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He was fine with the fact that she’d never been able to take his entire cock into her mouth. By virtue of her short height, the rest of her was anatomically smaller in comparison to him. Additionally, he was endowed enough to the point she was only ever able to take half of him. He never minded that, especially since she’s at all times willing to please him. She does it the way he loves, the best way she knows how. Slow, sloppy, and twisting her hand up and down whatever length was left. But more than that, she just loved gagging on his cock. She’d explained to him that gagging, on its own, induced *pleasant* physical sensations for her: shivers down her spine, and tingles at the back of her throat. And of course, anything she loves, he loves.

Besides that, he was just plain *obsessed* with the sound she made whenever she gagged: this dainty choking noise that trickled into a pleased sigh, as if she was having the meal of a lifetime. He doesn’t know how she does it—how she made it look and sound so delectable to suck on his dick, of all things.

So how it usually was, was perfect already—he couldn’t ask for anything better.

Of course, though, he has to be honest with himself. Whenever he sees her pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing her cute head like it’s what she was made to do—there’s a curious part of him that wonders how she would take it if he pushed her head down just a *bit* further? Just a *bit* deeper? Would it *bulge* into her pretty throat?

He doesn’t let that wondered simmer. He never wants to hurt her; never wants to overstep her boundaries.

So when she tells him, on one lazy afternoon when she’s cuddling up against his chest, having just woken up from a nap that:

“I really wanna deepthroat you.”

His brain shortcircuits.

Granted, he also just woke up from that nap with her. His brain is on buffer mode. He blinks slowly, then studies her face—all cute and determined, despite having just woken up. It makes him want to kiss her so fucking badly, so he moves closer, only to promptly recall he has to respond. So instead, he stops to stare at her lips, and asks: “Why?”

“Just something I’ve always wanted to do” she confesses, fiddling around with a loose stitch on the patch of his old university hoodie, “But I know you’re really cautious, even when it comes to stuff like that.”

“Especially when it comes to stuff like that,” He affirms, pushing her hair away from her face when he slides a hand to her cheek, “Stuff that involves potentially hurting you.”

She nods at that, understanding what he means. But she continues her case, “That’s the thing. I trust you won’t hurt me, same way you trust I won’t hurt you. Either way, we have a safeword for a reason.”

That’s true, she trusts him and he trusts her. But the dangerous part is that he’s not sure if he can trust *himself*. Of course he’ll stop immediately—just as soon as she says her safeword. What he’s concerned about is just how desperate he is for her. He worries that he might end up wanting it too much, might end up asking her to deepthroat him every single day because he just needs her so badly all the damn time. Even now it’s taking heroic amounts of effort to stop himself from kissing her. It’s silly, but he’s a selfish guy. He likes to think he is—he’s learnt to be selfish around her when she spoils him with so much affection and intimacy. What she’s giving him is already more than enough, it’s perfect and—

“It’s purely because I want to. For my own pleasure,” She asserts firmly, looking at him straight in his eyes, only to quirk her lips up into a cheeky grin, “Hate to break it to you, but this time, your pleasure’s a convenient bonus.”

He huffs a laugh at that—it doesn’t completely ease his worries, but just seeing her happy is enough to smoothen out the tension knotted up in his chest.

She eases her lips into a gentle smile, “Take your time to think about it, dear. Just letting you know it’s on the table, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, love.”

She nuzzles her face into his palm, turning to press a chaste kiss to the skin; to cherish the rough texture.

Shit, he can’t handle it anymore. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, barely even distanced from her lips.

“Of course. I’m your girlfriend, silly.”

He sighs out another *thank you* just as he slots his lips into hers, his voice lost to the inviting sensation of her mouth—she’s just as dizzy on his mouth too, hot breaths overlapping and overflowing and *enveloping*. They’re both so close that he can’t tell who’s the one doing the giving and who’s the one doing the taking. Someone pulls away, just a little less than half an inch, leaving him breathless for a second before pressing back into her. Her hands roam down his chest, and even through the thick cloth of his hoodie, he can revel in how much the mellow touch warms him up to the point he can feel himself unravelling. More, more, more—he wants *more*.

