It’s hot, too hot for me mama
But I can hardly wait
My eyes they’re burning mama
And I can feel my body shake
Do not stop, do not stop me mama
Oh make the pain, make it go away – hey
No I will not hurt you mama
But it’s getting so hard – oh
Mama (Genesis)
1st
With a crash the door slammed shut. We left the heat behind us. My mother looked after post, I took the first steps. In the stairwell, it was pleasantly cool. The movement was good for me. The memory of the hospital, the immobility of animated, where I was looked after myself and take care of itself had not faded with each step. My sneakers squeaked across the steps. Unusual, without having to hold arms balance. Before the door I said breathlessly.
Breathless. Helpless. I did not come to the keys in my pocket. Anger and despair threw bubbles like a headache tablet in a glass of water. My mother pushed me aside, and closed to let me go first again. In the apartment there was neither hot nor cold.
“Bastian picks you up from the same,” said my mother. Her words sounded like a reproach. The hallway smelled freshly cleaned. The door to my brother’s room was open. On the walls, stuck remnants of adhesive tape, a power cord sticking twisted like a crippled arm in the empty space. It seemed to miss the ceiling light. My brother, I missed the first time
“I have two weeks leave is taken for you,” she said. Your key bell rang at the key board next to the door.
In the kitchen, the window was open. It was almost as hot as outside. I was dizzy. In front of the refrigerator, the feeling of helplessness was too strong. I quietly wept salty tears on the white T-shirt with the big bump where looming in my arms under the cloth. My mother hugged me. Her warm body was strangely reassuring.
“I take care of you,” she said. She rocked me gently in her arms. For a moment I felt only the warmth of my mother and forgot the hard plaster, which restricted me like a straitjacket.
2nd
“A bicycle accident in the first week of summer vacation, and then you break your right arms. That’d piss off completely, “said Bastian. Considering that he was my best friend, he proved remarkably little sympathy. After all, he picked up the beer bottle to my lips, so I put just the head back and needed to swallow.
“Do not say something like,” I said sarcastically. Uneasily I slipped on the park bench back and forth. Slide, seesaw and climbing frame in the playground was deserted. The hot wind alone swayed the swing. A warm breeze blew my hair back from her face . There were determined 30 ° C in the shade. sweat ran down my forehead.
“I’m going away now but the next two weeks. My parents want me to come again with them to Italy. Could be the last time, “said Bastian. Fate was not really good with me. Now I felt really alone.
“Great. A record-breaking summer alone with my mother, “I said. With a Heulboje, I thought.
“The looked so cool from the dress. You could almost see her nipples. ”
“Bastian,” I said, “stop it.”
“I find your mother’s totally gay. She has great legs. And above all, great tits. Have you seen them naked? ”
“Bastian,” I repeated, louder this time. It was my mother. My mother, who kept bugging me with her wailing, which was not about the separation from my father away. She had scared away so my brother. Bastian smiled and did not think working to keep his mouth shut.
“Were you even at the nudist beach? Wow, I had a permanent stand. You’re lucky that you have such a young mother. ”
“Bastian,” I cried again resolved, but without hope.
“Why do not some photos, if they bask on the balcony. Oh, shit goes, do not. ”
Bastian dry laugh and gave me another drink. The beer tasted stale. Nude photos of my mother. My anxiety grew. And also under the left plaster it itched.
“Scratch.” I mumbled my request in a commanding tone. Better than whining. I could not whining patients suffer. I’d rather command. Bastian took the ruler and put it on top between plaster and the skin. For half a minute, he poked around there. The itching subsided.
“Honestly, I would drive you mad. Equal arms. You can not even jerk off. ”
“You say,” I growled. The chestnut sunlight glittered above us. The seed storage for a whole week waiting for discharge. A crazy moment, I hoped, Bastian would offer me, scratch me there as well.
“Ask Claudia times,” he said.
“If you ask them for me?” I asked in return and said it more seriously than it sounded. Claudia. Dreams of my sleepless nights. “I can not even make calls again.”
“That’s right. And what do you do when you have to the bathroom? ”
3rd
The toilet was seen from the door of a cold, repellent place that stretched into infinity. A dark basement, a torture chamber, a place where I could not be alone. I cautiously took a step into the room. I felt my mother behind me.
“C’mon,” she said. “This is not to be embarrassed.”
“Is it not so,” I said with the defiance of the through intuition.
I introduced myself to the toilet bowl. My arms hung like dead branches in their loops in front of my stomach. Then I turned around. My mother looked at me a little mockingly. She was wearing her long brown hair. The tight blouse stretched over large breasts. She was young when I was born. And now she was still young and my father an idiot, I thought. Quickly, she leaned forward. Attacked her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down along with his underwear. Then my mother sat up and looked back at me yet always mocking.
“You’ve been drinking beer,” she said. Had they forgotten that I was half naked in front of her?
“I’m old enough now,” I said defiantly. My mother had her eyes on me wander down to my crotch. My heart began to throb suddenly excited.
