Rye centers his mouth above me, lowers his head, his eyes on mine as my tongue stretches outward, the surface dry, my jaw muscles stretched as he releases the glistening warmth from his lips.
I falls and I catch it on my tongue, the erotic taboo nature of my uncle spitting into my mouth sends my lower forty into a spin.
“Keep stroking me.” He orders as I struggle with what comes next.
Do I just keep his spit on my tongue?
No, that’s dumb. I need to swallow it. I need to be grateful for it. I need to show him I appreciate the gift he’s given me.
How I know all this, I’m not sure. It’s as though a new Elodie has awakened inside of me with knowledge of things I’ve never before considered but feel wildly natural and empowering.
Watching Rye closely, I draw my tongue back into my mouth. Close my lips and swallow the warm saliva as it mixes with my own.
God, how I want to see how I affect him. How he reacts to me. How I want to please him is like a growing, breathing, demanding new being inside me.
I squeeze my fingers tighter as I move my hand up and down the veiny stem of his arousal, there’s a hint of Scotch lingering in Rye’s spit as it slips down my throat and from the flicker in his eyes, my actions are pleasantly surprising.
“You know what Daddy needs from his little girl.” He takes a long, satisfied breath as another drop of clear liquid seeps from the tip of his cock.
The leash jerks again, sharp enough to leave a sting where it bites into my neck along the bottom edge. The other pink leather straps cling to my skin, leaving nothing hidden from my uncle’s eyes that lock onto me as his thick cock bobs in front of my nose.
His free hand hooks under my chin. “I know you’re wet,” he makes an animalistic sound when I run my tongue over my lips.
He drags his thumb along the seam, “You know all that slick little girl juice you’re making is for Daddy now, isn’t it?”
I barely nod as my throat tightens questioning if this is all just a part of tonight’s game for him.
My heart skips. Things inside of me re-arrange themselves because for me, none of this feels like performance and notknowing if Rye feels the same, is more dangerous than anything I’ve done so far tonight.
The liquid’s dripping faster from the tiny slit now and it’s mesmerizing. I’ve never seen a man’s anatomy like this up close. Only in pictures and a few porn clips that never seemed to do anything for me but make me roll my eyes.
But, this. Oh my God, it’s a thing of beauty that also inspires fear.
Too big too bigtoo bigsomething inside me chants but he’s already lining up with my lips, his thumb dragging my lower lip down.
“Open for me,” he orders in that voice that could undress a girl without a touch. “Your first taste of your uncle will be a moment you should cherish for the rest of your life, Dautie.”
I comply, my hand secure around the solid root of him needing that security somehow. My breath rifles in and out of my lungs and over my tongue and lips making them dry.
I’m ravenous for him. For this. The weight of his length shocking as it lands on my tongue
The first inch nearly splits my jaw open. The thick, soft ridge slides over my tongue raw as I gag, the scent of salt and musk flooding my nostrils.
“Holy fuck, baby.” He gathers my hair in his free hand. He’s not gentle, the roots burn as he takes control of my head. He makes a choking sound as I explores the ridge with my tongue, humming around him as I take this man’s cock into my mouth. “That’s my sweet little girl. You made your Daddy hard and now you know it’s your responsibility to take care of what you caused. I always knew you were a good girl, Elodie. God, such a good girl…”
This man looks like my father but tastes like coming home.
A groan vibrates low in his chest, hips bucking reflexively when draw him deeper, my lips stretched to their limit.
It hurts to open so wide, but this kind of pain feels new and somehow, revolutionary. Like I’m giving him something I can only give once and I want him to know how hard I’m trying.
I swallow around him, muscles burning as he sinks deeper. “Christ Elodie,” he snarls from above, fingers fisting in my hair, “you are a sweet, greedy little slut. So, fucking pretty when you choke on me.”
His cock throbs against the back of my throat, the pre-cum salty as I lap at the textured underside.
I tickle the veins, the little spot under the tip that I’ve already determined makes him stop breathing.
He pistons his hips, slow and punishing, teaching me how to take him until my eyes spill over with hot tears and my cheeks ache with the strain.
