What Night Holds

Tom thought to himself as he lay in bed, wondering what his world now would look like. He was exhausted, possibly from getting off a total of six times today - twice in the Jizz-erade, twice times in the squeeze bottle of thickening syrup, once in Wanda's cream cheese and once down the throat of his now adoring, slutty oldest step-daughter. The hunger was intense - in his case, for milk, for peanuts, for beans, for meat. He needed protein, and he figured it must be how over reactive his balls must be. Five times in one day and he was sure he had at least one or two more loads in him - loads he really wanted to put into someone else. Catherine was in the shower, freshening up, and he couldn't wait to have sex with her again after so long of her giving him the cold shoulder.

Downstairs, Wanda had messaged her friends, saying she wouldn't be going to the bar tonight - she had to buckle down, focus on her studies for a little bit. Really, she had been trying to come up with a way to help Tom with the coffee shop. She may have come across an idea. If she could get her friends to start coming with her to the coffee shop in the afternoon, they could all get a pick-me-up and Tom's shop would at least look more full. That would make Tom happy, right?

In the next room over, Samantha looked at her homework. It was... boring. She didn't want to do this. She knew she wanted something, but she didn't know what. There was something gnawing away in the pit of her stomach, maybe lower. Until she got it, she wouldn't be happy. She put on some music to help her focus, hoping the sounds piping in through her headphones would distract her from the growing emptiness inside her.

Logan and Charly got home last, which was a rarity for them. They normally got in about 10, so that wasn't too out of the ordinary - its that they weren't used to Wanda already being home if it wasn't a Sunday. Maybe she was under the weather, they had considered. Both of them had gained an oral fixation all day, and once they got into the house and into Logan's room, they had each stripped naked and dove into the bed for what quickly became a furious 69. Logan sucked, licked and probed Charly's slit, he tongued around her clit for the better part of an hour, but it didn't stop the feeling. It was just muted. For Charly, meanwhile, she tried her best to make Logan cum for her. It took her finger giving him a small external prostate massage, rubbing behind his balls until his eyes rolled back and his semen flooded her mouth. It was sweeter, and it had a very faint aftertaste of cookie dough, like the punch he had brought to bed last night did. She laughed to herself at how kinky her man was, eating pineapple and making her drink his cum, oblivious to the fact that pineapple doesn't make semen taste like sugar cookie dough, or that it wasn't Logan's that had been in the drink.

Down the street, Brenda's husband Paul was having the greatest night he had gotten in over a week as he watched his wife, who normally wouldn't even look at him without a shirt on, take his cock all the way down to the base with her mouth. Every time she choked and got off of him, he'd offer that she could stop, only for her to say "No, no, let me do it," until the sixth time she gave up.

"You tried really good, honeypie," Paul offered. He was being a little sweeter, as any man would if he had just gotten enthusiastic throat as his first sexual interaction in over half a decade.
"Thanks," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I thought I could do it. Time for plan B," she said before straddling him, putting the tip of his up-until-recently-neglected penis against her anal sphincter. "Want to put it in my ass?"

Paul's night had now surpassed the night he golfed 2 under par last week.

Further across town, Miss Ashleigh Billings was furiously pounding her snatch with a large, clear dildo, thinking of how much she couldn't wait for Tuesday and getting the first half of her weekly rent from her favorite barista at her favorite coffee shop. Her husband, meanwhile, was overlooking the books. He wondered why there was a voided rent contract for Tom's Cafe. Maybe she had taken his advice to raise it another $500. That had been a bad fight, but she clearly came to her senses.

By the college, in a house right off campus, Carrie looked over a diagram. Unlike the others, she knew. She knew Tom had fed Miss Ashleigh Billings and unwittingly her his delicious man batter, and she had even taken it right from the spout. And she knew, if she were him, he'd try it out more. Her coworker Julia needed the same new sense of purpose. Carrie's psychology classes had given her a little more insight into what was happening. She had a new purpose - make as many people as she could enjoy the rush of the elation, and, if they wanted to go further, to be good girls (and maybe boys and enbys?) for Tom. If Tom wanted them. There were variables to test, and she hoped Tom would help her test them.

Tom's mind wasn't on that right now, as his wife had just come out of the shower and draped her naked form over his own, and he was currently enraptured with his hands buried in her dark brown waves of hair, and his cock resting against her face as she sucked on his balls.

"I forgot how big you were," Catherine said, stroking his somewhat larger beefstick as it rested against her face. "You must have gotten so hard, seeing Wanda wander around all day," she moaned before sucking on his hard length. She moaned as his fingers gripped her hair. He wanted to make her know he was in charge, so he started guiding her head slowly. She pulled up off of him and smiled.

"Use my throat, love," she said before being shoved all the way down. Tom knew she was the best throat game he had ever had and she still had it. He began fucking his wife like her esophagus was a disposable onahole, and she moaned through the entire process. He pulled her off and rolled out of the bed before pulling her head off the side.

"Take a deep breath, slut," he growled.

"Yes Master," she giggled before he began fucking her mouth like it was her pussy and she was a cheap whore.

Catherine tried her best to breath. She hat- loa- cou- she wondered why it had been so long since she had tasted Tom's cock, and she dread- was disg- looked forward to him filling her mouth and tummy with his putr- fou- ranci- yummy cum. She didn't want to focus on the bad thoughts. She wanted to focus on Tom's happiness, and the wonderful noise of her throat being used, of his balls slapping her face, of Tom's grunting.

The others in the house heard it. Wanda's hand began going to her wet, previously used slit as she touched herself, happy that Tom was taking his frustration out on Catherine but wishing she'd have a turn to be Daddy's throat sleeve later.

Samantha was overcome with jealousy and lust - first Logan is getting laid, and now her mom? It was unfair!

Logan heard the noise and instantly got hard again, and he and Charly aggressively sucked on each other, unconsciously knowing they wished it was another load they each got. Charly eventually gave up on the idea and let Logan fuck her pussy to the rhythm of Tom fucking his mom's mouth pussy. He sprayed within her in no time and she grabbed the back of Logan's head, forcing him to eat his own seed out of her. He suddenly didn't mind the taste, but wished it were stronger.

Soon Tom was at his limit and he shoved his cock into Catherine's throat, pumping his hot cream right into her stomach. Catherine noticed how much their was. How warm it was. He needed more than her. He soon unsheathed himself from her mouth, the slime of her throat coating him. She swallowed the last bit of his seed that had dribbled out as he was in her mouth and she sighed.

"I needed that," she said before cuddling up to him. "We should have sexy times more often, hubby wubby. You had so much!"

Tom sighed before answering. "Yeah, that was my sixth time coming today," and he froze. She hated him masturbating. He shouldn't have admitted to that. She looked at him in horror.