The door sighed shut behind Dr. Moretti and Nurse Tanya, sealing my mother and me in a world of humming, sterile silence. The air was still thick with the ghost of their shock and the potent, musky scent of my own arousal. My cock remained a rigid, throbbing pillar of flesh, standing at attention as if awaiting its next orders. Cathy turned to me. The flustered awe was gone from her expression, replaced by a serene, loving determination. Her eyes, still dark with a heat she wasn't trying to hide, met mine.
"It's just us now, baby," she said, her voice a soft, soothing balm. "I'll take care of everything. I promise... There's nothing to be nervous about."
She might have thought I was nervous. My stillness, my intense focus, could have been mistaken for anxiety. But it wasn't. It was the absolute, razor-sharp control of a predator moments before the pounce. It was the sheer lust, humming anticipation of a fantasy I'd never once dared to entertain, but always imagined it would, now, it was unfolding in breathtaking detail in front of me.
"Just lie back for me, sweetie," she cooed, her hands gently pressing on my shoulders until I reclined against the raised back of the medical bed. "That's it. Just relax. Let mommy do all the work. You just enjoy it…"
She moved to the sink in the corner, and the sound of running water filled the room. I watched her, my gaze tracing the curve of her spine, the sway of her hips beneath her tight jeans. She washed her hands with a meticulous, almost ritualistic care, scrubbing each finger, each palm. She was preparing. This was a duty, and she would perform it with reverence.
Drying her hands on a paper towel, she pulled a wheeled stool over to the bed. It put her at the perfect height. She sat down, her knees brushing against the outside of my thighs, and found herself positioned directly in front of my groin, her face level with my monstrous erection.
The sight was almost surreal. My beautiful mother, her expression a mix of maternal love and blatant carnal hunger, seated between my spread legs, her full attention devoted to the thick, veined length of my cock.
"Just let me take care of you," she whispered again, her breath a warm caress against the hypersensitive skin of my shaft.
Then her bare hand, now clean and warm, finally made contact.
Her fingers wrapped around my girth. It was a firm, confident grip, her skin soft and slightly cool from the water. The moment she touched me, a jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure shot straight up my spine. A low groan escaped my lips, and my hips gave an involuntary, tiny thrust into her hand.
She smiled, a beautiful, wicked thing. "That's it, baby. Just like that. Feel good?"
"Yes," I breathed, the word coming out as a husky rasp.
"Thrust, Thrust! Thrust… Thrust~". Her hand began to move. It wasn't a tentative, exploratory touch. It was the work of a master.
Her technique was flawless, a perfect blend of firm pressure and silken friction. Her palm glided over the broad head, smearing the pre-cum that was already leaking copiously, using it as a natural lubricant. Her fingers found the prominent veins tracing my length and followed them, applying delicious pressure. She stroked me with a slow, steady rhythm that was maddeningly perfect.
"Oh, my beautiful boy," she murmured, her eyes glued to her work, watching her hand glide up and down my impressive length.
"Look at you… So big… So perfect… Mommy's never seen a man so beautiful." She was worshipping me, and every word, every stroke, fed an ego I hadn't known was so starved.
I was enjoying it like a man possessed. My head fell back against the bed, my eyes closing for a moment, lost in the sensation. Her hand moved faster, the pace increasing. I heard a soft, rhythmic rustling and opened my eyes to see her body moving with the effort, her magnificent breasts swaying enticingly beneath her shirt with every stroke.
She saw my gaze locked on her chest. A slow, seductive smile spread across her face. Without breaking her rhythm, her free hand came up and began to unbutton her blouse, one button at a time. She didn't rush. She let me watch, let the anticipation build. Finally, she shrugged the garment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor behind her. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts spilled free, full and heavy, with large, dark pink areolas and nipples that were already hardened into tight, eager buds. God, they were magnificent, the breasts of a classic blonde goddess, and they were now on display just for me.
"Do you like them, baby?" she asked, her voice thick with her own arousal. "You always loved mommy's milkers when you were little…" Her hand never stopped its expert, pleasurable motion on my cock.
"Mom," I said, my voice rough with need, my control starting to fray at the edges. "Suck it."
Her eyes flashed with dark excitement. "Anything for my baby... Schlup… Schlup…".
She didn't hesitate. She leaned forward, her lips parting, and took the broad, leaking head of my cock into her mouth.
"Schlup. Schlup...Slllrrppp~ mmhmm~".
The sensation was instantaneous and utterly blinding. Her mouth was hot, wet, and impossibly soft. Her tongue swirled around the crown, lapping at the slit, tasting me.
"Hmmm...Fuck~".
A deep, guttural groan was torn from my throat. Her lips formed a tight seal, and she began to suck, creating a gentle, vacuum-like pressure that made my toes curl.
