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The White Rabbit

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: Solo-Touch-Bot Posted on: 31 Jan 2011 1 comments
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Category: Male-Female (MF)
Submitted by: Anymouse Age: 40 Gender: Male

Mostly true story, about 9/10ths, I'd say. It's about how my mother caught me masturbating and witnessed my first ejaculation...

Sex did not exist until the summer of my 13th birthday. Girls my age were both attractive and repulsive forces. Adult women were mystery incarnate -- they seemed to hold some special secret that I could not identify. They were, and are, powerful objects of cultural worship. Entire magazines are devoted to the female body. It was these magazines I found at my grandfather's house that began to unravel that mystery and present yet another: that of my own body.

Most of this story is true. There is some embellishment toward the end, but not much. It was an unusual experience and, because of its remote proximity to my current age, I thought I had maybe misremembered some of the details. I never spoke to my mother about it until a few years ago, but I was too curious about what actually happened that day that I decided to simply ask. It was embarrassing topic to even allude to -- so I decided to ask directly.

My mother was a bit overprotective. Part of this was instinct to excess and part was a practical reaction to a little boy who was too curious for his own safety. Matches needed to be well hidden; anything ignitable, in fact. I tended to find things like lawnmower gas cans or flammable aerosol bottles, with predictably explosive results. When I wanted to discover how something worked, I had no compunction about grabbing a screwdriver to start dismantling it immediately. Radios and other unfortunate electronic devices were often discovered disemboweled on the kitchen floor. Any time I was out of earshot or line-of-sight, bad things tended to happen.

This summer was different, however. The usual victims of my curiosity slept more soundly when I discovered a far more complex and engaging toy -- my own body. My grandfather did not hide his magazines well. One only needed to thumb through the stack under the living room coffee table to find something a bit more risqu? than the National Geographic and Sears catalogs. Magazines full of nude women stretched out luxuriously and photographed with a dim and hazy eye. I knew there was something different about these magazines because I began to tremble and pant upon the merest glance at its glossy pages. I discovered sexual arousal.

But I also discovered that this arousal seemed intensely personal. I was undergoing a physiological transformation that also informed a psychological transformation. I felt awkward and embarrassed by my reaction. I also discovered that this reaction was intimately and inexplicably centered on the sensations in my throbbing and erect penis.

So, I secreted away with the magazines to find out how this worked. I experimented rubbing myself against things: bits of foam, different textiles, beds, pillows. I found that inserting my penis into something was particularly satisfying. I used empty toilet paper rolls, folded cushions, rolled up rugs -- anything that could represent an orifice. Then I found the softest, warmest and most exquisite masturbation device: a white rabbit fur blanket.

It was soft and silky and I could easily wrap it around my erect penis and create an artificial vagina that I could thrust against. The sensations it produced were extraordinary, but ultimately I left unsatisfied. When I rubbed myself with it for a while, I always felt as if I had to pee. It ruined everything. There was always this barrier over which I could not see -- until that day about which I have such intense and conflicting memories.

I had taken one of my favorite magazines and hidden myself in my grandfather's walk-in closet at the back of the house. I pulled the rabbit fur blanket off the bed and immediately unbuckled my pants which I, unluckily, dropped outside the closet. I was already trembling uncontrollably. I wanted to know what was beyond that wall and made sure that I peed beforehand. I hadn't even opened the magazine and my erection was already fully engorged and throbbing for attention. I curled the blanket around my penis, which intensified the heat it was already generating. My eyes rolled back as I caressed my penis with its warm, silky fur. I lavished my gaze on the nude body in front me. She seemed to be entirely composed of curves: a complex geometrical problem to my eyes. Something remained hidden between her legs -- an enticing patch of fuzz hiding...what? I wondered if putting my penis there would be as soft and silky as my blanket.

My breathing was hoarse and often coming is gasps. My erection throbbed and convulsed -- as if it wanted to burst. I had a feeling of acceleration. The world was speeding up and I was being pulled along with a gravity I had never felt before. I felt I needed to pee again, but this time I ignored it. I could feel every contour, every vein and capillary in my engorged penis. I felt the sensation of a dry twig snapping under my feet -- the precise physical sensation of a sound. Some kind of internal alarm went off when my penis suddenly pounded with a resonation I could feel throughout my body. My racing heart and throbbing temples were momentarily eclipsed. A strange sensation of release caused me to let go of the blanket. The head of my erection was a glassy red mushroom that seemed to keep expanding. The slit was engorged and suddenly opened wide as a white, milky fluid began to gush to the surface.

And then the door opened.

My mother was a nurse and was used to seeing the human body in all its manifestations. But this was entirely new because it came with an emotional impact. Those disparate ideas, I think, caused her to act as she did: on the one hand a matter-of-fact and practical knowledge of the human body and on the other a sort of empathy with what I was experiencing. When I asked her directly what happened that day, she told me she had to make an immediate choice. "In that moment, I realized what was happening for you and I didn't want to over-react. It was an important experience for you, one would always remember, and I did not want to ruin it for you," she said. "One moment you were my little boy, and the next moment I was witnessing your full sexual arousal and first ejaculation."

