Deepthroating Father's Friend

MARCELLA

I let another thick, heavy pool of saliva gather on my tongue. I pushed my lips forward, tilting my head just enough to let the wetness drop directly onto the thick, swollen head of the older stranger's cock. The slick fluid landed with a soft, wet sound, instantly coating the flushed, fever-hot skin and the cold metal of the piercing. The silver ring caught the dim ambient light of the living room, creating a glistening sheen that made the massive erection look even more intimidating. My hands, still trembling slightly from the raw adrenaline pumping through my veins, resumed their rhythmic motion. The fresh lubrication changed the friction instantly. The movement became smoother, wetter, and infinitely more satisfying. My palms glided up and down the impressive, veiny length, squeezing the dense, hot flesh with a newfound desperation. I applied more pressure this time, wrapping my fingers tighter around his immense girth, forcing my small hands to stretch just to maintain a secure grip on the heavy base.

"Fuck..."

The rough, guttural curse tumbled from his lips. The raw, unfiltered pleasure in his deep tone sent a fresh wave of heat straight down to my soaking wet pussy. My hips shifted involuntarily on the hardwood floor. The damp fabric of my rain-soaked dress rubbed against my sensitive thighs, a stark contrast to the burning fire igniting deep within my core. I was captivated by the sheer power I held in my hands, mesmerized by the fact that a few simple strokes could wring such a primal sound from this towering, dangerous man.

"Use your fucking mouth, already."

His hands abruptly abandoned my shoulders. His large, rough fingers tangled deep into the wet strands of my hair. He did not give me a single second to prepare, nor did he offer any gentle coaxing. He gripped a thick handful of my hair at the back of my scalp and forced my head down with ruthless authority. The sudden, downward pull was aggressive, establishing a stark power dynamic that left no room for hesitation. If I possessed any shred of rational thought at this exact moment, I would have fought back. I would have yelled at him to let me go, to release his painful grip on my scalp, and demanded he leave my home. I had lost all capacity for reason. The heavy, masculine scent of his crotch overwhelmed my senses—a potent, dizzying blend of raw sweat, expensive leather, and heavy arousal. The sheer, unapologetic dominance radiating from his iron grip turned my brain to absolute mush.

My lips parted instinctively, surrendering to his physical command. I opened my mouth as wide as humanly possible, stretching my jaw muscles, to accommodate the incoming intrusion. The thick, glistening head of his cock pushed past my teeth. The sheer, impossible width of him stretched the corners of my small mouth to their absolute limits. A sharp, stinging ache radiated through my jaw and the sides of my lips as the dense flesh forced its way past my barrier. The pain was undeniable, a sharp reminder of his overwhelming size. My pussy did not care about the pain. The moment his hot, throbbing cock filled my mouth, an uncontrollable, desperate itch flared deep inside my vaginal canal. I needed friction. I needed a release. I was unmistakably horny, driven entirely mad by the feeling of this massive cock dominating my mouth, stretching my cheeks, and asserting total control over my body.

"You little slut have a tight mouth, don't you?"

He groaned the degrading words above me, his chest vibrating with the heavy sound. His grip on my hair tightened, pulling the strands taut against my scalp. He pushed his firm hips forward slightly, using his uncompromising hold on my head to force more of his thick length down my throat. I gagged softly, the sound muffled by his flesh. I had only managed to take the head of his cock past my lips. The dense, heavily veined shaft was simply too thick, too imposing. I was not sure my mouth could stretch any further without my skin tearing. My breathing became shallow, pulling air strictly through my nose as my mouth remained fully occupied by the massive, burning heat of his erection.

He grunted in clear frustration at the lack of depth. His strong fingers pulled tight on my hair, yanking my face back from his crotch with a sudden, jarring motion.

"How small is your mouth, slut?"

His dark, sexy voice vibrated through the quiet air of the living room. The harsh, demeaning question sent streaks of liquid fire racing through my veins. The degradation felt like a physical caress, awakening a dark, twisted desire inside me that I never knew existed. I stared up at him, my eyes wide, my lips still glistening with his pre-come and my own saliva. He guided my head back down toward his fully hard cock. I did not wait for another harsh command to resume my task. I reached out and wrapped both of my hands firmly around the thick base of his shaft, anchoring him in place. I leaned in eagerly, dragging my wet tongue out to trace the very tip of his cock. I focused my attention on the sensitive flesh surrounding the metal piercing. I swirled the tip of my tongue over the exact spot I knew would drive him crazy, tasting the sharp metallic tang mixed with his salty skin.

