I treasure my memories of my mother's nurturing care. From the tender guidance to gentle washing at bath time, each remembrance brings a wave of comfort and love. My strongest feeling of comfort stimulated by a memory of my mother is when she would take my temperature.
Her kind voice would tell me to push, and the lubricated thermometer would slide into my bottom. Then I would enjoy the feeling of her warm hand on my bottom as she waited for the temperature to settle. There would be a brief sensuous slide as she pulled it out, then she would wipe the petroleum jelly from my behind and pull down my nightshirt. Sometimes I would declare a fever just to feel her hand and the luxurious push and pull of the thermometer on my nether regions.
When I was eleven, I got a real fever. In light of my starting the process of puberty, mom was hesitant to take my temperature the old fashioned way. I had to convince her it was okay.
Oh, the wonderful feeling of the glass cylinder penetrating my anus! The increased intensity of the sensations surprised me. Even more surprising was my growing erection as her soft hand lay on my smooth bottom. By the time she slowly pulled the thermometer out, I had a full hard-on.
Half of me wanted to show my mom what my body could do now. Half of me was embarrassed by my sexual response to what used to be a Platonic (though intimate) experience. I ended up lying on my stomach and drifting off to sleep.
The next day, mom and dad both had to go to work. Mom told me that I was old enough to know what to do and not do, so she was going to trust me and leave me home alone. Two hours of TV were enough to bore me to tears. So I went to bed and let my mind wander.
It wandered from school I was missing to friends I wasn't eating with today to Allicia, a sixth-grade girl I was madly in love with, but had never spoken to. The tug of sexual feeling was relatively new, but I knew somewhat what it meant.
I considered masturbating. My dad had taught me about that and had shown me where to find the lubricant in the master bedroom. I jumped up, my penis already making a tent of my nightgown. Jumping up made my headache to burst, so I stood still for a minute, then slowly walked to their room.
When I opened the drawer, there was something that wasn't there when dad had shown me the lubricant. It looked like a large purple dick. Curiously, I picked it up. My own dick went rock hard. Then the memory of a thermometer drifted into my sick head.
My penis remained hard, and my heart beat rapidly at the thought. Grabbing the lube, I went to the bathroom and retrieved the thermometer. The only reason I didn't run to bed was my splitting headache.
I lubed the thermometer and with some worry, slowly inserted it. The sensuous rush spread from my bottom up and down my body. When I pulled it out, I felt another rush. In and out it went, slowly at first, then faster and faster. I felt something building up inside me, something exciting.
Almost without thinking, I whisked the glass rod in and out so fast, I could hardly tell if it was coming or going. Then my muscles tightened around the thermometer and in my groin. For the first time, I felt the rhythmic pulse of an orgasm.
Today, I still feel a special thrill when my girlfriend works me with a dildo. She places on hand gently on my bottom, and with the other works the dildo. She goes slowly at first, then, as I approach orgasm, quickly. While the orgasms I get this way are not my best, they have a special quality of nurturing that I adore.