Cum is always the answer

(Introducing CumMaxx - the pill which will allow you to ejaculate a liter of cum on your faithful wife and ensure that your dick never goes limp)

It wasn’t just the bedroom anymore.

Sandra had changed — subtly, completely — and Andy saw it everywhere.

She dressed differently now. Even on weekdays.

At home, bras had vanished. Replaced by thin cotton camisoles that clung to her breasts and showed everything when the ceiling fan stirred the fabric. Her shorts were shorter. Her movements looser. She no longer rushed to cover herself when someone rang the bell.

When she bent over, she knew what it looked like.

And she didn’t adjust.

Outside, her college sarees hugged her hips tighter. Her blouses were still proper, but they seemed to strain a bit more across her chest — a deliberate tightness. She left the top hook undone most days.

Her makeup had changed too.

She now wore dark eyeliner — just enough to frame her eyes with a shadowed softness. A thin streak of kajal that made her lashes look longer. Her lipstick had shifted from dull pinks to deeper shades: wine, brick, sometimes even dark cherry. Glossy.

Her hair was never tied up anymore.

She let it fall — thick and black and sensual — brushing against her breasts and back like a veil she forgot she was wearing.

At college, she walked slower. Her heels clicked across tiled floors with a quiet rhythm that turned heads. She smiled more — not flirtatious, just open. Her presence had weight. Heat.

________________________________________

At night, when Andy was asleep, Sandra started watching videos on her own.

She returned to the “Cody Lane” folder.

Then she found more.

“Cum Dump Bukkake.”

“Facial Fuckdolls.”

“College Cumsluts Vol 7.”

“Training a Cum Queen.”

The thumbnails didn’t shock her anymore.

They intrigued her.

Thirty, forty men. Women on their knees. Faces glazed. Tits streaked. Mouths wide. Begging for it.

She touched herself while watching them.

Not fast. Not frantic.

Slow.

She imagined herself on her knees — a circle of strangers stroking over her, moaning her name.

She saw herself in her mind — bare, flushed, eyeliner smudged down her cheeks, lips parted, tongue out. Her favorite gold necklace — the delicate one with the tiny pendant Andy gave her — rested against her collarbone, now streaked with cum like everything else.

Thick strands coated her hair, her tits, her face. It dripped from her lashes, clung to her lips, trailed down her chest in slow, glistening rivers.

Her eyes in the fantasy were dazed but proud — like she belonged there. Owned it. Deserved every drop.

And beneath the mess, she looked beautiful.

She imagined Andy watching.

Andy blinked awake to soft, wet sounds.

Sandra was sitting at the foot of the bed, completely naked except for her glasses and a faint shimmer of sweat. Her thighs were parted. The laptop sat open in front of her, bathing her skin in flickering light.

The video played without shame.

A bukkake scene — a woman kneeling, mascara streaked, tongue out, grinning as she was painted over and over in hot ropes of cum.

Sandra’s eyes were fixed on it, fingers slowly teasing between her folds.

Andy stayed quiet. Just watching.

Then he reached for the CumMaxx capsule, dry-swallowed it, and cleared his throat.

“Enjoying the research?”

Sandra didn’t jump. Didn’t pause.

She just glanced back, a slow smile curling on her lips.

“Mmm. I was just wondering why you never showed me this before…”

She crawled toward him — naked, wet, radiant — until her face was at his thigh.

“All those years… you had this in your head…”

She leaned in and licked the length of his shaft, slow and possessive.

“You could’ve told me,” she murmured. “I would’ve loved tasting this every night.”

Andy groaned as her tongue circled the tip.

“Sandra…”

She looked up with a spark in her eyes, stroking his balls gently.

“You taste incredible, baby… like heat and salt and power. I love this flavor.”

“I could live on it.”

She sucked the tip into her mouth, just the head, then popped it free with a soft wet sound.

“That girl in the video? With ten guys painting her? I get it now.”

“It’s not just dirty. It’s devotional.”

Her fingers stroked his shaft slowly while she kissed his balls.

“Cum is so personal,” she whispered. “And you’ve been wasting it in tissues all these years?”

Andy laughed through a moan.

“I didn’t know you'd want it.”

She licked a stripe up his length, from base to tip, and looked him straight in the eye.

“I crave it.”

She slipped him back into her mouth — deeper this time — and moaned around him as the porn played on.

Onscreen, the woman was already glazed — eyes wide, open mouth filling again.

Sandra pulled back, jerking him slowly.

“You ever wanted to do this to me?” she asked.

Andy’s voice was hoarse.

“Every fucking day.”

She grinned and went back to sucking — slower now, sensually, almost lovingly. One hand teased his balls, the other pressed against her own soaked slit.

“Then get ready,” she whispered between licks. “Because I want to see how much this CumMaxx stuff can really give me.”