He grips the along the edge of her jaw, angling her mouth to his—they’re both so pliant to each other like this. He slips his tongue past her lips to meet hers and the breathy noise she makes has him going lightheaded, fuck. He could kiss her for hours, for days, for as long as he lives. It’s just so easy to desire her, so easy to give in to her, and so difficult to withstand her. Sure, he’s a passionate guy—his ambitions are the very proof of that. But he never lets his passion get in the way of his process; he’s not the type to succumb to temptation so easily, let alone at all.

But he’s never been satisfied the way she satisfies him. It has him asking for her at all times.

He groans when she pulls away, the thinnest line of spit following her bottom lip, saliva-slick and plump and glossy—

“I think you’re hard,” she tells him.

“Huh?” He says in a daze, then looks down at his crotch. He is indeed hard. And leaking precum. “Huh.” He’s grown out of feeling ashamed for stuff like this, but he’s pretty sure if he was sixteen and got rock hard just from kissing, he’d be pretty embarrassed about it. But bodies are bodies. Plus, why would he mind at all when he knows she’s here and happy to help?

“Well, happens,” he says, but when he looks back up at her, she’s still staring down at the bulge in his sweatpants with the look in her eyes that he knows too well—wide-eyes and parted lips, like a cat that wants to play. It’s *precious*; makes him want to have some fun with her.

He smirks a devilish smirk, bucking his hips forward, “Like what you see, cutie?”

“Yes, I do,” she says bluntly, looking back up at him—practically begging with her eyes, whether she’s aware of it or not. With a face like that, who could deny her? She bats her eyelashes at him, waiting patiently for him to react. He knows she knows what she does to him but despite that—

He still gives in.

Drawing his thumb against her kiss-plumped bottom lip, he says “Open your mouth for me.”

She parts her mouth, sticking her tongue out and splaying it over her bottom lip. His cock aches painfully at the sight. He presses his thumb into her wet tongue, and she twitches at the sensation. He watches her intently, drawing his thumb up and down her tongue—she’s *squirming* already, as if he was playing with her clit or something. “So much saliva…” he says absentmindedly, focusing on her face as he keeps a firm grip on her jaw, and explores her mouth with his thumb.

“You said you wanted to deepthroat me, right, cutie?” he asks, to which she nods.

He presses his thumb into her cheek.

He wonders then—more than he asks—“Would you be able to handle it?”

She nods again. He loves how *responsive* she is to every single word he says—it just proves that she’s paying attention. She’s only focusing on him. So he pushes his thumb right to the back of her tongue, rubbing that sensitive area to induce a gag out of her.

Sure enough, she gags. The sound between a whine and a gasp, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. But she doesn’t back away from his hand. She wraps her lips around his thumb and starts licking around it, in an attempt to communicate what she wants: more, more, *more*.

Hm. It gets him curious.

He slips his thumb out from her wet mouth, “All right. I’ll let you deepthroat me.”

“Ah!” she smiles the brightest smile, suddenly tackling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!”

He can’t help that he can feel himself smiling too. But he continues, “On two conditions.”

She pulls away, smile not fully gone, but she stays attentive. “Mhm, what would those be, love?”

Cradling her cheek in his hand, he continues, “You have to follow my orders. And if at any point you feel uncomfortable, we’re stopping.”

She nods. “Understood.”

“Good girl,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. It has butterflies surging up in her stomach from how sweet he is, and she dips forward because she wants to kiss him again, but he moves away. He sits up, swings his legs over the edge of the bed, spreads his knees aside and pats the space in between his thighs. “Come here and kneel for me.”

So she does, making herself comfortable where she kneels before him. It’s hard to focus when he’s tenting through his sweatpants, a wet patch where the tip is leaking precum—it urges the spit in her mouth to create to the point she just needs *somewhere* to put it all.

“Look at you—so excited already,” he observes, “Take it out for me.”

Emboldened by his words, she leans forward and pulls his sweatpants down, letting out the most whorish sigh the moment she finally sees his delicious cock. All she can think about is how much she needs it in her mouth *now*—she hasn’t even put him in her mouth yet and she misses the flavor already, she misses the heat, and the weight of it when it sits heavy on her tongue. Just *thinking* about having it in her mouth is enough to make her go completely stupid.

“Owner, can I kiss it?” She asks politely, looking up at him with her willing eyes. If she had a tail, it would be swaying around by now.

“Start however you’d like, dear,” He answers, resting his hand on her head, but not pushing or forcing it anywhere. Just a reminder that she’s *his*.

