On My Face

For two hours, my mouth slides on Mom's cock, slower or faster at her whim, rising and falling. My lips stretched taut, my mind focused, I take her to the hilt on each stroke downward, even as it stings. I can feel my throat conforming to her rod.

My eyes flutter when Mom's meat starts to pulse against my tongue, and in my throat. I look up at her, as I maintain our eye contact as she desires. She smiles down at me, warm and sweet, watching me servicing her cock, moaning on it as I do.

Mom's fingers stroke through my hair, as she pulses, before getting a firm handhold. I moan softly as Mom pulls my head up, gripping her shaft with her other hand. I watch her start to stroke her cock as she pulls my mouth off of her, entirely.

Before I can think to ask her why she made me stop sucking, the first thick rope of her cum answers my question, landing on my face. She aims her meat with care, as she avoids shooting into my eyes, though she ensures my face is fully soaked.

I look up at her, sustaining the eye contact Mom wants, as her cum pumps from her cock. She drenches ever more of my features with her load, until it might be hard for her to even visibly recognise me as her son, not just a cum-soaked faggot.

“Stick out your tongue, faggot,” Mom says when the last pulsation subsides, as she sneers with smug satisfaction. I swiftly obey, holding out my tongue for her use. Mom slowly strokes her cock down across my tongue, leaving me a drop of milk.

My eyes flutter and I swallow it. Her cum is rich, thick, and creamy, with a flavour that is sweet and wonderful. I can feel my cheeks warm to a soft pink underneath the thick layer of white. Mom simply smirks wide at me, “You had a question?”

“I forgot,” I answer honestly, raising my hands to my face to rub her cum in. strictly out of newly-programmed instincts, courtesy of my brain rewiring. “Oh. Uh, why did you want me to suck your cock, Mom? I've never sucked you off, before.”

“You're a faggot,” Mom replies bluntly, “It is your job to service me. It is your responsibility. Did you enjoy servicing me?” I blink up at her as I finish cleaning my face, and my cheeks warm to a more intense pink. The truth is that I honestly did.

“Yes ... yes, I did, Mom,” I answer, and she slaps her cock across my lips, silencing me. My eyes flutter, staring at the thick shaft standing proud in front of my face. Her meat is still rock-hard, and I can feel Mom's steely rigidness against my lips.

“Good, because you are not done,” Mom tells me forcefully, “You will service me again, now. Since you've been a good fag, and serviced me obediently as you should, once, already ... I will allow you a sublime privilege. You may request for use.”

“A request?” I ask, unclear on her meaning. Mom smiles at me lovingly and strokes my hair back, making sure none of it is in my face, as she nods. She looks down at me, and I wait, patient, and listen when she explains what she means by that.

“Yes. I need to cum a second time. I will let you decide whether you want to worship me until I cum, you want to suck me a second time,” Mom explains, “or I can ride your mouth gently, or fuck your mouth hard. You are servicing me, though.”

“Oh,” I answer, then swallow and nod, the warm, pleasant scent of her musk flooding my lungs, “All right, I think I'd like to ...”

Author's Note:
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