"Slurp. Lick, lick… Lick…♥ Suck, suck, suck…Gukk! Ahh~ SSllrrpp!".
She took more of me, her mouth stretching to accommodate my girth. I could see her cheeks hollowing with the effort, her lips deformed around the thick shaft.
"Hmm~ Mmmhmmm! Suck!".
She bobbed her head, establishing a rhythm, her hand working in tandem with her mouth, stroking what she couldn't yet take. The sounds were obscene and glorious: wet, sucking noises, her soft moans, and my own ragged breathing.
"Schlup. Schlluuup. Schlup. Sllurp… Slluurrrppp…"
I looked down my body at the incredible sight. My mother, on her knees, her beautiful face buried in my crotch, her bare breasts swaying beneath her. I saw a dark, wet patch had formed on the front of her jeans, right over her mound. The evidence of her own enjoyment only drove me higher, faster.
The pressure built in my balls, a familiar, coiling tension. "Mom… I'm close…" I warned, my voice strained.
"Schlup. Schlluuup. Sllurp. Slluurrrppp! GAWK!! GGUHH! SSLLRRRPPP!!~.".
She didn't pull away. She just looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine, and she sucked harder, her message clear. That was all it took. The orgasm erupted from me with the force of a volcanic explosion.
"Fuck!" I roared.
"Spurt! Spurt… SSpppurrrtt!". My hands, moving on their own primal instinct, shot down and grabbed the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her hair. I didn't push her; I held her firmly in place as my hips bucked upwards, driving my entire length deep into her mouth, past her gag reflex, until the tip nudged the entrance of her throat. Her face was scrunched against my pelvis, her nose buried in my pubic hair.
"Slllrrppp! Cough! Gulp! Gulp! Slllrrppp~". She made a muffled, gurgling sound but didn't struggle.
I held her there, impaled on my cock, as I emptied myself. Thick, powerful ropes of cum shot directly down her throat. I felt each pulse, each convulsive jet of my release, and I felt her swallow desperately around me, taking every drop. I held her until the last, shuddering spasm had left my body.
"Mmph, slurp, mm, mmm….".
Slowly, I released my grip on her head. She pulled back, gasping for air, a string of saliva and my cum connecting her swollen lips to my now-sensitive tip. Her cheeks were puffed out, still holding the last of my load. Her eyes were watery, but they shone with triumph and a deep, sated pleasure.
She reached for the sterile collection cup on the tray beside her. With practiced ease, she spat the contents of her mouth into it, a thick, pearlescent pool of my seed now officially captured for the government. She set the cup down and looked at me, a messy, beautiful vision with my cum smeared on her chin and glistening on her breasts.
"Hmmm~ Gulp~ That was so enjoyable, baby," she panted, a blissful smile on her face. "And such a good job... But you know we have to give this to the bank, right?".
Her face was flushed a beautiful, deep crimson, my cum glistening on her chin and smeared across the swell of her bare breasts. She looked like a fertility goddess who had just received her due worship. I let out a breathy laugh, the last aftershocks of my climax still tingling through my nerves.
"I couldn't hold it, Mom,". I admitted. "You were just that good..."
The pleasure that lit up her face at my words was brighter than any city hologram. It was a pure, radiant joy that made her look years younger. But it was followed by a slight, maternal frown. "
I'm so happy to hear that, sweetie... Truly, but… this," she said, gesturing to the single cup with its modest, though thick, content, "isn't going to be enough for a passable donation. They need a specific volume, and it has to be… uncontaminated."
Even as she said it, even as a flicker of worry crossed her face, my body was responding. The sight of her, disheveled and marked by me, the feel of her expert mouth still lingering on my skin, the intoxicating permission in the air—it was all a potent aphrodisiac. My cock, which had begun to soften in the aftermath of its explosive release, twitched against my stomach. Then, defying all biological norms, it began to stir again. The thick, heavy flesh plumped, swelling with a renewed, insistent hunger. The veins refilled, the shaft hardened, and within moments, it was once again standing at its full, angry ten-inch glory, throbbing with a demand for more.
Cathy's eyes widened, her practical concerns vanishing as she watched the miraculous resurrection. A slow, deeply impressed smile spread across her lips. "My goodness… already? You are… incredible, Sael." The awe in her voice was a drug.
"We can do it again," I said, my tone leaving no room for doubt. It was a statement of fact.
Her smile turned wicked, eager. "Yes. We certainly can." She moved to take her position on the stool again, ready to resume her devoted service.
But I had a different hunger now. The visual feast of her bare breasts, those heavy, milky-white orbs with their dark, taut nipples, had been teasing me throughout. A deep, primal urge took hold.
