Since Dad taught me to worship his cock he’s been giving me ample opportunities to do so. Today, for example, he’d dressed for work but left it protruding from his fly during his entire morning routine. I followed him around like a puppy, seldom getting up off all fours, and sucked him as he combed his hair in front of the bathroom mirror, under the table as he ate his cereal, in the hallway as he grabbed his keys and put on his coat.
At the front door he brought himself to climax and decorated my face with his seed.
“Now you leave that there, son, okay? I wanna see it still clinging there when I get home.”
