“Oh, thank God it’s you, Conrad, I almost-” she breathed as she started to relax and let herself down from the counter. As she did so, however, we both felt something surprising: the panty-clad lips of her pussy mashed hard down on the shaft of my erection (which I wasn’t even aware I had at the time and I certainly wasn’t aware that it had become tumescent enough to poke through my boxers!). “Oh my!” she gasped.
We both looked down in shock. She was back on her own two feet, but protruding from her groin was about three inches of my swollen member, poking between the gap of her thighs as though she’d sprouted a short but very thick penis. Even as realization struck, I felt myself throb with longing as I also noted the sudden warmth that surrounded the top side of my shaft. With a start, still holding the grease jar in my hands, I all but jumped backwards and gave a yelp of embarrassment.
“I am SO sorry, Mom!” I squeaked out as I put the jar on the table behind me swiftly. As soon as I was relieved of the burden, I started to cover my groin with my hands.
Mother turned around to look at me and her eyes immediately went to where the movement was: my crotch. My hands were big, but hardly big enough to completely hide my throbbing member from her view. The top portion of it peeked out from between my wrists and she simply stared for a thoughtful second while I waited balefully for a response.
Then she shrugged. “No harm done. Thank you for catching that jar.”
Frozen where I was, I just looked at her in shock. “No, I mean, I’m sorry about-”
“I know what you were referring to, son, but you hardly need to apologize. From what I briefly saw, you should be proud. I knew you’d be big like our father, but I didn’t expect it to be THAT big. Incidentally, what were you doing with an erection, anyway? You’ve never come in here with one before.” Now she leaned back against the counter just the tiniest bit, a position which had the unfortunate effect of thrusting out her ample bosom. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure she did that on purpose.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll… I’ll go take care of it.”
Mother cocked a delicate eyebrow at me. “You sure you don’t want me to do that for you?”
I let loose with another squeak and bolted back up to my room. As I fled, I heard her shout after me that breakfast would be ready in five minutes. I’d “taken care of” my erection in less than three.
I came back down, wearing jeans and a t-shirt this time, with a hang-dog expression on my face. I said nothing as I sat at the table and Mother began to fill my plate with food. It smelled delicious and I wanted to say as much, but I was afraid that my voice would crack or that I would say something inappropriate instead.
Mother smiled sweetly at me, fixed her own plate and we began to eat in silence. About halfway through our meals, however, Mother finally piped up. “It’s not that big a deal, son,” she said casually. “I mean, it’s big, but… it’s okay. Dad used to wake up with what he called ‘morning wood’ all the time. It’s perfectly natural for a boy, a MAN your age.”
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