“Alright,” she murmured. “I’ll–I’ll just have a quick look then and leave you to your privacy.” She sat beside me, caressing my bare chest before giving my cock her attention.
I saw her throat undulate. There, on the tip of my cock, perched a fat, shining bead of precum.
“I see you had no difficulty removing the bandage by yourself,” she said.
I shook my head and waited.
She reached out. Her fingers clasped it and drew it straight up. The precum quivered. My cock throbbed, feeding more of the clear fluid to the already fattened bead.
Mon bent down toward my tummy. The end of her ponytail alighted on my skin. She surveyed the knob. “It–it looks to be healing perfectly.” Rising, she turned to me and asked, “Does it hurt when you–?”
I shook my head.
“I’m glad,” she said, and her fingers relaxed and re-gripped me. My cock throbbed again.
The dollop of pre-cum tumbled down the tip. Mom sucked in a shallow breath. Together, we watched the bead slide over the ridge and down the shaft. Banking around thick veins, it glided until it found the side of Mom’s thumb and perched there, trembling.
Mom stared at her thumb without moving or reacting. Then, making the tiniest hum, Mom switched hands on my cock. She drew the freshly adorned digit to the level of her breasts. She opened and closed her mouth. She looked between me and that glistening drop.
“Precum,” she murmured. “That’s–that’s a good sign–for your health, I mean.”
I didn’t say a word.
Mom swallowed. “Did you know that it tastes mildly sweet?”
I shook my head from side to side. With a gun to my eye, I couldn’t have spoken.
“Maybe,” Mom continued, “it can tell me if everything’s working properly.” She didn’t wait for me to reply, she brought her thumb to her mouth and closed her lips over the droplet.
My mouth fell open because Mom’s left hand slowly, tenderly began stroking my cock. I don’t even think she knew she was doing it. Still savoring the precum in her mouth, she blinked. A shy grin appeared, and she told me it tasted very good.
It was then she glanced at her left hand. She immediately stopped and drew her hand away. “Pardon me, ba–!” She closed her mouth. A fresh bead of precum welled from the slit. “Oh,” she whispered with her eyes fixed upon it.
She swallowed again. Never looking at me, she gripped my cock in her right hand and stroked it once–slowly, firmly, like a loving massage. Up and down. Her eyes leered at that shiny glob. Then, Mom expressed the shaft, urging more precum through the tip. Leaning close, she closed her lips over the slit and nursed the fluid directly from the source.
I gasped.
Mom swallowed and drew free. The wet smack that ended her taste was immediately followed by a low, faint sigh. She rose. Her face was pink and flushed. Turning to me, she stammered, “Daddy–. Your dad, he told me he didn’t–. He didn’t mind it if I–.” She didn’t finish.
I found my voice. “I understand, Mom.”
She swallowed and nodded.
“And,” I said, “you want to, don’t you?”
“Yes!” she burst. “I do.”
“I really need it, Mom.”
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