AUTHOR = Switch Blayde
E-MAIL = switch_blayde@hotmail.com
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AUTHOR's NOTE - © 2002 by Switch Blayde. All Rights Reserved. Copying, Duplicating, Downloading, Reposting, or use in any way, other than for the reader's personal enjoyment, is STRICTLY prohibited without the written consent of the author. EDITOR's NOTE - Due to its length, this story was broken into two parts for loading efficiency by your Browser. |
Mrs. Martha Martin walked through the all too familiar white walls of the sanitarium towards her son's room. She had been doing it every weekend for over 6 years, ever since the terrible car accident that killed her husband and left her only child, Jimmy, in a coma. Six years was a long time for a coma patient and the doctors implied he was as good as dead. She shuddered at the thought and admonished herself for thinking it. Her son would come out of it... he just had to... he was her only link to her late husband.
Martha stopped at the threshold before entering the quiet room. She sighed when she saw the lifeless, frail body lying on the bed with tubes providing him life. He had aged to young adulthood and missed his teenage years. She squeezed his limp hand as she kissed his cheek. Feeling the morning stubble against her lips, she remembered how soft his cheek had been when he was alive at 11.
"He is alive, damn you!" she scolded herself through clenched teeth.
Martha sat in the bedside chair and opened the book... the bookmark remembering where she had left off. She began reading from "The Three Musketeers". Jimmy had always liked action movies. Every once in a while Martha looked up at her son's face before returning to her reading with a sigh. But this time she lingered longer on his face. Something looked different. What was it? She continued to stare, thinking that his head had turned slightly, but finally dismissed it as improbable. She was about to return to her reading when she noticed movement under his eyelids. She held her breath and waited... hoping for a miracle. Jimmy's eyelids began to flutter and then opened. Martha's hand covered her open mouth as her vocal cords froze.
"M-Mommy, I'm thirsty."
Martha dropped the book and leaned over her son, hugging him like she had never before. "Jimmy... my god, Jimmy... you're awake. Thank god! Thank god!" she cried out as tears ran from her face.
The room soon resembled Grand Central Station with doctors and nurses running in and out, congratulating each other and speaking of miracles. Jimmy was bewildered. He thought he was still 11 years old, not realizing 6 long years had passed. After a few more hoarse requests he finally got his drink of water, but was amazed that he didn't have the strength to raise his arm. Instead, his head was lifted by a nurse who held the cup to his lips. He welcomed the refreshing liquid and eagerly drank it down.
"Mom, where am I? What happened?"
Martha waited for everyone to quiet down and then told her son about the accident and his father's death. When the tears stopped flowing from his eyes she dropped the bomb that it was 6 years later. Jimmy went white as the hospital bed sheet, his confused mind trying to comprehend everything that was said.
The next day the doctors met with Mrs. Martin and explained the physical therapy that was required. They said it would take months of hard work to build up strength in his body and get him on solid foods again. They also told her that he still had the mind of an 11 year old and would need special tutoring.
After many months, the day arrived when Jimmy came home. His room had been kept intact, sort of like a shrine, but to Jimmy it was just how he had left it a short time before. His clothes no longer fit, except for the new stuff his mother had recently bought. Jimmy sat on his bed, his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands. He didn't know what was to become of him.
"Jimmy, I have a surprise for you," his mother said, breaking his deep concentration.
Martha led her son downstairs towards the kitchen. He noticed a light flickering from the dark room and, when he made the turn to enter, a big smile broke across his face. Sitting on the table was a large cake covered with lit candles.
"Happy Birthday to you... Happy Birthday to you... Happy Birthday dear Jimmy... Happy Birthday to you," his mother joyfully sang.
"Wow, thanks Mom," the boy exuberantly shouted. "It's not my birthday... is it?"
"No, not today, but it was while you were in physical therapy so I felt like celebrating."
"B-But why are there so many candles?"
Martha's heart dropped to her stomach at the naïve question. She explained, "Well, I put 19 candles on the cake... eighteen for your birthday and one for good luck," and then she held her breath.
"But I'm not 18," the confused boy said.
Martha wrapped her arms around her son and began to weep. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy. You are 18 now, you just don't feel like it. It'll take time, but we'll do it together. Okay? You and me... we'll be a team. One for all and all for one."
"Yeah, like the Three Musketeers..." he shouted with glee, and then added, "but we'll be the Two Musketeers."
Martha hugged him tighter. He had heard her when she read to him. He heard her... he was alive... he IS alive. They were the Two Musketeers and they were a team. She would do whatever was necessary to help her son... her love. Someone who's life meant more to her than her own. She had a family again.
