On Your Face

Marty slides his hips back as his cock continues to pulse, pumping your mouth harder and slower as you hear footsteps. Then you hear Brad's voice as he starts to talk to your Mistress, “Your room's all clean, Allie.”

Marty's pulsing prick slides out of your mouth, and for the first time, his thick load pumps onto your face. You watch him grab his own dick and jerk it hard and fast, unloading his balls on your face. You keep your head tilted up, your pretty eyes fluttering, though you reflexively twitch each time a stripe of his jism lands on you.

Allie just continues to watch as Marty grinds his fingers up the length of his cock as the pulsing stops. You watch one last drop of cum form on the tip of his cock as he squeezes the last of his thick load out. Your eyes remain focused on his as he grabs your head with one hand and sways his hips forward, his crown coming ever closer until he wipes the last drop of his load on your open left eye.

“Fucking disgusting,” Marty sneers as he turns and walks away, stuffing his prick back in his pants, “Thanks, Allie.” Even as Marty walks away Brad doesn't hesitate to step up to you, pulling his own dick from his pants and shoving it in your mouth.

“You're welcome, Marty. I mean, what're best friends for?” answers Allie as Brad starts to skull-fuck you. You know it's his turn, so you don't resist as your asshole big brother pounds you, stuffing his cock down your throat. He's not as big as Allie, or Sam, or Marty, so you don't even have any trouble taking his rod down your throat.

You clamp your mouth tight, grinding your tongue along the underside of Brad's prick, sucking hard as he uses you. He doesn't go as deep as he could, even, keeping his balls from slapping your cum-covered face. You can hear him sighing in pleasure, even though you can currently only see out of your right eye. Your left eye, you see nothing but white, nothing but Marty's cum covering most of your open eye.

“Well?” asks Allie as her brother continues to pump her cock down your throat, fast and hard. You moan in submission, offering pleasurable vibrations to Brad's rod and making him moan in answer, aroused and enjoying it.

“Fuck, Allie, this faggot is moaning on my dick. You've been programming it well,” Brad grudgingly accedes, “take it fag ... fucking faggot isn't even **** on my cock.” You swallow each time Brad's prick slows to a halt in your throat before he pulls back. You don't know why he's not going balls deep, but he's not and it does not matter.

You mindlessly continue to suck him, worshipping him with all you have as he pumps his meat in and out of your velvet lips, across the wet silk of your soft tongue. Grinding your tongue across his underside with every stroke, you moan and whimper, begging him to unload on you, to let you receive his seed, to make use of you.

“Fuck, it is really working me even as I'm pounding its mouth,” Brad groans, “Fuck we should have done this on your birthday. Fuck ... fuck ...” Brad growls lustfully, hammering his hips to slam his prick down your throat but not so deep he gets Marty's cum on him.

Finally he yanks his cock out of your mouth and starts jerking it. He's pulsing hard, stroking violently, and then he blows. Thick streams of jism pump out of your big brother's dick as the bastard cums on your face, covering you in more seed. Looking down as his pulsing ends, he squeezes his prick the same way Marty had, and he sways his hips, shoving his crown against your right eye.

All you can see is cum as Brad wipes off on your eye, and he sighs in relief, “Fucking stupid worthless faggot piece of shit. I should've known this is all you were. Look at this filth. Goddamn this is wonderful.”

You simply kneel in silence, loads of cum on your face, dense pools on your open eyes that don't go anywhere when you blink. You hear Allie chuckle before Brad speaks again, “Wonder what'd happen if you just let our cum dry on it like this and didn't clean it off.”

“Who cares? It can be filthy and disgusting, until I tell it to bathe. It's nothing but a cum dumpster,” Allie replies, and Brad grunts and then laughs cruelly above you.

“Damn. I thought you loved Brian, Allie,” he says, and you can imagine her shrugging.

“I did, but that isn't Brian. Brian is dead. That's nothing but a faggot cock-sleeve and cum-dump Brian left for me as his going-away present. It's nothing more than a place to stuff my cock and drain my balls,” Allie says as she continues to eat her breakfast. You imagine Brad shrugging before you hear his boots on the floor as he walks away, and then the back door.

A knock on the front door catches your attention, and Allie clears her throat, “Well? Go answer the door, fag. It's probably Zeke with the newspaper for his morning payment.”

You crawl on your hands and knees toward the sound of the door. You're not used to walking on your hands and knees, yet, but you've always had the layout of the house more-or-less memorised. You reach your destination, hearing the continuing knocking, and reach up to the doorknob to open the door ...