Her immediate reaction was that of alarm and frustration. "Matthew! What are you...? Wait, hold still! I don't want you to stain that blanket, it's very expensive!" She rushed into the bathroom and quickly returned with some toilet tissue and knelt down in front of me. "Here!," she said and thrust the tissues toward me. I guess I didn't react fast enough, so she simply reached out and grabbed the base of my erect penis and started to wipe the semen that was running down the shaft.

And then it happened.

She had startled me mid-ejaculation and had frozen that moment in time. Now the clock had wound down and reality raced back to keep up with the quickening tempo of my pulse. As she held my erect penis in one hand and wiped upward toward the head with the other it seemed to explode in size, as if seen through a distorted, convex lens. It gave one resolute kick in her hand and throbbed with a sickening and dizzying pulse. I was now having my very first ejaculation...right into my mother's hands.

"Oh!...um...okay,okay! It's alright...just let it go" She quickly dropped the tissue and cupped her hand under the swelling head of my penis as the hot, milky semen gushed out with waves of intense pleasure. I was gasping, trembling and panting all at once. It pooled in her hand as my penis throbbed and convulsed with each discharge of hot semen. "It's ok," she assured in a slightly panicked voice, "this is normal. Just let it all out. You're having an ejaculation. This happens to boys when they're excited."

She was kneeling in front of me, her body very close to mine. I could smell her hair and her feminine warmth. Something about it had to do with the mystery of women I found in the magazines. In that moment I swirled with conflicting feelings of embarrassment and intense excitement. Her soft, delicate hand held the shaft of my throbbing and convulsing erection as the other balanced gingerly at the head as I continued to helplessly ejaculate into it.

And then she did something I didn't expect. For years afterward, I did not think it was true. She released her firm grip on the shaft of my penis and her touch became softer. She moved her hand upward and then gently back down to the base in a rhythm that matched the contractions of my ejaculation. She was softly stroking my penis; masturbating me. It was purposeful and seemed to acknowledge that she knew something about what my body was doing. And my body responded quickly and decisively to the new stimulation. My penis tried to bolt from her hands and jumped upward as her caress reached the head of my erection. I groaned as a hot valve of pressure released and shot a sudden spurt of semen in a thick, white rope -- two more spurts quickly following. She pulled back for a moment as the semen landed on her blouse and hair.

"That's ok honey. It's alright. You're just excited. It's ok to let it out. I'm sure this feels very good for you. Just enjoy what you're feeling. I'll help you a little. Is that ok?" I gasped and nodded weakly. She continued to gently stroke me as the waves subsided and gush of semen slowed. I was trembling even as she continued to assure me that all was well. She gently massaged the shaft and squeezed the remaining drops of ejaculate from my softening penis into her hand. Still trembling I leaned toward her and rested my head against her shoulder. Her skin felt hot against my cheek and I could feel her heartbeat, it was almost as quick as mine. She breathed heavily as if trying to catch her breath. We were both panting loudly in the now sweltering heat of the closet where the air hung heavy and thick with the smell of perspiration and semen.

We stayed in that position for a long time as she continued to gently stroke my semi-erect penis which still mildly throbbed with pleasure. I gasped at intervals that matched the movement of her hand along my penis...sobbing slightly. It felt good and I didn't want her to stop, yet I was deeply embarrassed that my own mother was now sharing this intensely private feeling with me. "Shhh," she whispered in my ear "everything is ok. I know this feels good for you and it's alright to enjoy it. It shouldn't have happened this way, but I didn't want to frighten you. Masturbating is perfectly normal." At length she gently pulled away and cupped her hands together to keep my semen from spilling out.

"I'm going to clean up and get you a washcloth. Stay right there. Just relax." She got up and hurried to the bathroom where I heard the water running. I was hot all over and a bit dizzy. My penis still ached and throbbed a little. She returned with a wet washcloth and cleaned me up.

"I know that was something very pleasurable for you," she said. "I'm sorry I interrupted you. You should have really enjoyed that in private, but I was worried you were getting into trouble. I saw your pants outside the closet...I...guess I should have known."

She sat with me a moment and assured me what I experienced and felt was all normal. She took the magazine and asked if I had any questions about what was in it. I looked at her blankly and then blurted out, "what is between a girl's legs?" She stopped for a moment and then began to explain the basics of human reproduction. I was curious and asked more questions which she answered very directly.

