Painting

Mom's hips pump against my ass until she can no longer resist, and pulls herself free of me. I continue to lick Dad's cock in the moment, as I feel the first pulse of Mom's release land on me. I can feel it stripe my from my shoulder down to my ass.

My eyes widen at the sheer length of her shot, and, then, at how many. A dozen and a half times, Mom's seed stripes down my back, until it finally stops. Mom sighs behind me, and I feel her wiping her crown off on a part of my ass that's still dry.

“Whew, damn, that's a mess, isn't it? Guess I should probably clean this up, since this faggot can't reach this, himself,” she says, and I moan softly as I feel her hands on me. Mom's hands forcefully stroke their way up and down my back and ass.

It takes her a few minutes, before her hands are dry, my skin silk-soft and clean, smelling like her cream. Her caress is soft and warm, as she rubs me a little more. I can feel the love in her touch, that she's enjoying touching me however she likes.

“Oh, this is the best thing, ever, babe,” Mom says to Dad, before sliding her hands down to my hips, slapping my ass, once, on each side, “Good boy, faggot. You took my cock so well.” She strokes my ass gently with both hands, before she moves.

I watch her move across my periphery as I continue licking Dad's cock, waiting for him to take his second round with me, maintaining eye contact. Dad only watches me as I worship his meat, waiting for him to make a decision on how to use me.

Amy leans against the couch, watching me servicing him, watching as Mom used my ass. I smile up at him, lovingly, as my mouth waits for his cock. I know he's going to put it in me, now, that he's going to stuff my mouth the same way Mom did.

“Are you ready to service me more fully, now that your mother's finished with you, until dinner, faggot?” he asks, his tone warm and loving, his words permissive. I can tell, even with me having accepted that this is my life, I'm still his son, too.

“I'm ready, Dad! Go ahead!” I assure him happily, “Thank you for asking!” He strokes my cheek, letting me know he feels content with asking, not put out. He didn't ask because he felt like he had to, he asked because he simply wanted to ask.

“Good boy, faggot,” Dad says, standing up and looking down at me as he prepares to make use of me for his own pleasure. He won't worry about mine, not now, but my consent and readiness still matter enough that he considers it worth asking.

“Amy, dear, why don't you stay for dinner?” Mom asks, from the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“He's gonna be so full of cum he won't be hungry for human food anymore,” Mom says, and Amy giggles.

“All right, I'll stay for dinner. Gotta make sure my best friend is well-fed!” Amy says, and I shudder, whimpering on my Dad's cock, but he doesn't slow down in using my face as a masturbation tool, “I'll be very thorough with the finalisation.”

“Very thorough?” Mom asks as she puts her cock away, “Meaning...?”

“Don't bother sending him back to college in September, he'll be nothing but a cum-fed faggot cock slave,” Amy answers, “No point wasting a college education on a free-use faggot cock slave like this little whore will be!”

“Get ready for your turn, then, Amy,” Dad says as he pushes me back and stands up, his cock still in my mouth, “I'm going to go ahead and use him until I blow, and then he's all yours to permanently brainwash and lock into his brand new life.”

Author's Note:
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Here the story continues in Chapter 23: Harsh Irrumatio, or Chapter 23: Fellatio, as Dad uses me.