She dragged in a huge lungful of air as she felt him peeling back the fleshy hood over her clitoris. "AGHHH!" Her lips leaped.
Danny winced but continued his exploration, feeling the slopes and rubbing the tip of the tiny lump.
"Ah! Ah!" Helen's hips writhed and she swung them from side to side.
Danny took his hands away and straightened again. She saw beads of perspiration on his upper lip and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "That was your clitoris, then," he said.
"Yes!" she panted. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold still. That's the most sensitive spot a woman has, Son."
"It's okay. I could see it pretty good. It's awful little, though, isn't it?"
"Yes. It does swell, though. It's like a man's penis."
"Yeah?" He glanced down at her pussy again. "Thanks, Mom. That gets the old stuff out of the way."
"Old stuff?"
"Well, you know how they are in school. They do all the stuff they call 'basic' first. Like anatomy in this course. And then there's a lot of jazz about how a baby develops and gets born. After that, they separate the class. Mr. Duffy's got us guys now. He's going into the stuff about marriage relations. I really need help seeing what he's getting at there!"
Helen stiffened. "Like what?" she demanded.
"Like stimulus centers and reactions."
She heaved a sigh of relief. She'd visualized his wanting to explore the mechanics of insertion. "Well…" she hesitated. "That's going to be tougher, Son."
"How come?"
She knew if she let him experiment in the techniques of stimulation, she wasn't going to be able to maintain any semblance of calm. It was barely possible she might lose control of herself, altogether, and grab him in her passion. She couldn't let herself forget that strange inner excitement she sometimes felt about him. On the other hand, if it was legitimate for him to examine her as he had, it was surely as legitimate for him to see for himself how various sensual centers could be used to affect the woman's responses.
"Sex stimulus affects involuntary nerves," she said slowly. "I know I couldn't cooperate right. There's a natural effort sometimes to interfere – the sensation's just too strong to take, even though it's wonderful."
Danny nodded, his face clouding with disappointment.
"Look, Danny," she said impulsively. "What time is it?"
He glanced at his watch. "Three."
"All right. There's time and there's a way. Run back to my room and get two or three pairs of my nylons."
Danny scowled, perplexed, then shrugged and turned. Helen smiled through her turmoil to note that he literally ran. In a moment, he was back with a handful of her stockings. He still showed no sign of understanding.
"I don't get it, Mom."
"I know. The problem is my being able to stay in one place so you can keep at a spot long enough to find out what it does."
"Yeah," he nodded.
"There's only one way to be sure of that. Tie me in the right position."
His eyes widened and he stared at her incredulously. "Tie you?"
"It's all right. It won't hurt me, and you can go at whatever speed turns out to be right. But you'll have to realize I'm going to act differently from what you've ever seen me do before."
"Okay. How shall I tie you?"
"Better get my hands out of the way, for one thing." She extended her arms as if she meant him to spread-eagle her.
Danny quickly lashed her wrists, securing the stockings from each to one of the table legs. She trembled.
"We'll want to finish before five forty-five," she reminded him. "I want to be presentable by the time your father gets home."
He stared at her. "That's a long time!"
"A lot more than you need. I just don't want you to get preoccupied and forget what time it's getting to be."
"Okay!" There was awe in his tone. "Gee! I can really take my time!" He looked hungrily at her tits and she winced. "What next? I've got your hands."
"Well, I'd certainly try to clamp my legs together."
"Oh! Okay!" He knotted a stocking around each of her thighs, at the knee, and fastened the loose ends to the table legs, spreading her crotch tautly. Without consulting her, he then used a third pair of her nylons, looping them on her ankles and, to her amazement, running the free ends to her shoulders, where he tied each to an upper arm, pulling her heels against the sides of her butt-cheeks.
"Danny! My goodness!"
"Well, that'll keep you from moving your knees much."
She laughed shakily. "I can move my feet, though."
"How?"
She raised her feet and realized there wasn't enough length in the hose to let her move them more than a few inches. "I take it back," she mumbled. "They aren't going anywhere."
"Do you mind if I talk to myself once in a while?" her son asked.
"No."
"What if I forget and use the wrong word?"
"Don't worry about it, Son. Concentrate on one thing at a time."
He grinned and came to her side. "I know this isn't going to seem right, Mom, but Mr. Duffy said the lips were the first zone."
"Mmph! Well, all right."
He took her face between his hands and bent close, touching her lips with his. The first contact was light and dry, no more erotic than their customary good-night kiss. But his lips worked on her's and the pressure increased and their mouths got wet. Her son's kiss was transformed by some alchemy she made no effort to understand to that of a lover. Warmth seeped through her and she let her lips part, touching his with her tongue tip. His tongue darted out to meet her's and then drove into her mouth. She gulped and began to suck. Like a symbol for a penis! she thought. Even if it is just his tongue in my mouth, he's got part of him inside me! My own son! The conscious admission at a moment when sexual desire was making her writhe horrified her. She tugged at the nylons and whimpered in her throat. She was writhing sensually by the time Danny raised his mouth from hers.
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "That works!" He flushed. "On me, too."
She Lanced at his trouser-front and saw that it was tented.
He's got a beautiful cock, she thought. I know he has! It was beautiful when he was little. Pride surged in her and she had an irresistible longing to see what kind of man her son was becoming. "Danny, did Mr. Duffy say anything about visual stimulus?"
"Yeah. He said men got a lot more excited looking at things than most women."
"That's true, I think. When a man's doing things to her, though, seeing his body stimulates her."
"Yeah? It does? Hey, okay if I get undressed, then?"
"Yes." She tried to shake off the guilty feeling that washed over her.
Danny shed his clothes with adolescent awkwardness. She studied his body. He had fine shoulders, as she already knew, and his belly was flat and hard, more like a man's than a boy's. His hips were narrow and taut-looking and his cock stood proud and thick. Circumcised – because the doctor had spoken of cleaning problems and the danger of infections – the head was a great, meaty bulb, very dark with its charge of trapped blood. The shaft was frightening in its diameter; she guessed it was considerably thicker than her wrist and knew it was far bigger than either Art's or Barry's.
That's his Indian half, she thought with a thrill of pride. But, God, could a woman really take that?
Danny returned to the table and bent over her again. When he did, his cock rested on it, rigid and hard-looking. He played with her boobs, squeezing them gently, massaging them, and experimenting with her nipples. She had no idea how much of her mounting excitement resulted from his manipulations and how much from her painful awareness of the situation. Regardless, desire flamed in her and she lashed about on the table, her hips rocking from side to side and her pussy pulsing with eagerness.
Danny ran his hands over her body, fingering her curies with a smile on his lips. "Duffy says there's lots of secondary centers all over the body," he remarked. "Someday I'll learn more about them on you. Right now, I want to be sure I see what the primary ones do." He went back to her crotch.