“Better, thank you,” he managed to get out.
“You’re welcome.” With a final squeeze, she let him go.
Hank pulled his speedo back into place, relieved when his erection returned to normal size. What the fuck? Unable to ask his mom right away, he resolved to question her later.
Hank and his mom went back to their chairs and had a snack. Abby joined them a bit later, gabbing about some friends she’d met. Hank was so unnerved by the earlier handjob from his mom he barely took the time to check out his sister in her wet bikini. He still did, he just didn’t do it as thoroughly as he might have.
His attention was focussed almost one hundred percent on his mom. She seemed to glow in his vision now, an angel of benevolence who came to save her son by giving him a handjob. He was noticing things about her he’d never before registered, like the hint of her nipples or the flare of her hips. She’d given birth to him and his sister with those hips.
Hank made sure to keep his thoughts as close to pure as he could, but strayed now and then, threatening a resurgence in his speedo. By the end of the day, he was thankful no other incidents occurred, but knew he had his mom to thank for it.
The three were quiet on the way home, a bit blasted from the sun. When he pulled his Jeep into the driveway, Abby jumped out and headed in, but their mom held Hank’s arm, keeping him in the vehicle.
“Hey,” she said quietly. “This stays between us, okay? I just wanted to help you out, no need for it to be weird.”
“Um, okay. Thanks again,” he said.
She smiled brightly and said, “Of course! I’m always happy to help.”
And that’s how they left it. No word of it again, no hint from his mom she’d touched his dick or anything. Hank used the moment as spank bank material for a while, because why not? He’d been distracted by the situation at the time, but in retrospect it was fucking awesome.
—
Weeks passed. In late August, his mom grabbed Hank to go shopping for new clothes. It was a tradition in the household to get the kids new clothes for school, but Hank was 19 and done his first year of college. He didn’t really need new clothes, but wasn’t about to complain.
In the car to the mall, she went on about random stuff until he asked, “Hey, why isn’t Abby coming with us?”
“I took her last weekend. This is just a mother and son outing. Sounds good?” She looked over at him with her smile turned up to 10.
Hank felt the full effect, his stomach flipping. “Um, sounds great. This way I won’t have to be dragged around to every store that caters only to girls.”
“Exactly. Let’s start with pants, I saw a place last weekend with good prices.”
Pants were the worst. His mom always insisted on coming into the change room with her kids to make sure the sizes were right, and ‘there was room to grow’. Hank was sure he could handle the job now, and hoped to head her off before she barged in to take over.
The handjob incident at the Hole hadn’t left Hank’s mind, but it had been relegated to a ‘one-off’ thing, because his interactions with his mom hadn’t changed one bit in the time since. It truly did seem like she was helping him out of a jam.
In the mall, Hank trailed after her to a men’s clothing store. There was some decent styles Hank didn’t think he’d mind wearing in the fall. Together they picked out a few and took them to the back for him to try on. This was it. His moment of rebellion. Taking the pile of pants, he darted into the change room, trying to close the door quickly.
He’d underestimated his mom, as she followed close on his heels, slipping around him into the change room. When he turned from closing the door, she gave him a perky smile and took the pile of pants from him.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” she said.
Hank nodded, resigning himself. He turned away from her and undid the button of his shorts, letting them fall to the floor. Taking the pants handed to him, he pulled them up and did up the zipper and button. They were a bit tight. He pulled them down and tried on the next pair.
Three sets of pants later they were all too tight. His mom ducked out of the change room to get the next size up. Hank stood in place, in his boxers, feeling a bit ridiculous. When she came back, pants in hand, he wondered why she was even in here with him. She hadn’t done anything!
This set of the bigger size seemed like a better fit, but his mom clearly didn’t believe him. She knelt down to check how much room he had in his waist, and then to his embarrassment, his crotch.
“Mom,” he said.
“Shh, I’m just checking. It seems like you need extra space to grow.”
“What?”
“You know, down here. If you run into a similar problem as you had at the Hole, it’d be good if your pants hid it somewhat.”
The wrong words. Mentioning the Hole just brought the whole incident thundering back into his brain, and he felt himself stir. As his mom continued to pull at the fabric, his cock filled out to full size. It didn’t help that the shirt she was wearing showed plenty of cleavage. The sight of her soft pillows so near, shifting as she moved, got him even harder.
