The 5 Words

The 5 words.

"I know it's a big ask. But you have been my best friend forever, and I trust you. I trust you enough to ask this."

Judy looked at me, at her salad and at me again and said, "I really don't know. This is way outside of what I have ever imagined doing. I want to help, but you are right, it's a big ask. I mean I have known him since he was a baby, he played with my children, slept over at my house, I even changed his diaper. It's a little creepy, he is like a son."

I jumped in, "that's the point! You are 'like' a mom, but not. You love him, you will care for him, and that's what this is all about, that's what I need. Someone who will care for him like I would, but able to do the 'other' stuff." Judy was clearly conflicted and I feared that this was a bad idea.

"I don't know, the whole idea feels like a big taboo." She stopped at that point and a wicked smile formed. "But.... then again, as you say, he is not my son, and I have all the things that he needs."

Hmmm, maybe this will be a little easier than I thought....

I had come to Judy for this because we have been friends forever, because she would never break my confidence and because she had always been adventurous. In college she had always had more boyfriends, as a wife she had a few affairs, and now as a middle-aged widow, I knew she would be able to rationalize what I was asking for, and the very good reasons I had, and maybe be able to do what is necessary.

I really had no idea what to do with this problem, but she seemed to be the only possible way. I had really thought about it. I considered "professional" help, but I was so worried that the experience with an escort and such a young man would mess him up even further. I also worried that it would be unclean and unsafe, that he might catch something, it just felt dirty. But mostly, I just really felt that someone close to him, someone who knew him, would get the best results. Knowing that he would be cared for was the only way I could proceed with this plan.

That lunch started off with me being as nervous as I have ever been, and then completely embarrassed by what I had asked her, and then strangely interested as we talked about her actually doing it. The past year with Jon had been the most stressful in my entire life. The day in day out concern for his mental health drove me to the edge numerous times.

For such a physically healthy and beautiful young man, he seemed to have zero ability to interact with people. He was always alone. The frustration his life was for him was nearly unbearable for me. Each evening to look into his eyes and see the confusion and sadness that made up his day forced me to consider every option out there, no matter how extreme. I was certain that if I did nothing, he would be a suicide waiting to happen, and there was no way I was going to let that happen.

What I asked Judy to consider was that he needs physical attention and affection, the kind that a mother could never give. That even his doctor is recommending more physical interaction as a way to help him deal with his condition. The research I have been doing clearly documents that physical touch and intimacy, and the connection that those can create, is very powerful for people with Jon's condition. That without that kind of intervention, he could withdraw further into himself and get lost. I pleaded with Judy that I cannot let that happen and begged her to consider helping Jon, helping me, to be with him in a way I cannot and help bring him back to me. I was trusting her with the most important part of my life.

Ever the practical one, she asked "what should I do with him?" She seemed to think I would give her a set of instructions.

I could not go there, so I just said "whatever you usually do with a guy, just don't freak him out", which caused her to laugh a little louder than she intended, drawing attention from the nearby patrons. Nerves, I assumed.

She was silent for a long minute and then simply said, "ok, I guess".

Like I said, it was a big ask for a lot of reasons.

As we completed our lunch, my begging finished and Judy somehow convinced, the deal was done and a plan worked out. I would have Jon go to her house to perform some chores, and Judy would take it from there. Well, seduce from there more like it. She promised to be gentle and caring and make the experience as perfect for him as possible. It's not that unusual,l I told myself, for an older experienced woman to introduce a young man to love. At least that is what I told myself.

It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, but I also had an odd feeling, a sensation I could not quite place about the entire experiment, like I was being sucked into something I should stay out of. I wrote it off as just the general strangeness of being this involved in something so intimate between two people who should not be being intimate at all. I hoped this would not affect our relationship because I needed her more than ever, to help Jon and to help me sort out my confused thoughts. She was suddenly the most important person in my life besides Jon.

