Helping Stepmother (Translation)

Word count: 7895
Original text: stepmomneedshelp
Translation: taxman
"Tom!"
I woke up suddenly when I heard someone calling my name. I sat up straight in bed, unsure if this was reality or a dream. When I heard my name a second time, I jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway to my stepmother's door. Carrie, my stepmother, was calling for help from inside.
"Carrie, what's wrong?" I asked.
"Tom," she said calmly from inside, "I... well, I need some help."
"Okay, wait a minute," I said, trying to open her door, but it was locked from the inside. "You locked the door."
"I know," she replied, a hint of distress in her voice, "Could you get some tools to unlock it?"
I was puzzled. Why did she need me to unlock it? Couldn't she open the door herself?
Carrie married my father when I was ten and he passed away when I was thirteen. She's my only family, and we have a close relationship; we share everything in life. My mother died when I was very young, and I was raised by my father. I never experienced maternal love until he married Carrie.
From the beginning, Carrie was like a friend and confidante, not a strict mother. She was there for me through my rebellious teenage years and the pain of losing my father. Now I'm twenty-two and have just finished my college degree. At this age, I'm still single and haven't found a girlfriend. I'm trying to save money to improve our lives and also to help Carrie manage the house. Carrie has been single since my father passed away.
"Okay," I said, returning to Carrie's door, "I need a little time to open this lock."
"Hmm," she said, sounding relieved, "but that's only part of the problem."
"Tell me about it, I'm all ears," I said, examining the lock. It was an old lock; a slight push with the smallest screwdriver on the spring in the lock cylinder opened the door.
"Um, I..." She paused
, then said, "I can't explain it. You'd better come in and see for yourself!" Her voice sounded strange, as if she had something difficult to say or was mocking herself. A few minutes later, I unlocked the door smoothly and slowly pushed it open.
"Don't jump to conclusions before you come in," she said.
I paused. I remembered when I was eighteen, Carrie suddenly appeared. She was just tidying up my clothes, while I was engrossed in browsing porn. When she opened the door, she immediately called my name because I was only wearing a t-shirt and passionately masturbating.
The timing was too coincidental; in the moment of my shock, I also reached orgasm. I tried to hide my embarrassment, but my penis kept gushing semen like a fire hydrant. She turned away from my embarrassment and laughed.
In the chaos, my semen sprayed onto my t-shirt, the chair, and the floor, and my orgasm was ruined. She tossed me a towel behind her, and I wrapped myself in it before she turned around. She apologized for not knocking, glanced at the mess, and said, "I won't jump to conclusions," before leaving the room.
Months later, she caught me red-handed again. I was masturbating in her bathroom when she walked in, just as I finished climaxing. She gasped and laughed, then turned and left. Just then, she saw me, looking embarrassed, trying to hide something.
"The latest Playboy?" she asked with a laugh. I had already tucked my penis into my shorts, my hands still wet with lubricant and semen. Her eyes swept over the shelf and spotted her black bikini—the strapless one she often wore when swimming in our pool—splattered with my semen on the bikini and the bathroom counter.
"Is that why I wash so many clothes?" she mused, then looked at me. "I won't jump to conclusions, but please clean my bathroom counter." Then she left the bathroom. Since then, "not making judgments" has become a joke between us, but also a code related to sex.
This is the second time she's used "not making judgments" to defend herself. The first time was about a year ago when I received a package from online shopping. Because I didn't notice the signature on the label, I opened it before she could intercept it. I found a rabbit vibrator inside. She awkwardly snatched it from my hand, told me our code, and left the room.
Now, as I opened her door and walked into the dark room, I wondered what she was up to. Carrie's room was so dark, but I could see she was sitting on the bed. Just as I was about to turn on the light, she stopped me.
"Wait," she said, my finger hovering over the light switch. She continued, "Seriously, I won't make judgments."
"You've caught me masturbating a few times already, how embarrassing is that?" I asked. We always talked about the pleasure of masturbation because we always talked about everything: "I mean, this won't be worse than last time, will it?"
"This time it's terrible," she said, interrupting me.
