The Lessons Ch. 16

This is chapter 16 of a series. If you like this story, I encourage you to read earlier chapters as they can help with the understanding of characters and context. In addition, please note that this chapter concerns themes of incest (among persons of adult age). If you find this to be offensive, then you should avoid it. In any case, please do provide feedback. There are a number of possible sequels to my stories, and it is best to go off in the right direction than to try to retrace my steps. I would be happy to hear your suggestions for how to improve it or additional stories you would like to be developed.

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Ron was feeling very guilty. After Miss Harding had masturbated him (see Chapter 9) he got his revenge by having sex with her while she was caught in the pillory (see Chapter 14). But, that actually wasn't what was making him feel guilty as Miss Harding had been a willing partner, albeit a captive one. Even though she was in the pillory it was evident that she was enjoying herself.

What made him feel guilty were the thoughts he was having about his mother. He had been explicit about this in Miss Harding's class (see Chapter 9), and while he was subsequently having sex with Miss Harding from behind his mind often drifted to his mother. He couldn't help wondering what it would be like if it was her whom he was mounting from behind. How pleasurable it would be to see his own mother's bottom sticking up in the air. These were not good thoughts. He shouldn't be thinking of such things.

It was understandable for someone else to have such thoughts about his mother. Debra Theale was strikingly pretty. She was five feet three inches, with 34B, 24, and 34 inch measurements. She had in fact been a beauty queen in high school. That was quite a number of years ago but she still had her wholesome, graceful attractiveness. Ron considered her to be a spitting image of Donna Reed (Mary Bailey) in "It's a Wonderful Life." As a boy growing up, when they watched the movie during the holiday season, he would yell, "Mom's on TV! Mom's on TV!" She would blush, wave her hand in dismissal, and say, "You stop that, I don't look a bit like her," but Ron and her father, Brent, knew she liked it a lot. She enjoyed the flattery. She liked to feel pretty. It was certainly no coincidence that reruns of The Donna Reed show was a family favorite. Her husband, Brent, even bought a video copy of the series as a birthday present.

She had Donna Reed's medium length wavy hair that fell nicely over her shoulders, as well as her perky nose, smooth skin, and pretty flashing eyes. There was an evocative appeal about her. She had the sweetheart, girl-next-door appearance, but like Mary Bailey, she knew how to make her man happy. Mary Bailey was a virtuous woman, but she did in fact have quite a few children with George. As Debra's friends would say, Debra was a woman who would melt her man's heart as she baked his biscuits (when she was young she did win the state fair blue ribbon for her biscuits).

Sadly though her husband, Brent, died quite a number of years ago, leaving her alone to raise their son, whom she loved dearly. He was her little man, and she devoted considerable time and attention to his care.

The fact that her husband was no longer with them though might be part of the reason for Ron's fantasies. She would at times refer to him as the man of the house, even her man, her protector. As they were the only two members of the household, she would also become neglectful of the fact that Ron was a growing young man. She would iron her skirts or blouses in her undies (although always having a slip over her panties), she wouldn't entirely close her bedroom door as she changed, and one time he even walked in on her when she was taking a bath. She had screamed in embarrassment, quickly placing her hands across her breasts, which, for the brief time he had seen them, were still quite firm. Ron blushed, apologized profusely, and quickly left the room. However, he went to his bedroom, locked the door, and masturbated to the memory of his naked mother, lying in the bath. He imagined that her reaction had been entirely different, that after the initial shock she had invited him to stay. She even asked him to wash her back, and then suggested that he join her. After all, it was time for his own bath and she had always bathed him when he was a little boy. When he undressed he tried to hide his erection but she told him not to worry, as young men his age often get erections. She even offered to clean it, as she had done so many years before. She first poured bath oil all over it, and then began to stroke and massage his stiff member to be sure that it was good and clean. Ron then spurted his cum all over her hands, actually his own hand, the ejaculation bringing him back to the reality that he was lying in his own bed.

He had lots of these fantasies. He particularly enjoyed watching her iron in her undies. He would pretend to be reading, although all the time watching her breasts jiggle beneath her slip or at times, even better, her bra. There was one time in which he actually masturbated through his pants, hiding his erection with a textbook.

