Alena is radiant, her smooth, milky skin glowing under the studio lights. She does a slow, sensual dance for me, and her soft, flame-colored hair flashes like the sun as she moves.

“How do I look?” She asks. Surely she must already know. She’s insanely beautiful and perfectly desirable; a veritable sex kitten. She could walk into a room and have any man she wanted and some of the women too. They’d be crawling and begging at her feet for just a moment of her attention. The four “trophies” trapped under the thin straps of her fun-size bikini attest to this fact. The heavy loads that fill the condoms were apparently collected earlier in the night from men in this very hotel.

“Like a dream,” I whisper. “Alena, how many men and women have you been with?”

“What do I look like,” she laughs. “A mathematician? More than you is all I can say. But never so many in a single day. That’s for sure.”

I look around the room. Steven and Rafael lounge in the shadows drinking bourbon and water, staring at her. Their gazes are dull with lust as they recover. She has them under her spell. Just like I am. We’d do anything for her if only she’d ask.

Now, I see Anton step back into the light. He's fully nude and well on his way to a powerful hard-on. The photographer is thin and wiry with lean muscle. He walks up behind Alena and grips her firmly about the hips. It looks like her teasing has pushed him a little too far.

"Old man, you say?" He growls. "Exhausted, am I?"

He pulls her in, his erection nestled between her ass cheeks. He's kissing her on the neck, and she giggles as his mustache tickles her. She looks back at me as she wriggles in his grip and starts to fondle the dangling condoms.

"My previous record, over two hours, was five loads," she says. My heart sinks a bit to see her fall short. Anton is now crouching behind her, planting wet kisses on her cheeks as he pulls down her g-string. "I think you inspired me today, Emma."

She reaches down and parts the lips of her smooth, hairless slit. I let out a surprised laugh and put a hand to my mouth. The puckered ends of two more condoms are peeking out of her dripping cunt. They squish wetly as she pulls them out. Then she retrieves the others from her top until she has a fistful of slick, shining trophies.

She leans in close and we kiss. I caress her cheek with one hand while the other is back between my legs, my fingers rubbing and plunging. After a long, beautiful moment, she pulls back.

"Oh, lucky girl," she coos. "Your tongue still tastes like Steven's- mmm!"

She suddenly grimaces, biting her lower lip and letting out a precious little whimper. I hear a subtle, wet popping sound. Anton tosses something to the floor, and I look down to see a rainbow-striped butt plug lying on the carpet, greasy with lubricant. Alena doesn't have more than a couple of seconds to recover before he thrusts his entire twitching length into her stretched and puckering sphincter.

"Fuck!" cries Anton. "How many cocks have been in this asshole?" His question is rhetorical. "And you're still so goddamned tight!"

Alena lets out small squeaks and moans, all synced to Anton's relentless thrusting. I have a great view through her bouncing tits, and I can see his hairy, low-hanging scrotum swinging wildly. It slaps against Alena's sleek pussy with every plunge. I can see and feel small droplets from her sopping sex spattering against our legs. After a few long moments, she's recovered enough to speak.

"Normally, I'd- uhn... save these- oh, fuck... for myself," she playfully dangles all six condoms above my face. "But today, uhf... they're all- ugh... for you."

Alena lowers her trophies to my lips, and I open up wide to take them all in. I'm salivating heavily as I roll them around the inside of my mouth. They're still perfectly warm from Alena's body heat.

"Such a precious princess," she says, accusingly. "You think you're so prim and pure and proper. But you're just a cum-eating whore. Isn't that right?"

My tongue explores their shapes as I nod my head in agreement. I run it through and around them, and I lick at the nipple-like reservoirs. I feel like I can tell the varied consistencies of each load through the thin rubber.

“Would you marry me too, Emma? If I could bring you all the cum you could handle and make your little cunny squirt when you get all worked up like this, would you be my little slut bride?”

I would. I’d crawl down the aisle on all fours, dripping all the way, and beg at the altar for her. I’d tell her so if my mouth wasn’t so full. But Alena decides it’s not enough. She squeezes her fist tight, causing the condoms to bulge like balloons. The pressure in my mouth feels incredible, and I have to fight the urge to bite into them.

Anton's grunting is finally starting to grow haggard. Yet his pace grows faster. Alena is mewling loudly as she pulls the spit-slathered condoms from my mouth.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she groans as she hands them to me. “Hold these for me, baby.”

She looks back into Anton's eyes, entwining the fingers of one hand with his. He’s absolutely reaming her ass, and she whimpers with every deep plunge. The sound of each slap of flesh, when they come together, sends a jolt of pleasure through me.

