Just The Top

The twenty-fourth shot was no less voluminous, the damned thing sprayed out of his cock, somehow diverted to go wide, beads of his prick paste hanging in the air like silvery dew-drops, then they were hitting me everywhere, I felt simultaneous little splashes to my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my neck, all over my tits. For a moment it was like I was bedecked in glimmering pearls before the big bastard of a dick washed them all out, raining a much thicker single stream down my face and across my tits, if shot twenty-four had been diffuse, then shot twenty-five was laser-like stream that seemed almost as hot.

I wiped another eyeful of cum from my left socket and coughed out a little mouthful that had somehow made it into the tight seal of my lips, I was unrecognizable in the mirror at this point, a monster-made of glistening sperm, accented by tiny peeks of tanned flesh and streaks of ruined mascara. Looking in the mirror I was treated to the sight of a twenty-sixth ball-batter-bomb blasting right into the side of my head, it flowed up like a catcher's mitt wrapping around the dome of my skull, flowing down my hair in nasty rivulets, matting it, making my previously perfect locks into a mockery of the feminine, clumped and tangled in thick patches of pearl.

"PUT IT ON MY TITS, STUD!" I cried, hefting my slippery pair, almost having trouble keeping a grip on them for all the cum-slickness that coated my heavy boobs. A tight finger-and-thumb clamping my nipples helped to keep them steady as he complied with my polite request, groaning in obvious bliss as his cock spurted out a twenty-seventh salvo all across my tit tops, the flat angle I was giving allowed it to pool there, a several-inch-deep lake of cum was now trapped between my tits. I looked up at him, hoping my expression of amazement at just how studly my super-hung husband was somehow getting through the thick white mask he'd left on my face.

I think he could tell, even his groaning 'O'-face looked smug as he re-aimed and drilled his prickhead into the sperm lack, displacing a little of it at first with his enormous cockhead. Then, it went off as a twenty-eighth cum-crate got unloaded between my udders, the lake briefly became a geyser, squirting streams springing upwards to nail my chin and neck and even my shoulders, stranding webs of thick gunt dripping in all directions. The bulk The little lake massively overflowed then, curling down my tits in a pair of big cream waterfalls, cascading around my huge nipples like rocks in a stream, making there way down to my thighs in thick webby ropes. Grinning, he pulled my tits apart, letting the rest of the lake finally follow, landing between my legs with an audible splat; he wasn't even penetrating me yet the sheer volume made me think I might be at serious risk of getting knocked up again. Still, the heat of his cum felt amazing on my clit; though I was either too stunned to climax, or possibly just too stunned to realize that I already had. I'll never know.

His next shot took my left tit-head on (or head-to-nipple I suppose,) this biggest-yet wad of cream burst around the entire breast, a feat that most men would have found impossible in a month's worth of climaxes, he thickly glazed it so finely that I could almost see my face in my own boob. The wad was pouring from his cock for as long as fifteen second, the single stream just utterly soaking my poor breast. He followed this up with a thirtieth almost identical shot to the other breast, it went a little longer and soaked it a little more, but the end result was an evenly-coated tit. My breasts now looked like a pair finally frosted cakes. I could resist and ran a finger across the top of my right breast, scooping a gooey wad of it into my mouth; I was so full but it still tasted so good.

"You've ruined perfect, now I have to start all over!" Eric jokingly chided, blasting a thirty-first shot right back onto the tit he'd just painted, totally washing away and filling in the streak my finger had left. I was aware of how gooey my tits had become, literally dripping seed off in possibly as many as a hundred different places.

His thirty-second blast nailed the undersides of both boobs, making them jiggle and bounce just from the impact of his cream, the spray of his orgasm resembling an uncapped fire hydrant. I was amazed at how different layers of still-liquid cum slid across each other, rippling effects that accompanied the rippling of my flesh, thick white sheets sloughing off spatters my thighs.

