GoT - Wrap After-Party Pt. 03

Maisie was breathing screams. Her eyes were screaming wide. Her reality was screaming: she couldn't believe how hard she was cumming.

Her balls tripled in size against Sophie's shoulder, then shrank, then ballooned again like a screamed breathing warning for each new blazing torrent.

The women started yielding after their third plastering. Their full-body orgasms were not helping against the high-pressure. They fell and piled up on the carpet, glazed from hair to toe.

Cumming was easier lying flat on the ground and Natalie and Julie intertwined and started scissoring, clit rubbing in semen over clit, while Sofía was unstraping her strap-on, responding to their moans with obscene encouragements. The harness fell down and she let herself fall into a 69 with Sarah. Another roar announced a fourth load was coming for them.

Sophie whimpered, 'It's too much, I can't—' and let go of the cock to finger herself. Her other arm was still pumping, burning.

Maisie's cock free to blow wherever it wanted inside Room 96, unleashed a sticky carpet-bombing over the lesbian orgy.

The semen was so pure, so potent they passed out one by one, sank into a twitching stupor, not even realising it since they were thoroughly cumming while fainting. Aggregating under layer after layer, only intermittent and weak streams of squirt were indicating they were still alive.

The eyes of Ariel and Emilia met. She was holding Rose, sitting against a wall, kissing her scalp and touching herself. They smiled. They understood. Sweetness and madness.

One day you will lick my own cum off my feet, Ariel thought very loud.

She reached down and started caressing her clitoris under her balls, in sync with Emilia, holding gaze.

Together they moaned. They increased the pace. Soon they would just be mashing their clits in a never-ending circle.

They even could cum. Their mistresses weren't looking.

And Sophie was blinded by the edge of her own orgasm anyway. All she could think about was to shield the white stream out of Maisie's cock with the palm of her hand, just enough to drink through the splash.

As soon as she dared to, her fingers went fast back to her slit, she gulped down and blurted out how hard she was cumming. She told Maisie she belonged to her. She smacked her mouth over her mouth and closed her eyes.

Now they were all cumming.

And didn't see what was coming.

Screams, moans, grunts, police sirens down the street resounded together, as one, scattering into echoes left and right, up and down. They were the intangible background for the explosive streams bursting out of Maisie's freed penis. Across the room they ascended and collided and ricocheted and covered, another layer getting rid of the last, another splatter blowing out a thick cluster into mist, all lost within the self-energising blizzard of semen.

Nothing else but cum. Just breathing made Emilia light-headed. So eventually a spurt hit, big enough to cover her and Rose. It was ineluctable now, but she was cumming too much to tell herself that, and as one spray followed the other she never knew if she passed out from cumming or being covered in semen. It didn't matter, she was next to her friend and their bound shapes became one under the blanket.

The first thing to go was the power. Maybe from the destroyed chandelier, maybe from the flooded sockets. The sun was up anyway.

The walls would take more time to succumb. Although wherever they were plasterboard, they shattered under the pressure. The debris joined the bits and splinters of furniture floating around.

Maisie managed to grab her cock. She was cumming too vastly to enjoy the destruction, to purposefully aim at a chair or a window. She only wanted to eat. She wanted to aim at herself.

Despite her clitoris sending trails of fiery pleasure up her spine and her alertness, Ariel remained lucid enough to see this threat coming. She pulled out from Maisie's arse, flexed her dick bigger than she knew possible, and slammed it back in right against that fucking prostate. The two little futa jolted. Ariel snatched the dangerous cock and stroked it, pointing away. Safely, she thought. The furiously provoked ropes of cum soared across the room. Amongst many other things, they hit the television.

The screen tumbled down the floor. Now, unbeknownst to everybody, because they could have never imagined and because they weren't paying attention—all cumming, all submitted—static electricity was brooding inside the stormy cum cloud that had devoured the atmosphere of Room 96. And it discharged right down the sparkling, fuming wrecked monitor.

They kinda saw it—all cumming, all moaning—the small lightning flash looked quite big indoors. It didn't stop the sex vocalisations, it only slowed them down, only put a question mark at the end of their screams. And after all, large drips falling from the ceiling quickly put off the inoffensive fire hazard.

But not the smoke.

Black smoke making its way up the white landscape. Its logical way up to the smoke detectors.

Everything went fast from then on. The fire alarm, the pipes vibrating inside the cracked walls, the gurgling sounds, the huge feeling of the Hilton hotel tensing still before danger.

The sprinklers went off. Gallons of water started to cascade heavily upon Room 96.

No, not water. Maisie's cum. Sophie recognized the taste.

The cum from the tank they made her fill up.

The few mouths not already opened in ecstasy shot gaping wide in horror. And the indoor rain swept them all away.

The futa drank to the brim. To the bone. They forced their way up to their feet, head up, throat voracious.

The cockring on Ariel broke in pieces that got lost under the erupting flows of the very cum it was trapping in. She came so hard she did not really ejaculate strictly speaking. She pissed out her pent up loads, she filled up the space everywhere.

Her howls dimmed down as she drank. As Maisie drank too. Despite the hands that tried to prevent them to, that tried to cover their mouths, even at the price of breaking their nose, teeth, splitting their lips or being bitten. But they drank, they absorbed cum with every hole, every pore. They shrugged Sophie easily aside and drank the air and ate the rain, as both had become the whole room, the only room.

The sprinklers dimmed down. With them the hammering noise, the smell and the taste.

The mistress backed down, helpless before the two futanari, saturated, glowing with confirmed might. They stared intently at her, with eyes that would never admit their real leaning between respect and defiance. Eyes of rulers over rulers.

At the feet of Maisie and Ariel lay the six women who had known how to submit.

For them they slowly raised their arms, palms up, in mid-air.

And the six arose from the white ground. Slowly and swiftly if there was such a thing.

At the same eerie pace they gathered at their sides and stood there silently, waited for whoever would give orders first. A long wait that would have given Emilia plenty of time to think if only she still had the point of view. Think that maybe she had been wrong about infinity. The one she thought she got at least. While she was halfway on that path she could see everything around, had the certainty that she would live everything. But she had not foreseen the real power of the futanari, invisible because so big. And maybe their infinity, the one she had awakened to, it wasn't a whole, the billion monkeys weren't there typewriting Shakespeare or the Quixote or the names of your future children and all the digits of π. Maybe it was one full of loops. Fucking over and over and over and over and.

Full of loops and of void.

If she has the time to think she could see it's a path longer but it could leave her enough room to speak maybe. Speak first? Put some mess in.

'How about a safeword?'

Perhaps she didn't say that if it's the bad ending. Or perhaps someone else did. Perhaps I just typed it and left it here.

It could have been a doubt so sweet for Emilia. But there's no way to tell now. So let's just guess they could see—out of the night, getting hard, getting wet, slave or not—that the only thing an infinity can't contain is ends. Let you decide before the inevitable drop of white if she found out it was for the best there would be none.