“Daph, how’s it looking? Can you get those cumstains out of my dress?”

Daphne placed the napkin over the open bottle of soda water and tilted them in tandem. Leaning down and dabbing at the front of Julia’s dress with the wet spot of the napkin, she replied, “I think this won’t be too bad, Jules. The fabric isn’t very absorbent.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I don’t know why I didn’t just swallow their cum,” Julia chided herself.

“Now you’ll know for next time,” Daphne teased. “There, I think that’s good.” She stood up and cast an appraising eye over Julia’s midsection. “Nobody will notice the damp spots, and if they do, you can call them a masher and they’ll be embarrassed because you caught them looking.”

“Okay, but just to be safe, I think I’ll steer clear of my grandmother for the rest of the night. She has an eagle eye.”

They had begun walking up the corridor towards the grand staircase. The magnificent crystal chandelier lit their faces from overhead. “Oh Jules, that reminds me—you were going to introduce me to your cousins."

Julia groaned. “And I do not want my creepy cousins leering at me either.” She paused. “I tell you what. I’ll introduce you to the oldest one, Tommy. He’s not such a bad apple.”

“Attagirl, Jules!” Daphne laughed and playfully punched her on the arm.

When they reached the entrance to the ballroom and stepped inside, the girls peered into the haze of tobacco smoke, searching for young men with red hair. Daphne immediately realized this was like searching for pigeons in Central Park.

“Is that him over there?” Daphne pointed discreetly.

“No, that’s Sean Malone. But he and Tommy are both about the same height,” Julia offered.

“How about him?” Daphne nodded towards another tall young man.

“No, that’s Fergus Doyle. His sister Molly sat behind us in class.”

“Ugh, we’re never going to find him,” Daphne groaned.

“Find whom?” a voice behind them asked smoothly.

Julia turned and feigned the accent of a Southern belle. “Why, Tommy Culligan, as I live and breathe!” Dropping the accent, she continued. “We were looking for you, as a matter of fact.”

Tommy was taken aback. He had seen his cousin Julia conspiring with a raven-haired beauty in a green dress and decided to have a little fun with them. Had they really been looking for him, or was Julia playing him for a fool?

“Are you pulling my leg?” Tommy asked.

“No, honest!” Julia assured him. “Daphne doesn’t know anyone at the party besides her parents, and I thought you could show her around and introduce her to some people.”

“Hi, I’m Daphne,” the raven-haired beauty interjected.

“Tommy Culligan, at your service. I’m sure cousin Julia has told you all about me,” he chuckled.

“Not much, but you can tell me yourself,” Daphne replied.

“Oops, here comes Mamó!” Julia hissed. “I’ll leave you to it,” she told them before hustling off in the opposite direction.

Tommy looked to Daphne for an explanation, but she shook her head and said “I’ll tell you later.”

“So, what’s with the bottle and the wet napkin?” he inquired.

“Oh, just a little spill.” Daphne dropped the napkin and kicked it under a small table, then set the glass bottle on the table. Taking Tommy’s arm and guiding him away, she asked brightly “So Julia says you’re the oldest?”

“Yes, I have four younger brothers: Denny is next oldest, then Marty, and then the twins, Jimmy and Joey. They just had their eighteenth birthday a couple of weeks ago. We had a big party; it’s a shame you missed it.” Tommy spoke warmly but tried not to sound overly enthusiastic; he was afraid he might scare off this exotic bird by thrashing around in the bushes.

“Yes, that’s too bad,” Daphne agreed. “Do you all get along?”

“Yes, I would say we do. All siblings fight occasionally, but we’re always there for each other when it matters.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“And how about you? Do you have any siblings?”

Daphne stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “Why, are you hoping I’ll have a sister who’s prettier than I am?” she demanded.

“Gosh, no!” Tommy blurted. “I was just—” He stopped when he saw that Daphne was trying, and failing, to keep a straight face. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg!”

Daphne laughed and nodded. “I’m just kidding you. But no, I’m an only child. Mother had a difficult time with my delivery and the doctor said she wouldn’t have children again.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!” Tommy’s face reddened.

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t want to,” Daphne reasoned.

“You’re certain I haven’t upset you?”

“Heck, no! It was a long time ago. And I think it gave Mother and me a closer bond than we would have had otherwise.”

“That’s a fair point,” Tommy acknowledged. “I know that sometimes Denny and Marty feel lost in the middle, and the twins are always being lumped together.” He caught himself. “See? I just called them ‘the twins’ without using their actual names.”

Daphne continued walking. “So as the oldest, do you feel a responsibility towards them?”

