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  • Mom's Helping Hands Ch. 01

Mom's Helping Hands Ch. 01

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He looked at the cast on his wrist and felt yet another pang of regret. He had broken it trying to do a trick on a skateboard that he couldn't do, to impress a bunch of guys that he barely even tolerated, and now his wrist was broken. Mother was talking about something as she drove us home from the hospital, but it was hard to pay attention. He was thinking about how difficult everything was going to be for me with this bum wrist with my hand half covered in a cast.

He was marginal at best at using my left hand for anything, and couldn't imagine how hard school was going to be when I would have to write all my essays with my right hand. The thought of turning in an essay about the Franco-Prussian War written in the 3-year old scratch that his left hand was capable of producing brought an audible laugh to his lips.

"Do you think this is funny?" Mother asked as she made the turn that would bring her down their street.

"You're just lucky that our insurance is going to cover most of the hospital visit. And all for what? So you could show off to a bunch of high-school blockheads? You're smarter than all of that!"

"I know, mother..." was all he could mumble, staring down at the cast. Damn his stupid mouth for laughing...

She continued to drone on about safety and how he knew better than to do something as stupid as that. They had always had a great relationship where they could talk about anything, discussing when they had problems or he did something wrong, but this time was much different. She was very upset, and wouldn't even allow him to try to explain himself. His broken wrist seemed to worry her incredibly.

They pulled up to the house, a mass produced suburban home manufactured by the lowest bidder. While it may have had 2 stories, it was just as uninspired as the rest of the homes on his street.

He never understood why they lived here. His father made more than enough to live somewhere nicer. He had always imagined that a home should be like a piece of art, whereas this building was merely a collaboration of plaster and shingles that would keep the rain out. It may look nice, but it had no heart.

She pulled up to the driveway and parked the car. He unbuckled his seatbelt using his left hand, the first of many limitations he would have while he wore this cast.

The last thing he could remember was opening the car door and taking a step out the same as he had thousands of times before.

Except this wasn't any of those times, the second his body was out of the vehicle, he fell sideways and hit the concrete driveway hard with his shoulder. He could barely feel it, the pain killers they gave him were very good, obviously too good, as he couldn't keep his balance long enough to keep from falling down.

His mother screamed and ran to his side, turning him over to inspect the damage. Luckily, aside from a torn shirt and a scratch on his shoulder, he was just fine.

She helped him up as best as she could. She was not as tall as he was, and nowhere near strong enough to lift his full weight, so the best she could do was put herself under his arm and help him take one step at a time, trying to put his weight on her.

"You have to take care of yourself... I can't bear to see you hurt..." She stammered. Her voice was odd, but his pain killer induced haze was confusing him as to why she sounded so odd. He looked over at her and saw her eyes watering as she tried to hold tears back. It confused him even more, but before he could use his limited thinking capacity on it, they had made it to his room.

She helped him lay down on his bed as his shock and drug induced exhaustion got the better of him and he fell into blissful sleep. She sighed and proceeded to remove his shoes, to keep his bed from getting dirty, and bundled him in a blanket to keep him warm while he slept...

- - - - - - - - - - -

It had been two full weeks since getting the cast, and according to the doctors, it would be at least another 6 until he could have it removed.

The fears he had immediately after breaking it turned out to be a bit less founded than he originally feared. He had just enough finger movement to be able to write. While it was barely legible, it was still preferable to using his left hand. He found that he could still do most things, if not a bit awkwardly, except one.

The day after the he broke his wrist, he had tried to have some "personal time" with himself before bed, but found it nearly impossible to do. His limited finger movement and the abrasiveness of the plaster cast made it impossible to grasp his own cock.

He has tried to use his left hand, but he couldn't get a proper grip on it and he was so awkward with it that the rhythm was just all wrong. Now, after 2 weeks of no release, everything had him on edge. He was walking around with an almost constant erection, he was irritable and prone to lashing out at people, and everything seemed to make him horny.

His attention in class lately had been terrible. He found he could do very little other than stare at the girls in class and daydream of all the things he wanted them to do to him. The time he would have spent studying was spent doing immature things to try and impress the girls, hoping one of them was just morally loose enough to let him in her pants.

Yesterday, while his mother was doing laundry, she was walking around the house in her "laundry day clothes", a pair of bicycle shorts and a shirt that was one size too small. He had never thought of his mother as an object of sexual desire, but watching her breasts bounce as her nipples poked through the shirt was nearly more than he could take.

She was still attractive for her age, she was average height, he didn't know exactly how tall, but she was a bit shorter than he was. She had dark brown hair that came down to the top of her back. She was still very lean, her breasts had begun to sag a bit due to age, but still perky enough to be desirable. He had always fancied himself as an ass man, something that his mother lacked. She had what most men would call a nice ass, but it was nothing to look twice at.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts of his mother, then slammed his left hand on the desk in his room and swore. This was very quickly becoming more than he could handle.

"How bad off does a guy have to be to start thinking about his mom like that? God, I wish I could get laid..."

He heard two knocks at his door before his mother walked in, not waiting for a response from him.

