Interview.

I was perusing the internet one day doing some research for a phycology paper when my search brought me to Reddit. My topic was on adolescent emotional development, nothing too crazy, but as Reddit users know, once you open the door you quickly fall down the rabbit hole. Clicking here and there I was moving further away from my intended search and I saw a post that caught my eye.. “Doing research on Incest.” I couldn’t help myself so I clicked on it.. It went on to say that while there is an abundance of research on incestuous sexual abuse, this psychologist was looking for people who had been involved in positive sexual relationships with close family members, without any negative impact on either member’s lives. It listed his information and stated that volunteers would remain anonymous… I dialed his number.

“Hi is this Dr Smith?” I asked, “my name is Chris and I was in a sexual relationship with my mom”.

A month later he flew to New York to meet us. He would’ve come sooner but it took me weeks to convince my mother to do the interview. His requirements were that we had to meet in person, it had to be both of us, and we had to provide identification proving we were, in fact, mother and son. It had been almost 4 years since she and I had done anything… pretty much once I moved out it stopped. But naturally it wasn’t easy to get her to meet a stranger in person and tell him about how she used to fuck her own son. To be honest I’m not sure why I was so willing to do it, I’ve never told anyone else before, and she and I never talk about it.. But maybe that was it, I just wanted to get this big secret off of my chest.

Dr. Smith told me how he’s been having trouble finding volunteers to talk to him about their experiences. His biggest road block was his requirements, people had called him, but none wanted to meet or were willing to provide proof of relationship to their sexual partners. But I totally understood why it was necessary, any pervert could make up a story over the phone, or even tell it in person. They might even go as far as to have someone claim to be a relative.. All this would undermine the study, so up until this point we were only the second ones he’d met. The first were a bother and sister who had been sleeping together since they were teens and were now living as a couple in another state where no one knew them. But now there was us, and after showing birth certificates, IDs and even old family photos, we began to tell him our story.

“The first thing you have to know” I started, “is that it was a very gradual development…”

One year, just a week after summer break had started I broke both my wrists, arms, shoulders and collar bones in a skateboarding accident. It was horrendous! My entire upper torso was encased in a cast, with my arms permanently affixed out in front of me. I was hospitalized for a week and when I left I was told it would be a minimum of 8 more weeks until it was all removed. Back home my parents were very supportive and did all they could, but I was miserable. My dad worked but my mom stayed home, waited on me, rented me movies… but she also had to bathe me, wipe my ass, feed me and get me dressed, as well as help me get up and down, scratch my nose and hold drinks. It was annoying, frustrating and humiliating. My summer was effectively ruined, I couldn’t do anything with my friends, which made me not even want to leave the house, but at home I couldn’t even play video games or sleep comfortably… and it got worse! If you think it’s embarrassing to have your mom get you dressed and undressed or bathe you.. Try doing it with an unintentional boner! After just a couple days home it started.. She’d come in to help me get out of bed and I’d be lying there with a tent in my shorts. She was sweet and acted like she didn’t even see it, which obviously she did because she’d have to take my shorts down to help me take a piss in the morning, and as any guy can attest, peeing with an erection requires a little more force when aiming, that meant my mother had to grip my morning wood to point it into the bowl! She showered me with a handheld shower wand a few times a week and of course she needed to use soap.. well which areas got the smelliest on a teenage boy?? That’s right! And while she would be putting soap on me and rising me off I’d be sporting wood! The worst was when I’d get hard while she was washing me, giving the impression that I was turned on by her! Once again she acted like she didn’t notice but it didn’t help. All of this, made me not only annoyed but angry, and I couldn’t hide it! I snapped, yelled, even cursed at them for the smallest things.

“Hey Chris, what do you want to watch on TV?”

“I don’t give a shit what we watch!” was a common response for most questions I received.

This sort of behavior wasn’t allowed mind you, but what could they really do to punish me? I was essentially grounded already! They seemed to understand this, and realized that my lashing out was due to something else.. Even before I did.

One morning, after being home for a little over 2 weeks, my mom came in to get me out of bed. I was lying helplessly on my back, irritated in part because I was being woken up, and partly because I had another uncomfortable night’s sleep, but also because my mom was once again coming in to see her son rocking a hard on, and I couldn’t do anything about it. So naturally I was my usual cheerful self. I didn’t even look at her as she said good morning, I just stared out the window.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk.” She started, sitting beside me on the bed. “I know you’re unhappy and uncomfortable with.. Everything. So last night I was talking to your father and we decided that I should help.”

“Help? With what?!” I snapped at her, still looking out the window.

“Well.. With this.” She said, gently placing a hand on the upright bulge in my shorts.

“What!?” my eyes wide as I quickly turned to look at her. “What are you talking about?!”