I’ve taken the fistful of bulging condoms, and I'm rubbing furiously at my quivering cunt with them. The feeling as they squish against my engorged clit is incredible. There’s a marvelous pressure building at the core of my sex. Suddenly, Alena's whole body goes tense, and she begins to shake. She lets out an ululating moan of pleasure that gives Anton permission to cum. His groan is low and guttural as he releases thick jets of boiling semen into Alena's spasming asshole. I’m now stuffing all six distended balloons into my soaked pussy. After a few quick plunges, the tidal wave hits me too. Now, all three of us are cumming together. Sharing in the release feels intensely wonderful. My sex squelches and squirts until the carpet and cushions beneath me are soaked. My body is rocked with tremors of bliss that seem like they'll never stop.

As the post-orgasm fog fades away, I see Anton pull his softening member from Alena's ass. She immediately spins around and presents me with her gaping rectum.

"It looks like you're on clean-up duty now, beautiful," she says, glancing over her shoulder at me. "Us girls need to look out for one another."

I push myself from the couch and onto my knees. The tied-off ends of the condoms are dangling out of me, and they tickle as they brush against my inner thighs. Despite the distraction, I waste no time sinking my tongue into Alena’s seeping anus. My hands grasp her beautiful, smooth cheeks. Every time she pushes out more semen, I feel the muscles flex and contract. Anton came so much, and his seed is flooding my mouth.

"Don't swallow just yet," says Alena. "Save it for me. Alright, baby?"

As I continue sucking and slurping, Alena cleans Anton's cum-smeared cock. Her licking is slow and loving, and she rarely breaks eye contact with him.

"Well done, my girl," says Anton. He strokes her head gently, like he’s petting a kitten.

Finally, Alena's asshole and Anton's manhood are left wet and sparkling and free of sperm. Steven appears just as Alena turns to kneel in front of me. He hands her the wine glass. A half-inch of Rafael's cum still sits at the bottom.

"I can't believe how lucky we all are," says Steven. "To be graced with these two beauties."

He looms above us, his half-hard cock twitching. Alena positions the wine glass just below our chins and we kiss. The slimy squelching and smacking sound that fills the air is deliciously sinful. A cummy drool cascades down our chins and into the glass. Once our kiss has run its course we pull away, sticky arcs of spit and sperm connecting us. Together, we guide the rim of the vessel and scoop up as much errant semen as we can.

"Just wonderful," says Steven, with fatherly approval. "Now, I want to see Emma in her dress one last time."

<> ~ <> ~ <>

All four of my companions join in to help with the dress, and I find the whole process incredibly erotic. I feel like some scandalous queen, as my servants, in their nakedness, attend to me. Occasionally, I pull one toward me and steal a kiss.

Once I'm fully clad in my finery, Anton instructs me to kneel in the center of the studio lights. He helps me with my skirts until they're perfectly splayed around me. I look like an angel rising from a pool of mist. As Anton grabs his camera, Alena gives me the wine glass. I swirl the contents around, and my anticipation is starting to rise. Rafael and Steven are stroking themselves to stiffness and the sight has me dripping on the carpet.

"Are you ready, princess?" Alena asks the question as she kneels in front of me.

"Always," I say. "You're very cruel to make me wait this long."

"I know, baby. I know. You've been very patient. And good girls, get big rewards."

Alena lifts my skirts and crawls beneath the gauzy folds of silk and lace. I feel her hands urging my thighs apart. Her face presses against my sex, making me shiver. I feel her soft lips and searching tongue gather her trophies from my steaming quim. I pet her slender shape through the fabric. Eventually, she emerges, her face glistening in the light and the condoms dangling from her beautiful smile.

"Ooh, they’re so nice and warm," she says, with a salacious grin. "It’ll feel like you're getting them right from the source."

She dangles the condoms above the wine glass and produces a pair of slender hairdressing shears with her other hand. Anton is close, capturing the moment, and it's funny to see him in the buff, but still acting professional with his camera. Alena chokes up on the condoms until they've become swollen bulbs. Their rubber is stretched dangerously thin, and I can clearly see their lewd contents. The sight is hypnotizing. She lifts her shears, the blades flashing in the bright light, and snips a small hole in the first bulb. Its goopy contents shoot out with intense force. The lip of the glass is barely able to contain the spray. I’m trying to imagine a man who could cum like that; in one thick, continuous deluge.

As Alena continues, one condom after another, she tells me about the man each load was extracted from. She doesn't provide a single name, and I doubt she ever asked or remembers if one was given. This one was an investment banker from Salt Lake City. Snip, splurt. These two were an uncle and nephew hanging out by the pool. She took them both, at the same time. Snicker-snack, gloop, glup. This was a young father, on vacation with his wife and kids. Snip, squirt. She saves the biggest one for last; one of the Waterhouse's bellhops, who had one of the hugest cocks she'd ever seen. They did it in a cramped supply closet, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to fit it in her mouth. His cum is so thick that it refuses to come out after she snips. After a moment of speechlessness, she attacks the condom again and the stubborn load finally explodes into the glass in a single, viscous wad.

