Twenty Cups Ch. 01

"Take your time, baby," she murmured.

I pulled off my tee shirt and laid on the bed. There were all kinds of things I needed to keep track of: tablet, lube, container.

Mom had to have been watching me fumble around with everything.

I felt her get up. She walked over to me and said, "Put this here—for now. This should go here until you need it. Flip the lid. Okay. Let me take the lid off this one and just keep it with me."

The tablet was between my left arm and my hip. The lube was beside my right hand, lid open, and Mom had unscrewed the lid of the sample container, kept the lid, and put the open jar on my left side.

Hovering over me, she said, "Now, just relax, find something that will excite you. Let it happen, and then you'll be fine. I'm going back to my chair. I'm no longer here."

I unlocked the tablet, opened youtube, and signed in. I typed in "Keyra Constantina." Several old, old videos appeared—none of them in HD, but they were far and away my favorites. Keyra was a young, skinny woman. It was rare to see her face or her hair. She had an absolutely incredible butt. Her videos all showed her, from her belly to her knees, slowly undressing, and then dancing and gyrating. I turned down the volume, and then tapped on my third favorite one.

Keyra did her thing, but I could not get away from the idea that Mom was in there with me, watching. Every few seconds, she was probably looking at my boxers, waiting for a bulge to begin appearing.

I sighed and clicked on my second favorite one. Keyra was in a school girl uniform.

It ended. Strike two.

"Not working. Mom, can you please..."

"Baby, I'm not leaving, so forget it. Have you thought of maybe putting some lubricant on it first? Masturbate yourself to get an erection?"

"I...," I stammered.

I laid the tablet on my chest, and—a little too aggressively—grabbed the vaseline, forgetting in the moment that the lid was open. My fingers buried in the stuff.

"Darn it," I said, risking a small curse in front of Mom. I lifted the vaseline and pulled my fingers out. They emerged, covered in the greasy goup. I reached for the lubricant with my other hand, inadvertently knocking the sperm container off the bed. When I tried to reflexively grab for the semen jar as it fell, the tablet slid off my chest. Of course, I missed the sample cup—it fell to the floor—and when I brought my left hand back, it touched my right hand. Both were covered in lubricant.

I was about to curse again when Mom said, "Freeze. Don't move. I've got this."

She came over and took the tablet. She picked up the specimen jar and set it beside me again. She grabbed the vaseline and closed the lid.

"Use what you've got there on your fingers."

I stared at her, holding my greasy hands up and away from me like a surgeon.

Mom grabbed the waistband of my boxers. She looked at me and said, "Lift your hips, so we don't get any vaseline on your underwear."

I did, and Mom exposed me completely. She pulled the boxers down my legs and off my feet, laying them neatly beside me. I had to have flushed completely red.

She turned away, grabbed my towel off the hanger on the back of my closet door and returned. "Let me wipe off your left hand."

I buried it in the towel, and Mom worked it between and around each of my fingers.

"Let me see, " she said.

I held it up for her.

She looked and shook her head. "Still too greasy. I'll hold the tablet for you."

"I'll just go wash..."

I stopped because of the look she was giving me. When she saw that I was done talking, she said, "Everything that has happened here convinces me even more that I need to stay. Now, use what's on your right hand."

She watched me wipe the vaseline from my fingers onto my penis. She was kneeling beside me, looking at my groin. She watched my fingers move the lubricant around. Her face showed no emotion, whatsoever. I coated all around the shaft. Then, I grabbed it and let my penis slide through my hand, lubricating my palm and fingers.

She turned back to me. "I'll hold the sample container when you're ready. I don't want it slipping through your fingers."

I nodded, feeling the pads of my hands and fingers glide back and forth on my penis.

"Ready for your video?"

I nodded. And she lifted the tablet up. "It logged you off, hang on."

I could smell her—fresh strawberries, it seemed like. Her body was just inches from mine.

"Were you on youtube?"

"Yes."

"There's no pornography on youtube."

"I know."

"That's what you want? The girl showing her bottom?"

"Yes."

She finished typing and said, "What's the video called?"

I told her the name.

She typed, still talking to me, very softy. "Girls' bottoms. I thought you young men were all into hardcore pornography. I thought...spell that last name for me?"

I did. I liked her voice and her smell.

