Mom had a silly girlish grin on her face as I started to flood the beaker with my thick stuff. “Does it bother you that I did what I did?”
We sat in silence for a moment before I shook my head. I lay back against my pillow still breathing hard as I came down from the high of my masturbated by Mom orgasm. Each spurt of my spewing member was met with a muffled squeal as she reached around and brazenly grabbed my bare ass cheeks to keep us both still. Sort of. I sat there twiddling my thumbs not exactly sure what to do or how to break the ice. Stick to the plan as we had agreed. “Seriously, Henry,” muttered Mom as she shuffled forward on her knees, “Just hurry up and shoot will you. Wow. Holy fucking shitballs with mustard on. “Don’t be a dick,” I sighed and stood up straight pulling a serious face as I looked myself up and down. But that’s the thing with expectation and an over-active imagination. I don’t have all day.”
What was she on about? Gee, there was a thing. Unaware she was being watched, Mom was sat at the table with the beaker in front of her and she was scribbling down the result and date onto the sheet.