“Yes, of course. I’m only three years older than Joey and Jimmy, but I always had to be the lead dog. Or the mother hen,” he added ruefully. “I’m not complaining; I’m glad to do it. But sometimes I worry that my brothers are going to remain boys instead of men, because they’ve always had me around to handle things.”

They continued walking and talking; Tommy got the lowdown on Sacred Heart Academy for Girls, and Daphne learned a bit more about the Culligan family and its various enterprises. After a few minutes–

“Well, Tommy Culligan,” Daphne declared. “I think that tonight I’d like to take some of that load off your shoulders.”

“All right, Daphne...”

“Davenport.”

“...Daphne Davenport. Taking a load off sounds nice. But how?”

“Round up your brothers and meet me back at the entrance.”

Tommy wasn’t sure how collecting his brothers would help ease the burden, but Daphne winked and said “Trust me.”

A moment later, the six of them were gathered in the hallway and Tommy was making introductions.

“Fellas, this is Daphne, Julia’s friend from Sacred Heart.” Deliberately not following birth order, Tommy indicated each of his brothers in turn.

“This is Jimmy,” he began.

“Pleased to meet you, Daphne.”

“And this is Marty,” he continued.

“How do you do, Daphne.”

“And here we have Joey.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Daphne.”

“And this here is Denny.”

“Good evening, Daphne.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all!” Daphne laughed. “Julia has told me so much about you,” she fibbed. Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned and saw the five jazz musicians exiting a room and shuffling down the hallway towards the back of the ballroom. “I think I see an empty room; what do you say we head in there and get to know each other a little better?”

The brothers murmured their assent and they all trouped down the hallway to the door of the recently vacated salon. Daphne eased the door open and saw nothing out of the ordinary but a dirty champagne flute and a wisp of smoke from an ashtray on a table. “Okay, the coast is clear,” she reported, and led them inside.

When the door closed behind them, Daphne turned and addressed the group.

“Boys, Tommy has been telling me how sometimes you rely on him too much to make decisions, and you all could be more assertive. I said I would like to take some of that load off his shoulders. But that wasn’t precisely true.” Tommy gave her a funny look, and Daphne continued, using the most sultry voice she could muster. “I do want to take a load from you, but not from your shoulders.” She looked around. “I want to take a load of hot, sticky cum from each of your hard cocks.”

Five pairs of eyes bugged out upon hearing this. Tommy stammered, “Y-You really must be pulling our legs, Daphne.”

Pressing her point, Daphne slipped the thin straps of her dress over her exposed shoulders, down onto her arms where the narrow ruffled sleeves sat. Tilting her head demurely, she then hooked her thumbs into the straps and pulled them further down, parting the V-neck of her wrap dress and slowly revealing her firm, ripe tits to the young men assembled before her.

“Oh, I’m not pulling your legs,” she replied in a throaty whisper. “I’m going to be pulling what’s between your legs.” Arching one eyebrow, she continued. “But only if you take control and make it happen.”

The four younger brothers immediately looked to Tommy for guidance, but he put up his hands in protest. After a few seconds of charged silence, one of the twins, either Jimmy or Joey, Daphne wasn’t sure, stepped forward.

“Those are some nice looking...” he gestured at her chest and trailed off.

“Tits?” Daphne inquired with an impish smile. “Say it.”

“Those are some nice looking tits.”

“Why, thank you... Joey?” she guessed, and caught Tommy giving her a slight nod in the affirmative. “They’d look even nicer with your cum all over them, wouldn’t you say?”

Joey nodded in slow motion and began undoing his fly. “Yes. Yes, I’m going to ice your tits like a lemon bundt cake.” This broke the ice, and Marty, Denny, and Jimmy all began unbuttoning their pants as well. Tommy stood back, shaking his head, but with an amused smile on his lips.

Daphne noticed a folded wool blanket on the floor and knelt down on it. That was handy, she thought. “Joey,” she cooed, batting her eyelashes at him.

Joey stepped up and fished his stiff cock out of his undershorts. Daphne immediately engulfed it in her mouth and began bobbing her head up and down. In less than a minute, she felt his balls contract, and she pulled her head off and pointed his cock at her chest as it began spurting hot cum in every direction. Beating it vigorously, Daphne milked Joey’s dick of the last remaining drops. She then took a moment to admire her handiwork. “Great decorating!” she beamed.

Jimmy came forward next. “Jeepers, Daphne. You were right.”

“About…?”

“About your tits looking even better covered in cum. Want some more?”

“Now you’re talking! Ice them up!” Daphne laughed. She slid her pouting lips over the head of Jimmy’s cock, and he was so worked up that he came even faster than Joey. One, two, three…

“Arrrgh!” he yelled, and Daphne managed to back off and aim his cock at her slick tits just before he fired off a salvo of sperm.

