my balls. I noticed she hadn't zipped her top up yet, an extra treat.

The metal tray spanking came as expected, and my ass stung, heated and throbbing. She grunted about me spying on her; I knew I hadn't gotten off Scot free for listening under her door. I then got the unbelievable answer as to why my shorts needed to be all the way off. I reached for them, looking forward to record-breaking jerk off sessions. I hadn't squirted all week, in anticipation of being half naked in front of Mom and getting another red ass.

"Wait," she said, guiding me to bend over once more. "All this has a purpose, Benjamin," she began, standing behind me. "I wore the zippered top because I wanted to make sure you were...stimulated for this to work, and I hope it calms you down," I heard the squeak and snap of what sounded like surgical gloves behind me. "Hold still," she said calmly.

"This is not sexual, understand? This is intended as a medical procedure. I hope to rid you of some of the built up spermatozoa that's making you crazy. While I'm proud that you apparently haven't been committing the sin of masturbation, that penis seems to always be erect and is leading you astray."

"Astray?"

"You seem to be developing an unhealthy sexual attraction," she said, crouching behind me.

"I don't know what you mean," I shrugged.

"Benji, cut the crap. The sudden obsession with my breasts, looking up my dress, trying to see under my bedroom door. I'm flattered, but your...hormonal lust is...misdirected."

Before I could admit that she was right about the lust, but wrong about the misdirection, a slick finger was sliding into my asshole, then a second. Her lubed fingers then began to rub the inside of my colon. A shock at first, it quickly felt terrific, and soon it felt like I had to pee, only worse. Then I realized I was about to shoot! I groaned as she kept going, and my stiff dick dribbled out a big blob and then flexed up and down as I grunted and squirted long, fat jets of sperm into the air. They made several big puddles on the linoleum breakroom floor. It was the longest and most intense orgasm for me ever. I stood, out of breath, dick drizzling a thin string, as my mom removed her fingers.

"My goodness!" Mom said, in rare surprise, at the mess on the floor. "Well, I hope that helps you, my boy." She kissed my cheek. She hadn't kissed me in over a month, I thought as I mopped up the week's worth of smelly semen with paper towels from the dispenser on the wall. She had me keep those separate and pitch them in the dumpster outside since the they would "raise suspicions" if left in the can.

7

There was no typing the next day; we were supposed to have a 'family dinner' one Sunday a month.

It was a fruitless idea the priest had suggested to help bring my parents back together, and 'open communication channels' again, and so on. My dad claimed he had duty and simply dropped the twins at the restaurant, not even bothering to come in and at least say hi to Mom and his own son, even if I was a 'juvenile offender.' Mom wasn't happy. It was good seeing my sisters again, even if they were their usual self-absorbed selves.

Mom and I worked a couple weeknights, but it was normal reading and typing, since the nighttime janitorial people could pop in at any time. Finally it was Saturday.

At this point I had no idea if Mom was going to continue 'helping me' or not. Saturday morning she wore a shirt dress, a 70's trend that looked like a safari shirt that had pockets with flaps on the front. They usually had a knotted scarf around the neck and belt at the waist and were long enough to reach her knees. She wore low heel sandals on her pretty feet. I told Mom she looked nice, and she mentioned we were going to a nice lunch for a change, since business was good.

I said nothing about the 'therapy' she had begun, and was disappointed until halfway through the first term paper. I had been watching her chest shift and quiver inside the dress as she moved her arms.

"Benji, I see you glancing in the direction of my breasts." She sighed. "Are you still, um...having problems with...erections?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered right away.

"I'm being serious, Benjamin."

"Me too. I guess I need more help."

"I'm not kidding," she said sternly.

"Me either." I looked right into her eyes. "Please, Mom?"

"I was afraid once wouldn't be enough to break the habit," she muttered to herself. "Like last time, if you unbutton my dress, there will be punishment as usual."

