Have you ever seen a truly gorgeous cock before? Not one that's just massive, or one that looks like it could split your insides open, or so thick that you can't get your mouth around it. Not one that's just got the perfect head, or lets out enough cum for you to bathe in. No, a really perfect cock, the kind that you've simply got to encounter to truly appreciate.
Alice had seen many different cocks before, of all sizes and shapes and colors. But in all her years, she had only ever seen one perfect cock. It was such a shame that it belonged to her son.
She hadn't meant to see it, of course. It never started out that way. Jacob was not the sort of son that would walk around naked, or try to show off his cock to just anybody, especially his mother. They had always been a normal, perfect family. Alice and her husband, Richard, had done well in raising him. He'd grown up just as they had always imagined him, as a tall, strong, independent young man who had an unwavering set of morals ingrained in him. She'd always been, and always would be, proud of who he had become. These days, he was the spitting image of his father, Richard, when they had been his age. Nowadays, Richard had his silver-dusted hair and beard shorn close to his face, but the resemblance was uncanny. Especially their voices.
Their voices were twins of each other, utterly and completely. Deep and warm and rich, like smoked wood in the winter or a good whiskey after a long day of work. In fact, it had been Richard's voice that she'd fallen in love with first. She'd been in the library, studying right before midterm season truly began, and had been reaching for a book on one of the higher shelves. She wasn't necessarily short, but definitely not tall, not rowing-team or basketball-team tall. On her toes, she had been one step away from climbing up the stacks and shelves themselves for that biochemistry textbook when a warm wall had hit her from behind, smelling of oud and amber and honey. When she turned around, she was met with a man in a sweater and jeans, reaching up for the book she wanted.
"Can I help you with that?"
Even now, twenty-three years later, that voice turned her knees weak and sent throbbing pulses into her pussy. Some sort of Pavlovian response to his voice, which was usually followed by his mouth and fingers and cock, had formed in her mind, making psychological connections between that voice and the mind-blowing orgasms and semen that came after. Richard's cock was almost perfect, as cocks came. It was uncut, the way she preferred it, and long enough that she needed a hand whenever she blew him, but it was not perfect. The head was a shade too light, and if she was being honest with herself, didn't drool precum the way she liked. It was a kink of hers, to watch a cock as it leaked and spurted precum for her and lick It up, or catch it in her fingers and use it to lube up her clit.
No, Richard's cock was not perfect, but it sure was close. It was the closest she had ever seen before, and she was damn sure not going to let something like that out of her sight. So she had fucked and sucked and then fucked it some more until, one day, a baby had popped out. Little Jacob.
Alice woke up from her reverie, startled at the sight of Jacob coming down the stairs. These days, he always woke up late, after Richard had left the house and gone to work. She had berated him for it once, but he had said something about circadian rhythm shifts of college students and how it was all normal. She'd never made that mistake again.
"Good morni- afternoon," she remarked, crossing her legs and picking up her glass of orange juice before sliding a now-cold slice of toast and jam at him. He crashed into the chair opposite her, hair still wet from his morning - afternoon - shower, dripping onto his shirt. It had grown slightly too small for him, but so had almost all the clothes he had left behind. She kept telling him to bring some home from his dorm room, but he didn't listen. He almost never did, these days.
"Thanks, mom," Jacob said, grabbing the slice and munching loudly. She her eyes lightheartedly and poured him a glass of orange juice.
"What're you up to today? Sun's shining, it's nice and hot outside," she said, sipping at her own glass. "Maybe you want to take a dip in the pool? I sure think I will."
"I don't know, Mom. Me and Chase were gonna go out to the movies tonight, catch up with some old friends?" He shrugged. "Been a long time since we've seen each other. Last summer I think. Might be nice to see some of the guys again."
"Time's really flying, huh?" She thought about her college days, and what she'd spent her days doing. "Can't believe it's been a year already since then."
"You're telling me." He sprang up, crushing the last bit of toast into his mouth, crumbs flying everywhere. He brushed them off his shirt before smoothing his hair and checking out his reflection in the side of his glass, then was flying out the door.
She shook her head, smiling. "Get back here and put your plate away!" she called through the already open door.
He was back in an instant, kissing her cheek, then out the door again. "Sorry Mom, gotta run! I'll make it up to you next time!"
Well, maybe not infallible morals, she thought to herself, as she gathered up the dishes and put them in the sink.
She headed back upstairs and slipped off her robe, standing naked on the landing. Ever since Jacob had come back for the summer, she'd had to be clothed most of the day. It wasn't something she was used to, but she made it work. As soon as he was gone, though, everything came straight off. Most days, she only wore a robe around the house, even with her son there. Before he went to college, she had forgotten what it felt like to feel nothing but air between her legs and along the tips of her breasts; after he'd left, she'd been able to go back to the way she'd been before she'd had him, naked as the day she was born. Even more naked, perhaps. Now, with him back in the house for the summer, she did her best to keep herself covered up for him.
