Complaints of a married woman

Henry was completely hard and afraid that it might cause damage, Celeste held Henry's newly born cock.

She began to move her hand slowly, a clinical and maternal touch. For her, it was just a necessary procedure to help her son, like so many other things she had to do for him over the years due to his condition.

"Everything will be fine," she murmured, slightly increasing the rhythm of her movements. Henry's cock pulsed in her hand, responding to the touches even though he couldn't move.

"My God, her hands are so soft," he thought, feeling Celeste's delicate touch on his newly developed member. The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure throughout his paralyzed body.

His newly grown cock had abnormal sensitivity. Moreover, it was the first time in this world that he was touched so intimately and could feel it.

Celeste maintained constant movements, her hand sliding up and down her son's impressively large member. It was a delicate situation, but she had dealt with so many intimate situations caring for him that this seemed just another medical necessity.

As Celeste continued her movements, Henry struggled internally. "This is wrong, she's my mother," he mentally scolded himself. But the pleasure was undeniable, and he couldn't help but appreciate every second of her touch.

Being in Owen's body was different from his own, Henry didn't see Owen's daughters as his, but now, it was himself doing an incestuous act with his own mother, even though she wasn't seeing anything sexual about it, he still felt a certain controversy.

"Is it helping or not?" she asked softly, noticing his cock getting even harder in her hand. "This enormous cock seems to have gotten harder, we need to make it decrease..."

When Celeste commented on the size of his cock, Henry felt a wave of masculine pride. "Finally I'm a real man," he thought, exulting in his new physical development.

Celeste increased the pace and continued her movements, her hand sliding firmly along the length of Henry's member. Despite her purely clinical intentions, she couldn't help but notice how different it was, bigger, thicker, more alive than it had ever been.

Her hand worked methodically, going up to the glans and down to the base in long, firm movements. Henry's cock pulsed in response, drops of pre-cum beginning to appear at the tip.

"See? It's working," she commented, using the fluid to lubricate her movements. Her hand now slid more easily, producing soft wet sounds.

"Let mommy help you," she continued, her hand now moving more quickly on the pulsating member. "Everything will be fine..."

"Fuck, this feels too good," he moaned in his mind, feeling the rhythm increase. Henry desperately wanted to be able to move, to respond to Celeste's touches, but his body remained motionless.

Celeste continued her movements, her hand sliding firmly along the length of Henry's member. Despite her purely maternal intentions, she couldn't help but notice how different it was, bigger, thicker, more alive than it had ever been.

As the stimulation continued, Henry felt his orgasm approaching. "Shit, I'm going to cum," he screamed internally, unable to warn his mother. When the explosion finally came, it was the most intense sensation he had ever experienced.

Henry's body convulsed when his orgasm finally arrived. Intense jets of sperm exploded from his member, some hitting Celeste's face as she continued her movements.

A jet fell on her lips and, for a brief moment, she tasted a surprisingly sweet flavor that made her shiver with pleasure. But she quickly pushed that thought away, her only concern was taking care of her son.

Seeing Celeste's face spattered with his sperm, Henry felt a mixture of shame and excitement. "Sorry, mom," he thought, genuinely sorry for having soiled her, but at the same time incredibly excited by the sight.

"There, son," she whispered, cleaning her face with her free hand while continuing to pump gently, ensuring that all the liquid came out. "See? It's starting to decrease."

As a dedicated mother who had always taken care of all her son's needs, Celeste kept her focus only on the clinical aspect of the situation, ignoring any other sensation she might have experienced.

Henry's member finally began to soften in her hand, returning to a more natural state for the first time since it had grown so dramatically.

"Wow, even soft it's an impressive cock," Celeste murmured as she observed Henry's now flaccid member, still maintaining its considerable size.

She took some towels and began to carefully clean her son and the mess that had been made. As she had always done since he was little, her movements were purely maternal and practical.

