3. 3 #3
"Fuck, yes," Victor groaned. "Swallowing me up. So fucking good."
He pulled out suddenly, leaving me empty and aching, and I felt his hands on my shoulders, pulling me up, turning me, pushing me to my knees on the floor in front of him. His cock was slick with my arousal, throbbing, the head purple and swollen, and he fisted it in his hand, pumping hard.
"I want you to swallow it all, sweetie," he huffed. "So Brandon won't see the mess."
I whimpered but tilted my head back, my mouth open. He stepped forward, gripping his thick shaft and guiding it between my waiting lips. The weight of him pressed against my tongue, hot and heavy and pulsing with need as he slid deeper, filling my mouth with his rigid length.
He groaned above me, his hips beginning to roll, fucking my mouth with slow, deliberate strokes. His hand tangled in my hair, holding me steady as he pushed deeper, the tip of his cock nudging the back of my throat. I moaned around him, the vibration making him shudder, his grip tightening.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. "Swallow it all, every fucking drop."
Then he was erupting, his cock throbbing violently against my tongue.
Thick ropes of cum blasted onto the back of my throat, flooding my mouth with hot, salty seed.
Spurt after spurt of thick, white cream coated my tongue and filled my cheeks, far more than I'd ever taken before.
The sheer volume overwhelmed me, seeping around his shaft where my lips sealed tight, dribbling down my chin in sticky rivulets.
I swallowed frantically around his pulsing length, gulping down each jet as it kept coming, my throat working to take it all.
The heat of it slid down to pool warm in my belly, the taste of him lingering thick and musky on my tongue even as I milked him dry, sucking gently to draw out every last drop until he finally pulled free, spent and glistening, leaving my mouth full and dripping with his essence.
"Good girl," Victor grunted, milking the last of it onto my tongue. "Take it all." He reached down with his thumb, swiping at the cum that had escaped to my chin, and pushed his thumb into my mouth. I sucked it clean, my eyes watering, my body still trembling from my orgasm.
Victor zipped his pants and reached down, helping me to my feet. His hands were gentle now, almost tender, as he helped me step back into my panties and pull up my shorts. He smoothed my sweatshirt down, his hands lingering on my hips, and then he cupped my face, forcing me to look at him.
"Get out there," he said softly, his thumb tracing my swollen lower lip. "Before Brandon comes looking."
He gave my ass a playful slap, and I stumbled forward, my legs weak, my thighs sticky with my own arousal and his cum still coating my tongue. I walked toward the door on unsteady legs, opening it and stepping out into the cool night air.
Brandon turned from the fire, his face illuminated by the flames. "Hey," he said, smiling. "What took you so long?"
I stared at him, my mind blank. I had no answer. My lips felt swollen, used, and my tongue felt thick in my mouth.
"Zoe?" He tilted his head. "You okay? And where's the beer? I thought you were grabbing it."
Panic shot through me. I couldn't speak. If I didn't say anything, he was going to know something was wrong. He was going to—
"I got the beer," Victor said easily, his voice emerging just behind me. "You left them on the counter, Zoe."
Brandon laughed, the sound easy and oblivious. "Jesus, Zoe, what were you doing in there?"
Victor laughed softly, a private sound that sent a shiver down my spine. His fingers brushed mine as he passed me, and I felt the contact through my entire body.
"Come here," Brandon said, reaching for me. He pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist, and I let him, my body still humming with Victor's touch. "I missed you," he murmured, and then he leaned in to kiss me.
I froze for a heartbeat, panic sparking through me.
What if he could taste it? What if he knew?
The taste of Victor's cum was still thick on my tongue, coating my mouth, unmistakably masculine and foreign.
I pushed past the fear and kissed him anyway.
Brandon kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine, and I knew, God, I knew, that he was tasting his father on me, that the salt and musk filling his mouth wasn't mine.
An aftershock from my two massive orgasms shot through me, and I moaned into Brandon's mouth.
He pulled back, licking his lips, and smiled. "Mmm," he said, his eyes half-closed. "You taste good."
I went rigid, horrified, even as I forced a smile. He didn't know. He thought it was me, just me, just arousal, just the natural taste of my mouth. The irony made me want to scream.
Victor handed Brandon his beer, his eyes meeting mine over Brandon's shoulder, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips. "Drink your beer, son," he said, his voice carrying an edge of something possessive. "Or I'm going to get jealous."