“Suck, now, whore,”

Dad orders, “You've proven you can take it when I give it to you. Now show me that you can handle it wholly on your own, without assistance. Prove what a total cock slut you are.” The challenge in his voice makes me twitch, as I stare up at him.

I smile up at him, even as I stare into his eyes, processing the command. I love that Dad called me a whore and a slut, and I can't not smile at such kind words. Yet the challenge stands, and Dad's challenge demands an answer from my soft palate.

I wrap my lips around his crown, and I resolve that I will impress Dad with my blossoming skills. Even if I might be new to this, I've never tolerated second-best from my own efforts. He and Mom raised me to strive to excel at anything that I try.

It has never been vital that I be excellent, for my parents, only that I make an authentic effort at it. For Mom and Dad, my best has always been sufficient. The sole requirement has always been that my best is what I had better be investing in it.

Keeping my dark brown eyes locked on Dad's matching irises, I breathe in the scent of him. I slide my mouth down onto it, showing him I can handle his massive girth. I can't tell how massive, but I know it is one behemoth of rigid phallic muscle.

Slow and smooth, I slide my mouth down, sliding my palms along his thighs. As I descend, I cup his hips, then slowly curl my fingers to quietly establish a solid hold. For a cock this size, I know I will need the leverage to do what Dad asked for.

I breathe in until his crown enters my throat, and I swallow immediately around him. A little more air flows down into my lungs, the warm musk of his aroma. The scent is heavenlier than I would have ever envisioned, but I will not be distracted.

Slowly sliding down, I dare not moan, only continue to swallow around his meat. Once my lips reach his hilt, Dad's brows raise faintly, but one more than the other. I would growl if my throat weren't stretched to conform to the shape of his rod.

I slide my mouth up his cock, caressing the muscle in my mouth with lips stretched taut on it. Moaning softly as I ascend, my eyes remain riveted to his. I can see the little twinkle of pride and satisfaction starting to kindle back into Dad's gaze.

“Unworthy!” Dad sneers down at me, taunting me mischievously. I grind the tip of my tongue against Dad's soft, sensitive frenulum, before inhaling his scent. Quick and hard, I force my mouth down his shaft, using my hands on his hips to help.

Dad moans, involuntarily, as my lips sweep down his meat, slamming my mouth as fast and hard as I can to his hilt. I hold just for a moment to swallow around him, then moan as I slide up once more. Fingers in my hair flex, caressing my scalp.

As my lips reach Dad's crown, I caress the frenulum with the tip of my tongue, once more. I can hear the way Dad's breath hitches, subtle but unmistakable to my ears, as I do. Breathing in his scent, I use my hands to help me slam myself down.

For Dad's arousal and to show him I can handle it, that he can trust me to suck his cock on my own, I accelerate my pacing on him. My throat stretches to conform to the shape of him, each time I drive my lips down to his hilt in a fast, hard dive.

I can hear Dad strain to maintain the levelness of his breath, to resist an indication I am doing well. The challenge is clear, and it stokes the rebellious desire to outperform anyone he's ever had. It doesn't even matter that it is only my first time.

Between my swimmer's musculature and the leverage of my hands on his hips, I rhythmically slam my mouth up and then back down. Like an inversion of piston and cylinder, if the cylinder were the moving part, I move my lips in Dad's service.

I maintain eye contact, and can see him clench his jaw as he strains to resist. Redoubling my efforts, I push myself just that little bit more aggressively onto him. My hands slide back a little, to improve leverage with my hands gripping his glutes.

Slamming myself down as hard as I can, I blink rapidly when his balls slide into my mouth. Dad gasps and his hand on my head clamps down on unchecked reflex. He groans involuntarily as I suck on his balls while swallowing around his shaft.

“Fuck, yes!” Dad growls a soft concession, the sound a low, warm rumble in my ears, “Hhoo ... holy fuck! Desperate slut!” Dad wrenches on my hair, forcing my head to rise abruptly. I moan loud in pain, sending sensual shockwaves into him.

“Worthy!” Dad growls louder, as I renew eye contact with him, his expression now a wide, beaming smile, that lights up the room. I moan around him all the way until his cock leaves my throat, allowing me to inhale the scent of him, anew.

“Better than worthy,” Dad moans, with a heaved breath of affirmation, “I can't believe you did that entirely on your own.” He holds my hair in an iron grip, stretched taut enough to not let me descend. I moan softly around him, my eyes on his.

“Should've known better than to test your determination, I suppose,” Dad chuckles as he pushes my head back down on his cock, with a low moan of approval, “I do know what you're like. Guess being a cock whore didn't change anything.”

“You're my sweet little slut who never fails to impress,” Dad praises, his hold on my hair relaxing, “Don't do that again. That's for when I am going to unload, and I will do that, myself. You could hurt yourself doing that from your end, slut.”

I moan submissively in answer, vindicated and smugly pleased with myself as I bob my head. Emptying my lungs on the way up his shaft, I breathe in around him, as soon as I can. The scent of his warm musk replenishes the air that I need.

Author's Note:
Here the story converges in Chapter 14: “Get ready, slut!” with Dad giving me an open facial.