A Perfect Cock Ch. 02

Alice froze, staring at her son, as his orgasm overtook him. His cock was pulsing throwing his seed all up onto the wall between them, coating it in a layer of frosting so thick she almost couldn’t see through it. She watched as the hand curled around that penis shook ever so slightly as wave after wave of semen came out of his cock, dripping down the glass that separated her panty-clad, braless body from his extremely naked one. His orgasm went on and on, seemingly forever, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She stood, transfixed, by the incestuous, egregious, utterly wrong sight in front of her. She kept her eyes on his cock, not blinking once, as he came and came and came, without end. His eyes had closed, the sensation of coming too strong to ignore, almost without regard to the scenario around her.

She knew it was wrong. She should leave. She should at least look away. She should definitely not be stepping forward, watching that cock. Watching everything that came out of it. Watching it as if it were the last cock she would ever see in her life. Maybe it was the heat-laden air, heavy with mist and fog from the shower, occluding her sense of propriety and welcoming taboos that she would normally have shunned. Maybe it was simply that she still really, really needed to pee, and the only thing that stood between her and her destination was, well, that cock. But if was really, really being honest with herself, Alice knew that all of those were lies.

No, Alice simply couldn’t stop watching her precious son, her angel, orgasm in front of her.

Slowly, the throbbing, pulsing cock started to slow down, its little eye growing tired and weary of unleashing its torrent. The hand that held it, slack before, now completely let go of its object, falling to Jacob’s side. His foreskin rolled seductively back over the considerable length of his shaft, covering it slowly from her eyes. It met the ridge, the edge of his head, and paused momentarily, but the pressure was great enough to force it over the edge. It rolled over his head completely, winking out the eye that was still staring at her, one last final bit of cum oozing out of it and stringing from the heaving end of Jacob’s cock, hanging down low, almost touching the dildo that still lay in the shower.

As soon as his foreskin completely covered the head of his cock, it was like something snapped back into place in Alice’s brain. Something that normally controlled her desires, that kept her in check, that set her boundaries, that stopped her from acting as… in heat as she was acting right now. Her eyes darted to her son’s face, where his eyes were still closed. Somehow. The mist was beginning to clear around them, the heavy air turning lighter and colder as it clung to the mirrors and the glass, slowly starting to obscure her son from her view completely. It stuck to the glass just as his semen had, starting from the bottom and slowly covering more and more of the glass until she could only see his face. His eyes cracked open, looking down at his cock and the mess that he had made. She saw the post-orgasm haze in his eyes, the same one that his father, Richard, had in his, especially after they’d done something especially naughty, like fucking completely naked in the backyard, or letting one of their multiple swinging friends join in the fun with them, or tied her up completely and fucked her raw. In many respects, his expression was a complete mirror of his fathers, as his visage almost was, just a few decades younger.

As that haze cleared from his eyes, she saw them focus on the ground below, where water was draining from the tiles, leaving the floor slippery and wet, still shining with a sheen of moisture beaded on their surfaces. He wasn’t staring at the ground though, or the tiles and grout and drains. He was looking at her dildo, still in that shower, still right underneath him. She had to assume it had been the object of his arousal, the object of his imaginations, maybe even the object of his orgasm. She followed his eyes down, this time only briefly stopping to stare at his cock, still hanging there from his torso, only now starting to shrink into its post-arousal form. Still hanging from its tip was a gob of cum, of his seed, hanging by a thread attached to the tip of his cock, now obscured by his foreskin. She stared unabashedly as it slowly hung lower and lower, that thread of semen and seed growing thinner and thinner until it finally snapped, falling as if in slow motion. Down, down, closing the gap to the floor. No, not the floor. Her dildo. It hit her dildo with a faint splat, right on the tip of that fake cock, a thread connecting his real one to her fake one. The slight sound was the first thing she had heard since she had entered the bathroom; the first thing, that is, other than the heavy sound of Jacob breathing through his orgasm.