When Jon returned home after his 'chores' at Judy's he went directly to his room and I did not see him until dinner. At dinner he was actually warm to me, and caring and interactive, a side of him I had not seen for a year. We talked about a lot of things, school, plans for college, but absolutely nothing about his afternoon. I casually asked how it went, but all I got was 'ok' and an immediate change of subject. But that did not matter as his whole outlook was improved beyond what I could have ever hoped.

A part of me did not want to know what had happened, but another part, mostly repressed by my stuffy morality and my motherly role, did. I put it off for several days, for as long as I could, enjoying my son's renewed spirits the whole time until curiosity won out. I called Judy and asked her to meet me for lunch again, for a debrief. We set up a time at our usual quite spot for the next afternoon.

I was distracted the rest of the day and the following morning to the extent that I could not concentrate or work on anything. I just had this anxious feeling, a buzzing in my head, like I was going to find out something that I did not want to know. I knew that if she got into too much detail I could stop her, but a part of me wanted to find out why this new 'therapy' worked so well.

Judy was dressed in a beautiful light summer dress and seemed to float to the table when she came in. I mentioned right away how nice she looked, how happy, and she just gave me a curious smile and sat down.

The conversation went around to other things till we had finished our lunch and were drinking the last of our bottle of wine. I suppose I had had enough wine to take off some of the nervousness, so I just asked her what was on my mind the whole time; "how was your time was with Jon?" She gave me that same smile and leaned in just a bit. I could see an intensity in her blue eyes as she began- it seems it had been on her mind as well.

"He is the most intuitive and sensitive lover I have ever had. I can't tell you how many orgasms I had with him - I lost count pretty early in the afternoon."

Ohhh, I thought, this is going to get difficult right from the start, wishing I had never asked.

She proceeded, "he was generous and gentle when needed and firm and powerful when I had to have that". I stared wide eyed, totally absorbed and simultaneously repulsed by her tale.

"There was a spell cast early that held me for the whole afternoon. We had removed our clothes and he was touching me as I tingled all over." I am sure I had a torture look on my face as she continued. "He laid me on my back on the couch in my living room and slowly slid his beautiful cock into me. I know you do not want to know, but he really is gifted in the 'down there' department. It's just beautiful, perfect". I blushed and looked around to make sure no other patrons were listening, not wanting others, or myself to hear this kind of thing about my son, yet I was not able to turn away either.

She went on, as if I could stop her now. "He had me as he slowly slid in and out, drawing each time a little deeper into me and rubbing me as he pulled back out. I came in minutes, which is a near record for me. And he just kept working me with an expertise unnatural for a young man, extending my orgasm for what seemed like forever at the time. After I finally came down I could tell the poor boy was just barely holding on, but what a trooper. He really wanted to make sure I was taken care of before he thought of himself."

"I could tell he really needed it, so I told him to go ahead. But what he did surprised me right to the edge of another orgasm. He pulled out of me, got part of the way up on his knees, grabbed his cock and he came all over me." She giggled like a teenager ,"I have never seen so much cum in my life. Just buckets of it all over my body, my face, and it seemed to just keep coming."

Those 5 words changed everything for me, "he came all over me."

As she said those words, I felt my pussy throb and get wet like a garden hose had been turned on. I was stunned, shocked at my reaction. I felt an electric charge from head to toe, became light headed from heavy breathing and nearly had an orgasm right there.

I still to this day do not know exactly what it was about those 5 words that affected me so much. 'He came all over me'. But as my story will show, it really did change my life.

I was so glad I had decided to wear a skirt because if I had pants on the flood happening in my panties would be obvious to everyone in the restaurant. As Judy sat there looking at me, I could not help squirming in my seat, rubbing myself against the cushion. I am sure my face was flush and my eyes glazed and Judy had stopped talking, and was now just staring at me.

I knew I had to say something to distract her from my reaction and the only thing that came out of my mouth was not helpful at all really. What I asked her was 'did it go in your mouth?' Stupid. Stupid.

