Mom, Me and Our Adventures with Spunk: part 3
Introduction:
When Mom wants to do EVERYTHING.
Yesterday had been quite the day by the time it had ended. I glanced down at my Mother wondering what she was thinking as we walked over to a bench and sat down with the most perfect view imaginable in front of us. There is nothing like an ocean and the wide blue yonder to make you understand your place in the grand scheme of things.
“Beautiful,” said Mom, smiling, “I could spend all day here like this.”
Stretching out my legs, I crossed them at the ankles and tried to bring myself back to the here and now. Which was difficult when so many other things were on my mind as each time I closed my eyes the memory of my Mother kneeling at my feet with my ever-ready boner in her small hands flashed before me.
At least three times had turned out to be actually three times by the end of the day and my well-pumped penis had been given an expert workout as we became more comfortable with the decisions we had made. The most important one being that my Mother would take care of business.
I turned to her as people walked by as we both stared out across the sea. “What are you thinking?” I asked her as she smoothed down the front of her red cardigan which covered her smart yellow blouse.
“That things can change in the blink of an eye,” she replied still looking away from me, “And that those things you think are important really aren’t and that life has a way of surprising you when you least expect it,” Mom turned back to me, “And that sometimes the unexpected solution is the right solution.”
“Does it bother you what you did?” Maybe in the cold light of another day she was having second thoughts.
A small quizzical smile crossed her face. “Does it bother you that I did what I did?”
We sat in silence for a moment before I shook my head. It did. Sort of. But I wasn’t going to tell her that.”No, Mom,” I told her, “What happened happened and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. It just took me by surprise that’s all.”
Mom searched my face. “Do you think we should stop?”
Of course we should stop. “No,” I said truthfully, “No I don’t. So long as you’re fine with it that’s all that matters.”
Reaching into my lap, she took my hand in hers. “No one must ever know, Henry,” she said firmly, “This is between us. You and me. And you must promise me it will only go as far as masturbating you. Do you understand?”
Well, there it is. Her limits. A selfish wave of disappointment washed over me as my heart dropped to my boots. Then again, what had I expected? Real honest to God sex with my own Mother? Don’t be stupid, dude. She had already gone far beyond any common sense of duty and you knew it. In two weeks this will all be nothing more than a memory.
She got to her feet and did a little playful pirouette in front of me before reaching out her right hand for me to take. “Come on, Buster,” she laughed, “I’ll buy you an ice cream on the way home.”
Arm in arm, we walked back towards home. Mom was right. About life. It does have a way of surprising you in ways you least expect.
As we were both about to find out.
***
The weekend faded away into a jizz spurting memory as the working and College week began with us settling into a set routine as our adventures to extract my spunk continued.
That routine was as follows: Wake up earlier so that Mom can sort me out before breakfast. Next session was straight after Mom came home from work and I’m back from College raring to go. Then we’d have dinner at six which left us about four to five hours of an evening where we would see how things went depending on how I was feeling.
Like I said, the routine is as routine does. Everything was running like clockwork until it suddenly decided it wasn’t. That was when everything sort of went a little bit insane.
***
It was now early Thursday morning of the first week.
As usual, I was in the shower giving myself a good scrub before I got ready for College and Mom was running around downstairs cursing to herself that she was going to be late for work as she had an important appointment with a client and there would be hell to pay if she missed it.
“HENRY?!” I heard her shout from the kitchen, “You get yourself downstairs right now if you want me to sort you out!” she ordered and even through the sound of the warm spray I could tell she was seriously pissed, “RIGHT THIS MINUTE DO YOU HEAR ME?!”
Loud and clear, Mom. So could the whole God damned neighborhood. I stuck my head around the glass partition. “I’M IN THE SHOWER, MOM!!”
There was a long pause then a strangled shriek before THUMP THUMP THUMP as I heard Mom stomping up the stairs.
Uh oh.
The bathroom door flew open and Mom came in breathing fire and brimstone. I stood there holding the loofah in front of me just in case I needed to defend myself. Wow, did she sound mad!
