This story contains fictional characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities and are 18 years old or older. Please feel free to leave constructive feedback. All rights reserved.
Please read Broken Shoulders (Pt1) before reading any further. I’d like to thank you all for the lovely feedback from pt1. Especially like to thank those ‘mums’ that reached out to chat about the subject further — I suspect most of them are catfish but hey ho — who am I to judge.
It had now been 2 days since my outburst, and since I’d blown my son whilst frigging myself like a wanton slut. Those 2 days were pure purgatory for me, as I wrestled with what I had done. The pleasure and excitement of that day had diminished, replaced by a wealth of humiliating and degrading thoughts about how bad a mother I was.
It all actually began the morning after it happened. We had gone to bed that night, my mind still awash with emotion and thoughts of what I had just done. When I awoke the next morning, most of my body was now draped over my son, one of my tits was on his tummy and my leg was over his groin with my cunt now inches from his cock. I slid my hand down slowly, not wishing for my movement to disturb Ben. I remember touching my pussy and feeling how wet it was — it seemed I was in a state of perpetual wetness these days.
I extracted myself as slowly and gently as I could, almost holding my breath as I grabbed my dressing gown and went downstairs. Once in the kitchen I breathed again, made myself a coffee and then sat there with my head in my hands. My mind was awash with different emotions and feelings, a jumble of thoughts that seemed to make no sense. I struggled to even get a logical thought to remain long enough for me to consider it.
At this point, I’m sure most of you are thinking — and hoping — that I go back upstairs to fuck my son? It doesn’t happen like that, not in real life.
Firstly I still felt so profoundly guilty and ashamed about making my son cry. He’s a good lad and he didn’t deserve all that grief and vitriol regardless of the day I was having. I should have controlled myself better, I was his mum for fuck’s sake. But what’s done was done and I had apologised — not that that it made me feel any better.
But then there was what (and who) had come afterwards, and this in truth was the sticking point. I tried to reason with myself as I felt the feelings of shame and indignity begin to circle in my mind like vultures waiting for the prey to die. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before I told myself with a reminder that he had seen me come whilst impaled on the plastic dildo in the shower.
The previous night’s fapping however was in a different league and I had kissed him too, passionately, and wantonly. But in actual fact, what fractured my mind the most was the lack of consent. I know, that sounds really stupid when I say it now — and given what I was doing to Ben at the time.
Ben had not asked me to blow him, had not even made the briefest of suggestions to the fact. Yet I had dived down on his cock faster than a seagull sweeps down on a piece of bread. I had not hesitated, had not even considered my son’s wishes — I was interested only in my own self-gratification. This was proven by the fact that I also began to fuck myself with a dildo in full view of my son and again, without his consent.
Do I think he minded? Well, no of course he didn’t. Did he complain? No he didn’t — but he didn’t ask to see it either. The bottom line was I had not given him the choice and I was culpable for that.
I sat at the kitchen table, head in my hands allowing these thoughts to swirl around in my head. I paused only to refill my coffee mug and then resumed my own castigation.
I berated myself over and over at how bad a mother I was being. I was giving in to feelings and emotions that a mother should be able to keep in check. From what I’d read on reddit and on other forums (if they can be believed) is that quite a few moms have these thoughts about their son(s). The difference with me was that I was acting on them.
I remember how much I hated myself just then, I remember thinking how disgusting and perverted I was. A part of me tried to rally, reminding myself of the fantastic feelings I had experienced and of the earth-shattering orgasm I’d had. But the thought barely got past my mind’s first control gate.
After a while and whole lot of soul-searching I decided I needed to wipe the slate clean and move on. Ben had 10 days until his cast was off and in those 10 days I was determined that life would be as normal as possible.
To this end I had to make sure not to place myself in any further compromising situations. So I went back upstairs and entered the bedroom, moving straight to the wardrobe I got a pair of clean shorts then told Ben to get out of bed and I’d put his shorts on. He seemed a little bemused as I recall, not surprising I guess. Ben was probably hoping for a repeat performance Girne Escort of the previous night.
He stood up and I put the shorts on him and pulled them up in a no nonsense fashion, then placed his slippers next to his feet so he could put them on.