The glass is now half full. I'm an optimist, after all. I roll the cum around the glass with fascination, admiring it like a work of art. Alena has stood up and is now positioned behind me, her hands resting on my slender shoulders. All three of my men are now arrayed before me. They stroke themselves slowly and sensuously. I lean forward, and with a free hand, I cup and squeeze each of their sweat-damp testicles in turn. I give a small lick and a kiss on the head of each cock.

"Alright, angel," whispers Steven, his voice thick with lust. "You know what you need to do."

I bring the glass to my nose and breathe deeply as if taking in a bouquet of fine wine. The aroma has that raw and wild quality unique to a man's semen. The pungent perfume is triggering some primitive part of my brain, making my whole body tingle with pleasure. I can't wait any longer. So I tilt my head back and tip the vessel until its obscene contents are flooding into my eager mouth. A shiver of bliss runs through me.

Just as the last tenacious clump of sticky sperm slithers from the glass, Rafael is there to bless me with more. Mere hours ago, this was a man who was nothing to me but a crass pig, leering at me through a rearview mirror. Now he’s my bronze Adonis, powerful and virile. He grits his teeth and lets out a low, gasping hiss as he unloads. I flinch slightly as my face is belted with two dense ropes of his molten seed. The next three pulses gush into my mouth, and I feel the stringy globs dripping from my teeth. As Rafael presses out the last few drops, Alena is dutifully using her fingers to push and slide the glue-like cum over my skin and past my lips. After she's done, I can hear the shameless slut licking her fingers.

Anton is next. After four or five frantic pumps, he empties his balls into my mouth. His cum-shot is thin, but copious, despite having cum just recently. His pulsing spray is neat and precise, just like his photography. I'm incredibly full now, and the urge to swallow is powerful. But, Steven remains and I can't let him down.

"You're going to make a wonderful wife for my son, Emma," says Steven, as he jacks his swollen cock. He's very close, and pearls of pre-cum leak into the steaming swamp in my mouth. "But, a part of you will always be mine. Never forget that, baby girl."

How could a father and son be so different? Jacob is the most caring, gentle, and generous man I've ever met. I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet his mother, Jessica. She must have been the one responsible for making him the man he is today. The only word that comes to mind when I look at Steven is, evil. I can't think of a more apt term. But, my lust for cum has me punch-drunk, and all I want is for him to drown me in it. He nearly does.

I feel his first powerful spurt fly just past my nose and brow. The diamonds and sapphires of my tiara are now complemented with glistening pearls. I feel the oozing semen flow from the sparkling jewels and down my forehead. The rest of his ejaculate streams into my overflowing well of a mouth. I have to form a dam with my fingers to keep the precious cum from seeping out. Steven wipes the clinging dregs from his cock onto the glossy softness of my lower lip. His face is pebbled with sweat, and he's breathing like he just finished a workout.

"Yes," he pants. "That's my little cum-loving whore. I want to see you play with it, Emma. Show me how you play with your food."

I slowly lift my tongue, until the tip of it rises from the sultry mire. I swirl it around, feeling the stringy clumps of clotted sperm parting with its passage. I imagine I can feel the individual cells wriggling in excitement. Just like I am. Now, I'm gargling. The cum is so thick, the bubbles are struggling to reach the surface. Some of the sloshing liquid is threatening to boil over and Alena is there to help push it back in.

"You look like a goddess right now," praises Steven. "Like a pure and perfect goddess. Okay, baby. I know it won't be easy. But, you know what you need to do."

By my count, I have eleven loads of sperm in my mouth. It's a new personal record and I'm filled with equal parts shame and pride. Gingerly and carefully, I close my mouth. My ballooning cheeks and aching jaws strain to contain the massive mouthful. I squeeze my pursed lips tight. They tremble against the incredible pressure. I feel a drop of sweat coursing down my temple.

Alena is crouched behind me, softly stroking my head. With her other hand, she reaches around to hold mine, in support. Our semen-slathered fingers lace together tightly.

"You can do this, gorgeous," she coos in my ear. "I've seen what you can do. I watched your video a dozen times, and I know you can take it a step further."

I draw a deep, shuddering breath and take my first tentative gulp. The cum slides down my throat in a bitter torrent. There's instant relief for my aching jaw.

"That's it, girl," says Alena. "Fill that little cum-dump of a tummy for me."

I take my second gulp. This one is more dense, and I can feel the jelly-thick clumps as they sluice down my gullet. The taste is objectively awful. I recognize that. But some part of my brain must be flipped upside-down and inside-out because it also tastes like heaven.