He decided to talk to his mother about it one evening after dinner. She had always been an easy person to talk to. She was warm, considerate, compassionate, just like a mother should be. She would understand. She would help him.

She was sitting on the couch knitting him a sweater when he approached. She was wearing a rose silk blouse, a pink wool skirt, and silky nylons. She looked lovely. "Mother?"

"Yes, Ronnie, what is it sweetie?" She put down her knitting. She always gave him her full attention when he wanted to talk about something, and she could tell right away that something important was on his mind.

"Um, can I talk to you about something?"

"Well sure, dear, here, sit down right next to me." She smiled at him tenderly. She had the loveliest smile. He thought that she must have been quite the high school beauty queen. He sat down next to her, although keeping a bit of distance in between.

"This is kinda difficult."

"Oh, honey." She slid over so that she would be right next to him. She picked up one of his hands and brought it to her lap, holding it warmly with both of her hands. "Now don't you ever feel hesitant to tell me something. I'm your mother. I will understand."

Ron caught a whiff of her rose perfume. He always liked her scent, and it was wonderful how she kept up her physical attractiveness despite his father's absence from her life. Her beauty had always been one of her great prides, and she obviously continued to pay considerable attention to it, despite the fact that she had never started dating again. Ron noticed that she would at times spend an hour in the morning getting on her make up, doing her hair, and selecting an outfit. He felt sorry for her that there wasn't anybody still letting her know how pretty she was. "I have something to tell you and it's kind of, well, embarrassing."

She slid even closer so that their legs were touching. Keeping his hand on her lap with her right hand, she moved her left hand over to place it on his thigh. She said softly, "Please dear, you mustn't keep any secrets from me."

He looked down at her hand, his own beginning to perspire in her lap. "I've started having sexual relationships, mother."

Mrs. Theale almost laughed. How cute. She smiled and said sweetly, "Peanut," that was her pet name for him, "That's wonderful. You're old enough now to have sex. You're 18, a young man. Don't feel ashamed about that. My goodness, I didn't even wait that long myself when I was a girl." She flushed a bit saying that. It was true and it might help him to hear it, but it was a little embarrassing to admit to it. She removed her hand from his thigh and stroked his hair. "Is it that sweet girl, Tammie. She is such a cutie pie."

"I don't want to say who, mother." There was no way he was going to tell her that it was Miss Harding, his biology teacher. "That's not really it."

"What is it then?" She rested her hand gently on his shoulder.

"It's that, well, mother, it's just that, well, it's, man, I don't think I can really talk about this."

"Baby, please, tell your mother. You can tell your mummy anything, you must know that. Now, please, take a deep breathe and tell me everything."

"Um, well, ok, but this is awfully hard." He hesitated again, but decided to just get it out. "When I do it, it's, it's, um, you I keep thinking about."

Mrs. Theale's hand notably stiffened on his shoulder. There was an awkward silence. However, she quickly recovered. This really wasn't so bad. In fact, wasn't it something in fact common? "Ronnie, dear, that is nothing to be ashamed about. I remember when I was in college reading about edible conflicts."

"Mother, I think you mean Oedipal conflicts."

"That's what I said, dear, now don't interrupt your mother. As I was saying, I remember reading that such feelings of a young man for his mother are only natural. You will grow out of it."

"I think I'm pretty grown already and I still have them."

"Peanut, I'm sure you will be fine, now lets stop this nonsense." Mrs. Theale was still feeling a bit uncomfortable with the nature of this conversation. She withdrew her hand from his shoulder, moved his hand back onto his own lap, and straightened her skirt.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you about it."

"Now dear, don't say that. You can always talk to me about things. You know that." Actually, she knew that wasn't entirely true. She realized that she had never sat down and spoken to him about sex and she did feel bad about that. She had really been hoping that his father would take care of it but with his departure from their lives the responsibility had fallen to her and she had dropped the ball. She had been reluctant because it had always been difficult for her to openly talk about such things, sexual things, and it was particularly awkward to speak about such matters to her handsome son. She preferred to continue to think of him as a young boy, not yet mature to be interested in these sort of things. But, he was now well past that point. Perhaps she was in fact partly to blame for this problem.

