Breaking the Duck! Ch. 03

"Bloody hell, Mother!" I exploded. I never get angry with my mother but the stress over her finding out about the American exchange trip and then probing about my non-existent sex life just hit a raw spot that evening. "I wish I WAS shagging somebody...anybody...I am pissed off with being the bloody town virgin!"

"GAVIN!"

She was trying to look shocked by my outburst but I could see the beginnings of a smile twitching the corners of her lovely mouth. That was the absolute end! I had made a pratt of myself again, spouting on about being a bloody virgin to my mother...how childish and embarrassing was that? Now she was bloody laughing at me! But it gave me the spur that I needed even if it was driven by temper.

"Mother!" I stated firmly, "I am going to apply for the exchange programme, and if I get in I shall certainly accept, so get used to the idea that I shall be in America for six months next new term!"

"Yes dear." Was all that she said in reply.

"Yes!" I confirmed a bit petulantly. I was feeling guilty now, I had shouted at my mother because she had backed me into a corner and said things that boys should not say to their mother's, even one as worldly wise as mine was.

She just sat there smiling at me affectionately as I prepared to beat a retreat and started to gather up my brochures and papers.

"Did you mean what you said about being a..." She persisted, her voice soft and very gentle.

"What about being a twenty-year old bloody virgin?" I exploded again. Why is it that once a woman senses that they have drawn blood they have a compulsion to hound you to bloody death! "And yes..." I added un-necessarily, "I would happily shag my way through your circle of friends, young or old, but I don't think any of them would have me!"

"Do you blame me for that as well?" She asked, a strange expression on her face.

"Oh, for God's sake, Mother...just let it drop... I can't be talking about these things to you...you are my mother for Christ's sake!"

"But..."

"It's OK Mother, just forget it...please just forget I ever said it..." I pleaded. "I am going upstairs now," I turned and made for the door to the hall. "I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed...we can talk again over breakfast...OK?"

"Alright...Goodnight then darling..." She said.

It wasn't until I was halfway up the stairs that I realised that for the first time in years and years I had not given my mother a goodnight kiss before retiring for the night.

*

I stormed up to my room and tossed the paperwork onto my desk, I would fill in the application form later and post it off in the morning. I might give Julian Frome a telephone call as well to confirm my interest.

Christ Almighty! I had stood up to Mother over this and I think that I had won! It hadn't been much of a battle as I felt that she had already decided not to oppose me and it was a bit of a hollow victory, I was coming to realise that there is no pleasure in knowing that you have the power to hurt somebody that you love. I didn't want to hurt my mother but I needed to get away and I really, really needed to get laid!

I felt hot and sticky and in need of that shower and so I stripped off and made my way naked towards the bathroom. Before I was halfway down the landing I changed my mind. I would use the new walk-in shower in Mother's en suite, she was downstairs in the sitting room and I could hear that she was watching the nine o' clock news on the television and she never came to bed until at least eleven o'clock.

I stepped under the shower head and turned the jet on full and luxuriated in the fierce stinging of the hot water pounding on my back and shoulders, the water pricking at my scalp even through my hair. It was relaxing and exhilarating both at the same time and I turned slowly under the hard cascade letting the water pummel my chest and belly and as the pleasure infused every part of my body I stepped back to allow the jet to play on my prick which was already starting to harden and jerk erect. Within seconds the stinging water of the shower had given me an erection of gigantic proportions and I was happy to surrender to the erotic pounding of the shower on my throbbing member and just stood enjoying the sensation supporting myself with both hands pressed against the wall tiles, my head tilted back and my eyes closed.

I jumped with shock and surprise when I felt arms encircle my waist and a body press up hard behind me. My first instinct was to turn around.

"No darling...stay where you are..." It was my mother's voice, who else could it be we were alone in the house...but WHAT THE FUCK? I had not heard her come upstairs or into the shower room.

"Jesus Christ Mother...what are you doing..?" I exclaimed. I could feel now that she was still fully dressed in her shirt and jeans, I was aware of the fabric rubbing against the skin of my back and arse, she was already soaking wet. Even through the wet fabric of her shirt and bra I could feel the round firm shape of her breasts pressed into my back.

