Mother's Helping Hand

A couple of days later, Karen got a long-winded e-mail from her boss, assigning her to a new project with a short deadline. She had been able to keep up with her work load while caring for Josh, that is until the new project. She found herself totally consumed in her work, leaving very little time to tend to Josh's special needs. She figured that he could wait a few days while she caught up on work in her office during the day, only emerging at meal times to help him eat.

Karen was working furiously for a few days and had barely made the time to help Josh shower, but when she did she noticed that he would start to get hard as she was undressing him. She felt bad, but she also felt the pressure of a looming deadline and skipped her usual hands-on attention.

'It's pretty warm out tonight. I think I'll skip the pajamas and just sleep in my birthday suit," Josh informed his mom as she toweled him off. He was going to try to get a little satisfaction on his own since she was too preoccupied to help him out, no matter how much he wanted her to.

"Alright dear, whatever you want." She finished drying him and smiled. "All done. Goodnight kiddo" She ruffled his hair then turned to disappear back into her office.

Josh went into his bedroom and piled his pillows up at the edge of the bed. His silky pillowcases felt so cool and smooth against his bare skin as he pressed against them, positioning himself as best he could. He slipped his still-hard cock in between his two pillows and pressed down on the top pillow with his bandaged hands to add a little resistance. He began to fuck the pillows, long, slow, tentative strokes at first. It felt good; a lot better than the scratchy bandages. But it was no substitute for his mom's expert hands. He daydreamed about her attentions for a few moments, quickening the pace of his pecker between the pillows. He hoped that he could get some satisfaction from this method, but the harder and faster he went, the more frustrated he got. He could feel his arousal building but there was just not enough stimulation from the pillows to get him to climax. He let out a loud, primal growl of a moan, flopping onto his bed in agonized defeat.

Moments later, he heard a soft knock on his door. "Is everything ok in there sweetie?" Josh grunted at his mom through the door. "I'm coming in," she said as she opened the door and peeked into the room. She saw him then, lying in his full naked glory, spread eagle on the bed with his pillows piled suspiciously next to him and his huge cock pointing to the ceiling in attention. "Oh Josh," she sighed. "I'm so sorry. Let me get the towel and the lotion. I'll be right back." She turned to leave the room.

"Mom, it's ok. I know you're busy. It's fine."

"No it's not. My son needs me, and I'll be damned if I let my boy suffer." She re-entered the room and padded over to the bed. "Sit up and swing your legs off the edge of the bed. I can take care of you right here. Lean on your pillows, make yourself comfortable, and let me help you."

He did as she suggested and settled down for some sweet relief. Karen got on her knees between his thighs and put some lotion on her hands, rubbing it between her palms to warm it. She lightly traced her fingertips up and down his shaft and he shuddered, a sigh escaping his lips.

Karen varied her technique a little this time, twisting her wrist ever so slightly with each firm stroke of her fist around his cock. She held one hand at his base while the other hand slid up toward his tip, squeezing and twisting as she moved, then she switched hands, so there was a constant pressure at his base and stroking from base to tip with a little twist at the end. Josh was in heaven. The added bonus of the twist and the continuous smooth motion, rather than jerking up and down, created entirely new and different sensations. He didn't know how his mom knew all of these little tricks, and he didn't really want to know, but he was sure glad that she did!

With each twist, Karen made sure to rub over that extra sensitive spot where the underside of his tip met his shaft. Every time she stroked it, she could feel him stiffen just a bit more in her hand. She looked down and saw his balls start to twitch. She looked at his face and saw that his head was thrown back and his eyes were rolled back in his head in ecstasy. She knew that he was about to explode all over her, but she didn't want to interrupt the stimulation to cover herself with the towel. A few more strokes and he came, his thick hot cum bubbling out of his tip and running down his shaft and her hands as she continued to stroke him, but with lighter pressure now. Karen was milking him for every drop of cum and her hands glided over his skin with the extra lubrication of his semen. He let out a satisfied sigh and a slight smile played at his lips, his cheeks aglow with a pinkish hue.

Karen removed her hands from his softening member and grabbed the towel, first wiping her hands, then gently dabbing the cum from his dick and balls and wiping it out of his pubic hair. She cleaned him up as best she could and stood.

"You need some help getting settled?" Karen asked him.

"Yeah, maybe you can just help me get my pillows situated and then I should be good. Thanks mom."

'It's not a problem. Here," She reached out to him and grabbed his arms, helping him to rise to an upright position, then she grabbed his pillows and placed them back at the head of the bed, fluffing them. She helped him adjust himself properly onto the bed and patted his leg. "Get some rest now." She smiled at him, picked up the soiled towel, and left the room, shutting off the lights as she closed the door behind her.

She tossed the gooey towel into the laundry basket, which was now getting full much more often than before. Between her shower attire, her cum stained shirts, and the sticky towels, she was doing laundry much more often than she usually had to. She chuckled to herself, "at least it's only for a little while."

As Karen headed toward the bathroom to wash her hands more thoroughly, she absentmindedly massaged the wrist of her right hand, pressing her thumb into the soft place where her wrist met her palm. She switched sides and massaged the left the same way. She didn't think much of it that night, but there was a distinct ache in her wrists as she headed off to bed. Just before her head hit the pillow, she heard a soft, rhythmic snore coming from Josh's room across the hall. She smiled, knowing that she had given her son some much needed relief and thankful that he was getting some solid rest.

