“Lick, faggot,”

Dad commands, “You've shown you can take my cock, now I want you to show me just how much you love to service me.” My eyes flutter up at him, and I smile warmly, loving it as Dad calls me a faggot, again. I lick my lips first, slow and sensual.

“Aw, Dad,” I purr, fluttering my eyelashes at him, leaning in to kiss Dad's velvety plush crown. I pepper kisses down along his cock, murmuring all the words I can think of that could accurately describe Dad's wonderful, magnificent phallic shaft.

Dad stands over me, watching me, his lips curved in a proudly approving smile. I flex my tongue as wide as I can, pressing as much of it as possible to his cock. My eyes focused on him, I lick up the underside of his shaft slowly, as slowly as I can.

“Fuck, yes,” Dad growls the words, his low rumble soft and warm in my ears, as I sit in my chair, lovingly worshipping his thick phallic muscle. He slithers the fingers of one hand into my hair as he relaxes, standing in front of me, looking down.

My dark brown eyes remain riveted to his, tracking and processing his pleasure. I lick my way up his meat, letting him see me work my tongue against him. I moan softly, letting his flavour drench and saturate my taste buds, all the way up him.

“You like this, you little whore?” Dad growls the words, “Dad just walking into your room to have his cock serviced by you and knowing you're such a slut?” I answer by kissing the crown, rolling my tongue around it slow and sensual, moaning.

I focus my eyes on his, letting him see the answer, rather than say it, aloud. Grinding the tip of my tongue against the soft, sensitive frenulum, I moan more, offering pleasurable vibrations into the most receptive part of Dad's thick, heated shaft.

Dad growls, and I smile up at him warmly as my mouth starts to travel back down. I kiss his meat in a peppering trail, as I let my mouth travel down from his crown to his jewels. He curls his fingers slowly, massaging my scalp as I worship him.

“You're doing so well, faggot,” Dad says, his words a low, velvet sigh, as he looks down at me. He stares into my eyes, and occasionally at my mouth. I flex my tongue, pressing as much to the hilt of his shaft as I can, before licking a slow ascent.

“Love the taste, Dad,” I moan in answer, my eyes focused on his as he looks at my questioningly, as if to ask what I love the taste of, exactly, so I murmur, “You.” Dad groans in arousal, as I continue licking and kissing, worshipping his entire shaft.

His eyes focus on me, and his teeth gleam in the artificial electric lights of my room as he smiles wide. Pleasure, and pride, colour Dad's expression as he watches my movements. As I slide my tongue up, I moan, offering up strong vibrations on it.

I've always worked hard to make my parents proud, but I never expected to make Dad proud of how well I can tend to his cock. His eyes don't leave mine, even as he watches the movements of my mouth, as I kiss my way down his length, again.

“Your scent is so warm and pleasant, Dad,” I murmur against him as I pepper his meat with a trail of kisses, leading down to his jewels, once more. “You're so big, too ...” At that, Dad's smile expands into a beaming, almost blinding, grin, at me.

“Your mother and I have reached the maximum, according to scientific examiners,” Dad says, brushing his fingers gently through my hair, caressing my scalp with his fingertips. “You want to know how big your mother and I are, little whore?”

Like any normal twenty-year-old would, I would have said fuck no to that, two days ago. Kneeling before him and licking it, worshipping him dutifully, I nod gently. I moan, softly, murmuring an answer against his cock, “Tell me how big, Dad.”

“You're about to learn why I am so proud of you for taking it, then, slut,” Dad tells me, “Your mother and I each have a 39-centimetre length with a 29-centimetre girth. Our cocks grew quite a bit because of how often her and I share playthings.”

“There are a few cock slaves in Santa Rosa,” Dad tells me, “None of them took my cock, or your mother's on their first try. I didn't expect my firstborn to be a cock slut, but, I am proud of you for the fact you've taken it all on your very first time.”

“I just didn't want to let you down, Dad,” I murmur, my cheeks turning to a warm pink under Dad's praising words, “I love you. You deserve to feel good.” Each word is punctuated by another small, sensual kiss to his cock, as I trace a path down.

I moan soft, offering sensual vibrations through my tongue, as I flex it wide against the underside of his cock. Dark brown irises focus on Dad's, as I let him see how much I adore him, as I lick slow. I let myself savour the taste of him against me.

“Damn it. Fuck, those eyes are going to be the death of me,” Dad murmurs, caressing my scalp lovingly with the fingers in my hair, “or the death of my composure and control, and lead to me grabbing you and fucking your mouth hard as I can.”

I can't tell if that is a promise, a threat, or a warning. His smile has faded into a warm, subtler expression of contentment, as I look up at him in doting submission. Devoted licks and reverent kisses offered, travelling up, then back down, his rod.

“You'd enjoy it, though, Dad,” I murmur, as my tongue reaches his crown, before rolling my tongue around his helm. I let the very tip of my glossal muscle grind hard against the soft, sensitive strip of Dad's frenulum, and he groans in pleasure.

“Fuck! Yes, I would!” Dad growls with lust, and incredible restraint, “I don't think you would, though, little faggot whore!” I moan soft, kissing his velvet crown, before offering another trail of reverent kisses all the way down his shaft to his balls.

For two hours, I sit quietly in my chair, worshipping Dad's cock, watching his marvellous restraint with awe. His pleasure, and his pride at my blossoming skill at this, are writ plain on his face. Yet even still, he doesn't simply grab me and take.