One last swallow and I can get it all down. But I’m realizing that it's easier said than done. I use my tongue to feel through the remaining sperm. There's very little liquid left amid the stringy pulp, and there's enough left that my lower teeth are still submerged in the lumpy dross.

I tilt my head back until I'm staring at the ceiling, and the semen has slid to the back of my throat. I put a hand to my lips, just in case, and give one last grueling gulp. The viscous cum is so sticky it clings to the walls of my slender throat. I feel a moment of panic and tighten my grip on Alena's hand. But, my overtaxed esophagus works through the gooey clogs until I've finally swallowed everything. I can't help but let out a few wet coughs. Once I've recovered, I'm half panting and half laughing in relief. Alena is hugging me from behind, kissing and lapping at my neck and shoulders.

"Good job, baby girl!" Says Alena. She starts rubbing tenderly at my tummy. "How did it feel to eat the cum of nine different men?"

"There's nothing else in the world like it, Alena," I say. "I only wish we could have shared it together."

"One of these days, angel. You can count on it."

<> ~ <> ~ <>

It’s been five weeks since that night, and I still dream about it. About everything great and everything awful that happened. I sometimes wonder if it was just some vivid fantasy. But then I would remember Steven’s words as he, Rafael, and myself rode the elevator to the lobby.

“Emma, honey,” he said. “Once we step outside the doors of the Waterhouse, the fantasy is over. We all go back to our lives, and all that happened tonight was Anton taking some nice photos of you in your wedding dress.”

“What,” I asked. “Am I supposed to forget what happened tonight?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. In fact, I don’t want you to forget a single thing. I won’t forgive you if you do. I want you to remember the feeling of Alena’s tongue and how Rafael’s cock felt inside of you. I want you to remember what it felt like to spread yourself for Anton’s camera and what my semen tastes like. But that’s all. Once we leave this hotel, don’t come looking for more. I’ll decide when the time is right. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Steven, I understand. And more than you might think. I understand that everything that happened tonight was a part of your plan. You knew what I would say and do at every turn. Belle Mariée, the dress, the photo shoot, everyone involved. You orchestrated all of it just to manipulate me.”

“You’re very clever, Emma,” he said with a wicked smirk. “What can I say? This is what I do; how I get what I want. Do you think I built my empire on kindness and honesty? This isn’t some children’s storybook we’re living in. And I had nothing to do with your little video, did I?”

“No, you didn’t. But you took advantage at every turn. And I’m not one of your goddamned business deals!”

“Don’t do this, Emma. You’re starting to pretend again. Don’t forget, I know you. I know what you want and what you’re willing to give up to get it. I’ve only done what’s best for all of us, including you.”

“Fuck you, Steven!”

I was suddenly feeling Rafael’s looming presence differently. Instead of the stifling sexual tension that defined our previous elevator ride, he now instilled nothing but fear and intimidation in me. I hated having to feel that way about him. The second the elevator doors opened, I stalked away without another word; almost expecting Rafael to grab me.

I didn’t see or speak with Steven again until the wedding. I was afraid that encountering him again would ruin the whole day. But Steven was pleasant and cordial and behaving exactly the way a proud father should behave at his son’s wedding.

It would be an understatement to say I was anxious about the wedding dress. By the time that fever dream of a night had ended, the dress was certainly ruined. It was drenched with sweat and spattered with cum. But the dress that showed up on the morning of the wedding was pristine. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but I quickly started noticing subtle differences. The bastard bought a second dress. It would have been logistically impossible to have another one made so soon. He must have commissioned two dresses at the same time. Again, he knew exactly how that night would play out. I wonder what he’s done with the other dress. It’s probably on display in some secret room of his sprawling estate. A trophy. A memorial of his conquest. I forced myself to stop dwelling on it and focus on the wedding at hand. Soon the anxiety passed, and the day ended about as perfectly as I could have hoped.

<> ~ <> ~ <>

Jacob and I spent our honeymoon in Japan; a two-week tour that was everything I could have hoped for. Beautiful sights, wonderful food, and passionate sex. Everything. I’m not sure either of us had ever been so happy.

One night, we returned to our room to find a package waiting for us. The customs label showed that it was sent from New York. Inside was an advance copy of the latest issue of Belle Mariée. We were both shocked and elated to see myself on the cover; a stunning black and white photo of me against the city skyline. We flipped through the magazine and my heart stopped when we reached the lingerie shoot. I was prepared for an argument, but Jacob understood. He told me that it would be selfish of him to keep me all to himself. Others deserved to see how beautiful I could be. If only he knew the half of it.

Now, we’re on the plane back home. If only we’d known what was waiting for us; known what kinds of terrible things Steven had gotten himself wrapped up in. And how it would spill over into our lives. We’d have never come back.