Joseph and His Mother

"Susan, please," Deborah complained. It was terribly embarrassing to have one's boobs bounced so playfully, so disrespectfully, in front of one's own son. She glanced out onto her front lawn and the street beyond. "Can you at least close the drapes?"

Dr. Lowenstein wasn't surprised by her sister's reaction. She was often disappointed to hear how reluctant her patients were to acknowledge to their family or friends about being in treatment. Why the reluctance to admit that you are trying to become a better, stronger, healthier person? She had closed the drapes the previous day, recognizing that it would be asking too much of her sister to be so open during the first session, but she felt that her sister was now ready to take the next step. "Susan," she replied, continuing to playfully bounce and bobble her sister's boobs, "you should not be ashamed or embarrassed about being in therapy."

Joseph's cock had begun to swell as soon as he saw his mother coming down the hall, and it grew even further as he watched his aunt having such fun with his mother's breasts. Perhaps he should participate as well? They could bounce them against one another, like they were having a pillow fight with his mother's boobs.

But, before he could get enough courage to make the suggestion, consistent with prior failures to ask a girl out when the opportunity arose, his aunt let go of them. The moment had passed.

Dr. Lowenstein turned to Joseph to ask, "Well, what sort of housework would you like your mother to perform, Joseph?"

It was not common with any household to have the man of the house decide what chores his wife will perform, but this was all part of the therapeutic exercise. Joseph would have the authority to decide, as usually his mother decided what chores he would have to do. Joseph though kept it rather simple, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. "Well, um, some dusting and cleaning would be nice, I guess, um, here, in the living room."

"Excellent choice!" Dr. Lowenstein reinforced the young man's decision. "Why don't we get out of your mother's way, sit down, and do some reading while she cleans up a bit."

"Um, yeah, sure, of course." Joseph really wasn't into reading but he most definitely would enjoy his mother remaining within his line of vision as she dusted and cleaned. What would be the point of having her wear this outfit if he could not admire her beauty within it. He picked up an issue of Good Housekeeping and sat down in one of the easy chairs. It wasn't a magazine that had much interest for him but he wasn't planning on doing much reading anyway.

Deborah rolled her eyes. She had just cleaned this room a few days ago, and didn't particularly like hearing the suggestion that it needed more cleaning, but she also figured that not only was Joseph not a good judge of what needed cleaning, he probably didn't even care much about it. She left the room to get a rag, dust cloth, cleaning spray, and whatever else she might need.

She took her time gathering the materials, stopping by in the family room bathroom to notice how provocatively she was dressed. She did feel though that her breasts were holding up well. She smiled as she gave them a wiggle. But, it was really so difficult to be dressed this way in front of her son. When she finally returned to the living room it was evident that both her sister and Joseph were going to enjoy the little show, as well would anyone else who happened to be walking or driving by the front of the house. She repeatedly glanced out through the window as she did her cleaning and was relieved to see that nobody was out there, so far. But, she could not avoid the eyes of her sister and son.

It was like she was some sort of classic French maid, bending over to dust or clean here and there. At first she kneeled or squatted, trying to minimize the exposure of her bottom, but that didn't help to hide her breasts, which tended to shake rather embarrassingly as she cleaned a surface of a side table, causing Joseph and her sister to smile approvingly. She considered holding onto her boobs as she cleaned, thereby hiding them a bit and minimizing their shameful wiggling, but that would only draw further attention to them, as well as acknowledge publicly her discomfort with their exposure. Plus, she figured that Susan would just tell her to remove her hand.

She eventually tried bending over, her breasts falling out in front of her, her bottom at least hiding the front of her body if she turned her derriere directly to her son. The skirt was so short though that it was clear that much of her butt was now terribly exposed, like the French maid explicitly trying to entice the man of the house. Still, another advantage of this position was that she couldn't see Joseph seeing her. Out of sight and so a bit out of her mind. Nevertheless, her cheeks reddened as she realized how her other cheeks were being so wantonly displayed.

