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Joseph and His Mother

By: Charles Petersunn



This is a story within the incest section. Therefore, if you don't like stories concerning incestuous relationships you really, really, really should not waste your time reading this one. It's also a sequel to "Dr. Lowenstein and her nephew." It will help considerably to have read that story first as the premise and foundation for the current study are provided by the earlier one. The story also includes a bit of reluctance, humiliation, and spanking. All of the characters in this story are at least nineteen years old.

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Dr. Lowenstein was very pleased with the initial family therapy session with Joseph and his mother, Deborah (who is also her sister; see "Dr. Lowenstein and her nephew"). It had indeed been an excellent psychodrama that would contribute much to helping Joseph overcome his infantilization complex and develop more comfort as an assertive, self-confident male.

Joseph's mother though had been and continued to be understandably ambivalent about the therapeutic approach. She confessed, at least to herself, that she had enjoyed having sex once again after at least nineteen years (Joseph's age). It had indeed been a very, very long time. But, still, she remained rather troubled about the fact that the sex had been with her son. Her sleep that night had been as restless as the sex had been pleasurable. She had gotten swept away by the natural reactions of her body, and once the primitive impulses and desires had been quenched, her more rational mind and moral character were able to assert themselves and dominate her thinking once again, and so she was quite troubled over what had happened.

Dr. Lowenstein allowed her sister and nephew to take a day off from therapy, not wanting to move too quickly. It is important in psychotherapy to proceed at a pace with which the patient is most comfortable, and certainly this form of familial psychodrama can be quite stressful and taxing on some family members. She also met individually with Joseph and Deborah to process the events of the previous evening, to assess in some depth whether the benefits of this approach were outweighing any potential complications. In her session with Deborah she reassured her sister of the rightness and propriety of this therapeutic approach.

Deborah admitted that she did see an immediate improvement in Joseph. That very evening and throughout the next day he appeared to stride with a new sense of self-confidence, perhaps even pride, yet remaining as well dutifully respectful. She was duly impressed at how effective the therapeutic session had been.

Dr. Lowenstein though did want to conduct further sessions. She would not be visiting her sister and nephew for much longer, having scheduled only one full week for this therapeutic visit. It was important to conduct additional sessions before she departed so that the improvement and progress Joseph had made to date would not be lost. Recidivism was always a problem with sexual disorders, and the more treatment that could be applied within the week of her visit the better were the chances for an ultimate full recovery.

She explained to her sister and Joseph the afternoon of the following day, "Once I leave, the sessions with Joseph should end. In the absence of the supervision of a professional psychologist it would no longer constitute a therapeutic exercise, and I must sternly warn you against continuing such psychodrama on your own. It is a very potent, potentially volatile form of treatment that can result in dire consequences if not carefully titrated and adequately monitored."

Deborah would not disagree with that, and she was very relieved to hear that it would end upon her sister Susan's departure. She could not imagine the distress she would feel if Joseph continued to expect her to have sex with him.

Dr. Lowenstein further explained, "Plus, Joseph must learn to generalize his behavior to women outside of the family. When I leave it will be time for you, Joseph, to leave the nest and find your own mate, someone closer to your own age, who might in fact be the future mother of your own children."

Joseph nodded. Like any other normal boy it would be difficult to give up having sex with his mother but all good things must come to an end.

"However, in the meantime, Joseph and Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein instructed, "I do have a few additional familial psychodrama exercises I want the two of you to perform."

Deborah took a deep sigh of resignation, and apprehension. The other day's psychodrama had been at times so difficult. She wondered what else would be expected of her. She glanced to her left, noticing that this time the bay window drapes were left open. At least this time there was apparently no need for privacy, so perhaps the worst of it was in fact over.

"Deborah," the doctor asked, turning to her sister, "Did you often dress Joseph when he was a boy?"

"Well, yes, yes, of course," she replied, feeling that she really shouldn't feel at all defensive about that. All mothers dress their young boys.

"Yes, certainly, that's only natural, and did you continue to monitor your son's manner of dress later in his childhood?"

Deborah gave it some thought and said cautiously, "Well, yes, I s'pose I did." All mothers do that as well.

"For how long?"

Deborah didn't reply.

Joseph answered for her. "Heck, she sometimes governs what I'm wearing even to this day, as if I can't make that decision for myself."

"Yes, yes, I'm not surprised. It's all part of the infantilization complex. To help combat this component, the next exercise will reverse these roles. Joseph, I want you to take your mother to her bedroom and pick out for her what you would like her to wear today."

"What?" They both replied simultaneously.

Dr. Lowenstein smiled. The surprised reactions of her patients never ceased to amaze her. They really should have modern psychology be required reading in high schools so that everyone can become more familiar with its tenets and techniques. "I'm sure it sounds a bit unusual, but this is why it is so effective. Now, why don't you both try to make the best of it. Have it be fun rather than therapy! And," she added, speaking directly to Joseph, her voice more serious in tone, "Don't hold back, Joseph. The decisions you make may be the most important ones of your life." That was overstating it, but she did want Joseph not to be timid. The more assertive he was, the greater benefit he would derive.

Joseph nodded. The most important decision in your life? That was quite a responsibility. He seriously doubted that picking out an outfit for his mother would be that momentous of a decision, but therapists are very insightful persons when it came to the potential importance of various life decisions. He would make sure that he did not hold back.

"Well, alright, Joseph," his mother intoned, with obvious reluctance in her voice, "shall we proceed to my bedroom?" She turned and headed off, feeling that this whole thing was a bit silly, and rather awkward. Just the thought of Joseph, her son, accompanying her to her bedroom felt out of place. But, of course, that was the whole point of a therapeutic role reversal.

As Joseph began to follow her Dr. Lowenstein stepped up and reached out to stop him. "Joseph," she said quietly but looking very intently and deep into his eyes, "she is already reasserting her authority. You need to make it real, real clear that you are the man and she is to serve you." She squeezed his arm as she asked, "Do you understand?"

"Um, yes, yes ma'am, I think I do."

"I hope so," she replied, and let go of her nephew's arm.

Joseph hurried down the hall to catch up to his mother, who apparently wasn't going to wait for him, all the while wondering what precisely he should have his mother wear, his eyes naturally focusing on the swaying of her bottom beneath the loose, long summer dress she had put on that morning. It was quite pretty and flattering, but he knew he had to suggest; no, he had to require, something different, something much more appealing, to him.

When they arrived in her bedroom his mother opened the door to the closet containing her dresses.

It was also rather awkward, if not downright weird, for Joseph. What a strange situation to be in. But, this was again precisely the purpose of the psychodrama, to have persons change their social roles and mind sets that color and bias their perceptions, of oneself as well as others.

It was much more difficult for his mother, who stepped back and watched her son search through her closet for the right dress for her to wear. It got even more awkward when he made his choice.

"Perfect!" He exclaimed with glee and pulled from his mother's closet a very short, bright orange mini-skirt. "Try this on," he suggested, but in a tone that bespoke more of a command than a request.

"Joseph, geez Louise,I can't wear that! It's much too short. I can't wear something like that."

Joseph was momentarily taken aback by his mother's defiance. He wished that his aunt had come with him, as she would probably back him up. But, he also realized that the doctor wanted him to learn to stand on his own, and there was no way he could back down. The doctor would be very disappointed if he did that. "Well, if you can't wear it then why do you have it hanging in your closet?"

There was in fact a very good explanation for that. "It's not actually mine, Joseph. It belonged to your sister, Emily. I took it away from her so that she would not embarrass herself by wearing such a garment. It barely covered her bottom."

It was a very compelling rejoinder, but Joseph knew that this was a moment of truth for him. He took a deep breath and stated, "Well, I'm in charge now and I've decided that it is a very appropriate dress for you. I believe you will in fact look very nice in it." He didn't know what he would do though if his mother continued to refuse. He would either have to give in or go to his aunt for help, like a little boy running to his mother when his friends won't play fair with him. That would be rather embarrassing, and further infantilizing.

Fortunately, his mother recognized this point as well. She had agreed to participate in this psychodrama. It was all for the good, the health and maturation, of her son. And, these psychodramas would only be a few days longer. It would be a bit embarrassing to wear such a dress, but it would at least be in the privacy of her home. She wouldn't have to go out in public wearing it. "Alright, alright, I'll put it on," she very reluctantly replied, and reached out to take the skirt from her son.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief, and then strode over to her dresser drawers to consider what blouse would look good with the skirt.

It didn't take him long. He quickly found a very sheer white blouse. He slipped his hand beneath it to discover that it was so sheer that he could readily see his hand through the diaphanous material. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "I think this would be nice."

"Joseph!" Deborah exclaimed in shock. "You can see right through this." She normally wore this blouse beneath a suit jacket.

It didn't seem like much of a meaningful complaint to Joseph, given that he had already seen his mother's naked breasts the other day. But, of course, it would make her feel self-conscious to be so much exposed throughout the rest of the day. "Yes, and well..." He paused hesitantly before he added, "and I don't think you should wear a brassiere."

"Joseph! I'm your mother! You can't be serious!"

"Oh, I am, mother, I am," beginning to feel somewhat more comfortable in this strange new role within the family. It was like he had taken some medicine and he could slowly feel it beginning to work. "I think you will look even more fetching without the brassiere. You really should feel very good about your breasts, mother. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You might be a bit old, but they are still standing up very nicely."

Deborah's face flushed, listening to her son talk this way to her. She wasn't too sure that she liked her son becoming more assertive and comfortable with women. She averted her eyes as she said "Joseph, please, don't talk about me like that. It's just not appropriate."

Joseph didn't argue with her, but he didn't say anything more about her breasts. He moved over to her panty drawer. He discovered that she didn't have a lot of really sexy panties. He suspected that she didn't feel the need for them anymore.

Deborah glanced over at her son inspecting her various panties. This was really very intrusive, and embarrassing. Of course, she had always done precisely the same thing when she was raising him, rifling through his underwear, and she had even continued to do so up to the current day. She would in fact lecture him on how worn, frayed, or stained some of his underwear had become, much to his embarrassment. It only seemed natural, though, as she was his mother. She did, after all, do his laundry.