"Just stay still and let me do this for you..." She murmured and I could feel her hot lips placing soft gentle kisses on the back of my naked wet shoulders and neck. Then her hand moved down the front of me and I felt her long slender fingers wrap around my erection. My mouth fell open with amazement and I couldn't have moved now if I had wanted to...but I didn't...my mother held me imprisoned and I could have happily made it a life sentence.

"Oh fuck, Mum... What? Why?" I gasped. Her hand was slowly and gently moving up and down my rigid shaft the hot water from the shower lubricating her movement and adding to the sensual tingling of my swollen glans.

"You are my beautiful, handsome son... I love you...and I need to do this for you..." She whispered against my back whilst her hand moved softly but rapidly up and down my cock making me gasp and focusing my entire life essence into that throbbing column of sinew and muscle.

My mother's fist pumped slowly up and down, she was skilled at making the pleasure last for as long as possible, anticipating when my time was near and holding back only to bring me back to the point of ecstatic explosion a few moments later. It felt sensational, her hand began to move faster and faster the wave of exquisite pleasure like an mild electric shock each time that her wet palm brushed over the screamingly sensitive glans and I felt my hips begin an involuntary jerking, thrusting my prick forward, fucking her tight fist like it was a vagina.

I heard uncontrollable moans of euphoria escaping my lips as she allowed her fist to slip all the way up over the penis head gathering the moisture from my pre-cum before gliding back down in a twisting corkscrew action. No jerk off that I had ever given myself came anywhere near to the sensation of her hand on my prick and the feel of her body clasped tightly to my back her lips still moving like feathers over my shoulders.

Then suddenly the pleasure was more than I could stand and I erupted for real with the force of a volcano. My hips jerked and the first cum-shot hit the wall tiles and was instantly washed away by the teaming water from the shower. I felt the second burst of semen spurt free as Mother jacked hard on my prick and then my arms started to collapse with the strain of supporting both my weight and hers and I staggered forward against the wall.

"Oh fuck, Mother...you made me cum..." I gasped. I struggled to turn around within the loop of her arms until I was facing her my naked chest and softening dick pressed against her soaked shirt and jeans.

"Yes, darling..." She agreed quietly.

Her hair was wet and plastered to her head but she still looked beautiful, suddenly she looked the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen. I lowered my face and softly pressed my lips to hers an almost reflex response to the sexual intimacy we had just shared. We kissed lightly, her lips were soft and yielding and I brushed my tongue over them and probed gently until she relaxed her mouth and our tongues were entwined in a slow sensual dance which left me panting for breath, it was far from the sort of kiss that a mother and son should be sharing. Then all too quickly she broke away and took a step back.

"You need to get dry, and I need to get out of these wet clothes before we both get chilled..." She said sensibly as though we had just come in out of the rain.

"But Mother..." What had just occurred between us was too enormous to take in. Was I sorry that it had happened...absolutely not!

I looked down into her face, she closed her eyes as if not being able to see my face would change what we had just done. Nothing could change the fact that my mother had just taken me by surprise and jerked me off, and I had let her, and it had been fantastic the best thing that had ever happened to me! Could I have stopped her? Yes I could! Certainly I was bigger and stronger that she was but did I want to...NO!

I had turned the hot water off and was starting to feel a bit chilly, mother must have been bloody freezing in her wet clothes. I pulled two thick fluffy white bath towels from the towel rail, draped one around her shoulders like a cape and started to vigorously rub myself dry with the other.

"Let me do that, darling boy..." She said taking the towel from me and began to rub and pat my chest, stomach and thighs dry kneading my body to a glowing warmth.

"Mother...you don't need to do this..." I said, but I didn't want her to stop.

She worked the towel down to dry my lower legs and then knelt before me to lift each foot in turn to caress my toes with the soft towel.

"I haven't dried my lovely son after his bath for well over ten years..." She murmured.