Mom slid open the shower door and stood there with her hands on hips with a face like thunder. Instinctively, I put my hands down over my crotch which, considering I was still holding the loofah, made it look like I had a twelve-inch sponge cock pointing in her general direction as the water cascaded down over me. Smart move, dude. Wait a second. I blinked with surprise as I looked at my Mother. Whoa, she looked seriously hot standing there in her bright yellow blouse, charcoal pleated pencil knee-length skirt, black stockings, and heels.
I gave her a little wave with the sponge penis. “Hi,” I croaked as I tried to look cool, calm, and collected standing there stark bollock naked in front of my own Mother.
But Mom wasn’t about to take any of my crap. “Out!” she ordered as she pointed to the spot next to her. Okay. Okay. I get the message. As I stepped past her, I noticed she glanced down at my rapidly expanding dick. She grabbed a towel from the handrail and put it on the floor between us as I stood there shivering and looking like a drowned rat.
“But Mom,” I whined, “I’m soaking wet!” It was then I saw she had the measuring beaker in her left hand which she placed next to her on the floor.
“Enough, Henry Peterson,” she scolded, “You know the rule. Stick to the plan as we had agreed. One in the morning. One in the afternoon. As many as you can manage for the rest of the evening.”
“But Moooooooooooom!”
“Shush!” she said firmly, “Do as you’re told, young man,” She hitched her skirt up slightly and knelt awkwardly on the towel in front of her, “Come on, chop chop. I haven’t got all day,” she urged impatiently as I thrust my hips forward giving my boner a quick yank back and forth.
Mom gave a little yelp of alarm “Oh, now look what you’ve done. You’re splashing water all over my clean blouse!”
Exasperated, she got to her feet and reached up to her chest. Hang on, what was she going to do? Mom gave me an annoyed glance before she began to impatiently undo each button of her yellow blouse and quickly removed it to leave her standing there in a flowery pink brassiere that just about kept her surprisingly full breasts in place.
Stunned, I let out a loud gasp as I gawped at her heaving bosom realizing that Mom had some serious puppies on her and then some. Talk about jaw on the floor. They looked frigging awesome with what looked like sizeable nipples pushing against the material of her bra.
Mom saw me staring at her partially hidden bust. “What?” she exclaimed as she got back down on her knees in front of me, “It’s not like you haven’t seen them before. I used to breastfeed you for heaven’s sake.”
Was she kidding? That was ages ago. “Mom, I used to doodle with my poop the last time I saw them.”
She sighed and sat back on her haunches. “Well, yes,” she replied tartly as she hooked each thumb under her bra straps and lifted the garment up making her awesome tits jiggle and wobble erotically in front of me, “Point taken. But it’s not like they’ve suddenly popped up out of nowhere.”
No shit.
“Oh, good grief,” she sighed, “Look at the time. This one is going to have to be a quickie, alright sweetie?” She pointed at her watch with me still hanging there twitching slightly in no man’s land.
Swatting my own away, Mom wrapped her hand around me and began to tug my boat as she really began to jerk me off harder.
“Seriously, Henry,” muttered Mom as she shuffled forward on her knees, “Just hurry up and shoot will you. I don’t have all day.”
What was she on about? Spurting the juice isn’t like ordering a pizza, Lady. Still, she really was in a rush I guess so I stared down at her wobbling tits and imagined what it would be like to stick my dick between them and get off that way.
Man, those titties sure did look good enough to suck even if they did belong to my Mom. Downstairs, I could feel the added visual thrill starting to work big time. It may have been a quickie but it sure as hell was going to be a big load.
Mom was by now seriously priming the pump. Her slim right hand was pulling my weiner this way and that as she tried to draw the spunk from my heavy balls. Yeah, Mom. Keep doing that because that was working gangbusters where it counted. Any second now..
“Uhhhhh,” I groaned as I closed my eyes at the wonderful tingles flooding through my swaying body, “Mom, gonna…”
“Good boy,” she nodded as she reached for the beaker on the floor next to her. But just as she was about to grab it, she sneezed.
