Dad Gets Home

For a while, Mom hums, subtly joyful as I bob my head on her cock, sucking lovingly on the hard shaft stretching my lips taut enough it stings. I don't mind, and I know the more I do it the more I'll adapt to it and, thus, the less painful it'll be.

When we hear the sound of Dad's car in the driveway, Mom puts one hand on my head as she continues cooking dinner. Her fingers stroke through my hair lovingly, but she lets me continue sucking her. “Go to your father when he comes in.”

“Mm,” I moan softly around her cock, offering Mom sensual vibrations, “Mm-Hmm.” She doesn't stop me from servicing, maybe because it's where I belong, now, but she still ignores me, other than the hand on my head, until the door opens.

One light tug on my hair and her hand leaves my head, as Dad steps into the kitchen. He glances down at me only once, as my mouth slides up Mom's cock, and I hear his hands on the counter. I listen as he leans over me, kissing Mom on the lips.

“Hey baby,” Dad says, “How is he?” I know Dad must be asking about me, since I'm the only one of their children currently home, but I don't look up. I simply blow gently on Mom's cock, drying her meat so that she's not left wet and unattended.

“Soft, pliant,” Mom replies, as I focus my attention on her hips, gently tucking her cock back in, covering her up properly. Then I carefully reposition, turning bodily to face my Dad while remaining on my knees. Only then both look down at me.

“I think faggots should be nude in this house, baby,” Dad says, and Mom hums, then nods, as Dad looks back at me, “Strip. Leave your clothes behind, now, faggot. I'll put them in the laundry later, but you don't get to wear clothes in our house.”

My cheeks warm, but I obediently pull my shirt off over my head, then drop it on the floor. I slide my hips out of both my shorts and my boxer-briefs, next, stripping myself bare on the kitchen floor. I don't get up, even as I strip myself to nude.

“Good, faggot,” Dad says, turning and walking away, “Come, fag.” I push myself up quickly and follow Dad into the living room, watching him sit in his loveseat. He takes off his shoes and socks, setting them neatly aside, then spreads his legs.

I don't need to be told what that means, now. As Dad unbuttons and unzips, I drop to my hands and knees. I get between his legs and kneel. When his cock springs free, I wait as he slides his pants down, enough they won't be getting in my way.

I lean forward, inhaling the savoury musk of my Dad's cock as I touch my tongue to his exposed underside. Offering him a long, slow lick, from hilt to crown, I focus my brown eyes on his. He smiles as he looks down at me, leaning back, relaxing.

“Good, faggot,” Dad praises me, and I smile as I kiss his crown, kissing my way down his shaft, keeping my eyes up on his, and he sighs softly in approval. “Very good. This is your place in our household from now on, faggot. Not anywhere else.”

“Mm. Mm-Hmm,” I answer with a soft, submissive moan against his cock as I lick my way up his massive shaft. His cock is just as big as Mom's. There's no reason for me to deny my place, not after having been eagerly servicing Mom's, just now.

Author's Note:
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