"I'm not a little boy any more, Mother!" I gasped as her hands moved the towel up again to stop just below my dangling balls. I could feel the soft edge of the towel on the sensitive skin of the scrotum.

"I had noticed!" She said with a smile. Her face was level with my prick which was now starting to re-act to the massaging and beginning to jerk back to life. Her hand came up and gently cupped my balls as she softly wiped my prick with the towel and then stood up.

"Turn around so that I can finish your back..." She ordered.

Dry, I took the towel from her and belatedly wrapped in around my waist, the damp weight of the towel keeping my prick from rising any further.

"Can I help you get dry?" I asked reaching for the buttons of her shirt. Even through her soaking wet shirt and bra I could see her nipples hard and dark pressing against the material.

She let me undo the top button of her shirt and then gently placed her hand over mine halting my progress.

"No I don't think so...Not this time..." She said. "I think that we should just go to our beds now...we can talk about things at breakfast tomorrow..."

She stepped up and gave me a light mother to son kiss on the lips and for a moment I felt her breasts pressed against my chest and then she pushed me away in the direction of the shower room door.

Later, I lay on my bed in my sleeping shorts and tee-shirt unable to sleep. My thoughts were filled with my mother and what had happened in the shower room. Every time that I replayed the amazing sequence of events in my mind it gave me another hard-on but although I longed to relieve myself again I could not bring myself to place my hand where hers had been, I did not want anything to spoil the memory of her hand on my prick and her hot lips planting little kisses on the back of my shoulders.

I didn't know what had prompted her to come to me and do that fantastic thing but I would give anything in the world to have her do it again.

*

I was up early the following morning. My prick had the soft dampness that told of a restless night with one erection after another but no satisfactory relief. I pulled on my towelling dressing gown and crept along the landing to the main bathroom, I needed a cold shower to wash away the night perspiration and calm my body down. Refreshed and dry I risked taking a glance into my mother's room. She appeared to still be sleeping peacefully the duvet pushed down exposing her bare back and shoulders with only the string shoulder-strap of her nightdress confirming that she was not naked beneath the cover. Her chestnut hair lay in a luxurious cascade across her pillow, half concealing her face, still crinkled and curly from having got wet the night before a reminder of what had occurred between us...as if I needed any reminder.

Just watching her sleeping was beginning to start a new arousal. That was really not a good idea and so I quickly fled to my room, changed into my olive green chino trousers and a plain grey tee-shirt, pushed my feet into a pair of leather deck shoes and made my way silently down to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.

It was warm and cosy inside the house but outside the lawn was white with a late April frost and the air still held the ghostly memory of a hard February. Typical English spring weather, frost one morning and warm spring sunshine the next. Cool mornings, warm afternoons and freezing nights.

I sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and gulped down one complete mug of scalding black coffee without really thinking about anything at all, the events of the previous night flashing through my mind like a manic slide show without any coherent sequence or logical story. I couldn't get what had happened between Mother and myself straight in my mind until I had taken a ten minute walk around the misty garden and smoked my first cigarette of the day. I was half way through my second mug of coffee when Mother came into the kitchen wearing her long silk dressing gown, peacock blue with gold Chinese blossoms and birds. She had brushed her hair and it was a sleek and lustrous and tied back in a thick pony tail which bobbed enticingly on her white neck.

"Good Morning, Gavin..." She said as though this were just another day.

"Er...Morning Mother...would you like me to start breakfast?" The last few months since Father left our morning routine had changed, become more flexible, we had begun to share the little chores like getting breakfast ready, sometimes I left for college early and grabbed something in the student canteen and sometimes Mother stayed in bed late in the morning and I would take her a cup of coffee and the newspapers to read. She no longer had to get my father a cooked breakfast on the table for 7:15am seven days a week.

"I think that I would just like some toast and marmalade and a glass of orange juice..." She told me... "But don't let me stop you having a full cooked breakfast if you are especially hungry this morning..." I had to look away to suppress a grin as she blushed a little at that last comment.

"I feel starved!" I admitted.