Not wasting a second, I leaned in and slipped the wood buttons through their holes, slowly revealing the wonderful sights beneath her dress as my dick quickly stiffened. Mom had worn a pink bra I hadn't seen in her dresser before. It was kind of sheer, shiny, and smooth on the front. It didn't withhold her nipples as well as the other bras, and the cups were cone shaped on the peaks, and a shadow of her areolas was visible if I looked carefully. Mom's 'treatments' kept getting better and better. I had asked myself why she was doing this, maybe part 'help', part torture, but as long as she let me look, I would.

The new, revealing pink bra and her semi-hard nipples, along with the usual jiggling flesh had my cock screaming by lunchtime. The shirtdress was less clingy than her zippered top from last week, and more of her bra and tummy was visible. Even watching her breathe was awesome.

We went to a local steakhouse for lunch, and once we were back and locked in, she reminded me about the deal, but added something.

"If you unfasten my belt and unbutton the rest of the dress, you'll be punished with the belt."

In moments I had undone the belt and it was just hanging off each side of her chair. I was hard as a rock thinking about being whipped with the braided cloth. As I kept unbuttoning, the upper band of her panties was the next view, then the shiny front panel, triangular and offering a shadow of the pubes beneath; they weren't as dark as I thought. I could make out slight pink patches of razor burn where she had apparently shaved her 'bikini area'. She was practically naked. It was difficult to concentrate for the next few hours but I managed to get through it.

"Are you ready, my hormonal son?" she asked after the last paper, walking into the breakroom, dress still completely open, titties bouncing slightly in the shiny bra, cleavage quivering, nipples gathered into peaks. I got a quick glance at the divide in her panties as they clung to her, what I later learned was called a 'camel toe'. She was carrying the belt. I was already pants free, dick painfully throbbing and leaking drops of clear semen. I had worn a tennis shirt, so there were no shirttails to block the view of my cock sticking straight out and maybe up a little, balls swinging.

"Good lands, that thing has a mind of its own," Mom said as she looked down at my reddish stiff meat, her open dress swaying as her beautiful curves moved. I loved it, knowing she was looking at my cock.

Moments later I was bent forward and waiting.

"Last night I accidentally dropped some dirty laundry in the hall by my bedroom door. While I was down there I tried to look under my closed door. You can't see a thing. So I realized you must have been listening. Did you hear anything you shouldn't have?"

"Well, yes ma'am," I said, bent over, boner throbbing and burning, recalling her moans and gasps that night.

"Understand you are sworn to silence about that too, Benji. And I expect to see no more shadows under my door at night."

"Yes ma'am."

The whipping came; I didn't realize that wimpy looking canvas belt could hurt so much.

This time when Mom was squatted down and massaging my prostate, I later learned what it was called, she seemed to be leaning out from behind me to watch me shoot. I took a chance and laid my hand on her shoulder. She reached up so her free hand covered mine. This only excited me more, and I shot several thick blasts a couple feet long. I hoped she liked the show.

"I hope that helps you, Benji," she said and kissed my cheek again. She had no idea how good it made me feel, and how much I loved her.

8

The following day, she wore the same sleeveless plaid top that started this whole episode. It was buttoned correctly this time. We had typed one short paper when she mentioned it.

"I guess it's safe to wear this blouse since your erection problem is cured."

"Cured?"

"Yes, no more for a while, right?"

"I get them every day Mom." I wondered what the hell she had been told about teenaged boners.

"Don't kid me Benji..."

"I could get one right now," I boasted.

"Surrre you can," she said sarcastically. "Okay young man, leave your boxers on, but lower your shorts."

She blatantly looked at my bulge-free boxers with my resting dick hovering inside. To my shock, my mom told me to unhook her. Sure enough, my dick twitched and started to grow.

"Pull the shoulder strap down my arm." Mom maneuvered her elbow next to her body to slide out of the bra strap. "Okay, now you can pull it all out the other side." She raised her arm, and I loved the view of her shaven armpit.

