Affectionately

“Go ahead, slut,” Gabby says to me, looking down at me, as she leans back against the refrigerator, her spine arched, with her hips forward. She smiles down at me, watching me as I lean close, extending my tongue and flexing it wide onto her.

She purrs in contentment as my tongue travels slow up her shaft, unpressured and unforced. I simply settle on my knees, before her, worshipping her cock with my tongue. Her eyes focus on mine, two rings of dark brown, akin to dark cocobolo.

My lips press a kiss to her crown, and then I slide down, allowing her meat to stretch them around her. Gabrielle's length slides across my tongue, as her palms press to the refrigerator door. Her fingers splay, as I take her down into my throat.

“Damn!” Monica hisses in arousal, “I can see your fucking cock in his throat, Gabs!” Gabrielle just grins down at me while my mouth strokes her shaft. Soft and slow, I bob my head on her cock, working my lips down to her hilt, then up, again.

I moan for her pleasure as my lips slide upward, until the tip of my glossal muscle grinds into her frenulum. She coos soft and sweet in answer, watching as I breathe in her scent while I descend. The coo matures into a moan, a heartbeat later.

Each time her shaft slides into my throat, I swallow until my lips reach her hilt. Every time I do, she goes from purring to groaning, as she offers me no resistance. She doesn't make me earn it, she doesn't drag it out, her cock just starts to pulse.

“Almost there, faggot,” Gabrielle tells me, her voice warm and loving, and I moan loud. Her cock pulses harder, as my lips slide up, then down, and then up, once more. As the pulsation intensifies, one hand snaps forward from the refrigerator.

Her palm lands on top of my head, her fingers sliding smoothly into my hair. She doesn't grab, doesn't seek to control me. The move is simply to warn me, and I slide up smoothly, until only her crown remains. Then, Gabrielle relaxes completely.

She resisted, just enough to make sure my mouth was in the position I wanted. Her cream pumps into my mouth, directly onto my tongue, rich and heavy. I maintain eye contact with her as I swallow, hungrily consuming every drop of her milk.

For a little over a minute, dense ropes of her cream drown my tongue. Her eyes focus down on me, as if I'm the only thing in the universe. I smile around her crown, as I drink what she offers me, happily accepting her contribution to my lunch.

“Good boy, faggot,” Gabrielle praises, caressing my scalp with her fingers, as the pulsation abates. I don't wait to be told to descend, I simply slide down. I take her all the way to the hilt, clamping my lips as tight as I can, and swallowing around it.

I milk her cock, swallowing several times, before my lips glide slowly upwards. Her smile is warm and brilliant, as my lips slip off her cock. I lick her lovingly, before blowing gently to dry her, and tucking her cock carefully back into her shorts.

“Thank you for lunch!” I look up at them, before turning back to Amy. I scoot myself forward, returning to a kneel right in front of her, and she smiles down at me. Her hand cups my cheek, stroking my cheekbone with her thumb, evaluating me.

“Still hungry, or are you good, now?” she asks, her first concern before anything else being to ask whether I need further nourishment. Her beaming smile and the delicate touch tell me everything I need to know about how much she loves me.

“Perfect. Not overfed, not feeling bloated, not hungry, anymore,” I answer, and Amy nods, clearly satisfied by my answer.

“Good. I think you've earned a treat, then,” she replies, turning and walking over to the counter, opening the cookie jar by the microwave. I watch as she retrieves a dark chocolate cookie with white and dark chocolate chips, and brings it to me.

“Open, faggot,” Amy commands, pulling a piece off of the cookie. When I open my mouth, Amy hand-feeds me, even while Kasey, Monica, and Gabrielle, move to the kitchen table. They watch her feed me like a favoured dog, one piece at a time.

“There,” Amy says, as she deposits the last piece in my mouth, “Now you get to actually sit with us while we have our own lunch, since the girls decided you shouldn't have to kneel under the table and be ignored.” I nuzzle into her palm, happily.

For about an hour, we simply sit and talk, while the four girls eat their lunch, after having generously fed me very well.

Author's Note:
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