The New Mom

Fortunately, I suppose, our bathroom interlude had set the evening schedule back somewhat. It took me a full hour just to psychologically adjust. By the time I got down to the kitchen, the table was set, and Mom had already eaten. The evening meal, as good as it was, went past like a blur.

She was really rushed from before the time I arrived at the table: on the phone, pulling together what she needed; half her time was spent in her beautiful head. Her eyes were either darting around or staring reflectively up as she moved about, trying to play catch-up. She was never unprepared. The day was obviously as consuming for her as it was for me. 

She was hurrying to get ready for an evening out with a friend who, naturally, for once, showed up early. 

"Margaret, are you about ready?" The call came from the front hall. 

It was an unusual spectacle. I just loved watching her. She did everything with a touch of grace. It wasn't the result of some kind of training or something; it simply came from within. It was why I always had such confidence in her. She was never contrived, always sincere, and completely candid. I think that is the reason why she didn't have a lot more friends than she did. Phony people found her too strenuous to be around. And I, myself, could never ever really lie to her. It would be a total breach of our relationship, which I cherished above all else. 

She was always so put-together. Next to her, I always felt inferior, but I never ever felt at a disadvantage. I knew now that this was something that would have to change. I just didn't know what it was changing into. I just knew that I had to be more of a participant. At any rate, she was out the door before I cleared my plate, and I would be asleep in my room before she got home. 

I was happy to have a break and some time to brood over the last eight hours. Thinking about it was too strenuous. I could only brood. It seemed like it had been more like eight days. I was consumed with longing, but it wasn't at all obvious to me what it was that I wanted. It wasn't homework—that was for sure. So I just blew that off, thinking I would deal with that tomorrow. My preoccupation revolved around one thing. It depended entirely upon my mom. I mean, I had no idea where this was going, but she really had my attention. All I could dwell on was her …in every imaginable way. 

As it turned out, I was wrong; I was up for hours after she got home, replaying every word she had said to me, every smile, each wink, and every touch—where she touched me, how she touched me, and with what she touched me. The final time I masturbated that night, which was at around four am, hardly anything came out of me. Between ten p.m. and then, I drank at least a pitcher of water. I finally drifted off into a very deep sleep. 

Mornings were always kind of quiet in our home. My mom was always softly moving about long before I was awake. It seemed like she never slept. The very big bathroom upstairs in our old house was just down the hall from my room, but directly opposite my parents', which I had lately gradually discovered was seldom occupied by my dad. Usually, my first step in the morning, after dragging myself out of bed, was to head to the bathroom to take a piss. I was already a big water drinker due to my involvement in athletics; dehydration was quite common, so I acquired the habit of drinking a tall tumbler of water before going to sleep, although last night was over the top. Of course, this morning, I woke up, not only with the typical teenage hard-on, but also with the urgent need to get to the bathroom as soon as I could to relieve myself. 

This morning, however, as I headed through the bathroom door, squeezing my dick in my hand to keep from pissing myself, as I moved toward the toilet, I was surprised to find my mom already in there brushing her teeth. She was behind her normal schedule and just glanced in the mirror at my enormous erection while sloshing rinse water around in her mouth. Dulled by sleep, I just stumbled toward the toilet, unequipped to deal with the situation. Being naked in front of her, especially with a stiff dick in my hand, wasn't something that I had really yet become accustomed to. As I walked straight for the toilet, my mom made absolutely no effort to turn her gaze away. With distant calm, my new mom cleared her mouth, wiped the excess toothpaste from her lips with a towel, and painted on a broad smile—of which she was not the least ashamed. She just loved seeing my dick hard, no matter what the occasion was. 

After yesterday's episode at the doctor, where she obviously seemed to enjoy her long and clear vision of my erect and ejaculating penis, followed by the hand job later in the bathroom, today's expansive smile didn't seem to express anything new or shocking. During the ride home in the car, she had made it clear that she was pleased to know that her presence at the physical really excited me and that she was able to sense that. She even enjoyed it. She enjoyed handling my dick in the bathroom before dinner, and now things didn't appear to be at all different. I sensed the thrill that she was experiencing as she witnessed me continue to pull my dick fully from my briefs. Her excited gaze shot through me, and my prick solidified to rock in my hand in direct response.

