“Suck my cock, fag.”

“Dad, I'm not sure I can get this in my mouth. Are you sure it'll fit?” I ask, and when Dad nods, I take a deep breath, and I let my lungs fill with his scent. “Okay. Force my head down and I'll happily suck your cock, Dad.” Dad just nods in answer.

“All right, faggot,” Dad says, “Deep breath.” I breathe out, and kiss the crown of Dad's cock. Then I breathe in as deeply as possible, and as I do, Dad shoves my head down hard, forcing my lips to sink all the way to the hilt on his phallic monster.

“There you go, faggot,” Dad says calmly, his voice soft with pleasure, “Now suck it, slut. Swallow when you reach the hilt.” I swallow around his cock immediately, as the hilt is exactly where he shoved my head. Dad gently smooths my hair back.

“Moan on it as you lift, empty your lungs on the way up my cock,” Dad says, the tone not one of command, but instructive, even helpful. I moan softly as my mouth slides up his cock, until my lips reach the underside of his crown, raising my eyes.

“That's it, whore,” Dad encourages me calmly, “Breathe in when your mouth gets back to the crown. Start down while you breathe in, to maximise how much air you have when it enters your throat.” I answer with a soft moan, then inhale deep.

I slide my mouth down his shaft, breathing in until his crown reaches my throat. I force myself down on his cock without relying on Dad to help me. I want to be able to do this on my own, and not always needing help, but it's a struggle to sink.

Without warning, and without judgement, Dad shoves my head the rest of the way down onto his cock. I swallow instantly when my lips are shoved down to the hilt. He doesn't hold me down, and I moan softly in appreciation as I slide upwards.

I lift my arms to place my hands on the outside of his hips, holding myself steady, as I bring my mouth up. At the crown, I have emptied my lungs on the way up, and breathe in, as instructed. I start sliding back down immediately, my pace slow.

Dad doesn't seem to mind the slowness, as I slip my hands back to the outer curvature of his gluteal muscles. I steady my position more as I slide down, using my hands on his hips to pull myself down. I swallow hard when I get down to the hilt.

“Second fucking try,” Dad moans softly above me, stroking my hair, “You're a natural cocksucker, fag. I'm proud of you.” My eyes flutter and my cheeks warm, and I moan, offering him sensual vibration as my mouth slides up his thick phallus.

As soon as I reach the crown I start breathing in and sliding back down, determined to establish a good rhythm. I slip my hands a bit further, to get a better grip to stabilise myself. This time, I don't wait to pull until it starts to get more difficult.

I flex the muscles in my arms as my mouth sinks, dragging myself down harder. My throat stretches and conforms to the shape of Dad's cock as I force myself to take him to the hilt a second time. Not much faster than the first, but I'm doing it.

Dad moans above me, soft and sated, offering me no pressure. Instead, he simply strokes my scalp with his fingers in my hair, caressing and encouraging. He coos soft words of reassurance. “You're doing great, faggot. Your mouth is fantastic.”

I bob my head slow but smooth, focusing on technique, not pace. It's how Dad taught me to approach any new skill I was trying to master. First, focus on doing it right. Speed will come later, but first, the body must be trained to the technique.

Author's Note:
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