What I'm about to describe for you happened during the 60's when I was a teenager. It was a crazy time for me. I had just turned 18 and all I could think about was sex it seems. My cock was constantly hard and it was very frustrating for me. I knew nothing about sex and the only available insight came from magazines. They weren't designed to teach you about sex however. They were the only way you could see a naked woman and dream what it would be like to be with one or touch them.
Looking back, I realize that I wasn't even knowledgeable enough to know how to masturbate to help relieve the pent up frustration. I know it felt good to squeeze my hard-as-nails cock, but I simply didn't know that I could have jacked off and received temporary relief. Instead, I took to humping my bed or pillow while imagining a nude girl beneath me which just added fuel to my fire.
It's all I could think about, but luckily nature revealed to me, quite by accident, that if you kept pulling on your cock long enough you'd find that eventual release your mind and body craved.
The first time I ever had an orgasm, it felt wonderful, but shocked me too. It felt like I was going to piss all over the place but I was incapable of stopping my hand. As I waited for my stream of piss to begin I ejaculated a stream of cum half way across my room. I remember some talk about cum and correctly deduced that this white slimy goo that came out of the same hole my piss came out of, was, in fact, cum. I was elated to find a release valve for the pressure I'd felt for so long.
After my first orgasm, I found myself jacking off nearly ten times a day for the next three months. What a feeling! I couldn't get enough and there was no better feeling than cumming. Now whenever I saw a nude pic or anything that was remotely sexual in nature, I knew that at least I could use it later with satisfaction.
I was a nice looking kid, but I was terribly insecure when it came to girls. I lived alone with my mother and she had been divorced when I was 2 years old, so I really had no father figure to give opinions from a male perspective. Mom had bad dealings with most of the men in her life, and a lot of it turned out to be trouble of her own making.
Mom was a very attractive 38 year-old. She had short dark hair and fair skin. Her 36C tits were enhanced by her small frame and her ass was heart-shaped. Her stomach looked as if she'd never had kids. In spite of these attributes, she was pretty much an introvert. She lived off State Aid and did some sewing jobs that met our needs just barely.
Growing up, she was always telling me how she hoped I'd turn out differently than most men. All they wanted was sex by her accounting. She told me women didn't really like sex for the most part and only did it to pacify the husband or to procreate. I found myself feeling guilty about the feelings I had concerning girls and would mentally chastise myself for being like the men my mother told me about, so my early years of puberty were extremely disconcerting.
Mom basically didn't date for years. It was just the two of us for the most part and growing up we were always casual in our attire around the house. As I neared graduating high school, I started seeing my mother in a different light as the hormones began kicking into overdrive. I saw her naked a few times in the past, but until now I never really saw, or considered her in a sexual way. If anything, the very idea of mom and sex was repugnant to me.
We would sometimes ride our bicycles across town to my aunt and uncle's house and a guy driving by would give her a cat call or whistle and I would literally be sickened at the notion that someone could even see her in a sexual light. Although I was 18 at the time and understood that she was an attractive woman, I couldn't wrap my head around someone ever seeing her as desirable sexually. "Hey, you sick fuck, that's my mother for Christ's sake," was what came to my mind whenever that happened.
That all changed one night when I woke up sick to my stomach. I jumped out of bed and burst into the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up into the commode. Mom was taking a bath at the time and was lying low in the water. I saw her jump with a start just as I was doing my nose dive into the john.
"Mike, you can't just"...but she quit talking when she saw my problem. She was concerned about me and stepped out of the tub and began consoling me, holding my forehead in her hand as I heaved my guts out. She knelt next to me, still naked, and held me until I was through. Then she guided me to the sink to wash out my mouth and splashed water on my face.
She grabbed a towel, but instead of covering up, she dried my face with it, put her arm around my waist and led me back to bed, still naked. She sat on the bed with me a few moments just wiping my sweaty forehead as I looked at her bare tits through squinted eyes. Then she got up and walked to my closet to get an extra blanket for me. I saw her incredible ass as she walked away and her hair covered pussy as she returned. In spite of how sick I felt, my cock started to harden.
