“I want you to beg for it,”

Dad tells me, “worship my cock. Show me how worthy you are, how much of a faggot you really are.” I kiss a path down it, immediately, requiring no better reason than the privilege to run my tongue back up the underside of Dad's length, again.

“Beg me to cum on your face like the faggot you are, you little slut!” Dad growls, as I kiss my way back down his cock. Each kiss a delicate caress of my lips tracing a trail down his cock, I whimper at his words, offering him my pleading vibrations.

I've known a few boys whose relationship with their father was contentious. Men who would be delirious to have that son, at twenty, kneeling, worshipping their cock. Fathers who'd be elated to see that same son begging for a facial from them.

Dad and I have always had a solid relationship. Yet I know, he might be getting more out of it for how many PTA meetings showed him the alternative. Dad might be getting off on how jealous those Dads would feel if they could see this moment.

“Please, Dad,” I murmur pleadingly, offering sensual, desperate vibrations to his cock as I kneel before him, looking up at him as I worship his cock. “Dad, I need it. Your cock is so beautiful, and you taste so good. Please Dad, cum on my face ...”

“Show me what you really think of me now that you know what a fag I am, Dad,” I beg, whimpering pleadingly up at him, kissing another trail down his cock, licking my way back up. I keep my tongue wide, caressing as much of him as I'm able.

“Please, Dad, show me what you really think of me, show me what you think I deserve from you,” I plead, murmuring soft, before I grind my tongue against his sensitive frenulum. He groans as I circle my tongue around the crown, then repeat it.

“Fuck,” Dad groans as I worship him, kissing my path down his cock again, watching me moan as I lick my way back up his rod, staring up into his eyes. “You really are a fucking faggot, aren't you, whore? Fucking cock-starved little faggot bitch!”

“Mm!” I moan in answer against his cock as my tongue grinds against his frenulum. “Mm-Hmm!” Dad growls, the sound a low, deep rumble of love, lust, and a salacious kind of pride. I growl low, in answer, offering a sensual rumble into his cock.

“Fuck, yes, you little slut!” Dad growls, watching me worship his cock, licking my way up only to kiss a path back down his thick, rigid phallus, moaning against him. “Exactly where you belong, now, aren't you? You eager little faggot cock-slut!”

“Mm! Mm-Hmm!” I moan in answer against his cock, vibrating his meat sensually as my tongue drags wide up the length of him, “Please, Dad, treat me how I deserve to be treated by you! Show me what you really think of me, now, Dad! Please!”

I've been fortunate, I've always had a Dad that I adore, and a Dad who adores me, in return. I never imagined myself on my knees for him, but now that I am, I want to know how he feels about it. I need to know what Dad now truly thinks of me.

“You deserved to be reprogrammed like this, for starters, you little faggot!” Dad growls, clearly approving of what Amy's brainwashing has done, and I'm glad I volunteered to let my best friend reprogram me. I grind my tongue hard into him.

“You like this, don't you, you fucking faggot?” Dad growls the words lower, rougher, a rumble of rough lust and shameless love, “You like being on your knees worshipping my cock like a little whore, don't you, you fucking faggot?” I moan. I do.

“I should record video of this, show it to other Dads. They'd be jealous as fuck,” Dad growls at me lustfully, and I moan soft against his cock, an affirmation. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me using video of you, here, to make other Dads jealous?”

“Fucking shameless faggot!” Dad growls when I moan affirmatively against his cock. “Fuck, you're such a natural, whore!” The words are a low rumble of approval and desire, of love and lust, intertwined. I can feel my cheeks heat to a warm pink.

“Maybe it's just because you taste so good, Dad,” I murmur reverently as I caress his cock with my tongue, licking slow up the underside of his phallus. My eyes flutter up at him, to maintain eye contact as his eyes remain riveted hard onto mine.

I hum lovingly, licking his cock, pleading with my lips and tongue for more. Dad smiles down at me, resting one arm upon the armrest of his loveseat, the other on top of my head. He slides his fingers through my hair, massaging affectionately.

I've always liked someone's fingers in my hair, even when Dad does it. When I was younger, it was straightening my hair, as I'd often get knots, and the first parent home would help. That was Dad as often as Mom, so I grew accustomed to that.

I also learned to comb my hair, more, but ... sometimes I forgot, on purpose. Mom and Dad liked running their fingers in my hair, gently working out the knots. It was kind of our parent-child time, and they would ask how my day at school was.

His touch hadn't changed, and yet now it felt more than paternal. Looking up at him from my knees, licking his cock from hilt to crown, I moan softly. “Please, Dad ... show me how you think of me, now, Dad, make a mess all over my face, now!”

Each word punctuated by a feather-soft kiss down the side of his cock, I keep my eyes upturned. Dad's eyes remain fixed, riveted to mine, traversing the straight path down one side of him. He groans in pleasure, biting down upon his lower lip.

“You really would love it, wouldn't you, faggot?” Dad murmurs the words, breathless with arousal and affection in equal measure. His fingers curl against my scalp, then stretch, stroking delicately as if searching for any knots now in my hair.

“Keep it up, slut!” Dad growls, his words a low rumble of love and lust, “Maybe I'll let you drink another serving of milk!” Moaning gently against his cock as I flex my tongue wide against the underside, I lick Dad's cock, all the way to his crown.

“Just think of it, Dad,” I murmur, grinding the tip of my tongue against his frenulum, “Showing a video of me worshipping your cock like you deserve to all those other Dads, all those lesser Dads, those Dads with sons that don't even like them.”

“Imagine how jealous all those inferior Dads would feel,” I moan softly, while punctuating each word with a kiss down the length of his beautiful cock. “Just imagine how turned on they would be, imagining having their bitchy son doing this ...”

I immediately flex my tongue wide again, pressing as much of my tongue as I physically can to his cock. I flutter my eyes up at him reverently, dragging my tongue up slow. Dad growls with arousal, his fingers curling to clench tight in my hair.