I was so out of it I could barely see straight. From the combined habit and urgency, I continued uninterrupted to the toilet, trying to conceal myself by turning my back towards her and pretending that she just wasn't right there, right now. Focusing on the job at hand, I raised the toilet seat with my left hand while I struggled to force my solidly erect penis downward. After considerable contortion, I was able to gain a workable trajectory with some expectation that I could actually hit the toilet. I tried to release, but in spite of my overfilled bladder, I was unable to actually let go. So I just stood there hunched over in a really awkward pose while absolutely nothing was happening. 

Unexpectedly, behind me, my mom uttered a low and soft, "Oh, dear." 

In response, I looked over my shoulder to see that she had now turned around. She bore an expression unlike any I have ever seen on anyone. It was a queer look that betrayed a peculiar mixture of loving concern and amusement. She never ceased to surprise me, even now as she moved toward me with her hand outstretched and a sense of urgency. 

"Let me help," she said as she tried to push my hand aside and softly wrapped her right hand around my girth. 

Her certainty of purpose was as strong and reliable as I had ever felt it to be. She displayed no wavering this time, but only a wisdom that radiated from some depth that was, in the kindest way, both commanding and unimpeachable. The last gasp of yesterday's embarrassment in the car was completely extinguished in me as I gave myself implicitly to her guidance. 

The arousal that she unabashedly displayed with these developments revealed that she, too, was undergoing an awakening. How could she ever have anticipated what a stunning and exhilarating thrill would arise as a result of so confidently holding her son's fully erect cock in her hand? This unfolding process of discovery also involved her. She was clearly the leader, however, as we forged into this new, unknown realm. 

"You will never, ever, be able to pee with your penis so erect," she said. "Obviously," she continued serenely, "you need to relieve either one urge or the other. Right now, your veeerrrry proud dick is indicating which one is the priority." 

She didn't have to say that this was the type of advice she was referring to yesterday in the car—that advice that she would be able to give me, but only if I was open to it. The last emotional resistance to her nearness finally evaporated when I released the grip I still had on my dick and accepted her knowing hand. She added her left hand now to replace mine. This repeated intimate contact was still new and exciting, and I welcomed it enthusiastically now. I just couldn't imagine what was coming next. 

"I'm sure," she said slowly and confidently, "that I can help to speed this along." 

She began, at first, to use the fingers of her left hand to toy with and manipulate the end of my cock. 

Staring directly at my dick, she cooed, "Ever since yesterday, I could not picture this special, hard penis any other way except it being in my hand. Now I know that I've never wanted anything in my life as much as being this close to you." 

This confession of hers sent adrenaline pumping through me like I had never known before. I never realized just how much I secretly wanted just this to happen. What yesterday was at first embarrassing, today was drawing me in with an electrifying magnetism. 

"Mom," I blurted out, "it never would have occurred to me that you could feel this way." 

"It's a little new for me, too. But I can tell you this: you have no idea what's in store for you!" she softly replied. 

The "Boy, are you in for a ride!" gal was back. How could I not have confidence in that?! 

Standing beside me, she relaxed her grip on my dick a bit, just for a moment. She cocked her head slightly, looking at me, and added reflectively, "Every mother loves her child, but now I've learned something different,"—she shook my dick side to side—"things have become quite new." Her voice deepened and became sultry with the recognition. "I really felt that yesterday at the doctor's office when I first saw your huge erection." 

She stood there hunched over, holding my dick in her right hand, continuing to caress the tip with the fingertips of her left. She changed her position to squat now before me, and as she did, her robe was forced to open, revealing the soft insides of her thighs. She was making no effort to conceal herself. Slowly, the robe fell away from atop her legs under its own weight and began to draw apart where it rose above. She was on display now uninterrupted, from her modest blonde bush up to her gorgeous neck, save the thin band of the lilac sash loosely tied to one side. 

I feasted on this vision of her that, in the past, I had made considerable but unsuccessful efforts to attain. For a moment, our eyes met. I could see in them that she was enjoying exposing herself to me. It was obvious to me that she just loved evoking such an excited response from me. 

I started to feel a little weak in my knees. Less than five minutes ago, I was sound asleep, and suddenly, everything was happening so quickly. She seemed to recognize that I was tottering a little bit—physically and otherwise. As she lowered the seat on the toilet, in the most soothing and calm voice, she said, "How 'bout you seat yourself here, and let your momma take care of this problem? My heart is really pounding, but we aren't in any hurry," she said reassuringly. "We love to take it slow."