The sound shook her awake, shook the clouds from her eyes, clearing them even more than they had been before, when that head of his had been hidden from her eyes. His cock was starting to soften, drooping slightly now, no longer staring directly at her. She blinked, the spell broken as his orgasm finished, his cum spent. She backed up from where she had unintentionally walked forward, walked towards the wall that separated them, as if she was magnetized to his semen. Her ass hit the cold, cold counter in behind her, and with the cold came the shock of awareness. Awareness that her son would open his eyes soon, would see that she had watched him orgasm, been captivated by the cum streaming out of his cock. Had seen his cock in the first place. Alice couldn’t let that happen.

She padded out of the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. It clicked shut, and she sank down on the other side, still clad only in her panties and a thin, sticky white shirt, her skin now slightly damp from the heat and moisture in the bathroom. She wasn’t aroused. No, she couldn’t be. She definitely wasn’t. But her nipples were screwed up, sticking long and hard out of her shirt, tenting the fabric even as it stretched tightly across her breasts. Her panties betrayed her completely, soaked through completely and utterly. Betrayed the completely wrong thought that was running through her head.

She had to see it again.

—

Jacob didn’t really know what the fuck had just happened.

He’d just come home and seen his bathroom, completely wrecked, when his mom had peeked over his shoulder and meekly announced that there had apparently been a leak through the walls, meaning the entire shower had to be replaced – or at least, all the important bits. He’d been relegated to using the master bathroom shower, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world. His parents had gotten it remodeled just that year, while he was out of the house at college, and its shower looked way nicer than the one in his room did – had – anyways. All glass, floor to ceiling, the shower was almost a room of its own within the bathroom, spacious and large and vast. He would’ve chosen to live in there if he could’ve.

That night, he headed into the master bedroom, past his mother who sat reading another one of her romance books, and turned the corner into the master bathroom. He slipped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the intense heat drumming into his scalp and along his chest and neck, running in little rivulets down and over his body. When he turned around to keep lathering up the rest of his body, however, his foot brushed against something on the ground, a little out of the way of the shower itself, almost along the wall.

There, hidden from sight by the turn into the bathroom yet painfully obvious if you knew it was there, lay a dildo. There were only three people in the family – him, his mother, and his father. He was relatively certain he didn’t own any dildos, and while he wouldn’t dare to assume or judge his father’s kinks, he was also relatively certain it wasn’t his. Which left one person. His gorgeous, funny, loving mother. Alice.

Even out of the spray of water, the dildo was wet, meaning it wasn’t water that covered it, but something else on its shining surface. Then, standing over it, Jacob noticed something. That dildo looked suspiciously like his own cock. He looked back and forth between them. It was hard to tell, being soft as he was, but he could tell that the dildo would be a little bit thinner than his cock at full mast, blood raging through his erection. He pulled his foreskin back, exposing the soft, sensitive head of his dick to the quickly warming air. The head was a different shape too, but he could definitely see the similarities. The color was almost spot on, and the veins were also incredibly similar, if slightly more pronounced on his own member than on the fake one below him. And the balls below were definitely a little smaller, hung a little bit looser, than his. Plus, obviously, they were

He got lost in his thoughts, his hand idly rubbing his cock, trailing his foreskin lightly up and down. What was a dildo doing in the shower? He wasn’t a prude, and neither was his mother; he’d often come home to her sunbathing semi-naked in the backyard, albeit on her stomach. He’d seen her in her underwear before, in bikinis, wearing panties around the house. But they also weren’t exactly the most open sexually. He knew his mom and dad did their thing, and he left them to it, and they left him to do his thing. Leaving a dildo out in the shower – still covered in juices – was definitely a little farther than they had ever gone, all things considered.

Weirdly, it was turning him on. It didn’t help that he was rubbing his cock while thinking about very very wrong things about his mother, like how exactly she’d been using that dildo or how far it had gone up into her. Those weren’t the sorts of thoughts and son should have about his mother. They were weird, nasty, insane thoughts. Perverted, Oedipean thoughts. Delicious thoughts. They were things he had never even considered thinking about before, things that were now burning holes in his mind and sending pulses straight down into his cock, now hardening rapidly in his hand. It also didn’t help that the dildo displayed proudly on the ground underneath him was very, very similar to his own cock, so much so that as his inflated, it was almost as if he was seeing double. Almost, but not quite. But it did put a decidedly nastier, extremely devilish thought into his mind.