And Joseph fully appreciated his mother's presentation. She did have a superbly peachy bottom, even for a woman her age. Plus, when a woman bends over like that it makes the curves all the more taut and tight, as well as providing such an enticing display, as if she was in fact trying to draw the attention of the men within the room, offering herself to them like a submissive doe offering herself to a buck.

He admired how the strap of her thong disappeared entirely down within the crack of her cheeky buns. It looked like she wasn't wearing panties at all. Of course, she was, and that was evident by the fact that he couldn't actually see her cunnie, but still, the shiny pink satin was wrapped tightly around her feminine mound, and the sight of that was itself quite pleasing to the eye.

His cock swelled to full length, thrusting out the front of his pants. He wondered if it would be inconsistent with the therapeutic exercise to play with himself as he enjoyed his mother's little show.

"Why don't you help steady your mother, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein suggested, as Deborah was cleaning the large marble window seat below the bay window. "I think when she is bent over like that she might in fact lose her balance. After all, she is wearing heels as you instructed, and they can be pretty tricky sometimes, particularly on this thick carpeting. You wouldn't want her to get hurt, would you?"

"Susan!" Deborah again feebly protested, looking back around her body at her sister, giving her a look of annoyed frustration. How much should a mother do for her son anyway? But, she knew that more would be expected of her than simply cleaning the room wearing provocative clothes.

Joseph ignored his mother's protest and immediately got out of his chair to stride over to her, his dick pointing the way through his slacks.

When he reached his mother he grasped hold of her narrow feminine hips, reminding himself of the pleasure he had the previous evening, admiring her full, round womanly curves.

"Prop up her bottom with your hips, Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein instructed. "Press yourself right up against her. I think she needs all the help you can provide."

"Oh mother," Joseph groaned with pleasure as he felt his hard stiff dick press against her upraised, exposed, soft bottom.

"Oh Joseph," Deborah groaned with anxiety as she felt her son's hard stiff dick press against her upraised, exposed bottom.

Joseph did not need further instruction from Dr. Lowenstein. He softly, gently rubbed his cock around and around the tender cushions of his mother's sweet bum. It wasn't as intense as the previous evening's fuck, but dry humping his mother in the living room was still a very sensual and exciting flirtation.

Deborah's face turned a deep red, and it wasn't because it was relatively low to the ground. As she looked out onto her front yard and the street beyond, hoping against hope that nobody would happen by, she thought that her sister better be right about the therapeutic value of her son rubbing his erection against her butt!

Being the good mother that she was, or at least now wanted to be, Deborah reciprocated, pressing her soft bottom back against her son's hard cock and even circling it around and around.

"Oh, mother," Joseph sighed again. He realized that he did indeed have a very, very good mother. Not too many moms will give their sons a lap dance. He considered pulling his dick from his pants so that it would be skin on skin.

Reciprocating her son's sexual play, however, made Deborah even more concerned about being seen, her wiggly boobs readily apparent through the sheer blouse, her butt sticking back up against the crotch of her son, the two of them clearly doing something that should not be done between a mother and son, at least not outside the supervision of a professional therapist, and it was clear that her neighbors would not be aware of that important clarification, and might not believe her when she did eventually explain.

"Joseph, the window! My gracious, the neighbors!" Her eyes scanned up and down the street, searching for a sign that they might have been seen or were in fact being watched. This could perhaps be really going much too far.

Joseph though did not share his mother's concern. In fact, the possibility of being seen by someone in the neighborhood only increased his pleasure and fun. He held tightly onto his mother's hips and thrust his cock harder against her squishy sweet bum cheeks.

"Joseph, please, not here. Let me at least close the drapes."

"Just a bit longer, mother," Joseph demanded. Joseph had never gone to a strip club. He had never had a lap dance before, and he wanted this first one, this very special one, to have a happy ending.

"Oh my gracious!" Deborah suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a UPS man walking up their driveway. He must have parked just out of her sight to the right, behind the drape tucked into the edge of the window. She instantly stood up straight and stepped away from her son, hoping with all her heart that she had seen him before he had seen her.

The man smiled and waved to her as he approached, holding up the package to let her see that he had something for her.

