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My Last Summer with Mom

My Last Summer with Mom

by Terminal_pervert
14 min read
4.37 (17100 views)
mommothersonteachslow burn
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This is a work of fiction, intended as a sexual fantasy. The behavior in this story is not condoned or encouraged by the author. All sexual activity is engaged in by characters of legal age.

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Mom/Son - Incest - Taboo - Long Story - Buildup - Edging - Teasing - Slow Burn - Coercion - Guilt - Giving In - Love - Straight Sex - Hand Job - First Time - Kinky Mom - Graphic Sex

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With a gasp, I was suddenly very awake.

The clock on my battered old dresser said 1:23 am, and the moon dumped light through the window and across the room, pooling around my bed and near my closet and leaving the rest of the room in shadow.

The night was hot, much hotter than the one before. The box fan in the hallway evaporated the sweat off my chest and legs and gave the illusion of cool. I had fallen asleep hours earlier, lulled by the sound of the movie from the living room, something old with tinny sound and lots of cursing. The last thing I had heard as I drifted away was the sound of Mom clattering around in the kitchen and giggling at something.

Someone was standing in the doorway. I jerked upright, then recognized the soft curves of the shadow. It was Mom.

She was blocking the noise and breeze from the box fan, which had been droning continuously this entire time. That must be what woke me up. All I could see was her outline.

"You scared me!" My voice cracked.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, and I watched her shadow glide from the doorway into the room. In my relaxed, half-asleep state, it almost looked like she was shape-shifting. As she passed into the puddle of moonlight, I saw that she was wearing an oversize T-shirt that ended about mid-thigh. I didn't know what she was wearing underneath it, if anything. She was holding something small in her right hand but I couldn't make out what it was.

My heart started doing that thing again.

Mom sat down at the edge of the bed and put whatever she had in her hand on the mattress, out of sight in the darkness. Her weight tilted the mattress toward her and I slid slightly until her bare leg stopped me. Her leg was dewy with sweat and I caught a warm, musky, sweet smell. Breathing it felt almost like a drug.

"Is everything ok?" I asked.

"Of course," she said.

"What's going on?" Her smell was intoxicating. Did she normally smell like this and I just didn't notice?

Mom's hand ruffled my hair. "I saw you touching yourself last night."

Time skidded to a halt and my brain flatlined. She'd seen. She'd seen the whole thing. Who had I been fooling?

There was a long silence. Was she going to say something else? Should I say something? Was she angry? Of course she was angry, I'd done something disgusting and made her feel gross. My brain scrambled, not getting any traction.

"I'm sorry," I said, finally.

She laughed and mussed my hair again. "It's alright."

She took a deep breath. "Honestly, this is my fault. You've always been a slow developer, which is completely fine. But I've become complacent, and I haven't educated you the way I should."

I sat in dumb silence. This was... not a thing that I was expecting to happen in the middle of the night... or at all.

Mom cleared her throat. "Anyway, that means you've got some new urges and drives that you don't understand yet. I've noticed that and I've realized that I need to teach you about them, and help you take care of them."

Take care of them?

My brain was melting with embarrassment. I wished she'd leave, that I'd snap awake and realize it was just a dream. I wished I could just go back to watching Star Wars and drinking hot chocolate in the living room and I wish I could stop thinking about how good she smelled.

Dear God she smelled good.

"Anyway, I'm going to begin, ok?"

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Begin what?

She didn't wait for an answer, and gently lifted the sheet that was covering me. Before I could even wonder what she was going to do, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my shorts.

"Lift," she said shortly. Obediently I lifted my ass up and suddenly my shorts were gone and my soft, sweaty teenage bits were basking in the early autumn moonlight.

"I can tell that you're suffering," Mom said. "It's different for boys than it is for girls. Girls experience these feelings too, but our bodies aren't creating stuff that we need to get rid of like yours are."

My brain flooded with TV static. I had no idea what to say. I didn't even know what she was talking about. I felt like I was floating above my own body, watching the conversation from the ceiling. For a long moment, we sat there in silence. Then my curiosity got the better of me.

"What do you mean?" My voice sounded cracked.

