It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to describe the pleasure in cum inflation to someone who's never experienced it. The sensation is just so unlike anything else, the feeling of fullness, the sensation of gallons of cum flowing inside of you... really though it is the subtle things that make the difference I find. What I can say, for certain, is that cum inflation isn't for everyone. And for those of us who are into it, each has his or her own reason. A gay friend of mine, for example, says he loves the feeling of being so full. A girlfriend of mine says she loves the sight of herself with a big cum belly in the mirror and pretends that she's pregnant. Me? The source of my attraction is nowhere near as wholesome.
"Good girl..." Master said, his voice just above a whisper. I could barely hear him from beneath his desk, or over the sound of me slurping up his cock for that matter.
I said nothing in reply. Not only had Master told me repeatedly that: 'jizz drains are best felt, not heard' there wasn't much I could say, his thick canine cock creating an almost airtight seal in my throat. So, I responded by increasing my efforts. Bobbing my head up and down his slobbery shaft faster and deeper than before, face fucking myself, spluttering and gagging, in pursuit of my creamy reward.
A smile played on the corners of my mouth. My labor was already being rewarded by a surprisingly loud moan from my Master above the desk and I could hear his tail beating against his chair. Master usually tried to keep quiet while we were banging, wanting to keep our little affair quiet even though it was an open secret him and I were fucking. He had once explained to me he liked to try to maintain 'plausible deniability', in case the bar ever launched any sort of ethics complaint. Not that, so far as I'm aware, its against the law to fuck your law partner's barely legal daughter, it still didn't look good.
...
Our relationship started a little over a year ago, right after my 18th birthday. As an aspiring lawyer, my dad had allowed me to throw the party in his law office after hours. He told me that it might look good later in life if I could share with prospective employers that 'I loved the law so much my 18th birthday was in a law office!" Personally, that sounded hackneyed and too fake sounding to ever be taken seriously. But that was dad for you, constantly looking for the angles and taking the long shots. It was at that party, however, that my life changed forever.
A friend of mine had snuck a flask of whisky into the party. Not that dad would have cared anyway, if not for mom I'm pretty sure he would have offered to bring the booze himself. He'd started drinking at a young age and, as he'd repeatedly bragged, "I turned out fine!"
I had drank before, but mostly light stuff like beer and the occasional small glass of wine. As such, I wasn't used to how fast I'd get this drunk on the hard stuff. About an hour into the party, I was already blitzed and not handling it well. I needed to get away from the fellow party guests and stumbled into what, I had thought, was the women's bathroom on the executive floor, expecting the floor to be empty on a Saturday night. Instead, I found dad's junior law partner jacking off his considerable penis inside a condom with a look of almost pain on his face.
"Oh my god!" I giggled loudly, drunkenly. "Is that your cock! It's fucking massive!"
I know what you must be thinking about my Master, but let me reassure you he did nothing untoward that night. He did his best to try to say no, but I practically forced myself onto him. I mean, besides the biggest dick I've ever seen in my life, he is just SO my type. I mean, he is hung like a racehorse? But handsome, tall, rich and packing the sort of heat that would make the most seasoned porn star blush? What isn't there to like? Later, I would come to find out, wasn't just a pretty package. He knew how to fuck too.
He had turned me into his "oral only" slut after that night, telling me I could have "all the cock I wanted" but only orally. Furthermore, he wouldn't risk losing his wife and kids over pussy. "I would rather not end up like your old man. I caught him balls deep in his secretary a few years ago. Biggest reason why I made partner." It was a crass way to talk about a man in front of his daughter, but my dad's cheating was an open family secret. As long as mom could keep her head buried in the sand, what dad did in his time was dad's business. I didn't mind being Master's oral-only slut. I found fulfillment in other ways.
...
"Good girl..." He repeated, slightly louder and in the present. This time gently taking hold of the back of my head. He was getting close, in the year since I'd become his personal 'suck pet' I'd become very familiar with his little idiosyncrasies; both inside and outside the bedroom... or office in this case.
The first sign was when he'd reach behind my head and began to caress my hair. He'd start gently and then get rougher, gripping tighter and forcing my head down, as he neared orgasm. I find there are, generally, two types of men during a blow job. Those that let you set about your task, and those that try and get more involved: grabbing your hair or trying to force your head down. Personally, I prefer those that let you do your job, it always leads to much better head that way. I do know what I'm doing, I've had more than enough practice, after all. For the most part, Master lets me set my pace and take care of it, but as release gets closer he starts to get handsy. Not long after the head grab comes affection, or at least as close as Master ever gets to showing me any affection. He starts showering me with praise, telling me what a good girl I am or how I've done such a great job draining his balls. If he's really feeling it, he'll go as far as to say he'll 'make me his' but I know that's just talk. We'll never have that type of relationship. He's married with children, after all. The last sign, when his ejaculation down my throat is intimate, is all physical. I'll feel it in his shaft, sometimes even see it in his balls, as they throb under the tension of release. That's when I know to cram as much air into my lungs as I can. Some days he preferred to spay it against my face or cleavage, but that was rare. Master didn't like messes, so he usually blasted his hot thick cum down the back of my throat instead. Besides, Master cums so much, it's impossible for me to swallow all of it! Typically, plenty ends up on my face and cleavage, with a facial or not.
I could hear him grunt and feel his wolf cock twitch. Here it comes! I thought to myself, my tail wagging as I prepared for the usual deluge of cum.