He lets out a slow and deep breath when she begins with soft, wet kisses from his balls to the base of his cock, to the shaft, all the way to the tip—making sure not to neglect a single spot. This is her owner’s cock, it’s only right for her to worship it properly! Afterall, he was so generous to let her have it for her own selfish pleasure. She holds it sheepishly with one hand, the other resting on his thigh as she presses her tongue flat against the base—licking up and all around.

“Such a good girl, getting me all wet and hard,” he praises—ruffling the hair at the top of her head playfully, as if she were actually his personal indoor pet. She whines at the wondered of being owned like that, so much so that it compels her to wrap her lips around the tip of his cock, and swirl her tongue around the leaking head. It makes her want to cry, how good it is to finally have him in her mouth. She needs the heat to sink in and overwhelm her to the point she can’t take it anymore. “Ah, *fuck*, already, pet? You wanna suck me off that bad?”

She nods, swirling and swirling her tongue around the head so consistently that for a few moments, all he can do is take deep breaths. Why did he agree to this? Who knows how long he’ll even last? He’ll have to challenge himself to endure it.

But with her mouth around the head of his cock like that, all he’s thinking about is how he’s gonna fuck her throat.

He inhales, exhales.

“All right dear,” he starts slowly, and she looks up at him, the head of his cock still in her pretty mouth, and her fingers working their way up and down the shaft. “Let’s try to take it slow.”

She nods.

“Take it deep enough to hit your throat—but don’t push past it just yet.”

She sighs, pleased, the sensation reverberating through his cock so prettily it makes his thighs twitch. She does as told, slowly taking him in to the end of her throat, where she usually stops. It’s a little less than half his entire cock.

He runs tender fingers through her hair. “Very well pet, just like that,” he gently rolls her head around under his grip like she’s some kind of bobblehead toy, just so his cock can rub across the back of her throat—he’s trying to tickle another gag out of her. “You sure you wanna keep going, pet?”

This time she doesn’t gag, miraculously. She just hums around his length, pleased by the shivers that run down her spine whenever the tip of his cock teases the entrance of her throat. She blinks like a good slut at him—patient as ever, but even moreso just as *eager* as ever.

He grins, wolfish. He doesn’t know how menacing it comes off, doesn’t realize just how dark and half-lidded his eyes have gotten—doesn’t realize just how wet it’s making her—seeing him all riled up, and heaving a breath one after the other. All while a plan to ruin her throat is cooking up in his head.

His hand is weightless on the top of her head, because he’s not applying any pressure at all. She’s begging her gods that he’ll push her head down at some point.

He says, “Take more of it in. As much as you can.”

She does, and the feeling is her filthiest catharsis. With significant effort, it penetrates past the tight ring of her throat—urging tears to form at the corner of her eyes, because it’s *too much*, but in the sense that’s it’s *perfectly* more than enough. It feels like she’s finally being filled to the brim within the space that’s been so empty this whole time.

“*Oh*,” he gasps out, struggling to grab at something only to choose to grab at the sheets instead of her head, “It’s *tight*.”

This has her moaning around him, only for her to gag—contracting her sloppy throat around his thick cock—

“Fuck,” He furrows his brow, “*ah*,” his whole body completely shivers at the pleasure—and she finally pulls off, but like the desperate whore that she is, she continues licking and sucking at his length despite having just gagged. She wants to prove that it’s *because* of the gag that she still needs him in her mouth. She looks up at him again, awaiting his next order—*in my mouth, need him, need him in my mouth*—is all she muster in her cock-drunk head.

He’s panting, “Hell, I knew you liked oral but I didn’t know you were this much of a mouthslut.”

This makes her giggle, *he’s having a hard time keeping up*. So she gives him reprieve, moving away from his cock to say contentedly, “Feels yummy when I gag.”

“I know, cutie.” Slowly, he starts catching his breath again. He pulls her face closer, slaps his cock against her lips to part it open again, “Now let’s try something new, yeah?”

She nods and hums happily as his cock slips back into her mouth, slides against her greedy tongue.

“We’re gonna see if you can keep it there for at least six seconds, okay?”

Her only response is another vibration of a whine against his cock.

That wolfish grin comes back to his mouth. “Good girl, I’ll do the counting,” he rests his hand to the back of her head, where it sits just that little bit heavier against her. “Get it in your throat now, dear.”

