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Socker Boppers

Posted by: Age: 53 now Posted on: 0 comments
8 likes 660 views Category: Masturbation Male Solo Tags: Mother, Son, Toy, Caught, Male Solo

When I was about 13 years old,  my mother bought me some toys called Socker Boppers. They were basically blow up boxing gloves that my cousins and I could put on and then smack the dickens out of each other without leaving bruises, just red spots that stung badly if you did hit hard. Socker boppers were shaped like a puffy cylinder, made of vinyl, with a crinkled pocket formed into one of the flat ends for your fist to squeeze into. If you blew them up too much, they were impossible to fit your fist into because they were too tight. My younger cousin said one time that the opening for the fist looked like a “butthole” or a "pussy" and I told him he was gross. At the time that didn’t appeal to me. However, that stuck in my mind like many of the weird things he said. Years later, after going through puberty, I got an idea.


Many years later, after I had gone through all the body changes of puberty, I grew tired of the usual ways of masturbating. I began looking for things to masturbate with, to simulate a real pussy. These boppers seemed perfect, so I tried stuffing my penis into one. When it was blown up tight, I could fit, but it made me sore pretty fast while it was dry. I lessened the air so it was not so tight, but that didn’t feel as good either. So, I got a bottle of my mother’s lotion that smelled nice and brought it back to my room where I was experimenting. I put some on my penis and slipped into the fully inflated bopper. Oh my god! It felt so good. I stood there and pushed the bopper up and down until I came inside. I realized my mother would be home soon so I took it off and let the air out. I wiped the inside out and hid it inside the back of my closet until the next time. I couldn’t use the boppers every time I needed to masturbate. There was too much of a chance of getting caught. Besides, I had learned that if you don’t wash them out, they get gross. So, using one was a treat. I also learned that there was a good fantasy possible if I held it against my bed or my desk and pumped my hips. I could pretend I was having sex with some girl I liked. Well, one day I was in my room humping away and I didn’t hear my mother drive up in her car. I did hear her call from the back room to say she needed me to go out and get stuff from her car, though. Unfortunately, I was naked, cock hard as a rock and seconds from ejaculating. I managed to pull out and quickly slipped my shorts, and t-shirt on. I left my bedroom in a hurry and stupidly left mom’s lotion and the bopper on the floor by my bed. Mom looked at me quizzically and asked what took me so long. Mom had a bag of groceries and told me to get outside and get the rest, unload the dog food and feed him, get the salt for the water softener and put both of the bags in the machine, and then go out front and water all her flowers. I rushed past and out the door, hoping she wouldn’t see the bulge in my shorts. I had accomplished everything except for the watering when I heard her calling me loudly from inside the house. I went back inside the house and looked for my mother in the family room, then the kitchen. Then I heard her call louder still from the bedrooms. I went back there and found her in my room. A basket of clean laundry was on my bed and she was holding the lotion bottle and the bopper. “What is this about? You have my good lotion? It’s expensive you know,” Mom began the inquiry. “Did you have friends over playing boxing with these things?” I told my mother they hadn’t been over. As I did that she was looking at the bopper and noticed that there was lotion in the hole. She lifted it to her face and sniffed. “That IS my lotion in there. What in the world were you doing with my lotion?” she asked with increasing agitation. She sniffed again and then put her lotion down on my bed and used that hand to reach her fingers and feel inside, then sniffed and looked at her hand. I was mortified and looking down at my feet and my face felt so hot. She held her hand out at me. “Tell me I’m not smelling what I think, tell me that,” Mom demanded. I said nothing. “You had your penis in there and I am smelling sperm, aren’t I?” I then opened up a little because I could tell from her tone that she was going to be more angry if I didn’t get honest really fast. “Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” I admitted. “Mom, it just felt really good, but that was not my sperm. I was using it but I didn’t, you know, I mean, you came home and there was no way, I mean.”

