Mom's Here for You Baby

Everyone, I suppose, has their embarrassing moments, but when I find myself in that type situation it’s usually a doozey. My name is Charles and I am a 20-year-old junior at the local university. I certainly don’t need my mother taking care of me anymore, but life has its way of reorganizing priorities with or without a person’s consent.

For example, I was involved in a stupid automobile accident in which I broke my right leg and dislocated a shoulder. I am practically helpless in my mother’s opinion so she has come to the aid of her infirmed son. My leg, the broken one, is usually elevated in a traction harness, but I am allowed to let it rest on the mattress for short periods of time. I usually reserve this luxury for the time when Marlene, my mother, gives me my sponge bath

In the beginning this intimacy posed no problem because I was in constant annoying pain, and that fact alone occupied my attention. Meanwhile, Marlene was becoming very adept with her nurse’s aide duties. She had some errands to run today so she didn’t arrive back at my bedside until after lunch. It had been a week now since the accident so the pain in my leg had either subsided, or I had coped with the nuisance long enough to simply ignore its existence.

“Hi, Charlie. How’s my young man doing today?” I honestly believe she had that exact remark on tape so she could replay it each time she arrived.

“I’m fine, Mom. How’s your day going?” I didn’t have a tape recording, but I could have used one.

“Just dandy,” she chirped. “I put my entire motherly principles aside today and purchased some men’s magazines for you to read. The clerk in the bookstore, a cute little blonde, said these were the most popular.” She hesitated and then added, “I wished I could get your father to try some of those things with me, but you know him well enough to know he would never consider such a thing. Oh well,” she said dismissing the thought. I noticed that her breathing had deepened and her face was flushed.

I took one of the magazines from the bed beside me, and aimlessly flipped through the pages. Naturally, being the virile young man I am, I paused at some of the more explicit pictures. I could feel my pecker getting puffy.

“Mom,” I pretended to be outraged. “Have you looked at these pictures?”

“A few,” she admitted shyly.

“This is what some people use to get turned on, Mom.”

“Does it work for you?”

“In the proper frame of mine, yes it does.” I responded truthfully.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed putting her fingers to her cheek, “I almost forgot to tell you.” “What?” I cried. “Will they have to amputate this worthless leg?”

“No silly,” Mom huffed. “They’re going to let you go home this afternoon. We have an ambulance scheduled for four o’clock.”

“Now that’s good news, young lady,” I said reflecting my exhilaration at the news. “Maybe now I can get everyone to quit wet-nursing me.”

“Not exactly, Charlie,” she said in a guarded tone. “That means I will have to do all of the wet-nursing as you call it.”

“Mom,” I exclaimed, “that was when all of this was new, and I was in a great deal of pain. I’m getting too old for you to be messing around me like I was still your baby boy.”

“I don’t see the difference, but we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” The expression on her face convinced me she was determined to do what needed to be done. I left it at that.

I have always tried to give credit where credit is due, and this was just such an occasion. The EMS crew negotiated the ambulance all the way to my house without hitting all of the check holes and speed barriers along the way. I was so thrilled at getting out of that God-forsaken hospital that I didn’t mind at all the few they did hit. They even got me from the gurney to my own bed without damaging incident.

After some of my best diplomacy and some begging, I convinced Mom that I would be just fine in my room alone for a while. I even convinced her that this would be an ideal time for one of those bubble baths she enjoyed so much. I had over two hours of heavenly solitude before I heard Mom approaching my bedroom door. She tapped lightly, and poked her head in the door.

“It’s just me, Charlie,” she said cheerfully. “May I come in?”

“You’re the warden,” I said trying not to sound too sarcastic. “I’m the inmate.”

“Now Charlie,” she said sounding a little put out at my tone. “Let’s both try to make the best of the situation, shall we?”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said sincerely. “I’ve just been flat of my back for nearly ten days now, and it is about to drive me to jacking off,” I said before I realized what I had said.

“That bad, huh?” she said as she approached the bed. “Anything I can do?”

“Not really,” I said allowing my self pity to ooze out a bit. Then I noticed how Mom was dressed. Apparently she had taken my advice on the bubble bath, and when she got out of the tub she had slipped into her three-quarter length terrycloth bath robe. I had seen my mother wearing this garment on a dozen occasions, but today I saw this rather attractive woman in her late thirties in the same robe only this time I noticed the swell of her breast making the neckline of the robe gape open and the fullness of her buttocks causing me to imagine all sorts of naughty things.

“Well, this is your dad’s bowling night. He’s already gone for the evening. We won’t see him until midnight or after,” she reminded me. “So do you want dinner first or your bath?”

My mind was still concentrating on how that skimpy bathrobe looked on my mom. “Uh, I’m not at all hungry, Mom.”

“Okay then. Bath it is.” She said and went about preparing for the chore as though she had done this all of her life. She lifted my broken leg gently, unhooked the tension bar, and lowered my leg, cast and all, to the bed’s surface. Then she drew the drapes, and went over to the wall mounted light fixture. It was one of those models that allowed you to regulate the brightness of the light. It was getting dark outside, so as she dimmed the lights the room became darker and darker. “Dark enough?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I said gratefully, “but you don’t have to go to all of this trouble, Mom.”