"Fuck! Suck on it and there... Yeah, lick it and suck it like I know you fucking want to!"

I loved the taste of him. The musky, primal flavor of his skin coated my tongue, acting as an intoxicating drug that eroded my remaining self-control. I savored the heavy, solid weight of his thick cock pressing against my lips, the pulse of his heartbeat thudding against my tongue. Every wet glide of my tongue made the desperate, throbbing itch in my pussy burn significantly hotter. The fabric of my panties was drenched, sticking uncomfortably to my swollen folds. I craved every ounce of raw dominance this imposing man could inflict on me. I let my tongue glide smoothly down the underside of his veiny cock, dragging the wet muscle over the prominent, thick ridges. A soft, breathy moan escaped my own lips as I tasted the length of him, fully immersed in the sheer ecstasy of serving his pleasure.

"You are getting off from sucking my cock? Naive but slutty is just about perfect."

His voice was thick with raw lust, the dark amusement evident in his tone. The words stroked my ego and fueled my submissive descent simultaneously.

"Get those hands to my balls and play with them."

He barked the strict order. My right hand instantly obeyed, sliding down from the base of his shaft without a microsecond of hesitation. I cupped the heavy, warm weight of his balls in my palm. I massaged the sensitive skin gently, rolling the heavy weight carefully between my trembling fingers. The contrast of the soft skin against the rigid hardness of his shaft provided a sensory overload that pushed me closer to the edge.

"Aaargh..."

A deep, animalistic groan ripped forcefully from his chest, echoing loudly against the living room walls. Emboldened by his vocal reaction, I moved my mouth back to the thick, dominant head of his cock. I swirled my tongue over the cold metal piercing one more time, gathering a fresh coat of saliva. I opened my jaw to the point of aching, stretching my facial muscles, and pushed my head forward. I tried to swallow him down, attempting to take him deeper than before. Once again, despite my desperate efforts, I could only fit the massive head past my teeth. The sheer, unyielding girth of his cock blocked any further progress, hitting the roof of my mouth and refusing to budge.

He lost his patience entirely. His large fist tightened ruthlessly in my hair. He yanked my head back with a brutal, unforgiving pull that snapped my neck backward.

I gasped loudly, the sudden intake of air sharp in my throat. I winced as the sharp, biting pain flared across my scalp, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. The sting of his rough treatment sparked a wild, biological reaction deep within my body. Instead of shrinking away, my pussy clamped down hard and released a heavy, gushing flood of hot juices. My panties were instantly soaked through, the warm liquid pooling between my thighs. I realized a profound, life-altering truth in that exact second. I was not frigid. I was not insensitive to the touch of a man. I had spent years believing my body was broken, unable to respond to physical intimacy. I had just been numb to the pathetic, gentle, vanilla touches of my ex-boyfriend. This raw, unapologetic dominance, the pain mixed seamlessly with pleasure, was exactly what my starving body craved.

The older stranger moved abruptly, breaking the temporary stillness. He stood up on his feet, towering over my kneeling form.

The white towel that had been loosely wrapped around his waist slipped loose from the sudden motion. The damp fabric fell heavily to the floor, pooling uselessly around his ankles. He stood over me in all his naked glory. He looked like a ruthless, towering Greek god cast in bronze and muscle. His massive, hard cock bobbed in the air, heavily engorged and pointing proudly, mere inches from my face. The thick shaft glistened under the dim ambient light, smeared heavily with my own drool and his clear pre-come. The sight of his raw arousal, displayed so brazenly in the middle of my living room, stole the breath directly from my lungs.

"I want to fuck this tight mouth of yours and spread those lips myself. Beg me to do so!"

The harsh, demanding command slammed into me, cutting through the heavy silence. I stared up at the heavy, wet weapon hovering before my eyes, my brain struggling to process the extreme shift in reality.

"I..."