“I see,” she said. Instead of mocking flashed on something different in her eyes. She seemed to have a thought, it terrified her. Anyway, they turned on the spot and walked to the door. The excitement turned into confusion . I just wanted to sit down because I remembered one last important thing. A quick hand movement, which made every man who had a healthy right hand. A hand grip, which was every pee executed as a matter of course and here becomes an act degenerated, which required far too much closeness.
“Wait,” I called after ier. She stopped on the threshold.
“What?” She asked. She cleared her throat. My heart was racing.
“Can you tell me more, you know, push back,” I stammered, nodding his head down to my dick.
My mother came back to me quickly. Her face showed suddenly hectic spots.
“Who has done in the hospital?” She asked, before me between the legs hand, and with two nimble fingers the glans uncovered. And I looked down into the plunging neckline of her blouse. My mother was wearing a white bra. My mother was beautiful. My father was an idiot.
“The Zivi” I said. Then my mother had already disappeared from the bathroom and missed, as my cock swelled in memory of her touch to a large erection.
4th
Long into the night I was watching TV. Soon my toes dancing on the remote control at the foot of the bed, as though their primary function is to switch to other TV channels. The tape was attached to the mother, the remote control crackled and rustled with every channel change. As on all channels was only the test image, I turned off the TV and stared at the ceiling unsatisfied. The full moon peeked through the window already. I was hot. Warm breeze billowed the curtains and ran over my half naked body. I had given up on the t-shirt. Unnecessary ballast.
My father was an idiot. He had left not only his wife, he had mostly to me with her left alone. So attractive was my mother – her large breasts, wide hips, the same movements cats – so I fought against it. After two years in which the self-pity my mother had supplanted all interest in me, my hatred for them had grown to the same extent as my need for independence and freedom. Away from this woman, I thought again and again. Leave me alone. And now this now suddenly she pushed back into my life and I could not help it. Worse, I needed it, had to rely on them. Moreover, it seemed to mind. Was it a mother’s love? They could concentrate on mourning after two years once again to me. Did the fact that my brother had moved out two months ago, they brought to their senses? Or was it my cock, which she announced from other needs?
Through the open window blew warm summer air. A bright moon hung just above the houses. Echoed the thoughts in my head. My sigh broke the silence like a gunshot. I was only wearing a thin pair of underpants. My arms were in the straps on my bare chest. The clock on my VCR was at half past two. The blue moon cast shadows in my room. In my underwear all hell broke loose. My stiff cock throbbed.
For a week I was no longer able to jerk off. The itching can enjoy delicious, my cum juice and then enjoy this glorious weakness can. Lay in my bed box porn images were of naked women, were books and video. And I could not even open the box bed, turn over less than a page or insert a video. I could not do anything. My cock bulged the fabric of my underpants to a tent. Through the gaps left and right I could see the dark pubic hair that grew thicker every day a little. If I could only find a way to provide relief. First I had to get rid of the pants. I slipped on the bed and pressed it up my ass into the mattress.
After a few attempts, the waistband rolled down my buttocks to bulge. It was not until he was hanging on my stiff dick, but the substance is then slid over the hard peg. My Stiff directed to exempt. As I hoisted myself out of bed, underpants fell to the floor between my feet. Now I was completely naked. I tiptoed to the window and looked into the green area between the apartment blocks of our housing development. Clotheslines looked like small power lines. The moon was so bright that the apple trees cast sharp shadows on the dark lawn cast. I hitched up the pelvic muscles and let my stiff cock bob. The foreskin is rolled back.
I tried for a moment, only to come to orgasm by tensing my muscles, but increased by only a tasty itching and frustration. Then I pulled the pillow with your feet up to the edge of the bed, I knelt by my bed on the floor and pushed my stiff cock between the mattress and pillows, but the pressure was not large enough, the friction is too low. The more I tried, the more frustrated I became. Soon I went with the toes, the thin sheet that should rightly be my blanket, and put myself back into bed. My erect penis sticking up like a beacon. While I was still wondering what could be opening to welcome in the apartment my cock, I fell asleep.
5th
“Sven to get up,” my mother called from the kitchen. I opened my eyes. The sky was blue at the window. I had kicked the thin sheet during a hectic dream aside. A dream in which my mother in front of me toilet stood, grabbed at my cock and not letting go, while the bathroom was transformed into the consulting room of my doctor. And in the dream I knew that my English grade depended on how hard my mother joined her hand around my cock.
“I’m already awake,” I grunted and stretched my squeaky. My eyes fell on my arms in the straps on my stiff dick and on my feet. My stiff cock? Shot through a shock me. Morgenlatte! If my mother now came into the room and saw this mess. I looked at the floor in front of my bed. There lay my underpants. I swung my legs off the mattress and put his feet in his underwear. I then threw his legs in the air until the panties slid on my knees . In the hall resounded steps. In short intervals, the heels of ladies shoes clacking on the tiles.