“Sweetie..” She said, looking a little embarrassed herself.. “I’m not an idiot.. I grew up with brothers.. I know all about the.. long showers boys take” she said trying to save us both the embarrassment of saying it, “and obviously your father was a young man once himself.. We know what boys your age are doing” she looked up at my arms, stretched up in the air “and we understand that you can’t do it yourself right now, and it’s making you uncomfortable and irritable.”

I couldn’t believe what my mom was saying.. But what I couldn’t believe more was that I hadn’t realized it myself. I’ll admit I was a little late to the masturbation game, having only started doing it this past year, in fact it was over winter break, so only like 6 months ago. But like every guy once he discovered this new superpower, I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. It was a minimum 2-3 times a day.. Morning, after school, bedtime. But while I’d been so preoccupied with the other facets of my incapacitation I hadn’t really though of my lack of self gratification as a cause of my unhappiness and discomfort. I had still been getting erections multiple times a day but hadn’t really thought about masturbation since I knew it wasn’t an option. Mostly I’d been looking at these as annoyances and not considered the problem and thus the solution… that in addition to everything else, I was horny and needed to nut! It amazed me that my parents had come to this conclusion before I did, but what’s more perplexing is how or why they decided that having my mom jerk me off was the right course of action!?

We were in my apartment. I looked at my mom sitting in the arm chair next to me. In all these years I’d never asked why. I mean, she said that they felt I was cranky because I couldn’t masturbate, but why had they made the extreme choice to have my mom do it for me? Why had my dad been on board? I stared at her, Dr Smith did too, looking for the same answers. My mom looked back at us with a deer in the headlights expression.

“Fine” she sighed, “your father thought of it, he made a joke to me about how much being in the casts must suck for a guy, so for a couple days I watched you and thought about it.. I told him about your erections, which of course I knew were natural and normal, so I hadn’t told him before, but then he got me thinking. He laughed and said that I should just do it for you. I asked if he was serious and he said that if I thought it was a good idea then I should try it, but he never asked about it again. Even though it became obvious when I was going into your room at bedtime every night, he still never said anything.”

“But why did you decide to try it?” Dr Smith spoke.

“This sounds crazy, but honestly it was a maternal choice, it was something that my son needed that I could do for him. Yes it was unorthodox and improper, but my intentions were.. Motherly.” Smith wrote while she spoke.

“And how did you respond to this proposal?” He asked, looking at me.

“Well, her hand was still on my pecker.. ”.

I was still staring at her, wide eyed from shock and confusion. I suddenly became aware that her hand was still there as she looked at me waiting for some sort of answer. I could tell by her face that this wasn’t easy for her, she was uncomfortable too. This had to be awkward and she obviously knew that I was old enough to understand that this was a fairly inappropriate offer. If I’d had any sense of decency I should have politely declined and let her off the hook. But I was a teenager and a virgin and there was a woman, albeit my mother, with her hand on my crotch offering to give me my first hand job..

“OK”. I said, almost scared that it was a trick and I was about to get in trouble for choosing the wrong answer. My response seemed to startle her, maybe she expected me to say ‘no’, but even if she was bluffing and didn’t want to do it, she accepted my choice and with a small gulp she turned to look at the thing she’d been holding.

“alright then.” She said, and shifted her position on my bed. I kept watching her, afraid to make a noise. She turned, one leg underneath her, one hanging off the bed. She carefully opened the flaps on my pajama shorts as if she expected a spider to jump out or something, and saw the front of my boxers nearly bursting open. With the same tentativeness, she pulled the flaps apart and let my eager manhood push through. She made a little unexpected gasp and released the sides of my boxers, letting the opening slide down the length of my shaft, fully revealing myself to my mother. My eyes darted from her hands to her face, she was definitely nervous, not sure how to proceed. Of course she knew what to do, but it was as if she felt she was supposed to do it differently because it was her son. I on the other hand was DYING, I felt like my prick was actually growing harder as it pointed at her, waiting for what was to come next. It felt wrong, how badly I wanted this. I’d never looked at my mom in that way before, but at that moment in my head I was screaming ‘for God sake mom, give me a hand job!!’. She finally worked up the courage to touch it, gently wrapping her cold fingers around the base, then immediately pulling her hand back! “Oh, uh, wait, I’ll be right back”. She stood up and left the room, returning a minute later with a bottle of personal Lubricant.. I know everything else was freaky enough, but this was were I really got weirded out. She squeezed some into her hand, lube.. The same lube that she and my dad must use in bed, the same stuff that my dad might even use when he jerks off! It was almost too weird for me and I nearly threw in the towel, but then she took ahold of me and gave the first stroke…. Any feelings of doubt went right out the window! I let out a loud sigh, and she stopped.

“are you ok?!?” she asked.

“I’m fine!” I yelled, my voice cracking a bit.