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They compelled her obedience, and they revealed at the same time the profound need to please him, to make him happy with her, to show him that she was indeed his good girl.
Jesus Christ, you sound like a brain-washed bimbo.
But it was his radiant, handsome, beautiful smile, an expression of pure pleasure and joy, that seemed to banish that momentary uncertainty. “You make me very happy, Kelsey. Now, I want your eyes on my cock. I’m going to show you how I want it worshipped. You’ll learn how to please a man’s penis the right way. I guarantee the fumbling encounters you’ve had with stupid college boys haven’t taught you anything remotely useful when it comes to servicing a man. But you’re going to learn that pleasing a man is not just about making him come. It’s about devotion, and service, and humbling yourself before his cock. It’s about respecting and revering that which controls you, which owns you.” He shook the heavy, thick erection before her, just inches away. “This does own you, Kelsey. While you’re here with me this summer your entire focus is going to be on pleasing me, and most of all on pleasing this.”
She swallowed hard at that, but nodded. “Yes, sir.” Placing her hands on both of his thighs, she opened her mouth.
But he took hold of her hair, stopping her. “Not until I tell you, Kelsey. Just be quiet and look at it, for now. Imagine how it’s going to feel on your tongue. How it tastes. How badly you want to make my cock feel good. To prove to me that you deserve to receive my cum.”
Her blush was so hot upon her skin she thought her hair might catch fire, but she nodded anyway. “I’m sorry, sir.” She wasn’t really sure why she apologized, other than for being presumptuous, maybe a little bit overeager. That too embarrassed her still more, knowing it probably made her look like a desperate cock whore.
Is that assessment at all inaccurate? Considering what he’s already had you do, dummy, him thinking you’re a cock whore is the least of your problems.
For perhaps a minute, she knelt there between his legs, staring at his penis, studying it in a way she’d never studied the male member before: the shape of the broad head, the network of thick, congested veins, the bulge of the central part of the shaft, the thick, wiry hair gathered at the base, the heaviness of his balls. She wanted so very much to touch them then, to cradle those balls in her palm, to gently squeeze them, to make him moan—then to lick that delicate skin, tasting that salty sweat of his male scent.
But at that moment, she was barred from doing so, and though it frustrated her, it reassured her as well. She was learning that she craved this level of control from him, this demonstration of his strength. But no matter what she did or tried, he would never give way, would always hold her accountable—and if necessary, punish her for her misdeeds.
She knew she shouldn’t like that, but she not only liked it, she needed it. Oh, God, but she did.
“Do you think you’re ready to taste my cock? Are you ready to show me how grateful you are to me?” He stroked the hair away from her eye, tucking it behind her ear, his thumb easing up and down the tender edge of her earlobe. “Are you ready to be my good girl?”
She nodded, her ability to speak, to form words apparently abandoning her at the moment. Still, she thrilled with the prospect of finally taking him between her lips.
God, you’re such a slut!
“Get to it then. Thank me for correcting you. If you do a very good job, you’ll get my cum. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
She blushed furiously, dropping her gaze.
“I’m waiting, Kelsey. Do you want my cum?”
Then she nodded ever so slightly, her eyes flicking up to his, peeking at him through her lashes. “Yes, sir.”
“You and I are going to get along very well then, Kelsey girl.” He stroked her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her trembling lips. “Now, it’s time for you to put my cock in this pretty mouth of yours.”
She remembered his taste well, a heady combination of salt, soap, and that undefinable male note that made her mouth water and her pussy drip. She licked and sucked on the broad head at first, and Max kept his hand up on the back of her head. Normally, she would have found such a thing irritating, even distracting, but with him it was something else entirely—it was a reassurance, almost active participation, direction even. Was it him directing her as he used her mouth to service his penis that aroused her so? Or was it the thought that was arousing her so much? Did she like being used? In her mind, the answer was little more than rhetorical; it was obvious she was enjoying this very much indeed, whether or not she suffered any ethical or moral qualms about that fact.
It just was.
He groaned softly as she plunged deep, going down farther and farther, until the head of his cock tickled the back of her soft palate. She extended her tongue and tried to open her throat, but her gag reflex triggered anyway, her face blushing anew as if such a thing—whether or not she could actively control it—was somehow a failure to obey.
She pulled back a little, then tried it again—and once more, she gagged.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon. I know with practice and dedication you’ll have my cock down your throat in no time at all. You’re such a good, obedient girl for trying so hard.”
Tears sprang from her eyes anew at the words of both reassurance, and subtle, sly diminution. Humbling. But she liked both aspects of what he’d said to her, and that fact had her mind reeling. Apparently, humiliation and degradation did it for her now, the prospect of which she would have laughed at even a few weeks ago.
But with Uncle Max, everything seemed to be different. And what she thought she knew about herself, about what she should like, and what she truly wanted was something else entirely.
His hand tightened in her hair, Max taking control of the depth and pace of her sucking. His murmured encouragement both buoyed her and made her blush anew. “That’s a girl, that’s my girl. Yes, get your tongue underneath, just like that. Do you like that? Do you like the taste of my cock?”
She raised her gaze to his even with his shaft deep in her mouth. She tried to speak, but it was little more than garbled mumbles.
He smiled at her again, caressing her cheek. “Just suck, sweetie.”
For the next few minutes, she concentrated on simply servicing him, licking those thick veins, taking him as deep as she could until she gagged, the tears already beginning to run down her face. Now and then, he would pull his cock from her lips and rub it across her cheeks, anointing it in those same tears. Then he’d make her lick them back off, the salt of her shame and debasement only making her pussy wetter, her nipples harder, and her mortification deeper.
Finally, his thighs began to stiffen, his voice growing deeper and deeper, the grip on her hair crueler. “Getting close, getting close, slut. Suck harder, good girl. Deeper. Deeper!” He smacked her face lightly, and she tried to gasp around him, not sure whether to be angry—or even more turned on.
