Friendsgiving Blizzard

The three of them stepped away from the bed; Thomas extended a hand to help me to the floor. I kicked away my heels as I knelt, my back to the bedframe with them in a semi-circle surrounding me. Wheezing as I caught my breath, I looked up at the towering trio, each stroking their cock almost in lockstep. I crossed my arms beneath my breasts, propping them into a plumped shelf of a target.

A strong gust of wind surged against the windowpanes, rattling the frames, and spraying the glass with clinking crystals of ice and snow. I turned toward the windows at the sudden noise. As I distractedly looked away, Thomas unleashed a volley of spunk into my temple, cheek, and ear. Startled, I spun back to face him, right as his dick blasted a second geyser of thick cum directly onto my chin and lips. My mouth dropped partway open as I flinched and recoiled, and another gooey rope sailed between my ruby lips and down my gullet. Malcolm gently closed my jaws with fingers beneath my chin, noting I "shouldn't spoil my appetite before dinner."

Standing directly in front of me, Anthony cranked off a sticky burst that doused my forehead and eyebrows. Malcolm's cock fired a shotgun spray of skeet that speckled my cheek and chin, and another that spattered across my neck and tits. As Thomas's seed dripped from my chin and splattered on my mounds, he frosted my freckled bust with dripping lines of jism. Cum dribbled off my face, splashing over my heaving breasts and trickling down my belly into the rolled navy wool of my skirt.

Anthony leaned his cock toward my face, and I obediently closed my lids as he "dotted" my eyes, adding an extra dash of jizz across the bridge of my nose. With my eyes caked shut with cum, I guessed it was Malcolm whose loads lashed twice across my face, from my eyebrows into my bangs in two lines that intersected in a lopsided "X" that marked the spot on my forehead. Two last stitches of spunk crossed my pouting lips, breaking as I opened my mouth to suck in a gasping breath.

I scooped cum out of my sockets with my fingertips, then blinked away clotted sperm from my lashes. Around me, my guests ambled in post-coital indecision, sorting out their disordered clothes from the floor. Looking down my tits were coated in interwoven squiggly cords of splooge. The wool of my skirt was peppered with tacky white polka dots. A stalactite of cum stretched then broke and fell from my chin, splattering on my red-painted toes. I felt the weight of the braided ropes of seed that glazed my face. Squinting uncertainly at the clock on the nightstand, I couldn't read the time but suddenly remembered the in-process meal.

"Oh shit! My turkey!" I leaped to my feet and rushed through the apartment to the kitchen, wriggling out of the cum-stained wool skirt and kicking it away down the hall as I ran. I breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the kitchen timer read almost two hours remaining. I shoved my hands into oven mitts and opened the oven door; the scorching air broiled my naked body. I squatted and pulled the rack forward until the roasting pan was clear of the blistering metal sides, then removed the tented foil from the bird to allow the skin to brown for the duration. As I crouched before the open oven, I felt the heat sear my skin, caramelizing the crisscrossing ropes of viscous cum on my face and tits. I shut the oven and stood, finding that the guys had returned to the living room, mostly dressed, still gawking at my naked, cum-glazed visage.

"This year, I know what I'm thankful for!" Thomas whistled as he tucked in his shirt.

"You can put away the browning torch, Sarah. That 'cum brûlée' looks like it's just about done!" Malcolm joked as he collapsed, laughing and shoeless, onto the couch. The rest of the guests burst into raucous laughter. I smirked, tossed the mitts on the counter, and gave them all a kindly double-bird as I returned to my room.

The portrait on the dresser greeted me as I entered the room. I stared at it for a second, then walked to the closet and took one of John's shirts off the hanger. The thick cum soaked into the white cotton as I mopped my face and tits, then balled up the button down and tossed it in the hamper.

Rummaging through the dresser, I hunted for comfortable pants and a top; I didn't see the point of formal dress when each of my guests had already been inside of me. We could pass the rest of the afternoon with traditional Thanksgiving activities: football, wine, feasting, and, of course, seconds. The last word stuck in my mind, and a naughty smile spread across my lips as I said it aloud. "Seconds..."

I shut the drawer and returned to the closet, stooping to reach the low, 'special' chest. From the living room, I heard the trio cheering in response to a play. Wine glasses clinked against a bottle, and plates scraped as they were picked up and replaced on the coffee table. Blushing as I imagined their imminent surprise, I selected a suitable piece, then grabbed a glistening pair of glossy black high heels from a nearby shelf.

Holding out the black mesh teddy, I stepped into the skimpy garment, feeling the black lace edges tickle along my prickling, excited skin. The translucent, tight black material silhouetted the puffy lips of my pussy. The lace-edged mesh wedges of the camisole-top tapered up my chest into black ribbons that tied behind my neck in a halter and left my pale back bare down to the waist. The stretchy, triangular front panels only just covered my ripe tits, and the sheer mesh flaunted a hint of the light pink nipple beneath. Between my breasts, black lace trim lined a daringly deep "V" that ended below my bellybutton with a delicate red bow. Stepping into the high pumps, I turned in front of the mirror admiring how the arc of my round breasts peeked out around the scalloped lace edges of the cami-top. I reached back, untwisted the black lace strip of a waistband in the back and centered the heart-shaped keyhole over my buttocks.

Tucking my auburn hair behind my ear, I spied a stray spike of half-dried cum dangling from my lobe. I plucked it with my finger, then sucked the digit clean. I beamed at my racy reflection, blew a kiss to the picture on the dresser, then slowly, quietly walked down the hall to the living room.

My three guests were intently watching the end of the afternoon game. Outside the blizzard continued to rage; cyclones of snow whirled past the window. I stood silently for a moment; my stomach jittered nervously, then I gently cleared my throat.

"Ahem. You know as long as we're observing Thanksgiving traditions..." Their eyes turned toward my voice and widened as they absorbed my lingerie-clad body. "... who's up for seconds?"