Without another word, my right hand reached forward. I didn’t grasp at him so quickly that he’d jump out of reflex. But I didn’t give him any time to think either. One second, we were just looking at each other, talking softly. The next, I had slipped my hand through the wide leg hole of his basketball shorts, felt the soft skin of his inner thigh against the back of my hand. And then I felt my fingers rub against the base of Anthony Jr.’s penis, my thumb sinking into his scrotum, feeling his balls. My palm wrapped around my son’s cock. It was half-hard, I think. But felt warm and heavy against my hand. My fingers undulated gently, testing the denseness of his flesh.
“Mom?” Anthony Jr. said sharply, “What’re you doing?”
“Being the man of the house has a lot of responsibilities,” I said, my eyes flickering up and looking at his, “And you have thought a lot about those. But it comes with privileges too. I am going to show you what the man of the house gets. This time for free. Next time you earn it.”
“Mom…” Anthony said.
“Do you want to be the man of the house right now, Anthony Jr.?” I asked. For a moment, he froze. He looked down at the lump in his pants where my hand was wrapped around his penis. He looked back up at me. Nodded.
My left hand reached up and found the other leg of Anthony Jr.’s basketball shorts. I started to tug on them. I felt them roll on Anthony Jr.’s hips. I looked up at him. His mouth and eyes were wide. He wasn’t breathing. But he pushed himself up, just slightly, using the arms of the chair. I yanked again. The shorts and underwear slipped off his body. My right hand was still grasped around my son’s cock and the his clothes rolled up my arm. I switched hands quickly, moving my left hand around the base of Anthony Jr.’s penis. I released him with my right hand, allowing me to toss his shorts onto the floor. Now my son wasn’t wearing anything but a Captain America t-shirt. And his dick was in my hands. I looked down at it.
It had been years since I had seen my son’s penis. Not since I had bathed him. I was a bit surprised. I don’t know, given my son’s small size and childish nature, I had sort of expected him to be especially small. And he wasn’t. He wasn’t huge or anything by any stretch of the imagination. He was average, though that looked sort of big on his small frame. He had an attractive package, smooth skin, proportional. I like that he had those tight balls, not the ones that hung halfway down to his knees. It was only marred by the wild patch of totally unkempt hair. Still, that made his smell heavy, which I liked.
“Did I do this to you?” I playfully. I moved my right hand back to his cock and tilted it left and right. It was incredibly hard now, like warm, smooth stone in my hands. Anthony Jr. looked at his cock, wide-eyed, and nodded. I felt a little thrill run through me. I came to the realization that what Dylan had said earlier had pushed me here just as much as what Joanne had said. It had been, god, five years since I had sex. Ten since I had it regularly. I came here to turn my son into a man. But I wanted to feel like a woman too.
“Tell me about it,” I said, and I slowly stroked my hand up my son’s shaft, letting my fingers tickle along it.
“What?” Anthony Jr. asked, dazed.
“Tell me about how I made your dick hard,” I said. I moved my palm up to the tip of my son’s penis. I sort of swirled my palm around it gently, felt Anthony Jr.’s precum wet my skin.
“I…” Anthony Jr. started. Then he grew quiet, watching my hand swirl while his face grew redder. I moved my hand down his shaft, finding my son’s balls and squeezing them slightly. It was strange, I’d never been this… forward with any man before. But I knew in a way that I’d never known with another man that Anthony Jr. was putty in my hands. I could afford to be bold, I knew I had authority.
“Son, I have your balls in my hand. You aren’t going to say anything that embarrass me,” I said, squeezing him gently, feeling the strange, delicate texture of his testicles in my palm.
“Fuck mom, you are so fucking hot! All my friends have always said so. Your like… tits and…” Anthony Jr. couldn’t keep his thoughts straight. I smiled indulgently and started to stroke my hand up an down his cock again. It felt good hear him say it. I felt my nipples ache and wondered if there was wetness between my thighs.
“Do you think of me when you masturbate?” I asked, squeezing harder around his shaft, “just be honest.”
“Yes mommy,” Anthony Jr. said, and for the first time in a decade, that little nickname didn’t bother me. It was… kind of hot. I reached forward and grabbed one of Anthony Jr.’s hands. I pulled it forward and put it around his cock. He grasped himself. I held his wrist, pulling it up and down and making him stroke himself. I thought about him doing that, alone in in his room, thinking of me. I bit my lip.
“Boys think of hot chicks and jack off,” I said and Anthony Jr. nodded, “A man of the house doesn’t need fantasies. He gets what he wants.” I said. And then, again without thinking, I found myself rising up high on my knees, holding Anthony Jr.’s wrist still. With my other hand, I reached up and slipped some loose hair behind my ear. I craned my neck and leaned down.
Anthony Jr.’s smell was thick, almost unpleasant, as my head moved rapidly into his lap. I kept my eyes open, watching the wet tip of his penis approaching me. My mouth opened very wide and I kept moving quickly, fluidly. I felt it first, the smooth warmth of my son’s glans against my tongue. My mouth closed around the tip of Anthony Jr.’s cock as my tongue started to swirl around the opening of his urethra. He tasted salty and his scent filled my nose. My lips were wet and I slid down easily over Anthony Jr.’s shaft.
“Oh god, mom! I can’t believe you’re sucking my dick!” Anthony Junior said. I couldn’t believe it either. Once again, I acted first and absorbed the action later. No decisions were made. Anthony Jr.’s hand slipped off of his shaft and after a moment, I felt both of his hands on my head, sinking into my hair. He didn’t press on my head, just, held me.
Slowly, I took Anthony Jr.’s cock into my mouth. I felt the rigid warmth of him pressing against my tongue and I swirled around him as best I could. I soon felt my son’s penis pressing into the back of my throat. I gagged slightly, controlled myself, and slipped him deeper. Soon, I felt my chin settling against Anthony Jr.’s scrotum and my nose pressed into his dense thatch of pubic hair. I breathed him in, liking the heavy smell of him the more I sensed it. I moved my head side to side a couple of times, letting Anthony’s cock move in my throat.
“Mom, is this really happening?” he asked. I smiled around my son’s penis and nodded. Slowly, I started to pull my head back. I kept my lips wrapped tightly around my son’s penis, squeezing his urethra as I moved. I looked up at my son as I did so. Saw his eyes staring at me, his body frozen. Eventually, just the very tip of Anthony Jr.’s penis remained in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around it once, groaning at the flavor, and then I shoved the tip into my cheek.