To say that having my entire summer holiday plans wrecked was annoying would have been a vast understatement; I was fuming about it and what was worse was the fact that I couldn't really blame anything but fate for it. It was one of those ironies of life that could not be helped, but as a 15 year old I felt that it was all aimed at me personally.

What had happened?

Simply, my mother, who I loved very much, had managed to break her leg right before the school holidays. She came out of hospital the day before school broke up with her leg in plaster and instructions to keep off her feet for a few weeks. Since my father had long gone, I was an only child and we hadn't the money to pay for a home help the choice of 'nurse' was extremely limited. I suppose I could have called one of the few relatives I had, but since most of them were well past 70 it seemed to me that I'd spend as much time looking after them as I would looking after my mother.

So I was 'it', and I was not at all happy about it. My summer plans had been made well in advance, they'd involved time away from home in the company of friends of both sexes and were aimed at getting my virgin leg over. Now those plans were in tatters and I had a summer of work ahead of me. Of course my mother wasn't too pleased about the situation either, every time I did something for her she'd apologise to me and look depressed. I think what was worst for her was having to use a bedpan, which the hospital had 'kindly' provided it embarrassed both of us.

A week into the holiday's things came to an abrupt head when Mum took the bedpan, put it under her, had a pee then spilt the contents of the pan as she tried to get it out from under her.

"Oh DAMN!!! Damn, damn, damn!!!" I heard her shout as I waited outside the bedroom door.

I went into her room quickly to see what was wrong; she looked at me with tears of frustration and embarrassment in her eyes as she explained what had happened. Sighing I lifted my mother out of bed and placed her on the dressing table chair then turned to the bed. Quickly I stripped it and sighed with relief when I found that the spill hadn't been that bad, about the only evidence on the actual mattress was a small damp patch. Nevertheless I had to wash off the mattress then turn it over before I could remake the bed; all the while my mother sat fidgeting in her damp nightdress and muttering under her breath. With the bed at last made I went to the dresser and took out a fresh night-dress for my mother, she took it from me, looked at it then back at me.

"I need a wash!" Mum declared with force, "I'm not lying there covered in my own piss! It's over a week since I had a wash and I feel dirty and sticky!"

I wondered how we were going to manage this feat since my mother could only stand on one leg, which was not ideal for a shower, and was under strict instructions not to get the cast wet so a soak in the bath was out. The only thing left seemed to be a bed bath and I knew Mum had had enough of them in hospital, on the way home she's sworn never to go through that indignity again.

"But Mum how...?" I started to ask in confusion.

"I don't know!" she snapped before I'd finished, "You work it out instead of just standing there uselessly!"

Her words upset me, especially after all I'd had to do for her so far, add to that all the housework I'd had to do and I felt hurt by her angry words. I think she must have realised that her comment was out of order because she put her hands to her face and wept.

"I'm sorry Tom," she said, her words muffled by her hands, "I shouldn't lash out at you. I know how much you've done and that I've spoilt your summer holiday."

There was nothing I could say in reply so I kept my mouth shut, at the same time I tried to work out a way for her to have a wash. While I thought I was looking in my mother's direction, unconsciously I let my eyes rove over her, noting the wetness where her nightdress had taken the bulk of the spillage and the swell of her breasts against the material. Two things happened at the same time, one was me coming up with a possible way to let my mother have a wash, the other was a sudden realisation that looking at my mother was exciting me. Chiding myself mentally for getting turned on I left the room and went down to the kitchen; delving into the kitchen cupboard I grabbed a bin liner then made my way back upstairs to my mother's bedroom. She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes as I re-entered the room.

"Tom, please don't be angry with me." she said softly, "I didn't mean what I said."

I was confused for a moment before it dawned on me that she thought my non-response and leaving the room had been to do with her calling me useless, though it had hurt I knew it was her frustration that had been speaking. Shaking my head I held up the bin liner.

"If we wrap this around the cast it will keep it dry." I said, "It would be best if you had a short soak rather than a shower though."

"You marvel!" Mum laughed in a sudden swing of mood, "Wouldn't a shower be better though, it would take less effort."

"Can you balance for that long on one leg?" I asked.

