Precocity
Posted: Wed Oct 22, 2025 9:33 am
Chapter 1: Precocious Crush
With hands clenched, I gazed up at the young woman in front of me, mouth hanging open in a mixture of fear and awe.
I had been secretly admiring this girl from afar for a month now and this was my first time speaking to her. I'd never felt more intimidated before in my 10 years of life. The leaves crunching under my sneakers seemed louder than they actually were, my nerves causing every stimulus to feel far more extreme than it was.
The smug, playful smirk she had on her face as she turned to scroll through her phone didn't help.
But with every ounce of boyhood courage I had, I reached for the button on my jeans.
How did things end up like this?
-
Children having "crushes" on one another isn't uncommon. To most children, loving someone just means liking them a lot. They have no notions of sexual, and sometimes even romantic, love. Their crushes are, for the most part, innocent. They may make a childhood marriage promise with their best friend just because. They might even pretend to get "married." Older kids generally have a basic idea of the birds and the bees, but still have to deal with raging hormones and lots of confusion.
But what happens when kids get crushes on adults?
In some cases, it happens. In those instances, you have an ordinary kid who has to deal with the ordinary awkwardness of having a crush on someone way out of their league.
Generally known as a "precocious crush," this is any instance of a child (usually pre-teen or younger, though young teenagers are sometimes susceptible) having a crush on someone considered at least one age level older than them. Teachers are common targets, as are other, non-related caretakers. While having this kind of crush is more often associated with girls, it is also common for boys to have this kind of crush. Usually, nothing ever comes of it... At least not until the child in question is much older, and even then, it still might seem unusual to some.
It's not as rare as one might think. Lots of kids get crushes on their teachers, or on their older neighbors, or friends of their older siblings, and older siblings of their friends, or even celebrities.
Perhaps that's why I felt the way I did when I first saw her. It was a day I'll never forget. Not because it was magical or once-in-a-lifetime. It was just an eye-opening experience for me.
School had only just started in our little rural town in Washington State. My house faced a street that many students walked along to the local high school. For me I was starting my first day of 6th grade at the local middle school, which was still nearby but farther from my house than the high school. I would sit in the living room to eat cereal, get dressed, and watch morning cartoons in preparation for my day. But when it was a rerun or I couldn't find any other cartoon to watch, I would sometimes gaze out the front window at the high schoolers walking by. That's when I spotted her.
I want to say it was down to chance but there was really no way to miss her. I never imagined a girl could be so brazen. It was impossible to not draw my eye among the other high schoolers.
She was very tall, easily five foot ten. Until that moment, I didn't even know girls could get that talll! Compared to my already underdeveloped three foot eleven, I would only barely come up to her underarms!
Even if she wasn't half-a-head-or-more taller than the teenagers walking with her, her looks and style would've easily made her stand out like a lone star in the night sky. Her hair was blonde, though I was unsure if it was dyed or natural, and her eyes were a beautiful blue. In stark contrast, she had a very even, nut-brown tan. She looked to be wearing noticeably more makeup than the other girls, but not a garish amount, and it was definitely applied with the skill of a beautician. From a distance, I couldn't tell if her long, pink fingernails were manicured and painted or stick-on false nails. Tons of colorful bracelets adorned her arms and matched the pink star-shaped hairclip, which sat independent of the twin pigtails she had deliberately styled for a cutesy and peppy look.
Most would consider such a girl flashy at most. A fashionista or valley girl, maybe. But it was the way she dressed that drew my eyes downward with enough gravity to make Isaac Newton blush.
Despite the autumn chill, she was wearing brown heeled thong sandals that showed off her pedicure. Her tanned legs and voluptuous thighs remained completely bare up to the shortest pleated red skirt I had ever seen. It snuggly fit her wide hips to show a tantalizing amount of thigh along with her flat midriff. Every so often during a particularly energetic movement or Autumn gust, it would flit upwards just enough for me to see a hint of the bottom of bare buttcheeks on her large, bubbly ass. It led me to briefly fantasize what kind of panties she might be wearing, an interest I had never had before.
