Holstered

“Deep breath, fag!” she orders urgently, and I breathe in, my lungs flooding with the scent of her musk, and then her cock slides in. She pulls my hair gently, but firmly, until her cock rests hilt-deep in my mouth, and she gives one hard last buck.

Amy forces her balls in my mouth, her thick meat pulsing in my throat. Both hands on my head, my eyes flutter quietly as I stare mindlessly at the soft skin and trimmed hair in front of my eyes. My throat stretches with every hard pulse within.

“Swallow, faggot,” she orders breathlessly, purring in pleasure as she feels my throat milking her cock obediently, taking what she feeds me. My throat muscles contract and relax rhythmically, mechanically, swallowing several times around it.

My lungs start to burn, but I continue to mindlessly swallow until the pulses end. She slides back slow, her balls slipping free of my mouth, and then more and more of her prick. I huff a breath out instinctively and breathe in, as soon as I can.

Amy strokes my hair as she pulls back completely, leaving no mess on my face, just my belly, stuffed with her thick and heavy load. I stare blankly, brainless and under her control, as her crown leaves my mouth, my eyes focused on her rod.

“Fuck this is awesome,” she sighs happily, cooing as she brushes her prick across my face, using my cheeks to dry it off. My eyes remain staring blindly as she dries off with my hair a bit, too, before stuffing her prick back in her shorts again.

—

Author's Note:

At this point, the story has a convergence at Chapter 5: “Deactivate.”
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