Sandra was stroking him with both hands now — twisting slowly at the base while her lips bobbed wetly around his cockhead. Her spit made everything shine.

She moaned around him, deep in her throat, while her eyes flicked between his face… and the screen.

“Look at that one,” she whispered, pulling back and pointing at the video.

“Her whole face is white. Her makeup’s ruined.

And she’s still begging for more…”

She kissed the tip.

“I want to be like that.”

Andy froze. She wasn’t just imitating what he liked — she was becoming it.

Andy’s breath hitched. The CumMaxx had kicked in fully — his cock felt swollen, hot, and insanely full.

“Fuck, baby—this pill—I'm gonna cum so much…”

Sandra grinned. “Good.”

She wrapped her lips around him again, took him deep, then deeper — until her nose was pressed into his skin, her throat bulging slightly.

She held there.

Sucking. Swallowing. Moaning.

Her fingers massaged his balls, feeling how heavy they were. She knew what was coming.

Andy gripped her hair.

“I’m gonna cum… holy fuck, I’m gonna—!”

Sandra pulled back just in time — mouth open, tongue out, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Give it to me. Paint me. Feed me.”

His orgasm hit like a shotgun.

The first jet slammed across her cheek and eye. The second into her mouth. The third — thick, heavy — splashed her nose and dripped down her chin.

And it didn’t stop.

He kept pulsing, his cock jerking wildly in his hand as he finished on her again… and again… and again.

Her tits were streaked. Her lips were glossy. Her throat moved as she swallowed some, smeared the rest across her face with both hands.

“Fuck, Andy…” she whispered, breathless. “That was insane.”

She looked down — still wet, still dripping.

Then looked up again — smirking.

“Is it bad that I want more already?”

Andy didn’t wait for her to wipe her face.

He grabbed her hand and led her toward the bedroom mirror — the tall one near her vanity — and turned her to face it.

Sandra blinked at her own reflection.

Her face was streaked with thick white lines. Her cheeks, lips, chin — all smeared. Her tits glistened. A pearl of cum hung from one nipple. Her eyes looked glassy, half-drunk on lust.

She smiled.

“I look like a fucking cumrag.”

“No,” Andy whispered behind her, lining up his cock against her soaked pussy.

“You look like my fantasy.”

He rammed into her.

She cried out — the sound raw, greedy — as her hips slapped against the dresser.

“God yes—fuck me just like that—” she gasped.

“Make me watch myself while you ruin me…”

He pounded her from behind, watching her tits bounce, cum streaking across her belly.

“Look at yourself,” he growled. “Fucking look at how beautiful you are, covered in my cum.”

“I love it,” she moaned. “I want to see this. I want to be your dirty reflection.”

She pressed her palms to the mirror as he slammed into her harder, deeper.

“Ram me, baby—fill me again. I want to drip…”

He came inside her — hard, fast — burying himself as deep as he could while she clenched around him.

Her body trembled, and she gasped through a shattering orgasm of her own.

But Andy didn’t soften.

The CumMaxx had him still rock-hard.

“Again,” he said, pulling her back upright.

“Fuck yes,” she grinned. “Let’s see how much more I can take.”

He laid her flat on the bed this time and spread her wide, taking his time, thrusting deep and fast, their sweat mixing with smeared cum as she wrapped her legs around him and begged for more.

Her body was a masterpiece of ruin — thighs slick and trembling, her inner lips swollen and flushed from being stretched and filled. Cum clung to the curve of her breasts, smeared along her stomach, a sticky sheen glistening in the low light.

Her hair fanned across the pillow in wild tangles, strands stuck to her cheek. Her mascara had bled down her face in soft streaks, lips puffy and spit-slick, parted with breathless whimpers.

The necklace she still wore shifted against her skin with every thrust — delicate, gold, completely out of place on a woman this thoroughly fucked.

And yet… she looked divine.

When he finally pulled out — again leaking thick into her sore, gaping pussy — she moaned with satisfaction.

“Still hard?” she asked, voice teasing, wrecked.

“Still ready,” he answered, stroking himself.

He scooped his own cum from her slit with his fingers — thick, warm, plentiful — and smeared it across his shaft.

“Turn around,” he growled. “I want to see this ass take my cock.”

Sandra froze for half a second — not from fear, but from the heat that rolled through her gut at those words.

He wants my ass.

The thought should’ve embarrassed her. A week ago, it might have. But now? Now it made her pussy clench.

She’d seen it in the porn he watched — the way the girls moaned when their holes stretched, when they were claimed completely. She remembered the suggestion he whispered in her sleep days ago:

“Letting him take you everywhere proves you’re his.”

And now he wanted it. Her last untouched hole.

She turned around slowly, heart pounding, face flushed.

She did — without hesitation — face down, ass raised, cheeks already parted.

“You want this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I want it in my ass. I want all of you. Make it messy.”

