Bedtime with mom watching

When I was a teenager, I was, like every other boy, awanking fiend. One of my favorite opportunities was at bedtime. I’d usually ruba quick one out, then rest a bit, then go for a second load, making it last somewhatlonger.

The problem was that my mom would come in for a chat after she wasready for bed, and she’d sit on the side of my bed and we’d talk about normalstuff, like what had happened today and what the plan was for tomorrow.Usually, I’d be finished with my second load by the time she came in, and I’dhad time to clean up, hide my tissues under the sheets and pull the covers upover me. If I wasn’t done when I heard her come out of the bathroom, I’d juststop what I was doing, talk with her, then finish up after she left.

Like a normal kid, I figured that I was being really cleverand she had no idea what I’d been doing. Yeah, right.

You can imagine what inevitably happened. I was working onmy second load, and by the time I heard her flush the toilet, I was almostready to cum. My little head thought I had time to finish, and I was almost atthe point of no return, so I couldn’t stop. I had just shot the last squirt ofmy load when she walked in. I’d had no time to clean up or even cover myself.There I was, with a wet dick, a wet hand, and a load of cum on my stomach.

It all happened so fast, I don’t know what I did. I probablyfroze in terror. But she was calm. She just picked up the box of tissues andhanded them to me. She said “Let’s clean you up,” or something like that. Andshe took tissues out of the box, cleaned my stomach and my belly button. Thenshe handed me a tissue, pointed to my wet dick, and told me that I needed toclean that part myself. I did.

I should point out that we were hardly a nudist household.

Under normal circumstances, I would have died of embarrassment if she’d seen menaked, but I had already died of embarrassment for other reasons, so there wasnothing else I could do.

I really wanted her to leave, but she didn’t. She sat downon the side of my bed, like she always did, and told me all the expected stuff--It was completely normal. All boys did it. It was nothing to be embarrassed about.It was no secret what I’d been doing in bed at bedtime. Just like any good momwould do. Then she added the killer. “You don’t have to stop when I come in. Ifyou’re busy, I’ll just come back later.”

The more I thought about it over the next few days, thebetter than sounded. What horny boy, deep in his heart of hearts, doesn’t wantto be watched, especially by his mom? So that night, I timed it, edging,keeping myself on the brink of orgasm, waiting for her. Then, when the toiletflushed and I knew she’d be coming into my room, I just kept wanking. There Iwas, completely uncovered, hard dick in my hand, with tissues from my firstload unabashedly sitting on my nightstand.

When she saw what was going on, she was a bit startled, butkept her composure. She asked if I wanted her to come back later. I hadrehearsed my answer. I told her that I was almost done and she should stay. It tookonly a few more strokes and I shot my load, with my mom watching the wholething. You know what she did? Just like the first time, she sat on the edge ofmy bed and picked up the box of tissues and helped me clean up. Just as if itwere a completely normal thing to do.

Needless to say, I arranged for this to happen nearly everynight after that.