Page 60 of Father Figure

You’re a dick toy, Nicky. Your purpose is to give pleasure to the men who own you. Make your Uncle come. Make your Daddy come.

“Uncle Sam?” I asked, using my small voice. “Can you tell me how to make you come?”

“If only I could stuff your small mouth until I block your throat and you have to breathe through your nose. Those sweet gagging sounds as you choke on my cock would make me come in an instant.” I had to stop stroking my prick in order to stave off my orgasm. Then Daddy pushed inside me and set my rim on fire. I cried out, making Sam smile. “I bet your tight ass is strangling your Daddy’s cock right now. If he does a good enough job stretching you open, just maybe someday you could fit both of us inside of you at once.”

“Oh fuck,” I hissed, feeling a surge of heat that convinced me I was going to shoot before I was allowed to. The thought of taking both of them inside of me at the same time, nothing more than a sexy rag doll sandwiched between them, was enough to send me over the edge. I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Daddy, please, I don’t want to make a mess before I’m allowed to.”

Sam chuckled, and I knew he was purposely pushing me to my limits just to see if I could earn myself a consequence. He was so evil! Daddy dug his fingers into my hips, leveraging his leg over mine to drive his cock deep into my ass. He grunted and panted, and I could hear him working himself up as he used my body to get off. I was nothing more than his cum receptacle, my bottom just an empty hole for him to dump his cum into. A pulse of pre-cum dribbled from my slit, and I covered it with my hand, trying in vain to keep the cum inside of me. I’d have to pull out all the stops in order to get them to come before I did.

“Uncle Sam, you can stuff your big, fat cock anywhere you can fit it in me, and if it won’t fit, you can do your best to stretch me and make it fit. Maybe the more you fuck me, the looser I’ll become until I can easily fit you both.”

“That’s it, baby boy. Tell me all those filthy sweet words I want to hear. Fuck,” he hissed, increasing the speed of his strokes. He bucked his hips off the mattress, and I knew he was close. “Let me hear you tell your Daddy how good his cock feels shoved up your ass.”

“Fuck, Sam,” Daddy cursed. He liked what he was hearing as much as I did.

“Use me, Daddy. Stretch my little bottom and fill me with your cum. Breed me, Daddy.” He cursed again, and I mentally patted myself on the back. I’d learned that term from watching porn, and it had sounded really hot. My Daddy must think so too. Maybe one day he would lose the condom and breed me for real, just like in my research porn.

“More, baby,” he panted, driving deeper and harder into me.

“My uncle wants to hear you fill my bottom. Hurry, Daddy, please, my little prick is gonna erupt and make a sticky mess all over the sheets.”

“Goddamn, Nicky, the fucking mouth on you.”

Even through the thin barrier of latex, I could feel the heat of his cum filling the condom, could feel his dick pulsing inside of me as he let loose.

“My sweet baby boy. Love you so much, Nicky.” His hips slowed to a lazy stroke. One down, one left to go.

“Uncle Sam, Daddy bred my ass. He fucked me so hard it’s sore, and my tiny little balls hurt because I need to come so bad. I wish I could swallow your load.”

“Damn baby, your Daddy is right. Your mouth is filthy. Fuck,” he cursed, fucking his fist. “Next time I see you, I’m gonna tear your ass up.” A thick rope of cum shot from his dick, followed by another and then smaller spurts. It looked yummy and my mouth watered for a taste.

Daddy continued to stroke his cock in and out of my ass, keeping it stretched wide. He wrapped his hand around my tiny prick—barely able to fit his whole fist over the length of my shaft without covering my head—and pumped me hard and fast.

“Watch, Sam. Our little boy is gonna come for us.”

I cried as I shot my load. The relief was so overwhelming it burned my eyes, making them water. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, Uncle Sam.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Don’t forget the beanie weenies!” Sam called.

I was about to exit the aisle, but I turned back, rolling my eyes. “Jesus Christ, Sam, we’re traveling aboard a luxury yacht, preparing gourmet meals for our guests with top-shelf liquor, and you want us to settle for fucking beanie weenies from a can? That’s where I draw the line.”

“What?” he shrugged. “They're good. I like the sauce.”

“No. I’ll buy the jerky, but not the beanie weenies.”

“What about just regular hot dogs?” Nicky asked, trying to mediate.

“No. Maybe some bratwurst, though,” I thought aloud, turning toward the meat section.

Forty-five minutes later, we pushed our full cart through the checkout line. “Hey, Cass,” Matteo greeted.

Of course, my hormonal ball of sunshine, otherwise known as Nicky, made googly eyes at him. “Hey, Matteo.”

“Who is this?” he asked, looking at Nicky.

“Hi, I’m Nicky, Cass’s…” He looked at me uncertainly. It was the first time he’d ever introduced himself as my anything, and he was stumbling over what to call himself.

---