After cleaning everything, Celeste leaned in and gave a loving kiss on Henry's forehead. "Good night, son," she whispered before retiring to her own room.

As Celeste cleaned him and said goodbye, Henry was left with a feeling of guilt and confusion. "She's my mother, I shouldn't have enjoyed that," he scolded himself. But at the same time, he couldn't deny the pleasure he had felt.

"Thank you, mom," he thought respectfully as she left the room, grateful for her care, even though the situation had become much more complicated than either of them could have imagined.... Henry was left alone, reflecting on how his body was changing in ways he didn't expect, and how his mother interpreted everything as just another aspect of his "recovery."

Henry reflected on what happened with curiosity. Despite the intimacy of the moment with Celeste, no energy was transferred from her to him. It was intriguing, even a simple kiss on Lauren's cheek had provided him with a small amount of green energy.

But with Celeste, even after such an intimate act as masturbation, there was absolutely no energy transfer. Her touch, purely maternal and clinical, had not generated any kind of corruption or power absorption.

Henry knew he would need to discover the reason for this anomaly on his own. Perhaps there was something special about Celeste that made her immune to his powers, or perhaps the nature of the touch, completely devoid of any sexual intention, was the key to understanding this limitation.

For now, it was just another mystery to add to his list of discoveries about his new powers.

Henry fell asleep reflecting on the day's events, the inexplicable growth of his member, his mother's reaction, and especially the mystery of why she didn't generate any energy for him to absorb.

The next morning, he left early for Owen's house, eager to continue his explorations.

Henry took over Owen's body and realized that the girls had already left, Jessica for college and Sarah for work. There would be no opportunity for morning fun this time.

Owen quickly had his breakfast and went to work. Henry was particularly interested in what would happen today, especially after that small amount of green energy he had received from Lauren the day before.

Arriving at work, his thoughts were focused on the director's mysterious wife. That green light still intrigued him, so different from the white lights he was used to manipulating. If a simple kiss on the cheek had already provided some energy, what other potentials could be explored?

Owen headed to his office, knowing that he would soon have to continue training with Lauren.

During the workday, Owen and Lauren maintained a normal professional routine, reviewing procedures and documents. However, after Henry used his power on her, a subtle change began to manifest in her behavior.

Lauren seemed more animated, her smile more frequent and natural. She leaned a little closer when Owen explained something, her formal posture gradually softening.

"Mr. Owen, you really are an excellent instructor," she commented with a warm smile, different from her usual contained expression. "I'm learning so much from you."

Her laughter, previously controlled and polite, now sounded more genuine. She even began to make small jokes about bureaucratic procedures, something completely out of her previous behavior.

"You know, I don't think I've ever had so much fun learning about spreadsheets," she joked, sitting closer to him than normal while reviewing documents.

The change was subtle enough not to seem strange, but notable enough to indicate that Henry's energy was having an effect on her.

It was already past normal working hours, but Lauren and Owen continued reviewing documents. The office was almost empty when Henry decided to use his power on her again.

"I think that's enough for today," Lauren said, stretching in her chair. The movement made her blouse rise slightly, revealing a small strip of skin.

"It really was a productive day," Owen commented, observing how she seemed more relaxed than normal.

At this moment Henry took advantage and used part of his energy on Lauren. The effect was instantaneous.

"You know, Owen... can I just call you Owen now?" she asked, her tone more informal. "I think after spending the whole day together, we can set aside some of this formality."

She leaned over to organize some papers, unconsciously unbuttoning another button on her blouse. The movement made her soft perfume reach Owen.

"You really are a great teacher," she smiled, her green eyes shining in a different way. "James was right to trust you to train me."

Lauren tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture that seemed more sensual than it should. "Sometimes I feel a little guilty," she admitted, her voice softer. "You dedicating so much time teaching me basic things..."

"It's my job," Owen responded professionally.