Joseph finally found a pair that he liked. He pulled them out and held them up for his mother. It was a pair of pink satin thong panties. "Mother, can you explain to me what you are doing with these?" He was reminded of when she once held up for him a dirty magazine that she had found tucked away beneath his mattress.

"That's none of your business, Joseph," she replied defiantly.

"Well, I think these would go well with your skirt."

Deborah had not in fact yet worn the thong. She had purchased a few sexy panties a number of years ago, when she was thinking about dating a man she had met. But, he had never asked her out. She probably should have just thrown the panties away, but she couldn't get herself to do that. They were rather expensive, and perhaps someday they might be put to good use. Well, she hadn't imagined this being their purpose.

"Son, please, that'll be so embarrassing."

"Well, mother, be grateful I'm letting you wear panties."

She scowled at him but simply sighed in frustration and reached out for the panties. As she held them in her hand she contemplated the fact that her bottom cheeks would be fully exposed, plus that darned strap would be sliding into the crack of her bottom. She couldn't imagine that being very comfortable. And, she also wondered how well she would look in them. She had wondered about that when she had first purchased them. Her derriere was not as tight and taut as it had been when she was a young lady.

She softly whimpered with trepidation as she looked at her son. "Well, will you at least leave the room while I get dressed?"

He considered denying her that privacy. She had often stayed in his room, watching him dress. But that was when he was considerably younger, and he really didn't want to unnecessarily embarrass his mother. Of course, it could be more therapeutic for him to stay and watch her. He wasn't really sure about that, not being the professional therapist, but he felt that he didn't really need to watch her dress in order to become a better man. "Sure, mom, of course. I would be happy to. Aunt Susan and I will be in the living room. You can come there when you're dressed."

As he began to depart he realized that he had not picked out her shoes. For him that would be only a choice between dress shoes, tennis shoes, and flip flops, but he noticed that his mother had quite a few more options than that. He reached down and picked up a pair of black high heels. "Oh, these would probably be good too," he said as he handed them to his mother.

As soon as he left Deborah had second thoughts as she gazed upon the garments and shoes she was supposed to wear. She once again considered simply refusing to participate in this psychodrama. But, she did want to be a good mother, to help her son. Imagine not participating in the therapy and then having second thoughts about her decision years from now when Joseph is still insecure, alone, and lonely. Imagine what her sister would say. More importantly, imagine how she'd feel about herself. With a loud, dramatic sigh she changed into the clothes her son had chosen.

Joseph informed Dr. Lowenstein how it went and she was very, very pleased with his choices. They were precisely what she was hoping for. She could see that Joseph was responding very well to the treatment, which was certainly quite fortunate as she would not be visiting her sister and nephew for very long. She would feel terribly uncomfortable leaving them after making very little progress, but she was now feeling quite good about things. She had provided Joseph with his first real test, and he had not only passed but exceeded expectations.

They both smiled as they enjoyed the sight of Deborah walking towards them down the hall, approaching the living room.

Deborah was a very pretty woman, with wavy blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, sparkling blue eyes, smooth white skin, a perky delicate nose, and cute rosy cheeks, and now she looked quite stunning, if a pretty woman dressed as a stripper looked stunning, and to Joseph such a woman would indeed look quite stunning indeed.

Her boobs were clearly evident through the sheer blouse, and they notably wiggled and jiggled as she walked. Joseph was correct that they held up very well for her age, even better than his aunt's. They were clearly a very wondrous set of full, fleshy, bouncy natural boobs. Joseph felt so very proud of his mother, as any son should be.

He smiled as he noticed the nipples, so evident through the diaphanous material, riding the wiggly round white water balloons as she made her way down the hallway in her long high heels. They were standing up so stiff and perky, like they were all excited about the fun ride they were having and being seen once again by her son, as if they missed him so terribly much.

Deborah hesitated before stepping into the living room, noticing again the large open bay window. She would be so terribly embarrassed if someone saw her dressed like this, even well beyond the embarrassment she was already feeling over her son ogling her lewd attire. But, she took a deep breath, her full breasts rising up, and entered the room.

Susan exclaimed, "That's a very pretty outfit Joseph picked out for you, Deborah, don't you think?"

"Yeah, sure," she responded, although not with a tremendous amount of obvious enthusiasm, to say the least. She reminded herself of the time she dressed Joseph for his first day of school. He had been equally less than enthusiastic.

"And," Susan added, "I so much like his decision to have you go without your brassiere." She stepped up to her sister and reached out to grasp each bulbous breast within her hands, giving them a big squeeze.

"Susan! Geez Loise!" Deborah protested her sister's rather brazen impudence, a look of shock in her eyes.

"Well, how can one resist when they're just sticking out there like that, and they're so squeezably squishy and soft." She turned to Joseph as she continued to grope her sister's boobs. "Don't you think so, Joseph?"

It was a clear sign for him to step up and grasp his mother's breasts as well, but Joseph could see the look in his mother's eyes, which clearly expressed a request, if not demand, that he restrain himself. Joseph responded only by saying, rather timidly, "Oh, yeah, sure."

Dr. Lowenstein was not discouraged by his reaction. She could not expect an immediate, full transition. She had only done this to model for her nephew the type of behavior that would be expected of him the rest of the day. She had not expected him to exhibit such progress immediately himself. "Yes, well, gracious, you certainly are showing considerable restraint by not clutching onto these magnificent mammaries yourself, I must say."

She pulled her hands away, much to Deborah's relief. But, Susan then reflected on her decision. "Hmmmm," she said as she pondered for a brief second, and then returned her hands, this time to cup each of them within her palms, as best she could given their size, and then proceeded to bounce them up and down for a bit.


Joseph and His Mother



"Susan, please," Deborah complained. It was terribly embarrassing to have one's boobs bounced so playfully, so disrespectfully, in front of one's own son. She glanced out onto her front lawn and the street beyond. "Can you at least close the drapes?"

Dr. Lowenstein wasn't surprised by her sister's reaction. She was often disappointed to hear how reluctant her patients were to acknowledge to their family or friends about being in treatment. Why the reluctance to admit that you are trying to become a better, stronger, healthier person? She had closed the drapes the previous day, recognizing that it would be asking too much of her sister to be so open during the first session, but she felt that her sister was now ready to take the next step. "Susan," she replied, continuing to playfully bounce and bobble her sister's boobs, "you should not be ashamed or embarrassed about being in therapy."

Joseph's cock had begun to swell as soon as he saw his mother coming down the hall, and it grew even further as he watched his aunt having such fun with his mother's breasts. Perhaps he should participate as well? They could bounce them against one another, like they were having a pillow fight with his mother's boobs.

But, before he could get enough courage to make the suggestion, consistent with prior failures to ask a girl out when the opportunity arose, his aunt let go of them. The moment had passed.

Dr. Lowenstein turned to Joseph to ask, "Well, what sort of housework would you like your mother to perform, Joseph?"

It was not common with any household to have the man of the house decide what chores his wife will perform, but this was all part of the therapeutic exercise. Joseph would have the authority to decide, as usually his mother decided what chores he would have to do. Joseph though kept it rather simple, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. "Well, um, some dusting and cleaning would be nice, I guess, um, here, in the living room."

"Excellent choice!" Dr. Lowenstein reinforced the young man's decision. "Why don't we get out of your mother's way, sit down, and do some reading while she cleans up a bit."

"Um, yeah, sure, of course." Joseph really wasn't into reading but he most definitely would enjoy his mother remaining within his line of vision as she dusted and cleaned. What would be the point of having her wear this outfit if he could not admire her beauty within it. He picked up an issue of Good Housekeeping and sat down in one of the easy chairs. It wasn't a magazine that had much interest for him but he wasn't planning on doing much reading anyway.

Deborah rolled her eyes. She had just cleaned this room a few days ago, and didn't particularly like hearing the suggestion that it needed more cleaning, but she also figured that not only was Joseph not a good judge of what needed cleaning, he probably didn't even care much about it. She left the room to get a rag, dust cloth, cleaning spray, and whatever else she might need.

She took her time gathering the materials, stopping by in the family room bathroom to notice how provocatively she was dressed. She did feel though that her breasts were holding up well. She smiled as she gave them a wiggle. But, it was really so difficult to be dressed this way in front of her son. When she finally returned to the living room it was evident that both her sister and Joseph were going to enjoy the little show, as well would anyone else who happened to be walking or driving by the front of the house. She repeatedly glanced out through the window as she did her cleaning and was relieved to see that nobody was out there, so far. But, she could not avoid the eyes of her sister and son.

It was like she was some sort of classic French maid, bending over to dust or clean here and there. At first she kneeled or squatted, trying to minimize the exposure of her bottom, but that didn't help to hide her breasts, which tended to shake rather embarrassingly as she cleaned a surface of a side table, causing Joseph and her sister to smile approvingly. She considered holding onto her boobs as she cleaned, thereby hiding them a bit and minimizing their shameful wiggling, but that would only draw further attention to them, as well as acknowledge publicly her discomfort with their exposure. Plus, she figured that Susan would just tell her to remove her hand.

She eventually tried bending over, her breasts falling out in front of her, her bottom at least hiding the front of her body if she turned her derriere directly to her son. The skirt was so short though that it was clear that much of her butt was now terribly exposed, like the French maid explicitly trying to entice the man of the house. Still, another advantage of this position was that she couldn't see Joseph seeing her. Out of sight and so a bit out of her mind. Nevertheless, her cheeks reddened as she realized how her other cheeks were being so wantonly displayed.

And Joseph fully appreciated his mother's presentation. She did have a superbly peachy bottom, even for a woman her age. Plus, when a woman bends over like that it makes the curves all the more taut and tight, as well as providing such an enticing display, as if she was in fact trying to draw the attention of the men within the room, offering herself to them like a submissive doe offering herself to a buck.

He admired how the strap of her thong disappeared entirely down within the crack of her cheeky buns. It looked like she wasn't wearing panties at all. Of course, she was, and that was evident by the fact that he couldn't actually see her cunnie, but still, the shiny pink satin was wrapped tightly around her feminine mound, and the sight of that was itself quite pleasing to the eye.