"Really?" I couldn't believe my ears. I'm sure I was blushing red as tugged on her bra, warm from her body. It was the new one she had showed me the past week. My dick stiffened as I watched her titties fall from the cups and assume the lowered, less projecting, and quivering sight they were in the occasional momentary pajama views I had received over the years. They were not as bulky as when supported, but still the size of grapefruit.

"Turn around, Benji," she said as she spun a finger around. Any arm movement made her breasts shake. I assumed she would reassemble it right then while I was facing away.

"Thanks for the lesson," I stared at the wall opposite. "Need it back?" I kidded.

"Not for a while, if that's okay," she said to my further shock. "Okay," she said. While I was turned away, Mom had gathered her lower shirt around her ribcage and knotted the tails off like Mary Ann on Gilligan's Island, except all the buttons were also undone, revealing's Mom's stunning, natural cleavage. "So? What do you think, my hormonal son? I see I was misinformed about erections." She smiled and looked down at my bulging boxers.

"You look awesome Mom!"

She tightened the knot in her shirt and actually giggled. I hadn't seen her so playful in years. I actually wondered if she had been drinking, except she had been her usual serious self all morning. "I haven't done such a scandalous thing since my twenties!" she exclaimed, looking down at her stunning, quivering braless top. She patted the chair next to her, which was her hint that we had to get back to work. Her left titty shook.

I was almost euphoric, reading term papers while my mom typed, her titties jiggling and swaying almost constantly, with the big show when her right side bounced and recoiled from removing a completed page and twisting the knob to roll a new sheet of paper into the machine.

At the end of the afternoon's work, I was once again without pants and enjoying her fingers in my ass, which stung from the belt she brought in her purse. There was a problem, however. After shooting that huge load all over the floor the previous day, I was not close to doing it again, even with her braless all afternoon.

"Um, Mom, I don't think this is working."

"Oh fiddlesticks! I was afraid it would come to this!" Her fingers slid out of my butt hole. She arose, stepped over to the 'special' trashbag we used for our activities and slid the glove off. I reached for my shorts. "Wait Benji dear, we're not done."

Mom made the sign of the cross on her torso, then slipped on another latex glove, and lubed the palm. She stood next to me on my left side, and reached down to my stiff cock. My jaw hung open, I'm sure.

"Remember, Benji, not a word." To my utter disbelief, my mom began stroking my dick. "I haven't done this since my twenties either!" she snickered. I think she hadn't realized how much her chest would flail around as her arm pumped back and forth the length of my rock hard cock. Her globes overhung the gathered band her shirt created and bounced rhythmically, reflected in her rapidly quaking cleavage. "This turned out to be quite the show for you, didn't it, dear?"

"Yes! I love you so much, Mom!" I managed to say, my breath heavy.

My mom must have given hand jobs in high school or college, I thought as she sped up and her titties were shaking wildly. She knew what she was doing, I thought right before I spewed a good-sized load onto the floor in a couple thick streams, then dribbled a palmful into Mom's glove. "I love you too, my hormonal boy!" she kidded, sperm dripping off her hand. I turned to grab my shorts, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her sniffing the white goo on her wrist.

9

The next weekend was the end of school for me. I not only passed every class but got mostly B's and C's. The college term paper business had already stopped and the high school papers ceased as well. I thought our fun was over until Mom told me she got a 'commission' to type a professor's book. It would take at least a couple months of nights and weekends to finish. I was ecstatic, but it was a couple weeks before it was ready. I got a part time job I could walk to at the base filling station, which was open half days Saturdays and closed Sundays.

My mom had some time off, and took a week to fly east with the twins to see her mother in Connecticut. I had to stay and work. Mom's family had a big old farmhouse, but the fields were all leased out to others or made into strip malls since grandpa died years ago. Apparently there was not much to do there but lie in the sun or shop in New York City, since all three of them came back well-tanned and with lots of new clothes. Mom looked beautiful.

