Bedtime with mom watching

When I was a teenager, I was, like every other boy, a
wanking fiend. One of my favorite opportunities was at bedtime. I’d usually rub
a quick one out, then rest a bit, then go for a second load, making it last somewhat
longer.

The problem was that my mom would come in for a chat after she was
ready for bed, and she’d sit on the side of my bed and we’d talk about normal
stuff, like what had happened today and what the plan was for tomorrow.
Usually, I’d be finished with my second load by the time she came in, and I’d
had time to clean up, hide my tissues under the sheets and pull the covers up
over me. If I wasn’t done when I heard her come out of the bathroom, I’d just
stop what I was doing, talk with her, then finish up after she left.

Like a normal kid, I figured that I was being really clever
and she had no idea what I’d been doing. Yeah, right.

You can imagine what inevitably happened. I was working on
my second load, and by the time I heard her flush the toilet, I was almost
ready to cum. My little head thought I had time to finish, and I was almost at
the point of no return, so I couldn’t stop. I had just shot the last squirt of
my load when she walked in. I’d had no time to clean up or even cover myself.
There I was, with a wet dick, a wet hand, and a load of cum on my stomach.

It all happened so fast, I don’t know what I did. I probably
froze in terror. But she was calm. She just picked up the box of tissues and
handed them to me. She said “Let’s clean you up,” or something like that. And
she took tissues out of the box, cleaned my stomach and my belly button. Then
she handed me a tissue, pointed to my wet dick, and told me that I needed to
clean that part myself. I did.

I should point out that we were hardly a nudist household.

Under normal circumstances, I would have died of embarrassment if she’d seen me
naked, but I had already died of embarrassment for other reasons, so there was
nothing else I could do.

I really wanted her to leave, but she didn’t. She sat down
on the side of my bed, like she always did, and told me all the expected stuff--
It was completely normal. All boys did it. It was nothing to be embarrassed about.
It was no secret what I’d been doing in bed at bedtime. Just like any good mom
would do. Then she added the killer. “You don’t have to stop when I come in. If
you’re busy, I’ll just come back later.”

The more I thought about it over the next few days, the
better than sounded. What horny boy, deep in his heart of hearts, doesn’t want
to be watched, especially by his mom? So that night, I timed it, edging,
keeping myself on the brink of orgasm, waiting for her. Then, when the toilet
flushed and I knew she’d be coming into my room, I just kept wanking. There I
was, completely uncovered, hard dick in my hand, with tissues from my first
load unabashedly sitting on my nightstand.

When she saw what was going on, she was a bit startled, but
kept her composure. She asked if I wanted her to come back later. I had
rehearsed my answer. I told her that I was almost done and she should stay. It took
only a few more strokes and I shot my load, with my mom watching the whole
thing. You know what she did? Just like the first time, she sat on the edge of
my bed and picked up the box of tissues and helped me clean up. Just as if it
were a completely normal thing to do.

Needless to say, I arranged for this to happen nearly every
night after that.