Sally Jackson would always dye her son's food blue.
Even when Percy was away, for weeks or sometimes years at a time, he knew that whenever he ate blue food, his mother was watching over him. Approving of him leaving her behind for the sake of the Gods. No matter how much it hurt her.
On board the Argo II, they had these plates that conjured up whatever food you could dream of. Percy would always have something blue with his meal. Blue soda. A blue cookie. Blue cereal. He loved a wide variety of foods and was even open to some of the healthier options the plates occasionally catered (though on a boat with 7 teenagers, healthy options weren't usually what you'd see at the dinner table).
The other six demigods were off on some quest. The monster they were trying to bargain off of apparently hated Poseidon, so Percy was left on the ship. Alone. Even Coach Hedge was welcomed over Percy.
He sighed and decided to have some dinner. He sat at the dinner table, lonesome and bored and began to think of a plate of turkey with mashed potatoes and blue gravy. Then he looked around.
There was no one watching him.
It couldn't hurt.
He took a deep breath and conjured up a plate off mashed potatoes.
They were not blue.
This was an indicator that his mother would not approve of this kind of behavior.
He picked up his spoon, but then realized that there was no time to be delicate.
He leaned over and took a great big lick.
Oh god. It tasted so much better without that food coloring.
He took another. And another. And another. He buried his whole face into the mountain of potatoes and enjoyed every single lick. He sensually closed his eyes to avoid getting potatoes in them. He had potato in his lashes, nose, chin, hair, all over. Oh but he didn't care as long as he could ravish this lovely tasting mound with his tongue and savor the taste for all eternity.
Before he knew it, the potatoes had finished. All of them devoured by the sea god's son.
He closed his eyes and conjured up another plate. But Percy now had a better idea.
He tore off his shirt and tossed the rags into the sea. He picked up two handfuls of the pale beauty and used it to massage his nipples. Percy Jackson had extremely sensitive nipples. He squeezed them and, with the added stimulation of potato between his thumb and forefinger, he was bucking his hips and breathing heavily in minutes.
When the second plate was spread all over his chest he conjured up yet a third. He stroked it, wetting his fingers with the potato-y substance.
Percy Jackson's pants were too tight for his liking. He tore them off and threw them into the sea where they joined his shirt. His cock was already pointing straight up. Mashed potatoes did things to him that even Annabeth Chase could never do. He plopped some potato onto the head of his mighty man noodle and gently massaged the tip of his hairy wolf dingaling. Pre-cum was leaking onto the potatoes.
Percy grabbed a whole lot and started to rub his bologna pony fiercely. He used his other hand to shove fingerfuls of potato up his butt.
With potato on his face, chest, DNA rifle and ass, Percy Jackson was in heaven.
His cum was not blue. This was another indicator that his mother would not approve.