"How bad was it?" I asked.
"Worse than the vacation two years ago," she said.
Two years ago, Carrie and I went camping with friends, sharing a small tent. Everything was fine at first, until the second night when I started to get restless. I couldn't sleep, and as usual, I decided to relieve my sexual tension.
Carrie was lying next to me, seemingly asleep. We were lying face to face, her black tight-fitting t-shirt clinging to her breasts, and her shorts, which were incredibly short, were a sight to behold. I moved as quietly as possible, pulled down my shorts, and released my penis, slowly and carefully masturbating.
I had always fantasized about every woman who could arouse my desire, and Carrie was no exception. She was the incredibly hot stepmother my friends often talked about. Carrie was a 30-year-old mature woman, but she was hotter and sexier than a 20-year-old girl, and I found myself fantasizing about her frequently while masturbating.
In the small tent, I stared at her breasts and thighs, slowly masturbating so as not to wake her. The pleasure intensified with the slow, gentle strokes, and soon my penis was about to erupt. Instinctively, I closed my eyes, waiting for the quick release.
The moment the semen gushed out, I remembered my stepmother was sleeping beside me. I opened my eyes, and in my terror, the second wave of semen shot onto her undershirt, then a third, a fourth… I tried to shoot further away, but the rest landed on her thighs. She stirred in her sleep, and I held my breath, waiting for her to wake up, but she didn't. After I finished, I turned my back to Carrie and fell asleep, utterly exhausted.
The next morning, when I woke up, I saw Carrie sitting beside me, staring at me. In a panic, I realized I had thrown my pants in the corner; I was half-naked, and Carrie was sitting right next to me.
"Did you sleep well?" she said with a sinister smile.
"Oh, I… um, I just…" I said, trying to change the subject, reaching for my shorts, but she grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
"You were masturbating right next to your stepmother?" she asked, pointing to her undershirt, which was stained with streaks of semen.
“Listen, I…” I tried to explain, but she raised her hand to stop me.
“I was awake,” she said. “I wanted to sleep, and then the second I opened my eyes, I saw you… well, having sex. And then a few seconds later, you came, spraying everywhere.” She pointed to her thigh.
“I’m sorry,” I said, but I didn’t dare look at her. I wasn’t scared, because my father was dead.
She patted my knee. "It's okay," she said. "This is a small tent. I know you're trying to relieve stress; I've been there. I know you masturbate a lot. How many times have I caught you?"
"Many times," I said with a laugh. "It's a little embarrassing, sitting here naked talking to you about this, especially last night when I sprayed you all over."
"I don't think you did it on purpose," she said simply, as if the matter was settled. "I'm not angry, and this isn't the first time someone has sprayed me while I'm sleeping."
I looked up, and she laughed. "And sitting here, I've already seen your lower body."
"It feels weird, sitting here talking like this," I said. "I usually cover it up, laughing it off and saying 'don't jump to conclusions.'"
She laughed. "Yes, if you feel uncomfortable, you can always put your shorts back on, or..." As she spoke, she unhesitatingly pulled up the hem of her t-shirt. I watched as the t-shirt was pulled up, then wrapped around her breasts, which sagged naturally without the t-shirt's restraint.
She had already taken off her t-shirt completely, quickly tossed it next to my shorts, and sat down beside me, topless. "Wait a minute," she added, then lifted her buttocks and quickly pulled down her shorts, sitting naked next to me as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"See? There's nothing to be embarrassed about, we're just sitting naked in the tent." She looked down and saw my erection.
"Sorry…" I muttered, embarrassed by my erection.
"Oh my God," she said with a laugh, "no need to apologize, I don't want to spell it out, it's normal, especially when a naked woman is sitting next to you, at least you know it's normal."
"But you're my stepmother," I said, trying to rationalize it.
"Yes, I'm a stepmother with semen stains on my legs," she said. "Don't worry, I don't want you to think that taking care of your needs is incomprehensible, it's normal. So, listen, I'm a little tired, I don't want to waste the whole morning on this little thing, so I'm going to lie down here, like this…" She lay down beside me, her back to me. I looked at her buttocks, feeling my penis harden further.