Surely that kind of skirt would violate most school dress codes, right? If it didn't, what she wore on her upper half surely would. When most girls wore a cardigan, they did so as a jacket. You could say this girl was doing the same, but most people wore a shirt under their jacket! That's right, no top, no bra. The cream cardigan was incredibly loose, baring her collarbone and even hanging off one of her shoulders. The way the cardigan was hanging so loosely off her shoulders caused the long sleeves to seem even longer, adding a cute accent to her revealing outfit. Only a loosely-tied thread of cream yarn the same material as the rest of the cardigan held it closed, parted enough that a borderline illegal amount of evenly tanned skin was revealed.
And what a lot to reveal she had! I'd already mentioned her luscious thighs, the flat yet soft meat to her midriff, and her huge ass. But her boobs were on another level! Maybe it was because of my inexperience or age, but they seemed truly gigantic to me. Massive brown boulders that jostled and jiggled like gelatin molds, and she didn't even seem to care. With only two tied strands of yarn to contain it, I kept expecting one of the shoulders to slip far enough for a nipple to become visible, but it never happened. No matter how much every slight movement or giggle among her friends caused them to undulate, they remained just barely covered.
I think that was what did it for me. What made me so infatuated with this girl was the fact she was what awakened me to boobs. But just like that, she was gone down the street, and I was left dazed, confused, and struggling to sort through the new feelings I was having.
I looked down and realized that my shorts felt uncomfortable. Worried, I pulled them down, shocked to see a boner tenting my briefs. I'd been getting random boners and morning wood since puberty first started, but that was the first time my brain made the internal realization of one being caused by visual stimulus. Not really knowing all that much about masturbation though, I was confused on what to do with it. Normally I would let my morning wood and random boners fade, but this felt so different. I felt a heat in my torso and a weird cotton-like fuzz in my head.
"Cakey, are you almost ready for school?"
I jumped when my mom popped her head into the living room, her gaze dropping to the tent in my briefs.
"Oh, Cakey. You're normally dressed by now. C'mon, get your pants on." Her lack of reaction to my erection seemed odd to me.
After that, I was infatuated with that mystery girl. Every morning, I would look out the window and wait for her to pass by. Each time, she was wearing an equally outlandish outfit in pastel colors, usually consisting of articles of clothing that would be perfectly acceptable should they be paired with other articles or worn a different way. On the windier days, I often saw her wearing similar cardigans, sweater vests, and open-shoulder sweater mini dresses to what I first saw her in, while the warmer days of early Autumn had her in spaghetti strap sundresses, camisoles, and barely-buttoned blouses.
Despite how much of her skin and curves she always displayed, she had an extremely feminine fashion sense. I never once saw her wearing shorts or pants, only dresses and skirts that seemed a bit too short for her, and always in soft pastel colors. She would wear lots of different accessories on her wrists and hair, always changing it up with no discernible pattern. None of her friends dressed like her, either. She was always dancing to the beat of her own drummer and I think that's one of the other reasons I was so drawn to her. She stood out, deliberately, and didn't care how against the flow she was going so long as she was happy being authentic self.
As I watched her, I realized that her style was almost as interesting to me as her curves. I found myself looking up fashion on the Internet whenever I saw her wearing something I didn't recognize. The flashy nature of her outfits, makeup, and accessories made it almost seem like she was glowing and shining, standing out even further among the more muted colors of the people around her. I'd once heard one of my mother's friends say that women found confidence sexy, but now I wondered if it was true with the sexes reversed. The sheer boldness with which she carried herself, the audacity to dress with barely any skin covered and her luscious curves on display, made me find her all the more intriguing.
-
One evening I was in the living room on my laptop. My mother was at work and I had already prepared dinner for her after school, so this was my time alone. I was again looking up fashion on Google Image Search, intrigued by the newest cream colored variation of a sweater I had seen my dream girl wearing that morning. It truly was fascinating just how many sub-varieties of sweater-based upper body garments there were and how something normally used for warmth could be made so curve-hugging and revealing! It was then I discovered something. It had apparently made the rounds for a while on the Internet, a viral cryptid of yesteryear.
