"Cock Worship"
By Mychael Black
"Such a cock-slut you are."
I whimper and nod, tongue out and mouth open like Master wants. I don't
speak, but he knows my answer. My gaze is locked onto the thick meat in
front of my face, Master's fingers making it bounce, taunting me
mercilessly. I want to taste him, want to lick the clear drops oozing
from the moist slit of his cock.
Master's other hand comes up to caress my tongue and I moan, unable to
respond. His fingers are long, moving back on my tongue until I'm sure
I'll gag. Then he pulls his hand away and cups the back of my head,
slowly but surely drawing me closer to my prize.
"No lips, no teeth."
He likes it this way sometimes. I lick the glistening tip of his prick,
suddenly flying on the salty-sweet juice. I'm desperate for more,
desperate to take him in completely; but I've been forbidden. So I do
my best--licking the crown and shaft like a giant, meaty popsicle. The
scent of leather and skin fills me, Master's musk strong, overpowering.
I want to drown myself in it.
Master rumbles his pleasure and I smile. His pleasure is mine, and the
sound of his deep-throated groan sends shockwaves through me. Without
warning, he thrusts his prick inside.
I swallow as quickly as possible, struggling not to gag. I've taken his
entire length before, so I know I can do it again. Closing my eyes, I
take deep breaths through my nose and relax my throat. He slips further
in, the head bumping the back of my throat now. Sweat prickles along my
skin and I fight the urge to back away. His fingers tighten in my hair,
holding me captive.
"Every good slut knows how to do this," he reminds me.
I don't nod, but he knows that I know. With the massive girth of his prick filling my mouth, I can only breathe and hold on.
(c) 2007 Mychael Black