Earning Dinner

Even as they ignore me completely, I know I'll be punished if I ignore either one of them for too long. Kneeling under the table, I feel invisible, irrelevant, and they are both entitled to my mouth. I switch from Mom's cock to Dad's, taking it all.

I know it means I'll be slower to get fed, but I won't get fed at all if I irritate Mom or Dad to the point they punish me and interrupt me eating my dinner. I have to balance the needs of both cocks evenly, or I won't get to eat anything, tonight.

I have to remain silent, too, no moaning on their cocks while they eat their pizza and breadsticks. I swallow hard around Dad's cock as my lips reach his hilt. My lips slide up to his crown and I grind the tip of my tongue against Dad's frenulum.

Then back down to the hilt, I bob in long, slow strokes, while stroking Mom's cock with one hand, my arm stretched out. When my arm hurts from movement, I switch back to Mom's shaft, switching hands. I'm learning my new food is tiring.

For an hour, Mom and Dad eat above me, as I switch back and forth between them, but they still don't reach their release. They don't get up, either, though, they simply relax at the table and continue talking, allowing me to continue my dinner.

Finally, after two and a half hours, Mom starts to pulse in my fingers. Dad's cock pulses in my mouth, though neither one of them acknowledges me, or their arousal. I switch from Dad's cock to Mom's, stroking Dad slowly as I move my mouth.

I wrap my lips around Mom's crown and slide down, feeling her pulsing in my mouth and throat. I force myself to dive to her hilt harder, now, knowing she's close. Above me, their conversation doesn't even hitch as Mom's pulsing gets harder.

On my third dive down, the first rope of her cum pumps into my lower throat without warning. I freeze, stroking Dad's pulsing prick with my left hand, as Mom feeds me her cream. I swallow around her cock, pushing my mouth to her hilt.

When Mom's pulsing stops, I slide my mouth swiftly up her shaft and leave it, moving back to Dad. I wrap my lips around him and bring my head down fast and hard, bobbing quicker now, until the first rope of cum jets without warning into me.

I freeze, my lips locked around his hilt, and take it as Dad feeds me. I swallow on his cock in silence, milking him with my throat muscles, taking every drop he offers me as vital sustenance. I slide up slowly when Dad's pulsing finally subsides.

“Show gratitude for your meal, faggot,” Dad commands me, the first words spoken to me in two and a half hours on my knees under the table, “Kiss our crowns, kiss our feet, and then you may leave the table.” I obediently kiss Dad's crown.

I shift to Mom, kissing the crown of her cock as well, before sinking down. I kiss Mom's feet, one and then the other, and then kiss Dad's feet. Finally, I turn, crawling out from underneath the kitchen table, with a belly full of my parents' cum.

“Good boy, faggot,” Mom says cheerfully, as I stand up. I notice there's no pizza left, and two breadsticks, “Did you enjoy your dinner, slut?” I nod immediately, enthusiastically, and my parents both grin at me with naked delight at my answer.

Each one takes one of the last two breadsticks for themselves, as Dad nods. “Good. It's the only meal you'll be getting from now on. You will be expected to show appropriate gratitude, after you are fed, as well. Ungratefulness will be punished.”

“I understand, Dad,” I assure him, “Thank you for allowing me to eat your cocks, Mom, Dad. May I go play video games?” I'm eager to go back to my room, and hoping to have some time to myself, even though I greatly enjoyed eating dinner.

“No, faggot,” Mom replies, “You will serve as our footrest until the twins get home, and then you will service their needs. Go to the living room and kneel between your father's loveseat and the couch, facing the couch, faggot.” I nod obediently.

I turn and walk to the living room, getting to the position commanded and lowering onto my hands and knees, and I wait.

Author's Note:
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