A new lethal disease affects a large proportion of the men in their early twenties. Thankfully, the authorities have finally found a cure: ingesting good old spunk! And those young beta males are going to need to swallow A LOT of it if they want to survive.
The story, names, and places are entirely fictional. All characters featured in the story are above 18. This story is only meant to be read by a mature audience, and in any case, by people over the age of 18.
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THE CURE
Chapter 7: The Maid
I felt them pouring down on me. The thick volleys of cum, landing straight on my cheeks. Warm, sticky, creamy.
The first and second volleys hit my left cheek, the third stream did hit the intended target (the large bowl made of glass on the coffee table), but the fourth and fifth loads respectively landed on my nose and forehead.
In the span of just a few seconds, I was drenched with Andre's gooey jizz.
He did manage to finish his orgasm inside the bowl, but I had become the primary recipient.
"What the fuck, bro?! We have a buyer waiting for his batch of cum, we cannot waste it all on Dan!" Tyrone scolded his twin brother.
"He had his face right next to my cock! What was I supposed to do? I tried to aim but he was in the way..."
"Come on, you sprayed him on purpose!" Peter intervened. "And me as well, in the process! Guys, you have to stop freaking cum on me!"
Peter showed off his forearm where, no doubt, some spunk had landed.
"Relax, the maid is going to clean you off." Franck said.
As my mates started to argue and insult each other, I remained still, on my knees. I was stunned. Gino was staring at me, his hands on his cock. His fat, hard and dripping Italian cock, may I specify.
"Dude, the cum is dripping from you face, at least, make sure it slides down in the bowl so we can re-use it!"
It was Peter who made this remark but Franck was the one turning his words into action.
The rowing captain grabbed me by the hair and pulled until I was right above the container and the jizz was slowly dripping inside of it.
Talk about a humiliation...
The droplets were running down my nose and cheeks. Some inevitably passed through my lips which I kept shut.
It was ridiculous, I know. I was consuming cum on a daily basis but licking off the sperm sliding down my own face seemed like another step I was not ready to cross.
Besides, being smeared with jizz was encouraged by most studies as another efficient way to ingest the Cure. Especially when the cum was coming straight from a big healthy cock. I was probably helping my case here.
"I think most of it has dripped down in the bowl now." Gino intervened at some point.
I could not believe my best friend was jerking off while I was in this position, but at least, he was trying to help me out.
"Yeah, and I have to go for the bowl myself, I'm getting close. If he's obstructing again, I'll have to give him another facial." Franck pointed out.
Good Lord, a facial from Franck! I would probably disappear under the layers and layers of spunk.
"You can keep the jizz that's drying on your face for yourself." Gino said casually, still acting as my biggest support.
He was looking at Andre for confirmation. It was his sperm after all. But the black Adonis nodded yes: I was authorized to keep his semen as part of my "make-up".
I moved away from the bowl but remained on my knees.
Franck was standing up, getting ready to nut. Gino had reverted his attention back to the porn. The other guys were just watching the show, I mean, watching me. What were they thinking? Was I still their "rowing mate" after everything?
For one thing, I was glad that Jason had left before I was fully compromised.
The sound from the porn was super loud -- that trashy girl on the screen was very vocal about her passion for swallowing loads of cum -, but Franck was covering her with his even more expressive moans.
Although I knew him to be an exhibitionist, this performance was on a whole new level.
Franck was looking straight at me while caressing his nipples with one hand, and stroking his horse cock with the other.
He was clearly getting on by being watched and, it was pretty clear, having me on my knees.
From my point of view, his shaft simply looked humongous.
Not even talking about his massive balls on which my eyes were now fixating...
Despite his four or five ejaculations a day, they constantly looked heavy and full. Which incredible quantity of nutritious sperm was maturing in those nuts on an hourly basis!?
I was hypnotized by the slight contraction of his balls sack after each back and forth...
"Aaaaaaaah.... Hmmmmm..."
The precum was turning his cockhead white, there was a lot of foam already. The cum was dripping, leaking, Franck was about to jizz and he kept fapping furiously.
I envied him so much.
For a split second, I looked down at my own cock, still trapped in my underwear, still blatantly hard though. Even receiving a facial had not been sufficient to calm my erection.
I was a freak.
"Fuck.... I'm coming..."
I looked back up at the giant cock pulsating before my eyes. It seemed to have become even harder. Franck's big balls contracted and with a finale significant throb, the rowing captain started cumming.
Because his cock was so hard, he had to really push down against his shaft to aim towards the bowl. Some landed on his chest and neck but very quickly, he managed to hit the bowl.
There, we got the ultimate proof that Franck was not lying about his hyperspermia condition.
His ejaculation had nothing to do with the five guys who had gone before him. It was like Franck Karter was made of a different species.
His piss-slit opened wide and a huge creamy volley of cum splashed in the bowl... FUCK.
But that was just the beginning! The third and fourth volleys were even thicker and juicier.
With just those three loads (not counting the first one which had landed on his pecs), Franck had nutted something equivalent to all the other guys combined!
I could hardly believe my own eyes.
After his fifth, sixth and then seventh load, - that big dick was a never-ending fountain of spunk -, Franck was already responsible for half of the jizz filling the container!
He became less focused by the end and the sperm started flying around.
I suspected him to have purposely miss his last few shots. It seemed like he aimed right at the table so I would have something to clean off.
If he had, was it a kind help or an unfriendly gesture of him? It was becoming hard to tell.
To be clear, even if these were his eighth to eleventh loads, (I know, right!), Franck Karter was still cumming A LOT. Enough to have a small puddle of jizz sitting on the table, and soon enough, dripping from the edges.
Not to sound gay, but this ejaculation was objectively one of the most incredible things I had ever seen.
"Can you put it back inside the bowl?" Franck asked me when he was done.
