Midnight Dough and Borrowed Skin

The kitchen counter was covered in flour. Kylie had been trying to bake—her pregnant cravings apparently now included bread at midnight—but the moment I walked in with Bobby and Rick, the flour became the least interesting white powder in the room.

Layla was already naked on the counter, her thick thighs spread, her puffy pink nipples standing hard in the cool air. She'd been waiting. Her fingers were between her legs, working her clit in slow circles, and when she saw the three of us she licked her lips and said, "I've been thinking about foreskins all day. My pussy is literally dripping."

She wasn't exaggerating. I could see the slick shine on her inner thighs from across the room.

Kylie waddled over from the stove, her pregnant belly leading the way, milk already spotting through her thin t-shirt in two widening circles. "I can't bake," she announced. "I can't think about anything except the way Bobby's cum felt inside your dick last time, Peter. I've been thinking about it for days. The way your foreskin swelled with his load." She pulled her shirt off, and her tits were heavier than before, the veins more prominent, the nipples leaking in thin continuous streams. "I want to watch. I want to watch every single dick dock into yours and fill your hood with cum. And then I want you to push it all into me."

Layla sat up. "Into us. Take turns. Fill his foreskin with everyone's cum and then fuck it into each of us."

Bobby was already hard. Of course he was—his uncut dick seemed to exist in a permanent state of three-quarter erection, the foreskin hanging long and loose past his head, the tip of his hood dark and wrinkled and wet with constant pre-cum. He stepped up to the counter and Layla grabbed him immediately, her fingers gripping his shaft, pulling his foreskin forward into a long pointed tube. "Look at this," she said, almost to herself. "So much skin. It just keeps going." She peeled it back slowly, and his head emerged dark and slick, the ridge fat and purple, and she licked the exposed tip with one flat stroke of her tongue before pulling the skin back up. "I love the way it slides," she murmured. "Like a little mouth."

"Dock him into Peter," Kylie said. She'd stripped completely and was sitting on a kitchen stool, one hand under her belly, the other between her legs, two fingers inside herself. "I want to see it from the front this time."

I stepped forward, my own dick jutting out, thick and heavy, the foreskin already half-retracted from my constant semi. My shaft throbbs with that endless pulse that never stops—the one that leaks pre-cum in a continuous slow drip, the one that makes every pair of underwear I own look like I've been swimming. Layla reached over with her free hand and pulled my hood forward, stretching it out, and I watched her fingers work the skin with practiced ease. She'd learned exactly how far it would go, how much it could hold.

"Bring them together," Kylie breathed.

Layla guided Bobby's foreskin over the tip of mine. The sensation hit me immediately—his head was burning hot against my slit, and his pre-cum was already running into my hood, mixing with my own. I felt his pulse through the contact, that rapid double-beat I remembered from last time, and my own dick responded with a thick throb that pushed a glob of pre-cum out of my slit directly against his.

"Fuck," Bobby said. "I can feel you leaking into me."

"I can feel you leaking into me," I said back. "Your slit is pressed right against mine. Every time you throb, your pre-cum shoots straight into my hole. It's like my dick is drinking yours."

Layla's face was inches away, her eyes wide, her mouth open. "The skin is moving," she whispered. "I can see where your heads are pressed together inside. The foreskin is stretching—it's getting tighter every time you both throb." She leaned in and licked the junction, her tongue pushing between the layers of skin, and I felt her saliva run inside the shared hood, hot and slick. "There's already so much fluid in there," she said. "It's like a little balloon of cum."

Bobby started that deep pumping contraction—not thrusting, just flexing—and I felt the first spurt hit my slit. Hot, thick, pressurized. His cum blasted against my opening and flooded my foreskin, and I felt the skin balloon between us, stretching tight, the pressure building. "Jesus fuck," I gasped. "He's coming inside my dick again. I can feel every spurt—three, four, five—each one hotter than the last. My foreskin is so full it's pushing back into my own slit. His sperm is inside my cock."

Kylie moaned from the stool. "Push it into me. Push his cum into my pussy right now."

