tagIncest/TabooMom Lends a Hand

Mom Lends a Hand


Even her name did something to me. Janice. After becoming a teenager, I sometimes called her that instead of mom. She asked me why and I said, "I just like the name Janice." She didn't give me a hard time over it.

My mother was born thirty-seven years ago. I wouldn't call her a 'Hippie,' and she was too young to be part of the 'Beat' generation, but I'd heard some people refer to her that way. She could write, paint, and play guitar, but never made money at any of it; and never cared. It was the doing that was important to her. And I guess I'd say that I had accepted the things that were important to her, as the things that really are important.

Being open the widest range of experiences and emotions was always at the top of her list of priorities. What mattered to her was never 'stuff'. And if what she did brought pleasure, and hurt no one, then as she liked to say, "Whoever doesn't like it, can jump off the Brooklyn Bridge." We lived in New York and spent a lot of time in Greenwich Village where people who lived lives on the edge of common society felt more comfortable.

When I was young, I went to the protests with her and carried signs, more to be with her than to participate. She talked to me about everything going on in her life and I was always learning from her, even though they didn't seem like lessons at the time. I guess I was the stand-in for my father Joe, who did all those things with her before he was killed by a fucking drunk driver. I was seven when he died so I don't have a big stash of memories about him. But I do remember how he looked at me; everyone should be looked at that way.

When I was mature enough to understand, mom talked to me about sex, and girls, and anatomy. I heard about the problems with her relationships. It was open and not self-conscious. I believed the things she told me, but something got lost between the ideas and carrying them out in everyday life.

So I did all the screwing up on my own. I was friendly, and got along great with girls, unless of course I liked one and found her hot. Then I was shy, anxious, and every other thing that made it hard for them to like me back. I went to parties, but didn't have a girlfriend until my second year in high school, and I didn't have sex, if you could even call it that, until I was about to graduate. It was awful. The three times it came down to it, I came so fast, it was over before it began. Talk about uptight. It bothered me so much that I stopped putting myself in the situation.

It seems a lifetime away now, but we're only talking about a matter of months. It was the summer before college and I was in the process of finding a job. Mostly I was hanging around the house with my Ipod and a book. At that time, my mother was seeing a guy named Vic, and he had just moved in. He was okay, but we weren't exactly going to baseball games together. Mostly, we had nothing to say to each other, and that was fine. I didn't think mom was that crazy about him because she was already grumbling to me that she might have made a mistake.

Meanwhile, she was sort of bugging me about doing nothing at the house so much, and when she asked me how come I hadn't been going out on dates, I said, "It's not fun."

She said, "We'll if you mope around with your dates the way you've doing here, I'm sure it's not fun. What gives Danny boy? Is something wrong?"

We went back and forth a bit with me giving her answers that weren't really answers. She was, as always, persistent. Finally I told her, with all the details. I didn't give a shit anymore.

She said, "Has this been going on a long time honey?"

I said, "Long enough." Before she could ask, I said, "I didn't talk about it with you because I was embarrassed."

"Oh Danny, you know better by now. Anyway, it doesn't matter. We can take it from here. It's not that big a deal. Let me think about it for a while, and then we'll talk." So we talked the next day and she told me lots of stuff about relaxing and gave me some techniques to slow me down and told me about the things women like. Most of it I'd heard before, but I could see that she was concerned and wanted to help.

The next Friday night I had a date with a girl I'd been out with a few times. She seemed ready to get physical and when it came down to it, it wasn't much better than the earlier times. I tried to do the things mom suggested, but the results were frustrating.

When I came home, mom was up. She saw that I was upset and said, "What is it baby, didn't your date go well?" I was so annoyed with myself, I couldn't answer. I didn't say anything. She said, "Come on baby, talk to me." I told her that I fucked up again. She said, "Look, I've been going over what's going on with you, and I think that the only way you're going to learn how to control your sexual energy is if you're exposed to enough experiences. Don't take this wrong Danny, but you just haven't seen enough, or done enough. When you're with a girlfriend and things start to happen, we'll, it's already too late in a sense, because both of you have expectations."

I said, "Maybe you're right mom, but what can I do about it?"