"I'll have to." She declared, "Come on, get that thing on my leg!"

Crouching down in front of my mother I slipped the bin liner onto her foot then started to roll it up her leg, as my eyes rose I was greeted by the sight of my mother's panties, gulping I tore my eyes away and focussed on the bag. Even then I found myself feeling a growing excitement as I got the cast covered then tied the bin liner closed around her upper thigh. It was the feel of her warm skin under my hands that caused the excitement in me, but I did my best to ignore this as I helped my mother to stand. Using me for support my mother hopped towards the bedroom door, eager to get to the bathroom, then, without warning, she stopped.

"This is no good." she sighed.

"Why?" I asked in puzzlement.

"I need to get undressed" she sighed again, "and I won't be able to get myself into the shower once I do."

"Well," I answered after a moment of thought, "why don't you get undressed, wrap a towel around you then I'll come back in to help you into the shower."

So we adopted my idea, I helped Mum hop to the bathroom, parked her on the toilet with a bath towel to hand then left the room. A few minutes later I heard her call out to me and I went back into the bathroom to see my mother perched on the toilet with the towel wrapped around her. Although the towel covered her form from boobs to knees I felt excited by the larger expanse of flesh on display above the towel. Getting my eyes sort of under control I helped my mother into the shower stall and got set to leave the room, only things weren't going to work out quite as planned.

"Oh lord." Mum gasped as I closed the shower door.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I forgot how slippery the tiles were," she sighed loudly, "I don't think I will be able to stand up for long."

God knows why, but I suddenly remembered a similar situation from a film on TV, the film itself had been rubbish, I couldn't even remember the title.

"Uh, Mum," I said hesitantly, "if we leave the door open a little you could lean on my shoulder."

I may have felt hesitation about making the suggestion, my mother certainly had no hesitation about taking up the idea; I think she was so desperate to feel clean that she would have said 'yes' if I'd offered to get into the shower and hold her up. So in the end I stood outside the shower like a lemon with my mother leaning quite heavily on my shoulder while she stood under the spraying water. Although I had my back to her I felt very much aware of the fact that my mother was stark naked only an arms length away from me, in fact I felt a faint stirring in my cock as the minutes passed and I felt shocked at myself. Then I happened to raise my eyes and found myself staring at the bathroom mirror, what I saw had my cock doing more than make faint stirrings. For the very first time I noticed that you could see the shower in the mirror, in the foreground was myself, but behind me I could see my mother and part of her body. Gulping I ripped my eyes away from the mirror, but I could not get the image of my mother's left boob and pert nipple out of my mind. By the time she got round to turning the shower off my prick was like a poker in my trousers. Feeling ashamed of myself for getting excited by my mother I handed her the towel over my shoulder then, once she'd wrapped it around her, helped her to the toilet.

I left the room so that she could dry off and change into the clean nightdress, it was at this point that I realised that I hadn't given her a clean pair of panties. Willing my cock to go down, uselessly I might add, I called out to my mother and asked her if she wanted me to get her some panties.

"Don't bother," she called out, "I can put some on when we get to the bedroom."

A few minutes later Mum called out that she was ready and I went back into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet looking fresh, clean and cheerful, the clean night-dress had been the first that had come to hand and seeing her in it made me wish I'd taken the time to choose a different one. I had just about got my cock back under control when I re-entered the bathroom, but one look at the semi-sheer nightdress changed that in an instant.

"I feel so much better." Mum smiled as I tried not to stare at the shadow shape of her boobs.

Shaking inside I helped her to stand then acted as her support back to the bedroom, it was not a long journey, but I was very aware of my mother's nakedness under her skimpy night-dress throughout. At last I had her back on her bed; by that time I had only one thought in my mind, to get to my own room and jerk-off!

"Don't you think you should take the bin liner off?" Mum asked as I turned to leave.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I had." I muttered as I turned back to the bed then knelt down in front of her.