"Ronnie, it was right that you came to me about this, it's just that I don't know what to say." She wished that she could say or do something, but she could feel herself getting more and more nervous as she thought of speaking to Ronnie about "the birds and the bees." She thought, 'He must know about all of that. My goodness, he's having sexual activities.' She started to blush thinking about her son having sex.

"Well, mother, I do have one idea."

She quickly turned to him. "Honey, what is it?" She was thrilled that he had an idea. Anything to rescue her from this awkwardness; well, anything short of having to talk to him about sex.

"I was thinking, mother, that if you acted, once again, as my mother, that I would start thinking of you less as a woman and more as my mother. These last few years I really have been just noticing you as a woman, an attractive woman, even my woman, and I have these fantasies, like."

She cut him off. "I don't think I need any of the specifics, honey." My goodness, she certainly did not want to hear the dirty details. "And, honey, how have I not been acting as your mother? You still live here at home, I still cook your meals, well most of them when you are not out flitting around with your friends, and I wash and iron your clothes, and even still darn your socks. I'm knitting a sweater for you right now. What more of a mother can I be?"

He had to admit that he hadn't thought about all of that. He had been taking a lot of this for granted. But, he did have one particular task in mind. "You are right about all that, but, still, these are all things you do for me, things a woman often does for her husband as well. I don't want to think of you that way. I want to think of you as being my mom."

"I still don't understand, dear, help me understand what you want me to do. I will try to be helpful." She did want to make up for her shirking of her "birds and bees" responsibility. She returned her hand to his thigh.

"Well, I got this idea from one of our new professors, Mr. Peters."

"You talked to one of your professors about this?" She wasn't too sure how she felt about that.

"No, no, my idea just comes from some of his methods of teaching." His voice lowered, almost to a whisper, and he looked down at his feat, not able to look her in the eyes. "I was thinking that it would help if you were to punish me, you know, like you did when I was little."

"Punish you?" She was quite surprised. She was assuming that he was simply going to ask her to give him a stern lecture or perhaps dress more modestly, or something like that.

"If I could again think of you as my mother, as the person who disciplines me, as your child, I would stop having these thoughts. Mr. Peters is using spanking quite a bit in his classes to discipline students and it is apparently working quite well."

"Spanking?! Really? Aren't you a bit old for that?"

"But that's the point. If you treated me as if I wasn't an adult, if you treated me like you used to treat me when I was a little boy, then I wouldn't be thinking of you as a woman. I would think of you as my mom. And, besides, what better way to get me to stop having these fantasies than to punish me for them. If you punish me then I will stop having these thoughts."

Mrs. Theale gave his suggestion some thought. It did make sense. She had become increasingly permissive as he grew older, not feeling that she had sufficient authority over him. When he reached adolescence she stopped spanking him in part because she actually feared that she could not control him, physically. If he thought that this would help, she should be willing to at least try.

"Alright, honey, if you think it will help. How should we do this?"

"Just like we used to do." He got up to stand next to her. "Over your lap."

Mrs. Theale could feel the pace of her heart quicken. She nervously swallowed. "Alright, then, ok, um, why don't you lie here, across my lap." She leaned back on the couch to give him room and patted her skirt to make him a nice spot for him to lie down.

"But, you know, mother, that I should have my pants down. These jeans are much too thick. I won't feel anything through them." He began to unbuckle his belt.

"Yes, alright." Ronnie's mother agreed, but reluctantly. Spanking him through his jeans would probably hurt her hand more than his butt. But, she modestly looked away as he pulled down his pants. This was becoming very awkward for her.

What Ron had not told his mother was that one of his fantasies was for her to spank him. As they were talking about it he could feel himself swelling and growing in his pants. He was glad to pull them down in part because his erection was becoming very uncomfortable in his jockey shorts and tight jeans, but also because he would now be able to show his mother his hard, stiff cock. "I'm ready, mom," he announced.