"We need to have a talk" she stated in her most matter of fact voice. This usually meant that she was going to say what was on her mind, and they would talk about it. He had always had an extremely open relationship with his mother. They had really bonded in a way that he and his father never had. Even when he was in trouble, it usually was a matter of them discussing what he did wrong and talking it out, but he was in no mood for any type of discussion today.

'Yeah?"

She seemed a bit surprised by his answer, but that did not stop her from saying what she had come in to say.

"I just got off the phone with your principal. Apparently, a number of your teachers have told him they are worried about your performance lately. They say you aren't paying attention in class and that you're goofing around and interrupting lessons."

"So what?" he stated, uncaringly. The last thing in the world he cared about right now was school.

She looked at him in shock, which quickly changed to anger. "So what!? This is your senior year of high school! You're already home free, all you have to do at this point is show up and with your grades you will get into a great college! If you start slacking off now and let your GPA fall, it could really damage that possibility!"

He looked at her angrily, "Yeah? Well what if I don't give a damn about college!?" She looked in shock at the way he was speaking to her. "And I don't know how it's any of your damn business! As you say, this is my senior year! I'm already 18! I'll be out of high school soon and you won't have to worry about me anymore!"

She looked at him in complete shock. He had never spoken to her this way before. They had always discussed everything and then laughed about it afterwards. His behavior was too drastic for her to fully comprehend. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts. She stood and left the room without saying another word, as he quickly stood and slammed the door, locking it from the inside and leaving her in the hallway.

He walked back to his desk and plopped down in his chair. He held his anger inside for mere moments before the utter guilt at the way he had just spoken to her began to build inside of him. He sighed and put his head in his hand and sat, thinking of some way he could apologize to her. He decided his best course of action was to just wait a while and talk to her later.

Several hours went by before he heard another knock at his door. He looked at the clock and assumed it was his father, coming to berate him for the way he spoke to his mother. He stood up and walked to the door, unlocking it and slowly opening it, waiting for the barrage of harsh words to come, but when he looked outside his room, he only saw his mother there.

She spoke in a soft voice, not looking at him. "Your father is working late again, so we will eat dinner without him tonight."

"Okay..." He said, not able to think of anything else to say.

"Can I come in and talk about what happened earlier today?" She asked, sounding almost hopeful. He looked at her and felt terrible. They had always had a strong bond, ever since he was a little boy, and after all these years he had verbally spit in her face because of his own sexual frustration.

"Sure" he said, not wanting to say anything more than that yet. He walked and sat down in his desk chair. It seemed the better choice as it would be easier to hide what was now becoming his never ending erection.

She walked in and sat on his bed, facing him. "Look... about school..."

He interrupted her, wanting to try and alleviate her fears. "I'm sorry, I'll start paying attention in class more and settle down." He said, more of an edge in his voice than he meant for there to be.

"No, that's not it, or, it is, but I don't think it's the underlying issue... Something is bothering you. Even if it wasn't for your behavior at school that display earlier made that completely obvious. What is wrong?" she asked. He could tell that she truly wanted an answer, to try and be able to help him somehow, but he knew there was no way she could help him with his problem.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." Was all he said, sounding like every rebellious teenager since time began.

"It's obviously something". He began to make another claim that it truly wasn't anything important and she interrupted him. "You have never spoken to me that way in your entire life. Daniel, we've been able to discuss everything since you were a little boy. What is so bad now that you can't talk with me about it?" She asked.

She said it almost pleadingly, and her words cut deep. It was true, they had discussed almost everything since he was a young boy. She had always been the one he had confided in and gone to for advice. He definitely wanted to tell her some lie, but he knew that the moment he tried, she would see right through him.

"It's... well... I haven't been able to... "Relieve" myself since I broke my wrist..." His face was absolutely blood red at this point. She gave him a confused look for a moment, until he lifted up the cast around his arm and hand and her eyes went wide in understanding. "Oh..."

"Yeah... it's made it almost impossible to pay any attention in class... All I can think about in class are... the uh... The girls in class with me..." he said. "And I guess my "disruptions" are mostly just me trying to impress them so I can try and uh..." Even if he did talk to her about everything, he couldn't tell her that he was trying to impress them in hopes to sleep with one of them, though she probably understood perfectly.

"I see..." she said. "Have you tried to use... ummm... you're other hand...?" she asked a bit sheepishly. Obviously talking about sex with her son wasn't a conversation she would be enjoying much either.

He nodded. "Yes, it's not the same, I can't... ummm... well, I just can't." he stated, not wanting to go into further details about his masturbation habits. "Even the few times I'm not insanely hormonally charged it's too hard to concentrate because of the pain."

She sat a bit straighter at that. "Pain?" she asked.

He nodded, looking at the ground. "Yeah... it's been so long since I... "Relieved myself" that it's starting to hurt quite a bit, it's hard to concentrate."

"I see..." she stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke again, "Well... that... that doesn't excuse your behavior at school." She stated bluntly. "I do not want to get another call like that one, you just started your senior year and I want you to get into a good college, so you need to work through this until you are better."

"Fine..." he said glumly, eager for the conversation to be over.

