She hugged me, kissed my cheek, and led me out.
***
At five in the morning, I woke up from a deep sleep and freakish dreams. I was in absolute anguish and lathered in sweat. My dick had rebelled; it grew hard in the night.
It wasn’t the erection that hurt worst; it was the tape, strangling the knob with ripping force.
I hissed swears as I yanked my boxers down. The shaft was perfectly rigid and straight, but the tape was tugging and bending the tip into hideous deformity. As quickly as I could, I peeled the two strips of adhesive loose, and then I collapsed onto my pillow, gasping and swearing.
Still hard a few minutes later, I rewrapped the tape around the tip. It no longer mattered if the bandage fell off went I went limp. The only thing that concerned me was not having to endure that crippling pain from the tape again. I took two more painkillers and eventually fell back asleep.
I didn’t wake up on my own the next morning. Mom came into my room and shook me awake. Rubbing my eyes, I checked the clock. I was only a few minutes later than usual.
“You must have been very tired,” Mom remarked, rubbing my hip.
“Yeah.”
“Sleep is the great healer,” she intoned. “Let’s get you up and have a look at your penis.”
I threw off the covers while Mom arranged herself on her knees. Forgetting what had happened during the night, I stretched while Mom pulled down my boxers and gasped.
I looked down. The bandage hung limply off the end of my dick, held there only by the tiniest bit of tape.
Mom looked up at me, worried. “Did–did you get hard in the night?”
I nodded, remembering.
“Did it hurt much?”
“Yeah.”
She moaned plaintively. Then, she kissed my dick, saying, “My poor baby, no.” Three-four-five kisses, she planted, and with each one, she murmured that little “mmm-wu” kissing sound. Finishing, she lifted the shaft and perused the knob. “At least it doesn’t look as red or swollen as before.”
“Yeah?”
Her thumb stroked the side. Right there, before her eyes, I felt my cock begin to grow.
Mom let it down without acknowledging the unmistakable change, and she rose. She didn’t mention it. She caressed my cheek and told me she had an idea, and then she left.
When she came back a few minutes later, she had two bandages prepared. One was in a plastic bag; the other ready to be applied. “This one,” she said, lifting the bag, “is in case you grow hard again.”
I nodded, feeling a touch of shame.
“Just excuse yourself to the bathroom with it, remove the old one, pull off the plastic, and put it on.”
“Okay.”
“I tried to make it–make it big enough, you understand?” She handed it to me.
Taking the bag, I nodded, turning even more pink.
“Good,” she said, growing a touch flushed, herself. “Let me just put on this other one now.”
She did, and when she finished, she kissed the very end of my cock. Per usual, it was a short, gentle peck, but I couldn’t help but think that she’d fattened her lips a bit–puckered a tad more than usual.
She rose, petted my hair, kissed my cheek, and left, saying, “Don’t forget to keep it dry in your shower.”
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