When reaching the age of consent, I was still exploring my sexuality. I had always been close to my mother (as one of many children, I was the youngest). As such, it was natural for me to pay attention to my mother, particularly since my father was an abuser. One day, when only my mother and I were home, I noted she was in the bathroom, at the vanity. She was getting ready to go out, so the mirror was getting a fair amount of use: mascara, et al. As she stood there primping herself, I went into the bathroom and stood behind her. We talked for a few moments, mostly about where she was going. I think she knew of my personal sexual exploits (masturbation), for she did the laundry. If she did know, she never said anything to me. It was a particularly "hot" day for me, sexually. As I stood behind her, I stepped closer to her, pressing my body slightly against hers. While she "did" her makeup, I began to hug her. My mother was a small woman, about 4'11". She was slightly plump, a product of having 10 children. She did not resist my hugs, and continued to do her makeup and hair. My hugs became, for some overwhelming reason, more like caresses. She was wearing a top that plunged slightly in the front. This made her breasts accessible. I began to stroke her cleavage with my fingertips, and immediately began to "grow." Again, she did not resist. Eventually, I slipped a hand between her breasts and began to manipulate one of her nipples. She paused, and stood where she was. Because of our positions, I could see my hand doing its thing. While I continued to stroke her breasts with one hand, I reached down with my other hand to rub my cock. It was a spontaneous act, for I never considered doing such a thing. This went on for a few minutes, and I was getting pretty worked up, sliding my knuckles across my now firm erection. My mother turned around and said I shouldn't be doing what I was doing. I stopped for a brief moment, but resumed. Since I was making no attempt to do anything with/to her but stroke her breasts, she no longer attempted to stop me. I continued my attention on her breasts, and while doing this, I released my cock from my pants. I thought she might "have a cow," but she did not. She gave me a slight smile, but merely stood there. I continued to stroke her breasts with one hand while stroking my now-naked cock back and forth. I was REALLY becoming excited, but did not know why until some years later, when I'd grown up. I continued stroking and massaging, until I was ready to "get that funny feeling." The bathtub was very close, as it was a small bathroom. I moved slightly, to get close to the tub while still holding my hand inside her top. I stroked very fast now, and felt my legs stiffen, prepared to ejaculate. I did so, with one spurt after another pusling from the opening of my cock. When I was finished, she didn't pull away. She just stood there until I'd recovered. I pulled my hand out of her blouse, put my cock back in my pants, and left the bathroom. This was never repeated, and we never spoke of it. It was just a happening in my early adulthood. She was very understanding, and only supported what I'd done. Another woman would have reacted very differently, perhaps scolding and judging me. My mother did not!