Do mothers ever groom their children? You never hear about it but i cannot escape feeling as though mine did. It was just me and her my father was never in the picture. My earliest childhood memories, what few I have, from preschool years at least, are of being in a shower or sometimes bath with her. Her towering over me and all i remember are seeing her breasts from below and the thick dark triangle of hair between her legs (this was early 70s). She almost never wore more than old school bra and p****** or foundation garments and stockings and usually she was t****** or n***. By comparison I was almost never dressed at home if it was just the two of us. And it all seemed like no big deal until I was 9 or 10. The only thing that had seemed strange before then was that she kept me in diapers for bladder for a very long time after i had been trained/was not at risk of bladder control problems. I had my own room for playtime but every night was beside her in her bed. No talks about differencies in anatomy nothing inappropriate at all. But my s***** awareness began at 9 or 10 even though puberty was years away. Erections were incessant and frustrating I knew nothing of m***********, only that if she was not around i would fondle and rub my g******* because it felt good even if always eventually stopped because tbey were sore or rubbed raw or i was just too frustrated without knowing why. She never said a word about it even though it was hapoening constantly and even more so in shower or bath and overnight.

But one day that changed. I was playing in the back yard and was thirsty and went inside. While inside I just went to look to see where she was, when i walked down the hallway her bedroom door was partially closed. But what i saw changed everything. Thru the gap i saw her standing in front of her full length mirror, she was not quite fully turned with her back to me. She was t****** clad only in a bottomless girdle with garters and stockings. With one hand she was cupping and stroking her breasts as the other hand worked furiously out of sight uo and under the girdle. She was moaning and gasping and i only vaguely processed that she was touching her body as I touched mine. She was glued to her reflection in the mirror. I was on autopilot, opening my pants and rubbing my painfully hard prepubescent p****. I had no clue about stroking or jerking simply rubbing it firmly with the palm of my hand with it trapped between my palm and stomach. I could not stop even with the fear and risk of it seeming wrong, not even when she cried out and went to her knees on the floor shaking and moaning. I had no clue about o***** but kept furiously rubbing my erection. Something more was needed but i had no clue what. I was still there with pants around my ankles rubbing like i was possessed when she stood up and turned and saw me doing it. Her arm flew to cover her breasts and between her thighs even under the girdle and even then it seemed strange i had seen her so many times before. But she looked upset and yelled my name and as pointless as it was she blurted out her version of omg are you m***********??!! I had no idea and did not know the word but I had clearly upset her and done something wrong and just jerked up my pants and ran sobbing to my room to hide. She came to my room after a while and told me that we needed to talk about what happened and then everything changed.