Carol hesitantly took the bottle into her hands, a half-filled container of cum that appeared to be a challenging task to consume. The sight before her was both intriguing and unsettling.
Peter reminded, "Come on, drink."
May's nod served as a silent encouragement, albeit with a sense of understanding.
Did May's expression convey the anticipation of something delicious, or was it simply an empathetic gesture aimed at comforting Carol in this unusual situation?
Carol cautiously twisted off the bottle cap. The bottle, half-filled with cum, was held to her lips, and she watched as the viscous fluid began its sluggish descent down the transparent container.
With her mouth poised, Carol's gaze shifted between the bottle and the expectant faces of Peter and May, who stood there in a peculiar silence.
Growing increasingly impatient, Peter's impulsive nature got the better of him, and he tilted the bottle vertically. The change in angle caused the cum to pour out more rapidly, its descent now marked by an urgency that hadn't been there before.
Carol's tongue met the first droplet of cum, and her expression told a story that her words couldn't. The taste was okay, not anything delicious.
Carol mustered the resolve to swallow. She did so, her throat working to accommodate the unusual substance. However, the act of swallowing couldn't keep up with the accelerated pace of the cum's release from the bottle.
Carol's body went into convulsions, her hands frantically swatting at the air as if to signal her inability to go on. Yet, her attempts to communicate her distress were in vain, as Peter's grip on the bottle remained firm and unyielding. The retching and heaving intensified as her body struggled to cope with the unpleasant task at hand, but Peter showed no signs of relenting.
The cum that had once filled her mouth now found itself escaping the confines of her struggling lips. The thick, sticky liquid began to overflow, cascading over her quivering chin and trickling down onto her partially bare boobs. Each convulsive shudder seemed to propel another wave of the creamy substance from her mouth, leaving her lips slick and glistening with the remnants of what she had been forced to consume.
Aunt May's voice pierced through the tumultuous scene, her concern evident as she shouted, "Peter!"
At her command, Peter finally withdrew the bottle from Carol's mouth. The sight that met their eyes was grim: Carol's reddened gaze, her mouth agape, and a voluminous expanse of white cum filling her oral cavity.
Peter turned his attention to May, a mixture of frustration and amusement etched on his face as he grabbed her hair firmly. He demanded, "What now, Milf?"
A mischievous grin played across May's lips as she responded, "Let's give her a double penetration."
Peter's own smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss May on the lips, "You're absolutely brilliant, May."
Amid the bizarre scenario, Carol's attempts to voice her protest were futile. Her mouth was still brimming with cum, rendering her speech unintelligible and leaving her with nothing but squelching sounds as the substance filled her oral cavity.
Carol's eyes widened in sheer shock, her comprehension of the situation unfolding before her.
May approached with a purposeful determination, her actions swift and decisive as she tore apart Carol's panties and bra, exposing her intimate areas to the room. The contrasting display of Carol's taut, round breasts and her cleanly shaved pussy was a sight to behold.
With a hint of excitement, May mused, "Peter, can you imagine the visual delight of these breasts jiggling vigorously as she's being taken hard and passionately?"
Peter responded in kind, his voice conveying a shared enthusiasm, "Absolutely, May, absolutely."
Carol's voice remained stifled as her hands instinctively joined together in a gesture of pleading.
Peter said, "Oh, she can't speak, can she?
With a forceful shove, Peter compelled Carol to kneel before him, catching her off guard. Before she could gather her thoughts, his rigid penis was suddenly thrust into her open mouth, leaving her little room to react.
Carol was not an active participant; it was all Peter's control. He was penetrating her throat, gripping her head to guide his movements, rhythmically thrusting in and out.
