Seven Hours Inside Her – My Delayed Creampie Cleaning
She had been planning this night for weeks, and I knew from the way she teased me that it wasn’t going to be like any other. She’d been talking about finding a bull who could fill her so much that I’d still be licking him out hours later.
When she found Vikram, she said his name like it tasted good in her mouth. Tall, thick, confident… and proud of how much he could cum. She told him to save it for three days, drink plenty of water, and be ready to give her everything in one deep, overflowing load. I sat there at the café with them earlier that day, sipping coffee in silence, while she explained to him exactly what she wanted.
And she made sure I heard every word.
The Deposit
That evening I was kneeling in the corner, hands behind my back, as Vikram fucked her. He was slow and deliberate, deep and heavy, every thrust making her gasp. I could hear how wet she was, how much she wanted him.
When he finally groaned and pushed deep, I saw her toes curl, her hands gripping his shoulders. I knew he was emptying himself against her cervix, filling her in the way she had been craving.
When he slid out, she crossed her legs immediately, holding it all in. Then she looked right at me, smirking.
“Not yet. I want it all to stay right where he left it.”
The Waiting
Seven hours. Seven long, aching hours.
She moved through the evening as if nothing unusual was happening — except I knew she was carrying him inside her. She cooked dinner, bending over so I could see the curve of her ass under those panties. She sat with her legs crossed, keeping him trapped inside.
Once, she came into my room, pulling her panties aside just enough for me to see a glistening streak on her lips. I leaned forward instinctively, but she put a hand on my chest and pushed me back.
“No. Not until I say so. I want it thicker, creamier… worth the wait.”
From the other room, she’d text me little daggers:
Still feels full.
Imagine it shifting inside me.
You’ll get it later… every drop.
The Retrieval
When she finally called me in, the room lights were bright, the bed bare. She stood over me in the same panties she’d been wearing since Vikram left. The dark wet patch was impossible to ignore.
She slid them down slowly, letting them fall at my knees. “Smell what you’ve been missing.”
Then she lay back, pulling her legs high. “It’s been sitting in me for hours. You’re going to get all of it.”
The Extraction
She started with gravity. Squatting over my face, she let the first warm, thick drop fall onto my tongue. It was creamier now, heavier, the scent almost dizzying.
Then she leaned back, telling me to use my tongue. I pushed inside her, curling upward, scooping, sucking. My lips were slick, my chin wet, and I could feel pockets of him releasing onto my tongue.
When she decided I’d missed some, she slid two fingers inside herself, stirred, and pressed them between my lips. I sucked like a starving man.
Finally, she grabbed a small vibrator, pushing it in and letting it work the rest loose. It oozed onto my tongue in a humiliating, unstoppable stream.
The Taste
Seven hours had changed everything. It was no longer just him — it was her too. Dense, creamy, musky, warm from her body heat. There was a tang to it, a weight. Every swallow coated my throat.
She looked at me. “Tell me what it tastes like.”
I told her — how it was hers and his, how it was thicker, stronger, deeper than anything I’d ever had. She stroked my cheek like I was her pet.
The Finish
When I’d licked her clean, she made me kneel. She picked up Vikram’s shirt from her bag and held it against her chest.
“Thank him.”
I whispered his name, thanked him for the gift. She smirked, leaving me kneeling, my mouth still slick, the taste of them both lingering long after the night ended.
