My Jimmy was being a typically withdrawn teenager.
I let my mind wander over the years as I thought about him.
He'd been a lovely child to bring up; always polite and thoughtful, helpful and loving and there were times when I'd seriously considered producing another child to keep him company. But then the idea had faded as I'd grown to enjoy 'his' company; the contact between us being warm and loving although not cloying.
Jimmy sailed through his school years with remarkably few ripples and his life always seemed to be full – but as time had gone on he'd become less involved with others – presumably, I guessed, because he had to work hard to study effectively. His early days of learning had been easy whereas now the lessons were tougher and more demanding. But he'd kept going at a steady if unexciting rate, grinding out the years of learning.
Sure he was diligent enough to go to college and to study hard but that seemed to be about the limit of his current capabilities. It was fairly obvious that he'd eventually leave college with enough skills to find himself a job but I just knew that it would be a fairly average job – he gave no indication of becoming a whiz-kid or a high-flyer – on the contrary, he currently seemed to aiming at becoming a recluse.
Jimmy needed something to drive him forward; something to turn him into a proper adult and one of those things was a need to communicate.
In many ways he was a normal teenager and yet he seldom seemed to be surrounded by friends, not even girls. Instead of partying constantly he seemed to prefer to stay at home, alone.
For example, while he studied he shut himself in his room, quietly and peacefully. At least he didn't seem to smoke or do drugs and seemed to work hard at his studies. So far so good but his social life just didn't seem to exist and it was pretty obvious to me that when he left studying behind, his social skills would remain at rock-bottom. It most probably would come about that he'd get a job eventually, but he'd never know how to act around other people and he'd even told me that it was hard to make friends with fellow students. It wasn't that he was stupid or in any way defective but he seemed to have spent too much time joined at the hip to his books and his studies.
He needed to diversify; to mix studying with emotional and social development – but how...
I sat that evening and mulled the problem; one that many a mother must have faced.
As a single mom in my early-40s I was mature enough to have kind of 'been there – done that' as they say. I'd survived college and the partying and come out unscathed, entering the world of commerce as a designer and lifestyle-planner – a strange title perhaps but basically I used my innate skills and combined my eye for a good design with a psychiatric remodelling of my client's life; his or her way of living – a touch of feng shui perhaps, that seemed to work.
With my help, their home would look fantastic and their life would become more complete, more relaxing and probably more financially stable as well. Or that's more or less what I offered and it worked for me – certainly I was never short of customers, all of them willing to pay good money for my skills.
And so I always dressed alluringly and tried to look affluent and it seemed to work; well, that and my ability to twist men around my little finger and now I was more or less where I wanted to be; head of my own (albeit relatively small) business and head of my own family. Perhaps I could use some of my skills to help Jimmy.
I'll be honest and say that the only reason that I brought a man into my life was to get pregnant – well, that and the other benefits that a nice big strong penis can bring to a woman when needed, of course! Mind you, once I'd bought some rather interesting vibrators even the allure of a penis waned somewhat.
I'd caught with my baby within three months of my first steady 'fling', timing my pregnancy to suit myself so that I carried my son during the winter months rather than the hot summer. And I ended my relationship with my partner once his sperm had successfully met my egg – my own income being quite adequate to see me through my child's upbringing.
It was a good set-up so far as I was concerned; the one irritation being that I had no regular man to soothe my itches for a number of years but once those first few year of motherhood had passed I soon found men once more; but only for sexual pleasures and entertainment. My growing son gave me all the entertainment and amusement I needed otherwise...
And so here we were, some eighteen years down the line. I'm older now; well, I'm 42 this year and Jimmy was 18 this last spring and he's done well enough so far. Jimmy obviously has many of his father's good genes; a tall frame with enough flesh on his bones to pad him out nicely. He's blond with blue eyes and yes, I'll admit that his father had Nordic connections – hence the similarity. He's still got a fair few of my genes; those cheeky smiling eyes that I apparently have for example but I'm pleased to say that my lips are plumper than his and I have more of a cupid's bow shape to my lips than he does.
Jimmy also has grown a scattering of hairs on his chest but thank God I haven't! Instead I carry a proud pair of nice smooth well-padded boobs, well, breasts seems to be the better word and sizeable ones they are too! I'm a 38C up top and I often snigger to myself when I get aroused because I swear that I become a 40C thanks to my finger-tip sized nipples that stick out so eloquently. Mind you, they can feel a tad heavy sometimes but I absolutely love the way a gentle swaying of my breasts can cause men to lose their minds – to become pliant and malleable; to agree to almost anything! Talk about mind control – its tit control actually and it makes me laugh sometimes!
Ok – occasionally the tits don't work, in which case I only need to adjust my stockings on my long legs or allow my ass to roll – something akin to what they call twerking and the man is mine. Shallow creatures – but so useful!!
Speaking of useful, it's not just their strength and occasionally their 'clout' that's useful, it's their third leg, their cocks, that I find so enjoyable. There's nothing nicer than to have one of their steaming hot tools pressing me into the mattress or for one to be pointing skyward for me to sink down onto as far as I want it to go. Makes me squirm and get wet just thinking about it...
And it looks as if Jimmy's tool will match some of those instruments too – some young female will appreciate his extendable chunk of flesh one day. How do I know that he's well equipped? Well, because I've seen it hanging there in his shorts; visible when he hadn't realised...and I can't help my wandering eyes!
Sorry – I've been digressing...
Anyway, the day when he gets some female going seems far off, if Jimmy's dour lack of interest in anything female or even just human is anything to go by, which is where I need to come in. Someone somewhere needs to teach him a fair bit about interactions with the opposite sex...a birds-and-bees talk is looming.
Oh, don't tell me that I should have done it many years ago – because I did. He and I had gone through the usual words when he was just entering puberty but although he understood well enough, it didn't mean a whole lot to him then – how's a young man supposed to comprehend things like orgasms, pregnancy and diseases when he's never come across any of them? So we'd covered his development and other embarrassing things and left it at that with me planning to update him some years later...and now was the time.
It was one peaceful evening in July that the moment struck. I'd had a busy week and had managed to find myself free of all business and social commitments that late Friday afternoon and realised that Jimmy was still in his room as usual. His academic year was at an end too so he had time to relax, or at least he should be relaxing – and who better to relax with than his mother. All of which said to me that I could use the occasion to sit down with him to check out his sexual awareness, to bring him up-to-date so to speak and to see if I could help with his social life too.
I stood up and stretched as I considered how I should behave; should I be just his mother or should I act like a potential girlfriend or even as a healthcare advisor... Sometimes a change of mood helps.
My stretching did two things though. Firstly as I pulled my shoulders straight it caused my breasts to rise and tighten; the movement of my skin on my bra making the shape of my nipples visible and secondly my pussy seemed to twitch and spasm as my thighs moved together. I grumbled to myself as I realised that I'd not been laid for some six months and then chuckled as I realised that just the thought of talking to a young man about sex was enough to arouse me.
I smoothed my short skirt and my thin top – neither action doing anything to calm me down – then headed down to my son's bedroom, a huge breath of anticipation filling and emptying my lungs.
"Oh well, here goes!" I muttered to myself as I gathered my wits about me outside his door.
I was about to knock when I heard a noise inside and I stopped; my hand raised and ready to knock but poised as I listened.
There was a conversation going on or at least some indistinct talking and for a moment I thought that Jimmy had sneaked a girl into his room but then I realised that he was watching his TV.