She smiled, leaned in a little closer and said "yes, it did" and licked her lips. "And I had my second orgasm as I tasted and swallowed and ran my hands over the rest of my coated body." Looking off over my shoulder to the distance she said wistfully, "I have never had such an erotic experience in my life."

At this point, my mouth was wide open as I dry humped my chair and felt the overwhelming heat and wetness, my breathing shallow and rapid, my nipples gone hard like steel rods. My body demanded that I do something. Whatever this attack was, I had to get somewhere and deal with it before I passed out.

I made some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom, unsteadily got up and practically ran to back of the restaurant where the restrooms are. I could feel my juices running down my legs all the way there. Praying that the restroom would not be full, I flung the door open, ran to the first stall, got in and hiked up my skirt to my waist. My hand immediately jammed into my panties as I grabbed myself like I have never before.

It literally took one second. I stood there, one hand holding up my skirt, one hand fully up in me, and I came. A knee buckling orgasm that nearly brought me to the floor of the bathroom. The image of Jon spraying cum all over me burning in my brain.

On me, not Judy. That's the part that would haunt me. I can't say if I screamed or not, but I am guessing that I was not as quite as one should be when masturbating in a public place.

After I regained a little composure, and still shaking from the orgasm, I took off my panties and stuffed them in my bag. They were so soaked at that point there was no point in pulling them back up. I lowered my skirt tucked in my shirt and washed my face with some cold water. I was still panting from the orgasm, but at least thought I could hide it now. On the way out I looked into the mirror at my face, said 'ok' to myself, wondering what the hell had just happened.

As I returned to the table, Judy was there sipping her wine. When I sat she asked how I was feeling, and that she was a little worried about what came over me, but as she sat there drinking and thinking, she must have eventually understood.

"You had an orgasm, didn't you. My story about what Jon did to me really affected you, didn't it?" She stopped talking and just looked directly at me. I shifted under her gaze, uncomfortable, confused, embarrassed by my physical reaction to her story, and nothing came to mind to say. I could bring up the cum in her mouth again I suppose, but it would not help any more than the first time. So, I just returned her gaze and stared blankly.

She continued, "how long have we been friends Jeannie, 20 years? We have shared so much, and now we have shared something quite rare, something usually hidden or repressed or taboo".

I blurted out, "I can't talk about this." And then more quietly, "there was something about your story, your experience with Jon that hit some deep part of my psyche, well not really psyche, more like libido or something. I don't know what. I have never thought of him that way, and never will, but this entire situation is off the rails. I was forced to imagine you and him, the passion and intimacy, and he became a man in my mind, not a boy, and that he was so good at what he did with you." I did not mention the imagery and my place in it that brought me off in the bathroom so uncontrollably. She could never know that.

"But it wasn't just my experience that seems to have affected you. I think maybe it was your fantasy that caused you to run out of here like a cat on fire. That something about what Jon did to me that is somehow connected to a deeply buried fantasy maybe. It looked like you were shocked as soon as I said 'he came all over me'.

"Stop" I said. "Stop saying that. I am a great mother. I have never thought of my son that way, and I never will." Judy was always one to call bullshit unfortunately. She said "show me your panties."

"I have them on for christ sake Judy, and I am definitely not showing you them now."

"Let me see your purse."

"No!" I said, and I noticed at that moment she already had my purse on her lap and was opening it up. I let out a quite shriek and made a grab for the purse but she was a step ahead. She pulled out my soaking panties and put them directly on the table, mixed in with the bread crumbs and wine glasses for the whole restaurant to see.

There was no hiding the fact now. She knew it and I knew it. But her point was not to humiliate, she was too good of a friend for that, she wanted me to be honest with her about what had just happened. The problem was, I was not going to. Too much taboo, too much humiliation, and too much mom.

I was not going to openly talk about this, I was going to bury it as deep as possible and never discuss it again.

