Thanks a lot to Kenji Sato for correct my story!
I was so embarrassed that I could not look at my mother, or the doctor in the face. It was really a bad time.
“So after a few days it will all be over?”
“Yes, just give him some time to stabilize.”
I have always masturbated regularly in my life, since I was in middle school, but I had begun to exaggerate how often. I was masturbating two or three times a day, but this was not the real problem, because I masturbated with a certain emphasis. It gave me, apparently, much more pleasure, though in reality I simply lost control when I masturbated.
It was all very fun actually, until the problems arrived.
As a result of the excessive stimulation, my penis had begun to swell and redden, which scared me a lot, forcing me to ask for help from my mother. She got scared, too; and kept wondering how such a thing could have happened. I told her the whole truth and she was incredibly angry.
So here we are, my mother and me, during our session with the doctor, who had just told me not to have “good times” with my penis for a few days, and to take a strange drug in the meantime.
The appointment ended, as did my suffering, since I had already been terribly embarrassed to talk about this strange fact with my mom, and now with a stranger. Not to mention that the doctor had me undress in front of my mother, who had insisted on staying in the studio during the visit.
My mom has always been a very apprehensive mother, she had made me get all of my vaccinations, and get medical checks of every kind since I was a child. She was very annoyed, as well as frightened, as I was stupid enough to hurt myself by just masturbating.
She stopped talking to me, or looking at me for days.
After a while, my penis seemed to return to normal. I stopped taking the medicine, and I told my mother while she was making lunch one day. She continued to not look at me and not answer me, but it didn’t bother me; the important thing was that she understood, and besides, I knew she would stop acting like that. In fact, that day, after having finished lunch, I sat down on the sofa, and my mother, having finished clearing the table in the kitchen, sat down next to me and finally spoke to me again.
“How can you be so stupid Jacob?”
She surprised me a bit as I tried to work out what she had told me.
“Well, I thought that after you turned eighteen you would have become a responsible boy and able to look after yourself, but then…” she interrupted herself thinking about the problem I had, putting her hands on her face.
“I’m sorry mom, I told you, it will not happen again. What else do you want me to say?”
“If you had some problems like that when going out with girls I could even understand it, but…” she answered tiredly, making me feel even more pathetic than I am.
“Of course you’re right, but the doctor said it could happen to boys.”
“He also said it to make you feel better, but does that seem normal to you?”
It was a lost fight; my mother continued to be senselessly angry, and there seemed to be nothing that could calm her.
“You know what, I do not care what you did. I do not care about the time I lost, and how much you scared me. I just want to know one thing, just one: HOW?”
“How what?”
“How the hell did you reduce your penis like that?”
Technically, my mother was asking me how I masturbate.
“I don’t know exactly how to explain it to you, mom.”
“Well, try.”
She seemed really determined to understand what was the cause of the problem, despite that it already passed. I think that all the young guys and girls feel embarrassed to talk about certain things with their parents (even more so with those of the opposite sex), but I did want to end it. Ever since I told her the truth, she kept complaining about me, insulting me sometimes. She really scoffed when she was angry, moving from one conversation to another.
Although I had hurt my penis, she had harassed me with all her talk about me making a future as well as finding a girl, etc…
“Okay mom, but I had already tried to explain it to you. I feel constantly excited, okay? And I feel the need to masturbate, but I do it with great enthusiasm and energy, and even after I have done it once, it’s not enough and I continue to do it shortly thereafter.”
I looked her in the eyes. She gave me an extremely confused gaze, which was starting to irritate me. After a few seconds, she took a chair from the table in the living room, placed it in front of me and sat there.
“Show me.”
“What?”
“You heard me, show me how you do it.”
I was prepared for anything she could tell me; but not for this.
“Mom, do you realize what you’re asking me?”
“Yes Jacob, I realize very well what I’m asking of you, but I also realize what you put me through; and anyway, I cannot be sure you’re doing something right if I have no idea how you do it.”
Okay, she was a very worried mother, but now she was getting ridiculous.
