Cock Worship

“Do that, faggot,” Rickie pulls my hair, dragging me forward onto the porch as he steps back and leans against one of the posts of the front porch. “Show me what a complete faggot you are, show me how right your Mom is about you, little fag.”

Ordered to worship his fat prick, I do as I am commanded. I lick my way up his shaft again, and then kiss the crown, before kissing my way down. I glide my tongue up his length again, focusing my eyes up on his as he stares down. His hold mine.

I lick lovingly, focusing my eyes on his with total gratitude and utter devotion, as programmed. He watches me licking his meat, from the hilt to the crown, my every motion a declaration that his cock is the best thing I've ever put my mouth on.

He bites his lip, his fingers curling around the railing as he lets me worship him in full view of anyone walking past. At this point in the evening, that's a dog-walker, at most, but it won't matter if anyone sees me servicing cock on our front porch.

I kneel, loving it as I focus all of my attention on maintaining eye contact and worshipping his cock. He bites his lower lip, staring down at me, breathing deeply and squeezing the railing so hard his knuckles are turning white with his intensity.

“That's it, faggot,” he murmurs softly, his thick cock proudly standing between us, against my face, “Worship that cock.” His fingers flex and stretch, releasing the railing, only to curl back around it and clamp down again, tightening to white.

I moan gently against him, offering pleasurable vibrations in addition as I kiss my way down his meat. I continue to moan as I let my tongue glide back to his crown, grinding the tip against the sensitive nerve-endings of Rickie's taut frenulum.

Beads of clear arousal form at the crown, and I lick them up, swallowing them contentedly before kissing my way back to his hilt. I gently lick his balls, caressing them with my tongue, before working my tongue back up to his tip once more.

“Fuck!” he hisses in pleasure, “Fucking faggot! You love this, don't you?” I moan an affirmation against his cock, and Rickie shudders in arousal, but his face breaks into a bright, beaming smile. He forces one hand to leave the railing and to move.

His fingers brush into my hair, caressing gently, stroking my scalp. He brushes my hair out of my eyes, watching happily. Rickie sighs as he just relaxes and enjoys my mouth. “If I'd known what an easy little fag you actually are, earlier, slut ...”

He breaks off as I kiss the crown of his cock and start back down his meat, another trail of kisses down one side of his rod. Rickie purrs in contentment. “Never mind that, faggot. You're worshipping me now and I'm going to enjoy this moment.”

Author's Note:
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