A Perfect Cock Ch. 03

I wonder what Jacob was thinking about when he masturbated, when he covered these sheets in his spunk? Was he thinking about me? Was he thinking about me watching him cum? Was she thinking about me, standing there, wearing nothing but a set of lacy black panties and a shirt that barely covered my nipples, as I gazed at his cock and watched him cum? Was he, perhaps, masturbating to the idea of me doing something else? Was his dick spurting and gasping at the thought of me impaling myself on it? Or maybe did he want me to get on my knees for him, for my son, suck my son's cock into my mouth and impale my throat on it, suck the semen from within it and into my mouth and coat my throat?

Unbidden, her semen covered hand went to her nude pussy, and touched her clit. Just the touch of her son's sticky seed on her pantiless pussy send jolts through her body, sending fresh waves of pleasure and lubrication into her core, out and onto her outer lips, which seemed ready to inhale her son's cock, as if they could sense her thoughts. Her hand, still covered in her son's semen, started to strum her clit, flicking back and forth as she masturbated, lubing her pussy with her son's semen. She got closer and closer to the edge, to that orgasm that she had been craving all morning long, and it hit her like a truck. She came and dropped over that edge into a sea of orgasm, masturbating her nub of pleasure with a handful of her son's semen, sticky and wet and fresh from the tip of his dick.

But it wasn't enough.

"Fuck," she moaned, as her clit throbbed, the orgasm gone over, but in its wake she was still left horny, needing. So again, she did the only sane thing that she could think of doing. She slid her body down, down the sheets, until the sticky mess of her son's large orgasm was level with her pussy. Her fingers pushed against the other side of the cloth, probing it, sticking out like an erection into the fabric. They approached her hole, and she lay back, writhing, as her fingers, slowly, inch by inch, covered by the sheets like a condom, forced their way into her pussy. She lay there, adjusting, as the semen-filled cloth lay deep inside her, in her womb. As her son's cum lay inside her pussy.

The thought sent her to another orgasm, and her juices covered the cloth as well. She started to finger fuck herself. The cloth was not exactly comfortable inside of her, but the cum that covered it made it slick, taking away the relatively rough edges that usually would make it an uneasy experience. Coupled with her unimaginable levels of horniness, it felt incredible. She fucked herself with her fingers, with her son's bedsheets, with his cum, on his bed. Her nipples screwed up into tight knots and she clawed at her breasts with one hand while the other one fucked herself, over and over and over again, pistoning in and out of her hole as fast as she dared, filling her pussy with her son's fresh cum. Without touching her clit a single time, she had possible the best orgasm of her life right there.

When it finished, she extracted the sodden fabric from her pussy, wincing at how it felt against her raw, freshly-fucked walls. It was absolutely drenched, and she brought it up to her nose and mouth, licking it almost clean. It was filled with her son's cum and her own juices, and the medley was incredible. Perfect. She could imagine that there was still some cum left inside her pussy, and she knew that she needed more inside of her before long, or she wouldn't be satisfied. For now, however, she contented herself, recently sated from multiple orgasms right there, naked on his bed. She licked the rest of her son's sheets clean.

--

"You're back late!"

Jacob walked through the door, closing it behind him. Richard was still out, and was expected to be out for at least a little longer. His client was female today, and Alice knew what that entailed for his whole wooing business deal operation on the golf course - and what came after it. So she knew he'd be out for at least a little longer. Meaning she had the house to herself; herself and her son, that is.

Jacob looked at her somewhat warily and flashed his own smile. He looked so much like his father. The same eyes and jaw, built slightly leaner and heavier on the muscle, tall and strong. Almost identical. Her eyes trailed down to his crotch, then snapped back up to his face.

Almost.

She motioned to the table. "Dinner?" There wasn't really much left - she hadn't expected him to be back for dinner. But she wouldn't mind making him something if he asked.

"Nah, I'm good," he said, walking up to the table and sitting at the chair across from her, right where he'd been this morning, when they had had their talk. "We had dinner already." She'd expected him to say that, of course. He always ate out with Chase whenever they spent the day together doing who knows whatever young men got up to in their free time.

