The two mothers changed and then did their morning exercises in Susan's nearly professional-quality basement workout room. Suzanne joked around and acted gaily to put Susan back in a decent mood. They were nearly done with their sweaty workout when Suzanne decided to bring up the topic of Ron again.
As Suzanne pedaled on an expensive exercise machine, she said, "Susan, I'm very proud of your decision with Alan. It looks like your new attitude has prevented things from getting out of hand."
"Thanks. I think it's all for the best, too," Susan said happily. "I know you keep saying what I did with him wasn't wrong, but it FELT wrong to me. And regardless of what Ron may or may not have done to me, I had no right helping Tiger out that way without Ron knowing. And there's no way I could bring it up with him - no way. So the only solution is to leave the medical treatment situation in your capable hands."
Suzanne furrowed her brow, dismayed at Susan's conclusions. She thought, I haven't been hyping Sweetie up ever since Ron called to say he was coming back home. I need her to resume obsessing about his cock. She's gone cold. It's gonna take a while to get her back into a sexual heat.
Suzanne pretended to agree. "That's very wise. I'm glad it all worked out." But then she lowered the boom. "Just one problem though. Have you seen Sweetie lately? How he's been behaving?"
"I think I'm aware of my son," Susan said defensively. But then doubt crept in, and she asked, "What do you mean exactly?"
"Have you seen how much he's suffering? I imagine you haven't, 'cos he's been trying to hide it from you, brave soul that he is. It tears me up badly to see him suffer silently like he does."
"Suzanne, what on Earth are you talking about? He seems perfectly fine to me."
"Yes, he can be a good actor, can't he? He looks fine on the outside, but inside he's dying."
"Dying?!"
Suzanne explained as she pedaled, "I've had my suspicions, but he confided in me and now I know how he really feels. Since you changed the atmosphere around here, I'm afraid you may have gone too far. You killed the spirit of sexiness, so now he's demoralized, just like when he tried and failed to go out with Christine. You remember how he gave up trying to do his thing for days. But unlike then, he's still trying to do his thing six times a day. What a brave trooper."
Susan was extremely dismayed. "Haven't you been helping him? Wait! I don't want to know... No, I'd better know - it's my responsibility as his mother. Oh God, tell me, but please don't tell me the details!"
"Have you seen his chart lately?" Suzanne asked, referring to the chart on his door marking the number of times he climaxed in a day.
"No," Susan admitted. "To be honest, I've been keeping out of his room altogether just to avoid having to look at that chart. I want to put all reminders of ... what happened ... out of my life."
Suzanne could tell when Susan was lying or not, because she was a lousy liar. She knew that Susan was telling the truth about not seeing the chart lately, which gave her the freedom to exaggerate about the results. "It's terrible, Susan, just terrible. He barely manages. It's been plummeting down on a six, five, four, three, two, one, zero trajectory."
Susan asked with great alarm, "Haven't you been helping? Everyone calls you the real-life Jessica Rabbit. Certainly you can stop that slide, can't you?"
Suzanne sighed as if the weight of the world was on her. "I've tried, I really have. But to be honest, I haven't been able to help that much. How can I, between Ron being here, and not wanting to offend you, and not wanting to violate the new restrictions you've created?"
That was mostly true, but now she lied blatantly, "It's growing tougher and tougher each day. It takes him forever to get hard, and longer still to ejaculate. He's in his room an hour or more sometimes, just trying to get erect. He tells me the porno videos and magazines you bought have done little for his inspiration, since he feels like he's failed in the real world, first with Christine and then by upsetting you. I stroke and stroke and stroke, but sometimes I can barely keep him stiff."
Susan clutched at her chest for some reason. "Don't you... don't you, use your mouth?"
"Of course! I suck and slurp and lick like his erection is the tastiest ice cream cone in the world. And in a way it is. I engulf his great fat cockhead and bob over his sweet spot so much that my jaw simply can't take it anymore. And naturally I never stop stroking the rest of his shaft at the same time, unless it's to fondle his balls. Remember how I taught you to do that, and the way he really likes it?"
"Um, I do, but I..." Susan was so frazzled by the suddenly highly arousing turn of the conversation that she was having trouble remembering her resolve to put that kind of help behind her.
Suzanne sighed again, perhaps a bit too theatrically. "I bob up and down on his fat, long slab of hot and tasty meat like some kind of horny woodpecker. And you know I have a pretty unique tongue?"
"Yes?"
"I use that in every way I know how, licking from tip to base and back again, over and over, slathering his balls with my love, and just generally acting like some kind of wanton big-titted mommy slut! Of course, I kneel naked before him, letting him know that he has all the power, and I'm helpless but to serve him. But it's no use!"
Susan asked, "Do you wear high heels?"
Suzanne responded indignantly, "I'd be naked without them!" But then she chuckled, and added, "Of course, around Sweetie, I'm usually naked with them."
Susan couldn't help but giggle at that, despite her grave concern.
Suzanne concluded, "Sometimes even I can't get him hard at all, no matter what I try."
"Oh my! I had no idea!" said Susan, who suddenly felt both very horny and very worried. She thought back to her run-in with Alan the night before. She admitted, "But, um, last night, I was in the bathroom just across the way from his room, and I heard him, and even, uh, saw him. And he had no trouble ejaculating, I can tell you that!" She blushed as she recalled his cum squirting all over her body.
