Chapter 9: The Worship
The weight of my belly pressed against my thighs as I lowered myself, knees sinking into the mattress. Every shift sent a wet roll through my gut, the cum inside me sloshing warm and heavy. Victor sat before me, his massive frame taking up the center of my bed, and his cock stood between us like some kind of monument to everything I wanted.
"Gods," I breathed, leaning forward. The head of his shaft hovered inches from my face, broad and dark, glistening with a thin sheen of pre-cum. The stitched veins running along its length pulsed with that violet glow, each beat a promise. "You're so impossibly thick. So fucking hot."
I pressed my lips to the side of his shaft, and the heat of him seared my mouth. He tasted like ozone and honey, sweet and electric, that same addictive tang I'd been chasing all night. I dragged my tongue in a long, slow stripe from the base to the tip, savoring every ridge of stitched flesh.
Victor's breath hitched. His hand found my hair, thick fingers threading through my pigtails. "You're eager."
"Always," I murmured against his skin. "You know that by now."
I reached down and cupped his balls. Both hands couldn't quite manage the weight of even one. They hung heavy and full, watermelon-sized, the skin hot and taut beneath my palms. I felt the contents shift, a thick, sloshing churn like liquid honey rolling in a sealed jar.
I squeezed gently, and Victor let out a low sound, something between a groan and a purr. His stitching flared brighter.
"Fuck, they're full," I said, my voice husky. "I can hear it. All that cum just waiting for me."
"Waiting for you to take it."
"Oh, I'm going to take it." I leaned in and pressed my mouth to the head of his cock, parting my lips around the crown. The taste hit me immediately, salt and ozone and that sweet, addictive something that made my head spin. I moaned around him, tongue curling along the ridge, and the shaft twitched against my lips.
"Your pre-cum tastes like lightning," I said, pulling back just enough to speak. "Salty and sharp. I can't get enough of it."
I sank down. The head passed my teeth, my jaw stretching to accommodate his girth, and the familiar burn bloomed in my throat. My elastic flesh gave way, opening for him like it had been waiting all night. I took him deeper, inch by thick inch, until his shaft filled my mouth completely and the head pressed into my esophagus.
His hand tightened in my hair. "Graves."
I answered by swallowing. The motion drew him deeper, my throat rippling around his heat, and I felt the bulge of him press against my skin from the inside. My belly still didn't touch him properly, not from this angle, but the weight of it sloshed against my thighs as I worked.
I pulled back, letting him slide almost all the way out, then pushed down again. My nose met the base of his shaft. His balls pressed against my chin, hot and heavy, and I heard them gurgle again, that wet, hungry sound that made my cunt clench.
"More," I demanded, my voice muffled around him. "Give me more."