Mom took a breath, choosing her words carefully. "Do you know why you have a penis?"

I had literally never thought about it before. "I guess I assumed for peeing...?"

Mom's laugh was low and kind. "Well, of course! But didn't you ever wonder why you had these?"

Her hand gently lifted my testicles, which clung to my leg in the muggy heat. Her touch startled me but her hand was soft and cool and it felt good to be relieved of the aching weight. I breathed out sharply. "Honestly sometimes."

"It feels nice, right?" she asked. "These things have been working hard, and you've had no relief. No wonder you've been so riled up."

I propped myself up a little on my elbows so I could see what she was doing. She took her other hand and gathered me up in both of her palms. My penis began to stir, even though she wasn't touching it.

"These are two endocrine glands," she said. "They produce testosterone, which is the hormone that's been responsible for all the changes in your body, like your deep voice, your muscles, and all this lovely hair!" She playfully ran her fingers through my public hair as my stomach flopped over and over with embarrassment and a strange, powerful new feeling that I couldn't identify.

"They also produce sperm, but we'll talk about that later." Her hands reached over and grabbed the thing she was holding, and I briefly saw that it was a jar of coconut oil from the kitchen. "Your body mixes the sperm with fluid from another gland in your abdomen, and unfortunately it makes all this stuff whether you want it to or not. And it builds up and builds up and it needs somewhere to go."

She took the lid off the jar with her right hand and then scooped out a gob of oil, which was almost a liquid from the heat. She set the jar on my bedside table and started loosening it up in her hands.

Nervous butterflies started to fill my gut. "What's that for? What are you doing?"

She shushed me as if I were a skittish horse. "Hush. You're fine." Her hands took hold of my testicles again, and she started to massage them gently, rubbing the oil into the loose skin.

My mouth ran dry and blood flooded into my penis. Her hands felt.. they felt like nothing I'd ever felt before. She kneaded and massaged my testicles, purposefully, as if she was checking the wiring on a car's ignition. "Oh honey. These are so full. I'm so sorry."

The sweetness in her voice was like gasoline on a kitchen burner and I watched in dismay as my penis began to harden in earnest.

"There he is!" Mom's voice was soothing. "I'm about to show you what this really does." She laughed. "It's so much better than just peeing."

She gently released my testicles and grabbed another gob of oil, warming it so it melted in her hands. "Your penis is full of what we call 'erogenous tissue,'" she explained. "See how it gets hard? It's because you're aroused."

My erection intensified until I felt like the rest of my body was empty of blood. I saw her eyes on it as she adjusted position and I saw the outline of her nipples, rock hard against the fabric of her T-shirt. I couldn't tear my gaze away. The musky sweet smell, noticeable before, began to dominate my senses. I could barely speak.

"... aroused?"

"Yup, basically, it sleeps when you're not using it. And then it wakes up. See?"

She traced a single finger along the front of my engorged cock, from root to tip. I saw lightning. "The most sensitive erogenous tissue tends to be up toward the front and top."

I felt her oily hands close around me and she gave a few quick strokes. I gasped, completely involuntarily. My testicles, formerly slack from the heat, tightened.

Mom's voice was velvety and low. "Oooh, you like that, don't you?"

I nodded. I had completely lost my ability to speak.

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Mom's oily hands ran up and down the now impossibly taut shaft of my cock and she shifted position on the bed. As she moved, I saw her breasts sway underneath the T-shirt and I felt my eyes lock onto them. I couldn't look anywhere else.

Mom noticed my gaze and smiled a little, her hands still holding me but not moving. "What are you looking at, sweetheart?"

I felt my face turn hot and I looked away. Mom's oily finger gently lifted my chin. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Want to see?"

I wanted to see so badly, but I couldn't form words. The most I could manage was a short, stiff nod.

Mom wiggled backward and pulled the T-shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere behind her. She was wearing absolutely nothing underneath it. Her breasts were suddenly in full view, round and full and heavy, with nipples significantly larger than mine, hard and raised in a way mine never were. Without my permission, I felt my eyes graze her body, from the arch of her neck and chin, to her breasts, to the smooth shape of her belly, down to...