* * * *
Weeks had passed and Jimmy became more and more sullen. He was more often at home by himself than with kids his age. But then there weren't any kids his age. He couldn't hang out with 11 year olds because of his 18 year old body... and he couldn't be with boys and girls his own age with the mind and experience of an 11 year old. Martha watched her only child become introverted and bury himself in his self-made cocoon -- his bedroom.
"Honey, can I come in?" Martha asked as she peered around the partially open door to her son's bedroom.
"Sure Mommy... um, I mean Mom."
"It's okay to call me Mommy," Martha said when she entered the room.
"No it's not. A baby would call you Mommy, but I'm a man now."
"You'll always be my baby," she said trying to console him.
"NO!! I'M NOT A BABY!!" Jimmy shouted.
"Honey, what's the matter? I didn't mean anything by it."
"I'm sorry Mom, it's just that... that... well, it's causing me a problem."
"What? Me calling you a baby?"
"No not that."
"Then what?"
"Mom, you just don't understand."
"Then tell me. After all, we're the Two Musketeers. One for all and all for one."
Martha finally saw a small smile cross her troubled son's face and felt a little better. She didn't want to pry, but she wanted to help him.
"Mom, it's not something I can talk to you about."
"Why not? You can tell me or ask me anything."
Jimmy's eyes got real wide as he stared at his mother. She was sitting on the edge of his bed in a long robe tied tightly around her body. She was almost 39 years old, but in excellent shape. Her legs were slim but curvy, her waist tiny, and her breasts large. Her green eyes and red hair, along with the few freckles dotting her cheek bones, attested to her Irish ancestry.
"Mom, I just can't."
Martha gave her son a hurt look and said, "I thought we were a team."
"Mom, it's about sex!" Jimmy blurted out.
"Oh, I see," Martha said taken aback. She wasn't expecting that. About the time of the accident Martha and her husband talked about telling Jimmy about "the birds and the bees", but they decided to wait until he was 12. Now she was going to have to do it by herself. It would have been hard when Jimmy was reaching puberty, but he was now a young adult. Martha saw her son waiting for a response so she said, "Okay Jimmy, it's about time we had our mother/son talk about sex. I will tell you what I know and you can ask me anything. Okay?"
Jimmy was quiet for a while and then said, "It's not that. When I was in therapy they gave me books to read and stuff. I think I understand all about it, but...."
"But what, dear?"
"Everyone my age already has experience. I feel so stupid around them. I think they laugh at me... especially the girls."
Martha saw the tear form in her son's right eye and watched it run down his cheek. She didn't know what to say. How could he make up for all the missed years of teenage experimentation? Jimmy definitely couldn't "play doctor" with a 12 year old girl now that he was 18. So what was she to do?
"Jimmy, I have an answer. I'll find a prostitute to teach you how...."
"NO!!" Jimmy shouted before bursting into tears.
"What's the matter, honey?"
"I-I'm afraid. Please Mommy, don't make me do that... please. Please Mommy, please don't," the child in a man's body frantically begged.
If Martha would have taken the time to consider her next move she probably would have chosen another. But the fear in her son's face, along with his obvious anguish, determined their fate. Jimmy stopped crying and his eyes riveted on his mother's hands as they loosened the belt to her robe and pulled open the top. Her big naked breasts were now in clear view to her son.
"Mom?"
"Don't worry, dear, Mommy knows what's best for you. I won't make you go to a filthy prostitute. I will teach you myself."
Jimmy felt his cock spring to life and quickly pulled his bedcover to his waist. Martha realized what he was doing and just smiled, pleased that her "old" body could get that reaction from her son. But she didn't mention it to Jimmy and continued her instruction. She cupped her breasts and explained as much about them as she could. When she got to the nipples she talked about how they get hard when a woman is cold or aroused. She rubbed one between her fingers to demonstrate. Then she paused as she studied her son's face.
"Jimmy, you do it to the other one. C'mon, just like I did. Don't worry about doing it wrong... I'll correct you. That's why we're doing this... to teach you how."
"Mom, I can't touch you there."
"Sure you can. I love you Jimmy, and I'd do anything for you. One for all and all... well, you know what I mean." She stopped when she realized how foolish it was to quote the Three Musketeers with her tits exposed to her son. "I know I excited you when I showed you my boobs and...."
Martha stopped talking when she saw her son quickly glance towards the area of his erection under the cover and blush. She embarrassed him and was sorry for that. She kept forgetting that, although he looked grown up, he had the mind of an 11 year old. She realized she'd have to be the aggressor. Gently grabbing her son's hand, Martha pulled it towards her body. Jimmy allowed his mother to place the palm of his hand on her breast. His heart started beating faster when he felt the pliable flesh and the pointy nipple pressing against his palm. Almost involuntarily, the boy clenched his fingers around his mother's tit.