“I need to talk to you, downstairs.” I said to him as I left the bedroom. I think I sounded a bit more gruff than I realised because when he got downstairs, he asked if I was OK. In response I sat him down and gave him his drink, complete with straw.
I took a breath, knowing I had to be calm, assured and above all I need to sound sure and certain.
“Ben, what happened last night was …” I began. Straight away Ben interrupted me.
“It was fantastic.” he replied enthusiastically.
I glared at him, and asked him to please not interrupt me and he blushed and nodded. At least I knew how he felt about what had happened.
“What happened last night was wrong.” I said directly, then began my explanation.
I saw his face drop slightly, his smile diminished, and it broke my heart — but I knew it had to be this way.
I told him that I felt a mother’s duty to her son was to look after him. To provide him with the social and emotional skills required to navigate this crazy world of ours. Then I told him what I felt it was NOT her duty to do. A mother shouldn’t corrupt her own son, a mother shouldn’t take sexual pleasure from him — in any shape or form.
Giving him a blow job, kissing him, letting him see her fucking herself — these were all terrible things that a mother should not do to her son. Then I explained that I understood why he felt it was OK, I told him that he was young, and he couldn’t see the harm I was doing to him. Ben began to shake his head, but before he could interrupt, I continued.
“What happens when you go to Uni — have you thought about that?” I asked. Ben looked bemused so I continued to explain that in Uni, he’d most likely meet a nice girl and he’d naturally want to fuck her. I explained that he couldn’t keep fucking both of us and I even outlined the risk that he might call out ‘Mum’ during sex with her.
It was clear by the look on Ben’s face that none of these considerations had even entered his head. I tried to press home the advantage. I asked him to consider how awkward I would feel if he brought her home. How terrible would I feel hearing them fuck in the next room.
OK. At this point I have an admission to make. As I said that to Ben, I remember feeling my pussy get a little damp and I realised that the thought (of hearing them fucking) was actually turning me on. I clenched my teeth and gathered my resolve — I couldn’t afford to be side-lined now.
I then went on to say how I felt I had betrayed him as a mother, that I had let him down. I reminded him that I was the parent here, and that just like the time he asked for a new Xbox and I’d said no — I should have done the same in this instance. I paused and Ben jumped in.
“Mum, sorry I know you said not to interrupt but I have to say this. I’m an adult too, now. I’m allowed to make my own decisions and I don’t regret the decisions we made.” he stated rather boldly.
I remember I smiled at him, he was a good son. Then I explained to him about how we hadn’t made any decisions. I reminded him that I made the decision to give him a blow job last night. I was the one that kissed him, and I was the one that shoved a dildo up her wet cunt while he watched.
OK. I didn’t quite use those words, I was trying to ramp down the sexual element of the discussion. Yeah, good luck with that — right?
Then I explained to him that, even though he didn’t complain — by not getting his consent it amounted to sexual abuse. That’s how a judge would see it. In my mind, many weeks ago — I had decided that were any of this to come out, I would take the entire blame. I told Ben that I owed that to him to protect his future. I vowed to state on the record that I had forced Ben to have a blow job from me (because how could he stop me) and I had deliberately forced him to watch as I fapped myself. I swore that I would admit to everything being my idea — as long as Ben was not implicated. It wasn’t ideal — Ben would still be stigmatised and branded on social media, but it was the best I could do for him, and I told him so.
I saw his face drop once more, perhaps as the reality of my words hit home.
“You’ve got plausible deniability right now Ben, it only happened once but the more often it happens the less you’ll be believed.” I warned.
Ben nodded, his face cast downward. It was now sadly time to put the proverbial last nail in the coffin.
I told him that from today, there would be no more blowjobs. I explained that going 10 days without ejaculating (yes that’s what I called it) would not be a huge risk. I also explained that there would be no more showers, and that I would give him a bed bath every day.
I could see Magosa Escort his enthusiasm deflating in front of me and I really felt for him. He was my son and I hated to see him defeated in this way. But I told him it was for the greater good. There was no denying the disappointment and hurt in his eyes, and I was genuinely sad for him.
