Placing the screen in my field of vision on the bed next to him, he played the pictures of our son presenting his cock to the camera.
The pictures were thought out, not hasty, the cock was in focus and in full detail. Having his father’s cock in my mouth I could compare them very well.
Adam shaved his pubes and posed his cock from every angle, it was obvious that he was his father’s son. Their cocks were almost identical.
I loved Mark’s bulbous head, like a tennis ball, maybe not, but almost, then that ridge around the helmet, prominent and hard, flaring out and then cutting back abruptly making my mouth and pussy “plop” every time he’d push it in or pull it out.
From beneath the helmet he expands out to about halfway down the shaft when it evens off the rest of the way down, and that’s a long way!
Rarely have I had a cock almost as good as Marks, hard, fat and as long as Mark’s.
From pictures, you couldn’t really tell the size of his cock, but after a couple we found that Adam had added a prop next to it, so that it could be compared to something everyone knew the size of. He was aware that he had an impressive tool.
With the base of his deodorant can resting on his balls he made a set of pictures.
I was already salivating uncontrollably over my man, but seeing the can dwarfed by the size of my baby’s manhood I chocked.
I remembered when my husband and I would go shopping, how we’d compare phallic objects on the shelves, this one we called “the happy widow.”
Mark turned the screen so he could see better, and changed the slideshow to Adam’s stash of naughty pictures of our daughter.
A picture of our beautiful daughter’s pussy filled the screen. A picture of her round hair brush sticking out of her ass while she teased her clit with her delicate fingers. If it wasn’t for the other pictures of her along with this one, you could think that it was some other “slut” playing with herself, not our little baby. But it was Annie, our daughter, probably already walking in her mother’s footsteps.
It was late, and Mark used the pictures of our daughter to push himself over the top.
I felt the twitch, I prepared myself, taking the first few jets of cum straight down my throat and then collecting the other half in my mouth.
Mark cums a lot, I love his taste, and I hate to spill any of it. I know just when to pull off and have enough left to fill my mouth to the brim, I then savor my man’s seed until it dissolves into the nectar that I crave, before I swallow.
Tonight, another flashback, induced by the smell and taste of my ‘curse’, to my teenage years, when my girlfriends liked to tease each other with the question: ‘spit or swallow?’ and my own puzzlement, ‘swallow,’ ‘what’s the dilemma?’
Our room had taken on the sweet smell of sweat and cum, like Adam’s this morning. I inhaled deeply and snuggled against my man for the night.
Next day I spent at home alone, analyzing the pictures that Adam had collected. I disassembled every frame that he had taken, discovering the time and place of many of the pictures, the atmosphere that I could detect about the shots, and most of all, the techniques that he used to get all of those pictures.