“Yes,” he pants. “That’s my little cum-loving whore. I want to see you play with it, Emma. Show me how you play with your food.”
I slowly lift my tongue, until the tip of it rises from the sultry mire. I swirl it around, feeling the stringy clumps of clotted sperm parting with its passage. I imagine I can feel the individual cells wriggling in excitement. Just like I am. Now, I’m gargling. The cum is so thick, the bubbles are struggling to reach the surface. Some of the sloshing liquid is threatening to boil over and Alena is there to help push it back in.
“You look like a goddess right now,” praises Steven. “Like a pure and perfect goddess. Okay, baby. I know it won’t be easy. But, you know what you need to do.”
By my count, I have eleven loads of sperm in my mouth. It’s a new personal record and I’m filled with equal parts shame and pride. Gingerly and carefully, I close my mouth. My ballooning cheeks and aching jaws strain to contain the massive mouthful. I squeeze my pursed lips tight. They tremble against the incredible pressure. I feel a drop of sweat coursing down my temple.
Alena is crouched behind me, softly stroking my head. With her other hand, she reaches around to hold mine, in support. Our semen-slathered fingers lace together tightly.
“You can do this, gorgeous,” she coos in my ear. “I’ve seen what you can do. I watched your video a dozen times, and I know you can take it a step further.”
I draw a deep, shuddering breath and take my first tentative gulp. The cum slides down my throat in a bitter torrent. There’s instant relief for my aching jaw.
“That’s it, girl,” says Alena. “Fill that little cum-dump of a tummy for me.”
I take my second gulp. This one is more dense, and I can feel the jelly-thick clumps as they sluice down my gullet. The taste is objectively awful. I recognize that. But some part of my brain must be flipped upside-down and inside-out because it also tastes like heaven.
One last swallow and I can get it all down. But I’m realizing that it’s easier said than done. I use my tongue to feel through the remaining sperm. There’s very little liquid left amid the stringy pulp, and there’s enough left that my lower teeth are still submerged in the lumpy dross.
I tilt my head back until I’m staring at the ceiling, and the semen has slid to the back of my throat. I put a hand to my lips, just in case, and give one last grueling gulp. The viscous cum is so sticky it clings to the walls of my slender throat. I feel a moment of panic and tighten my grip on Alena’s hand. But, my overtaxed esophagus works through the gooey clogs until I’ve finally swallowed everything. I can’t help but let out a few wet coughs. Once I’ve recovered, I’m half panting and half laughing in relief. Alena is hugging me from behind, kissing and lapping at my neck and shoulders.
“Good job, baby girl!” Says Alena. She starts rubbing tenderly at my tummy. “How did it feel to eat the cum of nine different men?”
“There’s nothing else in the world like it, Alena,” I say. “I only wish we could have shared it together.”
“One of these days, angel. You can count on it.”
~~~~~
It’s been five weeks since that night, and I still dream about it. About everything great and everything awful that happened. I sometimes wonder if it was just some vivid fantasy. But then I would remember Steven’s words as he, Rafael, and myself rode the elevator to the lobby.
“Emma, honey,” he said. “Once we step outside the doors of the Waterhouse, the fantasy is over. We all go back to our lives, and all that happened tonight was Anton taking some nice photos of you in your wedding dress.”
“What,” I asked. “Am I supposed to forget what happened tonight?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. In fact, I don’t want you to forget a single thing. I won’t forgive you if you do. I want you to remember the feeling of Alena’s tongue and how Rafael’s cock felt inside of you. I want you to remember what it felt like to spread yourself for Anton’s camera and what my semen tastes like. But that’s all. Once we leave this hotel, don’t come looking for more. I’ll decide when the time is right. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Steven, I understand. And more than you might think. I understand that everything that happened tonight was a part of your plan. You knew what I would say and do at every turn. Belle Mariée, the dress, the photo shoot, everyone involved. You orchestrated all of it just to manipulate me.”
“You’re very clever, Emma,” he said with a wicked smirk. “What can I say? This is what I do; how I get what I want. Do you think I built my empire on kindness and honesty? This isn’t some children’s storybook we’re living in. And I had nothing to do with your little video, did I?”
“No, you didn’t. But you took advantage at every turn. And I’m not one of your goddamned business deals!”
“Don’t do this, Emma. You’re starting to pretend again. Don’t forget, I know you. I know what you want and what you’re willing to give up to get it. I’ve only done what’s best for all of us, including you.”
“Fuck you, Steven!”
I was suddenly feeling Rafael’s looming presence differently. Instead of the stifling sexual tension that defined our previous elevator ride, he now instilled nothing but fear and intimidation in me. I hated having to feel that way about him. The second the elevator doors opened I stalked away without another word; almost expecting Rafael to grab me.
I didn’t see or speak with Steven again until the wedding. I was afraid that encountering him again would ruin the whole day. But Steven was pleasant and cordial and behaving exactly the way a proud father should behave at his son’s wedding.
It would be an understatement to say I was anxious about the wedding dress. By the time that fever dream of a night had ended, the dress was certainly ruined. It was drenched with sweat and spattered with cum. But the dress that showed up on the morning of the wedding was pristine. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but I quickly started noticing subtle differences. The bastard bought a second dress. It would have been logistically impossible to have another one made so soon. He must have commissioned two dresses at the same time. Again, he knew exactly how that night would play out. I wonder what he’s done with the other dress. It’s probably on display in some secret room of his sprawling estate. A trophy. A memorial of his conquest. I forced myself to stop dwelling on it and focus on the wedding at hand. Soon the anxiety passed, and the day ended about as perfectly as I could have hoped.
~~~~~
Jacob and I spent our honeymoon in Japan; a two-week tour that was everything I could have hoped for. Beautiful sights, wonderful food, and passionate sex. Everything. I’m not sure either of us had ever been so happy.
One night we returned to our room to find a package waiting for us. The customs label showed that it was sent from New York. Inside was an advance copy of the latest issue of Belle Mariée. We were both shocked and elated to see myself on the cover; a stunning black and white photo of me against the city skyline. We flipped through the magazine and my heart stopped when we reached the lingerie shoot. I was prepared for an argument, but Jacob understood. He told me that it would be selfish of him to keep me all to himself. Others deserved to see how beautiful I could be. If only he knew the half of it.