He pressed against her tight ring, slow, careful — then pushed in.

She gasped — then exhaled long and low.

“Yes… fuck… stretch me, Andy. Fill my ass with your cock.”

He moved slowly at first, letting her adjust, but when she started to moan — really moan — he picked up the pace.

Her body trembled under him.

“You’re in me,” she panted. “Your cock… your cum… your fucking obsession.”

“You’re mine baby… every drop makes you sexier. Feel it changing you.” he growled.

And they climaxed together — his cock buried to the base in her ass, her pussy twitching and leaking everything he’d already left behind.

Andy hovered over her, breathless, staring down at the mess they’d made — at the woman he’d created.

Sandra looked like sin made flesh.

Face pressed into the sheets, lips swollen and parted, her cheek streaked with dried spit and tears. Her back arched, ass raised, his cock still deep in her other hole. Her thighs glistened with slick and sweat, her pussy twitching, still dripping from the load he’d pumped into her earlier.

Her gold necklace stuck to the curve of her throat, catching the light like a collar.

She wasn’t just fucked.

She was possessed.

Marked from the inside out — by him.

And she looked perfect.

They lay tangled together on the bed.

Andy was still inside her — slowly softening, her ass clenching around him like she didn’t want to let go.

Andy pulled out slowly, his cock dragging free from her stretched, dripping ass with a slick, obscene sound. Cum clung to him, smeared across his shaft, glistening in the low light.

Sandra collapsed onto her elbows, breath ragged, cheeks flushed, her body still twitching.

Andy dipped two fingers between her thighs — scooping up the messy mix of slick, ass cream, and his own load — then brought them to her lips.

“Open,” he ordered.

Sandra’s eyes lit up.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

Her tongue darted out before his fingers even touched her mouth. She sucked them in hungrily — moaning, cheeks hollowing, licking between them as if she couldn’t get enough.

“God, I love this,” she gasped around his hand. “Tasting it. Tasting us. I want more…”

Andy grinned, stepping closer, his cock still coated in the wreckage.

“You’re not done.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, almost pleading.

“Can I lick it?” she asked. “Please, Andy… let me clean your cock. Let me taste your cum right from your dick.”

He didn’t say a word — just nodded once.

She dropped to her knees with reverence.

Gripping the base, she leaned in and dragged her tongue along the underside — moaning at the taste. Her lips wrapped around the head, and she began to suck slowly, lovingly, licking up the streaks of cum and spit and filth like it was her favorite treat.

“You’re perfect,” Andy growled. “My filthy little cumdrunk wife.”

She pulled back just long enough to pant:

“I want to be. Let me prove it. Every drop. Every inch. I’ll clean it all…”

And she did —, shamelessly, like she was born to it.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

They just breathed.

Eventually, Andy brushed her hair back and kissed her cheek.

“Are you okay?”

Sandra nodded, slow.

“More than okay.”

“You took everything. Twice.”

“Even your ass.”

She smiled, voice husky.

“I wanted it.”

Andy looked at her — streaked, dripping, glowing — and realized this wasn’t a fantasy anymore. This was her. Willing. Wet. Worshipful.

“Why now?”

She rolled to her side, still facing him, her legs gently shifting to keep the mess between her thighs warm.

“Because I’m tired of pretending I’m someone else.”

“Because it feels good to give in to the things that make you wild.”

“And because…” she licked her lips. “I like it.”

Andy stared at her, heart pounding.

She continued, whispering:

“The way you look at me when I’m covered in it... when I’m used... when I let go completely…”

“It makes me feel beautiful. Needed. Worshipped.”

Her hand drifted down his chest, slowly circling his softening cock.

“And the way your cum feels on my skin — warm, sticky, dripping…”

She bit her lip.

“It doesn’t feel gross anymore. It feels... like love.”

Andy’s throat was dry.

“What are you saying?”

She looked him straight in the eyes.

“I want to feel it again.”

“On my face. Then my tits. Then my thighs.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Drench me.”

After Sandra’s request — soft, raw, sincere — Andy kissed her forehead.

If only his conservative relatives back in Edison could see what his quiet Indian wife had become.

She lay back, eyes closed, smiling faintly, still glowing from everything they’d done.

He pulled the blanket over her hips and slipped out of bed quietly.

Walked to his laptop.

Opened the mic.

And whispered into her transformation once more.

“My cum is therapeutic.”

“It will make you gorgeous… stunning… radiant.”

“It will remove all your blemishes. Every mole. Every imperfection.”

“It will soften your skin. Whiten it… brighten it… make it glow like silk.”

“It will mold your body into your deepest desire.”

“Every drop transforms you.”

“You’ll crave it more because it makes you more beautiful.”

“You’ll wear it proudly — because it changes you.”

“You become perfect in it. You become you.”

He saved the file.