Mommy & Bobby, Part 3

“Feel better, honey?” I ask him, already the stench of his filled diaper is filling the air between us.

He nods. “Mmm, so much better, Mommy.”

“Did you do number two in your diaper?”

Another nod. He used to be a bit sheepish about admitting this. But no longer. “I did, Mom. It felt so good. Just couldn’t help it.”

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy knows. Did you go number one as well?”

A third nod. “Uh huh.”

I smile. His voice, usually so strong and powerful, has taken on a soft edge, reminding me of how he used to speak when he was first learning to talk. It’s all a part of Bobby’s weekly regression. I climb off of him. “Well, in that case I think it’s time to change you.”

“Yes, Mommy.” He is eager to turn over. Something about being so exposed and having to rely on me for every single need arouses my son very much. I must admit, it’s very enjoyable for me as well.

I take my seat next to him on the bed again. He has his legs spread and somehow we lost the pacifier in the journey back from the living room, but he makes due with his thumb instead. I reach for the plastic tabs on his diaper and peel them back, before following through with the front flap of his diaper. His cock, still hard as a rock, springs up quickly, away from the thoroughly soaked folds of the front of the diaper. The scent of his bowel movement is stronger than that of the urine, though, and I reach for the box of baby wipes again. Cleaning his cock and balls makes Bobby shift and writhe and I urge him to lift his hips so I can clean him up. He’s got quite a load in the back of his diaper and it takes me a good ten minutes to clean him properly. The old diaper is slid out from under him. I slide a new one into place but with Bobby’s legs spread wide open as they are, I can see his anus opening and closing, winking rapidly at me. I glance up at his face and he removes his thumb from his mouth.

“Oh Mom…” He groans and I hear him grunting softly, his anus open now and his hips working. This happens often. For some reason, the act of cleaning him will usually trigger another bowel movement or else it will trigger his bladder to release. Tonight it seems to be the former. His legs are already spread, but I work his knees back gently, until the front of his thighs are pressing nearly to his chest, his feet lifting into the air, his balls and cock displayed prominently between his wide open thighs. Once I have him positioned, I gently take hold of his stiff cock, which makes him moan loudly.

“Mommy… ohhh…” He calls me again and then shudders.

“Mommy’s right here,” I reassure him with a kiss to his forehead, squeezing the thick back of his cock and holding his swollen balls up and out of the way. I massage them gently and this makes him squirm, his hands lifting to gently squeeze my breasts through the bra. I continue to speak softly to him my own voice slightly husky with the arousal that has been awakened in me by seeing my son like this. “Come on, honey. Be a good boy and push it out for Mommy.”

“Mom… uuuggghhhh….” He grunts and strains. “I can feel it….” With that he moans and then grunts again, softly. I can feel him pushing, bearing down, as a soft brown log begins to slide free of his opened anus, oozing out of him and dropping heavily onto the fresh diaper beneath his ass. Bobby moans again and I praise him. ”

“Good boy. That’s it.”

His cock throbs in my hand and I continue to stroke him, finding a steady rhythm with the firm grip of my fingers. His cock has been leaking precum for some time now and he’s been saving up for this for a long time. He usually doesn’t have sex or masturbate for a full 24 hours before he comes to my house on Thursday afternoons. That way he knows the orgasm will be much
more powerful, much more pleasureable, and much more exciting For both of us.

He is so turned on by what has just happened that I know it won’t be long. He is groaning loudly now, head lolling back and forth on the pillow as his hips writhe, arching up off the bed. My other hand milks his balls as lovingly as his cock. He trembles, shuddering hard, and I can tell before he warns me that the moment is upon him. “Ohhhhhh Mom… I’m gonna cum….”

“I know, baby, it’s okay…” I croon softly, my fingers never slowing for an instant, not even when he cries out loudly and that first powerful spurt of cum bursts from the tip of his swollen cock. His entire body is locked in a spasm of orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut against the pleasure reeling off of him. Bobby cums and cums and each blast sends a thick white ropeof his semen splattering over his chest and belly until he is coated with it. He groans the entire time, nuzzling his face against my breasts and I murmur to him, my hand squeezing the base of his shaft, coaxing out each drop of it.

We cuddle for a few moments afterwards and I tell him what a good boy he is. How proud I am of him. He murmurs words of love against my breasts and will often work his way into my bra to nurse at my nipple a bit. After a few minutes, I clean him up again and leave him on the bed while take his dirty diapers out to the trashbin. When I come back, we head into the
bathroom, where I draw him a long hot bath. He sits in the tub while I bathe him, washing every part of his body from head to toe. I even shampoo his hair. Sometimes I will join him in the tub, sitting behind him so that I can reach around his tall frame and stroke my hands along his chest and belly while his back presses into my breasts. He always enjoys it when I carefully wash his cock and balls and use a washcloth on his anus, penetrating it with the tip of my finger in the process. Sometimes he will even shoot another load into his bathwater, depending on how turned on he is. All I know is that bath time is always special.

After the bath, it’s usually time for Bobby to leave. I will help him dress and re-enter the world of the adult. I walk him to the door, fixing his tie for him, and kiss him goodbye before telling him to drive safely. When I close the door and watch him go, I always feel a bit melancholy but I know we always have the following Thursday. And in between, I get to use
my memories of those special nights with my son to fuel a week’s worth of sexual fantasies that will keep me satisfied.

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