Chapter 61

You heard faltering footsteps across the landing. The unsteady pace of someone deep in the bottle, or drowning in distress. You anticipated both… as your step-father pushed his way through the door, without knocking.

"Oh thank God… you're here…" He stated, already unbuckling his trousers.

The man dropped these to the floor immediately, shuffling forwards with them tangled round his ankles. Like a child approaching the excitement of a urinal, clumsy and undignified. He didn’t spare a moment in shoving the phallus that made you, straight into your mouth. Pushing it to the back of your throat as if it belonged nowhere else.

"I can't believe this is actually happening! How far we've fallen… If Marie could see what they're doing in her drawing room!"

He spoke about your mother as if she would still give a single fuck about what had happened to him or this house. As if their messy divorce wasn't what had caused half the monetary problems which had led to this current situation, and she wasn't lounging on a beach somewhere with her personal trainer… probably with his cock just as securely in her cheek.

"And that man. He's just so awful. So awful!"

The swollen length between your lips had started pistoning in and out now, braced against two trembling hands knotting themselves into the hair at the back of your head. You leant your chin upon one elbow and just accepted the face-fucking, used to such treatment by now. The man who'd raised you didn’t really want to acknowledge your existence in these little therapy sessions of his… he just wanted to use your warm holes to console his sore ego.

"To think he had the cheek, the cheek! To say I'd no longer have to pay to do this… while you're all here."

You could feel the genuine relief in the man at such generosity, despite his whingeing. Oh great. So you were going to have to spend half your life here looking over your shoulder for the next time your deadbeat step-father was likely to jump out and bend you over… You were kind of hoping that when he finally hit rock bottom, Skeg was just going to cut him off completely… **** him to just watch as every other man in a 10 mile radius got to fuck his sissy stepson, but he didn't…

Oh well… perhaps that point would still be reached. It wasn’t as if you particularly objected to your step-father's dick as compared to any other. Cock was cock was cock, as far as you were concerned. And you were nothing but a receptacle for it. In and out, in and out. The length of him slid all the way to the back of your throat, bouncing off your tonsils. Once upon a time this would have caused you fits of wheezing coughs and streams of ruined mascara running down your cheeks. But the tool that made your step-sister was hardly the most impressive of sizes, so what little gag reflex you had left was barely touched by it anymore.

You felt your step-father’s balls brushing against your chin with every thrust, and wondered how many other potential step-siblings still dwelled within? How many had you already swallowed, or felt be painted inside your back passages? As once again the throbbing, swelling lump of flesh within your mouth told you it was nearing fruition. The older man's fingers dug into your scalp sharply as he threw himself as far down your gullet as he could, hips bucking erratically now. Warmth flared out across the back of your throat as spurt after spurt of viscous, cloying saltiness was deposited there. Just another load of semen left to drip down into a stomach almost always full of it.

As always, once the deed was done he suddenly seemed near overcome with embarrassment… or possibly even guilt about it. He pulled his deflating shame from between your lips and wiped it quickly upon your cheek, before scurrying from the room. Leaving you to look down upon the dark spots of drooled saliva speckled across your top. Fittingly this one read 'Daddy's Li'l Cocksucker' in large, cutesy letters across the front. A joke purchase by Skeg which the customers seemed to go mad for.

You sat calmly upon the bed of your childhood, staring down at those bright, colourful words in their friendly font. Letting your heart settle and breath return while your parent's flavour slid slowly down the back of your throat. Trying to work out if things had really changed since you were last here… or just become more honestly apparent.