And sneezed again. The reflex causing her left hand to knock the beaker across the bathroom floor before it rolled to a stop out of arm’s reach. Everything suddenly seemed to move in slow motion as we both stared at it as I felt my spunk slithering relentlessly up my shaft.
UH OH. NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
“Henry?” said Mom when she realized what was about to happen. She still had me in a firm grip and no doubt could feel the pulse of my thick ejaculate as it passed through her hand on its journey to freedom. There was no stopping this train and her eyes widened in panic as I waved my arms around like an idiot as my climax hit.
In a flash, Mom slid her hand down to the root of my shaft drawing my foreskin back so that the tender swollen purple dome appeared and, with an audible gasp of disbelief, she bent quickly forward over my crotch and stuffed the head of my cock into her mouth with a muffled “UMMMMMMFFFHHH!”
Everything stopped.
Time lost all meaning. As my Mother slipped her warm mouth further over my shooting cock, I swear I could hear bells ringing and Angels singing. Holy fucking shitballs with mustard on. It seriously felt like I had stuck the business end of my knob into the mains and 1.21 gigawatts of electricity had shot straight up my flux capacitor and fried my brain as I stood there on tippy-toe gawping at the woman who had over half my sex stuffed in her mouth.
MOM!
I couldn’t say anything if I wanted to. Speechless doesn’t even begin to come close to how I was feeling. This was just, I mean, stupidly awesome sauce.
“Umphhhhhhhhhhhh!” squealed Mom as the first gushing rush of sperm immediately filled her mouth with my sticky goo. She was nearly cross-eyed as she stared along the length of my cock before she finally looked up at me. She seemed more shocked than I was at what she had done as she eased slightly back and took the first of several hard swallows.
Each spurt of my spewing member was met with a muffled squeal as she reached around and brazenly grabbed my bare ass cheeks to keep us both still. I was totally gone. Away with the fucking fairies and all that. All I knew and cared about were the fantastic sensations flooding out around my crotch and smothered cock which felt totally mindblowing. Holy shitballs. This was better than anything I could have ever imagined in all my many masturbatory dreams. My creamy spend continued to spurt from me as Mom drained and sucked me dry like a trooper. Every single part of me felt vital and alive. From head to toe, I was skipping through the happy valley.
Finally, my seed became nothing more than a dribble and I could feel Mom using her tongue to draw the last of me out so she could swallow it down. She was breathing hard and her nostrils flared from the effort of sucking the spunk out of my slowly wilting prick. With a last slow wet sloppy plunge, she pushed her lips back down my length and dragged them back to the head where she finally let me slip from her mouth with a loud “plop” before sitting back coughing and gasping.
She was still holding me firmly by my ass which was just as well as I would have collapsed into a heap. I was twitching and shaking all over with the power of my climax as I opened my eyes and looked down at the woman kneeling at my feet.
Wow.
My first ever blow-job.
By my Mom.
***
Boy, they weren’t kidding when they say that life sometimes comes at you fast. Life sucks never had more meaning than at that moment.
Mom slowly got to her feet as we both stood there still stunned at what had happened. She went over, picked up the empty beaker and looked at it for a moment. Retrieving her blouse, she walked to the door and stopped. Unable to speak, I watched as she slipped it on and buttoned up the front before smoothing down the front of her skirt.
Then she turned to me.
“Sometimes, Henry,” she said as I stood there in all my spaced out nakedness, “It’s not a matter of who we are but of what we are.”
“Are you alright?” I asked her.
She nodded and smiled briefly at me. The kind of smile that said everything was going to be fine. That she understood the name of the game. “You finish your shower, sweetie,” she said, “I really do have to run.”
With that, she left the bathroom and went downstairs to collect her things before heading off to work.
***
Thank fuck I didn’t have a Class till later that afternoon and I spent the morning walking and sitting around the house in a daze.