“Oh! That’s wonderful, dear. Very helpful.” She proceeded to check the fit of his pants while his cock strained at the front. “Hm, not very discrete, but I guess we can only work with what we have.”
She undid the button and zipper, letting the slacks fall to his ankles. The movement caused his dick to pop out of the hole at the front of his boxers. As he went to cover himself with his hands, his mom batted his hands away, eyes fixed on his johnson.
“I didn’t get a good look at it at the Hole. Very impressive, Hank.”
“Um, thanks?” he croaked, the urge to cover himself still present.
“Unfortunately, this is going to put a damper on you trying on more pants.”
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“That’s okay, I can help again, hopefully preventing a mess.”
Before he could ask what she meant, his heart beating fast at the implications, his mom grabbed hold of his cock and pulled it down to her face. He felt her breath there for a second before she darted her tongue out to lick his slit lightly. Hank jumped.
“You’ll have to be quiet, Hank, or we can’t do this.”
Hank nodded, unable to process – oh, yep, there she goes. He watched in amazement as she opened her mouth and slid his cock between her lips. Without missing a beat, she dove her head further down, swallowing him in until she hit bottom. Her bottom, not his, as a couple inches still stuck out of her mouth.
She pulled back slowly, and Hank had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop the groan from escaping him. She sent a warning glance up at him, and he nodded.
With just his head in her mouth, she stroked her tongue on his sensitive underside, humming quietly, before dipping down on him again. It was too much. The sheer craziness of getting a blowjob from his mom in a changing room sent him over the edge.
“Mom,” he whispered, and she nodded on his knob, pulling back until just his slit was kissing her lips. When he blew, he blew hard, and watched in amazement as she coolly suckled his cock, extracting everything he had to give and more, swallowing without so much as a drop lost.
When he was done, she gave one last full cock stroke, drawing out the bit left in his barrel.
“Mmm, thank you, what a nice treat,” she said in a thick voice, tucking his dick away in his boxers.
My mom sucked my dick, Hank thought, then had to stifle it as his dick threatened to come back to life. The rest of the clothes shopping went by in a haze. When they got back to the car, he said, “Mom?”
She turned her head while starting the car. “Yes, dear?” Not a hint of acknowledging there was something to discuss.
“Never mind. Um, thanks for helping with the shopping.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Hank spent the next three days trying to figure out how to bring up what had happened with her. It just never seemed the right time, and each day his window seemed to close further. In the end, he just left it, adding it to his spank bank.
He did notice he was more fixated on his mom, paying attention to what she wore and what she did. He found himself offering to help her with chores and errands, just to be around her. In the back of his head, he knew he was hoping for a repeat of the change room.
—
Months of normality followed. The weather turned, and Hank went back to college wearing the pants they had picked out on that wonderful day. He mustered up the courage to ask a couple girls out, but got no bites. He was living at home to save on rent, so it wasn’t like he would be able to bring anyone home anyway.
The worst part about fall and then winter was the change in women’s outfits, and how much skin they showed. Hank’s mom and sister were no exception, and he went from seeing them in skimpy shorts and t-shirts to jeans and sweaters. He’d stopped paying as much attention to Abby and focused on his mom since the shopping expedition, but he still noticed when Abby made the clothing switch.
November rolled around, and Hank managed to have a free weekend. No classwork, no chores, no nothing. He asked if any friends wanted to do something but they were busy, so he was stuck alone for the weekend. He’d read on the internet about people who stayed home but tried to ‘get away’; they called it a staycation.
The idea was to decorate your house as an exotic location, and pretend you were somewhere far away. Hank knew it was silly, but sometimes you had to lean into silly. He decorated the living room and kitchen with random crap he got from a thrift store: lanterns, fake fruit displays and streamers. He turned the heat up, put on some shorts and a t-shirt, and settled in for a day of watching movies while drinking slushies.
He’d managed to do all the decorating early Saturday and was ready to start his first movie when his sister and his mom emerged from their rooms. His dad was away on a fishing trip all weekend.
“Hank, what are you doing, you dumbass?” asked Abby, looking at his decorations.
“Staycation. I’m at an all-inclusive,” he said.
His mom said, “What’s the idea? Delude yourself into thinking you’re away from home and fob it off as an excuse to sit around all day and do nothing?”