"Even so," she smiled, leaning a little closer. "You've been so patient with me. You know, it's not easy being the boss's wife... people always assume I'm here just because of that."... Her perfume was more intense now, a mixture of flowers and something more sensual. She crossed her legs, her skirt rising slightly.

"But you treat me differently," Lauren continued, her eyes meeting his. "You make me feel... competent. Capable."

The third button of her blouse "accidentally" opened, revealing more of her cleavage as she leaned over to pick up a folder.

Lauren sighed, leaning back in her chair. "You know Owen, sometimes I feel so... invisible at home," she began, her voice carrying a vulnerability she hadn't shown before.

"James is a good husband, don't get me wrong. But he lives at work, always in meetings, trips... when he's home, he spends hours on the phone," she continued, absentmindedly playing with the open button of her blouse.

"And when I try to talk about my interests, my dreams... he just nods and says 'that's nice, dear'," she imitated her husband's tone. "As if I were a child telling a silly story."

Owen nodded understandingly. "You're an intelligent woman, Lauren. You deserve to be heard."

The comment made her smile, her eyes shining. "That's exactly it! I have opinions, ideas... I'm not just the 'trophy wife' he displays at events. But here... here you really listen to me."

Lauren leaned forward, her cleavage more visible as she vented. "I thought... I thought that if I started working here, I could help him, you know? Better understand his world, contribute somehow."

"But you know what he said when I commented on what I learned?" she gave a bitter laugh. "'Good that you're having fun, dear.' As if this were just a hobby to keep me busy."

Owen offered an understanding look. "You're doing very well here. You learn quickly."

"Thank you," she smiled, lightly touching his arm. "It's good to hear that from someone who really understands the subject. James acts as if I were incapable of understanding anything related to business."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair. "Sometimes I wonder if he really sees me as a partner or just as... decoration. A pretty accessory to display at corporate events."

"You're much more than that," Owen responded gently, making Lauren blush slightly.

Lauren sighed deeply, running her hand over her neck. "You know... it's been almost six months since we've done anything," she admitted, her voice low. "And when it happens... it's so mechanical."

She adjusted herself in the chair, uncomfortable with the subject but needing to vent. "James just... thrusts, does his thing and it's over. Never worried if I came, if it was good for me."

"And to make it worse...," she gave a bitter laugh, playing with the edge of the empty glass. "He's not even well-endowed. 8 centimeters, at most. But he acts like he's a stallion."

Lauren blushed slightly after the confession. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying these things. It's just that... sometimes I feel so frustrated."

"And when I try to talk about it, he gets defensive. Says I'm too demanding, that I should be grateful for what I have," she continued, her voice carrying years of dissatisfaction.

Lauren continued venting, her voice increasingly frustrated. "He never... you know, uses his mouth. Says it's disgusting, that men of his position don't do that."

She nervously fidgeted with the neckline of her blouse. "My breasts... he barely touches them. When I try to guide his hand, he says it's not time for 'games'."

"And my pussy... you know," she blushed intensely. "He never licked it. Says it's something prostitutes do, that decent women don't ask for that. As if having desire was something dirty."

Lauren took a sip of water, her throat suddenly dry. "Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me for wanting these things. For wanting to feel real pleasure..."

"And when I try to talk about it, he says I've been reading too many erotic novels, that I have mundane ideas in my head," she continued, her voice mixing frustration and shame.

Lauren moved in her chair and her gaze briefly went down, noticing the pronounced bulge in Owen's pants. She blushed intensely, realizing the intimate situation they had created with that conversation.... "I... I think I better go," she said quickly, getting up and adjusting her blouse. "It's late and James must be waiting for me."

She hurriedly grabbed her purse, avoiding looking directly at Owen. "Thank you for listening to me," she murmured, keeping her eyes down. "See you tomorrow."

Lauren quickly left the room, her cheeks still red from the embarrassing situation. Owen remained seated, both pretending that nothing had happened.