"Jack," Sue called from the bathroom. "Can you come here for a minute?" Jack rose from the TV chair and sauntered over to the bathroom door, trying to watch the football match as he walked away and inevitably shouldered the corridor wall. Muttering quietly he pushed the bathroom door ajar and called out: "What's up Mom?" "I need a hand in here," she called back desperately. The previous afternoon, while driving home from work, her car was hit by a rogue four wheel drive. She lost control after the impact, drove her little car into a power pole, and broke her right arm. Although she was covered in seat belt bruises, she escaped otherwise unhurt. After an overnight stay in the local hospital Sue had been allowed home again with her arm in a bulky plaster cast. Jack, who had enjoyed his eighteenth birthday just days before, was horrified when the police rang to tell him about the accident and raced over to the hospital. His father worked interstate and would not be home for at least four months, leaving Jack as the "man of the house". He sat by his mother's side for most of the night before returning to bring her home next morning. He entered the bathroom, looking bashfully at the floor. Sue sat in the steaming bath, her broken arm resting on the edge to keep it dry. A tear trickled down her cheek from the frustration of trying to make do with one hand. Her left arm was so badly bruised that she could not rise from the bath without assistance. Taking a fresh towel from the rack, Jack gently covered his mother's shoulders. He slipped out of his sneakers and stood in the bathtub behind his mother, encouraged her to trust him with her weight, took her under the arms and gingerly helped her to her feet. She groaned as her bruised torso straightened up, but having finally made it, tried vainly to cover herself with the towel. Her son still gripped her tightly to help her over the edge of the bathtub. Slowly she raised one leg over the edge, leaning back for balance as she did so. Jack's hands moved slightly forward, touching the sides of his mother's breasts. As she painfully stepped clear of the bath, she could feel the unmistakable hardness of Jack's growing erection against her back. Jack was embarrassed by his involuntary erection. He had never thought of his mother in a physical way. She was... well, she was his MOTHER. He also realized for the first time that his mother was a very attractive woman, despite reaching almost forty years. Her body was taut, her breasts were firm and full. Hell, she was a VERY attractive woman. She was also dripping wet, and in her present condition, there was no possible way she could dry herself. Jack tried to allow her to preserve some modesty by taking a second towel from the rack, and approached his mother to dry her down. Neither spoke a word. The son's nervous anticipation and the mother's anxious embarrassment made communication difficult. Jack had never seen his mother naked before. "Don't worry Mom," he finally whispered. "I'll dry you off in no time." She smiled wanly at her son. He was really coming through for her now she needed him to take control. Jack started from the back of her neck, toweling briskly down her back, her buttocks and legs. He worked his way around the front of her legs, skipped her pubic area completely and rubbed her stomach gently. For a long time he just quietly rubbed her belly, uncertain what he should do next. Clenching his teeth, he moved the towel upwards, gently massaging the underside of his mother's breasts. Her eyes shut tight. Her head hung back. Her damp hair cascaded down her back. She could not believe the reactions coursing through her body. The broken arm and the bruises were banished from her consciousness. Her entire being was focused on the firm and gentle hands working on her breasts. Her nipples betrayed her. They hardened against the roughness of the towel at each gentle stroke. An eternity passed. Still no word was spoken. Jack's breathing was ragged. His erection was now plainly obvious in his board shorts. His eyes followed his hands, taking in the beauty of his mother's body, flinching each time she flinched when he touched a raw bruise. The first towel slowly slipped from her shoulders, finally falling to the floor. Jack reluctantly moved upwards from his mother's breasts, to her neck and finally patted her face dry. Tears flowed freely down her face, but she made no sound. Her embarrassment gave way to confusion as she tried vainly to understand the emotions which filled her mind and the wonderful sensations which flowed through her body. She felt no pain now, just the ecstatic joy of her son's gentle touch. Her response, though quite involuntary, was becoming obvious. Her nipples stood firm, and her juices oozed down her inner thighs. Jack patted the tears away and spoke softly to her. "It's ok Mom," he assured her. "The pain may be bad now, but it will soon get better." "Jack, my darling," she stammered. "If only it was the pain from the car crash..." She reached across her