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“I love that part so much!” I purred. “The way his knot pulls against my entrance as he's thrusting! Holding him inside so he can't pull away!” I shuddered with arousal, imagining just how I knew it felt as I watched it happening to my own mother instead. “You should play with your clitty, Mom,” I told her. “Brucie's way faster to cum than Daddy is—you probably won't be able to get off on the fucking alone, not unless you help yourself out. In fact...” I thought about it, then moved to act, resting my palm on her mound and using the tips of my fingers to tickle her clit. “Actually, never mind; I'll do it for you this time. You just concentrate on how good it all feels, and try to let yourself cum!”

She once again bent down and wrapped her lips around his cock and started to suck. She wanted to drink her dad like a straw, but unfortunately there wasn’t much more to have just yet. Desperate for more of her father’s essence, she licked the tip with flicks of her tongue, then with long swirls, while suctioning the head. Her other hand squeezed the base of his cock harder, keeping it angled as close to her mouth as she could as it throbbed steadily with the beat of his heart. Small drips of precum started to form at head of his penis, but with a single swipe of her tongue they were gone. It wasn’t enough.

I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.