She said, "Listen sweetheart, sometimes a mother can do more for her son than his girlfriends can. Do you want me to try...or would it embarrass you?"

My mind clouded for a minute with the possibilities of what she could mean, but I dismissed them and said, "No mom, it won't embarrass me; I really need this."

She said, "Okay...but wait, maybe I'm jumping the gun here...I'm making some assumptions because of the way you uh...check me out sometimes." She laughed a little and said, "This isn't going to work if you don't think I'm...look, do you think I'm physically attractive?"

"Of course mom," I said.

"No, I mean...in a real way...oh maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Come on mom, don't tell you're going to help me and then..."

"Okay, okay, tell me what you like about my body."

I hesitated and then said, "It looks great mom."

She said, "No, tell me as if you're talking to one of your friends about another woman."

"Okay...man, you've got to see her boobs, they're perfect; a big handful that look terrific no matter what she's wearing, and..."

"Whoa fella..." Mom laughed. "Okay, you convinced me. One thing honey, don't get the wrong idea, this isn't about you and me, and we're not going to be doing anything...you know...this is about teaching you, right?"

I said, "Of course mom." There went my fantasies about mom and me.

"Great," she said. "This is a good week to start, Vic's at his convention, which I'm not sorry about, so we can do this in private." She took a deep breath and said, "Well, it's been a long day for me, so I'll say good night sweetie; we'll talk in the morning, and don't worry, in a few weeks you're going to be a different person."

I said, "Thanks mom."

She kissed me on the forehead and again said, "Don't worry," as she left.

I had a hard time falling asleep that night, a very hard time. That's because I was fantasizing all kinds of things about what mom might do to help me. I imagined touching her, and her touching me, but I figured what was really going to happen was that it would all be a lot of talk. That didn't stop me from coming as I pictured my mother naked.

At breakfast the next morning, everything seemed normal except for my anticipation of what mom was going to do to teach me. I didn't have to wait long. She started by saying. "You've never been uncomfortable when we talked about sex in general, so I hope we can be more specific now. And maybe this is a good time to call me Janice."

I said, "Janice it is, mom."

She laughed and said, "Be serious. Danny. I want to know something, do you masturbate a lot?"

I said, "I don't know what a lot is, but I probably do it every day."

She said, "Okay, that's good, because you shouldn't let that tension build up too much. So what turns you on first about a woman?"

I said, "I know there are a lot better answers, but the truth is...her breasts."

"Mom laughed, "Yeah, you and a bunch of other guys." She then took off the shirt she was wearing and my eyes popped at the sight of my mother in a white half bra that showed her creamy flesh almost spilling out. She said, "And if we're going to do this right, don't worry, you can say tits if you mean tits."

I said, "Well Janice, that is one spectacular pair of tits."

She giggled and said, "I'm glad you like them, but the thing is, you've got to see them enough so you don't get over stimulated. Are you...getting hard?"

I could feel the heat rising to my face, but she was so matter-of-fact about it all, I tried to follow suit. I said, "I'm not just getting there mom, I mean Janice, I'm there...hard, that is."

"Okay, you're probably feeling all kinds of things and thinking all kinds of thoughts, but first you've got to answer me truthfully about something, does it bother you that I'm your mother, and that I'm sitting here in front of you like this?"

"Bother me? No, it's only making me more excited." I could hardly keep my hand from reaching for her.

I think she could tell. She said, "Now remember what this is about, or it's not going to do you any good, okay?"

I said, "Okay."

She then said, "And Danny, don't masturbate until I tell you that it's okay."

I said, "Jesus mom." But I had to admit that I was just thinking about how nice it would feel.

After finishing the breakfast that I could hardly concentrate on, mom said, "Danny, will you help me with the dishes, I want us to do everything together for the next two days."

I said sure. As we got up, mom took her skirt off and I thought I would come in my pants. Her panties were white with a bit of lace that matched the bra. They weren't sheer enough for me to see her pussy, but they hugged it enough for me to see enough shape to fire my imagination. Her heels were medium height, but they were high enough to give her ass and boobs a jut when she stood and walked.

As I dried the dishes, I stepped back a couple of times to get an eyeful of mom's ass. She was on to me. She said, "Honey, you can look at me whenever you want to, that's what this all about."