“Yes, do it, Jimmy!” Daphne shouted while pounding his prick. “Cum on my fucking tits!”

Denny approached her next, with his cock resting in his hand. “Daphne?” he inquired.

“Yes, Denny?” Daphne replied innocently.

“Can I— I mean, would you—”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Don’t be shy, Denny. Just spit it out.”

“Can— Can I cum in your mouth?”

“I tell you what," Daphne smiled. “Bring me that champagne glass. You can cum in my mouth, then I’ll—ahem—spit it out into the glass so you can all watch me swallow it.”

Marty spoke up. “Daphne, want to make it a double?”

Daphne’s eyebrows shot up. “Why, you dirty, dirty dog! Marty, that is a wonderfully filthy idea.”

Tommy finally joined in. “How about we make it a triple?”

Daphne fluttered her eyelashes. “Of course, Tommy Culligan. Anything for you.”

Tommy wasn’t sure whether Daphne was being entirely serious, but he didn’t really care. He finally began undoing his pants, albeit with some difficulty because his hands were shaking.

Turning back to Denny, Daphne sank her head on his throbbing cock, gliding up and down, coating his shaft with her slippery spit. A minute later he gave a guttural cry and Daphne slid her lips back off his shaft so only the head remained inside. She pumped his stiff cock as he squirted a half dozen salty shots into her mouth. Taking the champagne glass, she drooled the load of scalding hot cum into it, watching it coat the sides as it slid down. There was already some murky champagne at the bottom of the glass, but Daphne was in no position to be concerned about catching someone else’s germs.

Marty stepped forward. Daphne smiled and handed him the glass for safekeeping. She parted her soft red lips and eased his pulsating cock into her cum-coated mouth. She lowered her head once, twice...

“Aaaah!” Marty yelled, and Daphne parked her lips around the ridge of his cockhead, feeling his hot jism spray her teeth and tongue. When he was fully spent, he handed Daphne the champagne flute and she let the cum drip off her tongue into the glass, where it mingled with Denny’s load.

“Last call!” Daphne announced, winking at Tommy.

He approached her and said with a laugh “Daphne, you’re the bee’s knees.”

“Actually, my knees are getting sore,” Daphne pretended to complain. 

Tommy bent down to whisper in her ear. “I think I love you, Daphne Davenport.”

Daphne had never heard those words from a boy before, and she was momentarily stunned. “I kinda like you, too, Tommy Culligan,” she managed to reply. Handing him the champagne glass, she demanded “Now are you going to let me suck your beautiful cock or not?”

Tommy’s dick was at half-staff, but as he fed it into Daphne’s warm and willing mouth, it grew thicker and harder until it reached its full size. Daphne wanted to give Tommy a little something extra, so she made sure to work her tongue on the underside of his bulbous cockhead just below his pee hole. Looking up, she locked eyes with him while slowly bobbing her head on his rock-hard cock, then gradually increased the pace.

Seeing the porcelain whites of Daphne’s eyes looking up at him, her plush red lips sliding up and down on his cock, and her dynamite tits coated in cum, Tommy couldn’t hold out any longer. He groaned “Daaaaaphneeeee...” and flooded her mouth with a cauldron of roiling hot cum.

Daphne’s cheeks puffed out as she struggled to keep it all in. She waved vigorously for the glass, and unleashed a torrent of pearly white sperm into it while gasping for air. The glass was nearly full, and Daphne’s eyes lit up at the sight.

Two of the brothers each took an elbow and helped her up. “A toast,” she began, feeling slightly dizzy and listing a few degrees to starboard. “A toast to the Culligan brothers. Slain-tay!” she cheered, doing her best to pronounce “Sláinte”.

Tommy chuckled. “Slon-cha. It’s pronounced Slon-cha.”

Daphne tipped her head to him. “Okay, have it your way, then. Slon-cha!” she cheered again, and gulped down the warm, creamy cum from her glass. The boys clapped and whistled and hooted their encouragement as the last of the slimy sperm drained out of the glass past her lips.

As the four younger brothers got dressed and filed out of the room, Daphne pulled up her shoulder straps and gave Tommy a quick kiss on the cheek. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“In some ways, yes, but now I have something else weighing on my mind.”

Afraid of what else he might say, or what she might say in response, Daphne gave him a tart smile and said softly, “I remember what you said earlier, Tommy Culligan, and I may hold you to it. But now you’d better go.”