They made small talk for a little bit, slipping into their customary mother-son dialogue. What he had done today, how yoga and pilates were going with her sister Sarah, what she had cooked for dinner. He tried it and told her how amazing it tasted. She smiled and told him that he was a terrible liar. They chatted for a while before Alice stood up and announced that she had to go take a shower. She left him there, at the table, and crept up the stairs.

Alice wasn't naïve enough to hope that Jacob would enter the bathroom while she showered. But the mere thought of him intruding into her shower was enough to make her glance at that now-sparkling-clean portion of the glass wall. She turned on the shower and luxuriated under the intense stream of water beating down on her from above. It did something to calm her nerves, soothing her skin from the aching, pulsating feeling that had taken over her body for the last day or so. The feeling that her earlier session in her son's room had helped with somewhat, but not assuaged completely.

She turned off the shower, wrapping herself in the towel. Steam still filled the room around her, and she stepped out of the glass-walled cubicle, into the rest of the bathroom.

--

Jacob stared at his bedroom, standing in the doorway. Something had gone terribly wrong.

Everything looked almost completely the same in his room. His clothes were still in the closest, his dresser was still a mess. The suitcases lined up on the far corner of the room hadn't been touched. But his bed was wrong. He had left it bare, completely uncovered. And his hamper had been emptied. Now, his bed had his sheets, all completely doe up and made with crisp corners, the way that he never did it. And on top of his bedsheets, neatly folded, were the rest of his clothes from the hamper, all washed and everything.

Which meant that his mother had been into his room, and folded his clothes. He knew for sure his father wasn't the one that was in here, folding his clothes and going through his hamper. At least, he hoped so. His father sure wasn't usually so concise in his folding, after so many years of his mom doing most of the laundry for the both of them. Which meant his mother had noticed that they were dirty. His mother, Alice, had probably seen the enormous cum-stain that had riddled the surface of the cloth. He lifted the clothes that sat on his bed, just to make sure. Yep. Right where he had come that morning, jerking off underneath the cloth and thinking of his mother, the cloth was completely cleaned, rid of any evidence of his orgasm that morning. He lowered his nose to the cloth, sniffing it. Even the scent of cum was gone, completely overridden by the fresh scent of laundry detergent. His mother had been thorough. He wondered if she had done exactly what he was doing now, holding the semen-filled cloth to her nose and smelling the seed of his arousal.

A cough sounded behind him, and he spun around.

His mother stood there, behind him, in just a towel. For a moment, he just stared. The slopes of her breasts were barely contained, showing scandalous cleavage before hiding away in the towel tied barely above her nipples. Her areolas were peeking at him slightly, a light pink shade that was unambiguously sexual in nature, rosy and sweet and waiting to be sucked on and bitten. Below, the towel ended just below her hips, leading out to two lengths of thigh that were much, much more exposed than almost anything he had seen her in before. If she wasn't wearing panties, then her pussy was barely an inch away from being free for him to look at, directly in his line of sight as he watched her.

She coughed again, and he looked up, cheeks going red at being caught. She simply smirked and motioned at the clean bed behind him. "Your bedsheets were a little bit... dirty" she said, a twinkle in her eyes. "I thought I'd clean it for you."

"Uhh... thanks?" he said, unsure how to answer that. She'd clearly have seen what he'd done to his bedsheets, and she'd never cleaned them before. What had made her want to clean them now?

She turned around and walked away. "Bathroom's free, by the way," she called back over her shoulder. "You can go take a shower."

He heard her sniff. "You could use it."

His face flushed, and he headed towards the shower.

The last time he had been here, he had orgasmed in front of his mother. This time would be different. He shed his clothes in a pile in front of the shower cubicle, and stepped inside. No dirty thoughts, none at all. Nothing about how his mother used this shower, nothing about what he had found last time he had been here, about the dildo on the ground and the pussy juice still coating it -

Nope, none of that at all. He turned the shower to cold as he felt his cock start to throb, but it did nothing to stop his cock from growing from nothing to semi hard as he stood there, water pouring down his body. He did his best to ignore it, not look at it, not even think about it. He looked everywhere except for at his cock; at the showerhead, at the wall at the panties set carelessly on the towel bar right outside the shower.