The virgin killer sweater.
I found myself staring at an image of it, marveling at the feats of tactile engineering it would have taken to make such a treasure. Even moreso, my eyes were drawn to the visage of a model by the name of Jun Amaki who quite proudly modeled the garment. While her breasts weren't as large as my dream girl's, their well-above-average size reminded me of her. Combined with the various kinds of sweaters she wore, it was easy to fantasize that tanned fashionist of my dreams in the place of this model, in that very same garment.
The next thing I knew, I had pulled my shirt off and dropped my pajama pants and briefs down to the floor. I had no idea what I was doing, only that I needed to do it. My penis was incredibly hard, the twitching erection pointing straight up against my flat tummy. I placed my fingers on it and began to rub. I had no particular plan, I just was doing what felt good, but was too scared of breaking it to simply grab it and jerk. My balls jiggled with each up and down motion and I found myself automatically spreading my legs as I got going. Vigorous rubbing motions moved to the jiggling of my dream girl's breasts, played on repeat in my head with that virgin killer overlapped upon her. A gorgeous model on my screen, but I still only had eyes for that mystery girl on the sidewalk.
I have no idea how long I was doing that. I had no measure for progress from lack of experience. If I was at all close to the end, I would never know. In my fantasies and focused movements, I didn't hear the front door open.
"Cakey, I'm home! Oh, dinner smells-What?!"
I opened my eyes to see my mom standing there, her mousey brown hair still up in a bun from her office job. She set her purse down and stepped over to the sitting area. I should have ran, but I was too shocked at being caught doing something I didn't even understand. Oddly enough, she didn't seem mad. Surprised, yes. But she was looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and regret. It was the realization that her regret was from a feeling like she had somehow been responsible for this which finally snapped me out of my deer-in-the-headlights act. I slapped my hands over my hard penis and balls.
"M-Mom! I-I-I'm sorry, I dunno what-"
She leaned forward, placing a finger on my lips. For the first time in my life, I noticed the bustline her motion was showing me. Her suit jacket was only half-buttoned and the blouse beneath it was unbuttoned just enough to show some cleavage that was almost as impressive as Jun Amaki's. I tore my eyes from them to look at her face and saw a warm smile on my mother's lips.
Standing up straight, she moved to sit next to me on the sofa, reaching up to undo her bun in the process. I felt very awkward, sitting there completely naked as my mom, fully clothed in her skirted business suit, remained silent but smiling warmly. I was confused and had no idea what was going on.
My mom slipped her jacket off and unbuttoned her blouse a bit more. With her hair out from its bun and still looking unkempt, she had an oddly relaxed vibe to her that I'd never really recognized before. Scooting a bit closer to me, she wrapped her arm around my naked form and pulled me a little closer. I distinctly smelled the body soap she used.
"Cakey, sweetie..." she finally began. My eyes were briefly drawn to her cleavage, then back up at the nurturing smile on her face. "Was that your first time doing that, or have you done it before?"
I hadn't fully internalized what "that" was, but I shook my head, feeling my cheek rub against my mother's blouse-clad breast.
A giggle that reminded me how young my mom was compared to other mothers escaped her lips. "I thought so." The fact she believed me wasn't strange. I was always a terrible liar and mom could always see straight through me. She sometimes called me her little open book. She glanced at the laptop and I realized with growing anxiety that I still had on the image of virgin killer sweater clad model Jun Amaki. I expected her to get angry but instead she smirked at me. "This is the kind of girl you like, hm?"
I shook my head again. "I was thinking of... someone else." I have no idea why I was being so open about that. It was like the vulnerability of my situation made me less defensive and guarded.
It took a moment for mom to understand what I meant, but when she did her face lit up, gasping in delight. "Cakey! You finally noticed girls? Who's your little crush? Is it a girl from school?"
