The Sleeping Seed

Kylie shifted her weight, feeling Peter's cock throb inside her, another hot surge of cum flooding her pussy. It leaked out around the shaft, running down his balls and pooling on the leather couch beneath them. She didn't bother stopping it. She never did.

"Tell her about the cabin," Kylie said to Layla, her voice tight with the effort of holding herself still on Peter's cock. "Tell her about that week we spent at Carol's parents' place."

Layla was still riding the second cock, her hips rolling in slow, grinding circles. Cum had been pumping into her for the last ten minutes straight, and she could feel it sloshing inside her every time she moved. Her tits bounced with each motion, Peter's semen still glistening on them from earlier, drying in thin white streaks across her puffy pink nipples.

"The cabin," Layla started, breathless. "We went up there in October. Peter fell asleep on this gross floral couch, and Kylie and I just— we couldn't help ourselves. He was wearing those same grey sweatpants and his dick was just lying there against his thigh, completely soft, this thick heavy log under the fabric. I could see the outline of the head through the foreskin. I pulled his waistband down and it just flopped out onto his stomach. Even soft it was bigger than anything I'd ever touched."

Kylie moaned, another spurt of cum filling her. She pressed her hand against her lower stomach and swore she could feel the swelling. "What did you do to it?"

"I pulled the foreskin forward first. Stretched it out, put my lips right over the tip through the skin. I could taste the pre-cum soaking through. Then Kylie came over and held the base while I peeled it back, and the head underneath was this dark shiny purple, just glistening. I put my whole mouth over it and he got hard in like three seconds. I felt it growing against my tongue, the shaft thickening until my jaw was stretched wide open. He started coming before he was even fully hard. Just these long slow pulses, and I swallowed and swallowed and he didn't wake up. He just snored."

Peter groaned from below them, his hands gripping the couch cushions. Both cocks pulsed simultaneously, and both girls gasped.

"Keep going," Kylie said. She reached down and scooped a glob of cum that had leaked out of her, then smeared it across her left breast, pinching the nipple until it stiffened. "Tell her about the tits thing. Tell her about when we rubbed them together."

Layla picked up the rhythm on her cock again, sliding up until just the head was inside her, then sinking back down. The fullness was almost unbearable—she could feel every vein, every ridge, and the constant ejaculating was making her pussy so slick that cum was dripping out of her in steady streams.

"So after we both sucked him off that first night at the cabin," Layla continued, "we had cum everywhere. On our faces, on our chests, in our hair. Kylie looked at me and just lifted her shirt. Her tits were completely covered, and I mean completely—these thick ropes of cum across both of them, pooling in the cleavage, her nipples just white. I took my shirt off and mine were the same. She grabbed me and pulled me against her, and our tits pressed together with all that cum between them."

Kylie was panting now, rolling her hips in tight circles. "Describe it. Tell her exactly what it felt like."

"It was warm and slick and our skin just slid together. My nipples pressed right into hers and I could feel how hard they were—like little nubs pushing into me. Every time we moved, the cum squished between us, this wet sliding sound. I could feel her heartbeat through her nipples. They were throbbing against mine, and mine were throbbing back. I swear I almost came just from that. We stood there in the kitchen grinding our tits together for like fifteen minutes, and then she pushed me onto the floor and got on top of me and we did it again but harder, really pressing together, and the cum was getting everywhere, on our stomachs, on our necks."

Kylie leaned back now, bracing her hands on Peter's thighs. Her tits were full and heavy, swaying as she rode him. Layla reached forward and cupped one, running her thumb across the nipple. It was thick and puffy, the areola tight and dark.

"When I drink from them," Layla said, squeezing gently, "they get even fuller. Like the sucking pulls more blood in. Her nipples get so puffy in my mouth that my lips can barely close around them. And the skin is so smooth, stretched tight, and underneath I can feel the ducts, these little channels that swell up. When Peter rubs his cock on them—when he pulls that foreskin back and pushes the bare head right onto her nipple—I've watched it. The head is so wet and hot, and it slides around on the nipple, and the ridge underneath catches and tugs. Kylie's whole body shakes every time he does it. And when he comes on them, I can see the cum pooling in the little bumps around her areola, sitting in those tiny glands, and I lick it off, every drop, and her nipple is still throbbing against my tongue."