body to grasp the towel, and quickly patted dry the area her son had missed. She knew that she needed Jack to dress her again because it had taken forever to remove her clothes before the bath, and she still ached from the strain. Jack anticipated her need, and gently draped her gown over her shoulders as he took her damp towel. He led her from the bathroom and ushered her into her bedroom. The clothes she had worn from the hospital still lay on the floor. "Stay there a minute," he commanded. "What clothes do you want?" She stopped by the bed and pointed out where he could find her underwear, a winter blouse and an old-but- comfortable tartan skirt, reasoning that her choice would make it easy to dress and undress. Jack systematically selected the clothing she specified, placing everything neatly on the edge of the bed. She stood quietly where he had left her, shoulders hunched, her good arm clutching the robe tightly around her, shivering and sobbing quietly. "Oh, Mom, you're cold." "Not really, Jack. I'm more embarrassed than cold. I wish you had not seen me like this. I'm so sorry to be asking you to do these things for me." Jack took his weeping mother in a big bear hug and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, tasting her salty tears. "You silly thing," he admonished her. "You didn't ask to have some Looney force you off the road, and you certainly had no control over getting your arm broken. Now stop worrying. In a few days the bruising will be gone and you will be able to look after yourself again. In the meantime, I'm going to make sure you are properly cared for. Now stop feeling embarrassed. You know you don't have anything which I haven't already seen on most of my girlfriends." Although she guessed that Jack probably had experienced sex with his girlfriends, he had never spoken about it or acknowledged it in any way until now. Visions of her baby boy slowly evaporated as she pictured him with his latest girlfriend. Jack got down to business, now feeling fully in control of the situation. The sexual tension he felt before vanished as he concentrated on the simple task of dressing his mother. Selecting her pink panties, he stood before his mother, allowing her to keep her modesty by leaving the gown on. She placed her good hand on his shoulder for balance, lifted one foot and then the other, letting Jack slip the panties up her legs, separating the gown as he moved up. As her pubic hair came into view, it was obvious that she was very wet. At first it never occurred to Jack that the cause was anything other than bad drying, so he apologized profusely for not drying her properly and rushed off to the bathroom to pick up a towel. She had not moved when he returned. Her gown hung slightly open, her bush in full view, and her panties hung just above her knees. It was while he was drying her off that Jack began to realize that his mother's wetness had nothing to do with bath water. "Why, Mom! I think we have a little problem here," he mocked. "Have you been thinking naughty thoughts?" Sue hung her head, shamed by his discovery. How could she tell him that being held and dried off by her own son had been a gigantic turn-on for her? Her breasts still tingled from the toweling and she longed for more. Her reverie was broken by her practical son. Putting aside any feelings of embarrassment, he simply pushed her legs apart with one arm, and used his other hand to briskly towel the damp insides of her thighs until they were dry, working the towel firmly into the folds of her vaginal lips until he was sure that they too, were properly dry. Sue squirmed, hating the wonderful sensations which wracked her body. As Jack dried her off, she whimpered very slightly, biting so hard on her lower lip to stifle the sound, that she actually drew blood. Trying to keep her body still while it was being so deeply aroused was almost impossible. Her hips thrust imperceptibly at each of her son's towel strokes, but he gave no sign that he had noticed, finally pulling her panties the remainder of the way up and releasing the waistband with a snap so that she squealed. He laughed with her, reaching for the bra. "This could be tricky Mom. I'll do my best not to disturb your bad arm." Casually casting her robe to one side, he carefully held the plaster cast, removed the support sling and slid the bra strap over her injured arm. That accomplished, he replaced the sling and worked her other arm into the other side. She marveled at his gentleness. Her bra hung from her shoulders, and Jack was now preparing to ease her left breast into its cup. A terrible self conscious feeling overtook her now that she realized that he was about to handle her breast and would clearly have to notice the erect state of her nipples. She bit into her lip again and looked down. Jack hesitated, took the breast in one hand and brought the undergarment up to it with the other, repeating the process with the other side, and moved smoothly behind his mother to secure the snap fasteners. If he noticed