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First Ejaculation Was Too Much To Handle

Posted by: Author: Age: 33 much younger then Posted on: 0 comments
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This story involves my awesome mom. I suppose it could be a MF story but that was never her intention or mine.


I was an early bloomer. I used to jack off all the time. I did it with a dry hand or just humping my bed. If there was any ejaculate it was more like clear pre-cum. As I started going through puberty I used to last a little longer, so I would use my spit so as not to rub myself raw. I still had no ejaculate, but had lots of orgasms. After a while, it got so I'd nearly run out of spit, so I started doing it in the tub. I would be in there for hours I'd keep adding hot water so I wouldn't freeze. I'd run the hot water tank cold.

After a couple of adventures like this, mom in retrospect was definitely on to me, she would knock on the door every five minutes to get me out, apparently she was afraid that the rest of the family would figure it out to, I say this because she switched my bath time from before bed, to when I got home from school. It was just her and me in the house at that time. She would knock on the door and offer to wash my back once during the bath, and other than that she would leave me alone, so she must have realized I needed release. I used to scramble to knock one out in a hurry, so I wouldn't have a hard on when she came in. Then after she left I would have several more goes at it, until the water was too cold to endure.

My mom used to wash me in the bath as a child; I really didn't think much of it that she continued to offer to wash my back. In retrospect after a few weeks of the bath time change, it is clear now in retrospect that she wanted to catch me, so we could have 'the talk'.

She would always knock first. Once or twice I would tell her in a few minutes. I would make the excuse that I was in the middle of washing my hair, but I'm sure she knew better. It had to be obvious to her what was going on, so she changed her tactics in stead of knocking and waiting for a reply, she just came in.

Actually I suspect she just stood at the door and listened for the tell tale rhythmic sounds and decided to spring the trap. As she walked in I was on the verge, to say that I was startled was an understatement... Crotch lathered with shampoo, hands around my dick, flushed and breathing hard. I tried to hide as best I could but it was obvious to both of us I was busted.

She had a stern look on her face and said 'I thought so'. She asked how long I had been doing this. I wondered if she meant this time or since my first wank. I did not want to bring down wrath, so I muttered a few minutes. She did not apologize for walking in she just sat down and started to wash my back and she told me we had to talk. With a full hard on that was unrelenting this would not have been my choice of when we should talk, but clearly I did not get a vote.

She told me that what I was doing was not unnatural and that many boys did it, but it was something that was to be kept private as much as possible. I was spending too much time in the bathroom and that I should choose times when I would not be discovered. I noted that I shared my room and other than when my brother was at a sleep over, the bathroom was my only safe haven. She said that it should not take me two hours. Clearly it did not, more like two minutes, but when you want to do it a dozen of times... I just said I try to be a little more secret. She limited my bath time to 1/2 hour, and suggested I not do it in the tub because of the cost of the hot water and splashing rhythmic sound giving me away. Talking about cramping my style! She went on to tell be about the birds and the bees as a Nurse she was very clinical about her instruction, but it was exciting just the same. She asked if I had any questions. I was overwhelmed and dumbstruck, so she said I could talk to her about anything, and not to be afraid to ask. The water was ice cold by now, and things had shriveled to nothing, so mom told me time was up time to get out. So I did.

I was overflowing with emotions. I was feeling guilt, embarrassment, over being caught; excitement over what I had learned, anxiousness that I was not normal to want it so much. I took a few days to sort it all out. I asked mom some questions when no one was around, her clinical answers were reassuring but in some way exhilarating. I was becoming a man.

As the days wore on I looked for opportunities to jerk off. None presented themselves. I was waking with an unrelenting leaking hard on. A cold wash cloth settled me down but I spent a lot of the day with a stiffy. It probably wasn't that way all day, but I had a number of my class mates giggling. The girls started calling me Rocky, a name that has stuck, thankfully few know it's origins.

