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The Weitzmanns

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Anxiousness had taken hold of her again, this very distinct mixture of excitement and powerlessness you feel when you want something that you cannot have. She lay in her bed, staring out through the window into the night sky, her fingers clutching the hair under her head. The clouds were thick and she heard the hissing of the wind. Suddenly she stopped breathing abruptly and listened, lifting her head up slightly. Did she hear someone coming? Was it him?

There was nothing. Softly and silently she let her head sink back onto the pillow. She relaxed her fingers and again focused her gaze onto the night. Her mind was racing. She had to let go of this obsession, she had to snap out. It was not good for her, it was eating her up. She knew that it was dangerous to get absorbed with something that is out of reach, like falling in love with someone who does not love you back. Only in this case it was not about love, it was about a sexual fetish. And indeed that fetish was eating her up. Every night she lay awake, waiting, hoping for it to happen again. If she could only master the bravery to go out and have a random guy do it to her! She could have it every day, she could take control. But she was not ready for that, she was sure of it.

Bravery is a curious thing, she thought. Is not everything in life about courage, about having the guts to go out into the world and take what you want? She felt like a coward. She was no better than the men that stared at her unfathomable cleavage like slobbering dogs. They too were cowards because they did not talk to her like a normal person would, and that is why she loathed them. A normal person! A normal person? She knew she expected something from men that she had never done herself — walking up to a stranger and starting a conversation instead of wallowing in fantasy. And this discrepancy hurt the most. The growing chasm between her expectations and her actions.

A bolt of pain bit through her forehead. This was leading nowhere. She had thought these thoughts over and over again. She was lost floating freely with nothing to grab on to. She had acquired an excessive lust for something she could not direct, because she was too much of a coward to go out and take it. She had lost control.

She had sworn to herself not to think about this again. Every bit of thought not outweighed by action would widen the gap and she would go mad like a raging bull at a dead end. The next time he came she would master the courage to tell him how much she loved his little game — breaking the spell right there.

She looked outside again, blanking her mind, trying to see the stars through the thick layers of clouds. There was one. After a while another one. She kept looking, concentrating, getting tired. She was ready to fall asleep — finally.

Her eyelids fell and she eased her grip, drifting off. She was almost gone when she thought she heard a faint squeak. Was there a noise now? She listened closely, tilting her head. She heard another squeak. She was sure someone had entered her wing. Was it just one of the maids doing her round, or could it be him?

She was firmly awake now, lying on her bosom. She bit into her pillow and breathed silently through her nose. She heard steps and muttering. Voices, dampened voices and another door opening. Somebody was on the way to her bedroom. But it was not a single person, like usual. It sounded like a whole gang. All the thoughts from before, Betturkey all the questions and the answer, it all gave way to curiosity and excitement.

The group was close now, and she felt the adrenalin pumping her muscles. The novelty of hearing voices, not only steps, erased all her previous concerns, and she felt a hesitation to take the action she had decided on just minutes ago. It should have alarmed her. But she did not feel it. There was only ecstasy. She turned on her back and closed her eyes.

When they opened the door to her bedroom, she seemed fast asleep. Marc went in first and signaled the others to wait. He tiptoed through the door and stopped in front of her elaborate bed. Calmly, he drew the transparent curtain to the side. It made a soft, squeaking noise, barely audible. Slowly, he bent over. His eyes were still getting used to the darkness. The first thing he could make out were her firm, voluptuous breasts. They were incomprehensibly large for a twenty year old girl, and he had never seen even a picture of another girl that was so slim and yet hat such large breasts. Both tits had slid out from under the blanket, one on it and the other one was sliding onto her left shoulder. Then he could make out the beautiful hairline of her dark hair, and her face, turned away from him, facing towards the window. She was breathing calmly. So far she had not noticed them.

The others were nervous. He could sense it. He turned around and made an affirmative gesture. But he signaled them to wait. He wanted to make sure she was asleep.

“Olivia!”, he whispered.

No response. Again, a bit louder.

“Olivia!”

She made no sign of hearing him. He licked his finger, and carefully touched the nipple of the breast that was slung around her shoulder. He could feel it stiffening and caressed it a bit more. She swept his hand away with her arm and turned her head towards the door. But her eyes remained closed. She was asleep. Fast asleep.

He tiptoed back to the others.

“Hey guys, she’s asleep. This time we’ll really piss her off.”

The guys, eager to hear this, followed him carefully through the door. One after the other they gathered around the bed. Marc had brought a good half of the team, it was twelve guys in total. He was the first one to get out his dick. Stroking it firmly but silently, the others followed his example. Soon twelve young men were standing around her bed, deliberately stroking their penises.

“And remember: No touching,” Marc whispered. “We don’t want to wake her up. Just cum on her face and get out.”

Marc was a bit anxious. He had never done this with his friends. He usually came in here alone in the middle of the night, when his sister had done something during the day that had set him off. He knew she hated it.

The mornings were the most fun. He would wake up when she furiously stormed into his room, still covered in his dried up cum, yelling at him. What the fuck he was thinking, how immature he was, how often she had told him already not to cum on her fucking face at night, and what the fuck she was gonna tell the other girls at the agency about her red eye — again. He always cracked up in laughter and the scene went on until she ran out to vanish into the bathroom, still cursing violently.

