Jake cries hard 3” long in the shower

Jake, was a mere 18 years old, a lanky boy with a mop of messy golden hair and eyes that mirrored the afternoon sky. He was a virgin, a fact Jenna found both amusing and irritating. She yearned to shape him into her perfect plaything, to bend him to her will, to make him her pawn in the twisted game she played with her family.

The house echoed with Jake's piteous cries, muffled by the rush of water from the shower. Jenna could almost smell his fear, his humiliation. She pushed open the bathroom door, her gaze sweeping over the steamed-up room, her prey cowering under the cascade. She slid in, her robe whispering against her skin, her eyes locked onto Jake's cowering form.

"Jake." Her voice was a purr, a dangerous lullaby. "What are you doing in here all by yourself?" She could see him, his puny erection tenting the flimsy shower curtain, his nipples tightening under her gaze. He was a mouse, she the cat, toying with him before the inevitable pounce.

"Jenna," he gasped, trying to hide his shame, his fear. "Get out. I'm in the shower."

She laughed, a sound like shattered glass. "Oh, Jake. You're so cute. Like a little girl, all blushes and shy looks." She reached out, her fingers pinching his nipple hard, making him yelp. "And look, you even have the tits for it."

Her hand snaked out, grabbing his erection, her thumb rubbing the tip, making him jerk. "And this," she said, her voice taunting, "this is just adorable. Like a little boy's." She brought her face close, her breath hot on his ear. "You're cute, Jake. Like a girl. Like a little plaything."

Her tongue snaked out, licking his earlobe, making him shudder. Her hand rubbed his penis like a clit, her fingers gentle yet insistent. She felt him tense, his body stiffening, and then he was spurting, his cries echoing in the shower stall, his humiliating orgasm washing away under the cascading water.

"Come on, darling," she said, her voice sweet, deadly. "Let's go to my room. I think there's something you should see." She sauntered out, her robe clinging to her curves, leaving Jake to towel off, his body still tingling with shame and humiliation.

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom, John, Jake's father, was on his knees, his pallid face pressed into his wife's pubic mound. Tiffany, Jenna's mother, laughed, her voice a harsh cackle, as she spread her legs wider, her Queen of Spades tramp stamp gleaming in the dim light.

"You see, John," she said, her voice dripping with contempt, "you made a pathetic little boy. He'll never be a real man. Look at you, crawling on the floor, eating my pussy like a good little cuckold."

Her hand reached out, grabbing a massive, black dildo from the nightstand. She slammed it into her pussy, her eyes rolling back as she felt the satisfying stretch. "This," she sneered, "this is a real cock, John. Not your little clitty dick."

She thrust the dildo in and out, her hips rising to meet each stroke. John watched, his eyes filled with shame and humiliation, his tiny penis throbbing