Family Dinner

As I crawl under the kitchen table, I take a deep breath and settle on my knees, watching Mom and Dad both walk into the kitchen. Mom looks refreshed, likely showered while I was attending and servicing Dad, to be clean in time for our dinner.

Family Dinner has always been an important daily ritual in our house, even if it is my first time beneath the kitchen table. I can smell dinner, Mom's wonderful beef stroganoff, which makes me feel a bit of sadness as I won't be getting any of that.

Mom's way of confirming my change of status, I suppose. One of my favourite meals, and I'll be instead under the table on my knees, eating cock. Good thing I am discovering a fondness for cock, I suppose, considering it'll be the only meal I get.

When Dad takes his seat, I scoot forward, already facing his chair. I move between his legs and immediately wrap my lips around his crown. I slide down, but Dad ignores me completely, Dad simply leans against the back of the chair, patiently.

I start to bob my head on his cock, sliding my mouth up and down, moaning until he pats my cheek, waggling a forefinger in front of me. I hush immediately, and he ruffles my hair under the table, then resumes ignoring me, entirely, once more.

I listen, as Mom brings dinner over and sets it on the table, then sits down, and I can see her cock out of the corner of my eye. I listen as she fixes her plate, waiting until she's done, then switching to her cock as Dad stands to fix his own plate.

My mouth slides down onto Mom's cock, wrapping my lips around the hilt. When Dad sits back down, I reach for his cock, curling my fingers around him and starting to stroke. I know they'll both expect service, they'll both expect equal attention.

I slide my hand up and down Dad's cock in slow, smooth motions, fingers tight, while my mouth bobs in the same way on Mom's meat. When my arm is tired, I switch sides, moving my mouth to Dad's cock and gripping Mom's in my other hand.

Above me, Mom and Dad talk — about the weather, about Amy's successful reprogramming, how pleased with it they are. They pause for a moment as Mom tells me that since I've already had four servings of cream, I can take it easy at dinner.

They won't be mad if I don't get them off a third time, underneath the table. If I do, so much the better, of course, I'm sure, but since I've already had a good amount to eat from their cocks, there's no urgent need for me to make them both blow.

I don't take that as permission to not do my best for them, though, and I give the cock in my mouth everything I have, no matter which one it is. I suck hard, but I don't moan, having been warned off of it, as it'd distract them as they're talking.

Balancing evenly between them, at least, I can be certain of one thing: I'll either get no additional milk, or I'll receive two more servings of cream. I won't make one blow without the other, that much I'm sure of, that much will be intentional.

Author's Note:
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