My heart skipped a few beats. With legs straight up in the air I turned my back on the mattress and lay on his back. The pants slid down to the crotch. I made the same movements as in the night, only this time I pushed myself towards the end of the bed while I hit the bottom in the mattress. It was useless. My stiff cock blocked the material. And it was perhaps stiff. Why now? Why at this moment? Without hands I could never tuck in the pants. The steps stopped outside my bedroom door. I closed my eyes. My chest was threatening to burst. Then my mother walked into my room.
“Come on, you lazy, to say …”, I heard it. The final syllables were lost in a surprised breath.
“Excuse me,” faltered my mother. I heard they drew upon the door again. When I opened my eyes, I saw only her dark hair through the open door. “I’m in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be right,” I said with feigned sleepiness.
“I see that. But how do you do that, is beyond me, “I heard her say before the door slammed shut.
6th
I cried on the bathroom door in the kitchen: “I’m in the shower.”
“I’ll be right there,” she recalled. My erection was lurking between my legs like a snake before the attack. Carefully I placed myself in the tub. With his face to the wall I was waiting for her. Meanwhile, I counted the tiles. A moment later I heard they come into the bathroom. Hopefully she spoke to me on my morning latte. I hope not.. My father was an idiot. without a word My mother turned to the water. flowed from the cold tap it into the tub.
“Have you heard the plastic wrap over the poor?” She asked. It was previously thirteen baby blue tiles.
“How am I supposed to do that?” I asked back bitchy.
“Then crank up to,” she said. My feet squeaked into the tub. The plastic crackled. Smiled my mother. Re-played since irony in her mouth. Crinkling in his eyes. She smiled again. My father had brought her to tears . My father was an idiot.
She wore a thin shirt over a bright bra. A thin shirt with a plunging neckline. A bra, her nipples through the looming. She stuffed my arms along with the loops in a large plastic bag. With each movement, her large breasts bounced under her blouse. The gap between the breast was deep and dark. So many nights I had hated my mother because she was more concerned with their grief than with me. Now I loved my mother that she cared for me, wiping my ass and fed me. A wave of heat flowed through me. Her breasts bounced. My heart was pumping the hot wave through my body. The dream last night. Her hand on my dick. Her breasts. My mother. My cock stood up straight.
“Mom, I …”, I said breathlessly.
“I see it,” she said, raising his eyes and looked into my eyes. Unfazed, she continued to work on the film. “It’s all right.”
“This is embarrassing for me,” I said. My hard cock jutted out over the edge, almost touching my mother on the belly, no, not quite. Then she closed the plastic bag.
“Should you not be embarrassed. I’m your mother. ”
“That is why my embarrassing,” I said and turned around.
When she flips the lever on the faucet and the hot water headed to the shower head, I felt her shoulder at my butt. My erection was now complete, foreskin, small testicles and wrinkled, rocking in the pulse. I ran warm water over his head in his eyes. My mother washed my hair first. Her strong fingers on my scalp. Tingling in my body. We look at silent. My cock was hard and stood horizontally. With a sponge she rubbed my back. Shoulders. The legs. The Po. Between the buttocks. She pushed me without a word the sponge deeply touched between the legs, so that the hard nut, the sponge rubbed back and forth. What are they doing? Unable to express my surprise expression, I closed my eyes and enjoyed. And suddenly I felt fingers on my buttocks. They pulled apart and rubbed on with the scratchy sponge once, twice, three times the column and down, always on my sensitive rear opening. I groaned involuntarily.
“To turn around,” ordered my mother. I obeyed. What I would do anyway? My knees shook. My feet squeaked through the email, my knees gave way almost. I opened my eyes. My mother looked at me. Your ironic smile was gone. was instead something of concern on her face. Without words took the sponge and washed my face, ears, neck. My erection stood and stood. I did not dare to look. Warm water washed the foam away.
“Raise your arms in,” she said. A stabbing pain in my shoulders accompanied the motion. Only the few seconds that my mother lathered my chest, I endured this pain.
“Does it hurt?” She asked. I nodded. She leaned forward slightly to rub my belly, my navel, my hips. The right hand was circling with the sponge. With his left hand at my waist, she kept me the pressure behind evasive. I looked down at her black hair. My stand was perfect. could my mother do not see it. suddenly changed my mother’s position, sat on the edge of the bathtub. My Stiff trembled excitedly in front of their eyes . Then I felt the sponge on my hard cock. lathered it lengthwise a comment. The sponge scraped over my sensitive glans. scraped along the shaft. Bottom, top, on the side.
“Did you actually have a girlfriend?” She asked casually. It was the first time that they me since the separation of my parents asked. The first time in nearly two years. They knew little of my current self.
“No,” I said quietly. The sponge was so pleasant. When they went on so I came. Again and again, the rough surface rubbing on my erection. Long ago I was as clean as an operating room, decorated in the bone, healed fractures, but No needs were met.
“And a friend?”
“I’m not gay,” I said quickly. Only a few seconds of thought. Longer I do not. My mother’s hand on my waist was soft and warm, her grip was firm.
“Do I hurt you?” She asked suddenly, looking up at me. Her eyes were as insecure as I had never experienced before.
“No,” I said softly. “Quite the contrary.”
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