Into My Mouth

Over the course of two hours, I remain on my knees, trailing kisses down Dad's cock, just to have an excuse to lick my way back up. I moan soft, offering sensual vibrations through my tongue as I draw it up the length of his shaft, my eyes on his.

Dad smiles down at me, the hand on my head holding me steady for his service. He offers me a warm, soft growl, watching my tongue slide up him. For two hours, Dad murmurs to me encouragingly, telling me what a faggot I am, how good I am.

He tells me how proud of me he is, as my tongue grinds against his frenulum, worshipful and docile. My eyes flutter up at him, each time I kiss his crown, and start to kiss down his rod. His smile is brilliant and beautiful, as he simply savours me.

The bond between us has always been good and strong, but this is even better. I love the taste of his meat, the warm musk of his scent in my lungs. When his cock starts to pulse, his smile widens, his teeth gleaming in the living's room's lighting.

“Open wide, faggot,” Dad commands, as he pulls my head back from him. My mouth opens immediately, as wide as I can to comply with his order. His free hand moves from the armrest to his cock, and he strokes his shaft hard and fast as he aims.

The first thick rope of cream pumps into my mouth a heartbeat later, and my eyes flutter and widen. The sensation of his release floods my senses. His cum is creamy and thick, with a rich, sweet flavour, that makes me moan involuntarily at it.

I wait until his second pulse, then the third, until Dad commands me to swallow. Every third pulse, I swallow again, taking Dad's milk into my stomach. Eighteen pulses of cream in all, I swallow, my eyes on Dad's as he draws the last drop out of it.

“Lick it up, slut,” Dad commands. My tongue immediately extends, stroking worshipfully over his crown, gently collecting the last vestiges of his cream. He smiles at me, releasing his cock to let it continue to stand before my face, still steel-hard.

“You are going to service me again, now, faggot,” Dad tells me, “I think I will be generous, since I am so proud of you, slut. Do you want to choose how I use you, this time, or do you want me to promise to feed my milk to you when I am ready?”

“Please feed it to me, Dad!” I answer immediately, and Dad grins at me.

“Such a fucking faggot,” Dad chuckles, rubbing my scalp lovingly, “You didn't even need to think about it, fucking whore.” My cheeks warm, but I smile and roll my shoulders, turning my palms up. His milk is delicious. I enjoyed it on my tongue.

“All right, fag, I promise,” Dad strokes my cheek with his thumb, “I will use you however I please, but when I'm ready, I'll feed it to you, directly, the same way I just did. You should be warned, though, every serving will be about that same size.”

“Good!” I answer immediately, and Dad grins at me, teeth gleaming in the artificial lights of the living room, and the pure, natural sunlight coming in through the living room window. I moan softly against his cock, as I lick my way up his length.

Author's Note:
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