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Yumi kept going, her body pushing past its limits, she filling the floor with copious amounts of sweat, her right hand a bright shade of red, yet she soldiered on, sucking, tugging, all the way to the finish line. "Hmm, hmm, hmm....ohhhhh, I feel it, Son, Son, SON!" even her weather detector couldn't forecast this shower: with her face level with his cock, it came out with as much velocity as a speeding, hungry cheetah, the force of it like a Tiger Uppercut to the face, resulting in a resounding...
BOOM
Yumi's fell on her back, the force of the impact a shock which had its evidence splattered all over the ceiling. Even for someone that had seen as much as she had, it was still a major shock to rub her fingers over her face and feel only creamy liquid. Indeed, this tidal wave of white sparkling teen lust was on every part of Yumi's face, dripping off individual strands of her delicate black hair, sliding down her high cheekbones, on top of her oval eyes, and on her once-pink glossy lips. Yumi then opened her mouth to gasp, and had only milky sweetness pouring inside it.
"...Amazing...oh!" she stood right up and checked on her boy. "Son, are you –" she stopped when she heard a comforting sound all parents are happy to hear: the gentle breathing of their sleeping child.
Yumi let out a long deep sigh, she so, so relieved, so happy, her actions not at all registering in her mind: all she was at that moment was a happy mother. After a minute of this calm, gentle peace, her mind turned to the person she knew was responsible for all this chaos: Helena Roberts.
Yumi had finally pieced together Helena's plan, and finally saw Helena for what she truly was: A conniving succubus. But, before Yumi could execute her ass-kicking, she saw a familiar white substance all over her hands: the evidence had to be hidden or else the others in the house would think two things: she did something unspeakable to her son, or, she was channelling a kabuki. So, Yumi grabbed a nearby shirt, hurriedly cleaned her face and chest, threw the shirt on the floor, and stomped over to the door, her mind focused on one question: 10-hit combo or 12?
Yumi ripped the door open, slammed it shut, turned, and bumped right into the forgotten man: David Rochefort.
"Oh, David!"
"Yumi," he said with an expression of his she'd never seen before: solemn seriousness.
"What...what just happened? What has happened here? Yumi, could you please tell me why my son is muttering about demons? Please tell me why Helena is packing her bags and looking to bolt out of this house? Please explain the odd noises you just made with your son in that bedroom? And please," he paused to point at her chin, "Please explain why you have that dripping out of your mouth?"
Yumi brushed her hand over her lips and saw a clear white substance. She had no response.
"Yumi...You wanna try explaining yourself?"
End