His cock swelled to full length, thrusting out the front of his pants. He wondered if it would be inconsistent with the therapeutic exercise to play with himself as he enjoyed his mother's little show.

"Why don't you help steady your mother, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein suggested, as Deborah was cleaning the large marble window seat below the bay window. "I think when she is bent over like that she might in fact lose her balance. After all, she is wearing heels as you instructed, and they can be pretty tricky sometimes, particularly on this thick carpeting. You wouldn't want her to get hurt, would you?"

"Susan!" Deborah again feebly protested, looking back around her body at her sister, giving her a look of annoyed frustration. How much should a mother do for her son anyway? But, she knew that more would be expected of her than simply cleaning the room wearing provocative clothes.

Joseph ignored his mother's protest and immediately got out of his chair to stride over to her, his dick pointing the way through his slacks.

When he reached his mother he grasped hold of her narrow feminine hips, reminding himself of the pleasure he had the previous evening, admiring her full, round womanly curves.

"Prop up her bottom with your hips, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein instructed. "Press yourself right up against her. I think she needs all the help you can provide."

"Oh mother," Joseph groaned with pleasure as he felt his hard stiff dick press against her upraised, exposed, soft bottom.

"Oh Joseph," Deborah groaned with anxiety as she felt her son's hard stiff dick press against her upraised, exposed bottom.

Joseph did not need further instruction from Dr. Lowenstein. He softly, gently rubbed his cock around and around the tender cushions of his mother's sweet bum. It wasn't as intense as the previous evening's fuck, but dry humping his mother in the living room was still a very sensual and exciting flirtation.

Deborah's face turned a deep red, and it wasn't because it was relatively low to the ground. As she looked out onto her front yard and the street beyond, hoping against hope that nobody would happen by, she thought that her sister better be right about the therapeutic value of her son rubbing his erection against her butt!

Being the good mother that she was, or at least now wanted to be, Deborah reciprocated, pressing her soft bottom back against her son's hard cock and even circling it around and around.

"Oh, mother," Joseph sighed again. He realized that he did indeed have a very, very good mother. Not too many moms will give their sons a lap dance. He considered pulling his dick from his pants so that it would be skin on skin.

Reciprocating her son's sexual play, however, made Deborah even more concerned about being seen, her wiggly boobs readily apparent through the sheer blouse, her butt sticking back up against the crotch of her son, the two of them clearly doing something that should not be done between a mother and son, at least not outside the supervision of a professional therapist, and it was clear that her neighbors would not be aware of that important clarification, and might not believe her when she did eventually explain.

"Joseph, the window! My gracious, the neighbors!" Her eyes scanned up and down the street, searching for a sign that they might have been seen or were in fact being watched. This could perhaps be really going much too far.

Joseph though did not share his mother's concern. In fact, the possibility of being seen by someone in the neighborhood only increased his pleasure and fun. He held tightly onto his mother's hips and thrust his cock harder against her squishy sweet bum cheeks.

"Joseph, please, not here. Let me at least close the drapes."

"Just a bit longer, mother," Joseph demanded. Joseph had never gone to a strip club. He had never had a lap dance before, and he wanted this first one, this very special one, to have a happy ending.

"Oh my gracious!" Deborah suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a UPS man walking up their driveway. He must have parked just out of her sight to the right, behind the drape tucked into the edge of the window. She instantly stood up straight and stepped away from her son, hoping with all her heart that she had seen him before he had seen her.

The man smiled and waved to her as he approached, holding up the package to let her see that he had something for her.

Deborah waved nonchalantly in return, but then noticed the change in the direction of the man's eyes, down to her exposed breasts. A look of embarrassed shock swept over her face. She quickly covered her breasts with her hands and stepped off to the side, out of his sight.

Susan giggled at her sister's embarrassment.

Joseph looked away, not wanting to be disrespectful of his mother, but a little grin did appear on his face. He nodded at the postal delivery man as he walked past the window toward the front door. Joseph turned to his mother to say, "Well, you better get the door. I think you will probably have to sign for the package."

"What?! No! Not like this?! Are you serious?" Deborah could not believe that her son was suggesting such a thing. Maybe she in fact preferred him when he was more timid and submissive.

"Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein said, stepping in to momentarily support Joseph's budding assertiveness, "we do often extend a psychodrama into the real world. It makes the exercises considerably more efficacious and generalizable. I think Joseph's proposal is really quite excellent."

"Geez Louise," Deborah exclaimed, not believing what she was about to do. She could feel her face reddening as she made her way to the door, and then tried to at least appear calm and collected. It's not that easy to willfully negate the blushing of one's face, but it would probably help if she didn't appear so very cognizant of how mortified she really felt.

"Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein added, "why don't you go with your mother. It's not really familial therapy if you are not also involved."

The doorbell rang as Deborah was approaching, and with a deep breath of apprehension she reached out and opened the door.

She could see the eyes of the UPS delivery man widening in startled amazement at the sight of her so terribly exposed, large, white, wiggly boobs, the nipples distending her blouse like a couple of little bullets. It took all her moral strength not to try to hide them with her hands.

The deliveryman was momentarily speechless. He had delivered packages to women in bathing suits and bathrobes before. Some of them had also been wearing rather skimpy outfits, but never before had he in fact had a customer greet him with such a wondrously tantalizing display. It took all of his strength to wrench his eyes away from those two luscious tits to look her in the eye and say, "Yes, ma'am, are you Deborah Lowenstein?"

"Yes, yes," she replied impatiently.

Joseph stepped up behind his mother and reached down, beneath her skirt, to gently lay the fingers of his hand on her soft, sweet, round bum.

"Oh!" Deborah momentarily lurched in surprise, her breasts providing a brief but delightful little dance.

"Yes?" the deliveryman asked.

"What? Oh, no, no, I just there, for a second..." She didn't finish her sentence as she couldn't really come up with a good explanation for her exclamation, particularly as her mind was still distracted by the feel of her son's fingers exploring, caressing, cupping and patting the cheeks of her soft rounded bottom. "Um, yes, well, I'll take that, certainly," she said, with an evident confusion in her voice.

"Oh, yes, certainly, ma'am," he replied. He was feeling a bit flustered himself. He handed her the package, followed by the clipboard and pen for her signature.

Normally she would probably have handed the package back to her son, but its presence within her left hand provided an opportunity for at least some cover. She clutched it against her right breast, twisting her arm somewhat awkwardly to also try hiding the left breast as well. It wasn't real effective, as the package was rather small.

"Would you like me to hold the package, ma'am, while you sign the form?" It was a nice gesture of courtesy.

"No, no, it's fine, I can manage," but her hand trembled a bit as she felt her son's fingers slipping down between her thighs to feel the lips of her cunnie through her satin thong.

Joseph knew that his mother was feeling quite embarrassed by this, but he also noticed how warm, perhaps even hot, her cunt felt. He was also reminded of when his mother embarrassed him at the beach once, requiring that he change into his swim trucks right out in public. That had been terribly humiliating. 

He wasn't doing this though to extract revenge, or at least he didn't feel like he was doing so consciously. Dr. Lowenstein eventually explained to him that psychodrama exercises will often awaken past traumatic memories, and it is through this recollection and conscious processing that the old wounds are healed.

His mind though did not dwell on that memory for long, as he was far more interested in the present: the wonderful feel of his mother's soft, womanly vaginal lips. He wondered if perhaps he might even be able to slip his fingers beneath her thong and into her cunt. It would be kind of nice to finger one's mother while she is conversing with a deliveryman.

Deborah could not help squirming as she felt her son trying to work his fingers beneath her panties, a movement which would only further confused the deliveryman as well agitate her boobs. She rushed her signature on the form and released her hands from the clipboard and pen as if they were hot to her touch. "Yes, thank you very much!" she frantically gasped, like she was in a desperate hurry to go to the bathroom.

"No problem, ma'am," he replied, smiling as he tipped his hat, but the door was largely shut before he even finished his response.

"Joseph!" Deborah exclaimed, as she twisted around to face her son, his fingers pulled from between her thighs. "That was so rude! How could you do such a thing! You should never try to stick your fingers in your mother's, your mother's..." She was having difficulty saying it, let alone letting it happen,"her vagina...young man, like that."

Joseph was nonplussed. Of course it was wrong. What had he been thinking?

Dr. Lowenstein had by now approached them. She could see that her sister was attempting to rebel against the reversal of roles, and it would be important to halt this disruption of the treatment before any regression occurred. "Joseph, are you going to let your mother speak to you in that manner?"

He turned to the doctor. "What? Um, well, no?"

"Of course not," Dr. Lowenstein replied. "Deborah," she said, turning her attention to her sister, "I believe a bit of disciplinary action is due. I suggest you return to the window seat and present yourself to Joseph for the spanking that you now clearly deserve."

"What?! Me?! I'm the one who should be spanked?! Are you crazy?" She really couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Neither could Joseph for that matter, but he did like what he was hearing.

"Now, Deborah," Susan spoke reassuringly to her sister. "I know that psychodrama can at times be a bit difficult. Patients will often resist, perhaps even rebel, but we have been making such good progress to this point. Let's not have it all unravel over a little spanking. Please, if you would." She gestured toward the living room with her right hand.

It would have been better if Joseph had held his ground himself but Dr. Lowenstein felt her mediation was necessary to get Deborah back into the role, to be reminded of the importance of all of this for the health and growth of her son.

Deborah reluctantly made her way back into the living room and up to the marble window seat, in front of the large open bay window. "Oh my goodness," she said softly as she bent over, her hands resting on the cold marble, her bottom again rising up for her son, this time to provide a spanking. Could there be anything more embarrassing than this?

Joseph had followed right behind her, a smile on his face, a very, very stiff dick in his pants. He positioned himself just to her left, a bit behind her. It wasn't really that necessary to raise her skirt as it was so short already. Half of her largely naked tush was already in view. But, a truly effective spanking did require that the skirt be lifted up and over the bottom, offering a more thorough and open presentation of the target of the discipline.