As usual, I ended up back in my bedroom screwing around on my laptop still dressed in only my pyjama bottoms as I tried to make some sort of sense to what had happened earlier. My first Bee Jay. Holy smokes. Everything had happened in the blink of an eye and I wasn’t sure if I’d enjoyed the actual experience because it had been such a shock. I think I did. I had certainly blown my wad in short order. Glancing at myself in the wardrobe mirror, I suddenly felt self-conscious about the way I looked. Getting up from my chair, I stood there for a moment staring at my physically odd doppelganger looking back at me critically.
“WWUHHHHRRRRAAAARRRRR!!” I growled suddenly doing my best angry Hulk impression before pulling off a Superman pose as I flexed my biceps theatrically.
Oh, for the love of Mike. Yeah. Okay, dude. “Don’t be a dick,” I sighed and stood up straight pulling a serious face as I looked myself up and down. I guess every kid grows up wanting to look like Tom Cruise but all I could see was a teenage Fred Flinstone staring back at me. Bad hair and all. Thanks, Dad. Awesome genes.
I turned to profile, sucked in my gut, puffed out my chest, and held my breath. Alright, that doesn’t look so bad. Then I let out a long slow gasp and watched my belly flop forward over the top of my pyjama bottoms. Dude, I need to work the fuck out like yesterday. Ride a bike. Go for long walks or something. Stepping right up to the mirror, I gurned this way and that pulling faces as I checked for zits or spots. Nope, thankfully I had avoided all that shit.
On the spur of the moment, I stripped off my bottoms and stood there checking out my equipment as I considered my limp dick as it hung down over my prominent ball sack. It looked slightly red which wasn’t surprising considering how it had been used and abused these past few days. I grabbed it by the foreskin and stretched it out like a piece of elastic. Gee, there was a thing. Could you actually wear your cock out by wanking too much?
Even as that thought crossed my mind, I saw myself begin to stiffen up until Dick Dastardly was at full mast as I twisted this way and that thrusting my crotch forward like an idiot. You’re eighteen and a bit, dude. Maybe you need to act like it. Especially now.
One thing was true enough though as I turned so I could see my flabby ass in all its droopy glory in the mirror and that was getting a blow job was way better than getting it done by hand. It felt like that would be as good as it gets sex-wise. I began to wonder what would happen next and all sorts of freaky things crossed my mind. But that’s the thing with expectation and an over-active imagination.
Sometimes what you imagine will happen doesn’t.
***
When Mom came home from work I was already waiting for her in the hallway.
Surprised, she removed her jacket and hung it up on the rack. “Oh!” she said when she saw me standing there leaning against the wall, “Hello you,” She reached up and ran her hands through her thick blonde hair. She looked slightly frazzled as she scooted off her black shoes, “What a day I’ve had. Do this. Do that. Fix the other. Have you had anything to eat yet?” she asked giving me a hug before heading for the kitchen.
“Ordered pizza earlier,” I said, following her nervously, “You just need to warm your half up. Ham and pineapple with everything on. The works.” Sitting down at the table, I watched as she got her share and went over to put it in the microwave. I sat there twiddling my thumbs not exactly sure what to do or how to break the ice. Should I say something? About this morning? How the hell do you start that conversation anyway?
I decided it was probably best to let Mom lead the way.
Except she didn’t. Not a word. It was like the whole thing never happened as she sat opposite me eating her pizza with a smile on her face as she asked me how my day had gone.
Gone?
Hell’s teeth. It had been the slowest day ever. Every second had felt like an hour and every hour had dragged on forever. Was she serious? All day I had expected us to have the big talk that evening about it. But nope. Well, damn. Maybe she just wanted to put the whole “I sucked my only Son’s dick and swallowed his spunk” episode behind her and move on. That had to be the only explanation as she got up from the table and went to the sink to wash her plate clean.
How can she forget about it when it was the only thing I could think about?
I had to say something. Anything. Just to get us back to that place again. To turn the conversation around. “Uh, Mom,” I mumbled, “About this morning,”
Mom put a finger to her lips and shook her head as she looked at me. “Shhhhh,” she said softly, “Shhhhhh.”
Welp, I guess that was fucking that.
***
Lit by a moonlight shadow, Mom sat at the bottom of my single bed as we finished another session with me blowing my load into the measuring beaker.