I said, "Oh yeah," and turned my head to take a long leisurely visual ride along the curves of her legs and ass. "Boy that's nice," I said. I saw a warm smile light up her face as she washed.

I helped her do a few things around the house for an hour or so and didn't mind at all, considering the view. She said, "Okay, I just have to put the wash in, and then we can go out." We gathered up the laundry and took it to the machine. As she threw the last of it in, she thought for a minute, looked at me and said, "Oh what the hell," and reached behind to undo her bra. Her tits spilled out and she threw the bra into the washer and started it. I couldn't tell if the hum in my ears was from the machine or inside my head.

All I could think was, 'What a pair of tits on my mother.' What I said was, "Wow." They were beautifully shaped and still turned up at the nipples. The areola was large and pinkish.

She saw the way I was looking at her and she said, "They're just tits, you have to get used to seeing them and not go off the deep end." Boy was she wrong, they were a lot more than 'Just tits' and I was sorry when she went and got a tee shirt. But without a bra, her tits moved enticingly with every step she took.

When the wash was done, enough time had passed for me to calm down. Mom asked, "So how's it going baby?"

I said, "You know, I guess I'm feeling excited, but now it's almost in a calm way, if that makes any sense."

"Of course it makes sense," she said. "See, we're making progress already. Okay let's get dressed and go out somewhere." I said okay and started for my room when she said, "No honey, you come with me while I get dressed."

I followed her to her bedroom when she said, "Okay help me pick out what I should wear...let's start here." She opened her lingerie drawer and said, "How about one of the blue ones?" There were three blue sets and I picked the ones that looked smallest. She turned her back to me and took off the tee shirt and panties she had on.

I was appreciating mom's lesson more with every passing minute. I looked at the expanse of flawless skin from her neck down to her ankles and got hard as a rock. I could see a part of her breasts from the side and her ass was in full view. I soaked it in as she put on the blue bra and panties. She turned back and said, "There, that's better, now, stockings or no stockings?"

Before I could answer, she said, "No, wait, you seem very excited, are you?" She was looking at my bulge.

I said, "Well, yeah."

She said, "Come sit by me honey." We sat on the bed and she said, "Talk to me about your plans for the summer and school." The subject of school wasn't what came to mind while looking at my mother in her bra and panties. What I wanted to tell her was that all I could think about was being inside her pussy. Even though she was half naked, it's still not easy for a boy to say that to his mother. She saw my reluctance and said, "Look, you have to get used to looking and not getting over stimulated. Trust me. Tell me about school."

So I told her about my planning to go to Community College in the fall and not being sure what I wanted to take. And then we got into the job I was trying to get for the summer in an intern program. She then talked about her job and after about twenty minutes she said, "See, you're relaxed." She motioned to where the tent in my pants was.

I said, "You're right mom." It was true that the erection was not as visible, but I was still pretty stiff under there. I didn't tell her that.

She said, "Okay one more thing for today, this may be difficult, but I think it's going to help you." She reached back and took off her bra. There were those great tits again. She said, "I want you to touch me...I know you'll get a hard-on...I mean I hope you'll get a hard-on, but I want you to keep touching me until it goes away."

I must have been sitting there dumbfounded, because she put both palms on the bed, leaned back a bit so that her tits stuck out even more and said encouragingly, "It's okay, go ahead."

Well the hard-on she spoke of appeared even before I reached over and took one of her tits in my hand. I fondled it while massaging the nipple with my thumb. She heard me breathing hard, and she must have seen me gyrating my hips slowly to move my cock against my pants, because she said, "Just sit still and touch me until you're tired of it."

I thought she was crazy; I was never going to get tired of touching my mother's tits. I rubbed them, I coddled them, I felt, fondled, handled, and held them, for a long, long, time. They were creamy smooth and heavy when I cupped them. They were satiny to the touch of my fingertips. Every once in a while, a quiet, "Mmm..." came from the back of mom's throat. Finally I went to suck them, but she said, "Uh uh, just touch. If you start that other business, I may be in more trouble than you." I liked that she said that.

But ultimately she was right, it may have taken forever, but my hard-on did weaken, and when she saw it she said, "Good, we're making progress. You can touch a woman and not come, right baby?"