What?

His eyes widened. There, right where the towels usually were, was a set of black, lacy panties. The set he had seen last night. Black, covered in swirls and little spiderwebs of lace that connected it together, leading into a little triangle of fabric that looked like it couldn't cover anything at all. It looked a little bit worn, like they weren't fresh, but used. Maybe recently.

Jacob couldn't stop himself. He opened the door to the shower, slipping his hand outside and grabbing the panties that lay there before softly closing the door behind him. In his hand, they were soft, absolutely perfect, molding to his skin, and slightly damp. Damp, from recent use, from recent proximity to his mother's vagina. His cock stirred, rising completely as he lifted the panties up to his face, to his nose. He breathed in deeply and his cock jumped.

They were wet. Truly wet. Damp like his sheets had been this morning when he had woken up. And they smelled of pussy. Not just of any pussy, but of his mother's pussy. They smelled perfect. Musky and sour and sweet, the smell of pure animalistic sex and lubrication and horniness. OF his mother. His cock pulsed, and a bead of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, at the tip. He groaned into his mother's panties, feeling the texture against his nose and face and skin. Against his tongue as it darted between his lips, tasting the slight wetness that the lace held within its matrix. He coaxed it out with his tongue, tasting his mother's pussy for the first time. It was heavenly.

Unbidden, his arm lowered from his face, and fresh steam hit him as he turned the temperature back up. He lowered the panties, down, down his body, past his chest and his abs and torso, down to his cock, which stood, ready, lubricating itself, ready for his gasp. He wrapped the panties around his cock. Just the sight was almost enough to make him come, but not quite. They lay there at the end of his cock, drooping over the end, hanging down from the sides. The little triangle of cloth that would normally lay directly over her pussy covered his tip, right at the end of his foreskin. As he watched, the already wet fabric moistened slightly, a little drop of his precum absorbing into the fibers, mixing with his mother's juices that already lay in the panties.

John closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around the panties, around his cock. He slowly stroked them up and down his cock, masturbating himself with his mother's panties. It felt incredible. He could almost feel the wetness of his mom's pussy, her arousal, her sexy orgasm juices and slippery natural lubrication lubricating his cock instead, mixing with the precum that coated the pink head of his penis and was beading at his tip. He started to rub faster, back and forth. Jacob's cock had never been so hard before. He could feel the blood rush from his head and into his cock. His hand was a blur now as he jerked it back and forth, faster and faster. But he didn't let himself approach the edge of orgasm. He slowed down as he got close, opening his eyes and staring at his cock, at the foreskin moving up and down, rolling over the head, and the panties that covered it, almost like a second foreskin in and of itself. He stopped for a moment, dropping his hand away completely. His penis stood there in the now-chilly air, pulsing up and down with his heart as he breathed, jerking a little, almost as if it were trying to get itself off. The panties lay around his cock, now wrinkled and rumpled from when he had crushed it tightly in his fist around his cock. He stood there, watching his mother's panties curled around his cock.

"There they are!"

Jacob looked up, shocked. His mother stood there, in her towel, just as she had been when he had seen her minutes ago outside. She smiled brightly at him, looking at his face. Completely ignoring the fact that he was naked, in the shower, and masturbating with her panties wrapped around his cock. Almost as if it were normal for his mother to walk in on her son masturbating with her clothes.

"M-Mom?" he stuttered, frozen.

She kept looking straight at him. "I've been looking for those panties. I thought I lost them!" She stepped up close, up to the glass that separated them. He could see the condensation on the slopes of her breasts, see the slight indentations of her nipples in the fabric of the towel, jutting out ever so slightly and making tents in the cloth.

She held out her hand. "May I have them back?"

He stood, shell-shocked. This was horrible. First, she had caught him yesterday, and watched him come on the glass in between them, over and over, shooting semen out towards her. This time, however, he'd been caught with her clothes. Masturbating with her panties. Touching things that he should have no business touching. Jacob was mortified as he stared at his mother.

