"Nlk-nlk!" My mother's eyes were wide and shocked as I came. Didn't she like it? I had tried to hold back as long as possible and I thought everything had gone relatively well. I had managed to maintain my erection and the orgasm was surprisingly intense considering this was just mom who we were talking about.
It's hard when you're nineteen and you've never had a girlfriend and a painful series of rejections has left you with a bout of depression which seems to be impossible to overcome on your own. Mom had eventually found a well known, although somewhat controversial therapist had who recommended daily oral stimulation to overcome feelings of depression, anxiety and rejection. Professionals were expensive and my parents were already paying the therapist, so mom's thriftiness had gotten the best of her and she had decided to do this herself.
It was difficult to get excited about mom even if she was naked and I hadn't ever seen any actual girls like that, but all things considered, I thought the first session had been quite successful. Mom had managed to build up a steady rhythm which felt much better than anything I would have been able to do with my own hand and I had ejaculated in healthy, weighty spurts.
"This is a learning experience for me too, honey," mom said, and I have to mention I had found some new kind of adoration and appreciation for my mother during this. "It's a bit uncomfortable if it goes straight down my throat like that, and Dr. Janice said it's important for me to become familiar with the taste and learn to accept it and eagerly expect it."
"Sure thing, mom," I nodded in agreement as her fingers started slowly and sensitively stroking my balls, and that felt really nice. Mom was naked mostly just so I would feel less embarrassed about it myself. I can't say her small saggy freckled breasts were doing much for me, but her strawberry blonde curls felt good when they were bouncing against my hands as they rested on her shoulders. I had noted her pubic hair was the same color as her curls, but I tried to avoid looking at it apart from occasional instinctive and naturally curious glances.
I tried to warn mom this time: "Oh God, mom, I'm gonna...!" but I only felt the pace of her fingers quickening and she kept looking up at me with big Bambi eyes.
They widened adorably and she yelped in surprise, "M-m!" when I audibly squirted in her mouth so hard it made her cheeks throb. My mother's eyes were blinking as she sloshed a mouthful of my sperm around on her tongue. Then her lips turned into a tight line as she swallowed. Once, twice, again.
"All right, that's that," mom said, but I could see her smile looked a bit forced. She didn't seem to have liked it as much as I could have hoped. "Or do you think you can still shoot more?"
"Yeah, maybe like two or three times, I think," I answered honestly and heard mom sigh a little in frustration. She hadn't gotten used to this yet. The therapist had given strict orders that we had to continue until it was absolutely certain I had nothing left to shoot, so mom was soon active again. She was licking my balls and caressing them with her fingers, looking up at me with big blinking eyes. My hands were on her shoulders as I started hardening again.
I was feeling really warm and less awkward already and I told her as much: "This really is making me feel better, mom. Dr. Janice is a really smart woman."
"Mm-hm," mom said and closed her eyes. Now that the initial tension was over, she took her time and put more feeling of tender motherly care into it, and after shooting several more times I was starting to feel happier and more content than I had for a long time.
These had already been the best orgasms I'd had in my entire life, so afterwards I could only softly caress my mother's hair, knowing that tomorrow would be another wonderful day. I was feeling nice and relaxed now, and I was glad we had managed to find such a good therapist to help me.
When I came to breakfast the next morning, even my sister noticed I was looking more cheerful than lately. She didn't know any of the specifics, of course, only that I was seeing a therapist.
I just shrugged and said: "Dr. Janice is really good, I guess." I had learned life is much easier to live to the fullest when you know your balls are going to be swallowed dry every evening with the kind of great care and compassion only your own mother can provide. The memories and the knowledge that the next time would soon follow kept me excited and energetic during the day.
We were seeing Dr. Janice twice a week to give updates about our situation and to make sure we hadn't skipped any evenings. The intention of this month-long oral warm-up period was to teach me to feel comfortable about being close to another person, after which I was going to make love for the first time. I was feeling glad that I was doing this with mom instead of some random girl and I said as much to Dr. Janice.
Mom touched my hand as she explained to the doctor: "Yes, and I think I'm getting used to the taste, so everything is going fine so far."
"Good, good," the doctor said, lifting her glasses with her little finger and scribbling in her notepad. She was satisfied everything was well after the first week, so she let us leave earlier this time.
The rest of the month went surprisingly quickly because there was something wonderful to experience every day. We were going to visit grandma's place for a family gathering just before our final session with Dr. Janice. That could have caused some complications, but I'm sure mom had thought of something even if she hadn't mentioned it to the doctor.
My grandparents and cousins had gathered for the summer fest. I hadn't been particularly close with them before, but they seemed to notice I had become more social than before, so we were chatting quite a bit during the dinner.
"Can you come help me pick some apples from the glade, Johnny?" mom asked. She was wearing her flowered summer dress and her hair had been tied up into a practical ponytail with a blue ribbon so it wouldn't get in the way during cooking and farm tasks.
Grandma's apple pie was famous, so she agreed with mom. "That's a great idea, Sandy. They are getting ripe and will make for a nice pie," she said and smiled warmly, so me and mom left for a walk after dinner.
"Don't we need something to put the apples in?" I wondered as we were on the way, but mom reminded me that grandma kept some buckets and baskets in the shack near the glade. When we got there I was surprised to notice there already was a basket full of fresh apples in the shack, and that mom only took a picnic blanket with her.
When mom saw the questioning expression on my face, she explained: "I asked Gina to pick those earlier so no-one would wonder what we actually were doing."
"Oh, right." I understood what mom meant and followed her to the sunny and beautiful glade where the old apple tree grew. Being outdoors in the midst of this beautiful scenery created a nice and romantic atmosphere, and mom was looking quite elated as a gentle breeze brushed against her bouncy ponytail and flowered summer dress.
"Don't worry, your grandma isn't going to let anyone bother us. She knows this is important," mom said and set the picnic blanket down on the ground under the tree.
"Okay," I said and leaned against the apple tree, remembering how I often used to play here as a kid. I took a comfortable position and watched how mom pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders. I started opening my belt as she reached behind her back and unlatched her bra, revealing her freckled breasts. She let it fall on the fresh green grass and kneeled down on the blanket. She bit her lip adorably and looked up at me. I caressed her cheek lightly and noticed how the breeze had made her nipples all pointy.
Mom's ponytail was cute and it made for a nice and bouncy visual as her head moved. I was sighing and my hips were twisting and turning in response. Being close with mom had started feeling more natural already and I could appreciate she was doing this herself.
Everything felt slower and romantic here than it did at home. The slimy gurgling and gagging sounds of tender and caring motherly deepthroating were as much a part of nature as the singing of the sparrows in the tree. Mom retained amazing and consistent eye contact throughout. Her lips were pouty, her cheeks were hollow and her ponytail was bouncing energetically.