Balls Deep

For two hours on my knees in the kitchen, my mouth slides up and down the length of Mom's cock. The shaft so thick that my lips stretch painfully taut, I force myself to ignore the stinging sensation. I can adapt, I hope, but her need is genuine.

I moan delicately on the way up, and Mom tells me what a sweet faggot I am. She purrs in pleasure as I grind my tip along her sensitive frenulum, when my mouth reaches her crown. Her eyes remain focused on mine, watching me servicing her.

I like her eyes on me, the taste of her on my tongue, her scent in my lungs. Mom tells me how proud she is of me, and how much of a whore I am, when my lips reach her hilt. I swallow around her, from the moment her crown reaches my throat.

Her hands in my hair, her fingers flex and curl, as Mom massages my scalp as I suck her cock. She coos softly with pleasure as my mouth moves for her, telling me when to accelerate, when to slow down, to draw out her enjoyment for far longer.

Mom maintains eye contact the entire time, smiling at me lovingly. She watches my lips as her thick phallus vanishes into them, emerges from them, and vanishes into them once more. Mom bites her lower one, growling sweetly in utter delight.

“You feel so good on my cock, faggot,” Mom purrs the words like divine benediction, and I moan lovingly on her phallus in answer. Offering her sensual vibrations throughout much of her length, my lips continue to move, until she starts pulsing.

Her hands flex and fingers splay across my skull, without warning, and she abruptly stops my motion with my lips around her hilt. She holds my head down firm, not allowing me to rise, making me thankful for two lungs, flooded with her scent.

I hold my breath and remain calm, as I feel the first pulse of heavy cream pump into the lower half of my throat. I look up, my eyes still focused on hers. Mom bites her lower lip harder, now. “Swallow, faggot, drink Mom's milk, every last gram.”

I swallow obediently, repeatedly, around the thick phallic muscle obstructing my airways. At every pulse, between every pulse, I contract the muscles of my throat to stroke Mom's cock, down to her crown. As I do, I suck the root on my tongue.

For around two minutes, I hold my breath as Mom feeds me directly. When her hands relax, and slide down from my head, I blink, once, and wait a heartbeat. Then, slow and smooth, I slide my mouth up her shaft, caressing her meat with my lips.

“You had a question you wanted to ask, slut?” Mom prompts, as my lips are still gliding up her length. I moan in answer to her statement, offering a sensual vibration to her prick before my lips reach her crown. I slide up, taking her from my lips.

“Yes, Mom. Thank you for allowing me to ask,” I reply thankfully, “May I ask why I am sucking your cock for the first time, now? I've never done it before. I don't understand why you had me suck your cock now.” Mom smiles at me permissively.

“It is because you are a faggot. It is your job to service my cock,” she tells me, “We did not know you were a faggot. We're aware, now, that you're a faggot, not simply queer. That means you have duties and responsibilities that you must fulfil.”

“Now, naturally, your consent matters,” Mom tells me, “I would not have forced you. I would not even have been entirely disappointed if you had refused service. Consent matters, as we have always taught you, but faggots are ... a bit different.”

“I am proud of you for accepting your place, especially because I need to use you, again,” Mom says, as I kneel before her, looking up at her, down at her cock, then back to her eyes, “I will even allow you to make a request to how I use you next.”

“What are my choices?” I ask, as I kneel, licking Mom's cock because she called me a faggot, and it's proof she's right about me being one, since I like being called it. I don't want to make an errant choice, though, so I need to ask for my options.

“You can retain control and worship my cock, or suck it, again,” Mom answers, “Or I can take control and ride your mouth slow, or fuck your mouth hard. You are going to service me for a second time, and I am going to cum again, nevertheless.”

“Okay, thank you, Mom, for allowing me to have input,” I answer, uncertain if that's common, under these circumstances. I hum thoughtfully, thinking about what I want, while I continue to worship her cock, simply because it feels appropriate.

“I think I'd like to ...”

Author's Note:
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