Then came the family breakfast. It was always the same. His father had usually left already or was still in bed. His mother Betturkey Giriş was so preoccupied with her “frosted” cereal that she hardly cared to take notice of the situation. She would ignore the subject until Olivia started to complain. Then she would turn on her serious voice and tell him that it was not polite to ejaculate on his sleeping sister, and that he at least should not cum in her eye if he did it again. Then Olivia would complain more and eventually he would say that he was sorry, just to grin at Olivia as soon as their mother decided to direct her full attention at her cereal again.

All this thinking about tomorrow morning, and all the fun he was going to have when his sister realized that half of his team had discharged onto her face during the night almost made him cum. He was just about to shoot his load when Olivia twitched in her sleep. She made a sigh as she opened her mouth to breathe out. Silence. Everyone stopped stroking their cocks and listened. Had she been woken by the sound of twelve guys jerking off around her bed? They stood frozen, not making a sound for at least twenty seconds. But Olivia continued to breathe regularly.

“Olivia!”

Nothing. It must have been a normal twitch. He slowly started to stroke again and the teammates followed his lead.

“Alright guys. If she’s dumb enough to open her mouth, we’ll give her a surprise! One of you cum into her hair, and one cum in her eyes. All the others shoot your loads into her mouth.”

The others complied and gatherd behind him. He did not know what they were thinking, but they were always up for any mischief he planned. I guess they thought it a bit weird to cum on his sister. But then again his family was out of the ordinary in any way, and they probably filed this undertaking as a normal Weitzmann family absurdity and made their best of it.

He looked at her face and her open mouth, formed like an ‘O’, just as if she was begging for him to cum. She did have an exceptionally cute, beautiful face. But that made it even more fun to deface her with semen. Then he came. He made a step towards the bed so that his penis almost touched her lips and shot four thick white lines into her mouth. The first splattered off her cute bunny-like front teeth, but the other three hit the back of her throat. He had left a proud puddle of white semen gathering in her mouth.

This was the moment when he usually took off. Now he watched her intently. Olivia continued to breathe calmly. There was no sign she had woken up. This was good. He signaled the others to step forward as he moved away. He watched one after the other unloading their seed into her mouth. After the eighth guy it was so full that it started to run out a little at the corner of her mouth.

“That’s enough! We don’t want to waste the rest. Now only cum on her eyes and hair!”

He wondered how she could still breathe and stay so firmly asleep. Her mouth was filled with cum to the rim, blocking her throat. Her body must have adjusted, and started to breathe through the nose without waking her up.

The second guy of the last four dropped a huge load onto her eyes. That must be at least twice as much as he had cum. And it was very dense, barely fluid and white. It coated her eyelids like the thick layer of peanut butter on a sandwich. She now looked like one of these girls in Japanese bukkake movies when they make them wear a scuba mask, take Betturkey Güncel Giriş out the glass and have fifty men cum into that mask. Only that the actresses are usually told to leave their eyes open and try to look through the quarter-inch-strong deposit of cum.

The last guy unloaded onto her forehead and into her hair. They were ready to go as Daniel, one of the earlier ones, stepped back up to the bed.

“I have another one. And I’ll make it nasty!”

He was violently jerking his cock as he approached her face and Marc was afraid she would wake up. But it would not matter now. They’ve had their fun. Now he was only looking forward to breakfast. Daniel gave a quiet sigh and lowered his penis to point at her nose. Then he shot three loads of considerable consistency into her nostrils. One into the left nostril, one into the right, and another into the left. The guys started to jeer as Daniel stepped back. They all moved out of the room, closing the door behind them and started laughing and cheering as soon as they were a couple yards down the hall.

Olivia listened intently. She did not want them to know she had been awake the whole time. “Hurry!”, she thought, “Get out of the room!” She could barely breathe with the ejaculate blocking her throat, but now with the cum inside her nose she could get no air at all. And she did not want to embarrass herself by coughing or snorting.

While she lay there, she used her tongue to stir the cum in her mouth, the semen touching every last of her tastebuds. She loved this taste. Salty, of thick consistency, and the stench. She had hated it when she was younger. But as with the taste of beer or broccoli this perception had changed over the years. It also had this nasty, skanky character to it. Right now she was moving her tongue through the cum of eight different guys, and it turned her on incredibly. She felt between her legs. There was a puddle of pussy juice on her mattress, and her vagina was so slippery she could have fisted herself right there.

The door snapped close. Olivia waited another second or two, and then swallowed the sperm with a huge gulp, followed by a desperate gasp. It sounded like a woman in the desert drinking the first water in days. She had planned to drink it very slowly to enjoy every bit, but now her lust for cum and her desire to breathe were so great that she practically inhaled it.

She lay on her back, breathing quickly. She felt the semen in her stomach and her eyes and nose were still clogged. She reached over to turn on the light. Then she opened her eyes. At first she could see nothing but a waxy silhouette of reality, but as she could make out her cum covered face more and more in the mirror on the ceiling, she began fingering herself. She licked at the tiny drops of cum running from her nose to get herself even more aroused, and while she rubbed her clitoris with her thumb, four fingers were violently slamming in an out of her pussy. Through her sperm mask, she stared at her mirror image, her face plastered with cum. Her eyes trying to twitch close. But she kept them open and the cum visor turned her on more than she had ever been before. When she was almost there, when she was ready to climax, she snorted the cum up her nose and down her throat. The taste of this nasal cum hitting her taste buds combined with the semen now burning in her eyes made her cum so hard that she twitched around violently, her legs shaking and bending about, she was screaming and even squirting a little.

Her muscles relaxed shortly after. She fell firmly asleep, the semen in her eyes giving her the comforting feeling of a fulfilled fetish. Much like a man falling a sleep on a pair of big soft breasts.

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