Holstered

By the time Dad starts to pulse in across my tongue and in my throat, my face has warmed to a modest pink shade. Dad's consistent rhythm of his hips slapping my face has made them sting. I can handle it, though, and I let Dad use me, freely.

He didn't hesitate to start, but I saw the twitch of his brow when he noticed my cheeks turning pink. Instead of continuing and letting my face sting, he exerts more control over his own motion. I moan, lovingly, with appreciation, as he slams in.

By the time he pulses for the first time, after near two hours of using me, the pain has faded. He still hammers in swift and hard, ploughing my throat as if he owns it. I moan around him, letting him slam into me, his jewels slapping into my chin.

As the pulsations of his cock intensify, Dad grips the back of my head firmly with one palm. I can see the muscle tension as it increases, as he readies. I can tell he intends to make the last thrust the hardest, and I try to prepare myself to endure it.

When he slams in, he shoves my head down hard at the same time. My hands pressed to the front of his thighs, Dad slams in with such force that his balls shove into my mouth with ease. I stare blankly at the wiry curls almost touching my eyes.

Thick cream pumps into the lowest quarter of my throat, but my lungs are full. My hands flex against his thighs, and then slide around, as Dad growls approvingly, aroused and satisfied, “That's it, faggot! Hold on and fucking take it, you whore!”

I have little choice, holding my breath around his cock. Instead of resistance, I decide to give him what he really deserves. I flex my tongue against his nuts and suck hard, massaging his jewels. Dad groans loudly, more cream pumping into me.

For about two minutes, and a dozen and a half pulses, Dad's seed jets into me in long, heavy ropes. I swallow repeatedly as I take it all into my stomach. I close my eyes, unable to see anything but dark brown-black hair, anyway, and focus on this.

When his hips finally pull back, my throat milking him of every gram of seed, I moan. Air flees from my lungs as soon as it can, and I inhale his aroma deeply as soon as my airways are unrestricted. Dad smiles at me with pride, as I open my eyes.

“Good boy, faggot, you did so well!” he praises, “I knew you could do it! Never doubted you for a second, slut!” I blush, but I grin up at him, kissing his crown lovingly. I wrap my hand around as much of it as I can, and start stroking his thick rod.

“Let's go again, Dad,” I murmur, licking him from hilt to helm, “You're still hard. That means you need another round of service, don't you?” Dad grins at me so wide his teeth gleam in the artificial electric lights of my bedroom, and he nods.

“Fucking little slut!” he laughs, “Yes, it does!” He slaps his cock against my cheek, and I moan softly for his pleasure, lips brushing his cock as I turn my face toward it. I don't know how he's going to use me for round two, but I'm ready, now!

Author's Note:
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