An Unseen Handy

“So I can get it off my conscience, an unseen hand should stroke his johnson,” She uttered. When the wand glowed, she giggled. “Hey, does slant rhyme work too?” I gasped. There was no one touching me. The hottest-possible version of my mom stood just in front of me, proudly watching her work in action.

It felt nearly frictionless. There was pressure around the shaft of my cock in the shape of her dainty hand, and that inverted space faithfully glided up and down my girth, displacing me with a silky invisible touch that only made me harder.

“Hooooooly fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, how the fuck—Mom. Mom! You gotta stop it. Please, you—”

“Don’t make my boy a two-stroke blower, move those digits slightly slower…” She smiled, admiring the ghost hand jerking me off. “Oh, John…you at least have to admit how creative mommy is, don't you?” The hand slowed. It started to tease against me, easing back and letting my erection relax before gripping me again and re-inciting it.

“Unnnngh, that’s so fucking h—wait! Wait a minute, is this just going to edge me now?” I cried out.

Her eyes lit up like I’d suggested something she hadn’t thought of at all.

“Is mommy’s boy into denial?” She asked, suddenly looking ravenous.

“NO! I mean, well—YES, I’m into denial if you mean denying you the opportunity to exploit me and that impossible wand by making your only son your sex toy! Look where you went with unlimited power in just a few minutes!” She seemed sad again, and I instantly felt bad for talking to my mom that way again, even if I was totally right.

When she cast her eyes down again, though, they were locked onto my midsection. I was purple. My balls trembled with every pulse my kegels were compelled to deliver.

“But look at that monster, John. He isn’t lying to me, is he?” I swallowed hard. I wanted to hold my tongue, I really did, but—

“You aren’t seriously taking my magically-augmented boner as consent, are you?” I mustered all the disgust I could for that one, but she only raised an eyebrow at me.

“I may have given you the capacity for that size, mister, but that arousal is all on your end.” She held her palms up. “In some sense, actually…I’m not doing a thing to you, at all. Our little invisible helper there is behaving based on how you feel—not how I feel,” She said. “Consent.” She guffawed. “If that’s your concern, I have a wonderful idea…” She waved the wand at my midsection again. “Rubby-rubby, tuggy-tuggy, pet and stroke and splot! John can tell the unseen hand if he wants off or not.”

_

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