He fired a thirty-third shot with the zeal of a chef, moving his cock back and forth like it were less organ and more tool for spraying his spunk, adorning me, decorating me, the drizzling rope of cum moving around the edges of my breasts, then across them in a pair of diagonal streaks making an "X". But the end result wasn't visible, there was so much spooge caked on my chest at this point that it just sort of melted into the whole, like a sauce.

I looked up at him in utter astonishment, confusion, and yes, still arousal, what other man than my own could so seed the world? The amount of cum he'd shot this night could have knocked up the whole of a city, perhaps the whole of the world. I don't know if he didn't like that expression on my face or was trying to reward it but he aimed up again, I could almost feel it hitting before I saw it, thudding drops of hot sperm fresh from the giant dick, flying through the air before striking into me, the stream so large this time that it closed both eyes, clogged my nostrils, sealed my lips, slid down my cheeks in thick sheets and clung to my badly matted bangs. It was like I'd never really had a facial before, that every other sperm bomb I'd taken before was just practice.

The thirty-fifth shot was the same, I opened my mouth to get some breath and had to just hold it a bit longer as more drops hit my eyes, cheeks, forehead, nose and now directly into my open mouth, I gargled a bit but didn't choke, showed him that yes goddamnit, I might be buried under literal barrels of his hot and heavy ball-batter, but I was still woman enough for him, still worthy to be his fucking wife. I defiantly blew bubbles for him before breathing in deep between the endless blasts of gondad-gruel.

Showing my defiance I grabbed his cock and jerked it off with him, milking out a thirty-sixth shot into my open mouth. No way I could swallow these pint-fulls in one gulp, but I gave it my best effort, not caring how the rest splattered against my teeth and lips and drooled around my chin into big gooey drops that pelted my still-caked tits. Even though I was already so full there was something comforting about the thick mouthful sliding hot down my throat, like that second helping of comfort food that you shouldn't have but makes you feel whole, my own spunk casserole.

Shot thirty-seven was an obscenity; I couldn't possibly swallow another drop and I'd backed off a bit to regroup. This wad could have filled a wine bottle in its single, high-velocity launch, but it wasn't aimed at a wine bottle, it happened to be resting just at my temple and it concussed off my head with such force that I was actually knocked sideways, surprised and stunned, not hurt of course, but just so shocked. While some of it clung where it hit, the rest of that insane shifting volume of viscous, virile fluid ricocheting back and up, hanging in the air a moment like a tossed pizza dough, then it all fell, raining down on me with an audible splash, making me laugh a little, the way being caught in an unexpected rain can make you do.

My heart leapt as he re-aimed and put shot thirty-eight on a giant tan (well formerly tan, totally white with spunk now,) tit, it was noticeably slower, smaller, he was finally tapering off a bit. I rubbed the spermy mess into my boob and moaned for him, showing him his spunk's power to entrance me, massaging myself then licking my fingers clean.

Another shot, weaker still went to my other tit, giving me more to massage, more to lick, more to enjoy of his incredible potence. I admired the way the load drooled down in a wad as thick as a grape and long as a piece of paper; still more cum than most men could make in several climaxes. Much more.

He groaned appreciatively and jerked harder as he drizzled out a fourtieth and final (still insanely huge!) shot onto my other tit, his humongous cock still looking for all the world like a battering ram that I wanted banged against all my doors for the rest of my life.

I couldn't help myself and just had to kiss the head of the monster that had filled me and painted me and made me cum so well, I would adore it forever and wanted to show my appreciation.

It showed me right back, a forty-first shot as big as the biggest yet hosing into my face like a spooge spraying super-soaker, it was such a long plume it took at least ten seconds to even finish the one unbreaking rope, it slowly hosed across my forehead, then down across both eyes, then zig-zagging again across my nose, then again along my upper lip, again along my lower lip, then up against my mouth for the rest of it, Eric's groan with this was as long and loud as the splattering against my face.

I had barely wiped the spunk from my eyes before it was going off again, another shot to my left tit, re-painting as white as it had been before my massaging fingers had alleviated some of that, then another to the right, tan once again turning pearl, flesh rippling, the thick sheets sliding down my ribs in a hot tickle of liquid.