"I told your principal to call me again if they have any more issues." She got up and walked to the door.

"And Daniel... you know that you can come to me with anything, we've always been able to talk about everything and anything. Even... awkward conversations like this."

"Yeah mom." He stated bluntly, turning away from her and not looking at her anymore.

She sighed and closed the door behind her as she left the room. Daniel attempted futilely one last time to masturbate with his left hand, and he nearly got himself off before he completely lost all rhythm and stopped, punching his desk in frustration and going to bed.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

It had only been a few days since he and his mother spoke about his little... "problem". He tried to avoid thinking about it. He was browsing the Internet, trying to get his mind off the aching between his legs when he heard a knock at his door.

"... Yeah?" He said, hesitantly.

His mother opened the door and stepped in, she did not say anything to him, and she just slowly walked to the bed and sat down on its edge. She looked down at the ground for several moments, not saying anything. He began to wonder why she came, and was just about to ask her as she spoke.

"Your principal called again today..." she said very quietly.

"Oh." Was the only thing he could think to say. He waited for it, the barrage and screams. She had never screamed at him before, they had always discussed everything and he had usually realized she was right, but he had never screwed up this big before.

The screaming never came, however. When she spoke, it was in a soft, quiet voice. "If what you told me earlier this week is true... then I suppose I can't say that I am surprised. I know firsthand just how hostile you men can get when you've gone to long without... relief."

He looked at her questioningly, not entirely sure he wanted to know what she was talking about. She must have seen his face, because she began to explain.

"When your father and I were much younger, and we would get into a fight, I would usually keep certain things off of the table until he couldn't take it anymore and gave in." She smiled sheepishly, looking up at him briefly, then away again.

He suppressed a chuckle, holding his fist in front of his mouth. "I see"

She got quiet again, staring at the floor. He didn't think about asking her what she was here for again. He knew her well enough to know that she would tell him once she was able to come out with it.

"I've been thinking... about what you said the other day." She said quietly. "It's been bothering me quite a bit, actually... I do not like the idea of you being in pain... I've been trying to come up with ideas on how to help you. I thought very briefly about a prostitute, but I don't want to take the risk of you getting some disease from someone I hired." She smirked briefly at the ludicrousness of their conversation and what she just said.

"I certainly don't want you to go sleeping with some girl in your class, either." She stated sternly. "Getting some girl pregnant your senior year would ruin your entire life."

He went to make some comment, but he knew that, as overprotective as she usually was, no amount of reassurances that he would be careful would suffice. He decided his best course of action was just to stay quiet.

She inhaled and exhaled sharply, as if she had made up her mind and were announcing her decision. "Ever since you were little, I've been very protective of you. I've always tried to keep you away from danger and help keep the pain away the few times you did hurt yourself. You're older now, but you're still my son and I still want to take care of you whenever you're hurt."

She stayed quiet again for several moments, "Every idea I come up with always turns out to be a terrible idea, and always just leads back to the same conclusion... I am your mother, and as your mother I want to take care of you whenever you aren't feeling well, and to make the pain go away... So I've decided that I will make your pain go away by taking care of the problem myself."

"You'll... how?" He was confused. She said she wouldn't hire anyone, and she didn't want him to sleep with any girls in his class, so he didn't understand...

"I will do it myself. I am your mother, and I can't sit by and let you be in pain when there is something that I can do to stop it." She stated, a little too quickly, as if she were trying to force the words out as fast as possible.

"You mean... You want to... to help me... by... uh..." He was stammering, his mind running in circles.

"It won't be anything dirty. I will just use my hand." She said, her cheeks bright red.

He couldn't believe all the things going through his head. He should feel disgusted about this, shouldn't he?

He couldn't remember anymore. All of his emotions were being utterly controlled by his lust. It would probably be hard to accept that his mother had been his first sexual experience later, but for now, she held the cure to his biggest problem, and he was willing to accept that.

"Okay." He said, trying his hardest not to sound too excited.

She sat on the edge of his bed, staying quiet for a long period of time before she exhaled sharply.

"Okay... how do you want to do this...?" She asked quietly, very much aware now of the erection showing in his boxers.

"Ummm... the... uh... the chair is fine, I suppose..."

She nodded and lingered on the side of his bed for several more moments. Finally she stood up, and walked over to him. Her steps were very unsteady as she tried to keep from shaking. What she was about to do was incredibly wrong, as well as illegal, but she knew she would do anything to take care of her son, no matter how depraved it might be.

She moved to stand in front of him as he slowly started to remove his boxers, leaving him sitting there in just his shirt. His penis sprang out from beneath the waistband the moment he pulled them low enough. She slowly got down on her knees in front of him as he spread his legs. The moment she saw his penis she knew that he had been telling her the truth, his balls looked ready to burst and his penis was beginning to swell.

She had felt nervous about this ever since she had decided it was the only course of action. Now, sitting on her knee's in front of her mostly naked son, she thought very hard about changing her mind. It was too late for that, she knew. He was already in a large amount of pain, dangling relief in front of him and getting him this excited and then changing her mind would be terrible. Now that she had said something, she was committed, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it felt.

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