She stared back at him, smiling brightly. Her nipples were slightly more prominent now, and he could tell that they were bulging out, tightening up considerably. Still, she looked straight at his face, refusing to look down at his cock.

"Well? Are you going to give them to me?"

Jacob didn't know what to say. He didn't move, didn't do anything, in case it was the wrong thing to do. In case it would alert his mother to what a freak he was. But he stood there as she stood there, wrapped in her towel, just as his cock jutted out towards her, wrapped in her panties. Her sodden, wet, precum-covered panties.

Her eyes narrowed, and she huffed. "Fine," she said, opening the shower door. Steam escaped with a slight hiss. Jacob stood stock-still. "I'll get them myself."

She still stared straight into his eyes. Not at his naked body, at his chest and abs and arms. Not at his legs, dripping with water with a steady plink, plink, plink that filled the stretching silence as she stepped towards him. Not at his cock, heaving up and down, harder than he had ever felt it, filled with blood on the inside and covered with her black lace panties on the outside.

She stepped towards him, closer and closer. He still found himself frozen, unable to move at all, even if he wanted to. She was close enough now that his cock was almost touching her towel, but she still stared directly into his eyes. Into his soul. He could feel himself cringing away.

Then her hand wrapped around his cock.

Well, more precisely, around her panties. The panties that she wanted back. The panties now slick with his precum, the lubrication that his cock had exuded as he had thought incredibly nasty things about his mother. Her hand wrapped around her panties, another layer around his cock, and he thought he might die as she looked at him. Her hands were small, but her panties were even smaller, barely any cloth there to call underwear in the first place. Her pinky landed on his skin instead while the rest of her hand landed on her panties. Her little finger wrapped around the underside of his cock, right where his head met his shaft, trailing the slightly bumpy ridges that lined the bottom of his glans.

He sagged, groaning, as her pinky lay against his skin, warm and hot and so fucking sexy. His mother's hand was on his cock. It felt like everything he had imagined for the past day, in his dreams the night before, in the shower even before that. Better than everything.

She blinked at him demurely, staring up into his eyes. "What?" she asked, the perfect image of innocence and chastity.

He stood there, trembling, and took in another breath. Then she wiggled her pinky, rubbing It slightly against those ridges at the bottom of his cock.

He moaned loudly this time, bracing his hand against the wall behind her, leaning towards her. She still stared at him, scant inches from him, acting like what she was doing to his cock wasn't happening at all.

"Is something wrong, Jacob?"

Her hand crept up his cock, dragging the panties with it. Her pinky landed on the tip of his cock, at the very very end, where his slit was. It wiggle slightly, and he felt it press firmly but gently into his slit, the way that he imagined her tongue would if she was on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock and trying to suck out all the cum from deep inside him, using her tongue like a straw. Her pinked wiggled, and the flow of precum increased, coating her finger and the head of his cock and the panties that covered it.

He moaned and actual word this time. "Mom..."

"Yes, Jacob?"

She flicked her pinky, and it hit his cockhead, sending shudders and lightning all the way through his body, into his balls, which were churning and ready to burst. "You need to stop," he whispered, his cock jolting up and down, pulsing, aching to cum.

"Stop what?" She stroked his cock completely then, slick with his arousal and precum, making a sticky mess of her panties and his cock with her hands. He looked straight down at his mother's pretty little hand covering his cock, stroking him, even as she looked directly at his eyes.

"That," he said.

"Or what?" She pumped him again, and another bead of precum formed at the tip of his cock. "I just want my panties back. What are you going to do?"

He groaned as her hand slipped from the panties and they fell to the floor, and she wrapped her hand around his cock completely, all five of her fingers touching his skin, touching his sensitive head. His mother stroked his cock once and he almost jumped from the absolute pleasure of it. He had gotten handjobs before, but he had never gotten anything like this. The pure unadulterated arousal of the situation was in his head, creeping into his blood, filling him with need.

She got closer, closer still, until they were sharing the same breath. And then, as she tightened her fingers around his cock and started jerking him off in earnest, she whispered into his ear.