Joseph's smile grew wider as his mother's soft round womanly bottom came into full view. He was reminded of when he had to do this for her, so many years ago. It was indeed a true reversal of roles.

Smack! 

"Joseph!" Deborah squealed in protest, but it was to no avail.

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

Her bottom was squirming and dancing left and right, her boobs waving and swaying beneath her. But Joseph did not let up.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Please! Enough!"

But, it wasn't enough for Joseph.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

He sometimes released his hand from her bottom, other times he let it briefly rest on her tush, enjoying not only the sight of the reddening derriere but also the feel of the soft warming cheek.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Please! Stop!"

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Sorry for what, mother," Joseph asked.

"For, for..." She wasn't actually entirely sure what she was sorry for. She might in fact be sorry for agreeing to participate in this psychodrama, the future health of her son notwithstanding. "For being upset with you."

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Upset over what, mother," he repeated.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

This was just so, so humiliating and wrong. "Upset over you trying to put your finger in mummy's cunnie."

Well, that was probably good enough. But a few more spanks wouldn't hurt.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Oh my gracious, Mrs. Hamilton!"

Deborah had caught the eye of Mrs. Hamilton, a neighbor from down the street. She was the head of the Badger City Garden Club, of which Deborah was a member. She was driving by and happened to glance at the Lowenstein house. Deborah wasn't sure if she saw anything. It was a bit of a distance to her window, but she couldn't help notice the surprised look on her face and the sudden, brief swerve of her car.




Joseph and His Mother



Joseph stopped. He didn't want to get his mother into any trouble. "Well, I think that's fine...for now." He gave her a few affectionate pats.

"Well, Joseph, it appears your mother's bottom is a bit pink. What did your mother do, Joseph, when you had a boo-boo?"

His mother had never referred to an injury that way, at least not that he could remember, but he felt he understood what his aunt was suggesting. "She'd put some ointment or cream on it?"

"No, no, Joseph, I was thinking along the lines of kissing it to make it feel better."

Joseph's cock twitched in agreement. He smiled as he responded, "Oh yes, yes, she would do that too."

"I never did anything like that at all!" Deborah protested.

"Well, I think I'll be a bit more considerate," Joseph suggested.

Dr. Lowenstein smiled at Joseph's spontaneous expression of assertiveness.

Joseph got down on his knees before his mother's reddened butt and planted a firm kiss on each cheek.

"Joseph!" Deborah complained. Her husband had never done anything like that. He liked to fondle, caress, and clutch her bottom, but he never actually kissed it. It was actually rather sweet and intimate, although she did feel rather awkward over the fact that it wasn't as perky and taut as it had been when she was first married. Plus, again, it was her son doing the kissing, rather than a husband.

Kissing his mother's ass was something that Joseph felt he often had to do, but now he was actually doing it and enjoying it very much. It was a very sweet and pleasing ass. Joseph kissed it all over the place, even down within the crack, at times caressing her soft pink warm cheeks with his lips or even with his own cheek.

Deborah began to actually enjoy it. It was helpful in soothing the sting, and it was a rather sweet and intimate expression of affection, at least the way Joseph was doing it.

Joseph slipped a finger under the thong strap just at the beginning of his mother's butt crack, and then slid his finger slowly down, drawing the strap out from her crack.

Deborah raised her head and looked back at him. "What are you doing?" she inquired.

Joseph used his other hand to spread open her left cheek, bringing into view his mother's puckered little anus. He smiled at the sight.

"Joseph, what are you looking it!" She knew full well what he was looking at, and she frankly wasn't so sure that she really wanted him to tell her.

"You have a very cute little butt hole, mother," Joseph observed.

"Joseph, please! That's no way to talk to your mother!" Her husband had most certainly never said that before! She had in fact at times been rather self-conscious about her butt hole when he was doing it to her from behind, wondering if he could in fact see it (of course he could), and whether it was rather repulsive to look at. She had never imagined that a man would actually find it attractive. She certainly hoped that her son was not developing some sort of perversion!

Joseph smiled at her response. She was perhaps risking another spanking with such protest and defiance, but the complaints in fact added to his pleasure. 

"Mother, if you wouldn't mind, could you reach back and spread your cheeks open?"

"Joseph, please! I will do no such thing."

Now she was most definitely risking another spanking.

Dr. Lowenstein considered stepping in before Joseph backed down.

"If you would like another spanking, mother, I will be quite willing to provide it."

Dr. Lowenstein was pleased.

Her sister though was not, and Deborah groaned with humiliation as she reached back and spread open her butt cheeks with her hands, providing Joseph an even better view of her anus.

Joseph reached out and lightly, gently, caressed the puckered curls.

Deborah instinctively squeezed her sphincter tightly shut at the first touch of her son's finger. There was no way she was going to let him in there. She couldn't imagine him even wanting to do that. This was where she would draw the line!

Joseph was intrigued, and aroused, by the feel of the curly red tightly squeezed hole. Plus, it was such an intimate part of his mother. "Did dad ever touch you there?"

Deborah blushed as she turned her face away, not wanting her son to see the shameful and embarrassed expression on her face, although risking a stranger or neighbor witnessing it through the bay window if she did not keep up her watch, her vigil. She responded softly, "No, no he didn't." She wasn't sure if she should feel embarrassed by that admission, or if it was just her more general embarrassment bleeding into her answer.

"Well, I guess that was his loss. Mother, really, I think it's kind of cute, even adorable. Have you ever looked at it yourself?"

"No," she quietly responded. She so much wanted this conversation to end, along with the entire psychodrama. But, still, she was beginning to find his light caresses to be rather pleasing. It was a little ticklish, which caused her bottom to squirm a bit, but it also felt so intimate, so sensual. She hadn't appreciated before how many nerve endings were there, and what it would feel like to have another person touch her there. When it's done by someone else it can be so, so spicy, and perhaps because it was so shameful, so naughty and wrong.

She even sighed with disappointment when he removed his finger.

But, she gasped with shock and excited delight when she felt her son's lips press against her rosebud. "Joseph, my goodness!" Her eyes opened wide. Anyone looking at the window now would have no doubt that something quite risque was happening. Miss Lowenstein bent over, her boobs hanging down, her eyes wide open in shock, her son's face apparently pressed into her butt.

Joseph though didn't keep his lips there long. As soon as he made contact with her anus he felt arousal, excitement, and doubt, all mixed together. Perhaps kissing a woman's anus was a perverted thing to do, and especially risky when it's done in the presence of a professional sex therapist. Dr. Lowenstein can't approve of that! He removed his lips and glanced back at the doctor, his aunt.

Dr. Lowenstein, however, just smiled and nodded with approval. Joseph was making very, very good progress.

Joseph patted his mother's bottom and got back up on his feet. "Okay, mother, I think that's enough...for now."

Deborah stayed bent over for a bit longer. She wasn't really sure she in fact wanted him to stop. Her pussy felt so warm and moist. But, she most certainly was relieved to be able to get out of the sight of a passing neighbor. She stood up as well, and reached back to get the strap of her thong back down into the crack of her butt.

Joseph let his mother do her housework. He needed some time to process with Dr. Lowenstein what had just happened.

He did though keep a close eye on his mother throughout the day, checking up on her, at times even helping her out with some of the cleaning.

Deborah wasn't sure how she felt about it. She had become intensely excited by the teasing ministrations of her son, such wonderful sensations that she had not experienced in years and never expected to experience again. But she could not get it out of her mind that this was her son, and that this was so terribly wrong. Yet, that was also what made it so enticing, so provocative.

She found herself enjoying the fact that she was exciting her son. She had always enjoyed dressing provocatively for her husband, taking pride in the fact that she had such an effect on a man, that she was a very desirable, attractive woman that could drive a man to his knees, openly pleading to be able to see what was under her dress, to touch and feel what he so desperately yearned for.

Her husband had never asked her to wear an outfit as slutty as Joseph had required, and would certainly not have done so outside of the privacy and safety of the bedroom, but that again added to the special thrills she was experiencing. She really didn't know what to expect from her son, what he might ask of her, require of her. She could feeling her cunnie lips moistening and melting at the thought, at the expectation, the anticipation.

Still, it was also a bit demeaning to have her son ogle her like that as she bent over to pick up something from the floor, her largely naked bottom coming back into full view, his hand at times reaching out to give her a little affectionate pat, perhaps even a fondle and caress. It was the hand of her son! It just felt so wrong, so bad, so disrespectful and inappropriate. But, she could see that her son was indeed becoming more confident, more assertive, and that was most certainly a very good thing.

Dinner was particularly difficult, as her breasts were so wantonly displayed. She had originally been planning on serving chicken, but decided against it. Puns about thick, juicy breasts would, of course, be quite silly and juvenile, but she would prefer to simply avoid them altogether. Plus, their presence on the dinner table would only further accentuate the presence of her own, if any further titillation was really possible.

She was also struck by how much her bosoms wiggled and jiggled as she passed around the plates and ate her own meal. They were really impossible to keep still or ignore, and it was evident that Joseph was enjoying the feast for his eyes as well as the more conventional one for his mouth. At times he wouldn't even look away when she caught him staring at them. He would just smile at her.

"You really do have lovely breasts, mother," he eventually acknowledged. "This ham is really good too." It was only natural to compliment the meal that mom prepared, and it seemed comparably natural to compliment her looks.

"Uh, thank you, Joseph," Deborah replied.

"They really are very nice, Deborah," Susan agreed. She in fact was feeling a little jealous. Joseph had so much enjoyed her breasts the other night but it was clear now where his full attention was focused. But, this was not a competition among women, sisters no less, this was an important therapeutic process and she had to maintain her professional detachment. Much as she would like Joseph to notice her own breasts again, it was important for him to bond, to connect, with his mother. She would not interfere with that.

"Yes, well, thank you as well, Susan." Such a compliment from her husband would have been comfortably received, but their comments only made her even more self-conscious about their exposure.

"Is your blouse irritating your nipples, mother?"

"What?" She looked with concern at her son.

"I was just thinking that maybe without a brassiere, and with them swinging around like that, beneath your blouse, that they might feel a little scratchy, or itchy."