It was clear to me that I had to do something both to relieve my tension and quiet my hard on or I would become a laughing stock. I decided to skip my bath all together and spend the time jerking in the bathroom instead. I ran water and stripped and sat on the toilet and started to jerk away. I was on the verge of cuming. I had forgotten about mom. She knocked and barged in, just as she did, I was half into orgasm. It was like trying to stifle a hiccup. I think I may have hurt myself. She turned three shades of red her nipples went erect; she stammered for half a minute trying to think of something to say, then apologized and as she walked away saying that she would get a back brush for our bathroom. I sat there collecting myself for a couple minutes, I was still rock hard, I had only half cum and was actually a little sore from my dry jerk and how hard I had squeezed myself trying to abort my orgasm. I needed release. Mom would clearly not be back and strange as it sounds seeing her organic reaction, had me as horny as I had ever been.

I spat on my hand and started to jerk. It did not feel good. It actually burned a little. I looked around and found my sisters lotion I had never tried it I was concerned that she would know I had used it, and guessed how. It was a small travel bottle. I was desperate. I squeezed some out and applied it to my tender red prick. It felt amazing it was cool, soothing and slippery. It did not take long and I was on the verge again. Thinking about my sister's lotion and my mom's red face and hard nipples had me ready to explode; as I did it was not clear fluid, but a bunch of white stuff that looked liked puss. I was shocked and terrified that I had broken my penis! I applied some more lotion as the only treatment I could think of. As I did I must have gotten some down my pee slit, because it began to burn mercilessly. I was literally crying both from the pain and the thought that something that had brought me so much pleasure was broken.

I thought the only solution would be to pee it out. I turned and started to pee in the toilet; as soon as the stream started it was like someone had lit a fire in my penis. I tried to stop the stream but I had to go too badly. It took me like two minutes of stopping and starting to get done peeing. It still burned like hell. I sat and tried to figure what to do. The burning did not subside. Out of desperation I went to find my mom.

I looked around and found the door to her room closed. I knocked but there was no answer, I though maybe she had left to go shopping, but if she was there I needed to see her. I opened the door and she was spread out on the bed with head phones on watching porn and rubbing her pussy. I was like a dear in the head lights; she whipped the covers over her, and yelled for me to get out. I tried to establish my urgent need to talk to her as it had not fully registered what I had seen. She kept yelling for me to get out, as she fumbled to find the TV remote. I finally realized I was not going to get any help with my problem and I left. I went to find a place to hide to sort things out. My brothers and sisters were due home in a few minutes. I hid in the linen closet in just a towel. Eventually as my brothers and sisters started getting home mom came out she served them snacks and set up a game to play, and told them not to come up stairs until after dinner because I was working on home work, and could not be disturbed. She came to find me, first looking in the linen closet. How do moms know?

She took me by the hand and led me to her room. She apologized again about walking in on me, and for what I had seen in her room. She realized I was traumatized and that I would not have come in if I had not needed to see her. She asked what I needed. I told her and she was kind of dumb struck. I asked if she could look at it to make sure it would be all right. Her response was she was sure it would be OK in time. I pleaded with her to look at it, and make the pain stop. She relented and I showed her my penis. She assessed it looking at all sides and pulling the pee hole open slightly. I started to get hard. She smiled and assured me I would be fine. She told me to get dressed and to come back to her room.

When I returned she had moved her stuff out of one of the drawers in her desk. Inside was a bottle of stuff she said would not burn or leave me raw. She had a couple of her work out magazines she had confiscated weeks earlier from my room, and a box of tissues. She told me that I was to come to her room as soon as I got home from school and she would make sure I was not disturbed until dinner. She would tell the rest of the family I was working on home work. What had happened that afternoon would be our secret. All she asked is that I flush the tissues when I was dun. I couldn't believe my fortune. I really have an awesome mom!

The thought that she already had this lube and what she must have done with it fuelled many an orgasm. As time went on it was clear I was not the only one using it.



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