"I'm going to relax a bit, let you lie there and take care of your erection, then we can go hiking.
So you just do what you're supposed to do and pretend I'm not here."
"Hmm, that's a little difficult," I said.
"I can leave," she said playfully, "or stay. What do you choose?"
"Stay," I said.
I lay down next to her, looking at her smooth back and full buttocks, with tan lines on them. I clumsily grabbed my penis and started stroking it up and down. She lay motionless with her back to me, and I silently masturbated beside her.
"You know," she said calmly, "the first time someone ejaculated on me, they thought I was asleep. It was exciting."
I stroking faster, and she continued, "Now, you've seen me naked, and I think I can be naked like this at home all the time... It feels so comfortable."
I increased the frequency of my stroking, feeling my pleasure approaching. This time, I planned to turn around and ejaculate on my stomach, but Carrie said to me, "Just this once, I'll allow you to ejaculate on me."
Those words pushed me to the edge of ecstasy, and I erupted. I aimed at her buttocks, and thick waves of semen gushed from my penis, splattering her buttocks and flowing down her cleft. It was a huge gush of semen, and I was surprised by the amount of the sticky fluid flowing down her buttocks and into her sleeping bag.
"Okay," she said, "if I'm naked at home sometimes, you can't sneak into my room and masturbate while I'm asleep. Last night was just an accident, don't get any ideas."
"Okay," I said, still recovering from the ecstasy. She stood up, wiped the semen off her black t-shirt, put on her shorts, then a sports bra and a new t-shirt, and left the tent, leaving me exhausted and confused.
As I turned on the light switch, my mind raced back to what had happened. Whatever it was, I thought what I was about to see would be more exciting than what I'd seen in the tent. Of course, since the tent incident, I've seen her naked many times. Sometimes, she swims or sleeps naked in the pool, and I usually join her in being naked. Each time, the exposure excites me, forcing me to take care of myself.
I turned on the light, letting my eyes adjust to the brightness. "Oh my God," I said.
"Just do me a favor," she pleaded. At that moment, Carrie was sitting on the bed, topless, her lower body covered by a blanket. After a while, I realized why she was sitting on the bed; she was handcuffed to the headboard.
"Carrie?" I asked, puzzled.
"Don't jump to conclusions," she said, blushing and embarrassed. "Yes, I handcuffed myself to the bed. I lost my key, so that's how it is. Let me out."
"How did you handcuff yourself to the headboard?" I asked.
"I did it on purpose. Usually, the key to these handcuffs is on my bracelet… but it's missing today."
"Do you usually have the key?" I asked, smiling. I also looked at her breasts; they were so captivating.
“Yes, usually,” she sighed, “it’s embarrassing.”
“Let me help you,” I said, walking to the bed and looking at her handcuffs. Sure enough, there was a bracelet on her wrist, but the key was missing, and her wrists were red from the handcuffs.
“Maybe it’s behind the headboard?” I suggested.
“That’s just my guess,” she said, shrugging.
I took a flashlight from my toolbox and shone it under the bed. “Is this something you usually do?” I asked.
“No,” she sighed, “I don’t know… Can we be honest here?”
“Haven’t we always done this?” I called from the floor, still searching for the handcuff key.
“Okay, aren’t you tired of masturbating the same way every time?” she asked.
Since her father’s death, I knew Carrie hadn’t gone out to see other men, and I knew she owned at least one vibrator. Her masturbation was no secret, but hearing her talk about it made my penis hard.
“Yes, I’d like to change things up,” I replied.
“Me too,” she said. “So I do it every now and then.”
I stood up. “The key isn’t on the floor. Do you think it could have fallen into the sheets? I’ll search the sheets. But… well, how can you masturbate with your hands cuffed?” I asked.
She paused, then sighed and said, "Because you need to check the sheets. The truth will come out eventually, and there's no point in hiding it. Come on, take off the blanket!"
