Last night’s fuck had been everything she needed. It had been so intense that there were vestiges on her body. The red marks on her waist, the tenderness in her breasts, the mild soreness in her insides. Her Dom had truly outdone himself.
Aftercare the night before had been focused on her. After guiding her on a journey to the stars, he was the tether safely bringing her back down to Earth. Sunday morning was the time to focus her care on him.
When he rolled onto his back, she slipped between his legs and laid her tongue on his morning wood. After all, “one who cares must meet the cared-for just as he is: as a whole human being with individual needs and interests.” It just so happened that her Dom’s individual needs and interests were orally fixated. What a good fortune that so were hers.
Her licks started out gentle, a slow build up not to startle him in the midway state between sleep and consciousness. She knew her warm breath and slow teasing along his shaft, down to his balls, were enough to harden him awake. A quiet grunt was the first success indicator.
Her hand pushed his cock out of the way gently as she took his balls inside her mouth, flicking them playfully. The teasing vibrations were a way to regain agency: he had never commanded her to put her balls in her mouth. This was all her.
His legs parted. She moaned against his balls, leaning in closer, her arms moving to hold his legs the way he held hers when he ate her out. For a minute, she could put herself in his shoes, feeling the thrill of controlling a vulnerable someone’s pleasure. When his hips lifted, in his mind he was showing approval. In hers, he was just begging.
She loved slow Sundays, but it was time to stop fooling around. He needed to cum and she would be his guide to the stars. She moved her lips to his head, letting his flesh press her lips around her teeth on its way in. His hand moved to her cheek. Hers moved to his balls. She started moving in and out.
She moaned when he grabbed her hair by instinct, lustful, perhaps hoping to guide her, but she was in charge this time. She kept her pace against his prompting, already an expert in making him cum. She would only accept his help eventually when it meant he’d hit her throat deeper.
She swirled her tongue all over his cock with each of her strokes, holding her reflex for a couple of seconds every time her tongue reached his balls so that she could hear his grunts when he hit her throat. Oh, God, she loved those grunts. So much that she pushed herself beyond her own limit and she ended up gagging around him each time. In those moments, his guiding hand was welcome; he’d press the back of her head firmly to make sure she didn’t move away before she lost control herself.
Her eyes filled with tears the brief moment he looked into them.
Between licks from his head to his balls, gags and well-timed hand strokes to let herself breathe, she knew his orgasm was imminent. The intoxicating taste of his precum made her thirsty and she sustained the pace he needed to empty his balls in her mouth. It was working: his back arched, his moans got louder.
His body convulsed in pleasure, a rare sight, when he finally exploded inside her. Always a good girl, she let his first spurt hit her throat. Then she moved to catch the rest on her tongue.
She displayed his cum proudly on her tongue. He always enjoyed the confidence-building sight of her swallowing all of him, returning the power to the balance he preferred. He chuckled and she smiled. He was on his way back to Earth and it was now the time for aftercare.
“Coffee’s ready. How would you like your eggs today?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/u5n343/sunday_aftercare_fm_blowjob