Then he looked up at me. “Mum … I get all that but …” he stumbled to finish the sentence.
“No buts.” I replied, smiling inwardly at the sexual innuendo that was hiding in plain sight. Immediately I cursed myself, this was exactly the sort of behaviour I need to stop. No more flirting with your son, I reprimanded myself.
“No one got hurt. I get the bit about consent, but don’t you think I would have shouted or something if I objected. I loved it mum, I loved watching you thrust …” Ben continued.
I stopped him straight away. I told him that regardless of how no one got hurt, regardless of the consent issue and regardless of how much he may have liked it — the fact was that what we had done was illegal, and that to most decent honest people in the community it would be disgusting and sickening.
I then delivered the killer blow — the one that I knew would blow all his reasoning out of the water. I hated that I had to say it, even now I quiver when I remember it. I placed my fingers on his chin and tilted his face up until his eyes met mine. There was still a small spark of hope in them, and I cursed myself again that I was going to do this, that I was going to destroy that last bit of hope in him, though I knew I had to.
“Besides all that, I just don’t want to do it anymore. Any of it.” I said assertively, putting my best ‘I’m not joking’ face on.
Was it true? Fuck No. I was more desperate for my son’s cock than I had ever been. Even as we’d been talking, I had felt my cunt continue to gush with anticipation. I had fought so hard to stop my hand from reaching down between my legs that I had been gripping the empty coffee mug with both hands so tightly and I was surprised it hadn’t broken.
But I needed Ben to believe it. So I said I was sorry, but that was the truth of it. Ben reluctantly nodded and then after a moment he declared he was tired and would go and rest on the bed for a while.
I had very little interaction with Ben that day, save a couple of times when he needed the toilet. That night I made sure to double sheet myself again, so that I could be sure my skin would not be in contact with his.
And you know what — over the next 4 days things seemed to be OK between us. I gave him a bath wash, making sure to keep it professional. I had to wash his cock of course, but I managed to keep my dirty thoughts away by telling myself I was washing the vegetables.
Finally, with 6 days to go before the cast removal — we had one last X ray to be done. We got into the ambulance and headed for the hospital, and it was on that visit that something happened.
We got to the hospital OK and headed for the Outpatients department. There we were greeted by a lovely nurse who took our details and asked us to sit in a nearby cubicle. About 5 minutes later a young nurse walked in smiling and introducing herself as Amber, the physio nurse that would be helping with the X-ray.
The female nurse was about 5ft 6 inch, she had lovely blonde hair tied back and a very cute face. She was about 23 — 25 I’d guess, no wedding ring and she had huge tits. Yes, I know it’s a cliché — not every man likes big tits. I’m a C cup, this girl was a D at least.
I saw her smile at Ben, that sort of knowing smile and it piqued my curiosity. It was soon sated.
“Hi Ben.” she cooed and paused for a response. When there was none, she continued.
“You … you don’t remember me, do you?” the nurse enquired hesitantly. It was clear that she knew him from somewhere. I watched my son’s eyes for any hint of recollection but there was none.
The nurse glanced up at me, smiled then lent close to Ben’s ears and whispered something. I really didn’t hear what she said but I did hear Ben shout out.
“Oh Fuck. That was YOU?” I hear him say, sounding incredulous.
The nurse smiled triumphantly then continued with her introduction. She turned to me “You must be Mum? Hi. I’m Nurse Williams, but you can call me Amber if you prefer, and I’ll be helping with the X-ray this morning.”
Amber then went on to confirm that this was Ben’s last X-ray and he’d be returning next week to have the cast off.
“Oh and don’t forget to return all the equipment next week. We can’t pick that stuff up.” she added nonchalantly.
A deep and uncomfortable realisation was starting to form in my head, but before I could stop him Ben gave it away.
“What equipment?” he asked innocently.
I saw Amber’s eyes go a little wide and she glanced over at me. Dammit, I know I blushed, and Amber gave an even bigger grin.
“Your toileting machine, silly…” Kıbrıs Escort said Amber tapping Ben’s thigh before adding “…and any other machine that you may have borrowed.”