When she sat down on my bed again, I asked, "Will you lay with me for just a minute?" I was using my illness to prolong my unadulterated view of her body. She seemed to hesitate until I put my arm around her waist and moved my head to her lap. I remember my nose coming into contact with her pussy hair and I was in heaven. She reached across me to pull up my blanket more and her tit pressed into my ear as I felt my cock jump. Her movement pushed my nose even closer to her pussy and I will never forget the smell of her.
Shortly after that, she lifted my head to my pillow and stretched out next to me above the blankets. I just looked at her tits and and her flat belly before she covered herself with the towel she'd used on me before drifting back off to sleep. I was terribly conflicted while committing to memory my first up-close vision of a naked woman.
Later I felt the bed move as she moved to leave my room. I barely opened my eyes and saw her great ass as she disappeared around the corner outside my room.
After that episode, I found myself constantly looking down her blouse or trying to see her panties when she was lying down with just a robe on. I was obsessed with seeing more of her.
She loved to put her legs on me when she lay on the couch. I'd start to rub her legs and she would moan and tell me how good it felt and would eventually fall asleep. I would keep rubbing her but my hand was going ever higher as I would push the bottom of her robe up until I could see her panties. My cock would become so hard it ached, but I didn't want to get up and maybe screw up staring at her pussy. When she woke up my head would be turned toward the TV and she'd get up and go to bed. I'd jack off and cum 30 seconds later. Then I'd jack off about 3 more times before going to bed myself.
Every great once in a while, she'd be invited out with a couple girl friends to go to some bar to watch a band that was playing. She usually came home feeling no pain and her attitude toward me always seemed more amorous. She'd marvel at how tall I was getting and tell me what a stunning man I was becoming. I'd asked her if she met any nice guys out there and she'd tell me a few bought her drinks and how some would try to get her to go out to their cars.
"Does it make you feel attractive?"
"If they're nice to me, sometimes it does."
"Well, I'm a nice guy and I can tell you that you're more attractive than any of my friends' mothers."
"Aww, you're so sweet to say that."
"Hey, Mom, I mean it. That's not BS I'm giving you here."
"Man, I'd love to find a man out there that's even close to the man you're becoming."
"Thanks, Mom. I wish Julie felt the same way you do."
"Why? What happened? I thought she liked you."
"So did I. She told me I need to work on my kissing and that it left a lot to be desired. She said it in front of some other girls and they all started laughing. I was embarrassed so I just left."
"That was a cruel thing for her to do, Mike."
"I suppose."
"Really! I mean it. What's so terrible about your kissing?"
"I don't know. She said I keep my lips too hard and that I don't use my tongue. Hell, I didn't even know a tongue was used in kissing."
"It's called a French kiss, sweety."
"Now see, I've never even heard of that."
The entire kissing story was bull shit. I just thought that if I could get her talking about sexual matters, she'd be inclined to be more open with me and maybe let me know what girls like and explain how to do things.
"How did you kiss her?"
"The same way I kiss you. Anyway, I guess I won't be getting to kiss any more girls once word gets around. I mean, where do you go to take lessons?" I asked facetiously.
She seemed to be thinking of what to say next.
"Now look, Mike. You can never say anything about this to anyone."
"I don't plan to."
"No, I don't mean that. I could probably teach you how to kiss a girl, but you could never say a word of it to anyone."
"Why would I do that? I mean, you can't exactly brag about how your mother taught you how to kiss."
She laughed at that. "Good point. Okay, why don't you show me how you kissed her," she said as she moved closer to me.
I put my arm around her shoulders and laid the most God-awful kiss on her I could imagine. Her lips were soft and the booze and mint gum were on her breath, giving me a start on a hard on. I kissed her for about three seconds and then sat back.