“Mom, stop it, I cannot…”
“Stop acting like a child, Jacob, and be a man. I have always followed you in your studies, and helped when you were wrong; but, I repeat, ‘I cannot do it if I have no idea where you are wrong.’ What happened must not happen again, you got it?”
Even more embarrassing than having to masturbate in front of my mother; however, is to admit that it really began to make me afraid to see her angry that way.
I took off my pajama pants and underwear without too much trouble; my mother had already seen me naked at the doctor’s, and it was not a big problem; but it was what would come later, that would be.
“Fortunately, it was not really anything serious and there seems to have been no permanent damage.” Mom continued, studying my flaccid penis from top to bottom.
“You see, I’m not as incapable as you say, I could have done something worse and…”
“Don’t change the subject, and masturbate,” she answered in a frank and cold way that I did not believe was possible.
“Mom, what the hell, it’s almost humiliating!” I exploded in despair, almost in tears.
“I don’t care Jacob, pretend I’m not here, close your eyes and think what you want, I’ll be quiet here, just watching,” she concluded adamantly.
Be a man she always told me. All right, did she want me to be a man? I would have been. I overcame the embarrassment I had with all my strength and took hold of my penis with determination.
I closed my eyes and slowly began to massage my cock trying to think of anything that could excite me. I thought of a model I had seen on a TV show shortly before, to one of my former classmates for whom I had a crush, but nothing.
I opened my eyes and saw my mother with her eyes fixed on my penis and the movements of my hand. Of course I had watched her numerous times during my life, but that time was different. I was watching her, now, while I was masturbating.
I noticed my mother’s green eyes, her black hair gathered with pincers, her little nose, and her short flowered dress to her knees; I also saw two large bumps on his chest, and unless it was the bra doing all the work, they looked like they were a nice pair of firm tits.
My mother then crossed her legs, the skirt retreated upward, and I caught a glimpse of her blue lace panties. I had the unhealthy idea of wanting to see them better.
I was too busy to be angry with her for various reasons, that I had not noticed how beautiful she was; luckily, she didn’t notice my vulgar looks, she being focused on my lower part, while I began to enter into my usual masturbation mood.
I got excited. My penis began to get harder and harder, and I tugged it harder and harder. I squeezed and pulled with unprecedented power, acquiring a rhythm that seemed to be used to almost detach my genitals until…
“JACOB!”
I had closed my eyes a second time while I was masturbating, a slave to excitement, risking hurting my penis a second time, and about to come; which fortunately, didn’t happen thanks to my mother, who clenched my arms with all the strength that she could find.
I had once again lost control.
“That was the fifth time I was calling you, but what’s gotten into you? Can’t you control yourself?”
I was still stunned, but as my mother had opened her legs, I clearly saw her panties. My pulsating dick was pointing straight at them, and I had to fight the urge to touch it again.
“I believe that your penis has been reduced that way, holy God. It really seems I have to give you a lesson on this, too; and I do not care how strange or how much you are opposed…” She hastened to say, seeing me ready to object, “Now listen well to what I tell you, because I will not repeat it a second time. In fact, I will be extremely frank,” she explained, looking even more beautiful, with an almost wild look. “I also had to endure my mother who taught me about ‘masturbation techniques.’ ”
Damn.
“In masturbation, it is essential to take your time, giving pleasure to yourself slowly, increasing your pace progressively, but within certain limits, however. Do you agree?” she asked, in part afraid of how I had just masturbated.
“All right, slow and steady, speed at certain limits; I understand. Now can I go?” I asked bored.
“No! Jacob, try again. Do it as I told you.”
I took hold of my penis again, rubbing it slowly up and down. I tried to avoid looking at her with all my strength, but I could not.
I noticed her thighs with smooth, silky skin, and her blue nylon stockings ending just above her knee, as her dress was quite raised, allowing me to see it all. I wondered if her bra was the same color, as well. My anger towards my mother seemed to turn into excitement as I masturbated in front of her, and slowly, I lost the ‘technique’ that she had taught me a few seconds before.