her nipples at all, he was too much a gentleman to say so. The intimate work was over, and both of them relaxed as Jack methodically helped her into the blouse, draping it over her plaster cast, and belted the skirt around her waist. She thrust her feet into her slippers, sighed deeply and smiled in relief. "Come on Mom, it wasn't THAT bad," he teased. She pulled a face at him but didn't reply. Why couldn't she simply ask him to remove her clothing again? Her aroused nipples felt as though they were burning. Her panties were already soaked again. She followed him meekly back to the living room and accepted his invitation to sit. Her eyes followed him across the room as he prepared her a snack and a coffee. For the remainder of the day, they made small talk in front of the TV. Jack kept his mother amused with a string of anecdotes about college life, country trips with his football team, and so on. Sue had one bad experience during the day, when she found out how hard it was to reach around to her rump with toilet paper. The pain from her bruised arm was excruciating, but she was determined not to call for Jack's help in this most intimate of tasks. For much of the day she dozed, aware of her son's close attention as she drifted into the twilight of half waking, half sleeping. Jack saw his mother in a completely new light. For the first time in his life, he saw her as a sexual being. He marveled at her shapely legs, barely covered by the loose fitting skirt, and the rising and falling of her breasts as she breathed. She was, he realized, a very beautiful woman. How could he not have noticed this before, he wondered idly. Her eyes opened slowly, trying to focus and finding her son gazing back at her. They smiled at each other as they made eye contact. "I think I'd better go to bed, Jack." "Yeah, Mom, me too." He walked to her chair, and held his hand out to help her to her feet. She tried to rise, but her aching body refused. She looked pleadingly at her son. "I'm sorry, Jack...." She started. He cut her off with a finger across her lips, then gently reached under her arms to help her from the chair. She cried out as he took her weight, but he was strong enough to easily bring her to her feet. He held her in a tight embrace, making little comforting sounds to ease her pain. Sue clung to him helplessly. Her legs felt rubbery and her upper body was almost numb. Easing himself carefully to one side, Jack placed his mother's good arm over his shoulder and carefully stooped to lift her without placing undue strain on the broken arm. She winced as he straightened up, but he made the journey to Sue's room without apparent effort, negotiating the doorways without contact. Gently he laid his mother on her bed and considered his next move. He had to get her upright again, even if only to peel back the bed covers. He should really change her clothes also. Reluctantly, he helped her into a sitting position, inwardly sharing her pain. He pulled back the covers, and unbuttoned his mother's blouse. He removed the blouse and the skirt, speaking to her gently all the while. "My nightgown is under the pillow," Sue volunteered. Jack unsnapped the bra and as he removed it from his mother, he realized that with her plaster cast on, there was no way he could dress her in a nightgown. Sue was starting to emerge from the pain and almost giggled at her predicament as the realization hit her, too. "I'll just have to sleep topless tonight, Jack," she smiled. She looked at him earnestly. He was mesmerized by her breasts, watching them move as she moved, marveling at their beauty. A deep purple bruise stained one side, a legacy of the seat belt which had protected her from further injury in the crash. He reached out and gently traced his fingers over the bruise. Sue flinched at the initial touch, but as Jack pulled his hand away she said: "It's ok Jack, it didn't hurt. I was just a bit surprised, that's all." She took his hand and returned it to her breast, watching his strong fingers gently trace the outline of the bruise. She shuddered slightly as his fingers ventured further, tracing a circular pattern which came ever closer to her nipple. All the exquisite feelings of pleasure she had felt earlier in the day returned with a rush. Sue felt no pain any longer, but a longing for those probing fingers to reach her burning nipple. Jack stopped suddenly, supporting his mother's back and lowering her gently onto her bed until her head rested on the pillow. He started to pull the covers over her when she took his hand again. "Don't go." "Mom, we don't know where this will go. You need your sleep. I really should leave you now." Please, Jack. Stay with me a little longer." Her grip on his wrist tightened and he weakened. "OK," he agreed. "Just for a while." Sue felt relief. For just a moment, she thought she'd lost him. She was afraid this moment might never be recaptured, and slowly, quietly, placed her son's hand back on her bruised breast. His finger tips resumed their gentle journey, outlining