Holstered

One mad slam, and Mom snaps her hips against my face so hard she forces her balls into my mouth. My jaw stretches wide to take her, my eyes pressed against trimmed hair and soft skin at her hilt. Her entire length holsters itself into my throat.

I feel my throat conform to the shape of her, Mom's phallic monster pulsing as her nuts rest against my tongue. Mom lets out a low growl of arousal and need. Holding my breath out of necessity, I quickly lift my hands, but not to push her off.

“Suck my ...” Mom starts, before she feels my tongue flexing, wide, underneath her jewels, massaging them with my soft, warm tongue, and she groans. “Fuck, yes, you knew exactly what you should do, faggot!” I moan softly, swallowing on her.

Mom's fingers splay across both sides of my skull as she holds my head. Yet with my arms around her hips, holding myself steady for her, she doesn't bother to apply any downward pressure. She feels no need to hold my head down on her cock.

I swallow hard around her, every time she pulses in my throat, I swallow. Milking her with the muscles of my throat, Mom soon starts to cum. Thick ropes of cream pump into the bottom of my throat, her meat visible almost all the way down it.

I could lift a hand, check my throat, see how far I can feel her cock go, but I don't care. It doesn't matter, right now all that matters is Mom's cock getting the attention it needs, she needs. Above me, Mom is moaning, her fingers flexing smoothly.

Mom purrs in pleasure, massaging my scalp with all of her fingers, both thumbs rubbing gentle circles on my temples, as I drink her milk. I close my eyes, moaning to offer her appreciative, pleasurable vibrations, drinking all that she offers me.

She's too deep for me to get even a hint of an aftertaste, but I can wait. Maybe I'll get the privilege to find out exactly how her milk tastes, eventually, but right now? Right now, Mom has chosen to use me as her holster, her needs matter more.

The delicate massage of my scalp feels wonderful, and I hold my breath until her pulsation subsides. Her fingers flex and take a firmer grip once she's done. I don't pull back, but Mom does, pulling my head off of her as her hips slowly retreat.

Swallowing around her, my throat clings desperately to her cock until her crown is free of it. Mom gasps for air at exactly the same moment I do, though for different reasons. My eyes lift, as hers drop down to make with mine, silently.

Her lips curve, and her teeth show, as she beams a smile down at me, catching her breath. “Fuck, that was phenomenal ... give me a moment. I need another round, but holy fuck your throat, my sweet little faggot, your throat was ... heavenly.”

Seeing Mom standing over me, breathless and happy, her cock rock hard and glistening in the kitchen's artificial lighting, I'm not going anywhere. I let my hands slide down a little, draping around her thighs, to let her know I don't want to move.

“I'll let you decide how you want to serve for Round Two, whore,” Mom says, stroking my hair with one hand, maintaining eye as she looks at me, “I think a devoted little faggot like you deserves to be rewarded for such attentive service.”

Author's Note:
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