“No Jacob, be calm, and stimulate him slowly, or you’ll risk hurting yourself again.”
“It’s not nice that way, mom; not the way you’re telling me to do it.”
“Yes it is. You just don’t do it well, son.”
“Of course I do it well mom, I just have to masturbate after all, what should be so special in what you say?”
“Damn, how can you be so incapable?”
Even more unnerved than before, I got ready to respond in kind, but my mother knelt on the floor and put her right hand on my cock. My heart skipped a beat.
“Look closely at me Jacob…” she said tightly gripping my cock, rubbing it slowly up and down.
I made a slight nod ‘yes’ with my head, unable to answer at that moment.
“The force, you have to apply it in your grip, making it firm, the pleasure derived from your work must increase gradually, without going in a hurry. If you…” She seemed to have a bit of trouble talking because of what she was doing and saying, “Squeeze your penis properly, maybe approaching the climax and blocking it several times, you will have a greater and better orgasm,” she explained to me, trying not to be as nervous as possible.
A few years earlier a friend of mine told me, “It must be hell to live with your mother,” but at that moment, I was in heaven as far as I was concerned.
My mother was masturbating me with such a perfect wrist movement, that who knows how many handjobs she had to do to get to that point; I never thought I would be thinking of handjobs and my mother! Her speed was increasing from slow and boring, to a medium-fast masturbation, and she had an iron grip; she was literally crushing my penis. And she had scolded me for possibly hurting myself with my technique!
“Now you will have understood that it is so much better, right? Try again,” she said, ending her words by giving a long squeeze from the base of my penis to the tip; from which came out a drop of precum that dripped down to my testicles. Usually I didn’t produce precum, I didn’t have time; but evidently, after so many years, my cock had been used worthily.
I don’t know if it was because my mother was good at it, or because it was the hand of another to masturbate me; but it was definitely more pleasant that way.
My mom had stopped just when I was about to come for the second time, leaving my cock pulsating with veins well in sight; her strong, painful and yet pleasant grip at the same time seemed to have left lines on my penis.
I concentrated on masturbating as my mother wanted, troubled by the intense emotions that I had experienced moments before. I tried to imitate her exact movements, increasing in speed from caress to caress.
I don’t know if she had always done it, or was just doing it at the time; but my mother would lick her lips quickly from time to time. Her tongue came out and then returned into her mouth immediately, washing her lipstick making it more and more shiny. Every time she did it, I sped the movements of my hand slightly, entering into a rhythm.
The bust of her dress had fallen aside, probably because of the sinuous movements of her arm that had occurred before, making me see the bra that matched with the rest of her underwear; and in addition, her left hand was now resting on my leg. So many little things that they were driving me crazy.
“Well done, Jacob. Finally, pay attention to your testicles, the semen is there.”
For her, it was now useless to talk, so she went directly to the facts, moving her left hand from my leg to my scrotum, cupping it and squeezing it slightly, joining the movement of my hand, and causing a continuous, but not excessive, stimulation, making it seem like sexual torture.
I was approaching a medium-high masturbation speed, while my mother was turning my balls in her fingers with her consecrated, sinuous movements. More precum came out of my penis, and for the third time, I felt the orgasm that was about to arrive, as it seemed that my mother’s hand would have been enough to provoke him. I concentrated to the maximum, holding back my excitement, slowing down more and more the speed, blocking the orgasm.
A groan of dissatisfaction came out spontaneously.
“Your penis seems to respond well to the stimulation, sweetheart. Now I know for sure that you are healed, my purpose was also this in reality. Just do not make me worry anymore, understood?” she said with her eyes bright.
As completely horny as I was, I felt guilty for what I had done; perhaps for the first time in a long time. It was not true that it didn’t matter how much I had frightened her. She was doing all of this only to not worry that way again.
“Don’t tease it that way anymore, but think about squeezing it out properly. If it’s not enough for you…” she spoke, strangely pensive and eager to help me, “use two hands instead of one.”
“Two hands?”
“Yes honey.”