I said, "Right mom," My body was wet all over and I probably could have come with one stroke, but I didn't. She put her bra back on and the craziest fucking thing - my dick started getting hard again. I stood up and turned so I could hide the fact. I didn't want to disappoint her.

She said, "So, do I go bare-legged or..."

I said, "That's not a hard decision for me; stockings look great on you." She took out a pair of sheer pale blue thigh highs and as I watched her put them on, I imaging my hands caressing up her calves, to her thighs, and beyond. She put on a navy skirt and had me pick a top. I chose a low cut light sweater that I knew would keep some of her cleavage exposed.

After slipping into a pair of pumps, she went into her bathroom and put on some eyeliner and lipstick. I followed her in and looked at her in the mirror. She smiled as she finished and then I saw her eyes go down to the reflection of my pants. It wasn't hiding my hard-on very well. She said, "You're still up? You really are ready to go; no wonder you're having difficulties."

She laughed, "You're not making this easy baby."

I said, "Sorry mom."

She said, "You are a hot kid. Maybe it's...okay, Danny, take off your pants." I didn't argue. And then she said, "And now those shorts." My heart was thudding in my chest. I dropped my boxers exposing the biggest hard-on I think I ever had.

Mom raised her eyebrows and said, "All that just from looking at me? That's impressive, and flattering. But you did it before, and if you try and stay in control, after a while, you'll see, it won't be a big deal." She mused for a moment and said, "You're very much like him you know, ramrod straight and thick as my wrist." That was something of an exaggeration, but I liked the sound of her voice as she described my cock. Again she said, "Nice and easy, just as if this an every day thing...right?"

I said, "Right Janice." But I was juiced.

She seemed to be talking more to herself than to me. She said, "Jesus, I guess I can't leave you in that condition, maybe it's for the best anyway, this way you can...okay, step in here." She opened the glass door to her shower stall, and I wondered if I was about to get a cold dosing. Instead, mom took hold of my cock and said, "This will also be practice; now try and hold on without coming as long as you can, I'll start off slow."

My mother gave me three long strokes along the full length of my cock and I said, "Oh fuck...MOM, I'M COMING..." The first blast hit the tile on the opposite wall and I said, "Ohhh fuck."

She said, "It's okay baby...come." She stroked me harder and I shot off uncontrollably until I held the cold tile wall for balance.

I said, "I'm sorry mom, I just couldn't stop myself."

She said, "Don't worry, you were all pent up. Watch how long it takes you now." She took some lotion from the top of the vanity and massaged it over my flaccid meat. She caressed my balls and before I knew it, I was up. I don't think she could have been rubbing me for more than a minute before I was completely stiff again. I was breathing hard, trying to control myself, and not moan too loud.

Mom stroked me six or seven times, and despite telling myself not to come, I didn't even have the time to say 'I'm coming,' before I yelled, "OH...MOM..." and then released a cord of cum that fired off in quick response to the actions of her soft hands. Even though I didn't shoot as much cum as I did the first time, it felt even more intense. It didn't matter that it felt good, I was deflated. I said, "This is hopeless."

She said, "Don't be silly and don't give up; I won't." She gathered my balls and massaged some of the residual cum on them and along the soft shaft, which didn't stay soft long. But this time I didn't come right away. She stroked me ten times and then it became twenty. She said, "There you see...how does it feel?"

I said, "It feels great mom, and I don't feel as if I'm going to come right now."

She said, "There you go baby, now enjoy it and don't think about coming or not coming, just stop thinking and feel it for a while." I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensations that my mother's hand was providing. Minutes passed and I stopped worrying and started fantasizing. I was with a beautiful woman and she was taking me in her mouth, and then she was opening her legs and taking me inside her pussy. Of course the woman was the one with her hand on my cock.

Mom's voice took me out of my reverie. She said, "Yes baby, that's great, just try and hold out a little longer. I closed my eyes and relaxed, feeling her hand rhythmically sliding up and back along my shaft. After a few more minutes, mom said, "Yeah, that's my boy, you held out really well. I knew you could do it." She kept rubbing and then said, "Now you can come honey."

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