Karen was beginning to see a pattern. After he'd get off he'd be sparkling and chipper for the next few days. Then his mind would start to wander, his focus was difficult and he'd grumble at the TV. He would work up the courage to 'ask for help', and so of course she would. She wanted him to be comfortable and so she would have him sit on the couch, dim the lights, kneel before him and take care of things. She had learned to bring a towel and she dedicated a ratty old tee-shirt to those nights. She got good at aiming his spunk. She learned to hold his dick at just the right angle so that the stuff would arc and land neatly on the towel. Sometimes they'd giggle, but most times he had his head back and eyes closed, reveling in his release. Then she would clean him up, and that would be that.

One night she woke up in the early morning hours. She heard the television on low. It had to be Josh, so she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. But she couldn't. He might not have been on his predicted schedule, but a mother knows that schedules don't always fall into predictions. She got up clad only in her nightgown and went to look in on him. He was sitting in the dark, the only light coming from the TV.

"Josh?" she said. "Are you alright sweetie?"

He just grunted. That was a sure sign. So she quietly went to the bathroom for a towel and the lotion. When she returned and knelt before him, he didn't resist. She was warming the lotion in her hands when she shut her eyes, shook her head and cursed herself.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Ohh," she sighed. "I am such a ninny. This is my best nightgown and my hands are all oily."

"Can't you just slip it off?"

"The oil might stain," she said. "Maybe, maybe I could use the towel . . . but - oh dear! I'm not wearing a bra!"

"Oh," he said, then thinking fast added, "well, I'll just, you know, I'll just close my eyes."

"Well, I don't know . . ."

"I promise," he said. "And when you're, like done and all I'll keep them closed till you can wash your hands and get dressed and then, you know, then everything's cool."

She looked at him a long moment.

"You promise?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Absolutely."

"Well okay then. Close your eyes."

He did. He heard her carefully wrestling the nightie off. She seemed to almost sight in relief. He lay against the back of the couch, rested his eyes and relaxed. His need that night was different. It wasn't burning. It was just - different. So when she began with the lotion he was only half hard. Her touch seemed to urge him. The way she caressed him, the way she held his balls so tenderly, working so slowly and efficiently. He began to swell in her hand.

And it was different too with his eyes closed. He had muted the TV and as he lay back seeing nothing he could relax and wallow in the marvelous sensations. And the sensations were marvelous. She was doing him with only one hand, but that hand had slid so deftly and so easily from his sack to the base of his dick. She worked her fingertips along his furry pubic area, pressing the oil all along the base and it was as if she were pressing deep into his loins. The sensations within him were almost unreal - as if the pleasure he felt on his cock was being eased into his insides. The ticklish delight was so new and so pleasant.

But the real delight came when she began on his shaft. He let go a small moan as her fingers curled and began to glide up and up. He was getting stiffer, and that in itself was a delight. And when she reached his head he was all there and all ready. But this time he wanted to hold back. He wanted to linger in his orgasm, and so despite his ache inside and the wild sensations outside, he clutched himself and suppressed his mounting joy.

And then he wanted to peek. He knew that he had promised, but he thought that if he could just catch one small quick glimpse he'd be able to hold that glimpse in his mind. And then with that image he could lay back and relax as he let go.

And so he peeked.

He didn't see much at first. She was covering herself with one hand and arm, and all he caught was a little cleavage. He shrugged inside and shut his eyes again. His urge was building.

Then she made a small noise. It was a funny noise, almost like a soft groan. She paused a moment. He instinct was to look and see if everything was okay, but in a moment she was back. But this time she was using both hands. And then the desire to look came over him again.

And so he peeked again.

He was astounded at what he saw. She held her arms with her elbows out a little so that this time they weren't pressed together and he could see almost every inch of her chest. Lit only by the light of the television her breasts seemed to flicker from soft red to dusty blue to warm yellow. They drooped just a little, almost a perfect amount. They wiggled a little as she stroked him and the scene was burned into his brain; they were so real.

She was so intent on her work that she never looked up. He was enthralled with the scene and the sensations. Her tits were so real and so alive and so wiggly. The crazy lighting made them seem almost surreal. And as she worked and stroked his climax began rising and welling. He seeped, and then he oozed, and the gleam on his knob took on those crazy colors.

He watched astonished as he came. The liquid ecstasy erupted and sent wave after wave of bliss through his body, starting from the knob of his cock, rushing down his shaft and washing through his loins enveloping him as his eyes feasted on the bliss of those tits. He shut his eyes and lay back.

Karen was glad when the boy finally released. She soothed him until his climax calmed, and then she slid away to the bathroom to wash the oil off her hands. Back in the room she quickly folded the stained towel, donned her nightie and then sighed.

"Okay," she said. "You can open your eyes now."

She saw him to bed, tossed the towel in the hamper and tried to go back to sleep. But even as she did she was haunted by the little twinges she knew all too well. In the middle of everything her hand had cramped - just a little, but it was there. She was afraid that her faltering had messed up his release, and so using both hands she redoubled her efforts. It had worked, and she almost felt as relieved as he was. But lying in the quiet of the night the pangs in her right wrist were unmistakable. And when they started on her left hand she had to try hard not to worry.