“But mom, it’s already difficult to concentrate on all the movements with one hand, how I can I with two?…”
“Oh, the things I have to do.” she said, annoying herself for the umpteenth time.
She put one hand on the base of my penis, taking the balls too, and the other near the tip.
“Look at me Jacob, it’s not that hard…”
My mother began to milk my penis as you do with the udders of a cow. She squeezed my gonads and the base of my penis carefully and slowly with one hand, while with the other she was masturbating the upper part of my penis, opening and closing the head quickly and repeatedly, doing the job as an artist of masturbation. It was becoming difficult to hold back my moans and listen to her as she spoke.
She wriggled so much that during all of this, her dress had ridden up, finally showing her curvaceous and candid ass wrapped in a piece of fabric that barely managed to contain it. Her bra began to give way, letting her firm tits with brown nipples come out. She did not notice or did not care, continuing to wriggle to explain her technique of masturbation, and I dared neither talk nor move, not wanting to interrupt the pleasure I was receiving.
It was the moment of greatest sexual pleasure of my life.
“You have to accumulate as much semen as possible, so as to free it all at once; but be careful not to ruin your orgasm, by leaving it in halfway, it could hurt you a lot. When you start to masturbate regularly, if you feel you can no longer resist, just release it okay?” she said, rubbing her thumb on the tip of my penis noisily because of the precum released by my cock, thanks to the attention it was receiving.
Seeing her half-naked body plus the expert masturbation was too much.
She was slowly taking me for the fourth time close to orgasm, and even if she stopped in time, my cock seemed to think otherwise.
I had not had any orgasm, nor had I touched my penis other than to wash it for days, and it seemed as if the sperm that had been stored, was coming up at that moment full force along my penis. Nothing was able to stop it.
“Mo-mom…” I stammered, feeling my cock burning, almost not wanting her to stop; but trying in any way to warn her of the imminent danger.
“Jacob, what’s wrong, aren’t you feeling well?” she answered, frightened, seeing my face twisted with pleasure, arresting her movements.
Before my real orgasm, there was an anticipation, as if to free the accumulated pressure, and a small sketch that branched out in all directions through small drops, soiling my chest, the sofa, the floor and my mother’s face. Immediately afterwards there was a sketch a little longer and much more powerful, which like a bullet, reached the table nearby, knocking one of the glasses to the floor.
My mother understood what was happening, but she was still determined not to ruin my orgasm so as not to hurt me (it is the duty of a mother to avoid hurting her son at all costs, is it not?), and squeezes with one hand my balls while with the other slowly stroked my penis pointing it in the air. This gave the green light to the sperm.
Two streams of sperm flew through the air, falling back to rain (which seemed more hail) on the arms of my mother and my legs, each followed by a verse that I tried to choke with all my might. My dick like a cannon charged at the base with sperm globes and then launched them like streamers in the air.
With the third and fourth flow it felt like my penis could be seriously detached, making me lose all control, screaming for extreme pleasure. The last two flows, less powerful but still voluminous, dripped onto my mother’s hands and the couch.
I cannot blame my mother, it was certainly the best handjob I’ve ever been given. Although it would be more correct to say handjobs, plural, given to me.
After all this mess, there was a minute of near silence (as it was partly broken by my constant panting); as if to restore the balance between us, but then my mother spoke surprisingly with all the candor of this world.
“We should both be mature enough to realize that it was just an accident that will not happen again. The important thing is that you’ve recovered and understood how you no longer have problems like the other day.”
She got up and took some napkins from the table trying to be careful not to step on the broken glass, cleaning the sperm on her hands and arms as best she could, as well as the drops splashed on her neck and breasts along with her face. Her dress was not readjusted, perhaps because she had not yet realized its dishevelment from before. I stared all this time watching her clean up, looking at her round ass. I did not stiffen in my pants obviously, but I did think this could happen again after that day.
Finally, she took a bottle of wine from the window, which she had only bought in case of guests or for beauty; opened it, filled a whole glass, and drank it all in one gulp.
Oh, and by the way, she is a teetotaler.