Dad Makes Me Clean Him

As Mom readies for her turn, Dad pulls my hair hard, dragging me onto my hands and knees facing him with my ass to the garage door. I look up for a moment before he rams his cock into my mouth and down my throat, as Mom grabs my hips.

“Clean it, faggot,” Dad orders, as Mom aligns herself. She shows none of Dad's initial slow sweetness, and instead slams her cock to the hilt in the first drive, ramming in so hard Dad's balls press hard against my chin. Dad just sneers smugly at me.

Then he jerks his hips hard, slamming me bodily back onto Mom's prick. I grunt in answer, but it's too late and it's already happening. Mom and Dad form a rhythmic cycle, one slamming me into the other. My body jerks between their thick rods.

I grip Dad's hips simply to steady myself, as Dad's hips slap against my face, using my throat as cock-sleeve and cock-wash in equal measure. My eyes flutter as I stare at his hips, my body bouncing hard and fast, as Mom and Dad double-team me.

My ass and lips stretch taut around cock, taking both to the hilt with the slap of nuts from one side steady as a metronome in my ears. All I can do now is moan and take it, holding onto Dad for some semblance of stability as both of them use me.

I close my eyes and moan on Dad's cock as Mom hammers my prostate, with all the same skill and precision that Dad used. While I haven't ever had fantasies about this, I cannot deny how much I am enjoying it. I arch, involuntarily, in pleasure.

“I'll bet you wish you had a cock in either hand, too, don't you, fag?” Dad asks rhetorically as he hammers into my mouth, but he's right. If the twins were home, I'd have my hands wrapped about their cocks, and I'd be stroking them right now.

As Dad's cock slams down my throat, knocking me back onto Mom's, I enjoy it. I feel an odd sense of contentment at being not only seen and known, but approved of and appreciated. There's no shaming, no condemnation, I'm simply being used.

Mom's pace is relentless, her grip on my hips iron, but iron perfectly tightened to avoid causing pain. My hips aren't going anywhere, but her grip is pleasant, like a hug, or holding on tight to something precious but something that could break.

Dad's grip on my head is identical, his pace just as merciless. Mom and Dad slam into me without ruth or concern, simply taking what they want from me, absent of anything that even peripherally resembles consideration or parental concern.

For two hours, Mom and Dad hammer me between them, my throat stretched to conform to the shape of Dad's cock every time he slams in. My own cock achingly hard, I moan on Dad's cock as Mom grinds her thick shaft hilt-deep into my ass.

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