"Inferiority looks good on you," My boss grinned as he pressed me down. "You beg for this dick, and now you wince like a little bitch? Pathetic."
I groaned as he insistently pushed his thick mushroom head in deep. I came in to give my notice, but he knew just how to retain me.
After a month, he'd nearly bulldozed my gag reflex, but he didn't rest on his laurels.
The sound of my choking was music to his ears, and he played me like a virtuoso, again and again pushing me to the point of failure. After all, it's a manager's job to help his employee excel.
I don't need to tell him he's magnificent. He carries himself like a god, and my knees buckle with the urge to worship.
He erupts and ties my tongue with ropes of cum. I can hardly stammer a thank you as he smirks downward. He's accustomed to sycophants, but my throat is divine.
The library was a refuge for me, a place where I could imagine a life I couldn't live. He was a professor and I was a student, but we seemed to have this in common.
He would smirk mischievously whenever our eyes met. Every time I looked at him, fantasies swept me off my feet.
"I'll wear a mask the whole time," I swore. "I won't see your face."
And vitally, he wouldn't see mine. He wouldn't know who'd begged to blow him, who'd flattered his ego and obeyed his orders.
"Fine," my stepfather finally replied, "I'll send a pin. Wait there on your knees."
Mr. Hill's dick was big, but it was his presence that was colossal. He filled rooms with his deep voice and imperious gait.
He felt larger than life—bragging how he'd ruin my hole for other men—and making good on that promise. It was like being really fucked for the first time.
He was big—too big—but whining wouldn't help me. He intended to get his money's worth, and every strained yelp just spurred him on.
I couldn't afford the rent my landlord demanded, but his friends were all too happy to 'donate' for a chance to demolish me each month.
I'd left my husband still snoring in bed, but his dad was an early riser. Robe open, cock laid bare, he didn't even flinch at my arrival.
"Look familiar?" He chuckled, following my gaze. I nodded. He said, "Like father, like son. I s'pose you'd know just how to suck it then…"
No strings. It's more than just a convenience, it's freedom. It's satisfaction without obligation.
He has a mouth on his cock, and he doesn't have to care who's steering it. Sometimes a red-blooded man just needs a release.
A big, fat cock never loses its luster. Whether he's 25 or 65, he'll still have it and cocksuckers will still crave it.
And it's a privilege of which he's taken full, unapologetic advantage every time his appetites exceeded his wife's patience.
Heart racing, I pocketed the photo when I found it. I turned to see my husband squatted beside a box of old books tagged for the estate sale.
He was the spitting image of the monochrome man, his grandfather, and it made me see him anew. He was a man and I a spouse, serving him.
"How's that pussy feel, boy?" Brad barked, pushing and pulling my body into a pleasing rhythm as I moaned in harmony.
"Such a good little fucktoy," he grinned down at me. "Funny how the Mrs. is so worried I'll fuck one of her friends when she has a perfectly breedable brother."
Chuck always loved the way I sucked dick, but he was less pleased when it wasn't his own flooding my throat.
Whether it was the locker room, the boardroom, or his dad's bedroom, he'd huff and grumble when he caught me, but his thickening cock couldn't lie. It liked what it saw.
Dan wasn't all prettied up or even particularly exceptional. He was my boss, but more than that, he was a man in need.
I was eager, and he was easy, to please. We went back to the hotel before his presentation and I gave him the boost he needed to land our new biggest client.
Uncle Jim was half again as long as me and twice as thick, and when I saw the photo, it made sense why the family obliquely joked about knowing he was adopted.
It felt very wrong, but just as right, when I followed him into the garage and sucked on that hog.
Eight inches hilted in his pussy, and he still howled for more. I hammered him like a hurricane, but he wanted it harder.
His insatiable hole met my limitless libido, and only the garage door's rumble—my wife's return—wrenched my cock from her college boy son's cum-dump ass.
One second, he was knocking at my door, and the next he was making himself at home. I was a virgin, and then suddenly I was not.
I'd never forget the feeling of his cock, of my best friend's father on top of me. He told me I was cute, but I knew I was just a hole for him to use.
After college, I came back to my best friend's home. His father spread my cheeks and flooded that valley with his river of precum. "You want daddy to seed this pussy, boy?" John asked.
He didn't see me as the young man I was, but as the breedable whore I wished I could be.
When our mouths met, his hesitation turned to enthusiasm. The softness of my lips and the smell of his wife's perfume told his body I was a prize, not a competitor.
A fearsomely large cock swelled between my boss's legs, eager to sink into me and transform my ass into a pussy.
The first time I called him dad, he kissed me hard and came even harder. At first it had just been convenient to let people think it.
But more and more, he acts like a father. He gives advice, orders, and even an allowance. He's my husband, but his 'son' loves sucking his cock.