She typed it in. "I thought you would be watching oral sex videos. Women screaming. Big breasts bouncing. Semen squirting on faces. I'm surprised. Just dancing. Just a round bottom in sexy panties." She turned the tablet toward me. "This it?"

I gulped, still stroking myself, and muttered, "Don't need it."

She looked down my body towards my penis, and then she gasped and covered her mouth. Immediately, she looked back to me. I saw her lips close, her throat rise and fall. She murmured, "You...you don't want the video?"

I shook my head.

"What...what made you..."

"Your voice."

She set the tablet on the floor. Was she suppressing a little smile? When she faced me again, if it had been there, it was gone. "My voice?" she asked, her voice airy.

"Keep talking."

"Baby, I don't..."

"Helps."

"I have no idea what to say."

"Say what you see."

She looked at my erection. "I see your penis. It is very hard now. Your hand is sliding up and down it, slowly. I see your testicles. They're like golf balls, very round in your scrotum. It's a big penis, long and thick. The tip is fat and purple. It is a handsome penis. You'll make some young lady very happy, baby."

Sensuality filled her voice. I watched her stare at my erection.

"Is that what you want?" she asked.

I nodded, still stroking, and huffed, "The young lady, Mom. More about her."

Mom glanced at me, saw me watching her, and then returned her gaze to my penis. "Your young lady...she'll like to grab it and make it hard with her hands. She'll want to kiss it and put it in her mouth. She'll like how it feels when you ejaculate in her hands...on her breasts...in her vagina...in her mouth."

My lungs pumped air, and my body filled with buzzing energy.

Mom said, "Sometimes she lets you ejaculate in her bottom."

"Now, Mom."

She raced to grab the cup. I pulled my erection down toward my belly, and she held the open end over the tip. I grunted, my stomach gripped and lifted my chest off the bed. Then, I was gasping and filling the cup in bursts. I stroked again, and more squirted out, splattering against the back of the cup and dripping down. I stroked again; semen spilled out of the tip. I let go and sank back into the bed, panting.

"Baby, don't stop now! There's still some left!" She grabbed my penis close to the base and worked her fingers in little waves, rolling them up. Her hand moved up a few inches, and she milked it again. Further up, close to the tip, she made those little waves with her fingers, and two fat drops emerged from the tip and spilled into the cup.

She drew the cup away, wiped her hand on the towel and reached for the lid. Carefully, she screwed it on and set it down.

I laid in bed, panting.

"I need to wash my hands and get back to work. I'll put your semen in the freezer. You go and take a shower, okay?"

"Okay."

"You did well, but you mustn't forget how there's more in there. You have to get all of it, okay? I'm happy to help you this time, but please remember next time to squeeze the rest of it out, baby."

"Okay, Mom."

"Good," she said. She ran her fingers through my hair, smiled, took the container, and left.

***

That night, after Mom returned from work, she brought me into her bedroom to talk.

"I'm going to come home tomorrow to help you again," she declared, "but we have to do things a little differently next time."

"Okay."

"First, you're juggling too much—a tablet, the lubricant, the container, and your penis. It's too much. We've got to cut back on things, make this simple enough for you to do by yourself."

"The lubricant."

"Baby, I don't want you to rub yourself raw."

"I won't."

"Are you sure?"

"Greasy mess."

"Alright. Second, and most importantly, you cannot use my voice as a source for your excitement. You need to use the tablet, but we need to set it up somewhere so you don't need to hold it. I was happy to help you once, but your Mother cannot talk you into a climax every time. It isn't right."

"Wasn't just your voice."

"I'm very flattered, but not again. Tomorrow, I will remain in the chair. If you need help at the very end collecting the sample, I can do that."

"Okay."

***

At breakfast the next morning, we were all assembled in the kitchen for the first time since my initial sperm sample was harvested with the assistance of Mom.

Lia asked Mom how it went.

"It was fine, Lia. We got a good specimen. Now, we just have to get 19 more like that."

"Did you stay in there with him, Mom?" Lia asked. Of course, I was right there at the table beside Lia while she asked about me, but this was par for the course at my home.

"Yes, honey."

Emma muttered, "Ugh, did you have to watch or listen to some nasty porn video?"

Mom answered, "Em, I'm very proud of your brother. He did not need pornography to excite himself. In fact, the video he watched was on youtube, and the young lady dancing was never even completely naked."

I cursed to myself. Here it goes. When I glanced up, Mom was beaming at me.