the bruise, slowly working toward the nipple. She flinched as his fingers finally touched their target, and feared that he might stop again. Jack saw her reaction and hesitated, uncertain whether to take her flinch as a sign to stop. He slowly worked his first two fingers over the nipple, feeling it harden slowly under his touch. He rolled it, gently at first, then increasing the pressure until he pinched it between finger and thumb. Sue murmured unintelligibly as he cupped her other breast. Sue shifted slightly to turn towards him and give her son better access. He leaned forward and kissed the nearest nipple gently, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger. She groaned in appreciation. Her eyes closed, and she pressed her head back deeply into the pillow. Jack let his gaze wander to his mother's face. Her lips were parted. She looked serene. He leaned over her and kissed her, gently at first, and responding when she opened her lips to him and let her tongue work its way across his teeth. She felt his mouth on her nipples again, sucking at them, tugging at them, tearing them from his hands as he roughly pulled her breast from his mouth. Feelings of pleasure she could not remember radiated from her nipples through her whole being. She felt her moist panties clinging to her as her juice flowed freely, and longed to feel him inside her. Jack knew there was no going back. He had lost control of the situation a long time ago and knew it well. The beautiful woman responding to his touch was not his mother any more, she was the sole object of his love and attention. His hands glided down her bruised body and slowly eased her panties down over her feet. Gently, very gently, he let his hands wander up the inside of his mother's leg, feeling the smoothness, pressing it towards him and slowly spreading her open, then down again to her feet, and repeating the process with the other leg. His hand came close enough to her pussy for him to feel the hair, but always stopped and worked its way down again. Sue was whimpering with frustration. One of Jack's hands had returned to her nipples, alternating from one to the other, while the other had slowly worked her legs open so wide that her pussy was gaping. She was so wet that her juices had marked the sheet. She moaned constantly as Jack worked her over, grinding her hips up to meet his hand as it approached, but never making contact. He was still dressed, his baggy shorts and ageing tee shirt covering his raging hard-on. Despite her frustration, Sue sensed that Jack was uncertain about the next move. She was nearing desperation. Painfully, she reached forward with her good arm and tried to drag Jack's shirt off. It was the confirmation he needed. In less than a second his clothes were flying across the room and he carefully moved forward to kiss his mother again. "Aww, Mom," he murmured as he pressed his lips to her. "I love you so." She shifted slightly towards him, longing to reach down and touch him, but unable to do so. Instead, she held his mouth to hers, and slowly worked her lower body across until she was almost underneath him. She felt his hardness against her leg, spread even wider than before and breaking the kiss, moved to position herself so his cock could enter easily. "Are you sure Mom?" he queried anxiously. "It's not too late, you know." They both knew he was lying. His body weight was already moving as he spoke, and they felt his cockhead spreading her wet cuntlips to enter her. He tried to move slowly and gently, but Sue could wait no longer. With a triumphant cry, she thrust her hips forward to meet him with all her might, burying his shaft into her right to the hilt in one savage thrust. She screamed as the pain from her arm hit her. Her sudden move shifted the plaster cast. Jack heard her cry but for him there was no turning back. He withdrew slightly and slammed his cock back into his mother's womb with equal savagery. She grunted as she received him, moving her own hips to meet him, shutting out the pain. They rode each other wildly, thrust for thrust. The day's build up guaranteed that their climax was not far away. Jack felt it coming. "Uugh, I'm cumming Mom!" he roared. "Give it to me Baby," she screamed back at him. "Give it to me now. Give it to me NOW!" There was no pain now, but only fulfillment. Each lover reaching to the other, thrusting, begging, receiving, giving, crying until both crashed over the peak of their orgasms, spent and trembling. The cum boiled from his loins as he pumped it into his mother. She felt his sperm enter her, felt it spraying deep into her womb, reveled in receiving it from her beloved son. Jack lowered himself gently to his mother's good side, cradling her head as he kissed her again. "Mmmm," she murmured. "This is great therapy, Jack. I don't think my arm will ever mend." He snuggled up against her and held her close, wondering how he could have lived with this woman all his life without realizing until now just how deep their love for each other could be.