I was still kneeling in the closet, naked from the waist down sporting a slowly fading erection. But as my mother began to explain the basics of sexual intercourse, opening the magazine to illustrate physiology, my face flushed hot. I started to pant and tremble again as my penis quickly reversed its downward trajectory. She noticed the flush of my skin, my heavy breathing, and looked down to notice that I was fully erect again. She paused for a moment, then said "I forgot. Your hormones are probably really intense right now. Do you want me to leave you alone? I need to take the blanket though." I shook my head slowly. "You want me to stay." she said flatly. I nodded; my pulse quickened at what I was thinking. I swallowed hard and gasped hoarsely, "..will you..?" "...help you again?" she finished to herself, trailing off slightly and looking away. I nodded and flushed with embarrassment. She quickly got up and walked to the bathroom.

I thought that was the end of it until I heard her returning. She sat in front of me again, holding a small bottle in her hand. "Come closer," she said. I shuffled forward on my knees until I was almost touching her. "I want to explain something," she said. "This is not what mothers do for their sons. From now on, this is something for you do to in private. Do you understand?" I nodded. She sighed, "I know you are excited and all these feelings are new. I want this to be a good experience for you, it's something you'll always remember. I want you to have good memories about your first ejaculation and experience of sexuality. That's why I'm willing to do this for you, but just this once. Ok?" I nodded again.

She paused and then uncapped the bottle, pouring a small amount of a clear liquid into her hand. "Here," she said "I want you to start," and offered me the liquid which she transferred to my hand. "Now rub it on your penis," she said. I spread the liquid on my erection as she watched. She took my hand, "Do as I did and hold it like this," she said as she curled my fingers around the shaft. "Now...stroke it back and forth, just as you were with the blanket." She started to move my hand and I loosened my grip so it started to slide along my erection. My penis responded by jerking back, the swollen head flushing with color.

She watched me as I began to pleasure myself, occasionally guiding my hand. My breathing had become ragged again; it hitched unevenly in sighs and gasps. She then gently replaced my hand with hers. This was a very different experience of my mother. It was intimate, loving yet intensely sexual. I became more excited and trembled with arousal, my body flushing with heat. I reached out to touch her hair while she slowly stroked my erection.

Then, in my excitement, I did something bold: I clumsily pawed at her breasts through her thin blouse. She pulled away from me at first and let go of my erection. I thought I had made her angry. I started to mumble words of apology when she reached down her blouse and unclasped her bra from the front. Her breasts swung slightly under her blouse. Without saying a word she took my hand and gently placed in on her breast while she resumed stroking.

I explored the impossible softness of her now heaving breast and the surprising tautness of her nipple. Something had changed between us, though. The clear boundaries between mother and son and son and lover blurred in one dream-like moment, where such distinctions dissolved into a murky pool of absurdity. Here, on the floor of the closet, in her parent's house, she shared an intimate moment with her own child, whom she had offered a forbidden sexual pleasure. She looked away, as if lost in a thought, while my excitement mounted exponentially. Then, for one intense moment, she looked directly at me -- her brilliant blue eyes reflecting the same eyes I inherited from her. I gasped and clutched at her as she increased her tempo. I was helplessly lost in my own budding sexual excitement, pinned down by the oppressive urgency my body demanded so suddenly. And, in that moment, body hunched over, gasping and panting, the stars aligned behind my eyes that fell headlong into my mother's resolute gaze as I began to ejaculate onto her now bare breasts. Her eyes dimmed slightly and she looked away again. She had stopped stroking me as my penis continued to convulse in her hands and pulled me toward her, rubbing the head of my still excited penis against her warm bosom.

We never talked about that day. It remained a clear and yet suspiciously outrageous memory. She was right, it should not have happened that way. She made a judgment call in one visceral moment and bonded with me in a way that I'll never forget. When I asked her decades later about that day, she confirmed the details I thought I had misremembered or invented. "No," she said after a brief pause "that was basically what happened." She looked away again just as she did on that day so long ago; lost in a thought. "I didn't know what to do in that moment," she continued. "You surprised me just as much as I surprised you. I had never seen you this way before and in that instant I held in my hands something that was very powerful for you. You were excited and anxious; I could sense your fear at being discovered. And...you were starting to ejaculate; I could see what it meant for you. I decided to help you experience the pleasure you wanted so much."

"And afterward, when I asked you to..." I started to say. She looked away briefly, and then locked her bright blue eyes with mine. "I don't regret that," she said. "I don't think you do either. I made it clear what the boundaries were. You never asked me again and I never offered. It didn't affect our relationship and you developed into a normal, healthy adult. At the time, though, you were an intensely curious boy with an equally intense desire to know what sex was about. You always taught yourself about the world with a very hand-on approach, and this was no different."

And that was it. We never talked about it again, we mutually decided to close that chapter and leave enduring memories alone. That she confirmed the truth of what I experienced that day was enough. It's not something I think most people would understand and it's with some trepidation that I'm posting it here. As I said, most of this is true -- a good 90%---and some is exaggerated. I'll leave to you to decide what to believe.

[lb][i]This story was originally submitted to Solo Touch and not published because it violates the rules.[/i][rb]