Balls Deep

For the first few minutes of it, Dad's hips slap harshly into my face, turning my cheeks pink. When Dad notices, though, he adjusts, asserting a level of self-control that is impressive, incredible. His pace doesn't slow, nor does his thrusting lighten.

Yet without softening the intensity of his use of my mouth, his hips simply cease to slap against my cheeks. His balls sway hard, hitting my chin with every stroke, but each smooth, driving thrust, stops and reverses course before any full impact.

“Sorry, whore!” Dad groans the words out as he looks down into my eyes, with an authenticity that makes my heart race. He earnestly does not want to cause me pain as a result of him pounding me. I swallow, each time his balls strike my chin.

Dad moans soft in satisfaction, feeling my throat stroke his cock, each time his hips stop short of my cheeks. I breathe him in, filling my lungs with his aromatic musk, each time his shaft leaves my throat. I simply sit in my chair, taking Dad's rod.

When his meat starts to pulse, his thrusts intensify. His hand on my head slides forward, cupping the back of my head, and I can feel him readying. One last slam, and he holds my head down on him. I suck hard on the root suppressing my tongue.

He moans in satisfaction, smiling down at me as he maintains eye , as the first pulse floods my throat. For roughly two minutes, Dad's seed pumps into the lower half of my throat. I swallow, every time I feel Dad's cock pulsing inside me.

I breathe in around him as he withdraws, slow and smooth, ensuring he doesn't hurt me on the way out. I smile up at him lovingly, licking his cock as soon as it leaves my mouth. He strokes my hair affectionately, “You enjoy my cock, huh, slut?”

“Mm-Hmm!” I answer, flexing my tongue wide against his underside, offering vibrations through it into his still-hard rod. He offers me a smug smirk, his fingers curling against my scalp. The massaging grind makes me smile brightly up at him.

“Guess I don't need to ask if you're willing to offer me another round of service, do I?” Dad teases, beaming down at me as his teeth gleam in the artificial electric lights of my bedroom. I moan negatively in response to his question, eyes focused.

“No,” I murmur, “Use me again, Dad. However you want!” Dad slaps his cock against my cheek, stroking my hair lovingly. He wears an expression of sublime pride as he looks down at me, the same expression he had when I made honour roll.

Dad and I have always had an excellent relationship with one another. Not in this context, but as his palm cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek, I can't help but smile. I sit in my chair, licking his cock, letting Dad decide how he'll use me.

Author's Note:
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