"Alright, you put my toast on and I will start your eggs and put some bacon and sausages under the grill..."

The remainder of breakfast was quiet, we spoke but only about normal things nothing was said about what had happened between us in the shower room. I think that both of us were too nervous to even broach the subject just then.

I suppose that we both tried to just treat it like a normal day. I walked down to the post-box with my application form and then spent most of the day in my room studying and Mother pottered about the house, dealing with her correspondence, fiddling with vases of flowers and getting the lunch prepared and I think we both a made an effort to stay out of each other's way.

Throughout the day the sexual tension between us grew. I was becoming quite jumpy and nervous whenever we were together I couldn't look at her without remembering the shower room and I couldn't think of anything except the feel of her hand on my prick and the physical and emotional ecstasy when my mother had brought me to an explosive climax.

The prospect of talking about it was embarrassing...the constant craving to have her do it again was worse.

Dinner was awful.

The food was great, Mother had made lamb cutlets with redcurrant sauce, red cabbage and apple and little Jersey Royal potatoes, with a bottle of Rioja Reserva. It was Mother who appreciated good wines, my father drank nothing but spirits and the occasional beer, and so what I knew about fine wine I had learned from her.

We hardly spoke to each other through the meal except to comment on the food or wine but when we took our coffees through to the sitting room I was the one who finally found the balls to speak about the thing we had been avoiding all day.

"Mother...er...Mum...What happened last night...?" I asked. We were sitting facing each other on the two opposing couches.

"You know what happened..." She said a little bit sheepishly.

"Yes, but why? Mothers and sons aren't supposed to do things like that...touch each other sexually!"

"I know my darling, and I was in the wrong... I should not have done that to you... it was my fault...and I am so sorry if it has upset you..." She said. Her face was a picture of misery, I felt bloody awful for forcing her to say these things.

"Shit, Mother...we were both to blame. I am a grown man now! I could have stopped you, but I let you do it...you did not upset me...I wanted you to do it! It was bloody fantastic!" I told her.

"Oh sweetheart... you just seemed so unhappy when you told me that you were a... er... that you had never...well...had never had sex!" She said and reached across the table to cover my hand with hers.

"But why did you...?" I really did not know if I was genuinely being obtuse or whether I wanted her to confirm what I was secretly hoping.

"Because you are my beautiful, big handsome son...and I love you so much..." She said her face softening and her mouth curving into one of her fabulously beautiful smiles. "And I couldn't let you leave home thinking that you were not a man...never having made love to a woman..."

"Mother, you don't have to...I will find somebody soon..."

"Darling I do 'have to' if the alternative is driving you into bloody Harriett Lattimer's bed!" She said firmly, her face taking on a serious aspect again. She reached over and grasped my hand. "I'm messing this all up." Tears suddenly came to her eyes.

"You seriously are worried aren't you?" I said and squeezed her hand warmly and smiled.

"Yes. Since your father left I'm your mother, and father, and I don't know about boy stuff, the things that men should talk to their son about. Your dad is in London now, shacked up with his German whore, so he can't or won't do it."

"I wouldn't want him to...we never were that close and you know it!"

There was a long silence as she watched my face. I guessed that her keeping me close to home and chasing off any girl I became interested in was her mother's misguided way of protecting me.

Finally I took a deep breath and said, "All right, if you are saying that you want me to talk to you like I would if Dad were around, fine, but don't get embarrassed or upset."

Mother smiled as she wiped her eyes. "I can't promise that..."

"OK...so what I said is true...I have never had real sex with a girl!" I confessed all in a rush.

"You mean intercourse?"

"Yes."

"That is hard to believe," Mother said. "You are such a good looking young man I would think that the girls would be swooning over you, darling?"

"Oh God Mother..." I gasped exasperated. "Every time a girl comes near me you chase her away...there was that Kellie on my birthday... remember the fuss you made over her!"

"Oh Gavin, my darling...I am so sorry... I was just trying to protect you..." She said sadly. "But there have been some nice girls you have dated since going to college..."

"Mother I need more from a relationship than 'dating with benefits'."