Chapter 4
Her voice was barely a whisper when she replied, "It's so big." There was genuine amazement in her tone, and she couldn't believe she was saying the words out loud. She had never seen anything like it before, not even in the porn she had watched with her husband. Dante's cock was a work of art, a testament to the beauty of the male form. She felt a strange mix of pride and lust swirl inside her, a heady cocktail that made her knees weak.
He stepped closer still, bringing his cock within arm's reach. Jasmine felt the urge to touch it, to feel the velvety softness she had seen from the shadows of the hallway. With trembling hands, she reached out and gently touched him, her fingertips grazing the swollen head of his cock. He moaned at her touch, the sound sending a shiver up her spine. Jasmine's eyes never left his cock, she was entranced.
Her fingers danced lightly along the length of him, tracing the thick veins that pulsed with his heartbeat. He was hot to the touch, the silken skin sliding under her fingertips. Jasmine marveled at the weight and the heat of him, the way he quivered with each caress. She had never felt anything so alive, so potent. Her own hand felt foreign as it wrapped around him, her grip tentative at first, unsure of what to do next.
Dante's eyes were hooded with desire, his breathing coming in shallow pants as Jasmine grew bolder. She stroked him slowly, her thumb circling the tip, spreading the beads of precum that had formed there. His cock was slick with it, making it easier to glide her hand along his shaft. Jasmine felt a sense of power, of control, that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Her own arousal grew with each stroke, her pussy begging for attention.
Dante's hand came to rest on her shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. Jasmine looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of regret, any indication that she should stop. But all she saw was want, pure and raw. It was all the permission she needed.
Her hand began to move more purposefully now, her grip tightening around the base of his cock. She stroked him with a newfound confidence, her thumb caressing the sensitive underside with each pass. The velvet-soft skin of his shaft slid over the steel rod beneath, the contrast sending thrills through her body. Jasmine's eyes never left his face, watching the play of emotions as he watched her touch him.
The sound of her hand moving along his length filled the kitchen, a wet, slick sound that seemed to echo off the walls. Jasmine could feel the blood pumping through him, the steady beat of his pulse against her palm. She marveled at the way his cock responded to her touch, growing harder, more insistent. Each stroke was a declaration of her desire, a silent confession of the dark thoughts that had been festering in her mind.
Her strokes grew faster, more urgent, matching the rhythm of her racing heart. Jasmine felt like she was drowning in the intensity of the moment, her mind swirling with a mix of love, lust, and guilt. She knew she should stop, knew this was wrong, but the need to feel him, to give him pleasure, was too great to resist. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin, and took him fully in hand.
The head of his cock was a deep, throbbing purple, the slit at the tip leaking more precum that she eagerly spread along the shaft. Jasmine's other hand came up to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently in her palm. She could feel the tension in them, the promise of his impending release. The sight of her son's cock, her own hand guiding it to climax, was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was a taboo, a line that she had never dared to cross, and yet here she was, lost in the act.
The air grew thick with the scent of sex, a potent aphrodisiac that only served to fuel Jasmine's passion. She could feel the heat of him against her skin, the slickness of his cock as she worked him closer and closer to the edge. Each stroke brought a fresh wave of arousal, her own body begging for release. Jasmine's pussy was slick and swollen, her nipples tight with need.
And then, with a strangled cry, Dante's cock erupted. The first rope of cum shot out like a fountain, painting her robe and thigh with hot, sticky seed. Jasmine watched in awe as the second and third spurts followed, each one less forceful but no less intense. His body tensed, muscles straining as he emptied himself into her hand.
As his climax subsided, Jasmine's strokes grew slower, gentler. She watched the last drops of cum cling to the tip of his cock, the shiny strands connecting them like a delicate web. Dante's eyes were closed, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his chest heaving with each breath. Jasmine felt a strange sense of pride, a satisfaction that she had brought her son to this point of pleasure.
Her hand continued to caress him as he softened in her grip, the aftershocks of his orgasm rippling through him. Jasmine couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight, the reality of what had just occurred crashing over her in a tidal wave of emotion. The silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of their heavy breathing.
Dante's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto hers. Jasmine could see the confusion and lust warring within him, the same tumultuous emotions that were tearing her apart. The moment hung suspended between them, a silent question that neither of them dared to voice. What had they just done? Where would this lead them?