Kylie grabbed Layla's hand and pressed it harder against her tit. "Squeeze harder. Pull it."

Layla pulled, stretching the nipple out, and Kylie let out a sharp whine. Peter's cocks both surged, a massive double ejaculation that made both girls cry out. Layla felt the flooding inside her—hot, thick, relentless—and her pussy clenched involuntarily, squeezing out a wave of cum that splattered onto the floor.

"He's filling me again," Layla gasped. "It just keeps coming. I can feel each spurt, it's like a heartbeat inside me, and every time I think he's done there's another one. My pussy is so full it's just pouring out of me."

Kylie lifted herself almost completely off Peter's cock, and a long strand of cum connected her to the head, stretching and snapping. She slammed back down and another gush forced out around the shaft, soaking his lap. "I've been getting pumped full for twenty minutes straight. I can feel it in my stomach. There's so much inside me I feel pregnant."

They turned toward each other, still impaled, and pressed their foreheads together. Kylie grabbed the back of Layla's neck and kissed her, deep and slow, their tongues sliding together. Layla could taste cum in Kylie's mouth—from earlier, from the first blowjob, lingering on her tongue. She sucked on Kylie's lower lip and felt another surge inside her pussy, another hot flood that made her whimper into the kiss.

"Tell the cabin story," Kylie murmured against her mouth. "The last night."

"Last night at the cabin," Layla said, pulling back just enough to look at her. "He fell asleep on the couch again, and we sucked him for three hours. Three hours. We took turns—one of us on the head, one of us on the shaft, switching every time he came. He came eleven times. I counted. We swallowed most of it but saved the last two loads in a glass, and then we went to the bedroom and I poured it on Kylie's pussy and licked it off. Then she poured what was left on mine and did the same. Then we scissored with the rest of it between us, our clits rubbing together in all that cum, and we both came so hard we couldn't walk right the next morning."

Kylie kissed her again, harder this time, and their tits pressed together. Both of them were slick with sweat and cum, and their nipples caught and slid against each other. Layla broke the kiss and looked down at their pressed chests, watching her puffy pink nipples grind against Kylie's darker, thicker ones.

"Every time," Layla whispered, "every time our nipples touch I feel it in my clit. Like a wire connecting them. It's so good I could cry."

Peter's hands found their hips. He pulled them both down simultaneously, burying both cocks to the root, and they screamed together as he pumped what felt like a gallon into each of them. Layla's eyes rolled back. She could feel the semen pressing against her cervix, filling every crevice, overflowing. It ran down her thighs in sheets.

Kylie grabbed Layla's face with both hands. "I want to rub our pussies together. Right now. Pull off him."

They lifted themselves free, and the cum that poured out of them was obscene—thick white streams splattering onto Peter's lap, the couch, the floor. Layla lay back on the carpet and Kylie climbed on top of her, settling between her legs. Their pussies pressed together, both gaping and swollen, and the cum that leaked from both of them mixed into a warm slick puddle between their bodies.

Kylie started moving, grinding her clit against Layla's, and the wet sounds were loud and filthy. Cum frothed between them, white and bubbling. Layla grabbed Kylie's tits and squeezed them together, then pulled her down and took a nipple in her mouth, sucking hard while their pussies slid against each other.

Peter sat on the couch watching, both cocks still rigid, still dribbling. He stroked one slowly, the foreskin sliding back and forth over the wet head, and a thin arc of cum shot out and landed across both their bodies—across Kylie's back and Layla's stomach, connecting them in a warm white strand.

"He's still going," Layla moaned around the nipple in her mouth. "He's literally always going. How does he do that?"

Kylie ground down harder, her clit pressing flat against Layla's. "I don't know and I don't care. Just keep sucking my tit and don't stop moving."

They came together, their pussies spasming against each other, cum and sweat and spit mixing into a warm mess between their bodies. Layla bit down gently on Kylie's nipple as the orgasm ripped through her, and Kylie let out a sound that was half moan, half laugh.

"Next week," Kylie breathed, collapsing on top of her, "we're doing this at the water park."

Layla pushed the hair from her face and stared at the ceiling, cum still leaking from her well-fucked pussy. "Carol's going to be pissed she missed this."

Peter, still sitting on the couch with both cocks slowly softening, shrugged. "She can catch up tomorrow. I'm not going anywhere."