"Hello, Noah. Ms. Andreas." Dr. Diaz nodded toward us. I sat indignantly in her office, eyes fixed on the floor. The reason for my discomfort sat nonchalantly beside me, the mature, yet perky-looking woman that was my mother.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Diaz." She greeted, reaching out to shake her hand with a smile.
"The pleasure's all mine. Pleasure is my specialty, after all."
My mom had been pushing me to see a sex therapist for a few months now. When I finally agreed, I thought that was humiliating enough. But when she forced me to let her listen in on the session, I had been mortified. Yet, even as a 19 year old, she still had the final say over my decisions. So, there I sat, as the two older women spoke openly about me like I wasn't even there.
"Right. Onto business then. What exactly have you come to see me for?"
"Well, see, Noah is such a wonderful boy. Gets good grades, stays in shape, has plenty of friends. But... I'm a little concerned about his... business downstairs."
"It's really not that big a deal, Mom."
"Like Hell it isn't! Dr., you would not believe how many girls I watched him bring home back in high school, only for them to storm out of the house from his bedroom!"
"I see. And, what is this... 'business downstairs' exactly?"
"He cannot, for the life of him..."
"Mom..."
"...for the LIFE of him, keep himself from cumming. It's like he has no self-control. Every morning I find stray, crusty, tissues littered in the craziest places."
"Mom!" I finally shout, glaring at her. "That's enough! I'm telling you, I'm FINE. I don't need help. I don't need therapy!"
She flashed a stern look back, but then sighed, reaching out to gently grasp my shoulder.
"Noah, listen. You know I'm only doing this because I'm worried about you. I remember being a young sorority girl. How my friends and I would relentlessly tease boys like you. I can't even tell you how bad it was for boys who couldn't last even a minute in bed before firing at the hip. I don't want that to happen to you. And I don't want you touching yourself all day, every single day."
My face felt hot. I couldn't really argue with her. It was humiliating having to end every sexual encounter only a few minutes in.
"Hmm." The doctor hummed. "By chance... is there a Mr. Andreas to speak of?"
"No." My mother replied, before sheepishly shrugging. "I'm... actually not even sure who the father is."
Dr. Diaz laughed. "Oh, a woman like you? That doesn't surprise me. Too many men to count, right?" The two women laughed together now. My jaw hung slightly open at how brazenly my mother had just admitted to being a slut. In front of me no less.
"Well..." Dr. Diaz continued. "In that case, I believe I have a treatment that could work for him."
"Really?" My mom excitedly asked.
"It's... experimental. But it's been a major success for every patient I've had so far. I think it's worth a try."
"We're doing it." She answered on my behalf. I rolled my eyes, resigning myself to her decision.
{-----------------------------------------------}
I'm not sure what exactly I expected from an experimental sex therapy. I guess I assumed my mom being there meant it wasn't something too embarrassing. But to my dismay, the doctor had me strip, right there in her office, with both ladies watching.
The chill, clinic air made me shudder as I pulled my shirt over my head. And then again as my pants fell to the floor. I stepped out of them, suppressing a blush as I stood dressed in just my boxers before my mother and that cougar of a therapist. But as my eyes darted up for approval, I was met with stern gazes back.
"She said everything, Noah." My mother tapped at her crossed forearm.
My blush finally broke through, as I slipped my fingers under my boxers' waistband, sheepishly slipping out of them too. My hands gripped my sides, knowing the berating I'd get if I tried to cover my shame.
Dr. Diaz collected my discarded clothes, putting them up in a cabinet, before looking back to my mother.
"Alright, Ms. Andreas. Your turn."
My eyes flew open.
"What!?"
My mother lifted a finger to shush me, but she too rose an eyebrow toward Dr. Diaz.
"It is all part of the process, trust me. Just your outer clothes."
My mother seemed to scoff half-laughingly. Not in disbelief or discomfort, but almost in morbid curiosity. And to my horror, she swiftly began peeling off her top.
At first, I wanted to look away, but just before she could leave my vision, my eyes were glued to the ample breasts popping into view. She had the massive mommy milkers of many a MILF, the kind that always made my friends' heads turn when they came over. And seeing those nice, round, firm, creamy tits spilling from her floral lingerie finally made me see what they saw. They were as full and bouncy as a college girl's, but with the ample flesh of a real woman. I realized far too late I was starting to drool.
She continued, shimmying sexily out of her skirt to set free her taut tummy, curvy hips, and glorious thighs. Again, her body was tight, especially for her age. There was a reason I never liked going to the beach with her.
As she finished, she briefly ran her hands up her sides, and patted down her hair. It was then that she finally looked back at me, and let out that same disbelieving scoff.
My gaze snapped down to my growing erection, a sense of horror and shame setting in.
"Tch." Dr. Diaz reacted. "Just as I thought. Ms. Andreas, your little Noah has a problem."
"I'll say he does!" She berated through a disapproving smile. "Really, Noah? For your own mother?"
I cracked, my hands covering my crotch as I felt my face burn.
"N- no, Mom! I don't-! I mean, I wouldn't...!"
"Your son has very little self-control." Dr. Diaz intervened, almost to my relief. "I doubt he's attracted to you outright. But he simply can't help himself at the sight of an attractive woman. Which, despite being his mother, you just so happen to be."
My mother glanced over, making me squirm in my naked, horny glory. But she placed her hands on her hips, and sighed. "I suppose I can't be too hard on him if he can't help it. But what can we do? I can't have him getting the hots for me."
"What he needs is exposure therapy. A... shock to the system, so to speak." She let her suggestion hang in the air, wall clock quietly ticking away in the background. "His body wants something his mind doesn't. We need to give his brain a reminder so strong it'll get his hormones back in line." She nodded toward a cabinet. "Grab the first bottle you see from there, Ms. Andreas."
My mother obeyed, retrieving what appeared like a bottle of lotion.
"Please, lube up your son's member for us."
I had to do a double take.
She had not just said that. I must have misheard. But my blood ran cold as my mother pumped some globs of clear, glistening lube into her palm.
"If you say so, doc."