Deborah could feel her face turning red again. "No, no, they're fine, son. They're fine." She wondered if he was going to suggest that she remove her blouse. She would certainly prefer not to, but given its sheerness it really wouldn't make that much difference.

"Why don't you try rubbing your glass of ice water against them. Maybe that will help sooth them."

"Excuse me?"

"Just rub each one of them a little bit. I think they'd like that."

"That's a very wonderful suggestion, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein agreed. "How very considerate of you."

Deborah sighed deeply, her breasts rising with the intake of air, then falling with the release. She reached for her cold glass of ice water, upon which there was considerable condensation. She pressed the cold, wet glass against her left nipple, releasing a little whimper as she did so, both in response to the feel of the very cold, wet glass against her nipple, and at the realization of what she was doing, in front of her son, and her sister.

"Rub it around a bit," Joseph instructed. "I think that will help."

"Yes, son," she meekly replied, feeling her nipple stiffen to full strength. She then shifted the glass to her right nipple, and whimpered again as she looked down to see how her left nipple was now even more exposed. It was taut and distended, and her whole areola was clearly evident through the moistened fabric.

She continued to sigh and whimper in response to the provocative and pleasing sensations. The cold wetness against her nipple did feel rather nice. If she was by herself she would enjoy this with much more abandon.

"I think she likes it, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein observed. "That was very thoughtful to make the suggestion."

"Thank you, Dr. Lowenstein. I mean, Aunt Susan."

Dr. Lowenstein smiled back. It was only natural for Joseph to get a bit confused as to what to call her, as she was both his aunt and now his family therapist.

Deborah returned her glass to the table, feeling a bit flustered and confused, her breasts rising and falling a bit more quickly, and noticeably.

Susan asked, "A woman's nipples do look very nice when they're pointing out so stiffly. Don't you think so, Deborah?"

"I suppose," Deborah softly replied, and then added, a smile suddenly appearing on her face, "Why don't you try it yourself? I don't imagine Joseph would mind. Would you, Joseph?"

Joseph wouldn't mind at all and his head quickly turned to his aunt, his eyes shifting from her breasts to her face, waiting expectantly for her answer.

Susan giggled. "Oh, don't you think I haven't thought about it. I certainly have, but this is really a moment between the mother and son. It would not be right, as a therapist, to get in the way of that."

Joseph was disappointed, but that did make sense. He would just have to settle at the dinner table with his mother's nipples, but that was hardly a burden. He turned back to smile at his mother. "Well, I think your nipples, mother, are plenty good enough for me."

Dr. Lowenstein smiled. That should be true for any son, and it was so nice to hear Joseph's affirmation of his feelings for his mother.

Deborah smiled back, not quite sure how best to respond, feeling in fact rather foiled in her effort to shift some of the attention to her sister.

During the course of the dinner Joseph had his mother redo the applications of the cold, wet glass a few more times. It was helpful in keeping the nipples nicely stiff. In fact, during desert he had her just take an ice cube out of her glass and apply it directly. That turned out to be a pretty good idea as he and Susan could see that she responded especially well to that, at times even gasping, her breasts heaving.

Dr. Lowenstein suggested after dinner that mother and son engage in a trust exercise.

"Trust exercise?" Deborah inquired, with understandable trepidation.

"Oh yes," Susan responded. "They are quite common during group, family, and marital therapies. I'm sure you've heard of them."

"I guess I have," Deborah replied.

"Oh yes, of course you have. You know, sometimes persons fall backwards into the hands of a partner, trusting that they will be caught."

Deborah took a deep breath. She imagined in this case she would have to fall forward, with Joseph catching her by her breasts. Her sister wouldn't have him do that, would she?

"But, in psychosexual psychodrama it's a bit different."

Somehow Deborah was not surprised.

"We want the exercise in this instance not only to express feelings of trust but also intimacy and bonding."

This really didn't sound good to Deborah, even though perhaps it should. What's wrong with intimacy and bonding?

"The exercise I like to use is to have you shave one another."

"Excuse me?" They both exclaimed, in unison, already beginning to bond.

"Yes, yes, of course. It's a really wonderful way to get close to one another, as well as to express your feelings of trust."

Deborah swallowed and asked the obvious question. "Shave where?"

"Now where do you think, Deborah? You don't think I would have you two shave your heads, do you?" Susan chuckled at her sister's silliness.

"Geez Louise," Deborah said softly. "You want him to shave me...down there?"

Joseph's cock swelled, once again, and he felt rather surprised that it did. Shaving a woman had never been one of his masturbation fantasies, and he had quite a few of them, but clearly his dick liked the idea.

"Of course, of course," Susan replied matter-of-factly.

"I've never even shaved myself, down there," Deborah noted, somewhat quietly, finding it a bit awkward to discuss this in the presence of her son.

"Well, gracious me, why not?"

"Why not? What for?"

"Well, you shave your legs, don't you? You shave under your arms. You trim your eyebrows and eye lashes. Why not take care of the unsightly hair in your most feminine spot, the very spot that interests a man the most."

Deborah was taken aback. She fell silent. Her sister seemed to be making a good argument. She had never thought about it that way before. She had never thought about shaving down there at all, although when she was married, when her husband was loving her, down there, with his mouth, she had felt that her hair must have been a bit annoying, if not unpleasant, for him.

Susan could see that Deborah had no further objection, or at least no further argument. "Alright then, let's get started. Deborah, I'm sure you have the necessary equipment. Why don't you go get it. Joseph, why don't you fill up the big popcorn bowl with some hot water. We can set everything up in the family room where everyone will be most comfortable.

It took awhile to get everything arranged, perhaps due in part to Deborah dragging her feet. She also suggested that they do it in the bathroom, where she normally shaved. The bathroom can be a nice place for psychodrama as it was a very intimate and private room, but Dr. Lowenstein felt that the environment there would be too stark and austere.

Once everything was nicely arranged on the coffee table, Joseph asked, "Are we going to do this at the same time?"

"Well, in advanced stages of therapy," Dr. Lowenstein explained, "I would have you do it at the same time, but you two are just beginners and so we will make it simple. You can take turns. Susan, why don't you first shave Joseph, and then he can do you when you're done."

It was now Joseph's turn for his heart to race, to be suddenly fraught by feelings of apprehension and doubt.

"Come on now," Dr. Lowenstein encouraged her nephew, "Get your pants and underwear off so that your mother can cut your hair."

Deborah had cut her son's hair when he was little, and she felt she had done a pretty good job at it. She in fact resisted for quite some time to let him get it done by a professional barber. He had complained that he was too old to have his mother still cutting his hair and he wanted it done a certain special way that she couldn't or wouldn't do. She had felt though that the money they saved by having her continue to do it was a pretty darned good argument.

Those memories flooded back, for the both of them, as Joseph removed his pants and boxers. But, the memory of the past was suddenly halted by the immediacy of the moment when Joseph's erection came into view.

Deborah turned away, her face reddening.

"Well, my, my," Dr. Lowenstein exclaimed as she draped a few towels on one of the easy chairs. "It appears that Joseph is quite excited about having his mother cut his hair."

Joseph's erection was due largely to his mother's outfit, particularly her exposed breasts, as well as the thought of shaving her pussy, but now that his cock was out he had to admit that it was kind of nice to be showing it off to his mother and aunt. He was reminded again, as he had been the other night, of how so many times as a child he would display some prize or achievement to his mother, seeking her admiration, her approval, her love. He again wondered how she felt about his stiff dick. She had never actually said anything the other night, although actions can speak louder than words.





Joseph and His Mother



"Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein directed, "You sit right here, right on the edge of the chair and your mother can kneel in between your legs. I'll bring over everything she'll need.

Joseph got into position, his stiff dick thrusting out from the chair.

Deborah knelt between his thighs, as her sister had instructed. She repeatedly glanced at her son's hard, stiff cock. This was not, of course, the first time she had seen it erect. She got a very good look at it the previous evening, but it was still something quite difficult to get used to, seeing her son's naked manly erection. It just felt so, so wrong, yet so, so provocatively exciting. She could feel her pussy again warming and moistening yet her mind telling her to look away.

Dr. Lowenstein handed her the scissors. "Now, first just give him a nice close trim. It's easier to shave once the thick shrubbery is cleared out."

"Yes, ma'am," Deborah quietly and submissively responded.

Joseph felt a moment of apprehension as he watched the sharp blade of the scissors approach his dick, but he soon relaxed and simply enjoyed the cut, seeing his thrusting stiff cock pointing at his mother's face, her eyes, and her lips.

Deborah could not ignore her son's hard truncheon as it was directly in her line of vision and just inches away. It looked so wrong yet so manly, so powerful, so delectable. She bit her lower lip, trying to maintain her concentration on cutting her son's hair. She certainly didn't want to accidentally cut him.

Joseph could see his mother trying to avoid his cock, like she was actually afraid of it. It was odd, as it made him feel even stronger, more powerful, like his cock was actually a weapon that put fear into the heart of a woman, and a woman that for years held all the power over him. He wasn't so sure that he really wanted his cock to be a weapon. He would much rather have a woman love it, desire it, rather than fear it, but this brief moment of sensing its power and strength was therapeutic.

Dr. Lowenstein also noticed Deborah's apprehensive avoidance of her son's cock. It seemed like she dare not even touch it, yet it did at times get in her way and it would have been helpful to at least push it aside. She would have to tweak the exercise a bit.

Once Deborah was finished with the trim she applied the shaving gel.

"Work it in thoroughly, Deborah. It'll make the shaving much easier."

"Yes ma'am," Susan quietly replied.

"And get it on the shaft as well. He's got a few hairs there that need to come off."

That fact was a little embarrassing to Joseph. He had noticed them himself and wondered if he should cut them off. It just didn't look right to have a couple of stray hairs there. Now he wished he done it before his mother had to take care of them. He was reminded of when his mother had critiqued his first efforts at shaving. She would repeatedly take him back to the bathroom to fix his mistakes. It was at times like those that he sorely wished he had a father.

Deborah's heart raced as she gripped the thick hard shaft of her son's cock to work in the shaving gel. It felt very much like she was jerking him off with slick lubrication.