As bad as I was at lying, I could still lie by omission and say technically true statements just fine. She was from a school... just not mine. So I nodded.
My mom let out an excited giggle, grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving my face into her breasts. "Oh, Cakey! I'm so happy for you! My little man is hitting his young love age! Are you going to ask her out? Oh, you don't have to introduce her to me right away! I don't wanna be a helicopter parent. Just let me meet her when you're both ready, okay?"
It hit me then. Something I'd never even considered before. I'd always been watching her from afar, but... we'd never spoken. I didn't even know her name, and there's no way she knew I existed. Not once had her friends looked at my living room window when walking by. Asking her out? Was that even possible?
"But... I don't know if we're-"
My mom interrupted me, pulling my face away from her boobs with her hands on my bare shoulders. "No no! No buts. Not unless it's this cute tushy." I jumped when my mom gave my bare butt cheek a pinch, reminding me that I was as naked as the day I was born in front of my fully clothed mother right now. I moved my feet to search for my discorded PJ pants and briefs, but I think mom had kicked them aside when moving to sit with me. My shirt also wasn't behind me and I wondered when she might have moved it.
With a surprising amount of strength for a short and petite woman, my mom lifted me up and placed me in her lap, hugging me tightly. My legs moved on their own, wrapping around her waist and pressing my hard penis into her stomach. She gently rocked her upper body and hummed to me as she pressed my face into her sweet smelling cleavage.
"Cakey, you know I'm always trying as hard as I can to be the best parent I can for you... It's my fault you don't have a dad and I want to be good enough for both even with Pappy here." Pappy was my maternal grandfather. We moved in with him after mom had me. He was the closest thing I had to a father figure but he was away on his yearly casino vacation this month. "That's why I want to encourage you to not stay in your bubble. Go out, have fun, meet girls or boys if you're into that, get in trouble." Pausing a moment, mom pulled a way, raising her index finger and wagging it at me with a stern expression. "But not too much trouble! I know possible rejection might sound like the scariest thing, but you're only young once. If she says no it might sting a bit but you'll find another crush. And hey, your mama will always be here for you. I can make you your favorite food and wash you in the bath like I used to. That'll cheer you up."
I blushed. My mom was definitely a beautiful woman and felt shy about my body around her like any boy would with his mother. Her youth only made it all the more awkward. A twitch from my penis reminded me just how naked I was right now in her arms.
No doubt feeling the throb my erection gave against her blouse-clad stomach, my mouth grinned. "It's nice, having you all nakey like this. Reminds me of when you were a baby. Did I ever tell you that I could never get you to keep your clothes on as a toddler? I ended up using nakey time as a reward for good behavior. It was so fun watching your cute little penis bounce around as you played with your neighbor Eliza."
"Wait, Eliza saw me naked?!"
Mom giggled. "Oh, relax. You were both just tykes at the time. If you don't remember than she obviously doesn't. I still have a photo of you naked with her in the sandbox."
"With her? Was she naked too?"
"Oh, no, no. I offered but she refused and I wasn't going to force her. But I remember she was veeeery interested in your penis and bubbly butt! I think she really liked having a naked boy as a neighbor and best friend. You should hang out with her again. Maybe we can recreate that nakey boy time!" A pinch on my bare butt cheek caused me to stiffen in more ways than one.
My mom stood up, effortlessly placing my naked body on the sofa. I was so shocked at how easily yet gently she had manhandled me that I forgot to cover my throbbing, erect penis. My mom stepped away and gathered up my clothes, causing a pang of anxiety in my heart. Glancing over her shoulder, my young mother winked at me. "I'll just go put these in the laundry for you. You finish up and come eat dinner with me, Cakey. No need to get dressed. I've already seen it all so no point, hm?"
I prayed my boner would subside by the time my mother returned from the laundry room but sadly she spent the rest of the night quite amused by my twitching erection as we ate dinner. It only barely subsided as I lay naked in her lap afterwards, enjoying her hands massaging my bare body as we watched TV until I fell asleep.