... to whatever was between her legs. It was still shrouded in darkness as she sat.

This was the first time in my life that Mom didn't chide me for staring. She smiled, almost girlishly. "Like what you see?" Tilting her shoulders back, she wiggled her body a bit and her breasts swayed deliciously from side to side, heavy but somehow firm and perky at the same time. I felt wetness between my legs and when I looked down, my erect penis oozed with clear fluid.

"Your body is responding to mine, exactly as I hoped it would." Mom slid closer to me and I smelled the warmth of her chest and neck. "Want to touch them?"

I did. She took my hand in her oily fingers and gently guided it forward until it was cupping her right breast in my palm. It was heavy and warm, and the feeling of it sent lightning bolts through my chest and abdomen. I felt her heart beating and in that moment I realized that, despite her exterior calm, she was excited too. She put her hand in my hair, like she had done a thousand times, and pulled me gently close to her face. Her breath smelled like wine.

"What I'm about to show you is going to bond us closer than anything ever has, ok?" Her voice was deeper than I'd ever heard it be, more guttural. I nodded. I felt like I should be nervous, but my brain was full of clashing cymbals.

Mom let go of my head and slid off the bed, kneeling back on her heels. She beckoned at me, and her voice was suddenly full of command. "Sit up and move to the edge of the bed."

I felt myself complying and awkwardly pushed myself over to the side of the mattress until I was staring down at her. She looked into my eyes as her hands melted more coconut oil.

"Now, I'm going to release this pressure inside you." She took my penis in her oily hands and began stroking it. The pleasure fired through me like lava and my back involuntarily arched. "It's not going to feel like anything you've ever experienced, but I promise you're going to like it. But even if you didn't, it's something we would need to do regularly, ok?"

I said nothing, just grunted like an animal at her touch. Mom's hands moved methodically, expertly, twisting and turning. I felt something building inside of me, moving up from my abdomen against my will. I started to panic, and jerked away a little.

"Be still!" Her voice was stern. "This is already going to be messy, you've been building up for weeks. Let's not make it worse." Her hands both twisted slowly as her beautiful brown eyes locked with mine. The pleasure coursed through me and my mouth opened to let out a guttural moan.

"

That's

my boy," Mom cooed. "We're so close." She pushed her warm body between my knees until she was directly under me. "It's going to be ok. I promise. Just let it happen."

I couldn't fight it anymore. My body clenched harder than it ever had, my vision went blurry, and a thick, hot rope of semen spurted out of my erect cock and all over my mother's breasts.

"That's a good boy," Mom cooed. "That's it, let it out. There's so much. No wonder you've been so cranky!"

Tears welled into my eyes and I whimpered uncontrollably like a puppy as Mom kept stroking, watching the thick liquid gushing out of me onto her cleavage. Under any other circumstances I would have been horrified, but in that moment I felt only relief. Slowly, as if from a great distance, I heard my own voice whimpering. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart." Mom's voice was dark and low and sensual. I took another glance at her breasts and the sheer volume of semen on them made my stomach twist, giving me feelings that I didn't fully understand. I closed my eyes and felt her hands slowly squeezing and twisting me, working the last drops out.

"You're a stud!" Mom stared up at me, completely drenched in my seed. She seemed genuinely impressed. "If you were a horse we'd have to put you out to breed."

For some reason that was simultaneously the most degrading and most arousing thing anyone has ever said to me.

There was a long pause and I felt my body relaxing more deeply than it ever had in my life. Mom continued to look up at me, slowly letting out long breaths. At first I thought she was calming me down, then I realized she was calming herself down. The room stank of hormones and lust.

"Feel better?" She grabbed my shorts from the floor and started wiping herself off.

Physically, I felt better, but also mortified beyond anything I'd ever felt. I slid back on the bed, repulsed by what my body had just done without any input from me whatsoever. My penis, still oily from her hands, rapidly softened. I dove into the pillows and hid my face.

I felt Mom's hand on my back, gently rubbing my shoulder, and heard the soft sound of her voice singing.

Within moments I was sleeping the sleep of the dead.

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