Joseph gripped tightly on the arm rests of the chair as he felt his mother stroke his cock, the gel serving as a very, very nice slippery lotion. There was something wonderfully different about the feel of another person's fingers on one's cock, and it was exponentially better when it was the fingers of one's own mother. He imagined cumming right then, blasting a load of his own thick white gel onto her face as she worked the other gel into his shaft. But he quickly got that thought out of his mind as he doubted that would or should be part of the exercise, at least not yet. Just as he was trusting his mother not to cut him, she was probably trusting him not to cum on her face.

Once the gel appeared to be thoroughly worked in Dr. Lowenstein instructed her sister to begin shaving off the remaining hair. She added, "To help keep Joseph's erection from getting in the way, why don't you hold it steady with your lips."

"What?"

"It's not like you haven't had it in your mouth before."

She was right about that, but it's not like you get quickly used to having your son's cock in your mouth. Deborah whimpered with apprehension as she leaned forward. This was so very, very wrong but she also knew that a part of her didn't really mind. In fact, a part of her wanted it there, wanting to again feel the thick soft crown of a man's cock between her lips, against her tongue. It would, though, be her son's cock and another part of her felt quite ambivalent and even a bit guilty over enjoying that thought. She slowly parted her lips and pressed her face forward, feeling his thick meaty bulb touch and then slide past her wet lips to enter her mouth.

She shut her lips around the crown, just below its lip and then held onto it tightly as she began to shave off her son's hair.

It took all of Joseph's strength not to tremble and lurch with pleasure. The sight and sensation were just so intense, so extraordinary, so consuming.

"Now be careful to hold still, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein warned him. "Keep yourself steady for your mother and certainly don't ejaculate into her mouth. You might make her razor slip."

It was good advice, but not so easy to follow, the sight of his knob lost between the lips of his mother's pretty mouth.

And his mother didn't help when she suddenly flickered her tongue against the tip of his dick. She just couldn't help herself. What is a woman to do when there is a hard tasty cock in her mouth? You really couldn't expect her to do nothing.

"Geeez," Joseph gasped, gripping even tighter on the arm rests. 

Deborah glanced up at her son, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. It was so nice being able to flirt with and tease a man again, and she did feel that she was sharing a rather precious and tender moment of trust with her son, albeit a bit perverse perhaps.

She did though maintain her concentration on the task, and was particularly cautious and careful when she slid the razor up and down the shaft, getting those last few pesky stray hairs off. When she was done she let her son's cock pop out of her mouth, and licked her lips.

Joseph sighed with relief, not only because his mother hadn't cut him but also because he hadn't cum, although he was feeling like he really, really would like to do that.

"All done?" Deborah asked her sister.

"You still have his testicles."

"His testicles as well?" Deborah asked, wondering if that was perhaps a bit too risky.

"Well, absolutely. You don't want him to have a beard now, do you? And, besides, shaving the balls is the most delicate part: a real test of trust."

That was a good point and Joseph gasped with renewed pleasure as he felt his mother work the gel into the soft, sensitive skin of his nuts. She was being especially cautious and gentle now, as any considerate, loving mother would be. He had not in fact ever played with his own balls when he masturbated, and now wondered why he hadn't ever thought about trying that. They were indeed so ticklishly tender.

Deborah even giggled over this task. She knew how sensitive men were down there, and how nervous they could get when you touched them there. It was so very odd for a man to be so strong, forceful, and domineering, easily overpowering a woman, yet having this very, very weak vulnerability that could reduce him to a whimpering weakling.

She had no intention though of actually hurting Joseph. She was instead enjoying the pleasure she knew she was giving him. She softly caressed and tickled his nuts. "Do you like that, Joseph?"

"Oh yes, mother," he gasped.

"My little Joey likes having his mother tickle his balls?" She was most definitely getting into the role play, beginning to lose herself within the psychodrama.

"Yes, yes, I do, mother," Joseph gasped his confession.

Dr. Lowenstein was very pleased that her sister was now embracing, at least for the moment, the psychodrama, but she warned her, "You mustn't get him too excited, Deborah, the evening is still young."

Deborah was disappointed but she stopped and reached for the razor.

Joseph gulped in apprehension as he watched his mother bring the razor to his nuts.

"Keep his penis in your mouth, Deborah," the doctor reminded her.

"Yes, ma'am," she replied, returning her lips to his dick, wrapping them again around his thick, swollen crown, this time instantly bringing her tongue to her son's soft, tasty plum.

Joseph would have preferred that she skip that part. It had been fun before, and it still was, but now he felt his mother's dexterity was being truly tested.

Deborah did stop licking her son's crown once she started shaving his nuts. The wrinkly loose skin was much more difficult to shave then the smooth tight skin of his abdomen, groin, and shaft. She proceeded though very carefully, very gently, all the time controlling his knob with her mouth. But, when she was done she did give him a brief lick and once she slipped his cock from her mouth she also gave him a little kiss on the tip. "All done!" she exclaimed, just as she had done when she had finished cutting his hair as a boy.

"Excellent work, Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein said approvingly, as she handed to her a hot wet wash cloth to clean off the remaining gel.

Once that was done Susan announced, "Alright then, Deborah, now it's your turn."

The apprehension and doubt returned to Deborah's mind, and heart. She got back on her feet, her legs a bit wobbly, perhaps with having knelt there for so long but more likely out of trepidation.

"Make room for your mother, Joseph."

"Yes, ma'am," Joseph said, getting out of the chair.

"Take your panties off, Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein instructed as she replaced the towels with some fresh, clean ones for her sister's shaving.

Deborah removed her panties, and then wondered where she should place them.

"Why don't you hand your panties to your son, Deborah. He can look after them for you."

Well, that was a bit odd, but she did as her sister instructed.

Joseph smiled as he received them. He had not put his pants back on. Somehow he felt like he would like to keep his cock out as he shaved his mother's cunt. He accepted the panties from his mother, and felt an impulse to give them a sniff, although he knew that he would have a better appreciation of his mother's womanly scent in just a few moments.

"You can hang your mother's panties on your own peg, there, Joseph."

"What?"

Dr. Lowenstein took the panties from Joseph's hand and slipped one of the leg holes over his cock. "That's a nice place to hang them and this will help to inspire you to keep it hard. You wouldn't want your mother's panties to fall to the floor, would you?"

"No, no, ma'am," Joseph replied, his dick twitching with the pleasure of having his mother's sexy panties hanging from his stiff dick.

Deborah rolled her eyes as she dutifully raised her skirt and sat back into the easy chair.

"No, no, Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein corrected her sister, "Spread your legs way out and over the arm rests, and slide your cunnie all the way over to the edge. You want to give your son a good open view."

Deborah's face reddened further, if that was really possible. She was reminded of when she first went to a gynecologist as a young lady. It had been so, so embarrassing to have to spread herself open to a strange man like that. It helped a bit that a nurse was present, but it was still rather humiliating. Well, this was quite a bit worse, as she was spreading her legs open for her own son, whose eyes were now just inches away. Could she give him a better look at her pussy? She couldn't see how.

"Don't you think your mother's cunt is quite pretty, Joseph?"

"Yes, ma'am, yes I do," Joseph admitted.

Deborah covered her face with her hands. They didn't have to talk about it like that, did they?

Joseph could even sense a strong feminine arousal, the scent of her mother's cunt wafting up into his nose. All that stimulation, that warming and moistening all day long, had provided her with quite a lustful aroma.

Dr. Lowenstein continued, "And you'll soon get a much better appreciation of it once we remove all this shrubbery. Now, just as your mother did, first just trim it back."

"Yes, ma'am," Joseph replied, taking the scissors from the doctor to trim back his mother's hair, getting his eyes and nose in very close as he did so, enjoying the sultry scent of her womanliness. He had such an urge to give her a little lick and kiss. He could even see through the bush that her lips were very wet, and he smiled at the realization that his mother was so aroused and excited. 

He was careful though in the trimming. No boy would want to cut his mother's cunt, but this part wasn't terribly difficult as the whole area was rather smooth, bereft of the cumbersome shaft and balls of a man.

Once this task was done he reached for the shaving gel and applied it to his mother's pussy. He made sure that he covered her thoroughly and took his time working it in. There were little to no hairs actually right on the labia lips, but he still concentrated much of his attention there, as he could feel and see that his mother did enjoy it, as did he.

Deborah most certainly did. She even removed her hands from her eyes and looked down to watch her son caress and massage the lips of her now very slippery and slick cunnie. She had never received a massage quite like this, not even from her husband. She hadn't ever thought of applying lotion down there when he diddled her, nor even when she diddled herself, relying instead on just her own natural lubrication, which was pretty nice, but this was a lot, lot better.

Her breasts heaved with excitement and, like Joseph, her hands gripped tightly on the arm rests, her pelvis and cunnie squirming under the wriggling fingers of her son, who was now paying special attention to her erect clit. "Joseph, goodness," she gasped, wanting him now to even plunge one of his fingers up inside. She thrust her cunt out at him, trying to let him know what she wanted.

"I think she's ready, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein announced, although she meant ready for her shave.

"Yes, ma'am," Joseph replied, disappointed that he was denied taking his mother all the way to an orgasm.

Deborah was disappointed as well, and through a few heaving gasps she worked to regain her composure. She certainly couldn't, or shouldn't, squirm that way while he applied the razor. She took another firm grip on the arm rests to steady herself.

Joseph was nervous. Any guy probably would be if he had to apply a sharp razor to a woman's pussy, especially his mother's. He did use a razor when he shaved each morning, but the skin of his chin was smooth. His mother's feminine lips were rather fleshy, wavy, and curled, although that part didn't need much work.

Dr. Lowenstein could sense Joseph's nervousness, evident in part by a slackening of his penis. "Joseph, the trick here is to be confident and assertive. It is the doubt and apprehension that will cause an accident. Now, you just get right in there and make your mother's cunnie all smooth and pure."

Joseph went to work, and soon discovered that it wasn't really that hard. If he remained confident and calm it was rather easy. Even her lips weren't difficult as they had little to no need of a shave.

