Stuffing

For two hours, I kneel before Mom, caressing every millimetre of her cock with my mouth. Her smile encourages me as my lips trail kisses down her meat, the low murmur of appreciation as she tells me what a faggot I am as my tongue slides up.

I moan lovingly, offering pleasurable vibrations to her meat, every time I grind the tip of my tongue against Mom's taut, sensitive frenulum. Her pleasure is real, her cock rock-hard and beautiful, the scent and taste of her is utterly enchanting.

When her cock starts to pulse, Mom curls her fingers into my hair, and she readies to pull. She doesn't do it without any warning, though, as she looks down at me. “Are you ready to take my cock all the way? I am going to pull you down on it.”

“Mm,” I answer with a soft moan, flexing my tongue wide on her underside and drawing it slow up toward Mom's crown, mentally preparing myself. “Mm-Hmm!” I kiss Mom's crown, and she pulls my hair downward, forcing my mouth onto it.

Mom's thick girth stretches my lips so taut it stings, but I don't care. I breathe in the scent of her musk, filling my lungs to their maximum, as Mom shifts from pulling to pushing. Her fingers interlaced on the back of my head, Mom presses down.

My lips slide to her hilt, forced all the way until her balls rest against my lower lip. Her eyes remain locked on mine as she forces me to take the full length of her. My mouth wrapped around her pulsing hilt, I feel my throat conforming around it.

I feel the first thick river of Mom's seed as it pumps into the lower half of my throat, and I swallow around her. Mom gives me a low moan in reward, as pulse after pulse of cream stuffs my throat. Forced to swallow, I take it all into my stomach.

I won't deny feeling a little cheated, in a sense. Phallic milk is supposed to be delicious, and I'm not getting to taste any of Mom's, right now. The thickness and mass, and the sheer duration of her release, tells me she's feeding me milk, though.

My eyes focused on hers, though, I can't be mad. Her smile is warm and vibrant, the pride in her eyes readily apparent, as I swallow, as I take it. Her moan is wordless, formless, but melodic, drowning my ears in the sound of Mom's sexual delight.

When the pulsation subsides, she holds herself deep, even still. I look up, and I swallow around her again, just a few more times. She smiles as I milk her with my throat, ensuring I receive it all, ensuring I take every drop that she could provide.

Only then, Mom slowly pulls out of my mouth, drawing herself free from my lips. Her breasts rise and fall slowly, looking down at me, still more-or-less dressed, aside having her cock out. It stands hard and proud before my eyes as she smiles.

“I need another round of service, slut,” Mom tells me directly, “but I am tremendously proud of you. You worshipped my cock so well, faggot, that I am going to give you a rare privilege. You can make one request for how I use you, coming up.”

“Thank you, Mom,” I answer, licking my lips slowly, “That was milk, right? You are able to produce actual phallic milk?” Mom nods, and I lick my lips slowly, once more, holding open my mouth and sticking out my tongue to show it's empty.

“Please, Mom, may I taste it, next time? I would like to feel it on my tongue,” I plead, and Mom beams at me, her smile a wide one with her teeth gleaming in the kitchen's artificial lights. She strokes her cock in front of my face, slow, smug.

“Promise, slut. I will let you drink it, I will cum straight on your tongue,” Mom says, “That's a promise. Now get ready to service my cock a second time, whore, because you're going to earn your milk before I give it to you the way you asked.”

Author's Note:
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