Mom had him on his knees from the second the bedroom door clicked shut. Her voice was low, sharp, the kind that left no room for argument.
"Strip.
Now. And don't you dare look away once it starts."
Dad's hands shook as he peeled off his clothes, his cock already half-hard despite the humiliation burning in his chest. He knew what was coming. He'd known since she first whispered it weeks ago, that filthy plan about their son, about making him watch, about forcing him to clean up after.
The door opened again. Their son walked in, tall, built, already pulling his shirt over his head. He didn't hesitate. He never did anymore. Mom smiled at him like a predator, then pointed at the floor beside the bed.
"On your knees right there, husband. Mouth open when I tell you. Tongue ready."
Dad obeyed. The carpet burned his skin. Mom climbed onto the bed naked, legs spread, and pulled their son between them. She moaned loud when he pushed inside her, thick and deep, the wet sound of it filling the room. Dad's face was inches away. He could smell her arousal, see every inch disappearing into her.
"Fuck her harder," Mom ordered their son. "Make it sloppy for your father."
Their son grunted and slammed in, hips snapping. Mom's tits bounced, her pussy stretched around him. Every thrust pushed cream out around the base of his cock. She reached down, grabbed Dad by the hair, and shoved his face closer.
"Lick. Right where we're joined. Taste what you're not allowed to have."
Dad's tongue dragged over the stretched skin, salty and slick, catching the mix of her juices and their son's pre-cum. He gagged but kept licking, forced to service them both while Mom laughed breathlessly above him.
"That's it. Good little cuck. Keep that tongue busy while our boy fucks me."
Their son fucked harder, grunting, sweat dripping. Mom came first, thighs clamping, pussy pulsing and flooding Dad's mouth. She didn't let him pull back. She held him there until their son pulled out and slapped his wet cock against Dad's lips.
"Clean him," she said. "Every drop."
Dad opened his mouth. The thick cock pushed past his lips, still throbbing, coated in Mom's cream. He sucked, tasting both of them, while Mom stroked their son's balls and whispered filthy praise.
"Swallow it all. You're nothing but our cleanup boy tonight."
Their son came down his throat with a groan. Mom made him swallow every spurt, then pushed him onto his back on the floor. She straddled Dad's face again, lowering her dripping cunt onto his mouth while their son watched and stroked himself hard again.
"Keep eating. We're not done with you."
Hours blurred. Dad licked, sucked, and swallowed on command while Mom and their son used every position, every hole, forcing him to participate without ever getting to fuck. His own cock leaked untouched, aching, denied. When they finally finished, Mom made him thank them both, voice hoarse, face shiny with their combined mess.
She patted his cheek like a pet.
"Same time tomorrow. And don't forget who's in charge."
Dad stayed on his knees long after they left the room, the taste still thick on his tongue, the shame and heat twisting together until he couldn't tell them apart.