So she does—doing exactly what she did the first time and forcing the fat tip of his cock past the boundary of her throat—and she keeps it there, where all the saliva keeps pooling and dripping past the corners of her mouth and down the base of his cock. She still can’t take all of him, but it’s definitely more than half now.

He starts counting, breath shaky.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

With this, he’s not just testing her, but himself too.

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Six.”

Then pulls her off his cock with a tug of her hair, and watches the drool spill from her stupid mouth with rapt *conviction*. To anyone else maybe he looks a little bit sadistic, but to her he just looks determined. Downright *hellbent* on taking this as far as it can go, both his cock and her capacity for it. “Such a good pet for me,” he says kindly despite the look on his face, “At this rate, you’ll be better than a pet. How ‘bout that? what do you think?”

With her throat having just taken a cock, and her brains practically scrambled from taking that same cock for more than five seconds, her voice croaks out, “What do you mean, owner?” (“Guh…so much saliva,” she whispers to herself—it’s all over her hands, even dripped down to her chest).

“Means you’ll be my toy, cutie,” He presses the tip of his cock into her cheek to get her attention back on him, “Now open that pretty girl mouth for me again. Let’s try ten seconds now, ‘kay?”

She nods like a bobblehead, slipping his cock back into her mouth so easily it makes her feel like a cocksleeve. Huh. He’s right—at this rate, she’ll be dumber than a pet—just a toy for him to use. And that’s his plan all along, with training her throat like this. So he can rail into her *pharynx* all he wants. The wondered has her dripping at her mouth *and* in between her legs. But she honestly doesn’t even need to get off at this point, She just wants to gag and choke on her owner’s cock all day, completely satisfied with doing this for hours.

Like muscle memory, her throat takes him in easier this time. But his hand at the back of her head pushes her down just that bit further, and it makes her want to sob in pure gratitude and pure ecstasy. She hums and whines and whimpers around his cock—sending vibrations all across his length like a good little fleshlight should.

He starts counting even through the white-hot tension in his gut,

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Her tongue is relentless even with his cock suffocating her airway—moving and swirling around because it helps her forget to gag. She looks up at him innocently, because of course sucking a cock is just any other fun activity for a pet like her to do.

“…Four.”

He falters for a moment—”*God*, your throat’s damn tight—” he chuckles out, trying not to focus too much on the sensation because he doesn’t want to cum in her throat when he’s the one counting down for her. Even though he wants to revel in the sensation, wants to use her throat like a second pussy. It’s all so frustrating enough that a drop of sweat drips down his temple, and his whole body burns from the need to hold himself back. But he loves it—loves teasing himself when it involves teasing her too. It’s straight-up addicting.

“Five.”

His breathing was fine in the beginning, but now all he can manage are strangled gasps. He’s on the precipice of losing his own mind—but he pushes through anyway, as he at all times promises himself to do. Finish what you begin.

“Six—*six*—”

Even though his thoughts are looking pretty hazy in his head now.

“S-seven.”

“…Eight.”

“Nine,”

Her throat contracts, and she looks up at him—apologizing.

“*Ten*—” He can’t handle it anymore. He grips her by the jaw with his index and thumb, holding her still where he can rest his throbbing dick on her dripping tongue.

“Keep your mouth open for me baby,” and it only takes a few pumps of his cock before he’s cumming all over her pretty tongue, “Ah, *fuck*…!” he empties himself out, hips buckling until he finds himself completely sated.

She’s a good girl, keeping her mouth open only until he orders her to close it.

“Swallow,” he says.

And she takes it like a good pet does, gulping it all down with joy and satisfaction—simply delighted to have her owner’s seed in her tummy.

Even *this* is enough to make him horny for her again. “Let me see, pet.”

She sticks her tongue out for him so he can make sure she hasn’t wasted a single drop.

“Perfect,” He says, a soft smile at his lips when he strokes her head. She hums and smiles stupidly. “How are you feeling, love?”

Her voice is fucked-out, but there’s a happy chirp to it that relieves him, “I’m feeling amazing,” she kisses at his thighs, “Thank you so, *so* much—”

“Ah, *haha*—stop kissing at my thighs like that, I’ll get hard again,” He laughs out nervously.

“I wouldn’t mind that…” she stands up on shaking legs, then lifts up her oversized shirt, “Just look at how wet you made me.”

​

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don’t mind me…just indulging myself ! apologies for any typos and/or logic lapses.

as at all times, comments make me a very happy writer :DD

NSFW: yes

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