“Well, it was wonderful getting to know you, Daphne Davenport. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

Tommy left the room and Daphne exhaled. What was that tingling feeling she felt when Tommy spoke to her? Was it love? Or just her private parts craving attention? In either case—

“Daphne, you’re the bee’s knees,” a voice drifted from the far side of the room. Daphne whirled around to see her mother smirking over the back of an overstuffed chair.

“Jesus, Mother! What the hell—”

“Mercy me, Daphne, your language!” Delilah interrupted. “Although what was it you said earlier?” she laughed. “Oh, yes. ‘Cum on my fucking tits!’ That has a certain poetic je ne sais quoi about it.”

“I swear, Mother. Were you spying on me the whole time?”

“Not intentionally, no. I was sitting here, minding my own business, when you jokers burst in and started going to town.”

Daphne’s eyes narrowed. “Just a minute.” She bent and picked up the folded square of wool. “Is this your shawl that was folded up on the floor?”

Delilah closed her eyes, mentally kicking herself.

“And was this your champagne glass?” Daphne asked while stepping forward, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

Delilah gave Daphne a beleaguered look.

“Oh, I see now!” Daphne had reached the other side of the room and, looking over the back of the chair, saw that her mother’s dress was stained with even more cum than her own. “I saw the band leaving earlier; it looks like you were entertaining them instead of the other way around,” she laughed, tossing the shawl onto the arm of the chair.

“All right, you caught me,” Delilah giggled. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. It was your father’s idea. That was his champagne glass.”

Daphne’s eyes widened in horror. “You mean he— I— his—” she spluttered.

Delilah saw her mistake. “Oh, no, no, no! He didn’t, ah, fill the glass; he emptied it,” she explained.

“So you didn’t just sit here and watch me drink my father’s leftover cum, then.” Daphne folded her arms defiantly over her chest and instantly regretted it; her chest was cold and wet, and now her arms were as well.

“No.” Delilah wrinkled her nose in disgust. “No, I would have stopped you. It would have been awkward with all those boys there, but I would have stopped you.”

At that moment, Harvey Davenport returned, carrying Delilah’s coat. Daphne squawked a little scream and turned away from the door. “I looked for fifteen minutes, but I couldn’t find—” he began, then stopped, looking up. “Oh, Daphne found you instead. Wonderful. Did you tell her you aren’t feeling well and we need to leave?”

“Yes, dear, of course.”

Daphne, who was still facing away from the door, gave her mother a pleading look.

“He knows.” Delilah mouthed silently. “About both of us. It’s all right.” 

Daphne nodded, and Delilah continued. “Daphne will need you to fetch her coat as well. She came down with the same thing I did.”

Harvey was puzzled until his daughter turned around and showed him the wet streaks on her dress. Her breasts glistened in the light.

“Well, I’ll be!” he laughed, recovering from his initial shock.

“You’ll be what, dear?” Delilah retorted.

“I’ll be getting Daphne’s coat and then I’ll be getting you two out of here,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

As her husband exited, Delilah rose and reached out to take her daughter’s hand. “Honey, I was teasing you earlier, but it sounds as though you and that Tommy Culligan boy really like each other.”

“Ugh!” Daphne groaned. “I don’t know what I was thinking. We’d known each other for all of ten minutes before I offered to french him and his brothers like a two-bit whore.”

Delilah was momentarily distracted by trying to calculate the ratio of 25 cents to 250 dollars, but replied before Daphne noticed. “But how were those first ten minutes?”

“Good. Great. Amazing. I don’t know!” Daphne scowled and flopped down in the recently vacated chair. “We talked about things that were honest. That were real. I feel like I know him, really know him, and he knows me. After only ten minutes. How does that even happen?”

“I have to say, it sounds like your father and me when we first met.”

“Mother, I’m nineteen years old; I’m not ready to get married!” Her mother gave her a look. “I know you married Father when you were still nineteen, but my generation—”

“It’s fine, honey,” Delilah cut her off. “I know that things are different today, and I’m not saying you have to marry the boy tomorrow. But if he likes you and you like him, why not see where it goes?”

“I suppose,” Daphne assented. “Thank you, Mother,” she continued as she stood and went to give her mother a kiss. “Wait, should I not kiss you, because…?”

“For heaven’s sake, your father didn’t even take off his pants tonight!” Delilah huffed, looking to the ceiling. “But I did blow the entire band, so maybe I’ll just give you a hug.” Looking down at their sperm-soaked dresses, they reconsidered. “Or, let’s not,” Delilah laughed. She looked around. “Now, what in the world is keeping your father?”

“Ugh, give me your shawl, Mother,” Daphne demanded as she stamped her foot. “I’m fucking freezing in this dress!”

“Mercy me, Daphne, your language!”