4 Hours

For four hours, I read in silence, before the sound of a knock on the doorframe. I look over to see Mom standing, leaning up against the doorframe. She smiles at me as I reach for the bookmark and then promptly set the book on the nightstand.

“Good, fag,” Mom says, jerking her head in a silent come command. I slide off the bed, onto my knees, then crawl to her to kneel at her feet. She watches me, until she is looking down at me, and she nods with satisfaction, freeing her thick meat.

“Get to work, slut,” Mom commands, and I immediately lean forward. The programmed compulsion guides me into licking her meat, and I flex my tongue wide on her shaft. My eyes focus up on hers, knowing that Mom likes eye contact as I work.

Mom watches me for a moment, her arms crossed, until I drive the tip of my tongue against her frenulum. I grind, firmly, and Mom's stern expression and irritable posture endures for a moment. She growls, but her growl melts into a low purr.

“Fuck, yes,” Mom lets her tension out, wherever it's from, in a long, low sigh, “Fuck. You're going to be just so good for my emotional health, faggot. I don't think I'll ever be mad again with a whore like you in the house to rip an edge off for me.”

“Aw,” I moan softly against Mom's cock as I lick her again, purring, letting my voice raise in pitch, “Mama loves me. Mama can't get enough of me. Mama wants more more more me.” Her cheeks turn pink as she blinks, eyes widening down at me.

“Shut the fuck up, faggot!” she replies animatedly, but her eyes are twinkling even before she grins down at me, actually giggling, the rich sound bubbling into the air, “Fuck. You're so good, my sweet little slut.” Mom's arms uncross smoothly.

One palm on her hip, she slides her fingers into my hair as I worship her. She smiles, stroking her fingers through my hair as I kneel for her, simply licking her cock repeatedly. I don't ask why she was suddenly in a bad mood. It's been four hours.

It could be any number of things, and I wouldn't do her any proper service by asking. As I kiss her crown, I look up at her, and I hum inquisitively. When Mom nods, I slide my mouth down on her, letting her massive shaft stretch my lips taut.

Descending slow, I take Mom's cock to the hilt. I slide my arms around Mom's thighs and steady myself. Jerking my head forward hard as I tighten my arms to pull, I forcefully take Mom's balls into my mouth, holstering her inside me, entirely.

“Oh, holy fuck!” Mom gasps in pleasure, the hand on my head suddenly turning into a feral, iron grasp, holding my head, pushing down hard. For a moment, she forces me to stay, my eyes focused on the only thing I can see. Soft skin, clean hair.

Mom's cooing moan of pleasure is music in my ears, as I hold my breath and let her hold my head down. Just for a minute, I kneel like this, swallowing around her cock, my tongue caressing her balls. Finally, Mom pulls my hair, jerking her hips.

Her jewels slip out of my mouth smoothly, glistening in the artificial electric lights of my bedroom and the hallway, both. Mom gently guides my head up, and I moan on her, offering vibrations as she escorts me to air. When I can, I inhale deep.

Her hand continues to pull my hair, sliding me up until my mouth leaves her cock entirely. I look up at her, furrowing my eyebrows, and Mom smiles. Her hand slides down to cup my face, stroking my cheekbone lovingly with her thumb, now.

“You didn't have to do that, my sweet little whore,” Mom says, her voice now warm and light. I nuzzle into her hand and smile up at her lovingly.

“I wanted to, Mom. I want you to feel better,” I answer, “I can tell something happened since dinner. Let me make it feel better?” Mom smiles, brushing her fingers across my cheek, then sliding them back into my hair, and she nods, happily.

“All right, slut, if you really want to,” Mom replies, then pushes my head down hard and bucks her hips, slamming me to her hilt. Her balls force themselves into my mouth again, and I swallow around her cock, gently nursing on Mom's jewels.

“Thank you, slut, and thank you for not asking me what happened,” Mom says, making it clear she probably wouldn't tell me. Likely it is either about me, and knowing would upset me, or it has nothing to do with me, and is none of my business.

In either case, I can make it better by having her holstered, by doing this. Her cock lodged in my throat from her crown all the way down to her hilt, so deep her balls are in my mouth. I suck gently on Mom's nuts, swallowing hard on her phallus.

Mom holds my head down firmly, ensuring I know I am forbidden to rise on my own. She will pull me up when she's ready and not before, since I offered. For around two minutes, Mom holds my head down, letting me hold my breath and serve.

She pulls me up by my hair, and the stinging sensation in my lips extends to my scalp. Just enough to let me breathe in, to refill my lungs with the scent of her, then she slams me back down hard. I grunt with the forcefulness, but I don't resist it.

Up, then down, repeating like a pendulum travelling unusually slow, until her cock started to pulse. She pulled me up one last time, then slammed me back down again once I'd refreshed the air in my lungs, and then her cock erupted inside me.

I continue to swallow, taking every drop into my stomach. I focus my eyes on the hair and skin at her base, kneeling and servicing her with loving contentment. Patiently, I wait through eighteen pulses of dense, heavy cream, as Mom unloads.

One last time, she pulls my head up, until her balls slide free, and then ever more of her massive cock. When my throat is clear, I breathe in, filling my lungs with the warm musk of her aroma. I look up, renewing eye contact, and Mom smiles.

“Thank you, slut,” Mom says, pulling my hair until her cock sways free from my lips, “Bed, now. You've had a long second day in your new life and our slut needs to be well-rested.” Given I have no rights and it's also close to 10:00 PM, I just nod.

“Yes, Mom!” I answer, and she strokes my hair back.

“Good boy. Good night, faggot,” Mom says, turning and leaving before I can stand up. Once I return to my feet, I click the switch off for the light and pull myself into my bed, wriggling under the covers and slumping with my head on the pillow.

Sleep comes like Mom and Dad never do: fast.