If I do a good job now, will he finally be sated and let me go?
His breathing picks up as my movements become rhythmic, sucking and slobbering. The tip popping in and out of my lips with a sucking sound.
The smooth shaft glides over my tongue, bumping the back of my throat as I stretch my lips to take him deeper than before.
I’m not experienced, but I’m also not ignorant. I write dirty stories, and I read them as well. I shuffle through my memory for anything that might help get this over faster.
“That’s a good girl.”
I flick my eyes up through my eyelashes to see him bring the mug to his lips beneath the mask, tip it up, and draw a sip of the milk before releasing a long, low groan. “My little girl sucking me off as I enjoy her cream. This is better than any Christmas dreams I’ve ever had. That little pencil of a pussy hole you have was impressive, but your mouth is running a close fucking second. You make me so fucking hard, Cindy Lou. You know what Daddy needs. All sloppy and wet for me. Don’t suck your present out, though, I want to decorate your pretty face with it, then have a bite of that cookie.”
His crude language and entitled demands should make me cringe and hate him, but I can’t deny they only make me more eager to do what he wants. His words somehow hit that part of me that responds to a dominant alpha male, even one that is committing about a hundred felonies, violating me in my own home on Christmas.
“Oh fuck yeah, thata girl. Now you’re learning how to get Santy’s balls a-bursting.”
I force myself to draw him down, down, down, until I choke on the girth. My lips are stretched to their limit. But I hold him there and swallow around him, trying not to choke, something I read that men love and can’t resist.
A little more… Tears burn down my cheeks as the head swells in my throat and he releases a string of curse words.
He’s close. I swallow around him again, lap my tongue at the vein on the underside, my vision blurring, my lungs burning.
Please, let him blow, and maybe that will be enough.
“Oh no, you don’t, Cindy Lou.” He yanks my head up by the hair, the knife coming back out to scratch down my lolling tongue as I gasp and cough. My eyes bulge as his dick stands tall, bobbing straight up, shiny with my spit. “I know what you are trying to do. I told you, as much as that pretty mouth deserves a prize, I want to decorate your face for Christmas. Now, just sit there while I add some creamy tinsel to those rosy cheeks.”
He grabs his cock at the tip and spreads my glistening spit down the shaft, squeezing so hard the head turns a deep, greenish-purple as he fists the length, moving the green skin up and down, up and down.
“I don’t—”
“Oh, yes you do, Cindy Lou,” he corrects as his free hand comes to the top of my head, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging so that I’m forced to sit up straight, the pantyhose leash still tight around my throat. “You do, and you’re good at it. There isn’t a Who in Whoville who’d suck Daddy’s dick better than his good little Cindy Lou just did. And you love your Christmas decorations, don’t you? Be honest, this place isn’t nearly pretty enough, is it?”
I shake my head. “No, but—”
“Oh, no.” He shakes his head as he starts to pump faster, moving the head closer to my face, so that the eye seems to wink at me every time he jerks his shaft. “At least, not yet. Butt stuff can wait. Right now, I just want to turn you into my own little winter wonderland. Dashing through the snow...” His hand movesfaster, a fwap, fwap, fwapping sound filling the space between us, the thick veins on the back of his hand moving under the flesh, fingers squeezing tight as he jacks off pointing the weeping slit at my nose. “Come on, you know this one. Sing with me. Dashing through the snow, in a…”
The low timbre of his voice is oddly melodic, and honestly, he’s pretty solid at carrying a tune, the Grinch mask stretching and distorting as he sings. But this… God, what the fuck is actually happening here?
“One horse open sleigh,” I join in my voice cracking and stuttering as his grows stronger, louder. His dick getting thicker, coming closer, so I flinch each time he pumps in case this is the one. “O’er the fields…we go.”
“Laughing all the way!Ha ha ha!” He shouts the laugh, then it all devolves into a roar as he pumps and squeezes, his hand moving desperately. Then, with a hard tug on my hair, I yelp as white cream spurts from the swollen tip with such force that I don’t even have time to flinch before the first thick jet lands just under my left eye.
I try to pull away as warm cum coats my lips, my cheek, sticking to my eyelashes as I blink, blink, blink, but he has me held tight.
And he told meIwas a good producer?
He already unloaded what felt like a mug full of his crème brûlée inside me not more than twenty minutes ago, and now the seemingly endless spurts jet from the tiny slice in the tip until my face is a bukkake of man cream.
My vision is impaired by the sticky covering, but I watch as he squeezes the last low spurts from the tip, then releases his hand, scooping the warm, thick release onto the tips of two fingers andstuffing it into my mouth. I don’t question what’s happening or my instinctual reaction to close my lips around his fingers and suck, moaning as the salty flavor spreads over my tongue, my nipples drawing so tight a spurt of hot milk squeezes out to drip down my body as I squirm against the building urge in my core.
“I’m going to make sure to give you a good, warm protein prize every day, Cindy. You’re eating for two, as they say, and I want to make sure you’re getting all the nutrients you and your baby need. After all, I’m not a monster.”
I bite down on his finger, hard enough to make him growl, but when I release him, his chuckle is more entertained than angry.
“Little Cindy Lou, so fucking naughty. You’re angry. But not with me, I think. Angry with yourself for liking this. Well, Daddy’s ready to play some more, so it’s your fucking lucky day.”
My scalp is on fire, but my body is alight with need as he wraps one thick, strong arm beneath my shoulders and lifts me up in one smooth motion, depositing me on the table, the nylon stocking still wrapped around one palm.
I squirm and put up a small, futile fight, knocking the blue mug to shatter against the floor.
