Christmas Special Day 2

You spend the next few minutes lounging on the couch, basking in the afterglow of your holiday humping. But the longer you lie there, the more your mood sours: no matter how good that may have felt, it was your fucking dad--And you barely got a dose out of it! If you're going to survive until New Years, you'll need more than a few secondhand licks of your cum-slick fingers.

As if on cue, you hear your father approaching. He's mumble-singing as he makes his way down the hall: it seems as though he has "The Twelve Days of Christmas" stuck in his head.

At least it's not Mariah Carey or something, you think, rolling your eyes as he pops his head into the room.

"Hi again, Pumpkin--Uh..." He hesitates for a moment, eyeing up your disheveled, half-stripped body. "...Listen, um... Can we talk?"

Oh, sure... NOW he asks for consent. "Sure, Dad... What's up?"

"I wanted to apologize." Moving closer, he perches on the arm of the couch--The same arm he bent you over, just ten minutes ago--And places a hand on your bare thigh. "I know it's been a tough year for you, hon, and... Well, maybe I haven't done the best job at making sure you get regular doses. It's been an adjustment for all of us--But that's no excuse. You're my daughter, and I need to treat you right. Keep you safe."

"Aw... Dad..."

Before you can get too teary-eyed, he continues: "It's not New Years resolution time yet, but... Well, I'm gonna make one anyway: I'm going to be much more diligent about giving you enough semen to drink," he says proudly. "And not just from me--I'll be having some stern words with your brother about wasting doses that should be yours... Talking to your mother about finding other sources, so that I'm not solely responsible for her--And of course... Finding you some other donors as well. Outsourcing, y'know?"

Just then, you hear a knock on the door. You look up, confused--It's a wet, shitty winter day, and you aren't expecting visitors. Who could that be?

But your father gives you a little smile, and rises to his feet. "Speak of the Devil... Or, well, Devils. I've never been the biggest fan of those rascals, but they're exactly what you need right now."

"Huh? Um, what--"

"Be right back, sweetheart."

With that, he leaves you. In the few moments of solitude that follow you pull your flimsy outfit back into place, "covering up" in the loosest of terms. That could be anyone at the door, after all, and--

"Heeey, sup man?" A male voice, in the front hall.

"Where's the spoogedumpster?" A second voice, almost identical to the first.

"Dude, he's pimping out his daughter--Don't be a dick about it."

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Where's the cum receptacle?"

The two young men talk with your father for a minute, and then you hear footsteps approaching. Appearing in the door are two tall, lanky boys, both grinning in your direction--And both naked from the waist down.

Oh, shit. Hiding behind your crossed arms and your skimpy outfit, you look up at the young men with dismay. They're your brother's friends, and two of your least-favorite people: Marcus and Cassidy, the twin perverts from down the street.

"You remember us, right?" Cassidy approaches, plopping down onto the couch beside you.

"...Yeah," you reply through clenched teeth. "You, uh, wasted a dose at Peter's birthday--"

"Oh yeah, guess I busted up your ass," Cassidy laughs, sneaking his hand beneath your butt to cop a feel. "Woops."

Marcus cuts in, as he sits down on the other side of you: "To be fair, I slam-fucked an extra-fat wad down your throat to make up for it. You're welcome."

"I--"

Before you can get out even a single word of protest, your father interrupts: "Now now, honey--Marcus and Cassidy have taken time out of their busy schedules to help out today..."

Their "busy schedules" of playing video games all day and fucking their own mom half to ****?

"...You need to treat them with respect, or they might not be willing to come back!"

Gee whiz... Promise?

But even as you daydream about the possibility of never seeing these creeps again, you know that you have to play along: for all their faults, they've each got a set of overproductive balls. In these lean times, alienating them is simply not an option.

"Okay, fine," you mumble. "Who's going first--"

"Me," they both shout at the same time, each grabbing one of your bare shoulders. Shrugging to one another, they work in tandem to **** you to the floor.

"Ah! Hey, careful!" You wind up on your back, staring up in horror as two incredibly-erect cocks bob into view. While Marcus straddles your chest, slapping his dick against your belly, Cassidy squats over your head in the opposite direction.

"Dude, I told you, I wanna fuck her tits," one of them grunts.

"Yeah? Well so do I," the other replies.

"Uh, boys, I'm just gonna go make a cup of coffee," your father adds awkwardly, from the other side of the room. "Either of you want one?"

"Nah, just your girl's knockers," Cassidy laughs.

"No thanks," Marcus adds, almost apologetically. He really is trying to be polite towards your father--

"Ah!" But not towards you, as he begins slapping his cockhead against your nipples.

"We're just gonna have to share," he says, grabbing your breasts and pushing them together. Spitting on his cock for lubricant, he slides it between them... And soon his brother does the same, entering your cleavage from the other direction.

"H-hey--Slow down--Gentle--"

Your stammering goes unheeded as the boys titfuck you from both ends, yanking your tits around to massage their twin cocks. Luckily, after a few more gobs of spit (and a few splurts of pre-cum), things are relatively well-lubricated: the experience is more humiliating than it is painful.

"...Ungh... Nice... Tits," Marcus growls, dipping his balls against your mouth. "Suck."

After a moment's consideration, you obey: those heavy, churning cum-tanks are cooking up your next dose, after all, so stimulating them is probably in your best interest. You begin lapping at Marcus's ballsack, then take one of his testicles into your mouth and apply a little suction.

"Mmm... Good girl... What a fuckin' slut..."

"Shut up dude, I'm gonna... G-gonna..."

Spitting Marcus's balls out, you snap at Cassidy: "_Mph--Muh--_My m-mouth! Shoot it in m-my--"

But you're too late--Or he's too slow--Or perhaps he simply doesn't care. You feel warmth and wetness against your chest as one boy blows his load, splattering your tits with jizz.

"Ugh, fuuuck, so slippery--Ungh!" Without warning, Cassidy erupts as well. Even more semen splatters your chest and belly as you feel the balls draped across your face twitching and contracting.

"...N-nnmph... Mm-mph..." Crushed under the weight of the two young men, you mumble and writhe feebly. There's no getting out of this: you'll have to salvage whatever scraps you can once they decide to let you free.

Once the twins catch their breath, they finally give you a little breathing room. Marcus gets off your chest, while Cassidy...

"Gmph!"

...Cassidy sticks his cum-splattered testicles back in your mouth, giggling with glee.

"What're you waiting for, cumslut? Suck 'em clean!"

You cringe... You sigh... And you obey.

As you slurp up every drop of jizz you can find, you hear your father in the kitchen... Happy, relaxed, not a care in the world... Singing to himself, as he makes the coffee:

"On the second Day of Christmas, my daddy gave to me... Two titty-fucks... And a cumshot in the pussy!”