Bobby pulled out with that wet sucking sound, and my foreskin hung full and heavy, the skin stretched taut with his load. I could feel it sloshing inside my hood, warm and thick, and when I walked to Kylie my dick swung with the weight of it. She spread her legs wide, her pregnant belly resting on her thighs, and I pressed my foreskin against her opening. The cum poured out of my hood and into her pussy in a thick white stream, and I followed it with my shaft, pushing deep, and I felt Bobby's load coat every inch of me as I sank in.

"He's inside me," Kylie gasped. "I can feel Bobby's cum inside Peter's foreskin, rubbing against my walls. It's so hot and there's so much of it."

Rick stepped up next. His thick uncut dick was fully hard, the foreskin retracted tight behind the ridge, his head swollen dark. Layla grabbed him and pulled his hood forward with both hands, stretching the skin out. "This one's thicker," she said, examining it. "The skin is tighter. Look how the head pulls it back even when it's forward." She spat into the hood and worked it around with her thumb, then looked at me. "Pull out of Kylie and dock with Rick. I want to see if his foreskin stretches yours."

I withdrew from Kylie with a wet slurp, my shaft coated in mixed cum, my foreskin still heavy with what was left of Bobby's load. Layla guided Rick's hood over my tip, and the difference was immediate—his skin was tighter, thinner, and I could feel every ridge of his head through it. His cock was thicker than Bobby's, and my foreskin stretched to accommodate him, the skin going taut, almost painful, and then his pre-cum hit my slit and the pain became pleasure.

"Describe it," Layla said. She was on her knees now, her mouth on Bobby's half-hard dick, sucking the remaining cum from his foreskin, but her eyes were on me and Rick.

"His head is so fat it's stretching my hood to the limit," I said. "I can feel every vein on his dick through the skin—there's one big vein on top that's pulsing against my slit, and every time it throbs, his pre-cum shoots into me. His foreskin is tighter than Bobby's, thinner, so I can feel more of him. The heat is incredible. He runs even hotter than Bobby."

Rick grabbed my hips and started pumping. His contractions were deeper, slower, and each spurt was massive. The first one filled my foreskin completely—hot thick cum flooding the space between our heads, pressurizing my hood until the skin was drum-tight. The second spurt forced cum up into my slit, and I felt it—a hot injection directly into my cock, his sperm pushing past my opening and up inside me.

"He's coming inside your dick," Layla said, pulling off Bobby and watching. "I can see your foreskin swelling. It's turning red from the pressure." She leaned in and sucked the outside of the hood, her mouth working the skin, and I felt her pulling cum through the membrane with her lips. "I can taste it through the skin," she moaned. "I can taste Rick's cum through your fucking foreskin."

Rick pulled out and his cum poured from my hood in a thick white flood. Layla caught what she could in her mouth, gulping, then aimed my dick at her own chest. "On my nipples," she demanded, and I felt my foreskin contract, shooting Rick's load across her puffy pink nipples in thick ropes. She rubbed it in immediately, pinching and pulling, her tits shining with sperm.

"Now fuck me," Layla said, lying back on the counter, her legs spread. "Push all that cum into my pussy. I want to feel everyone's sperm inside me."

I pressed into her and she was so tight—virgin-tight, barely able to take my girth—and the cum from my foreskin squeezed out around my shaft as I pushed in, coating her opening, running down to her ass. "You're so fucking thick," she gasped, her eyes rolling back. "I can feel the cum from your foreskin inside me, it's so hot, there's so much." Her pussy clamped down on me, squeezing, and I felt my constant ejaculation kick in—that endless slow flood that never stops, my dick pumping pre-cum and cum in a continuous stream. "He's coming," she shrieked. "Peter's coming inside me, I can feel it, it won't stop, it just keeps pouring."

Bobby stepped up behind me and I felt his revived cock slide against my shaft where it entered Layla. He docked into my foreskin from behind, his head finding my hood, and I felt him fill me again even as I filled Layla. "I'm going to come inside your dick while you're inside her," Bobby said, and I felt his shaft pulse against mine through the shared skin.

"Everyone's cum is going to end up inside my pussy," Layla moaned. "Bobby's cum is inside Peter's dick and Peter's dick is inside me and Peter is already coming and Bobby is about to come and it's all going to end up in my fucking pussy."

Rick appeared at Layla's face, his thick uncut dick still dripping. She opened her mouth and took him, her lips wrapping around his foreskin, pulling it back with her tongue, and I watched his head emerge dark and swollen as