"Wait, mom," I said, my voice a low command. She paused, looking up at me questioningly.
"I want to taste you," I stated, my gaze locked on her chest.
"I want to suck on your breasts, Mom," A wave of pure, unadulterated delight washed over her features.
"Oh, baby… you always did love mommy's breasts when you were little." The statement was laden with a new, erotic meaning now. She didn't return to the stool. Instead, she stood up and moved closer to the side of the bed, leaning over me. She cupped one heavy breast in her hand, offering the stiff, pebbled nipple to my mouth.
"Here you go, my love. Drink your fill.". I didn't need a second invitation. I turned my head and took the offered nipple into my mouth. It was a perfect fit. I suckled her, not like a child, but like a man starved for the taste of a woman.
"Mmph!... Chuuu~ Lick! Mmmm!". I lavished her with my tongue, circling the areola, then drawing the entire stiff bud deep into my mouth, sucking hard. Cathy gasped, her body jolting at the sensation.
"Oh! Sael! Yes… just like that…" Her free hand found my cock again, her fingers wrapping around its girth, beginning to stroke me in time with the pulls of my mouth.
"Suck! Suck! Sllrrpp! Mmhmm~ Bite!". I lost myself in the sensation. The soft, pillowy weight of her breast against my face, the unique, sweet-salty taste of her skin, the way her nipple hardened even further against my tongue. My own ministrations grew more fervent. I bit down gently on the rigid nub, tugging on it with my teeth.
"Ahhnn! Baby, not too hard!" she moaned, but it was a moan of pleasure, not protest. "Don't bite your mommy's nipple too hard…". But the slight pain seemed to excite her further. I pinched her other nipple between my thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging on it roughly, matching the rhythm of my mouth on its twin.
She was moaning freely now, her head thrown back, her eyes closed in ecstasy. "Oh, my boy… my good, strong boy…".
My hand, the one not busy torturing her nipple, slid down her stomach. My fingers dipped below the waistband of her tight jeans. She didn't flinch. She didn't say no. She just pressed her hips forward into my touch, a silent, desperate invitation.
I pushed my hand deeper. The denim was tight, but I managed to slide my fingers past it, into the damp heat within. I found her panties—soaked through. I pushed the thin, wet fabric aside and my fingers delved into the heart of her.
"SShhliiikk! Sloshh~ You're wet, Mom," I growled against her breast, my voice muffled by her flesh.
"Mmmm~ Because of you, baby," she panted, her hips beginning to grind against my hand. "All because of you…."
She was drenched. Slick, hot, and incredibly tight. I began to finger her, thrusting two fingers in and out of her clutching warmth. The room, once a sterile medical space, was now filled with a symphony of raw sex.
"Slurp. Lick, lick… Lick…♥ Suck, suck… SShhliiikk! Schhliik! Pap! Pap!". The wet, sucking sounds of my mouth on her breast. The slick, rhythmic noise of my fingers pistoning in and out of her dripping cunt. Her high, keening moans. The ragged sound of our breathing.
"There! Right there, baby! Oh, God!". I curled my fingers inside her, searching, and found a rough, textured spot that made her cry out and buck wildly against my hand.
I focused my attention there, finger-fucking her hard and deep while I suckled and bit at her nipples. Her strokes on my cock became frantic, uneven. Her legs began to tremble.
"I'm… I'm gonna cum, Sael!" she screamed, her body bowing with the intensity of it.
"Ngh♥ Ughh♥ Nghhhh♥ Hiiik♥ Ahhnnn!!". She climaxed with a raw, guttural cry that was nothing like the soft, maternal woman from minutes before. It was the sound of a woman being utterly ravished. Her inner muscles clamped down on my fingers like a vise, rhythmically milking them.
"Splurt♥ Splurt splurt splurt♥ Splurt splurt splurt♥". A gush of her hot fluids soaked my hand, her thighs, and dripped onto the floor below. She rode out the orgasm standing up, her body supported by my mouth on her breast and my hand buried deep inside her.
"Hah~ hah~ hah~…". When her tremors finally subsided, she was panting, utterly spent. But her hand, somehow, never stopped its steady, skilled motion on my cock. She knew the job wasn't finished.
This time, the build was slower, deeper. The room smelled of our mingled sweat and sex. My eyes were locked on hers as she stroked me, her expression one of dazed, worshipful love. When the peak came, it was a powerful, rolling wave of pleasure. I grunted, my body tensing, and shot my load not into her mouth, but into the waiting, sterile collection cup she had ready. Thick, pearlescent ropes spurted from me, filling the container. This was a clean, viable sample. The product of a much more thorough, and mutually satisfying, 'education'.