With hands clenched, I gazed up at the young woman in front of me, mouth hanging open in a mixture of fear and awe.
I had been secretly admiring this girl from afar for a month now and this was my first time speaking to her. I'd never felt more intimidated before in my 10 years of life. The leaves crunching under my sneakers seemed louder than they actually were, my nerves causing every stimulus to feel far more extreme than it was.
The smug, playful smirk she had on her face as she turned to scroll through her phone didn't help.
But with every ounce of boyhood courage I had, I reached for the button on my jeans.
How did things end up like this?
-
Children having "crushes" on one another isn't uncommon. To most children, loving someone just means liking them a lot. They have no notions of sexual, and sometimes even romantic, love. Their crushes are, for the most part, innocent. They may make a childhood marriage promise with their best friend just because. They might even pretend to get "married." Older kids generally have a basic idea of the birds and the bees, but still have to deal with raging hormones and lots of confusion.
But what happens when kids get crushes on adults?
In some cases, it happens. In those instances, you have an ordinary kid who has to deal with the ordinary awkwardness of having a crush on someone way out of their league.
Generally known as a "precocious crush," this is any instance of a child (usually pre-teen or younger, though young teenagers are sometimes susceptible) having a crush on someone considered at least one age level older than them. Teachers are common targets, as are other, non-related caretakers. While having this kind of crush is more often associated with girls, it is also common for boys to have this kind of crush. Usually, nothing ever comes of it... At least not until the child in question is much older, and even then, it still might seem unusual to some.
It's not as rare as one might think. Lots of kids get crushes on their teachers, or on their older neighbors, or friends of their older siblings, and older siblings of their friends, or even celebrities.
Perhaps that's why I felt the way I did when I first saw her. It was a day I'll never forget. Not because it was magical or once-in-a-lifetime. It was just an eye-opening experience for me.
School had only just started in our little rural town in Washington State. My house faced a street that many students walked along to the local high school. For me I was starting my first day of 6th grade at the local middle school, which was still nearby but farther from my house than the high school. I would sit in the living room to eat cereal, get dressed, and watch morning cartoons in preparation for my day. But when it was a rerun or I couldn't find any other cartoon to watch, I would sometimes gaze out the front window at the high schoolers walking by. That's when I spotted her.
I want to say it was down to chance but there was really no way to miss her. I never imagined a girl could be so brazen. It was impossible to not draw my eye among the other high schoolers.
She was very tall, easily five foot ten. Until that moment, I didn't even know girls could get that talll! Compared to my already underdeveloped three foot eleven, I would only barely come up to her underarms!
Even if she wasn't half-a-head-or-more taller than the teenagers walking with her, her looks and style would've easily made her stand out like a lone star in the night sky. Her hair was blonde, though I was unsure if it was dyed or natural, and her eyes were a beautiful blue. In stark contrast, she had a very even, nut-brown tan. She looked to be wearing noticeably more makeup than the other girls, but not a garish amount, and it was definitely applied with the skill of a beautician. From a distance, I couldn't tell if her long, pink fingernails were manicured and painted or stick-on false nails. Tons of colorful bracelets adorned her arms and matched the pink star-shaped hairclip, which sat independent of the twin pigtails she had deliberately styled for a cutesy and peppy look.
Most would consider such a girl flashy at most. A fashionista or valley girl, maybe. But it was the way she dressed that drew my eyes downward with enough gravity to make Isaac Newton blush.
Despite the autumn chill, she was wearing brown heeled thong sandals that showed off her pedicure. Her tanned legs and voluptuous thighs remained completely bare up to the shortest pleated red skirt I had ever seen. It snuggly fit her wide hips to show a tantalizing amount of thigh along with her flat midriff. Every so often during a particularly energetic movement or Autumn gust, it would flit upwards just enough for me to see a hint of the bottom of bare buttcheeks on her large, bubbly ass. It led me to briefly fantasize what kind of panties she might be wearing, an interest I had never had before.