On her knees now, she began to slowly stroke my cock with both of her hands. She poised her beautiful lips just inches above it and slowly dribbled her spit onto the tip. As she did that, she just slightly inclined her face upward to me, and, in a voice that originated somewhere deep down in her throat, she asked as much as she said, "You know, you can touch me if you want." 

Her invitation thrilled me, and surprisingly, I reached for her neck just below her right ear. The combination of her high cheekbones and the strong angle of her jaw always allured me. With my thumb, I gently traced her ear as I slowly caressed her neck just behind her jaw. Like a cat, she extended her neck to expose her vulnerable softness. I don't know why I caressed her just there, nor whether she interpreted it to be a cue, but she then brought her mouth down to the head of my cock and began to place kiss after gentle kiss. At first, she was almost playful. Then, after adding just the tip of her tongue, she very slowly slipped her mouth over my cock, pushing all the way down until her nose was in my stomach. She paused there for a moment or two and then equally slowly withdrew my dick from her mouth, gasping a bit as she grinned with pride and stared deeply into my eyes. 

Her slow, sensuous movement caused an overwhelming and explosive surge of power to suddenly swell within me, and without warning, I began to spout powerful bursts of semen. It caught her off guard, but she quickly adjusted, opening her mouth to receive the remainder of the load. She softly and tenderly sucked on the engorged head of my penis until the flow stopped. Finishing with a gentle kiss, she looked warmly up into my eyes. Her eyes revealed a satisfaction and contentment I have never seen in anyone. 

"And you taste great too," she softly quipped as she slowly pulled away, beginning to stand upright. 

I just had to reach out and draw her to me. I was not aggressive at all, but I was firm. My face softly settled between her lovely breasts that were still concealed like soft, full cushions beneath her satin robe. 

"Yes, that was special," she said, tilting her head to look down at me. With her left hand, she drew the robe away from her breast, and with her other hand on the back of my head, she gently urged me to it. 

An intoxicating and utterly new feeling came over me. This offering was so intimate and so sensual, but it wasn't entirely erotic either. 

No other woman could possibly affect me in this way, I thought warmly. 

"Somehow," she softly said, "in spite of all this wonderful adult stuff, you will still always be my baby." 

I sensed her words as an intimate response to my unexpressed acknowledgment of the depth of our relationship. 

The way she said it left me no doubt that our new bond was privileged, unique, and complete. 

After a moment's pause and reflection, the bright smile returned to her face, and she said, "But now you'd better get done what you came in here to do to begin with. Or," she chuckled, "do you want help with that too?" 

Before drawing away, using both of her lovely hands, she held my face before her as she placed the most tender kiss on my lips and then turned back toward the sink. In an almost carefree manner, as if she were ten pounds lighter, she unceremoniously placed the cap on the toothpaste and put it on the shelf in the cabinet. Then, shifting once again her mood, she coyly turned and winked at me over her shoulder. Now heading to the door, she said without turning, "Till next time, Big boy … Maybe I can shave you?" And, as she exited and turned down the hall, she called out, "Breakfast in 30." 

As I stood there, finally able to empty my bladder, my dick looked completely different to me. It was a new instrument under her care. What adventures lay in store, I couldn't imagine. Life would now never be the same, and I was certainly ready for a shave. 

******

 After I got myself together and executed my backup plan to deal with the fact that I had a history assignment due that was not really finished, I headed downstairs for breakfast. A hot cup of coffee awaited me. This was totally new. On my plate lay an open bagel with an egg on it, and next to it, a piece of salmon, also completely new. I immediately sensed that the days of milk and Cheerios were going to be a thing of the past. From across the kitchen, she stood at the sink with her head turned to the left, looking at me, waiting for my reaction.

 Somehow, I was ready. "Looks great—and no sugar!" 

As usual, she already knew. She just nodded affirmatively and returned to the sink. 

I was starved, and it went down in no time. Taking my last sip of coffee, I left the table knowing that my ride would be here in a minute. She waited as I walked up to her from behind. As I did, she tilted her head, lifting her soft, wavy tresses away from her neck. It was on this elegant neck that I breathed the warmest kiss I was capable of. I went to her ear and whispered softly, "There are no words for how much I love you." 

It never occurred to me, as she slightly swooned to one side, that I could ever have that kind of effect on her. It took her a moment, but she recovered. Just tilting her head back and over to the side, looking from the corner of her eye, she said, "Keep that up,...