In the following weeks the image she put in my mind did not fade. There was me, covered with cum; on my firm little breasts, my flat stomach and my shaved pussy. As I reflect on the image however, there was a problem. My tummy was a little bigger currently and, I do not shave. I was consumed and distracted by that image for a long time. At times it was all I could think about and it was becoming clear that I had a problem and needed to get some control.

I finally decided that a workout routine of training and exercise could help clear the image from my mind, or distract me at least, and maybe flatten my stomach to match that image. I could get some benefit from this torment. I also started shaving my pussy. This came as a bit of surprise to me, but one evening in the shower I went ahead and did it.

As soon as I was back in my bedroom, my hands were all over it, so smooth, and I brought myself off, quietly. Jon was in the house. As I masturbated, I was careful to manage the images I was fantasizing about the best I could. I still had the image of my cum covered body, but I managed to at least blur the young man's face, which allowed me to have a much-needed orgasm without too much guilt and a lower perversion factor.

As my relentless workouts continued over the following weeks, I started to notice the effect, bringing me back to the athletic build I was used to. During one of our dinner talks, Jon even mentioned that I looked like I was training for a marathon. I smiled, thanked him and hoped he could not see the awkwardness of the topic on my face.

I kept shaving too. The reason for this I am not sure. It was so unlike me, but I just liked it.

I had begun to like how I looked. So much so that I went out and bought a mirror stand so I could get a better view of my body. The flat stomach, the bare skin, even my backside had a new shape. The strong 'V' shaped muscle lines running up from my pussy through my abs were amazing to me. When I would lean back a little the muscles would all tighten, highlighting the whole effect.

After getting the mirror set up I had an idea, clearly losing my battle with 'the image'. I went to the kitchen, mixed a little water into some mayonnaise in a squirt bottle and went back up to my room. Once there I stripped down, got the mirror in place and laid out on my bed. I took the squirt bottle and dribbled some out onto my chest and stomach, and then a little on my pussy and took a look. The vision in the mirror was pretty close to the fantasy image I had been dealing with over the last month. There I was, flat stomach, breasts and shaved pussy covered with a convincing look of semen. I began to drip as I laid there looking over myself and it did not take me long to stop resisting and reach down there. Several long strokes was all it took to bring me off, bouncing my hips on the bed and letting out a number of moans and a squeal or two. I never took my eyes off of the reflection in the mirror until I was all the way through. Then I just relaxed and closed my eyes to enjoy the endorphin rush.

A slam of the front door brought me around and I knew I had to get into the shower and wash off my 'semen' before I got caught. This process happened at least every couple of days, always the same, always powerful. I had become addicted to the image.

For 2 months after Jon's 'session' with Judy we enjoyed a great mother- son relationship. We talked, there was a little sharing of our days and things that came up, we gave each other advice and encouragement, it was great. He seemed genuinely happy, which made me happy.

Even though the image would cloud my thoughts once in a while, I was getting better at burying it deep down during the day and moving onto another subject as quickly as possible. At night, alone, it was a different story.

On occasional lunches with Judy, she would ask how I was doing with it all, but I was not going to discuss that subject and usually just said that we were fine and Jon was fine and she was the best friend in the world for helping us out the way she did.

Every once in a while, she would mention some part of her afternoon with him, but nothing she brought up ever came anywhere near the effect that those 5 words had. Which was good. If I had another reaction like that I would explode. There are not enough sit ups in the world to clear anything more from my head.

At about that 2 month mark I began noting some changes in Jon that made my worries start up again. He seemed to be slipping into a more remote guy again. Conversations were shorter, the sharing of our days and support for each other dwindled. I knew that the effect of his session would probably not last forever, I mean I wish it would, but it was unlikely. He was a young man, and really, 2 months was pretty outstanding.

I knew we were there when Jon asked one afternoon if Judy had any more projects for him. He mumbled something about needing money, but I mean, I knew. I told him I would check.