A week later, it was the first Saturday of typing the professor's book. Mom wore a denim halter dress but with a white button up shirt over the top. She hadn't worn the halter dress since I was a kid, but she looked terrific. As best I could tell, she had no tan line across back, and I mentioned that to her once we were at the office. She hadn't sat down to type yet, and unbuttoned the shirt and slid it down far enough to confirm my suspicions.

"So you just lie there with the strap undone?" I asked, pretending I hadn't seen such sunbathing at a pool or on TV. I was imagining her unhooking herself when she surprised me. "Yes, but it was no fun without my best un-hooker there to help me." She made a fake pout and then smiled, tapping me on the head playfully with the big paperback dictionary she had pulled from her desk.

"Did you ever forget and turn over?" I asked.

"Well, there was an incident once at the beach in college. I missed the hook when I arose and screamed when the top flung itself away like a slingshot. Katie snatched the top and wouldn't give it back. I had to cover up with my towel until I agreed to buy her beer since she was underage. I guess some people got a momentary burlesque show." Katie was my aunt, a year younger than Mom. She was a short and curvy redhead but was loud and kind of mean to us kids. She went into a convent for a couple years but never became a nun.

"Wish I could travel back in time to see that," I replied, referring to the loss of the bikini top.

"Oh Benji," she sighed, "what am I going to do with you?" she asked as she rebuttoned the white shirt.

I had several ideas of 'what she could do with me' but didn't dare say them out loud.

After a couple chapters, she had me unhook the denim dress at the back of her neck. Over the next two hours it gradually slid down a little in the front, but the white button down shirt and kept things from moving much and me from seeing anything. There was still plenty of swaying beneath for my stiff dick to enjoy. Maybe it was for the best, since I had a three week load waiting to blast out of my nuts. Too much stimulation and I would have filled my boxers. I was still looking forward to being pants off and spanked as well. It was hard not to jerk off all that time when they were away, because usually when I had the house to myself, I'd grab the hand lotion and jerk off wearing just a t-shirt only all over the house and garage and even behind the bushes in the back yard at night.

After lunch I about passed out. Mom had emerged from the bathroom with the halter dress removed and in her hand. She still wore the buttoned-up white shirt, and the shirttails covered her panties and she was of course braless underneath. I could kind of see the cone-shaped, darker skin of her reddish nipples as they bounced and pointed at me.

"Not a word to anyone, Benji, right?" she said, looking sternly at me before switching to a sneaky smile. "I forgot how uncomfortable that dress is, and what's the use of getting a tan if no one sees it?" Mom stood for a moment with her beautiful legs pressed together and bent at the knee like a calendar girl. She hummed a laugh before insisting we get back to work.

Her titties bounced and jiggled all afternoon, and she noticed me looking down at her panties, sometimes not covered by the shirttails.

"Okay, I see you gawking, young man," she said, sighing and rolling her eyes. Mom unfastened the lowest two buttons of her shirt and spread it open, revealing her panties. Before I could take in the view of the subtle mounding of the white cotton, she spoke.

"Only a few seconds, Benjamin," she said, looking down at her exposed underwear. She looked at me and then motioned with her eyes to the panties. "It's just hair, no different than yours," she said, guiding my wrist toward her lap. "But I know you won't be happy until you've seen...down there."

Was my mom telling me to pull her waistband away to look at her bush? My cock throbbed even harder I had never been so close to shooting in my pants in my life. Our weird summer continued as I looked down past the elastic at her untanned skin and light brown pubes, thick and holding the shape the panties compressed it into. To my further shock, Mom combed it for a moment with her fingers, then pulling up as if she was trying to pull it out. Her body jolted and Mom inhaled like she had jumped into cold water. She exhaled with a sigh and shut her eyes for a moment. "See, nothing that exciting," she said, as the waist band snapped shut, a slight tremble to her voice.