I gently pulled the blanket down, slowly revealing her flat stomach. Then, to my surprise, her vibrating bunny was deeply inserted inside her. "Wow!" I exclaimed, then moved the blanket away. Carrie had bound her legs with a belt, sandwiched the vibrating bunny between them, inserted it deeply, and then handcuffed herself to the bed.
"The belt prevents the bunny from slipping out," she explained, her face flushed.
"So, you just turn it on..."
"Stick it in until the battery runs out; it takes a little while," she said, her face turning even redder.
I stared at the exposed part of the vibrating bunny; her labia tightly encased it, and her usually trimmed pubic hair was completely gone—it must have been plucked.
“Okay,” she said, trying to sit up. “Hurry up and
find the key for me.” I started groping under her, my hand repeatedly brushing against her buttocks as I searched.
“Why not touch it?” she joked.
“I’m not,” I protested.
“Okay, I can tell from the little tent in your shorts that you’re happy to do this,” she laughed.
“Hey, if you don’t want my help,” I joked, “I can change the batteries and keep you happy.”
“Don’t joke around,” she groaned, “too much stimulation, around two in the morning, my stimulation limit has been reached.”
“Still no key,” I said, “I think I can cut the handcuffs.”
“Okay,” she said, “but this is really uncomfortable, can you help me first?”
“Sure,” I said, picking up a pillow to put behind her back for better support. But she shook her head. “No, not like that. I need you… um, to unbuckle my belt and… take out the rabbit.”
“Oh!” I said, understanding her meaning. She blushed, and I stopped looking at her.
"This is the most embarrassing moment of my life, naked and handcuffed to the bed, with a vibrator shoved inside me, and my stepson having to come and rescue me."
"Oh, I won't say more," I said. "It could have gotten worse."
"I don't know what happened," she said.
"At least no one can easily tell if you're aroused."
"Oh, you know, I don't care if you have an erection," she said.
"An erection is very uncomfortable in this situation," I said, while trying to unbuckle her belt.
"Then take off your shorts," she said, "to free it, because it'll take a while to unlock it."
"Are you serious?"
"I've seen it before, Tom, just to make myself comfortable, because I can't let you run off to masturbate while I'm stuck here. You can't leave until I'm free from this bed."
"Okay," I said, shrugging. I took off my shorts to let my throbbing penis breathe; it was erect, throbbing energetically.
"Now that you've freed yourself from your shorts, quickly unbuckle my belt and take that thing off me."
She closed her eyes, lay down on the bed, and I unbuckled my belt. As I helped her spread her legs, the rabbit slowly slipped out of her body.
"Do you need me to help you get it out?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "it's stuck, I'm too tired to push it out."
Excited, my fingers touched the vibrator, and she took a deep breath, then tilted her head back.
"So, I just pulled it out forcefully?" I asked.
"Slowly, don't pull hard."
I pinched the exposed part of the rabbit and slowly pulled it out, but it just wouldn't come out.
"It's stuck," I said, my hand still holding the vibrator, "Should I try twisting it?"
"Do whatever you want!" she said, closing her eyes.
I gently moved the vibrator back and forth, starting with a few millimeters and gradually increasing the distance until I could move it away completely. Carrie gasped as she felt the rabbit slowly slide out of her body. As the rabbit slid out, I watched the changes in her labia as they gripped it tightly. When it was almost out, I paused and joked, "Are you sure you don't need new batteries and some privacy?"
She laughed, which allowed the rabbit to slide in another inch. She gasped again, and I held the rabbit firmly as I inserted it into her body. She lay flat on the bed to make it easier for the rabbit to enter. My hand remained steady, and my eyes were wide open as I watched the vibrator slowly sink into her body.
After a while, she said, "That's enough. Please pull it out completely." Her eyes were still closed. I slowly pulled the rabbit out of her body, and her vagina slowly closed, returning to its original shape. The rabbit was now covered in her vaginal fluid and became very smooth. With her eyes closed, I carefully touched the fluid on the rabbit and then tossed it aside.
“Okay, I’m going to cut your handcuffs.” I knelt on the bed to examine the handcuffs. “Good news, I think I can pry them open, that should save some time.”