I lost my train of thought entirely. My brain blanked out, short-circuiting under the sheer weight of his dominant presence. I wanted him to do exactly what he threatened. I wanted him to stretch my lips and ruin my mouth, but the coherent words refused to form on my tongue. I remained frozen, staring at his glistening cock like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You heard me, didn't you? Fucking beg!"

He thrust his narrow hips forward with sudden, violent speed. He swung his heavy cock directly into my face. The thick, wet flesh slapped hard against my right cheek, the impact leaving a stinging heat in its wake.

"Aaah!"

A breathless, pathetic moan left my mouth. The physical impact of his cock slapping my face sent a massive, undeniable surge of arousal straight down to my swollen clit. The sheer humiliation of the act, being treated like a cheap toy, turned me on beyond any spectrum of reason. I trembled on the floor, my hands clutching my wet dress as the heat pooled heavier in my groin.

He stepped an inch closer, asserting his territory. He swung his muscular hips again. The massive cock slapped aggressively against my left cheek, leaving a wet trail of my own saliva across my flushed skin. The primal, degrading treatment shattered my final remaining inhibitions. The desperate, filthy words tore out of my throat, bypassing my brain entirely.

"Please fuck my mouth!"

I moaned the desperate plea, staring hungrily at his imposing crotch, my eyes locked on the prize I so desperately craved.

"That plainly? Were you properly taught, slut? Who am I? Who do you fucking want to fuck your mouth?"

His dark, commanding eyes burned deeply into mine, demanding total, unquestioning submission. He wanted to break me down to my core. I stared at the towering man, the air thickening with raw sexual tension. My chest heaved rapidly as I gasped for air, the cold, wet fabric of my dress clinging tightly to my hardened nipples. I lost every single clue of proper societal behavior. The deepest, darkest fantasy lodged in the recesses of my brain slipped effortlessly past my lips, spoken with eager, breathless reverence.

"I want daddy to fuck my mouth!"

"Urrgh! Perfect, Daddy's little sub!"

His deep voice rumbled with intense satisfaction. A rush of euphoric thrill washed over me. I loved the title. I loved the heavy weight of the words. I loved being his little sub, existing solely for his pleasure. I did not get a single second to rejoice in the dirty praise, nor a moment to bask in the twisted validation.

He grabbed the back of my head with both of his large, calloused hands. He locked my skull in an inescapable vice grip. He shoved his huge cock directly at my face with brutal force. My lips parted on pure instinct, opening wide to receive his punishment. He rammed his cock past my teeth, bypassing my initial resistance, and buried the thick head and the upper half of his heavy shaft deep inside my mouth.

My entire body shuddered violently against the floorboards. A massive, tidal wave of unprecedented pleasure crashed through my central nervous system. I was dripping wet, my thighs slick with my own arousal. My panties clung uselessly to my skin, saturated with thick, warm juices that continued to flow with every thrust of his hips. The cold, shivering chill of my rain-soaked dress vanished entirely, replaced by a feverish, consuming heat that burned from the inside out.

"Is this just how tight that cunt is too?"

He grunted the filthy, degrading words directly above my head. He pulled his firm hips back, dragging the thick, saliva-coated cock out past my lips, only to slam it right back into my mouth with relentless rhythm. He used his brutal, unyielding grip on my hair to angle my head perfectly, forcing me to take significantly more of his huge cock than I ever thought physically possible. My throat stretched painfully, the muscles fighting to accommodate the sheer size of his intrusion. My eyes rolled back into my head, the ceiling blurring into a white haze of ecstasy. I reached out blindly and grabbed onto his firm, muscular thighs, digging my fingernails deep into his skin to anchor myself against his forceful thrusts.

"Ease up for me, slut. Your mouth is fucking too small, ease up for daddy."

The rough commands bombarded my ears. My nipples hardened into tight, painful peaks beneath my wet, ruined dress, desperate for any friction they could get. The sharp, psychological sting of him calling me a slut triggered another massive spike of wetness. The profound realization hit me like a runaway freight train crashing through my mental barriers. This was it. This was my ultimate, undeniable kink. Being verbally degraded. Being called a filthy, worthless slut. Being used roughly and without a single ounce of mercy by a dominant man. I embraced the fevered, sexual haze, letting go of every restraint I had ever known.

Click.