That was a big mistake, as my mother lifted her plaster encased leg the night-dress opened and I had a clear view of her bare pussy, for a moment I stared at her pussy, taking in the sight of her pouting lips and the short hairs surrounding them. Then I pulled myself fully together and fumbled at the bin liner in and effort to get it off. It was almost impossible to keep my eyes from drifting back to her pussy time and time again, and my hands shook as I worked the black plastic off the cast. At last though I was able to make my escape and as soon as I was outside my mother's room I dashed for my own. I was barely inside my room when I fumbled open my trousers, pushed my hand into my pants and started to wank. It took only a few strokes for me to shoot my load; I'd never felt so excited before.

Leaning against my bedroom door I gasped my way towards recovery before stirring myself to get out of my now wet and sticky underpants. It took a moment or two to clean myself up somewhat and another few moments to change into some clean underwear, but by that time my cock was once again hard. Slipping out of my pants I lay on the bed, wrapping my hand around my cock I slowly began to wank again, in my mind I was seeing my mother's boob and pussy and though I knew it was wrong I could not help using my mother's body as my fantasy object. It was the most amazing wanking session I'd ever had, thinking about my mother's body and imagining the things I would do to that body had me hornier than I had ever been before; as I built to another climax I felt my whole body burning with lust. The moment was shattered by my mother's voice calling me, guiltily I got dressed quickly then, with my cock aching as it lay crushed in my pants and a frustrated lust inside me, I made my way to my mother's room to see what it was she wanted.

"Yes Mum?" I asked as I put my head around the door.

"Tom I need to pee," she answered, "and bad."

"Okay, I'll get the bedpan." I sighed.

"Don't you dare!" she retorted, "After today's fiasco I refuse to use that thing again. If you help me to the bathroom I can go to the loo properly."

Once again I found myself acting as a support as I took my mother to the bathroom and once again I was all too aware of her nudity under her flimsy covering. Parking her on the toilet I went outside and waited for her to finish; when she called I helped her back to bed. This time when I turned to leave my mother asked me to stay and talk to her, all I really wanted to do was get back to my room and get my hands on my boner, but I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to keep her company. To be honest my mind was not wholly on talking, thankfully Mum was more than able to talk enough for both of us and all I needed to do was nod and comment occasionally. As the time passed I found myself looking more and more at my mother's breast-line, staring at the outline of her boobs where they pushed at the thin material of her nightdress. At first I was not positive that I could make out the shape of her nipples, but gradually they seemed to become more distinct. It was almost as though they had grown, either that or my imagination was running amok.

"Tom," Mum said into a momentary silence, "would you be a dear and rub some oil into my back?"

"Pardon?" I asked coming back to reality with a start.

"Some oil, could you rub some into my back." She repeated.

I remembered that the hospital had suggested rubbing baby oil or something similar onto my mother's back to help prevent chaffing and bed sores, though this was the first time my mother had asked me to apply it. Even as I rose to get the bottle of lotion from the dresser my mother was wriggling out of her nightdress and rolling onto her stomach. Returning to the bed I pushed the bedding back to her waist and gazed at the creamy expanse of her back thus revealed, I swear my hands shook as I squeezed some oil onto her shoulders and began to rub it gently in.

"Mmm, that feels nice." Mum hummed happily.

Slowly I worked my way down her upper back, dripping a little oil onto her skin then rubbing it well in before moving on. The smooth silkiness of her skin under my hands was doing nothing to relieve the sexual tension I was feeling, quite the opposite, it made it a hundredfold worse. Nearly cross-eyed with excitement I finally reached my mother's waist, after rubbing the oil in I sat up and looked longingly at my mother's bare back. I'm not sure what the hell came over me, but I reached down and rolled the bedding down to my mother's knees, I held back a gasp at the sight of my mother's bare buttocks and gazed longingly at her exposed pussy. Dribbling oil onto her lower back I started to rub my way downwards slowly and gently stopping only to add a little more oil as my hands worked their way down onto the swelling globes of her buttocks.

"Mmm." Mum hummed dreamily.