Now my mind was whirling and then from the deepest recesses I recalled a porn video I had once seen. God, I wonder if in years to come people will realise how much porn has taught us. I recalled the video, more and more coming back to me in flashbacks. Artificial insemination. That’s not what the vid was about, but it was the same device being used. It’s a sort of suction pump designed to extract the cum from the guy and these 2 nurses were applying it to a guy’s cock so they could make him come — with his consent I hasten to add.
I asked Amber about the Toileting machine, and added that I just didn’t know they were available. It was now Amber’s turn to blush slightly, realising the truth of what she had uncovered.
“You guys you … did it all … ummm … manually then?” she enquired.
I nodded and must have blushed profusely then I saw Ben was about to say something, so I fixed him with a stare, and he kept quiet. Thankfully at that moment the porter arrived and took Ben to the X ray. Once he was out of sight, I turned to look at Amber. She was diligently going through her notes, her eyes fixed on her clipboard — but lord knows what was going through her mind.
“Amber? Can I ask you something?” I muttered. Amber lifted her head and smiled. She told me I could ask whatever I wanted and that she would answer it as best she could. So I took a breath, knowing I had to tread a very fine line.
I told her that yes, we had done the toileting manually and explained to her (not in great detail I may add — so I didn’t tell her that I couldn’t stop myself staring at my son’s huge cock if that’s what you’re all wondering) how we had done it.
Amber smiled back, it was a warm caring smile and it hinted that there was nothing to worry about. I think I decided then and there that I liked this girl — little did I know. She explained that a lot of people can’t get on with the machine — it’s messy and fiddly and has to be emptied constantly.
Amber stopped and looked at me once more, her smile was divine — and she said “And you still have to wipe their backsides manually. There’s no machine invented for that yet.” she giggled.
I laughed too, more out of relief than anything else, I think. I decided I was going to chance things by revealing a little bit more to Amber about what had happened between Ben and me. I took another deep breath.
“What if …” I began, hardly daring to believe I was willing to reveal this secret to a nurse I had just met. “What if we did something else?” I asked, leaving the question open. I saw her eyes widen, not in shock or revulsion but in what I can only describe as curiosity. She looked at me, a small smile on her face and nodded — a nod that I took to mean, she wanted me to explain.
By now my heart was racing, there was no going back now, I had to tell her something. Stupidly I hadn’t really thought this through properly — what should I reveal? That I jerked him off and when that didn’t work, I sucked him off? That we both showered nude together? That he saw me impale myself on a dildo? That I fucked myself with a dildo while sucking him off? Jesus — when I went through the list it was no wonder I flushed and went bright red.
A voice in my mind shouted out that maybe I should tell her I’ve been craving my son’s cock for the past 6 weeks and I’m desperate for him to fuck me. I quickly shoved that thought to the back of my mind for obvious reasons.
Amber took my hand and patted it, not in a patronising way but in a kind and gentle way and I must admit it soothed me. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth getting yourself all worked up about it Mrs Piper.” She crooned. Amazingly, this just made me want to tell her all the more. So I did.
I wouldn’t say I let it all spill out, but it’s probably true to say that I revealed more than I probably intended and more than I should have. Something about Amber made me sure I could trust her at least to a degree. So I told her about Ben’s infection, and how the district nurse had made me like a terrible mother for not keeping my son clean. I explained about the applying the cream and how Ben had got hard.
It was at this point that a very odd smile came over Amber’s face and I knew the look. It was the look someone has when they are remembering a fond memory. I didn’t know then what had happened between Ben and Amber — but I was now pretty certain it was something sexual. Her reaction to me saying that my son’s cock got hard told me that she knew exactly how big it was.
Then I blushed and paused. I really didn’t want to say the words out loud because they felt so dirty and disgusting. “I jerked him off — or tried to.” I whispered. Amber smiled and nodded.
“Tried to?” she enquired, I guess surprised by my choice of words. I panicked, feeling I needed to give a validation to my actions right there and then. I told her what the other nurse had said about how a man can go infertile if he doesn’t ‘come’ often.
I’m not really sure what response I expected, but a loud laugh was not one of them. Amber stifled her giggling and looked at me