On My Face

Even while I am unaccustomed to kneeling for so long, it feels like a breeze, as I kneel before Dad, licking a path up his rod. I kiss a loving path down his meat, each time, before flexing my tongue wide, ensuring as much is against him as possible.

Dad watches my face, his dark brown eyes like diamonds focused on mine, shining. He smiles at me with absolute pride as he growls, low and warm, watching me worship him. Dad's hand on my head flexes, holding me steady, but without pain.

“That's a good faggot,” Dad praises me, “Show me what a whore you are.” His praise is like that, as I kneel before him, for two hours of reverent worship. I lick my way up, kiss my way down, and Dad alternates between growling, and praising.

I never have to wonder if he appreciates my attention. He never lets me doubt it, never lets me have a heartbeat of doubt. Moaning soft against his cock, I offer him sensual vibrations through my tongue, each time I lick a path up Dad's phallus.

He smiles continuously, until his cock starts to pulse. His fingers curl in my hair, pulling my head back, until his cock slips from my mouth. I look up as he growls at me once more, his free hand moving to his cock to stroke himself, fast and hard.

“Close your eyes, fag,” Dad commands, and my eyes snap obediently shut. My brain rewires to rationalise it in conjunction with how my best friend brainwashed me. I feel the first thick pulse of Dad's cum pump across my face, and then, another.

Eighteen pulses in all, Dad drenches my face utterly in his cream. My face coated so completely in his milk that he couldn't see any dry skin, Dad flexes his fingers, massaging my scalp, growling softly, “Tongue out so I can clean my cock, faggot.”

My tongue immediately extends through cum-soaked lips, and I moan as I taste his milk. Creamy and thick, with a flavour rich and sweet, better than anything I could've imagined. I never thought of cum as tasting so good, but Dad's is amazing.

I wait as he draws his crown across my tongue, cleaning off, leaving a dollop of his cream on the tip of my tongue. I don't hesitate to swallow when he's done, before lifting my hands to clean my face. I rub his cream into my skin, unhesitating.

“Good boy, faggot,” Dad praises me, “You are going to service me again. I might even allow you to drink my milk, rather than wear it, next time.” I smile, opening my eyes once I am done cleaning my face, once my skin and hands are fully dry.

I smile up at him, waiting to see how he intends to use me for his second round. He motions, and I back up obediently, to let him have the freedom to stand up. His thick shaft stands proud before my eyes, steel-hard and ready for more service.

As he looks down at me, his hand on my head shifts, stroking his fingers lovingly through my hair. His smile is warm and appreciative, as he visibly mulls over what he wants to do. I can't deny a certain anticipation, after worshipping his cock.

Author's Note:
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