Surely that kind of skirt would violate most school dress codes, right? If it didn't, what she wore on her upper half surely would. When most girls wore a cardigan, they did so as a jacket. You could say this girl was doing the same, but most people wore a shirt under their jacket! That's right, no top, no bra. The cream cardigan was incredibly loose, baring her collarbone and even hanging off one of her shoulders. The way the cardigan was hanging so loosely off her shoulders caused the long sleeves to seem even longer, adding a cute accent to her revealing outfit. Only a loosely-tied thread of cream yarn the same material as the rest of the cardigan held it closed, parted enough that a borderline illegal amount of evenly tanned skin was revealed.
And what a lot to reveal she had! I'd already mentioned her luscious thighs, the flat yet soft meat to her midriff, and her huge ass. But her boobs were on another level! Maybe it was because of my inexperience or age, but they seemed truly gigantic to me. Massive brown boulders that jostled and jiggled like gelatin molds, and she didn't even seem to care. With only two tied strands of yarn to contain it, I kept expecting one of the shoulders to slip far enough for a nipple to become visible, but it never happened. No matter how much every slight movement or giggle among her friends caused them to undulate, they remained just barely covered.
I think that was what did it for me. What made me so infatuated with this girl was the fact she was what awakened me to boobs. But just like that, she was gone down the street, and I was left dazed, confused, and struggling to sort through the new feelings I was having.
I looked down and realized that my shorts felt uncomfortable. Worried, I pulled them down, shocked to see a boner tenting my briefs. I'd been getting random boners and morning wood since puberty first started, but that was the first time my brain made the internal realization of one being caused by visual stimulus. Not really knowing all that much about masturbation though, I was confused on what to do with it. Normally I would let my morning wood and random boners fade, but this felt so different. I felt a heat in my torso and a weird cotton-like fuzz in my head.
"Cakey, are you almost ready for school?"
I jumped when my mom popped her head into the living room, her gaze dropping to the tent in my briefs.
"Oh, Cakey. You're normally dressed by now. C'mon, get your pants on." Her lack of reaction to my erection seemed odd to me.
After that, I was infatuated with that mystery girl. Every morning, I would look out the window and wait for her to pass by. Each time, she was wearing an equally outlandish outfit in pastel colors, usually consisting of articles of clothing that would be perfectly acceptable should they be paired with other articles or worn a different way. On the windier days, I often saw her wearing similar cardigans, sweater vests, and open-shoulder sweater mini dresses to what I first saw her in, while the warmer days of early Autumn had her in spaghetti strap sundresses, camisoles, and barely-buttoned blouses.
Despite how much of her skin and curves she always displayed, she had an extremely feminine fashion sense. I never once saw her wearing shorts or pants, only dresses and skirts that seemed a bit too short for her, and always in soft pastel colors. She would wear lots of different accessories on her wrists and hair, always changing it up with no discernible pattern. None of her friends dressed like her, either. She was always dancing to the beat of her own drummer and I think that's one of the other reasons I was so drawn to her. She stood out, deliberately, and didn't care how against the flow she was going so long as she was happy being authentic self.
As I watched her, I realized that her style was almost as interesting to me as her curves. I found myself looking up fashion on the Internet whenever I saw her wearing something I didn't recognize. The flashy nature of her outfits, makeup, and accessories made it almost seem like she was glowing and shining, standing out even further among the more muted colors of the people around her. I'd once heard one of my mother's friends say that women found confidence sexy, but now I wondered if it was true with the sexes reversed. The sheer boldness with which she carried herself, the audacity to dress with barely any skin covered and her luscious curves on display, made me find her all the more intriguing.
-
One evening I was in the living room on my laptop. My mother was at work and I had already prepared dinner for her after school, so this was my time alone. I was again looking up fashion on Google Image Search, intrigued by the newest cream colored variation of a sweater I had seen my dream girl wearing that morning. It truly was fascinating just how many sub-varieties of sweater-based upper body garments there were and how something normally used for warmth could be made so curve-hugging and revealing! It was then I discovered something. It had apparently made the rounds for a while on the Internet, a viral cryptid of yesteryear.
