Mom, Me and Our Adventures with Spunk: part 2

Mom, Me and Our Adventures with Spunk. 2

“What do you mean you missed?”

Mom stared at me with a puzzled frown on her face as I stood there in the bathroom like a dumbstruck lemon trying and failing to explain my first attempt at measuring my spunk.

“Uh, well,” I mumbled as I held up the empty measuring beaker for her to see, “I kind of, what I mean is, I couldn’t aim straight. With my uh, thing. When I was, you know, uh, masturbating.”

Mom blinked and looked at me with her hands on her hips like I had just stepped off the nitwit bus. “How can you miss?” she finally asked as she glanced at the white sink and toilet behind me, “And if you missed where did your,” She paused and closed her eyes for a moment as the thought crossed mind, “Stuff go?”

Go? Where the hell did she think it had gone? Cleaned up with tissue and flushed after I had recovered from squirting what felt like a quart all over the mirror, sink, and floor as I staggered around the bathroom pumping my exploding cock with one hand and trying to hold the five-inch long, three-inch wide plastic beaker in the other to catch my spunk.

Holy shit. There was no way I could squirt into something like that. It was like trying to pat the top of your head and rub your stomach at the same time. Another problem was the strength of my climaxes. Seriously, each one was so intense it felt like someone had whacked me on the head with the happy hammer. I was one step away from passing the fuck out in a dead faint. I had stood there in front of the bathroom mirror with my boxers around my ankles jerking my cock up and down with my right hand whilst holding the beaker in my left.

“Uh uh huh,” I mumbled to myself as I screwed my eyes shut and imagined I was banging that blonde beaver again as I willed my dick to get hard. What was taking it so long? Usually, when my ball ache comes on I’m at full mast and ready to go in no time. I frowned and glanced at the bathroom door. Yeah, that was the problem. Knowing that there was someone on the other side waiting for me to pop the champagne and show her the bubbles when done. Masturbating to order was harder than it looked in every sense of the word.

Rubbing the foreskin over the swollen head of my penis, I took a deep breath and really tried to concentrate. Maybe I should have raided my hidden porn stash for some visual stimulation. But it was too late now. There’s a first time for everything and here I was jerking off in the bathroom as my Mother sat downstairs.

After five or six minutes of red-faced wanking, I finally felt my orgasm ticking over and gritted my teeth as I tried to hold the plastic container still and point my throbbing dong at the open end. With a vigorous final yank of my meat, I climaxed.

And all hell broke loose.

Doing a pretty good impression of a punch-drunk Goofy, everything around me melted away as I did a little rain dance on the spot trying to keep some sense of control as I went for the bullseye. And missed in the most spectacular way imaginable.

The first stream of spunk shot out like a gooey missile and splattered the mirror above the sink. Shit! HOLD THE FUCK STILL, DUDE! But it was no use. I was bouncing around like a Teletubby on crack and the rest of my load decorated the bathroom. With a loud groan of exasperated relief, I collapsed onto the toilet seat breathing hard as my head swam in the clouds. Moments later, I opened my eyes and saw the spunk streaked damage.

This was not going to work. At all.

I was going to need help.

***

After we had got home from the Doctor’s, Mom told me to go into the kitchen and she would make us a quick bite to eat and we would have a “little” chat about our new found situation.

Sat at the kitchen table, Mom and me both kind of fell into an awkward silence as we wondered what the other was thinking. It was the kind of silence between Mom and Son where you know you’re being seen in a whole new light. Like when someone you’ve known for a long ass time suddenly becomes someone completely different even though they’re the same person. I guess Mom was coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t really her little boy anymore and was all grown up in adult school now. Mom had always been overprotective of me as I grew up and was the kind of woman who would find letting go harder than most especially after her marriage to my Dad had turned for the worst.

She sat opposite me at the kitchen table behind a ham and salad sandwich chewing away thoughtfully as I avoided her gaze and concentrated on the bowl of apples and oranges between us.

“Four or five times,” she said suddenly as she chased a streak of relish around her lips.

I shrugged and nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Now I know why you spend half your time up in your bedroom,” she continued, “I take it that’s where you do it to relieve yourself?”

My heart was leaping around like a jumping bean as I chewed slowly. Here we go. “Mostly,” I replied quietly. Don’t say anything that will piss her off. Once Mom got a bee in her bonnet there was no stopping her. Keep the details brief. On point. The less Mom knew about my jerk off sessions the better. The only thing that mattered was to get the next two weeks over ASAP so the Doc could see if there was anything wrong with me and sort out my problem.

Mom stopped chewing. “Mostly?” she asked, “Where else do you do it?”

Uh. Definitely do not mention her double bed when she was at work or away at Grandmas. “The shower, I guess. Sometimes I do it in there. When I feel the ache coming on.”

“The ache in your testicles.”

“Yeah.”

Mom dabbed her lips with a napkin. “And doing it helps ease the ache?”

I nodded again and took a bite out of my sandwich. As usual, it was delicious.

“Well then,” she said firmly as she got up from the table and went to wash her hands in the kitchen sink, “It looks like you’re just going to have to do what the Doctor ordered until all this is sorted out,” Mom reached up and ran a hand through her hair shaking her head, “This is all such an inconvenience, young man. I hope you realize this.”

“I do, Mom,” I said quickly, “I really do.”

She turned to face me, drying her hands with the white apron around her waist. “Whenever this urge or ache comes on you need to go upstairs and do what you have to do. Only this time you have to use that plastic beaker to collect your stuff. Once you’re done, bring it downstairs and I’ll fill in that sheet the Doctor gave us.”

My head jerked up and I stared at her like she had lost her mind. What?

Was she serious?

Did she actually expect me to give her the beaker full of my goo? Get the hell out of town with that! It’d be less embarrassing giving it to the Pope!

I shifted awkwardly in my chair. “Um, it’s okay, Mom,” I interrupted as I tried to cut her off at the pass, “I can take the measurement and fill in the sheet. It’s not that hard. Seriously, I can do it.”

“Nonsense,” she said brightly as she took another sip of her coffee, “Not a problem at all. Besides, I know how young men tend to exaggerate such things given half the chance,” She smiled at me behind her cup, “Now, Henry. You just concentrate on doing what you have to do and I’ll take care of the rest. When was your next appointment with Doctor Meadows again?”

It was no use. Once Mom set her mind to something that was it. I slumped in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Two weeks,” I muttered as I felt the first signs of my ball ache coming on, “The twenty-second,” Two whole fucking weeks. This was going to be pure torture as I winced at the uncomfortable tingling emanating from inside my boxers. Shit. Already? Give me a break. I glanced at Mom wondering if I should say something but to my surprise she had already put two and two together as she watched me wriggling in my chair.

“Time for your first session?” she asked as I noticed a slight flush wash across her cheeks.

No point delaying the inevitable. I looked down at my clasped hands and nodded.

Mom put her coffee down and went to the bench where I had put the white bag. She came back and put the plastic container down in front of me. She didn’t say anything as she watched me get to my feet, pick the beaker up and walk slowly past her towards the stairs like I had been sent to the gallows.

“Bathroom,” said Mom behind me, “Don’t be long.”

Long?

This was going to be the fastest wank in history.

***

“You missed.”

“I missed,” I nodded as I turned as red as a plum, “But it wasn’t my fault. It’s impossible to keep still when I cum,” Mortified, I slammed my gums shut when I realized what I had blurted out in front of my Mom. TO my Mom. I stuck everything into reverse, “Uh, what I mean is, uh, when I um ejaculate,” Alright, dude. Shut the hell up!

Mom didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, she reached forward and grabbed the plastic beaker from my hand and held it up between us.