The Ritual

She felt the tap on her cheek. A hand tapped it again. When her eyes fluttered open, the hand became a beckoning wave. She took a deep breath and let it out. The hand was gone. But she knew what she was to do. She got out of bed and followed the hand.

Standing in the room, he looked at the 42-year-old brunette. He approved of her nudity, admired the shape of her figure. When she bent down to set her panties and nightgown on the bed, he admired the roundness of her ass. "The Nectar Ritual," was all he said to her. He watched her tits jiggle as she knelt before him.

He called it the Nectar Ritual. But she always thought of it as the Blowjob Ritual. But never aloud, he would not approve of that. She had checked him. There was no large tent in his boxers. She would first have to get him hard. She pulled his boxers down to his knees. Holding his phallus in one hand, she pet it with the other. She always pets it in one direction, from the base to the head, as he had instructed her so often. At first, it just lay in her hand. Then it began to lengthen, to stiffen. When it rose from her hand on its own, she held it in her hands.

As was required by him, she held her hands open. The palms were together as if praying. Between her hands was his phallus. She held it as tightly as she could. That was the way he wanted it. She could feel blood pulsating in it. "I love you," she said, not to him but to his phallus. Then she kissed the tip of him.

"I worship you," she said with another kiss. "You are my master," another kiss. "I am your slave," a kiss. "Please give me your nectar," she said, continuing to address only his phallus. "It is what my body craves." On the sixth kiss, she took him into her mouth.

Her lips pressed against her thumbs, she only had about two inches in her mouth. She could have taken in more of him, but she wasn't to move her hands. She held her mouth still and started to tongue him. That was how he had told her to do it.

She sucked on it a little as she tongued him. She hoped it wouldn't be long. Sometimes, if she had been instructed to perform the Copulation Ritual the night before, it would take a long time to finish the Nectar Ritual in the morning.

She continued to tongue his head for ten minutes. Then, he started to moan softly, rocking his hips. In another five minutes, he stood on tiptoes and moaned loudly. His cum spurt into her mouth and she swallowed his nectar. With each twitch of his phallus he would spurt more nectar for her to swallow. She wasn't allowed to let any escape.

Back down on his heels, he sighed with relief. He loved watching her pray to his dick. And he loved the way the slow blowjob gave him more intense orgasms. He watched as she took her mouth from him. Holding him tightly still, she kept his dick stretched out. When a drop of cum would ooze from him, she would take him back into her mouth. In spite of her hold, eventually his dick retreated into her hands. Only then did she move her hands to her thighs. Another drop formed and she took the whole of him into her mouth. She sucked the drop away and swallowed.

"That was pretty good," he told her. He stepped back a little. A drop of cum fell from him and landed on the floor. He hoped it would.

She leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Master," she apologized as she licked the drop from the floor.

He liked the way it made her look as if she were groveling at his feet. But then, she was groveling before him. "Very well," he told her. "I need to get dressed now."

It was her cue to raise his boxers. She lifted the back over his ass, pulled up the front and adjusted them to his waist. Next to her nightgown, he had already laid out his clothes for the day. She picked up his jeans, and still kneeling before him, she helped him into them. He sat on the bed as she put his socks on, even tied his shoes. She finally stood when she put his T-shirt over his head. He was dressed for work now.

She looked at him with questioning eyes. Except for the Ritual, she was not to speak. "I have to be the job site at 6 A.M. every day this week," he informed her. "Expect to be woke up early every day." She was grateful for his telling of the situation. She nodded at the understanding as much for her consent.

He continued to explain how the foreman had them coming in early, leaving late. The overtime would be good. As he talked, she put her panties and nightgown back on. Finally, he left the room and went downstairs to the kitchen.

She looked at the clock and realized it wouldn't go off for another hour and a half. She could get a little more sleep. Gently and quietly, she returned to bed and placed the blanket over her. She smiled as she reveled at her submission to him. She heard the front door close, signaling that he had left for work. In his slumber, her husband placed an arm on her shoulder.

She knew she had erred. She had dressed in her son's room. She was never to be in his room unless nude. He said nothing of it at the time. Yet, she knew that her punishment would be the Anal Ritual tonight after her husband had fallen asleep. She made a mental note to check his nightstand for lube. It would be after her husband had left for work. For even with him gone, she felt compelled to follow his rule and not enter his realm while clothed.

Like a number of my other stories, this story attempts to answer "what if". I have fantasized about my son and have even written of it. But what if I were to give myself to him completely? What if I were to do whatever he may desire?