"Aahhh," Martha sighed, surprising herself that his touch would have that effect on her. "Yes, squeeze it. Oh... too hard. No, don't take your hand away. Just be more gentle, OK? Yes, that's better. That's what girls like. Your hand feels so good... the girls are going to love it."
Martha meant it as an encouragement to her son... to build up his confidence... but it really did feel good. Martha actually felt herself getting wet between her legs. She moaned with closed eyes, but sometimes forced them open to watch her son's hand on her breast.
"Mom," Jimmy said after removing his hand from his mother's tit, "I haven't done what you showed me to your nipple, but it's already hard. What happened?"
"I told you that the nipple gets hard when the girl gets aroused... like your penis does. Well, your hand felt so good on my breast that it made my nipple get hard. Why don't you play with the nipple like I showed you. Girls will want you to play with their nipples. It makes them all tingly inside."
Jimmy listened to his mother intently describe how a girl feels and did as she said. He flicked his mother's erect nipple with his forefinger and swore it got even longer. Then, capturing it between his thumb and forefinger, he began to twirl it. He looked up at his mother's face when he heard her moan. Jimmy grabbed both nipples at the same time and played with them while squeezing his mother's big tits.
"Oh yes, like that," his mother cooed. "Baby, you're so good. I have goose bumps all over my body. Lick it... lick my nipples."
Jimmy leaned towards his mother's chest and stared at the fleshy breasts with their large areolas and dark nipples. Before he could make up his mind, he felt his mother's hand on the back of his head pulling him towards her. When his lips pressed against the soft flesh, he opened his mouth and began sucking on his mother's tit. Then he remembered what his mother had told him and he flicked his tongue across her nipple. When his mother's moaning got louder and more pronounced, he kept doing it, until he got the idea to grab the hard nipple between his lips and suck it.
Martha grabbed her son's head and pulled it against her breast. She couldn't believe how good his mouth felt on her tit. Her hand went to her lap and pushed against the top of her cunt through the robe. She held Jimmy's head tight as his mouth and tongue caused her body to shiver. She was so aroused she thought she'd orgasm just from having her tits caressed, something that never previously happened. In desperation, Martha pushed her son's head away and leaned back, panting heavily.
"D-Did I hurt you, Mommy?" the concerned boy asked.
When his mother regained her breath she said, "No baby, it felt too good."
"How could it feel too good?" he asked out of innocence.
"I thought I was going to cum."
"What do you mean?"
Martha looked at her son and realized she got carried away. She was doing this to educate him so that he would fit in with others his own age. She wasn't making love to him. She shook her head to clear it and asked, "Jimmy, did you ever masturbate... either before the accident or in the hospital?"
"Do you mean play with my thing?" he asked with his eyes lowered.
"Yes dear, that's what I mean. It's a natural thing to do... everyone does it. Have you done it yet?"
"Mom, when I washed myself down there it felt good so I kept rubbing it and... you know."
"Yes I do. Did the stuff squirt out?"
"Yes," he answered so quietly Martha almost didn't hear him.
"Well, that's an orgasm. The stuff that squirted out is the sperm that makes babies. It's also called cum. Well, cum is also used to mean orgasm. So when I said I was going to cum, I meant I was going to have an orgasm."
"But how can you squirt sperm? You don't have a penis, do you?" the inexperienced boy in the man's body asked.
Martha chuckled and said, "No Jimmy, I don't have a penis. And when I orgasm I don't squirt sperm. It's different with a woman, but we use the same words. Do you understand?"
"Maybe... I don't know," he truthfully answered.
"You will," his mother promised. "That's what I will teach you. While we're on the subject of words, do you know there are many names for what we'll be talking about?"
"What do you mean?"
"You mentioned 'penis'. Do you know what else it's called?" When he stared blankly at his mother she continued, "It has other names like dick and prick and cock. Kids your age wouldn't call it a penis. Do you understand? Just like when I said I came... um, that's the past tense for cum... it was another way of saying I had an orgasm. Don't get embarrassed, but you know I have a vagina instead of a penis. Well, there are a lot of names for that too, such as pussy, cunt, twat, and so on. You know how babies are made, don't you?"
"Yeah, the man puts his penis inside the woman's vagina and squirts his sperm inside her. One sperm finds the egg and impregnates it. Then the woman gets pregnant. It was all in the books they gave me to read."
"And what's that called?"
"What's what called?"
"The act of making a baby."
"Um... um... inter something."
"That's right... intercourse. But some people think that's a dirty word so they say making love. You see, another name for the same word. But kids your age would call it fucking. But the word 'fuck' is used as a curse word too. Someone may get mad and say 'fuck you', but it's just cursing. Oh my, there is so much for you to learn. I'm afraid some of it will have to be learned on your own, but I will try to teach you as much as I can now. Okay?"
"Okay Mom, thanks."
THE END (not yet) go to Part 2