Deborah waved nonchalantly in return, but then noticed the change in the direction of the man's eyes, down to her exposed breasts. A look of embarrassed shock swept over her face. She quickly covered her breasts with her hands and stepped off to the side, out of his sight.

Susan giggled at her sister's embarrassment.

Joseph looked away, not wanting to be disrespectful of his mother, but a little grin did appear on his face. He nodded at the postal delivery man as he walked past the window toward the front door. Joseph turned to his mother to say, "Well, you better get the door. I think you will probably have to sign for the package."

"What?! No! Not like this?! Are you serious?" Deborah could not believe that her son was suggesting such a thing. Maybe she in fact preferred him when he was more timid and submissive.

"Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein said, stepping in to momentarily support Joseph's budding assertiveness, "we do often extend a psychodrama into the real world. It makes the exercises considerably more efficacious and generalizable. I think Joseph's proposal is really quite excellent."

"Geez Louise," Deborah exclaimed, not believing what she was about to do. She could feel her face reddening as she made her way to the door, and then tried to at least appear calm and collected. It's not that easy to willfully negate the blushing of one's face, but it would probably help if she didn't appear so very cognizant of how mortified she really felt.

"Joseph," Dr. Lowenstein added, "why don't you go with your mother. It's not really familial therapy if you are not also involved."

The doorbell rang as Deborah was approaching, and with a deep breath of apprehension she reached out and opened the door.

She could see the eyes of the UPS delivery man widening in startled amazement at the sight of her so terribly exposed, large, white, wiggly boobs, the nipples distending her blouse like a couple of little bullets. It took all her moral strength not to try to hide them with her hands.

The deliveryman was momentarily speechless. He had delivered packages to women in bathing suits and bathrobes before. Some of them had also been wearing rather skimpy outfits, but never before had he in fact had a customer greet him with such a wondrously tantalizing display. It took all of his strength to wrench his eyes away from those two luscious tits to look her in the eye and say, "Yes, ma'am, are you Deborah Lowenstein?"

"Yes, yes," she replied impatiently.

Joseph stepped up behind his mother and reached down, beneath her skirt, to gently lay the fingers of his hand on her soft, sweet, round bum.

"Oh!" Deborah momentarily lurched in surprise, her breasts providing a brief but delightful little dance.

"Yes?" the deliveryman asked.

"What? Oh, no, no, I just there, for a second..." She didn't finish her sentence as she couldn't really come up with a good explanation for her exclamation, particularly as her mind was still distracted by the feel of her son's fingers exploring, caressing, cupping and patting the cheeks of her soft rounded bottom. "Um, yes, well, I'll take that, certainly," she said, with an evident confusion in her voice.

"Oh, yes, certainly, ma'am," he replied. He was feeling a bit flustered himself. He handed her the package, followed by the clipboard and pen for her signature.

Normally she would probably have handed the package back to her son, but its presence within her left hand provided an opportunity for at least some cover. She clutched it against her right breast, twisting her arm somewhat awkwardly to also try hiding the left breast as well. It wasn't real effective, as the package was rather small.

"Would you like me to hold the package, ma'am, while you sign the form?" It was a nice gesture of courtesy.

"No, no, it's fine, I can manage," but her hand trembled a bit as she felt her son's fingers slipping down between her thighs to feel the lips of her cunnie through her satin thong.

Joseph knew that his mother was feeling quite embarrassed by this, but he also noticed how warm, perhaps even hot, her cunt felt. He was also reminded of when his mother embarrassed him at the beach once, requiring that he change into his swim trucks right out in public. That had been terribly humiliating.

He wasn't doing this though to extract revenge, or at least he didn't feel like he was doing so consciously. Dr. Lowenstein eventually explained to him that psychodrama exercises will often awaken past traumatic memories, and it is through this recollection and conscious processing that the old wounds are healed.

His mind though did not dwell on that memory for long, as he was far more interested in the present: the wonderful feel of his mother's soft, womanly vaginal lips. He wondered if perhaps he might even be able to slip his fingers beneath her thong and into her cunt. It would be kind of nice to finger one's mother while she is conversing with a deliveryman.