“Tell you what, young man,” she started as she moved the rolling bed table holding a bowl of warm water and some liquid soap closer to his bedside. I have a dimly lighted room and a handsome young man at my mercy. I’m going to lather his entire body with warm sudsy water, and, if the notion strikes me, I’m going to play with his privates. If that’s trouble, I’ll go there every time.” She was smiling but her cheeks were flushed.

“Are you okay, Mom?” She had me totally off guard.

“Let’s get rid of that robe, mister.” She was making sure our eyes didn’t meet.

As I felt the warm soapy cloth make circular motions over my body, I devoted all of my concentration to keeping my pecker relaxed. I felt the desire all the way to my balls as she went about her wet nurse duties. She must have heard me as I tried desperately to muffle my moans.

“You might as well relax, Charlie,” she said without deviating from her circular motions. “I plan to wash your soldier until I get all of the stress and tension out in the open. You can work with me or against me.”

Bewildered yet sexually aroused, I lay back on the bed and enjoyed the bath as I felt the soapy washcloth move closer and closer to my crotch. I closed my eyes and pretended I didn’t realize my hand was inching toward the hem of her bath robe. I could hear her breathing louder, or was it me breathing. It was both.

As the soapy hand moved to my crotch, my cock was unable to do anything but rise to meet the oncoming assault.

“Oh my,” I heard her whisper as my shaft rose proudly. Her second hand was resting menacingly on my inner thigh while the soap hand was at the base of my manhood. My hand was inching its way up her leg and under her robe. She moved closer to the bed. My hand inched upward. Her soapy hand was scrubbing my cock vigorously. My hand found a nude and wet pussy.

“Oh Charlie,” she moaned. “You have a beautiful cock.” She squeezed the soapy cloth tighter around my pole. My fingers fondled her pussy. “Feel it inside, Charlie. Please.” Her breath was hoarse with arousal.

I reached over and pulled the bow of her sash loose and watched the robe fall open. She turned partway to my face to either show me what the terrycloth was hiding, or to give me a better vantage point for finger fucking her pussy. It didn’t matter what her reason was; the important thing was her action. Her free hand slowly moved up my thigh until her fingers were fondling my balls. My early warning system was sounding every alarm on the circuit.

Mom could feel my cock begin to throb. “My clitoris, Charlie,” she gasped. “Pinch my clit.”

I did as I was told, and Mom immediately began to pound her crotch against the side of my bed. I added another finger to her pussy hole causing her to increase her moaning.

Like precision clockwork when my roman candle began to shoot off, Mom began her generous contribution to the festivities. My semen shot every where. Mom’s oozed down her legs and my hand.

As the glory began to subside, Mom leaned toward me and offered one of her glistening breasts, I sucked in the hardened nipple and caressed her magnificence as if it was the most delicate substance on Earth, More moans from and more massaging of my dwindling manly pride.

Mom cleaned up my privates paying particular attention to my limp dick. Then she handed the washcloth to me.

“Do me.” She said softly with the loveliest smile I had ever seen on her face. She spread her legs and hunched her crotch toward me.

An hour later she returned with my dinner. “Hungry?” she asked cheerfully.

“Have you ever had oral sex?” I asked boldly.

“Have I what?” she cried.

“Have you ever sucked Dad’s cock, or has he ever eaten your pussy?”

“Charlie.” She cried with questionable indignation. “I’m your mother.” “You’re also a strikingly beautiful woman with lovely breasts and a soft, fuzzy pussy that I would like to know better.”

“Charlie, you’re embarrassing me?”

I wasn’t really listening to her argument. I was quickly leafing through one of the magazines she had bought for me. Eureka! I found it.

“Mom,” I said enthusiastically, “let’s do this.” I showed her a picture from the magazine of a man and a woman doing the 69 position.

She looked at the picture in total amazement. Then she mumbled under her breath. “I could never get you father to do that.”

“I’m not your husband, Marlene,” I said softly, “I’m that horny little kid from upstairs that is ready to fuck you every way imaginable.”

“You talk nasty, Charlie, but I think I like it.” She took one more good look at the picture in the magazine, dropped her terrycloth robe, and carefully crawled up on the bed. A nude woman mounting me in this manner was enough to get me aroused. By the time she got in position, I was as hard as a bone. When I got to where I was in a position to devour her pussy, I discovered I wasn’t the only aroused one in the crowd.

I buried my face in the thoroughly saturated crotch above me just as I felt her mouth slide over the head of my dick. I was no veteran pussy eater, but for a woman whose husband wasn’t keen on oral sex, she was no stranger to a cock in her mouth.

The fact that neither of us was much more than novices at oral sex, our orgasms were not long in coming. We linger after our climaxes just to enjoy the novelty of our surroundings. This was the first time my mother had given her son a blowjob, and this was the first time I had ever spent such a lapping good time between my mother’s legs.

Mom stayed naked while she wiped me down with a damp cloth. Then she leaned down and kissed me on the lips. This was not a bedtime smooch from Mom to son; this was a passionate kiss where Mom shared her tongue with me for long periods of time, and allowed me to do the same with her. All of this affection was causing my cock to become excited again. When Mom saw this she laughed and shook it playfully.

“I have plans for that big lizard, Charlie, but let’s take it one day at a time.”

“Okay, but don’t hold me to one session each day.”

“Not a word to your dad,” she said softly as she closed his bedroom door. Seconds later the door opened again, and Mom tiptoed back into the room and collected her bathrobe. “This may come in handy.”