He chased that last trail, raining another shot all the way down my thigh, then another back up it, fully coating the thickest part of my right leg He repeated this feat on the left, four new loads (putting us at what, forty-six? Jesus christ!)

He was not done yet, those gigantic balls, still-heavy looking if somewhat alleviated continued to buck and bounce in their bulging bag as he streaked another line of glaze that coated my shin and streamed down my calf, another for my foot, another for the other foot, another for the other shin. Now even from the waist down I was totally coated, the evidence of fifty shots of cum in evidence.

But he was a hard worker, a perfectionist, and nothing if not thorough, no job for him was ever done until he had at least two coats and he gave my feet, shins, and thighs eight more long shots, capping it off with a couple more to each knee, making sure his essence had totally covered every part of me.

He went back up for shot sixty-one on, cum-punching my tits with his bottomless wads, shot after concussive shots rippling my flesh, bouncing my boobs, covering my gargantuan girls with ball-gravy over and over. I had heard so much cumming tonight my ears were beginning to develop a connoisseurship for what each individual blast sounded like.

SPLUT! SPLATALORT! SQUIRK! SPLUQUIRT! SPSHH! SPEET! SKWAK! SQUIRP! SKUPUH! SPLUSKWAAT! SKWIRPKA! SPLUCK! SPLAT! SPLORK! SPLUT! SPIK! SQUIP! SQUOOM! SPWIRK! SPWUCK!

The effect was extraordinary, my body (especially my tits) now buried under eighty-one shots of cream, my tits weren't even really tits anymore, just a shelf of cum, my cleavage totally filled in with his fuck-filth, the puddle on my stomach so deep I almost looked pregnant again (though being full of so much from earlier was adding to that effect) I caught my reflection in the mirrored ceiling, laughing that I looked almost like a chalk outline at a homicide scene where the murder weapon was my husband's cock.

Finally the cum killer moved on from my tits, aiming his cream-canon back at my face, the first giant wad totally blinded me and I simply had to time my breaths between shots, unable to swallow, not bothering to wipe any off since I'd given up hope that this years-built-up orgasm would ever stop. Seeming to look for bits of skin he hadn't covered yet the next pair of shots seemed deliberately aimed for my ears, covering them, plugging them up with spunk. Now I was sense-deprived, body so plastered in spunk that I could feel little.

The effect was a little bit like being underwater, sound traveling in a way that was at once more penetrating yet less distinct. All I could take in was the next giant sperm bomb that got shot directly into my face in a series of dull thuds.

THUD

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He'd actually already fired many more of those shots at my tits, (though how he could find them under all the sperm I could no longer say) and it took me several of them to figure that out since I was so caked in icing.

Then, just as abruptly as it had all started, there was one final THUD and it was over.

I waited, I wasn't going to rush headlong into assuming he was done again, still not believing the assault could be over.

But a couple of minutes passed and I finally gout the courage to wipe the pints of cum that had pooled on my eyes and look around.

OH MY GOD! Well, I know knew exactly what two-hundred and sixty-seven cum blasts the size of a fist looked like when all sprayed into a hotel room.

Like a disaster area.

Like the remnants of a flood.

Like a hair-conditioner factory explosion.

"We're going to leave a monstrous tip for the hotel's cleaning staff aren't we?"

I whimpered, standing as cum splattered and drained from my body. Eric was leaning against the bed with a weak smile on his face, his balls back to their usual (though still enormous) size, finally emptied of all that buildup.

"No kidding." He moved to hug me, not caring how he messed himself up with himself, we both knew we were heading to a shower shortly. We walked together through the squishy carpet towards the bathroom. He stopped, nudging something with his foot, it was my discarded skirt, now completely ruined by cum, it would never be wearable again.

"Oh shit, Tessa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to destroy your clothes!"

I patted him and shook my head, "No, I didn't care about most of it, I won't need to replace most of it.

"Okay," he said, wanting to help. "Which part?"

I shrugged, cum-covered tits jiggling madly in response, swaying around tauntingly underneath the endless layers of glazing,

"Oh, just the top."