On My Tongue

Over two hours, Dad hammers my mouth hard, relentless, but the cheek-reddening slap of his hips is short-lived. When he notices my cheeks turning painful pink, he asserts absolute control over himself. His rhythm shifts, by only millimetres.

The shift is just enough that his balls slap my chin, audible while not painful, but his hips don't slam into my face. I moan, appreciatively, each time his hips sway backward, drawing himself out. Each time he lets me, I breathe in his warm aroma.

As commanded, I settle in my chair with my hands on his hips. I absolutely refuse to bite him, since needing to bite Dad's cock is inconceivable. He hammers into me like a smooth, precision machine, his cock a piston slamming into its housing.

I can feel it when his cock pulses for the first time, deep in my throat, as I swallow when his nuts hit my chin. Dad's phallic monster continues to hammer in for a few more strokes, before he issues a guttural growl. “Going to feed you soon, slut!”

Two more thrusts, and then his hips smoothly sway backward. He withdraws, until the rim of his helm settles in my lips. Scarcely a heartbeat later, the first pulse of Dad's seed lands on my tongue. My eyes widen as the sensation of it registers.

His cum is creamy and thick, somewhere between honey and water. It has a rich, flavourful sweetness, delectable in the manner I felt sceptical it would until now. I moan involuntarily, and Dad grins down at me, satisfied with my reaction.

“Guess you like my milk, huh?” Dad crows with smug satisfaction. I hold up both hands and give him the finger with the both of them. Even as his cum continues to flood my mouth and I swallow it, Dad's abdomen shakes as he laughs at me.

For about two minutes, and around eighteen pulses, I simply sit in my chair, swallowing. Once Dad's pulsation subsides, he glides his fingers up his shaft. I've masturbated, I recognise the motion, I know he's squeezing out the last vestiges for me.

I lap his cream up from his crown, swallowing happily, before he withdraws fully. He strokes my hair lovingly, brushing it back, ensuring our eye contact remains unbroken, unbreakable. Like the bond we've shared all my life, if forever changed.

“I am terribly proud of you, slut,” Dad coos the words like a benediction of love, “You know most sluts can't take my cock all the way like that, not on the first time.” Dad sure knows how to solicit a response of pride within my chest. I just smile.

“Thank you for saying that, Dad,” I murmur, licking him from hilt to helm, “I love you. Your cock is still so hard, though. You're not done, are you? Please use me again. I want to serve.” Dad smiles as I worship his cock without making him ask.

“Gladly,” Dad tells me, “I am going to let you have a minute to catch your breath and enjoy my cock, first, though, while I decide how to use you.” I moan lovingly, appreciatively, as I deliver a trail of loving kisses down the length of Dad's cock.

Author's Note:
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