"It was just a video of a woman dancing?" Lia asked.

"Yes, it was an old video, and it seemed like the girl filmed it herself in her apartment. It was shot from the knees to her belly. She just took off her shirt and her pants and danced. She was wearing panties and a bra."

"What was it called?" Emma asked.

"Her name was Keyra Constantina."

I growled and took a bite of my fructose-free breakfast bar.

Both of my sisters immediately brought out their phones, searching for the video, evidently. They had Internet access on their phones. I got the cheap flip phone hand-me-down from Mom.

Lia announced that she'd found it.

Emma asked, "How'd you spell it? Let me see."

Mom came over and stood behind my sisters' chairs. "Yes, those are the videos, Lia." She looked at Emma's. "Yes, you've found them, too, honey."

"Which ones?" Lia asked.

Mom pointed. Emma set her phone on the table. All three watched the video on Lia's phone. I heard the music and took a drink of water.

"Oh, my gosh, this is old!" Lia exclaimed.

"I bet she's in her fifties now!" Emma added.

"I'm almost fifty!" Mom argued.

Emma shook her head. Lia sighed, "Mom!" They watched.

I kept eating.

"She's skinny," Lia noted.

Emma nodded. "Look at her bottom, though. It's kinda big."

Every now and then, one of them would glance at me during the video. I felt it.

When the video ended, Lia complained, "You never even get to see her face."

Emma said, "Mom, I think your son's an ass man!"

"Emma! Language!"

"Sorry," she said, suppressing a giggle. Lia was holding back laughter, too.

I finished, grabbed my big blanket, and curtly excused myself. They watched me go.

"Grumpy bear," Emma warned. They giggled.

I curled up on the couch and watched tv.

***

Mom came home at 10:00am, same as the day before.

We went upstairs. Mom had the tablet. I had the empty specimen jar.

Inside my room, she said, "Lia might be curious as to how this works. It's not something they spend a great deal of time on at nursing school, and it is true that she is somewhat inexperienced in these matters. I've been considering using this as an opportunity to help her understand."

I stared at her.

"You don't want her in here, do you?"

"No."

"Okay." She locked the door. "You may undress yourself. I'm going to find a place to put this tablet so that you don't have to hold it.

I stripped down naked, watching Mom lean over my bed and move one of my pillows against the wall. I remembered the day before—how she'd drawn up the last few drops with her own hand, how she'd talked about all the places to ejaculate. I watched Mom's bottom; it was big and shapely. She was wearing tight yoga pants today—something I'm not sure I'd ever seen her wear before. I'd never seen her butt so clearly, except maybe when we went swimming.

I felt my penis begin to fill and grow.

"Okay," she said. She turned around and quickly skimmed my naked body with her eyes. Then, she pointed to where my bed abutted the wall. "I've put a pillow there, so you can prop the tablet up on it and lean it against the wall. Will that work, baby?"

I nodded.

"Don't forget the container," she said, pointing behind me to my desk.

I grabbed it and took off the lid.

She nodded toward the corner. "I'll be in the chair. Call for me if you need my help at the end."

I watched her walk over and sit down. My penis was nearly hard. She glanced at it, and then teacher-smiled and nodded at me. I laid in bed, placing the sample container next to my left leg.

I turned on the tablet, found Keyra, and put on my favorite video.

When Keyra pulled off her tight white pants and spun around to show me her butt, I grabbed my hard penis and stroked away. After a few seconds, I heard Mom.

"Baby?"

I stopped, paused the video, and turned to her.

"You're being too rough with your erection. Be more gentle."

"Won't feel it."

She stood up and walked closer. "When you have lubricant, you can be more aggressive—but never too aggressive. Without any lubricant, you must be more gentle or you may damage your skin or even your penis."

I hesitated.

Mom sat on her heels beside me, her head next to mine. She said, "I know the boys all call it 'whacking off' or 'jerking off,' but you mustn't think of it or do it that way. Think of it as giving your penis a relaxing massage. Touch it the way you would touch someone you love, baby. Go ahead, let me see."

I grabbed it.

"No," she explained. "Grasp it firmly, but don't squish it. Let the pads of your fingers...here." She adjusted my grip with her hand. "More like this," she said. Her eyes squinted and she shook her head. "No, wait." She lifted my index finger and adjusted it again. Then she said, "Let go. Just let go of it."