The virgin killer sweater.
I found myself staring at an image of it, marveling at the feats of tactile engineering it would have taken to make such a treasure. Even moreso, my eyes were drawn to the visage of a model by the name of Jun Amaki who quite proudly modeled the garment. While her breasts weren't as large as my dream girl's, their well-above-average size reminded me of her. Combined with the various kinds of sweaters she wore, it was easy to fantasize that tanned fashionist of my dreams in the place of this model, in that very same garment.
The next thing I knew, I had pulled my shirt off and dropped my pajama pants and briefs down to the floor. I had no idea what I was doing, only that I needed to do it. My penis was incredibly hard, the twitching erection pointing straight up against my flat tummy. I placed my fingers on it and began to rub. I had no particular plan, I just was doing what felt good, but was too scared of breaking it to simply grab it and jerk. My balls jiggled with each up and down motion and I found myself automatically spreading my legs as I got going. Vigorous rubbing motions moved to the jiggling of my dream girl's breasts, played on repeat in my head with that virgin killer overlapped upon her. A gorgeous model on my screen, but I still only had eyes for that mystery girl on the sidewalk.
I have no idea how long I was doing that. I had no measure for progress from lack of experience. If I was at all close to the end, I would never know. In my fantasies and focused movements, I didn't hear the front door open.
"Cakey, I'm home! Oh, dinner smells-What?!"
I opened my eyes to see my mom standing there, her mousey brown hair still up in a bun from her office job. She set her purse down and stepped over to the sitting area. I should have ran, but I was too shocked at being caught doing something I didn't even understand. Oddly enough, she didn't seem mad. Surprised, yes. But she was looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and regret. It was the realization that her regret was from a feeling like she had somehow been responsible for this which finally snapped me out of my deer-in-the-headlights act. I slapped my hands over my hard penis and balls.
"M-Mom! I-I-I'm sorry, I dunno what-"
She leaned forward, placing a finger on my lips. For the first time in my life, I noticed the bustline her motion was showing me. Her suit jacket was only half-buttoned and the blouse beneath it was unbuttoned just enough to show some cleavage that was almost as impressive as Jun Amaki's. I tore my eyes from them to look at her face and saw a warm smile on my mother's lips.
Standing up straight, she moved to sit next to me on the sofa, reaching up to undo her bun in the process. I felt very awkward, sitting there completely naked as my mom, fully clothed in her skirted business suit, remained silent but smiling warmly. I was confused and had no idea what was going on.
My mom slipped her jacket off and unbuttoned her blouse a bit more. With her hair out from its bun and still looking unkempt, she had an oddly relaxed vibe to her that I'd never really recognized before. Scooting a bit closer to me, she wrapped her arm around my naked form and pulled me a little closer. I distinctly smelled the body soap she used.
"Cakey, sweetie..." she finally began. My eyes were briefly drawn to her cleavage, then back up at the nurturing smile on her face. "Was that your first time doing that, or have you done it before?"
I hadn't fully internalized what "that" was, but I shook my head, feeling my cheek rub against my mother's blouse-clad breast.
A giggle that reminded me how young my mom was compared to other mothers escaped her lips. "I thought so." The fact she believed me wasn't strange. I was always a terrible liar and mom could always see straight through me. She sometimes called me her little open book. She glanced at the laptop and I realized with growing anxiety that I still had on the image of virgin killer sweater clad model Jun Amaki. I expected her to get angry but instead she smirked at me. "This is the kind of girl you like, hm?"
I shook my head again. "I was thinking of... someone else." I have no idea why I was being so open about that. It was like the vulnerability of my situation made me less defensive and guarded.
It took a moment for mom to understand what I meant, but when she did her face lit up, gasping in delight. "Cakey! You finally noticed girls? Who's your little crush? Is it a girl from school?"