She totally lost her stern demeanor when I opened up and I could tell she was going to be cool about it. “Oh so that was it then!” Mom exclaimed. “You were using my good, I mean expensive, lotion to masturbate inside this thing. But I interrupted you. Well, you were a good boy to stop and come help me with things but don’t use this lotion for that, please. It costs too much. You can use the usual hand cream, OK?” I shook my head yes. “So don’t you hurt?” Mom asked me. I didn’t quite understand and asked her what she meant. “I thought boys balls would hurt if they got all excited and then didn’t ejaculate. Do yours hurt now?” She looked at her hand and then reached back in the bopper and felt around. “It sure feels slick and not like the lotion. Are you sure you didn’t? I mean if you are not having your balls hurt?” I told her I didn’t finish but that I did feel like sort of a pain from it and I was sorry that I had made a mess inside the bopper. She left my bedroom and took the bopper and her lotion. I heard the sink run and followed to find her washing her hands then she took the bopper and used the other hand cream and squirted quite a bit in the bopper. “Here you go, now get in your bedroom and do what you need. Use that cream from now on and not the good kind, please.” I must have looked shocked. “Yes, I’m serious about it. Don’t use it anymore and yes, you should go do what you need so your balls don’t hurt. Just wash that thing after you use it. I don’t want someone to come over and put their hand in it if you leave it all full.” I was both embarrassed and turned on by my mother's frankness and the fact that her hand had touched the place where my penis had been recently. Even more so, how amazing it was that she touched my juice mixed with lotion. It didn't take long after I dropped my shorts to get hard and stick it in, feeling the cool hand cream, fantasizing that it was my mother’s hand I was feeling around my erection. In a few minutes I came really hard. I pulled out and realized I didn't have any tissues left to wipe off with so I pulled up my shorts and took the bopper with me to the bathroom. As I went down the hall, I heard my mother behind me, “Done with your activity?” “Uh, yeah, I guess so. Sorry if I took too long. I didn't mean to waste time,” I replied. “Too long? No, probably not enough. Shouldn't pleasure be savored?” Mom continued. I kind of shrugged and acted like I didn't know what she meant. As I went into the bathroom she went on about taking me to some concert with her over the weekend and I'd need to dress nice. I stood there holding the bopper waiting for her to leave before cleaning it out but she went on and on. Then she addressed just that, “So, are you going to wash it out?” “Mom! You gotta leave, don't you?” “I don't know what you mean. I want to finish the discussion. Oh, and what do you use to clean that thing up?” she asked. I told her I used warm water. “Are you serious? Doesn't it start stinking of your sperm? Use that liquid soap we have under there in the cabinet so it can be more sanitary,“ Mom directed, then went on and on about the concert and the performers. I squatted down with the bopper in one hand and looked but didn't see the soap. “Can't you find it? It must be in the back. Look more carefully. You're going to love how these two play piano duets.” I had to set the bopper on the linoleum floor to use both hands to look. I also changed my posture to being on one knee so I could lean in further. I had just found the bottle when I heard Mom say, “And of course they'll have recordings for sale so. Oh crap, John, look what just happened.” I pulled my head out of the cabinet and turned to look which had the effect of opening my thighs toward my mother. I saw that the bopper had rolled over and the contents were running out onto the floor. Hastily I made a one-handed grab at it but instead lifted then dropped it opening side down. That completely emptied it. “John, cover yourself,” was my mother’s next complaint. I looked at her, not sure what she meant and she pointed low toward me. I looked and from my short shorts, that guys wore back then, my balls had fallen out. I stood up and adjusted my testicle back inside. Mom joked, “Hey, at least now your balls look nice and relaxed, so much they were dangling out. And I didn't see any blue at all, just nice and pink and hairy.” Mom then stepped over and picked up the bopper and set it in the bathtub. She looked at the two puddles on the floor. “I mean, dang, what a mess. That's a lot and that's not all hand cream there,” Mom remarked. “Are you ok? I mean is that usual?” I told her I guessed so. The situation was getting me going again and my penis was swelling. I knelt down with a couple of tissues to wipe up the floor but Mom said to wait and not waste them and went to the hall cabinet, returning with 409 and paper towels. “It's too much for tissues and besides, sperm is so sticky it will paste them to the floor without some cleaner. And the smell of sperm will linger if you don't.” I worked furiously to clean it up because my mother saying sperm over and over, and her knowing that cum was sticky were turning me on more. And when had my mother wiped up sticky cum with a tissue and gotten it stuck. I never thought of her doing something like that. When I finished, I stood up and threw away the paper towels and saw Mom looking at me. “You don’t look so relaxed any more. Maybe you need another turn with that thing?” she suggested. I realized my penis was mostly hard in those tight shorts and she could see it. I picked up the bopper and told her I would just wash it out. Mom asked if I was opposed to putting myself back inside there and then said something about how sometimes making love you can have intercourse several times in a row so getting skeeved about your own sperm is something I might want to get over. “Well, your choice but dinner's almost ready. That’s what came to tell you. Whichever you decide, don’t leave a mess all over, please. And maybe some underwear would help. I don’t want that staring at me during dinner and the boys need some support.” Mom left and headed for the kitchen. Well, I did put on some briefs once I finished in the bathroom. And I did take her idea and used it again before I washed it with that idea she had implanted that I was having sex with a woman for the second time in row, a pretty hot thought to me back then.

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