I'm not sure my mother was really aware of where my hands were or that she was opening her legs even further giving me both greater access and an even more breathtaking view. Trembling all over I ran my hands over her upper thighs, rubbing oil into her skin on both legs then moving both hands to her unfettered leg and continuing my downwards massage. Pushing the bedding completely off her I massaged her calves then her feet working the slippery oil deep into her skin. Putting the oil aside I continued to massage my mother, slowly working my hands back up her body until once again I was rubbing her upper thighs on both legs, my eyes glued to her pussy as it opened before me. With slow, firm movements I massaged every part of my mother's thighs that I could reach, then, expecting my mother to shout at me, I let the backs of my hands rub against her pussy as I continued my massage. To my surprise and joy the only noise Mum made as the backs of my hands pressed and rubbed against her pussy lips was a low hum of enjoyment. Her reaction made me more daring, gradually I let my thumbs stray from her thighs to her pussy, and pressing them in between the pouting lips I gently rubbed them along her inner flesh.

"That is so relaxing." Mum sighed dreamily.

It may have been relaxing for her, but for me it was exciting, so much so I thought I was going to cum in my pants. As the minutes passed I became ever more daring until the point came that my hands left my mother's thighs to stroke her pussy lips, parting and spreading them to reveal the pink moistness of her pussy to my hungry gaze. When I pressed a finger to her hole my mother seemed not to notice or object to what I was doing and for some minutes I stroked her pussy under the guise of giving her a massage. Even when I let my fingers slide a little way into her wet hole my mother made no objection, no comment and no motion to indicate that she had even noticed what I was doing. Then, after almost ten minutes of my caresses, my mother stirred, she slowly started to turn over and I guiltily took my hands from her pussy.

"Do the front now Tom." Mum breathed as she settled herself onto her back and closed her eyes.

I could not believe it! Not that I was about to question her request for one second! With an eagerness that would have shocked me if I had thought about it I dribbled oil onto my mother's upper chest and started to rub it in, my hands slowly working down to the swell of her breasts. A few moments later I dripped a little oil onto the upper swell of each boob and placed my hands on those gorgeous mounds, slowly, so as to savour each slide of my hands on her flesh, I began to rub her pliant mounds with my eyes riveted to the course my hands were taking. For ages I rubbed, pressed, stroked and even squeezed her boobs while my mother lay with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips; when I started to rub and squeeze her nipples the smile just grew. I was in seventh heaven as I played with her tits, nor was there any way to pretend that I was doing anything other than playing with those wondrous orbs, and still my mother made absolutely no move to stop or even hinder what I was doing.

Eventually I moved on, pouring a little oil and rubbing an area of skin lustfully as I headed down towards her pussy again. When my hands began to rub on my mother's pubic mound I was half expecting her to stop me going any further, but she made no move and no comment other than a low hum of pleasure. The whole situation was unbelievable, so much so I thought for a moment that I was actually dreaming what was happening. If I was dreaming I didn't want to wake up!

Slowly I worked my hands downwards and as before I gradually eased open her pussy lips to let my fingers stroke the warm, enticing inner flesh revealed. As I ran my fingers over her flesh they passed over a small mound at the top of her pussy, each time my fingers touched on this mound my mother would let out a sigh and her legs would open a little wider. After a while it dawned on me that the small mound was my mother's clitoris, with that knowledge I let the fingers of one hand linger on her clit while the other pressed to her wet hole. Daringly I let one of my fingers slip into her pussy while I pressed on her clit, mum gave a little gasp then moaned and with this as encouragement I slid more of my finger into her.

Within me the excitement had reached a fever pitch, I could feel my cock twitching and straining in the confines of my pants. It felt so hard that it was almost painful and I knew that in a very short time I would be shooting my load into my underpants. With the growing pleasure I was feeling I became even more daring and added a second finger to the one sliding in and out of her pussy and as I finger fucked my mother openly she was responding with low moans and gentle movements of her hips. Then suddenly she gave a little gasp and a long low moan, her pussy tightened unbelievably around my fingers as it pushed up on them and her whole body trembled. In a surge of excitement I realised that my mother was climaxing from my attentions, with a low groan of my own I shot my load into my pants in one long burst of bliss as I climaxed as well.

A few minutes later my mother reached down and gently moved my hands from her pussy, reluctantly I moved my hands away then went to stand up, I was increasingly aware of the damp, sticky discomfort of my cooling seed as it soaked into my underpants. Much to my surprise my mother patted the bed indicating that I should sit by her so I sat down again a little further up and twisted so that I was looking down at her happy smiling facing.

"Why don't you get comfortable?" she asked in a low voice.