Deborah watched, holding her breath, now fully realizing why they considered this to be a trust exercise. She was not too confident of her son's ability, and then realized that she often felt this way, generally not feeling that he was a capable, skilled, able young man, still thinking of him as her dependent, at times even incompetent son. She had to admit that her sister was in fact a pretty good therapist, as she was developing insight into her son's infantilization.

When he was done with the shaving Dr. Lowenstein handed him a warm wet wash cloth to clean off the remaining gel, and reveal to his eyes his mother's now pure, lily white smooth, hairless cunnie.

"It's even prettier now, isn't it, Joseph."

"Susan," Deborah softly complained, but this time with less sincerity. She looked down at it and admitted, to herself, that she did like it. She had never considered her pussy to be actually pretty, but she did now, no longer covered by an unkempt, disheveled hairy growth.

Joseph didn't say anything. He just nodded. It did look real nice this way. It just looked so deliciously pure, exposed, and inviting.

"And, look, you can even see that your mother likes it, as her moisture is already reappearing."

"Susan, please," Deborah pleaded, now with more sincerity, turning her eyes away, not wanting to notice the truth.

She was right though. Joseph could see some glistening moisture.

There was really only one thing to do now, and it most certainly had to be done. Before any objection could be made he bent forward and applied his lips to his mother's smooth, slippery lips.

"Joseph!" Deborah gasped with surprise, and a lusting thrill, as she felt her son's lips engage hers. Her fingers tightened their grip on the arm rests, resisting the urge to grasp instead her son's head and press and mash his young face into her cunt, as she had sometimes done with her husband, at the peak of her arousal and excitement.

Joseph nibbled and munched obscenely on his mother's cunt. It just tasted so good, and felt so wonderful. Is there anything more enjoyable, more satisfying, to eat than a woman's cunt? He also made sure that he included her clit in his feast, pressing his lips and tongue hard against her stiff little nub, circling and rubbing his lips and tongue around, giving it as much loving stimulation as he could.

"Oh, Joseph, my son," Deborah gasped with animalistic abandon, obscenely thrusting her cunt into his face, grinding her cunt lips and clit against his mouth, masturbating herself on her son's face.

Dr. Lowenstein tapped Joseph's shoulder. "I think that's enough of this exercise for now. Let's clean up and perhaps we can just sit back for a bit and enjoy some television. What do you think, Joseph?"

Joseph pulled his face away from his mother's cunt, his lips, cheeks, and chin awash with her juices. "Really?"

Deborah was equally surprised. Was frustration part of their therapy? It certainly appeared that way. She fell back down into the chair, again attempting to regain control of her breathing, her hunger.

"Oh yes, yes. I think the exercise was very useful for both of you, developing a strong sense of trust in one another and even some bonding. Don't you think?"

"Yes, ma'am," Joseph agreed.

Deborah just nodded.

"Now, you get your pants back on, Joseph. No need to have them off while you're watching television, but I think that your mother doesn't really have any need for her panties. I think she should show off her nice new haircut. Don't you think, Joseph?"

Joseph slowly got back onto his feet, his legs now feeling rather awkward, and looked back down at his mother's shave cunt. It really did look nice. No reason to keep it hidden.

Deborah's face again flushed. It did look much better this way, but also rather exposed, and she couldn't help feeling a bit self-conscious having her sister and son ogling it. She pulled her skirt back down over it, but it was such a short skirt she knew that it would occasionally peek out.

"Deborah, we'll clean up here. Why don't you make your son a big bowl of buttery popcorn." She handed the bowl of warm water, now filled with used gel, to Deborah.

"Alright, sure," she replied as she got out of the chair to accept the bowl.

"And, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein said, handing to him one of the wet wash cloths. "You clean off your face. It's quite a mess, I must say."




Joseph and His Mother



Deborah blushed and took the bowl to the kitchen, feeling glad to have some time to herself, to regain her composure.

Joseph did enjoy a bowl of popcorn, although his mother disapproved of how buttery he liked it and the possibility that some would inevitably spill onto the couch while he was watching TV.

Deborah took her time making the popcorn. She didn't really need to take much time because she would be placing a bag within the microwave (the extra-buttery variant). But, she wanted some time alone. She was feeling a little confused, and very much aroused.

By the time she returned to the family room everything had been cleaned up.

Joseph smiled as he enjoyed the sight of his mother bringing him a bowl of fresh hot popcorn, along with a nice cold soda. He hadn't asked her for that, and so he was very appreciative of her consideration.

Plus, she just looked so hot, with that exceedingly short skirt, exposing pretty much all of her shapely legs and thighs, and that blouse, which hid nothing, her breasts wobbling and wigging while she walked. He patted a spot on the couch next to him, wanting her to sit there, by him. He was feeling very close to and fond of his mother. He wanted her as close as possible, by his side, as a mother should be.

Deborah did as her son instructed, first placing the soda on the end table next to him, and then moving around to his other side to take her place beside him. She handed the bowl over to him and could not help but say, "Now, be careful and don't spill any of it."

Joseph sighed but her admonition gave him an idea, inspired in part by the exercise in trust. "Mother, why don't you hold the bowl for me. That way you can be sure it won't spill."

Deborah glanced at her sister, hoping that perhaps she would intervene, on her behalf. There was little hope of that but it was a little weird, if not rather self-centered of Joseph, to expect that she would or should hold the bowl for him.

But, Susan only nodded her head, indicating that she should continue to do what her son requests.

"Well, alright, if you want me to," she replied deferentially, and rested the bowl in her lap, her exposed breasts hanging over it.

"Actually, mother," Joseph suggested, "why don't you get onto the couch, kneeling toward me. That way I won't have to reach around."

Deborah rolled her eyes. That was really going too far, to have to actually kneel by her son on the couch, just to hold the popcorn for him. Deborah though got into the position her son requested, feeling much like a submissive servant, perhaps even more like a harem slave, with her very short skirt and sheer blouse, kneeling beside her master as he enjoyed his "grapes."

Kneeling this way provided Joseph a better view and access to his mother's breasts. Before he took any of the popcorn he reached out to cup one of her breasts in his hand and bobble it a bit.

Deborah whimpered with embarrassment.

His mother did have such magnificent breasts, which were really quite appropriate to admire at the moment, as he was watching a rerun of The Girls Next Door, starring Bridget, Holly, and Kendra, who had pretty darned nice breasts of their own, which they would always openly display. "Really, mother, I think your boobs are as good as any of them on the show."

"That's very sweet of you to say, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein replied, but then added, "Their boobs though are much bigger than your mother's, and I imagine even firmer."

Deborah glanced briefly at her sister, a funny, quizzical look on her face. She wasn't comfortable about her son complimenting her breasts, but she was equally troubled with her sister apparently trying to undermine the compliment. She attributed it though to sibling rivalry. They had always been competitive with one another when it came to their attractiveness. She didn't articulate any of this out loud, though, not wanting to keep their attention on her boobs.

"Well, even though I like Bridget's, and Holly's, I really do think I like yours better."

"Thank you, Joseph," Deborah said quietly, feeling quite embarrassed about such a compliment, although in fact appreciating how he stood up for them.

His preference could simply reflect a bird in the hand. Joseph wondered if Bridget was on his left and he was fondling her boobs whether he would still prefer his mother's. But, there was no reason to point that out.

Dr. Lowenstein suggested, "A boy can have a very deep, fundamental attachment to his mother's breasts." She had made a similar point the previous evening.

Joseph responded, "Well, I just think they have such a wonderfully womanly shape. I much prefer natural breasts. Bridget's might in fact be fake, and these are so nicely squeezable." Joseph gave his mother's boob a big squeeze and then her nipple an extended pinch and pull, causing his mother to again quietly whimper, the bowl of popcorn subtly quivering in her hands.

Joseph decided he would in fact be even more considerate of his mother. After all, she should enjoy herself as he enjoyed the show, the popcorn, and her boobs. As he reached into the bowl with his left hand he slipped his right hand under his mother's miniskirt.

"Joseph!" Deborah gasped and flinched at the feel of the touch of her son's fingers on her pussy. The bowl lurched in her hands, almost spilling a kernel or two.

Joseph felt how warm and wet his mother's bald pussy still was. He smiled up at his blushing mother.

Her eyes had closed in confused arousal as her son gently explored and fondled her warm, wet, thick, feminine hairless lips. "Oh Joseph, please," she pleaded, albeit it was not entirely clear whether it was a plea to stop or to continue.

"Did my dad ever touch you like this?"

She whispered her response, "Well, yes, Joseph, of course." It was only natural for a son to ask about a missing father.

"Did you get real wet like this?"

"Joseph," she softly protested, finding the question rather personal, as well as her position quite awkward to be still holding a bowl of popcorn while her cunt was being caressed and fondled. She could not help but squirm a bit in response.

Joseph picked out a few kernels with his left hand, and then worked his middle finger up into his mother's slick, tight hole.

"Oh my goodness," Deborah gasped, glancing briefly at her sister watching from across the room, smiling.

Joseph was again impressed at how tight his mother's pussy was. Perhaps she didn't have sex that often with his dad. Perhaps only enough to have her three children? He was curious about that, but felt any such questions would be too personal and not really his business. He slowly worked his finger deeper and deeper inside, screwing his finger up into her hole, as well as bringing his thumb into the action, pressing it hard against her stiff nub, circling it around and around against her clit.

"Joseph," his mother softly gasped as she felt herself getting more and more aroused by her son's fingering. It really wasn't wrong, was it, to have her son do this to her? It was therapy, wasn't it? Whatever it was, it just felt so, so nice. No man had touched her there in years. It was just so marvelous to once again feel a man getting her more and more excited.

It was hard for Joseph to maintain his attention on the television show, as the woman kneeling beside him was far more engaging. As he tried to pay attention to what Kendra was saying, something about being real good at golf, he gently but assertively fucked his mother's cunt with his finger while he diddled her clit with his thumb. It wasn't long before her cunt began to make rather lewd slushing and slurping noises, as her moisture leaked out onto her thighs.

"Joseph, please," his mother pleaded. This time it was clear that it was because she was embarrassed to be finger fucked like this by her son, and even more embarrassed to be so clearly enjoying it; her swollen, dripping, slurping cunt making that very clear.