She turned to help him lie across her lap and yelped in shock at the sight of his erection. "My goodness Ronnie!" She brought a hand to her mouth in surprise and dismay. Her son was displaying his erect manhood just inches from her eyes! She had not seen one herself for years. That was shocking enough, but this one was Ronnie's. Her son's! She was thoroughly flustered. "Oh my, Ronnie, please, you shouldn't let me see that. Your penis, it's, my dear." She didn't know what more to say.

"Yes, I know. I am so sorry, mother. You see, that's my problem. Just the thought of taking my pants down in front of you has made me hard."

"Ronnie, yes, I see that." Well, she now had a better understanding of the problem, a rather vivid, concrete understanding to be sure. She understood perhaps better than she wanted to. She wondered if her face was beet red. It sure felt that way. But, this was her son. She had to maintain her composure. "Alright, honey, now come here across my lap." She reached for his arm to help him get into position, keeping her eyes averted. Once he was on her lap, it would be better.

Ron stepped out of his jeans and briefs, and got into position across her lap. However, when he lied down he could tell there was a serious problem. He recoiled as soon as he made contact. "Mother, your skirt, I don't think it will work." Her pink wool skirt was very uncomfortable when in direct contact with the skin. She herself wore beneath it a silk slip, as she also found the wool to be rather itchy. "It's going to chafe and scratch, particular when my skin is now so tight and sensitive."

He was right about that. His dick would be rubbed sore by the harsh, scratchy wool, particularly the sensitive underside.

"Would you mind, please, mother, if you could just pull the skirt up?. It doesn't have to be all the way, just enough so that it is out of the way of my, you know, my thing."

Mrs. Theale wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you this. It's embarrassing enough that I have an erection like this, and you even saw it and everything, but I won't ask for anything else, I promise."

She could tell how embarrassing this was for him. She felt herself mortified at the sight of his stiff penis. She hadn't thought about the fact that it would be even worse for him. Perhaps the sooner they got this over with the better. "That's all right dear, I understand. It's not your fault. I should have thought about this myself. Lift your bottom up a bit higher while I adjust my skirt."

Adjusting her skit was a bit awkward. His bottom rose up closer to her face, but she needed the room to allow herself to lift her own bottom up from the couch so that she could pull up her skirt. He had suggested that she just pull it out of the way but she knew that it would slide back underneath as soon as the spanking started. She pulled the skirt and slip entirely clear of her bottom.

It felt a little funny to be sitting on the couch in her panty hose, her skirt pulled up. But she really shouldn't feel embarrassed. It was important for a mother not to feel embarrassed about such things. She had many times been in front of Ronnie wearing just a slip and bra, and Ronnie was now far more exposed than she.

However, as soon as he lied back down her eyes opened wide. She could now easily feel his stiff cock. It was pressed against her left thigh. She could even feel his soft testicles lodged in between her thighs. This did not feel right at all. Her own son's erect penis pressed against her panty hose. Although, it was curiously stimulating. She could feel a little flutter in her heart, but that also made her feel a bit guilty.

Ron liked it a lot. Not only was the scratchiness of the wool gone, it was replaced with the smoothness of her silk nylons. He was essentially pressing his naked stiff cock against the soft, warm thigh of his mother, separated by, actually enhanced by, the feel of the smooth and silky nylon. He could easily get himself off by just rubbing against her. This was a dream becoming true.

Mrs. Theale looked down at the exposed bottom of her son. In some respects his bottom had not changed. It was still quite white, soft, and tender. She remembered spanking him quite a number of times when he was a child. She had never tried to spank him severely. She had tried to make it more like a tender lesson, a loving reminder to be a good boy. However, in other respects he had changed quite a bit. His bottom was now quite bigger, even muscular. It was now the butt of a man, a naked man's butt resting on her lap, his erection pressed against her thigh. It had been so long since she had felt a man's erection. The thought of grasping his erection flashed into her mind but as quickly she pushed it right out. 'What a terrible thought,' she said to herself. She asked him, "Are you ready, honey?"