“Thank you.” She sighed, her eyes still closed. I was pleased because my erect penis was dangling in front of her as I tried to pry open the handcuffs.
“This is so strange,” she said, her eyes still closed as she tried to relax. I finally made her feel more at ease after I removed the rabbit from her. “I’m glad you’re so understanding.”
“Hey, it’s my duty to serve such a cool beauty like you.” I said, glancing at her breasts. “So, Carrie, why the handcuffs?”
“Oh, I don’t do bondage games,” she said, “but I enjoy the thrill of being handcuffed. I think this might be the last time, because I don’t want my stepson to rescue me again.”
“I’d be happy to help.”
“Actually, you just like seeing me naked, don’t you?” she said reproachfully, opening her eyes to find my penis right in front of her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I can leave…”
“No,” she said, “no, no. I’m fine.” She didn’t say anything, but her eyes were fixed on my penis. Several times I felt her breath on my penis as I moved closer to her mouth.
“The handcuff chains are almost broken,” I said, “just one more minute.”
She tilted her head forward and quickly licked the head of my penis, which surprised me greatly.
“Carrie! You…” I said in surprise, and she looked surprised as well.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “it’s a natural reaction. I’ve done oral sex while handcuffed many times.”
“I thought you didn’t like bondage,” I said, my hands trembling and my head spinning a little.
Two years ago, in that tent, I had seen that same longing look in Carrie's eyes.
Then she licked my glans again: "It's so hard, you can't possibly focus on cutting the handcuffs with an erection, can you?"
She licked my glans again and again. I put down my tools, instinctively moved closer to her, and thrust my penis into her mouth. Without hesitation, she immediately began sucking on my penis. I naturally thrust my hips, filling her mouth.
I was making piston-like movements in her mouth, and she seemed to enjoy it; it was all so erotic. Looking at the handcuffs, her swaying breasts, the intermittent sucking sounds and moans, I could only try my best to hold on until the very end, but soon I felt I was about to give up.
I started thrusting faster, semen gushing from my penis, flooding her mouth. Without hesitation, she took my penis into her mouth, her lips tightly enveloping the glans, causing me to spasm and ejaculate in her mouth. Eventually, her mouth couldn't hold any more semen, and it suddenly spilled out. She gasped, letting the semen and saliva flow onto her breasts.
After the climax, I sat on the bed looking at Carrie, her body covered in saliva and semen, her chest heaving like a slut who had just been fucked.
She smiled at me: "Now, quickly unlock the handcuffs."
I picked up the tools, trying to unlock the handcuffs quickly, my limp penis brushing against her face, the last drop of semen dripping from the glans onto her shoulder. As the handcuff chains were cut, Carrie lay on the bed, groaning, her face covered in semen.
Suddenly I noticed the key on the bed. "The key!" I said, snatching it and uncuffing her wrists. "Too bad I didn't see it earlier..."
"Yes, you were just busy stroking my ass. Don't worry, I sucked your thing too." She rubbed her wrists and said, "My arms hurt terribly, my wrists are red and swollen, and my genitals look like I just came back from rabbit hell. Tom, help me clean up."
I helped her up, but her legs were weak and unresponsive, so I had to half-carry, half-lift her to the bathroom.
"Help me," Carrie whispered in my ear. After helping her into the bathroom, I cleaned her body at her direction. Her genitals were so sensitive that she almost jumped up every time I touched them.
Finally, I dried her off. "Are you alright?" I asked.
"I'll be fine, I feel much better now." She leaned forward and French kissed me. "Actually, I think something big is about to happen."
"How could that be?" I asked with a grin.
"We don't need to worry too much. This afternoon, we'll go buy a new set of handcuffs."
"This time, we need padded handcuffs," I suggested.
"They absolutely must be padded," she said with a laugh. "It's a pity I'm in so much pain down there right now, otherwise…would you like your stepmother to give you another blowjob?"
I pulled her closer and kissed her fiercely. "Hey, don't jump to conclusions."
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Helping Stepmother (Translation)

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