"Just let yourself enjoy it, mother," Joseph quietly reassured her. "It's my gift to you."

Deborah whimpered with libidinous passion and she began to openly hump her son's finger, risking the spilling of the popcorn but feeling urges and needs that wanted resolution, that wanted fulfillment. She so hoped that she did not look too terribly obscene. It was not a behavior a mother would normally reveal to her son, would normally let her son witness and observe, but she just couldn't help herself, as it was the natural, understandable response.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," she groaned with each hump on her son's finger.

Joseph was now paying no attention to the television show, although oddly enough still dipping the fingers of his left hand into the bowl for more popcorn, while the finger of his right hand swirled, curled, and twittered within his mother's clenching, squeezing, humping, grinding cunt.

"You're so fucking hot, mom," Joseph whispered, hoping that would in fact be a compliment rather than an embarrassment.

"Oh Joseph," his mother gasped, wanting so much to put down the popcorn, to perhaps even just toss it aside, so that she could wrap her arms around her son, press her breasts against his body, and more easily, feverishly, fuck his finger.

Joseph squeezed a second finger up into his mother's cunt, twirling and screwing each of them in different ways, like two little snakes trying desperately to find their way to the end of this tight, gripping hole, all the time concentrating as well on his thumb, which was now frantically massaging his mother's electrified clit, rubbing it around and around.

"Joseph, please, you're making me, I'm going to..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"You're going to what, mother?"

"Don't, please." It was again unclear exactly what she was protesting, but she did now finish her sentence, in between gasps of breath. "You're going to...make me...orgasm."

"You're going to cum on my fingers, mother?" 

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She obscenely exclaimed as her body was suddenly wracked with the trembling, shivering waves of her climax sweeping over her body. She bent forward, her thighs trembling. The bowl fell from her hands, the popcorn spilling all over Joseph's lap, and onto the couch and carpeting.

She just couldn't help herself. She reached for Joseph's shoulders and pulled herself to him, pressing her big soft boobs into his chest, rubbing her stiff nipples against him as she continued to hump and grind on his fingers. "Oh Joseph," she gasped, "so incredible; so, so wonderful."

Joseph smiled. Could there be anything more satisfying to a son than to bring his mother to orgasm? Not too many young men can claim that achievement. Joseph felt very affirmed as a young man. He had grown up in such a short period of time.

Deborah held tightly onto her son, her body still quivering and twitching with her orgasm. It was winding down but she still felt little aftershocks, bolts of pleasure running through her loins like little electrical shocks. Her thighs were soaked with her juices.

Joseph let his fingers stay within his mother's cunt for a bit, enjoying the tightness, the wetness, the occasional quiver.

He did eventually pull them out, making a rather lewd slushing noise as he did so.

His mother whimpered into his shoulder with embarrassment, feeling more of her wetness slipping out with his fingers and running down her thigh, probably even dripping onto the couch.

Deborah reluctantly pulled herself away from her son, but she couldn't look him, or her sister, in the eye. She often felt a little embarrassed after she had an orgasm, even with her husband, wondering if perhaps she had been a bit perverse in the way she appeared, the way she had acted. She even felt this way at times when she was alone, after she had masturbated, questioning the fantasies that had aroused her so much, even questioning that she had masturbated.

Joseph slipped the two fingers into his mouth, enjoying the taste of his mother. "Mmmmmm," he sighed, "even better than popcorn butter."

"Joseph!" His mother scolded him. "You shouldn't do things like that. It's very dirty." It was an impulsive reaction of a mother. Boys really shouldn't stick their fingers into their mouths, particularly when they had been in such a place.

Joseph though just smiled. "Hey, I'm not the one who spilled the popcorn."

Deborah looked down at the mess she had made. It was pretty bad, especially with the popcorn so heavily buttered. "Yes, well, I suppose," she quietly agreed.

"Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein suggested, "perhaps your mother needs another round of spanking? Girls who spill their food on the couch should be properly disciplined."

Deborah looked at her son, concern clearly in her eyes. "Must you really spank me again?" she pleaded, sounding ever so much like a daughter speaking to a father.

Dr. Lowenstein was very pleased. This degree of role reversal was precisely what Joseph needed.

Joseph smiled at his mother reassuringly. "No, no, doctor," he said to his aunt but keeping his eyes on his mother's, "I don't think so. I was, of course, partly at fault myself. I'll forgive her."

"Your faults are in fact partly her fault too, you know," Dr. Lowenstein added, acting in her role as the family therapist.

"Yes, well, I will forgive her for that as well."

Deborah smiled at her son. She never felt more appreciative of him. He was really a very, very good boy. She fell back into the couch, raised her skirt, and spread open her legs. "I want you to fuck me, Joseph," she said quietly. "Would you do that for your mother?"

Joseph stared at his mother's shaved cunt, now glistening with its heavy coating of moisture. He glanced over at his aunt, their therapist.

Dr. Lowenstein smiled and nodded approvingly.

Joseph got off the couch, popcorn spilling onto the floor. His eyes were fixed on his mother's cunt as he undid his belt, button, and zipper.

Deborah could see where her son was staring and she reached down. Using both fingers she spread open the lips of her cunt, letting him see precisely where he was to place his cock.

Joseph ripped down his pants and boxers and kicked them aside.

Deborah's eyes complemented Joseph's, turning their attention to her son's jutting, towering stiff cock. "You really do have a very wonderful cock, Joseph," she softly acknowledged.

"Thank you, mother." Joseph smiled broadly, for this time he could tell that she was being very sincere. He probably never felt more proud of his cock than right now, even better than he had with his aunt. A mother's approval is really very important.

He climbed onto the couch, in between his mother's spread legs. It was just a few days ago that he felt so inadequate as a young man, wondering when he would ever be able to make love with, to have sex with, a girl, and yet now here he was, about to fuck a beautiful woman for the second time in just a few days. Life could be so sweet at times, so amazingly pleasurable and fulfilling.

"Bring your cock to mummy, Joseph," Deborah softly encouraged, spreading her lips a bit wider and raising up her pelvis to greet and embrace him.

He got on his knees between her thighs and leaned forward, bracing himself with one hand on the couch, the other directing his dick to the opening into her cunt. He really did appreciate his mother spreading her cunt for him as he probably would have had some difficulty correctly positioning himself. No boy wants to embarrass himself by having difficulty finding his way into a girl's cunt.

Dr. Lowenstein appreciated it as well, as any clumsiness on his part would probably exacerbate his feelings of insecurity and infantilization. She was proud of her sister, as she could see that Deborah was demonstrating true mothering in helping her son grow and develop as a young man.

As soon as the head of Joseph's cock was lodged within his mother's cunt he gasped at the intense delight he felt. Lotion on the hand is really, really nice; lotion (or shaving gel) in the hand of another person is even better; but nothing really compares with this. Every sensitive tingling nerve on his crown was being so tightly embraced by warm, wet flesh. Nobody could design a device to provide better stimulation, more pleasure, than a woman's cunt. He thrust his pelvis forward and drove his cock deep down within his mother's tight, clinging, squeezing cunt.

"Joseph," his mother softly gasped at the feel of his cock plunging down inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and butt and helped to pull him deeper and deeper inside. She knew now she would so miss her sister's departure at the end of the week, as that would mean that this therapy would then end. That will be difficult, as she had been so long without a man fucking her, making love to her. It would be so hard to give it up again. She wrapped her arms around Joseph, squeezing him against her breasts as she humped and grinded her cunt against his cock.

Joseph thrust and humped as well, fucking his mother with a furious frenzy, feeling his balls slapping against her as he drove his cock far down into her depths, squeezing past her tight squishy flesh and then feeling her cunt clenching his dick so tightly as he pulled back, as if she fought to keep him out and then fought just as hard to keep him in.

He could feel his balls churning. He knew he would not last long. It had been quite a day of sustained and frustrated arousal. But he also knew that he didn't really have to worry about performing, about making sure his mother would cum as well, as he had already taken care of that.

"Oh Joseph," his mother gasped, "Your cock feels so, so good in mummy. Such a wonderful, wonderful cock."

Joseph used his free hand to grasp hold of his mother's breast, squeezing it hard.

"Oh yes, please," she moaned, closing her eyes as she basked in the bliss of her fuck. "Squeeze your mother's boob. She likes that so much."

Joseph brought his face down to her breast, and while still thrusting his cock in and out of her gripping, slippery cunt, he planted his lips on her stiffened nipple poking through her sheer blouse. He gently bit it with his teeth.

"Joey," she moaned, scratching her fingernails along her son's back, thrusting her cunt even harder against his cock.

She opened her eyes to see his looking up at hers, her nipple trapped within his teeth, her eyes misty and glazed with lust as she said, "Your cock is so fucking big, Joseph." She paused as she felt another deep thrust within her and then added, "So fucking big. She gasped, "It's even bigger than your father's."

And with that remark, that fact, Joseph felt his orgasm surge than crest over his body, his dick twitching and squirting thick creamy loads of cum deep inside his mother's cunt.

Deborah could feel her son's orgasm far down within her and she smiled with pleasure and pride. "Oh yes, honey," she said, affectionately caressing his face, "give mummy all of that thick, creamy load. You just let it squirt and squirt deep inside your mother's cunt."

And Joseph obliged his mother, pressing his cock as far up inside as it could possibly go, and gave himself over to his climax, gushing glob after glob of hot, thick gism far up inside his mother's quivering cunt.

"Mmmmm," Deborah sighed with satisfaction as she felt her son release his gism. It just felt so right, so wonderful. Her son was indeed becoming a man, and she felt so good, as a mother, to have helped bring him there. As her son continued to lurch and twitch against her, his cock behaving likewise within her, filling her cunt with his cum, some even now leaking out onto the couch, Deborah turned her face to her sister, smiled blissfully and said, "Thank you, Susan. Thank you very much."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I hope you enjoyed it! If so, then please do take the time to cast a vote. This is always well appreciated as it is very encouraging and reinforcing. If you have any suggestions for follow-up, I would be quite happy to hear them.