Deborah could not help squirming as she felt her son trying to work his fingers beneath her panties, a movement which would only further confused the deliveryman as well agitate her boobs. She rushed her signature on the form and released her hands from the clipboard and pen as if they were hot to her touch. "Yes, thank you very much!" she frantically gasped, like she was in a desperate hurry to go to the bathroom.

"No problem, ma'am," he replied, smiling as he tipped his hat, but the door was largely shut before he even finished his response.

"Joseph!" Deborah exclaimed, as she twisted around to face her son, his fingers pulled from between her thighs. "That was so rude! How could you do such a thing! You should never try to stick your fingers in your mother's, your mother's..." She was having difficulty saying it, let alone letting it happen,"her vagina...young man, like that."

Joseph was nonplussed. Of course it was wrong. What had he been thinking?

Dr. Lowenstein had by now approached them. She could see that her sister was attempting to rebel against the reversal of roles, and it would be important to halt this disruption of the treatment before any regression occurred. "Joseph, are you going to let your mother speak to you in that manner?"

He turned to the doctor. "What? Um, well, no?"

"Of course not," Dr. Lowenstein replied. "Deborah," she said, turning her attention to her sister, "I believe a bit of disciplinary action is due. I suggest you return to the window seat and present yourself to Joseph for the spanking that you now clearly deserve."

"What?! Me?! I'm the one who should be spanked?! Are you crazy?" She really couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Neither could Joseph for that matter, but he did like what he was hearing.

"Now, Deborah," Susan spoke reassuringly to her sister. "I know that psychodrama can at times be a bit difficult. Patients will often resist, perhaps even rebel, but we have been making such good progress to this point. Let's not have it all unravel over a little spanking. Please, if you would." She gestured toward the living room with her right hand.

It would have been better if Joseph had held his ground himself but Dr. Lowenstein felt her mediation was necessary to get Deborah back into the role, to be reminded of the importance of all of this for the health and growth of her son.

Deborah reluctantly made her way back into the living room and up to the marble window seat, in front of the large open bay window. "Oh my goodness," she said softly as she bent over, her hands resting on the cold marble, her bottom again rising up for her son, this time to provide a spanking. Could there be anything more embarrassing than this?

Joseph had followed right behind her, a smile on his face, a very, very stiff dick in his pants. He positioned himself just to her left, a bit behind her. It wasn't really that necessary to raise her skirt as it was so short already. Half of her largely naked tush was already in view. But, a truly effective spanking did require that the skirt be lifted up and over the bottom, offering a more thorough and open presentation of the target of the discipline.

Joseph's smile grew wider as his mother's soft round womanly bottom came into full view. He was reminded of when he had to do this for her, so many years ago. It was indeed a true reversal of roles.

Smack!

"Joseph!" Deborah squealed in protest, but it was to no avail.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Her bottom was squirming and dancing left and right, her boobs waving and swaying beneath her. But Joseph did not let up.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Please! Enough!"

But, it wasn't enough for Joseph.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

He sometimes released his hand from her bottom, other times he let it briefly rest on her tush, enjoying not only the sight of the reddening derriere but also the feel of the soft warming cheek.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Please! Stop!"

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Sorry for what, mother," Joseph asked.

"For, for..." She wasn't actually entirely sure what she was sorry for. She might in fact be sorry for agreeing to participate in this psychodrama, the future health of her son notwithstanding. "For being upset with you."

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Upset over what, mother," he repeated.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

This was just so, so humiliating and wrong. "Upset over you trying to put your finger in mummy's cunnie."

Well, that was probably good enough. But a few more spanks wouldn't hurt.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Oh my gracious, Mrs. Hamilton!"

Deborah had caught the eye of Mrs. Hamilton, a neighbor from down the street. She was the head of the Badger City Garden Club, of which Deborah was a member. She was driving by and happened to glance at the Lowenstein house. Deborah wasn't sure if she saw anything. It was a bit of a distance to her window, but she couldn't help notice the surprised look on her face and the sudden, brief swerve of her car.