"How could you have seen him from inside the bathroom?" Suzanne pried.
Susan blushed a deeper red. "Um, I was, uh, I heard him cry out, and I thought he was in pain, so I rushed in, and, well, he was doing his thing."
"You mean he was jacking off?"
Susan nodded slightly.
"All by himself? That's extraordinary! I can't tell you how difficult it's been for me to arouse him at all lately. He must have been thinking about something incredibly stimulating. What did he yell out exactly?" Suzanne was hyping up her comment because she had a sneaking suspicion that he'd been thinking about Susan, and Susan knew it.
Susan turned away and replied so quietly that it couldn't even be called a whisper.
"What was that?" Suzanne asked.
Susan answered a tiny bit louder. "Something about me."
Suzanne was only able to catch that from watching Susan's lips. "Did you say, 'Something about me'?"
Susan dropped her head in shame and nodded almost imperceptibly.
Bingo! Suzanne thought. I love it! But she maintained a serious face. "Ah. You see? If there's one thing that gets him aroused no matter what, it's thinking about you. That's not terribly surprising. Everyone knows that it's normal for boys to fantasize about their mothers. But when a boy has a mother built like a brick shit house-"
"What does that mean, exactly? I don't understand that expression. Why compare a woman to a, er, commode?"
"It just means a woman who's fit and shapely, like a building put together as solid as a brick wall, and it usually implies having a great rack. But my point is, with you acting sexy and providing visual stimulation, he can easily get in a sexy mood, and I can help him or he can help himself without much problem. But when you act like you have been lately, almost nothing can inspire him. Of course Ron being here just makes it twice as bad. Frankly, we may have to give up on his treatment altogether."
"Oh no!"
"I'm afraid so. Maybe no man is meant to climax six times a day. Certainly that would be an impressive achievement for a married man or someone with a serious girlfriend, but can you imagine how it must be for someone who still hasn't even kissed a girl? To do it every single day? We'll have to talk to Nurse Akami, but I don't know how much longer he'll be able to go on falling far below his daily target. Perhaps he'll have to stop the treatment and take the other option. You know, the pill treatment that will give him breasts like a woman, God forbid."
"Oh no! Anything but that!" Susan moaned in extreme distress. Both of them had long stopped their pedaling, in response to the seriousness of the discussion, but they remained on their exercise machines. "What can we do? We can't very well have things like they were before. I was out of control, Suzanne. Honestly and completely out of control. If Ron knew what I did last Tuesday, I think I would just die! I mean, it went way beyond helping. I really loved it! I'd be lucky if he didn't divorce me. And I'd like to help with some visual stimulation if it's really that important to my cutie Tiger, but how can I? With Ron here, we can't make things even a little bit sexy. He'd find it really bizarre to see me dress up for no reason. I don't want him to start asking questions. I already feel like I've committed a crime and have to cover it up. How horrible!"
"I know, I know. It's bad," Suzanne commiserated. "But there's always a solution. The problem is with you and this house, right? What if I took care of him from time to time some place outside the house? One session where I get really sexy could keep him going for days."
"I don't know," Susan said more than a little bit doubtfully. "I appreciate the offer, I really do. But..." Susan began to fish for objections - "what we really need to do is find him a true girlfriend. You don't want him to think of you as his de facto girlfriend, do you? After all, you're a married woman too, and twice his age!"
"I know. Don't remind me of either of those facts - I don't know which one I dislike more. But Sweetie's on the edge of disaster. We need to get him to climax six or more times a day, and fast! Preferably more, to make up for his recent drought. There's no chance of him finding a girlfriend who can help with something like that in a matter of days. So what can we do?"
"I don't know," Susan replied, still beside herself with worry. "Let me think about it. I'll think about your offer, too. But I hope there's another solution."
"So do I," Suzanne lied. "It's not like I want to be catering to him hand and foot in this weird way. I mean, his great big erection is just so hard to conquer. I lick and suck and suck and lick, and stroke, stroke, stroke. If I'm lucky, I get rewarded by a hot, sticky bath of his creamy cum all over my face and chest. But even then, I feel like his cock has conquered me!"
Susan held her breath, overwhelmed by a surge of arousal.
Suzanne pretended not to notice. "In the meantime, if you could be more supportive, that would help."
Susan nodded gravely. "And bless his soul, he's been trying to hide his suffering from me. What a trooper he really is!"
Suzanne was a bit surprised that Susan didn't accept her suggestion to meet Alan outside the house.
The real reason Susan didn't like that idea was that she felt possessive. In her heart of hearts she still wanted to be the one to whom Alan would turn first for a cocksucking or handjob, and she didn't want him to develop a strong crush on Suzanne.
This clashed completely with her renewed morality, but she unconsciously felt that way just the same. And she had a concern that with Suzanne and Alan getting sexual outside the home and with no one to drop in on them, they'd be fucking before long.
That, in fact, was Suzanne's exact plan. But Susan was now so desperate to find a way to help with Alan's "crisis" that she seriously considered letting Suzanne have her way with him.
Now that the topic had been broached again, Suzanne made it a point to resume mentioning Alan's penis at every possible opportunity. She was still talking about it in mostly non-sexual terms while discussing his "crisis," but at least it had Susan thinking frequently about it again.
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