The sharp, distinct, mechanical sound of the living room door unlatching echoed loudly through the space, cutting through the heavy sounds of our wet skin slapping together.

Panic spiked through my chest like a jagged, ice-cold blade. The heavy, intoxicating fog of the sexual haze shattered in a single, terrifying instant. The sound registered in my brain with catastrophic clarity. That could be my mother. She was supposed to be home soon.

I scrambled backward on my hands and knees, terror overriding my arousal. I forcefully pulled my mouth off his wet cock, gasping for fresh air as the thick shaft popped past my lips with a wet smack. The older stranger reacted with terrifying, lightning-fast speed, proving his reflexes were as sharp as his dominance. He leaned down, snatched the discarded white towel off the hardwood floor in one smooth motion, and swiftly wrapped the fabric securely around his narrow waist, concealing his massive, glistening erection just in time.

"I will get back to you."

He muttered the dark, promising words under his breath, his eyes flashing with unresolved lust. I ignored the threat, scrambling frantically to get up to my feet. Standing upright made our massive, undeniable height difference painfully obvious once again. I was a respectable five feet and seven inches tall, but this towering, intimidating man had to be at least six-foot-three or six-foot-four. He loomed over me heavily, a dark silhouette of raw masculinity even with the simple towel secured around his hips.

"Nina?"

My mother's familiar voice called out hesitantly from the dark entryway of the house. A split second later, the bright, unforgiving overhead lights of the living room flicked on, blinding me temporarily and illuminating the chaotic, sexually charged scene.

"Mum."

I forced the single word out of my dry, aching throat. I flashed an incredibly awkward, strained smile, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I reached up to tuck my wet, disheveled hair behind my ears. I prayed to any god listening that my face was not flushed bright red. I prayed she could not smell the heavy, distinct musk of sex and saliva hanging thick in the living room air. I tried to smooth down my wet dress, my heart hammering violently against my ribcage.

"Nina??"

The tall stranger repeated my name. The deep, commanding voice lacked the dominant, ruthless edge from a mere moment ago. It was replaced instantly by pure, unadulterated shock. He spun around on his heel to face me, his blue eyes blown wide in total disbelief.

"You are Nina?"

He stared directly at me, waiting for an answer, his jaw clenched tight. I kept my mouth firmly shut, too terrified to speak. The panic deepened, twisting my stomach into painful knots. My mother was standing right there in the entryway, looking at a half-naked, towering man in our living room, and she was not screaming for the police. She was not panicking or reaching for a weapon. That single, terrifying fact meant she knew this strange man.

"Yes, Mr. Thorne. This is Nina, my daughter. I see that the both of you have met already."

My mother stepped further into the room, offering the tall, half-naked stranger a warm, exceptionally polite smile, completely oblivious to the depraved acts that had occurred on this very floor seconds ago.

"Fuck."

The rough, harsh curse slipped from his mouth, spoken barely above a whisper, yet it sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.

"Is there anything wrong? Was she rude to you?"

My mother turned her sharp attention toward me. Her polite, welcoming smile dropped instantly, replaced by a strict, scolding expression that I knew all too well.

"Were you rude to him?"

She demanded an answer, her tone clipping with maternal authority.

"Don't scold her, she wasn't rude to me at all."

The man intervened quickly, his voice tight and strained, his eyes refusing to meet mine again.

"Oh, I am glad. Nina, meet Mr. Thorne, your father's friend who has been helping us out for years."

The polite, formal introduction rang in my ears like a death knell. The sound of her casual words echoed relentlessly in my skull. My eyes widened to the point of pain in pure, unadulterated horror. The breath vanished entirely from my lungs. My heart stopped beating in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. A sickening, paralyzing wave of realization crashed heavily over me, turning my hot blood straight to ice.

Mr. Thorne.

The very same imposing man whose massive, pierced cock I had just rolled my tongue over with eager desperation. The man I had just willingly, enthusiastically deepthroated on my living room floor. The man who had slapped his heavy flesh against my cheeks, called me a filthy slut, and made my pussy drip with hot wetness while I begged him for more.

He was my deceased father's best friend. He was the wealthy, mysterious financial sponsor who had been paying for our lives, keeping a roof over our heads and food on our table for years.

What the hell had I just done?