As bad as I was at lying, I could still lie by omission and say technically true statements just fine. She was from a school... just not mine. So I nodded.
My mom let out an excited giggle, grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving my face into her breasts. "Oh, Cakey! I'm so happy for you! My little man is hitting his young love age! Are you going to ask her out? Oh, you don't have to introduce her to me right away! I don't wanna be a helicopter parent. Just let me meet her when you're both ready, okay?"
It hit me then. Something I'd never even considered before. I'd always been watching her from afar, but... we'd never spoken. I didn't even know her name, and there's no way she knew I existed. Not once had her friends looked at my living room window when walking by. Asking her out? Was that even possible?
"But... I don't know if we're-"
My mom interrupted me, pulling my face away from her boobs with her hands on my bare shoulders. "No no! No buts. Not unless it's this cute tushy." I jumped when my mom gave my bare butt cheek a pinch, reminding me that I was as naked as the day I was born in front of my fully clothed mother right now. I moved my feet to search for my discorded PJ pants and briefs, but I think mom had kicked them aside when moving to sit with me. My shirt also wasn't behind me and I wondered when she might have moved it.
With a surprising amount of strength for a short and petite woman, my mom lifted me up and placed me in her lap, hugging me tightly. My legs moved on their own, wrapping around her waist and pressing my hard penis into her stomach. She gently rocked her upper body and hummed to me as she pressed my face into her sweet smelling cleavage.
"Cakey, you know I'm always trying as hard as I can to be the best parent I can for you... It's my fault you don't have a dad and I want to be good enough for both even with Pappy here." Pappy was my maternal grandfather. We moved in with him after mom had me. He was the closest thing I had to a father figure but he was away on his yearly casino vacation this month. "That's why I want to encourage you to not stay in your bubble. Go out, have fun, meet girls or boys if you're into that, get in trouble." Pausing a moment, mom pulled a way, raising her index finger and wagging it at me with a stern expression. "But not too much trouble! I know possible rejection might sound like the scariest thing, but you're only young once. If she says no it might sting a bit but you'll find another crush. And hey, your mama will always be here for you. I can make you your favorite food and wash you in the bath like I used to. That'll cheer you up."
I blushed. My mom was definitely a beautiful woman and felt shy about my body around her like any boy would with his mother. Her youth only made it all the more awkward. A twitch from my penis reminded me just how naked I was right now in her arms.
No doubt feeling the throb my erection gave against her blouse-clad stomach, my mouth grinned. "It's nice, having you all nakey like this. Reminds me of when you were a baby. Did I ever tell you that I could never get you to keep your clothes on as a toddler? I ended up using nakey time as a reward for good behavior. It was so fun watching your cute little penis bounce around as you played with your neighbor Eliza."
"Wait, Eliza saw me naked?!"
Mom giggled. "Oh, relax. You were both just tykes at the time. If you don't remember than she obviously doesn't. I still have a photo of you naked with her in the sandbox."
"With her? Was she naked too?"
"Oh, no, no. I offered but she refused and I wasn't going to force her. But I remember she was veeeery interested in your penis and bubbly butt! I think she really liked having a naked boy as a neighbor and best friend. You should hang out with her again. Maybe we can recreate that nakey boy time!" A pinch on my bare butt cheek caused me to stiffen in more ways than one.
My mom stood up, effortlessly placing my naked body on the sofa. I was so shocked at how easily yet gently she had manhandled me that I forgot to cover my throbbing, erect penis. My mom stepped away and gathered up my clothes, causing a pang of anxiety in my heart. Glancing over her shoulder, my young mother winked at me. "I'll just go put these in the laundry for you. You finish up and come eat dinner with me, Cakey. No need to get dressed. I've already seen it all so no point, hm?"
I prayed my boner would subside by the time my mother returned from the laundry room but sadly she spent the rest of the night quite amused by my twitching erection as we ate dinner. It only barely subsided as I lay naked in her lap afterwards, enjoying her hands massaging my bare body as we watched TV until I fell asleep.