I lay back against my pillow still breathing hard as I came down from the high of my masturbated by Mom orgasm. I could feel the muscles in my thighs still twitching as the blood pumping through my veins finally began to slow and return to normal.
In her hand, Mom had the full measuring beaker and she held it up to the blue light coming in through the window. It was late. Gone eleven when Mom asked me if I was good to go for another round and for her to finally let me know we were going to return to the old routine as we had originally agreed over a week ago. Beside me on the bed was the sheet of paper where she recorded the results of my output. Despite our little detour this morning, my daily sperm count was remarkably similar across the chart with only slight variations here and there. On average, I sure was making a silly amount of man goo down there in the ice cream parlor.
“Another one almost full to the brim, dear,” smiled my Mother as she got to her feet, “Goodness knows what Doctor Meadow is going to make of all this,” She stopped at the door, “Did you enjoy that, Henry?”
I just nodded. “Yeah, Mom,” I sighed feeling exhausted but sated as I eased up to sit on the side of my bed, “You’re the best.”
Mom stared at me for a second. “I’m glad. Sleep tight, sweetie.”
And with that, she left the room.
***
The next three days slipped away and everything returned to normal.
Normal as if our regular masturbation adventures were an everyday thing like eating breakfast or brushing your teeth. It’s amazing how something so abnormal becomes the new normal with the bare minimum being at least three squirts per day. My always ready libido was in a constant state of raring to go. Each ejaculation was as good as the last. But I knew in my heart that none was as good as that special one.
It had gone seven. Dinner was done and we were deep into another extraction with Mom vigorously tugging out my elasticated dong as she again had me gasping and groaning as I lay there on my bed.
Boom. Time flies when you’re having fun. “Coming, Mom,” I grunted as Stan and Ollie let loose the tadpoles of war. Mom, as ever, had the container ready and I forced myself up onto my elbows so I could watch the show. Mom had a silly girlish grin on her face as I started to flood the beaker with my thick stuff.
“Oooo, sweetie,” she laughed, “Look at all that delicious stuff spurting out of your big cock!”
Through my funk, I blinked at her as she extracted my stuff like she was pulling a pint. Listening to your own Mom talk that way was the most surreal thing ever. Delicious? Big cock? Spurting?
With a last jerk of my hips, I collapsed into a happy heap as my own personal masturbator in chief made sure she got every last drop she could from me. “That’s a good boy,” she said, praising my efforts as she got to her feet, “Clean yourself up and I’ll go sort this out. Okay, sweetie?”
I was flat on my back and waved my hand at her. “Sure, Mom. Whatever.”
Mom disappeared and I dragged myself wearily to my feet. Going over to my dresser, I sorted through the pile of freshly laundered clothes to get some clean underwear before I hit the shower. Except there wasn’t any. Well, shit.
Still a bit groggy, I went downstairs to ask Mom what was up and as I approached the kitchen I suddenly felt something wasn’t quite right. The door was slightly ajar and I quietly walked up to it and peeked through the gap.
Unaware she was being watched, Mom was sat at the table with the beaker in front of her and she was scribbling down the result and date onto the sheet. Once she was done, she picked the container up and went over to the sink to wash it out and rinse it clean.
Except she didn’t do that.
What she did do blew my tiny little mind.
She raised the full beaker and looked at it intently. Then, to my utter gobsmacked astonishment, she tilted her head slightly back, held my sperm sample deliberately over her now open mouth and let my thick seed spill slowly over the rim so that a long thick strand of spunk dribbled down until there was a large puddle of goo on her thrust out tongue. With my jaw on the floor, I watched as she closed her mouth and took the first of three extravagant gulps as she swallowed my whole load down her throat before she smacked her lips together loudly.
“Yummy,” I heard her say as she licked the container clean before rinsing it under the tap as I stood there freaking the fuck out. I was so stunned and shocked I nearly farted with surprise at what she had done.
YUMMY?!
Holy fucking shit.
My Mom was a cum slut.
***
End of Part 3.
