Hank groaned with pain and shame, as his dick stretched his suit out even further, until he was at full mast. He glanced down and confirmed that yes, he was sporting an awkward, stretched out tent in his speedo. He put his head back, closing his eyes. He needed to think of something else to make it go down.
Unfortunately, his tight suit pressed on him in a distracting way, enhancing the pleasure coursing through his dick. It’d never go down. Maybe he could wait until dark and get out then. After a bit, his dick still hard, his mom suggested they go to their chair to have a drink and a snack.
“It’s okay, I’m fine here. You go on ahead,” he muttered, his face burning.
“Hank? Are you okay?”
He nodded, wishing for the thousandth time his dick would just go down.
“Are you not able to get out of the water?” she asked, in a more understanding tone than he expected.
He nodded again.
Terror flooded Hank when his mom started to shift her way down the rock bench. He was about to move away when he felt her hand grab his arm under the water.
“Sshhh,” she said. “It’s okay. Your dad used to have this problem when we were younger. I can help.”
What? How could she help? Shield him from view so he could get out of the pool and go back to his chair? As he was about to suggest it, he felt his mom’s hand let go of his arm. Her hand tickled as she felt down his body. Hank almost swallowed his tongue when she put her hand in his lap, brushing up against his hard, cloth-encased dick.
“Mmmm, there it is,” she said from her spot next to him. They were both facing towards the pool, as if just sharing quality mother and son time.
Hank didn’t dare move or say anything as he felt his mom dig into his suit, pulling it down far enough to let his dick spring free. This was helping? She put her small hand on his hot cock. He jumped, almost falling off of the rock shelf.
“Hsst”, she warned. “Stay still. I can’t do this if you move around too much.”
‘This’ turned out to be a rolling, swirling action of her hand on his johnson. It felt like heaven. No one had ever touched him there before, and combined with his already primed dick, he felt himself close to coming.
Perhaps sensing he was close already, his mom slowed down her hand’s movements. “You can’t react. You can’t make a face, or grunt, or anything. Okay?” she warned.
Hank nodded, unsure if he’d be able to do it. He’d been so close before she stopped, it was almost painful. He waited for her to continue; cock close to bursting. When she did, he bit his lip to keep quiet. It only took two strokes before he was coming, his dick spitting semen into the water. As he spewed his load, he kept his face as neutral as possible, only breathing hard through his nose.
“There, how’s that?” his mom asked, giving him a few more strokes on his overly sensitive dick.
“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!