She wrapped her fingers around my penis and looked me in the eyes. "Like this. Do you feel the difference?"

"Yeah."

She let go. "You try it."

I mimicked her grip.

"Now, don't yank, but massage."

I stroked myself, but more slowly.

She stopped my hand with hers. "It's not about just going slower, baby. Look." She pulled my hand away, and grasped my penis again. She tugged the skin up the shaft, squeezing firmly as she went up, and then releasing and almost petting it on the way down. She did this several times. I gasped.

She stopped and let go, clearing her throat. "Now, you do it."

I grabbed it as she'd taught me, and I did my best to reproduce the motion she'd shown me. She watched.

"Does it feel better?"

I shrugged.

"You seemed to like it when I did it. Are you not doing it right?"

"I don't know."

She rose to her feet beside me. "Let's finish this together, then." She pulled my leg to the side of the bed and began to climb in between my knees. I spread my legs for her, and she sat on her heels. She pushed my hand away. "I want you to watch, feel, and learn, okay, baby?"

I nodded.

Mom handed me the empty container. "You take this." Then, her fingers curled around my erection, and she began the slow massage-pumping action. Warmth invaded my entire body; goosebumps rose everywhere on my skin. I felt my hair grow erect on my arms, legs and all over my head. I closed my eyes and drew long breaths.

"Do you feel it?" she asked, soothingly.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, she stopped. Her hand let me go. I opened my eyes, and her hands were on her hips. She looked concerned.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't like doing this without lubricant. The penis is a very sensitive organ."

I waited for her. Her face took on a look of decision, and she stated, "I'm going to use my saliva."

Mom bent over me. Her lips pursed, and a bubbly white dollop of spit emerged, hung for a moment and fell from her mouth down over the tip of my penis. It ran down one side before her hand swept it up and kneaded it into the skin. She did it again, rubbing it all around my erection.

Her jaw began pumping, like she was chewing something, and her cheeks drew in and out. She was gathering more saliva. She bent forward and spit it on my penis with a small "pwut." Her fingers painted it over my erection. She gathered more and spit again.

Her hand began to glide all around with very little friction. "There," she said.

"Mom?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Do girls think penises are gross?"

"Some do. Most don't." Her hand began to undulate, and her fingers kneaded my erection. She kept talking. "I hope some girl didn't say that to you. Yours is lovely. It is very hard and strong in my hand. The little upward bend of the tip will be very special for your girl during vaginal intercourse. No, don't ever let anyone tell you that your penis isn't perfect." Her hand rose and fell a few more times before she asked, "Baby, do you have a lot of experience?"

I shook my head.

She smiled. "I didn't think so, though there's no reason for you not to have. You're big, strong, and very handsome. I was always surprised you didn't have more girlfriends in high school."

She just kept talking and massaging.

"But, then you're shy. That's the only explanation. So girls don't get to see how sweet and cuddly you really are...oh, it's getting dried out."

She bent over my penis, gathered up saliva and opened her lips. It flowed out and drenched the tip.

"Do girls hate giving oral sex, Mom?"

"Some do. Many don't. Those that do hate it are often doing it incorrectly, like not coming up with an ejaculate plan beforehand." She looked up at me.

I watched her and said nothing.

She explained, "An ejaculate plan is nothing more than an agreement about what to do with the semen when you ejaculate. You must always have a plan before you begin. Another incorrect way would be if her teeth get in the way. It can be very uncomfortable for you, and if you don't like it, then the woman won't either."

I nodded when she glanced up at me.

"For a penis like yours, a woman will have to be very careful with her teeth."

I just watched her.

Mom stared down at her hand gliding up and down the length of my erection. Finally, she said, "Let me show you." She let go of my penis. She sat up on her knees, scooted back a ways, and then leaned forward. I looked along her back; it sloped up to her bottom, and I saw the crescent shaped mounds of her cheeks. They looked like the tops of two basketballs, side by side, hidden under black yoga pants.

She grasped my erection from her new position and raised it vertically. She looked at it, and the looked up my chest into my eyes.

"You see," she said, "with how thick yours is, your girl will need to open her mouth like this." Mom stretched her jaw open, and a black crease formed down each side of her mouth. She pointed the tip into the dark, gaping hole between her straining lips. I held my breath.

She drew my penis away from her face and closed her mouth. "Did it look like I could have fit your erection inside my mouth?"