The Swim Team Ch. 02

Her moans became clamorous hyperventilation, then what happened shut her up: pleasure exploded in her, stunning, complete really.

She let out a yelp, immediately superseded by a long open-mouthed cry. To yet again get shut up when her cock clenched and the first spurt of boiling hot cum came out so large it dilated her urethra open. It hit the surface of the mirror violently and went on and on, rubbing the walls of her cumhole like thick licks, draining her balls, deflating them. It lasted so long she groaned with relief when her Kegel muscles finally relented; only to flex again for a new gush.

A second rope surged and soared, then a third, both disappointingly smaller--anyone else would have said normal. By the fourth she was close to screaming. They piled on the thick layer of cum that had completely obscured the mirror.

Then no more, only dry spasms, only trickles down her fingers.

On some occasions, when Gabrielle had found the willpower to study her minute of climax as it happened, she had counted and had worked out an average of ten hard-hitting seconds of a deluge of pleasure before the start of her ejaculation, which had an average of forty contractions. Jerking languidly, she collapsed sensually on the tiled floor, thinking about what forty streaks of cum would look like.

She would have to be patient. Dr. Emmerson told her it would take months for her to get to full capacity. Gabrielle had shot everything she got for now. Her orgasm went on, as powerful as ever. All she had to do was enjoying and listening to herself grunt and pant.

It lasted for longer than a minute but she had no way to know it as her body was melting into the afterglow.

She fondled her ballsack. It was back to its familiar size.

With no plan of what she could try now, she said, "Two," her hand already back to stroking.

Playfully forced moans gave her some inspiration. Then her new idea itself made her purr. She enjoyed this delightful vicious circle, hand going fast and tight, until another orgasm assailed her. As fast as possible, she lay on her back, threw her legs in the air, but not fast enough: the first jet flew across the bathroom and landed somewhere in a loud splat that made her swoon. Semen ravished all senses, even hearing.

Her legs up, her face was ready for the rest of her load.

That's what she wanted. A fucking facial.

Warm strands hit her skin, one time, then two, three, four, five, six... each time a little messier. She had to open her mouth in an irresistible gasp of satisfaction somewhere around the second or third burning slap on her face and didn't mind if it meant some of the delicious juice fell right inside of it. Didn't mind at all.

Her cock stopped ejaculating before her tongue was fully satisfied. She let go of it without a care.

If the supernaturally-endowed girl was now somewhat used to be drunk on otherworldly pleasure--her mind diluting in a moist ecstasy as her body was arching and squirming--this was yet another thing new to her: she was playing for the first time, exploring and exploiting the unlimited interactions of her body and her cum, creating colors and shapes of bliss on the canvas of her overwhelmed brain.

She swallowed her load with greedy gulps and resisted the temptation to scoop up the rest off her head.

Her cock finishing dry-cumming in the air, she crawled to the mirror and wiped the layer of white goo off of it to get a look at herself.

The six ropes of cum had painted her face so perfectly, streaking across from her hairline to her chin, dangling from her nose, dripping down her neck. The phrase that instinctively came out of her sperm-coated mouth would stay in her memory for the rest of her life:

"I look like a slut."

That last word she had never uttered before. And she could not think of a better one.

The first time Gabrielle saw a facial ejaculation in a porn video, she found it confusing, if not just disgusting. But then the actress whimpered, "I'm a slut!" in a submissive tone and suddenly everything made sense.

It was not a slur, it was a title. And semen was its most evident costume. Wearing this sweetest, most magnificent substance on the first and only icon of your being--your face--meant much, much more than just enjoying the feeling of it spurting on your skin. Gabrielle saw beauty in it, where idiots could only see power. From there she understood receiving a load anywhere on her body would be pride and joy. Because it made sense. Tits, butt, feet, in the palm of her hands, over her own cock why not, weirder places like her armpits, or as simple as just on her thighs, on her tummy, anywhere really. And then inside her...

For now her own first facial would be the most beautiful she would masturbate to, as she sat on her heels and announced, "Three," staring at her reflection.

Gently possessed by the heat building up inside her, stroke after stroke, a first time went unnoticed: Gabrielle was looking at something else than her genitals. Looking at her slut face full of cum, at her tongue picking at it, her eyes staring back in the mirror.

In the flow of her thoughts, she got reminded of her surprising premature ejaculation from earlier. Unlike men, she wasn't too preoccupied by it because she knew she could cum as much as she wanted and still be hard for more. The idea that she could lose control like this was pulse-raising actually. She had an arousing vision of herself cumming hands-free just by thinking a little too hard about

(Saoirse Ronan)

about Ryan Gosling.

The real mystery was why now, when she always had stamina so far?

She replayed the scene in her head: her balls were swollen to the size of grapefruits hanging heavy between her thighs; the sperm she could not release the night before had churned in a pulsing growl. When she had squeezed them, it had felt like thick sponges full of juices. Then pleasure sparked from within her sack instead of the root of her penis. That was it. The little detail.

Gabrielle slowed down her third masturbation to verify: she pinched one of her testicles.

"Ouch!"

The infamous twinge had responded straight out. But lurking behind that flash of deep pain, she had felt physical pleasure. Not as intense as earlier when her balls were twice as big, but unmistakable.

It was new. And weird.

She patted them carefully, just to be sure. Then harder, massaging them like an aching muscle, still stroking her cock with the other hand.

It was undeniable, her balls were sending their own heat to the warming orgasm she was working on and at the same time keeping some for themselves.

She massaged on, testing her discovery, until the sensation faded away, as well as her patience.

She let her dick suck out all the heat for itself and eventually:

"HhAAaaa aaah AAAAH!" A third ejaculation blasted Gabrielle's O-face in the mirror.

And because soon she couldn't see it anymore, she rose to her knees and, letting go of her dick, letting it splatter her neck, the floor, or anywhere it wanted for all she cared, she gripped the mirror with both hands and ravenously lapped up the warm load on the cold surface. When she was done, she could contemplate her facialized face again.

Still only halfway through her orgasm.

"I need another shower," she said in a quivering voice. And a few steps later, "Four," dulled by the stream of hot water.